#strong n stable government isn’t it

[oceanmonsters]

#strong n stable government isn’t it #uk politics

[chronicallycouchbound]

Unlucky: Protective Factors and Homelessness

Becoming homeless isn’t based in luck. The vast majority of homeless people aren’t just in unlucky circumstances. Most unhoused people I’ve interacted with are multi-marginalized, and have significant risk factors for becoming unhoused and lack supports to maintain secure housing.

The average American might be one significant event away from homelessness, sure. But the average American will also have better access to not only supportive services, but natural supports that can prevent or alleviate the toll that emergencies can have on an individual’s housing specifically. Thus, the average American won’t become unhoused.

In contrast, the average unhoused person (or person in precarious housing) doesn’t have natural supports who can provide relief for them. The average unhoused person is a part of several marginalized communities who have been systematically deprived of resources, and aren’t given true support by what few services exist to help their housing status.

My current housing is precarious. Housing my whole life always has been. My first times being homeless were before I have memories. But even as a young child, I had a solid understanding of the fact that if our house wasn’t spotless on inspection days, we would be unhoused again. It was such a routine part of life for me and my family, I didn’t even think about how the families of some of my peers were landlords.

When I first started sleeping outside, before I graduated elementary school, I met other unhoused people who all had varying risk factors. I didn’t know it at the time, but statistically, it was unlikely I would have never ended up homeless.

My ACE score is 10/10. My protective factors were 0/4. Beyond that, I was (and am) a part of other marginalized communities that I was discriminated against on the basis of, without even knowing I was a part of those groups like being queer, trans, and disabled.

While living on the streets, in shelters, couch surfing and even while doing community organizing, I watched as dozens of people became housed long before I did. The biggest running theme? Those who had natural supports, those who held privilege in our society, those were the people who became housed fastest and longest. They were often only unhoused once in their life.

But people like me, a part of many marginalized groups, no safe natural supports around, discriminated by supportive services, are the people who end up unhoused for most of our lives, and when we do gain housing, it can be taken due to events significantly smaller than the average American would normally see a housing related emergency.

For example, if I’m behind on rent, as someone who is 100% reliant on government aid programs with zero income and no family financial support, if I can’t find an emergency assistance program in time, I will lose my housing. Not only that— but my lease being in subsidized low income ADA housing and using governmental vouchers for rent means that if I’m formally evicted, it is a criminal offense. I have friends who have gone to prison for what should be minor lease violations that led to evictions, and they no longer qualify for any assistive programs for a predefined period of time (usually 5 years). Now they have a record, and have no governmental supports on top of already not having natural supports.

The housing we have is precarious, forever teetering on the edge of loss. We are so close to the safety of secure housing, it’s palpable, while being unattainable.

There are many genuine factors of luck that play into housing status, but make no mistake: Homeless/unhoused people are systemically disenfranchised.

If you’ve never been unhoused, if you’re currently in stable housing, there is a very strong likelihood that it’s because of your protective factors like natural supports and privileges in our society. You should acknowledge the reality of this, and not only name your supports as why you’re not homeless (not just luck), but also be leveraging your resources to support our community.

I created a resource for this if anyone is interested in how they can stand in solidarity with their unhoused neighbors.

More information about ACE & PCE scores can be found here.

[Pictured: an elementary school project from around 2006, from my sister. Child-like handwriting says: “My inspection is coming up. If your house is dirty you will get kicked out. If your house is clean you will get to stay in your house.” A small drawing of our house at the time is below it.]

#chronically couchbound #housing #housing crisis #unhoused #homeless #chronic homelessness #housing instability #housing insecurity #houselessness #houseless #homelessness #disability #cripple punk #cripplepunk #disabled #ace scores #privelege #unlucky #lucky #protect homeless youth #leftist #leftist theory #unhoused theory #disability theory

[fanaticfangirl001]

Lab Rat

Author’s note: Y/DOB- Your Date of Birth

Some say that the downfall of man is hubris. Lab Rat disagrees. She thinks that it’s curiosity. Curiosity led to Father’s experiments, poking and prodding as she grew up, recreating the serum and studying the effects on the subject growing up with the serum. If the program proved successful could create a whole generation of super soldiers, correcting the sterilization of the original. The disgraced doctor was successful but soon ran low on funds. At age five, Lab Rat read her own name, Y/n L/N and Y/DOB on a series of government papers. Desperate for funds, he sold her to the Power Broker.

Now she sits in the lab of Dr. Nagel, the Power Broker’s official researcher. The Doctor claims his serum is the perfect one, more subtle. Lab Rat disagrees, but keeps her thoughts to herself. Speaking out of turn resulted in a loss of food, as did asking questions. A lot of actions lead to food being taken away: escaping restraints, reading, not cooperating. Dr. Nagel preferred to keep the experiment in a constant sway between hunger and exhaustion. Less problems to deal with as she’s quiet when unconscious.

Y/n struggles to lift her head up and sip from the bottle. With hands shaking she laps up the water trying not to spill it on herself. The calendar across the room reads Y/DOB. Her eyes adjust to the light.

“I’m coming home baby, now” Dr. Nagel sings to himself.

Her stomach rumbles loudly.

“Food.” Lab Rat grunts rubbing her eyes.

“Do Do Do.” Dr. Nagel scats not paying attention to Lab Rat.

“Food!” She repeats louder, taking a risk, if he’s to kill her it would be prefered more than this continued treatment.

Dr. Nagel ignores her screams. Lab Rat lays down waiting for the familiar feeling of her eyes being heavy and the room beginning to spin. She sees three men enter the room and looks wide eyed at them. Lab Rat sits up and pushes herself to the corner. The restraints pull against her arms, pinning her in place.

“Dr. Nagel?”

“Who are you?What do you want?”

“We know you created the serum.”

“Get out of my lab!”

As two men question the doctor, a third stays behind with Lab Rat.

She’s shaking bracing herself for any harm to come. Sometimes others would visit the lab, and they weren’t the nicest.

“Liebling, are you hurt?” The man in a fur coat kneels down beside her.

“No..food.”

“We should get these restraints off you, first then food.”

Lab Rat looks at her hands then shakily bends the restraints off the wall and breaks the wrist shackles off, then her feet.

“Very strong, Libeling.” The man rummages in his coat and pulls out a candy. “ This is all I have right now.”

Lab Rat looks questioningly at the man before unwrapping the sweet and popping it into her mouth, the powdered sugar covering her lips. Zemo offers Y/n his arm and steadies the shakily legged woman as the two join Sam and Bucky.

“Not to interrupt but I found someone.” Zemo gestures towards Y/n.

His hand leaves her and she nearly falls.

“You know who this is right, This is Baron Zemo. I know you’ve heard of him, too, right? You seem like a pretty smart guy. So you better become conversational real quick.”

“How about a counter proposal? Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.

“Guys we have company.”

Bucky takes his gun and shoots near the Doctor’s head.

“Okay. Okay. I was brought into HYDRA’s Winter Soldier program to pick up their work after the five failed test subjects in Siberia. When HYDRA fell, I was recruited by the CIA. They had blood samples from an American test subject with semi-stable traces of serum in his system. After much labor, I was able to isolate the necessary compounds in his blood. I was a god. I did what no other scientist since Erskine was able to do. But mine was going to be different. No clunky machines or jacked up bodies. Mine was going to be subtle, optimized, perfect.”

“And the woman?” Sam asks.

“Not my serum,but she’s a gift from the Power Broker.”

At the mention of the Power Broker, Lab Rat bristles and stalks towards the Doctor. Zemo gently grabs her shoulder.

“How have we never heard of this?”

“Because… Before I was able to complete my work, I turned to dust. Then when I returned, it was five years later, program had been abandoned, so I came here. The Power Broker was more than happy to fund the recreation of my work.”

“How many vials did you make?

“Twenty. Karli Morgenthau stole those, so… I can only imagine what the Power Broker has planned for that poor girl.”

“Where is Karli now?” Sam asks.

“Not my pig, not my farm.”

The gun fire outside gets louder. Lab Rat shakily grabs at Zemo’s arm.

“Is there any serum in the lab?” Bucky asks then raising his gun again.

“No.”

“Now what.”

“Guys we’re seriously out of time.” Sharon runs in.

Zemo shoots Dr.Nagel in the head.

“No! What did you do!” Sam yells at Zemo.

An explosion sends Sam, Bucky and Sharon on one side of the container. Zemo and the new woman on the other.

Zemo grabs Y/n and runs out clouded by the smoke.

“Anybody see Zemo?” Sam asks running with Bucky and Sharon.

“No but he has a super soldier as a hostage. We gotta find her, she could help us.” Bucky answers.

“I take it Liebling, that you are enhanced.” Zemo looks behind to her following him.

Lab Rat nods catching her breath from the running.

“Once we are safe you can have any food you want.”Zemo offers.

“Food.”

“Yes, food. Follow me.”

“Okay.”

The two of them begin to clear a way for Sam and Bucky. Zemo detonates an explosive while the other woman knocks the men out, she grabs one’s gun and hits him with the butt of it before shooting others.

“She’s definitely a super-soldier. Go, let’s go.” Bucky adds telling Sharon and Sam to go thanks to their clearing the way.

“What is your name?” Lab Rat asks as the two stop by a shipping container.

“Helmut, Zemo.” He takes off his purple mask. “And your’s.”

“Lab Rat, but it’s Y/n. No one has ever called me Y/n though.”

“ Well Y/n, pick a color: yellow, blue or red.”

After some thought Y/n replies “ Blue.”

“Hop in.” Zemo opens the storage container and inside sits a blue vintage car.

Y/n hops in the car and the two ride it out of the unit and round the corner stopping in front of Sam, Bucky, and Sharon.

“Supercharged.”

“You’re going back to jail.”

“Do you want to find Karli or not?”

“He’s right. We need him. And there’s two of us and twenty of them.”

“There is another super soldier, this is Y/n.” Zemo gestures towards her.

“Hello, I’d be willing to help on one condition.” Y/n adds.

“What is it?” Bucky asks.

“You two help me find the Power Broker.”

“Sure.” Bucky agrees.

“What are you going to do once we find him.” Sam asks.

“Kill him.”

“I like your style.” Zemo smiles at her.

“Ambitious.” Sharon notes. “ Anyway that was one hell of a reunion.”

“Come back to the states with us.”

“I told you I can’t. Just get me what you promised me.”

On the plane Y/n sits further from the three men. It’s all starting to hit her that she ran off with strangers. The stranger in fur, Helmut Zemo gave her a candy. Technically he isn’t much of a stranger if she knows his name. The stranger with the metal arm stares at her for too long, and the stranger with short dark hair hasn’t said much to her.

“Eat.” Zemo puts a muffin in front of her and a bottle of mineral water.

“How long were you with Nagel?” Sam asks.

“I don’t remember, a while.” Y/n says, tearing into the muffin. She ravenously eats the muffin.

“And you took the serum.” Sam confirms.

“Not much of a choice.” Y/n shrugs and says through mouthfuls of muffin.

#Baron Zemo x reader #Baron Zemo imagines #Helmut zemo x reader

[blueriza]

Partecipating to the @nakunakunomi​ 750 Followers Event! 😊 Congratulations dear!!  I tried to write something in english, despite it is not my native language. Despite this, I hope you can enjoy my story/scenario anyway!

Aqua Laguna and Us

[Rob Lucci x Female Reader]

·         Cliche prompt:  Kissing in the rain

·         Random word to include: Enthusiasm

Word count: 1219

Aqua Laguna is going to be here, again. For all the people who live in Water Seven, Aqua Laguna is always an event that cannot be forgot. A very big wave (just one?), the rain, a strong wind... every year all the citiziens need to be ready to deal with it, specially the people who live in the lower part of the city.

The carpenters need to leave their works too, as it will be impossible continue their deals with all these waves and such rain. Even the Galley-La Company has to stop. You are busy to prepare yourself for the Aqua Laguna too, closing your home after moving away in a safer place with all your goods. There is a particularly heavy sack you are trying to lift and carry, without great results. When you have a lot of things and you want to save them... you curse yourself for this. You are fumbling with that bag, when suddenly you feel a firm but gentle touch on the back of your hands, from behind.

“You shouldn’t lift such heavy things without asking for help, if you struggle so much.”

It is a familiar deep voice and a reassuring physical presence for you, but this sudden arrival takes you by surprise and the heavy bag slips from your hands.

“Lucci!” you exclaim, while he moves fastly to grab your falling bag.

Lucci reached your side very rapidly: you are already used to his reaction times, but everytime is almost as it is the first time you see him act so fast. Around him is flying Hattori, which is cooing for a while, then the pigeon returns on his right shoulder after Lucci regains his straight composture, still keeping the bag for you.

“Thank you Lucci...”

“No need to thanks me: you just could have told me when you wanted to organize yourself for the Aqua Laguna, and I would have give you a hand with the moving.”

Maybe he is right, but you just thought he was occupied with her works at the docks too. This year the news about the annual and upcoming Aqua Laguna were given earlier than usual. You just hadn’t time to tell him. And you explain this to the carpenter. You want to be honest with him, because he was honest with you: a day, during a lunch together, he told you he is an agent for the government. At first you thought he is joking, but you know his way of being enough to understand he wasn’t joking: he is too serious and... you have chosen to believe him. He said that only once, and he reminded you to keep it to yourself. Lucci is a reserved man and when he wants to tell you something, he does it. For everything else about this “other life”, you don’t dare to ask anything if he doesn’t want give details. What and when to explain are his choices, and the fact that he have decided to said you the truth about him is anyway an important sign of trust between you two.

Lucci understands your explanation and nods: it is true, this year the Aqua Laguna is coming earlier than usual. The air is already a bit wet for the upcoming bad weather: Lucci’s curly hair are already starting to be a bit wilder as very little rain drops are falling from the sky.

“I already finished my commitments at the docks, or whatever else I had to do. Now let me help you...” he says forthright, taking easily the heavy bag you were struggling with, and also another one on the other shoulder, where Hattori is, the bird coos and looks at you.

You accept his aid with enthusiasm, but maintaining a composed attitude.

“This island is so beautiful... it is a pity we have Aqua Laguna every year, which menacing the quiet living of the population...” you say unhappily.

“A sad reality. If it continue like this, Water Seven will be abandoned soon...”

“For a city of shipwrights, it could be... terrible. Despite I suppose the Galley-La Company may will go in another island and works there.”

Another place. This means to find again a new house... a new life. You are literally born in Water Seven, but you need also to be realist: before or after, you could leave this island. You don’t know what Lucci can do or where he might go: after all, he is a carpenter and... an agent for the Government. Where truly is his real home? Does he have it one or just... ?

“And you...?” you ask to Lucci, not sure about looking at him or not. Lucci, on the other hand, stares at you.

“Me?”

“Yeah... I mean...Where are you-..”

“I will think about it when the situation of the island will be declared. Everything might happen every day, and depends where my presence is needed.”

“Yeah, right...” you mutter, unsure what to think about your future, his future and... both together. You don't know how long your story together could last, you should be honest with yourself: he is a mysterious man and despite he decided to open himself with you, his life is after all... not so stable, perhaps.

The man then stops walking and you finally gaze at him. What if you said something wrong? After all, nothing has yet been decided for the definitive abandonment of the island in future terms.

“Nothing. Just forget what I said...”

Lucci perceive something wrong with you. Still remaining serious, as he always be, Lucci walks in front of you and stops yourself, grabbing one of your wrists with your surprise. In the meanwhile the weather was getting worse, starting to rain harder. You know how Lucci doesn’t like the rain... despite that, he is here, keeping you in front of him. The bags he is carrying are still on his shoulders and it seems they are like inexistent. He hugs you in a slightly rude way, one hand grabbing your wrist and the other on your waist. Without any warning or asking anything, his lips meet yours and you two are kissing in the rain. It isn’t a long kiss, but it was enough passionate but delicate in a own way. The words “Rob Lucci” and “delicate” are often on two different rails, but sometimes they... meet, even slightly. His wet hair touch your face as he kisses you, but you don’t mind. You hug him, touching his back.

“(Y/N)... there will be always a place for you in my plans, here or elsewhere.”

Your eyes are fixed on his.

“Reall--...”

“Don’t doubt this. I asked you to believe me and to keep my secrets for yourself. There are few people to whom I gave my trust... and you are one of these few...”

He shared his secrets with you, he usually doesn’t talk too much, but receiving his confidence means a lot for you.

You just smile, and probably for Lucci it is enough.

“Now we should go on a dry and covered place. This bad weather... I don’t like rain... and you will get sick” he declares. And with the various bags and your gratitude, you two start walking again, in your new safer place to avoid the annual Aqua Laguna.

#Cliche with Hazel #one piece scenario #Lucci x reader #rob lucci #one piece #one piece event #one piece writing #kissing in the rain #scenario #cp9 #blueriza writings #female reader

[goddessofeternity]

Love Amidst the Darkness

Chapter 10: Danger in the Night

“Welcome back Lord Derrick.”

 Althea shuffled in place beside her father as he shook hands with Lord Derrick. He seemed to be in good spirits about something as he bowed and kissed her mother’s hand. Althea couldn’t see why he was so happy...the last time she looked over his documents, everything seemed the same. His taxes were fine, his crops were the same, and the people he governed in his land were happy.

 So...why did he seem so ecstatic?

 “Princess! It’s wonderful to see you again!” Althea nervously smiled as he kissed her hand. “I trust you’ve been well?”

 “Oh yes...I’ve been well.”

 “I’m so sorry you had to go through that horrible ordeal at the tournament.” He says sadly. “I wish it all could have been avoided.”

 “Yes I do too.” Althea responds by rubbing her hands together. “I’m glad I live in such a strong kingdom...the kindness and strength of the people really helped me through it all.”

 “Of course the people of Melodia are strong! Seeking comfort from the people is a wonderful thing. Your Highness.”

 Althea just smiled as she started to tune out the conversation he began with her parents. All she wanted to do at the moment was go outside and tend to her roses. She looked over towards the corners of the room as she saw Duran, Liam, and Honora standing at attention. She blushed as Liam gave her a small wink, and Honora glared at him angrily. Duran was just staring ahead watching her parents vigilantly. He glanced her way and gave her a small smile, but she quickly turned away. 

 “Princess?” Althea blushed deeply as she looked over at her parents. Her mother was giving her a disapproving gaze while her father just chuckled. 

 “Y-Yes?”

 “You seem distracted my rosebud...are you alright?”

 “Y-Yes...I just um...was thinking about my studies. I have a lot of work to do.”

 “Ah...well we will have to clear your studies for a few days. You deserve a break, right Hestia?”

 “Yes of course my love...perhaps the princess needs a break.”

 Althea curtsied to her parents and hastily walked out of the room as her knights quickly followed suit. “I really need to stop daydreaming. Hmm...Honora could you get me my gardening gloves...I think I’ll tend to the roses in the courtyard for a bit.”

 “Of course, Your Highness.” As Honora went to retrieve her gloves...Althea looked at her other two knights with a red face.

 ‘I-I never b-been alone with t-two young men before…’ As she looked between them both, Duran shot her a kind smile, while Liam gave her a wink and...odd smile. Flustered, she timidly smiles back at them and walks ahead of them, but she trips over the carpet, falling right onto her face. 

 “.......” Both boys look down at her in stunned silence. 

 “Pffft…” Liam holds his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Duran gives him a glaring side eye. “The gods are going to curse you if you laugh.”

 Duran moves forward and helps her up. “I guess I’ll have to keep an eye out for carpets too.” Althea blushes deeply as she fixes her hair. “Would you like to go and change into a better dress, so you don’t trip?

 “N-No it’s fine really...I just have to watch my footing more.” She smiles as she sees Honora walking back down the hall. “Besides...it would take up just too much time to change.”

 “Here you go, Your Highness,” Honora says, handing over the gloves. “I wasn’t sure which ones to  grab...you just have so many…”

 Althea puts her gloves on as they walk into the courtyard. “Yes well I have a tendency to lose my gloves, so I make sure I have a lot in reserve.”

 As Althea kneels down, she feels a chill go down her spine as the same uneasy feeling of someone watching her crept up on her. She nervously glanced up and only saw Duran and Liam circling around her. Their continued circling did nothing to make her feel at ease. Honora looked over at her confused, and a thought wandered into Althea’s mind.

 “Honora...could you join me for a second?” Honora knelt by her side as Althea smiled and handed her the shears. “You can help me pick out the fresh roses.”

 “Umm….Your Highness….I’m not very familiar with gardening...at all.” Althea laughed as she took in Honora’s confused face. 

 “It’s rather simple...just minding the thorns is the difficult part…” Althea explains as she reaches forward and carefully cuts the thorns around the roses. “You just cut them away and cut the stem, then we can put them in the basket. Easy right?”

 Honora pursed her lips as she followed her lead. Althea looked on as Honora swore under her breath as the thorns cut into her hands. She turned away Althea’s gloves as she preferred to do it barehanded, Althea honored her wishes by watching on as Honora seemed to enjoy it after a while. Duran and Liam looked amused as Honora had a small smile on her face as she and Althea engaged in light conversation. 

 “Do you have any flowers that you like Honora?” 

 “Not really...I’ve never really been into flowers…”

 “Really? There are so many beautiful flowers in the world...I’m sure you’ll find something you love…”

 “Yes Honora found a favorite flower...I need some confirmation that you are indeed a girl,” Liam smirks as Honora glares at him. “The short hair, the brutality that you display, and your general lack of female qualities make it quite difficult to determine if you are indeed female…”

 Honora stands and throws the shears to the side as she steps up to Liam’s face. “Five minutes Liam, just five, so I can shove my sword up your scrawny little ass! Then I won’t have to listen to your stupid, smart ass, sexist prattle!” She bumps past him and walks toward the stables. Althea looks up at Duran and Liam worriedly as Duran glares sharply at Liam. Liam stares at Honora’s retreating figure and sighs loudly.

 “Liam...you can stand to not antagonize Honora for one day! In front of our princess no less! You two are starting to get on my nerves! Get your acts together or I’ll request for two other people who will take this seriously and not argue like children!” Duran angrily shouts. “Now go apologize to her and act like her friend!” 

 “Look Duran….I was only teasing...I didn’t think she’d take it so personally...I mean it’s never bothered her before. Fine fine...stop looking at me like that.” Liam walks after Honora and Duran sighs annoyed at their behavior. Althea looked at Liam’s retreating form and wondered if it would always be like this between them. She had always heard that boys would tease girls they liked. She wasn’t exactly sure how accurate it was, but she didn’t feel it was her place to ask. The dynamic between the three of them seemed to be easily rattled by Liam’s sass and then Honora’s pride, but then Duran would solve the tension. Maybe she misjudged their friendship?

 “Duran?”

 As if forgetting she was there, Duran flinched and rubbed his hand across his face as he looked down and smiled at her. “I’m so sorry princess...they aren’t usually like this...well this bad anyway.” He says helping her off the ground. “Liam just loves to tease and rattle Honora’s chains. This sort of conduct isn’t supposed to be tolerated, I think I’ll send them home today. I hope you won’t mind if it’s just me today?”

 “N-No! I mean...yes it’s alright...I mean I just want them to get along,” she smiles. “I am happy with your company Duran. I’d like to go inside however, I’d like to do some light reading...I have some things I have to prepare for.”

 “Of course Princess.” Taking one last look toward the stables, Althea slowly walked back to the palace with Duran following closely behind. A bunch of questions surfaced in her mind but she couldn’t bring herself to ask Duran about them. It really wasn’t her place to ask about his friends personal lives. All she could hope for is that tomorrow would be a better day.

♛

 Althea looked out her bedroom window as the moon shone over the courtyard. Looking at her books, Althea realized how she didn’t do much reading. Her mind had started to wander and she began to think about her...fiancé. She thought about what he could be like? What he liked to do? Or if he was tall? What did he like to eat? Would he be attractive? All of these questions swirled in her head, but it still was all confusing. She wanted the chance to fall in love, to carve her own future. It seemed impossible though, she had to do it for her kingdom. It was something she had to accept.

 No matter how she felt about it.

 She had sent Duran home for the night and she already began to miss his presence. It was comforting to have him around. Although she wasn’t sure about Liam and Honora. They both seemed to have such strong personalities and she wondered if she would be able to fit in their circle. The sound of her door opening made her turn around, but the person standing in her doorway made her blood run cold. 

 “Ah Princess Althea...I thought I’d find you here.”

 “L-Lord Derrick…” Althea stood in shocked silence as he closed her bedroom door and locked it behind him. Her eyes widened in fear as she moved back against her window. He ran his hands over her bedsheets and over her dress hanging over a chair. He sat on her bed and licked his lips slowly as he lifted her pillow and smelled it.

 “Sweet...like a freshly picked rose...like you Althea,” he said, looking her up and down. The sound of her name on his lips made her stomach turn. “I don’t mean to frighten you my dear...I just want to talk that’s all. Come sit with me.”

 “L-Lord Derrick….this isn’t appropriate, please leave at once,” she asked nervously. “We can speak in the morning...w-where we can have a-a civilized chat.”

 “I have important things to discuss...it can’t wait till the morning,” he says curtly. “Althea I wish you would understand that...you’re gonna be queen someday...and I’m gonna be your king.”

 “My what? L-Lord Derrick please that isn’t appropriate...I-I’m engaged we can’t be married...please get out of my room.”

 “No!” He slams his hand on her night table and throws her vase on the floor. He rips the curtains of her bed down and grabs her dress off the chair and rips it. Althea moves back against her wall as tears run down her face. She looks out the window and she silently prays for someone to have heard the breaking glass. The knights were supposed to make the rounds and she wasn’t sure what was taking them so long. “I have power Althea, all the land and people I govern are happy and prosperous! I have a strong relationship with your father. It makes sense! I should have been the first choice!”

  “P-Please…” Althea whimpers as she sinks to the floor. “Stop…” He advances over to her and kneels in front of her and cradles her face. She swats his hand away and he retaliates by gripping her face hard.

  “You will be my queen Althea...whether you want it or not...I will be king...I’ll see to it right now…..” 

 He places his hand over her mouth and lifts her up off the floor. She screams into his hand and starts to kick and scratch at his face. He grunts in annoyance and pins her arms back as he leads her out the room. Althea could feel her head spinning as he led her down the halls.

 It made no sense. Where were the knights would make their rounds around her room?

 All she could think of was Duran. She should have never told him to go home for the night. She put faith in the other knights and they weren’t there. It was if every knight in the palace was gone. Now she was being taken somewhere against her will. She was scared and confused and all she wanted was Duran to rescue her, anyone to rescue her. Her arms hurt as he squeezed harder and pushed her toward the stairs. As they made their way down she kicked at a vase knocking it over. They both stopped their approach as the sound of running feet drew closer to them. 

 “It was over here quickly!” Lord Derrick squeezes her arm tighter and tightens his hand over her mouth. He moved closer to her ear and the smell of alcohol on his breath almost made her throw up.

 “Straighten yourself up princess...and fix your face now.” He roughly lets her go and she wipes at her face. “Smile little girl…” She smiles weakly and rubs her arms as several knights round the corner. They observed Althea and Lord Derrick apprehensively. Althea tried her best to keep a smile on her face. Lord Derrick’s sudden chuckle made her face fall in horror. Looking at the knights made her heart tense up in fear, as Lord Derrick roughly gripped her shoulder.

 “I was wondering what took you gentleman so long to meet me,” Lord Derrick chuckled humorlessly. “The princess has become quite annoying…”

 “We had to take one last perimeter sweep to make sure we could go...everything is ready for you. Do you have our payment?” Althea looked between Lord Derrick and the knight in disbelief. Her own knights were selling her off like common cattle. She couldn’t even imagine what else Lord Derrick would have in store for her. Kidnapping her wouldn’t make her his...his queen. The whole thing started to confuse her more and more as they stood there.

 “You should have knocked her unconscious,” one of the knights said, startling her back to attention. “If she manages to escape and she relays this back to the king...all of us will be dead.”

 Lord Derrick’s grip on her shoulder tightened considerably to the point of being painful. “You are correct, but seeing such a pretty face twisted in fear is quite enjoyable.”

 Althea felt sick to her stomach as she peered around the dimly lit corridor, looking for a means to escape. There were six knights and Lord Derrick, and he had an intense grip on her shoulder. She saw no way out and it was only a matter of time before they took her away. They said no other knights were around, but...if she yelled, maybe she could grab someone’s attention. 

 Honestly she was afraid. 

 As the tears stung her eyes again, all she could think of was how scared she was. If she tried to run they’d immediately catch her. Her heart raced as she tried to think of all her options, but she couldn’t think of none. This wasn’t what her life should be, kidnapped by her own knights and a trusted comrade of her father's. Her life was meant to be perfect, free of strife and fear. All she wanted was-

 The flicker of the torch caught her attention.

 Its soft crackle accompanied the low whispers of the men in the small corridor. Lord Derrick released his grip on her as he fetched some gold out his pocket. She stared up at the flame, burning bright and true. She realized quickly that it was the only way she could escape, to at least have a head start. The only problem was that she was not adept in controlling her fire abilities. There was no guarantee that she would get anything more than a flicker, but it was her only option. 

 Lord Derrick was still talking to the knights as she gazed at the torch intensely. The door to the inner courtyard was a few feet away from her. If she could make the fire encompass the hallway she could run. It would probably distract them for a short time but she saw no other option. She risked one more look at the collected men, they all were looking away from her. She looked at the torch as she focused like her father told her. She felt a bead of sweat run down her face as the flame started to flicker uncontrollably. 

 One of the knights looked back at the torch just as it roared to life and spread down the wall, burning the side of his face. The amount of fire caught her by surprise, but she didn’t have time to stare in awe as she quickly ran towards the door. She didn’t look back as she heard the heavy pursuit behind her. Lord Derrick’s furious yelling made her run all the more faster. She picked up the skirts of her nightgown so she wouldn’t trip. 

 “Stop her now you imbeciles!” Lord Derrick’s voice boomed. “You call yourselves knights and you can’t catch one girl?!”

 She didn’t dare risk a look back. They were catching up to her, but the door was closer. Althea smiled as she threw open the door and the cool night air greeted her. She tried to catch a second wind, but they all stormed outside. She gasped as she took off running again, she quickly rounded a corner only to run into someone.

  “Princess?” She looked up and almost cried as she realized she ran right into Duran’s arms. He looked down at her confused. “I thought I shouldn’t leave you at night, I figured you’d want me on night duty since Honora and Liam are-”

 “D-Duran p-please! You...you have to help...me…”

 Duran takes in her flustered appearance and immediately gets on guard. He pulled her into a dark corridor and held a finger to his lips as Lord Derrick and the knights ran by. Althea shuddered as she sank to the floor and held herself as she started to cry. Duran knelt in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder.

 “Princess...you must tell me what happened? Why is Lord Derrick and those knights chasing you in the middle of the night?”

 “I-I don’t...L-Lord Derrick i-is paying the knights...t-to take me away…” She sniffled. “H-He’s trying to...to marry me.” 

 “What?! Damnit I shouldn’t have left!” He stood up quickly and looked down the hallway both ways before kneeling by her again. “Princess I need you to go and alert your parents quickly. I hear them coming back this way. I will stall them until you return.”

  “I-I c-can’t! Please Duran don’t!”

 “Princess I promise you that I will not let any harm come to you! You have to go now!” He looked back down the hall and cursed to himself. “Please princess...you can do it.”

 Althea sniffled as she looked at Duran. She was scared but she knew she had to run. To find her parents. It was the only way this nightmare would be over. She would have to push her fear to the side.

 “O-Ok...I-I’ll go.” Duran nodded as he helped her up. She took a deep breath as she prepared to run. She looked at Duran as he peered around the wall. He quickly made a shooing motion and she took off running down the hall. She didn’t turn around as she heard the yelling and fighting. She ran past a few confused knights until she was finally at her parents bedroom door.

 “Mother! Father! Please wake up! Open the door!” Althea cried out as she banged on their door. “Help please!”

 She could hear the frantic shuffling of her parents behind the door. The door swung open and she looked at her parents frantic faces. “Althea? What’s the matter sweetheart? Why are you crying?”

 “M-Mother p-please...L-Lord Derrick...h-he’s t-trying…” 

 “Althea take deep breaths...calm down and talk to us.” Her father says gently wiping her face. “Tell us what happened with Lord Derrick.”

♛

King Kyros didn’t waste any time as he made his way down the halls, a group of knights flanking him in his anger. Althea and her mother followed closely behind. Althea let out a sigh of relief as they finally made it back to Duran, the knights that were chasing her on the floor unconscious. Lord Derrick was leaning up against the wall tied up with a black eye. Duran immediately took a knee as the royal family approached. Althea didn’t dare look in Lord Derrick’s direction, she could feel his eyes on her.

 “What is the meaning of this!?” Her father's voice boomed in the small corridor. “Derrick, you were a trusted friend and ally! Now I hear you have assaulted my daughter! Paying knights to kidnap her! YOU HAVE CROSSED A LINE THAT WILL RESULT IN SWIFT PUNISHMENT! GUARDS TAKE ALL OF THEM TO THE DUNGEONS!”

 Althea watched from her mother's arms as Duran and the other knights led their new prisoners to the dungeons. Althea leaned into her mother’s shoulder and Hestia ran her fingers through her hair. Her father was angrily barking out more orders. She had never seen her father so angry, but lately it seemed to be happening more often. Sensing her daughter’s distress, Hestia held her tightly as she looked at her husband.

 “Kyros…” She called out to him, but he was still yelling out orders. “Kyros!”

 “Hmm? Yes Hestia?”

 “Please my love...let’s just get Althea to her room so she can rest.” She said gently. “We will deal with this in the morning.”

 “Mmm fine…”

 Queen Hestia reached out and grabbed his hand and they walked in silence as they went to Althea’s room. Althea climbed into her bed and sighed deeply as her mother pulled the blankets around her. She watched as her father looked around her room and picked up her torn dress and ruined curtains. Her mother looked around her room with worry written all over her face.

 “Tomorrow we can get your room all cleaned up and the seamstress can make you all new dresses…” Her mother smiled down at her. “Just relax and this will all be over soon.”

 “Ok…”

 Her father walked over to her and kissed her forehead as did her mother. “Don’t you worry about a thing rosebud...you just get some rest.”

 “I’ll try…”

 They smiled at her and blew out her candles before leaving her bedroom. She stared at her canopy as she heard her parents talking with someone outside her door. She sat up as she heard them walk away. The person outside her door shuffled a bit, but didn’t leave. She got out of bed and leaned her ear against the door.

 “H-Hello?”

 “Yes princess?”

 “Duran?”

 She opened her door a little as Duran moved back from her door. He bowed and she smiled a little. She didn’t think he would be back so soon.

 “Thank you Duran...for tonight…”

 “Of course princess...I’m just sorry I wasn’t here to prevent this. I had no idea something like this would transpire within the palace. “

 “I sent you home...it’s not your fault in the slightest…”

 “Well...I won’t leave your side again...I will lay my life on the line for you.”

 She blushed deeply and smiled, he smiled back at her and wished her a goodnight. She wished him one as well as she shut her door. She got back in bed and quickly drifted off to sleep.

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

Next: https://goddessofeternity.tumblr.com/post/648326082220769281/love-amidst-the-darkness

Previous: https://goddessofeternity.tumblr.com/post/648325010459688960/love-amidst-the-darkness

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! Likes are welcomed!

#Althea #King Kyros #Queen Hestia #Duran #Lord Derrick #royalty #knights #kidnapping #Honora #Liam

[melancholydreadfuldream]

Alternative Dream Part One

Fandom: Doctor Who

Summary: Doctor Who AU where the Doctor as a war Doctor use the moment and managed to defeat the Daleks without destroying Gallifrey. He is seen as a war hero and is given new regeneration as reward. He was given a place in the government. He was never able to travel again so he never met Rose Tyler or any of his companion. He remained on Gallifrey and has regenerated into a version of Thirteenth Doctor where she continue to work for glory of Gallifrey. Until she met you, a time sensitive she was assigned to capture at any cost.

 Pairing: Thirteenth Doctor x Reader, Yaz x Reader and Jack Harkness x Reader

 Warning: angst, mention of use of violence, forced relationship, ooc.

 A/N: I’m bullshitting my way with this particular fanfiction. So Pardon the mess.

 PART TWO is here

Time sensitive.

 I hated that word.

 Time sensitive is a being that is able to see both past and future timeline. Sometimes, if the Time sensitive person is of strong line, he or she would be able to see alternate timelines. Time sensitive person were deemed too fragile and dangerous to be left on their own. Most time sensitive are human and they are not meant to see time like that. Not many can cope with seeing through the fabric of time and most of the time, they went insane or burn out from the outside and inside. It will be a painful death.

 My name is (name) and I am a time sensitive. Unfortunately.

 Because of my nature, my family is hunted by a race called the Time Lord. They have a very firm law regarding a time sensitive person, they are to be taken to their home planet, Gallifrey, where the person will be chosen as a bride for some pompous Time Lord. Once they are bonded, the time sensitive person will have a stable mind and their power will be attune more to those of the past and the future of his or her bonded Time Lord.

Most of time sensitive have no choice and are forced to bond with a Time Lord, willing or not. I will not have that as my fate. So I ran, as far away as possible. I'm one of the oldest of age for someone who is a time sensitive. Most younger time sensitive are unable to hid very well and thus was taken to Gallifrey.

 Time sensitive is originally supposed to be rare and yet these past years there are lot of people born with the time sensitive potential. I heard rumor it was because something that originated from Gallifrey. They said time sensitivity is a virus that plaque the human and the forced bond is some kind a cover up by the Time Lord. No one know for sure. The Time Lord are not very forthcoming about it. They never saw the human as equal in the first place, it's beneath them to even be with human, and yet they forced a bond with time sensitive person. They never treated time sensitive well, just another pawn for their own gain.

 The Time Lord decided to take over the Earth so they can keep track and control all born time sensitive. Of course, the people of Earth refused and fought but it was useless. The Time Lord is superior compare to us, human.

 I have motivation to continue evade those pompous time jackass. The Time Lord who found me is a bastard that didn't even respect me and only saw me as a means to an end. He caused the death of my parents. I was able to trick him and trap him inside a prison he prepared for me and I escaped his rage. I never saw him again. I hope he never able to escape that cage, it would serve him right to spend the rest of his immortal life imprisoned.

 I have been joining a human resistance against the Time Lord on some corner of the Earth. With my time sensitivity, I become useful in the resistance to evade those time jackass. Though lately, I have been feeling sickly every time I peek on the fabric of time. I knew I was running out of time. I have to bond with a Time Lord (over my dead body) or really dies. I choose to die but I will use my time sensitivity as long as I can to help the resistance.

 &&&&

 On the Gallifrey, the Time Lord officials are having a meeting regarding the resistance.

 "They have a time sensitive on their side. That's the only possible way they could ever hope to evade us."

 "Have we locate this time sensitive traitor?"

 "They have hidden him or her very well. We think the time sensitive has got a bio damper to hide their signature."

 "How is that even possible? Find him or her immediately!"

 "This particular time sensitive person seemed stronger than most. He or she will be valuable."

 "If they help the human, it's unlikely they will pledge loyalty to us. Too dangerous. I voted we find them and execute them as a warning to those against us."

 "What a waste. We could force a bond and they would have no choice but to serve whoever Time Lord they are bonded to."

 "They have been out there for too long. Their mind is probably unstable. It would only be a matter of time before they dies. But considering how they have been using their power, they are too dangerous to be left alive. I voted we kill them on sight."

 The Doctor never like these meeting and despite being a celebrated war hero, no one seemed to want her opinion. She never approved of the Time Lords' decision to take over the Earth or the forcing of bond for those poor time sensitive people. But she also knew they have no choice but to bond with time sensitive or they will die. She hated that the Time Lords are forcing a bond, not because they care for the human, but because they want to exploit their power.

 The Doctor raised her hand much to annoyance of the other. "I voted we capture them alive and then we will monitor their state of mind before we do anything harsh."

 "Noted, Doctor." But it was clear to the Doctor, they didn't care. "So who will go to earth and find them?"

 "I volunteer." The Doctor said as she raised her hand again eagerly.

 &&&&

 The Doctor stroke her Tardis longingly. "It's been a while, old girl. Let's have an adventure together, eh?" she said. "We have to help the human and the poor time sensitive person on their side. Do you have any idea where they are?"

 The Tardis hummed gently inside the Doctor's mind and she grinned. "Then, shall we go?"

 &&&&

 I woke up in sweat. My eyes widened.

 Yaz rushed toward me. "Are you okay, (name)? What is it?"

 "Someone is coming...someone dangerous..."

 Yaz looked worried. "Do you know when?"

 I furrowed my eyebrows. "Don't know. I can't see it clearly."

 "It's getting worst, isn't it, for you, I mean, to see the future?" Yaz asked sadly.

 "I'm fine, Yaz. Just needed more rest and I will be good as new." I lied.

 She didn't believe me of course but she didn't argue. She knew better. Everyone knew I have an expired date.

 &&&&

 "Who the hell are you? You are trespassing here!"

 The Doctor raised both hands in surrender. "I'm human, like you, I come in peace. I'm just looking for asylum here."

 Jack stared at him in suspicion. "Scan her!" he ordered his soldiers.

 The Doctor remained calm as a soldier approached her with a scanning machine to determine her species.

 "Confirmed, human." the soldier replied.

 The Doctor hummed. She is glad that her hunch is correct that the human has got their hands on the species scanner machine. The Doctor has put an upgraded bio damper on herself. "See? My name is Jane Smith. Now, may I get some rest? Been walking around for long and I'm tired."

 Jack narrowed his eyes at the Doctor. "Fine. Let her get back to the bunker to see Martha. Tell her to keep an eyes on her."

 The Doctor sighed in relief. She is in. Now she has to figure out which one of the human is the time sensitive.

 &&&&

 The Doctor got along well with Martha. Martha is a doctor who is in charge to keep everyone in good fit. She has checked the Doctor and cleared her.

 Martha introduced her to Donna who is in charge of assigning new people to their quarter and duty.

 The Doctor stared at Donna's ginger hair longingly. "I never get to be ginger..." she murmured.

 Donna is loud and a bit intimidating, the Doctor found, but she likes her enough.

 Strange, how most of the people here in resistance are likeable to the Doctor, even though some of them, are soldier like Rose, Amy and Clara. For some reason, the Doctor felt like she knew them like they were old friends. But that's not possible as she never seen them before.

 It was dinner time and everyone, in the bunker, have dinner together. Despite their situation, they are having a good laugh with each other. The Doctor admired them. She watched Rose and Clara having a laugh together at Jack's expense. Martha is seated with her boyfriend, Mickey, whispering at each other. Amy is with a soldier called Rory whom the Doctor learned is also her husband. A woman named Bill and Heather are distributing food for everyone. Everyone is having a good time.

 The Doctor's eyes widened when she saw her former companion, Sarah Jane Smith. She was on the other side of the room, talking with Donna. She had no idea that Sarah Jane is part of the resistance. She smiled fondly. Of course, Sarah Jane will be a defender of the earth.

 The Doctor took a seat with Rose and her friends.

 "Hey, new girl, Jane, right?" Rose asked with a friendly smile.

 Clara grinned as she look her up and down in appreciation which make the Doctor blushed red. "Looking good, Jane..."

 "Down, girl." Rose said with a grin.

 They soon involved with a friendly conversation with each other.

 "So, how do you lot meet each other?" the Doctor asked curiously.

 "Well, we all have our reason to join resistance... Mine is because of our daughter..." Amy said with a sad smile. "But we are actually recruited by..."

 Rose suddenly shushed her. "No one is to mention him, remember?"

 "Ah, right, he-who-shall-not-be-named."

 "He's not Voldemort, Amy."

 Everyone laughed at the running joke between them.

 The Doctor observed everyone's interaction and realized that they must have been recruited by the time sensitive. But why? What makes them so special? Also now she knew the time sensitive is a man. She will have to look around for a male fit the description of a time sensitive.

 &&&&

 "You need to eat, (name)." Yaz tried to persuade me to have dinner.

 "Not hungry..." I said softly as I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling.

 Jack entered the room without knocking. The former time agent always annoyed me since I always reprimanded him about his manner. "Hey, how is my Voldemort doing today?"

 I scoffed at the nickname. "Shouldn't I be the boy who lives?"

 "Nah, too heroic." Jack said with a grin.

 It was a secret within our circle that the time sensitive is actually me and that I am a female. It was Clara's idea to throw the Time Lord off my scent. That's why they spread a rumour that the time sensitive is actually male just in case there are mole within the resistance. It annoyed me that the team I put out nicknamed me Voldemort or he-who-shall-not-be-named.

 "Did you see anymore about our hostile visitor?" Jack asked. He is worried after Yaz told him about my vision.

 I shook my head. "Nope. But whoever it is coming and we have to be on alert."

 "There a few new people coming in to join us. I already scanned them and they passed all the tests." Jack said.

 I hummed. "Don't forget the Time Lord is a smarter race than us. They have plenty time to upgrade everything in their disposal. Ours are a bit outdated."

 "Haven't you see anything that could help in that regard?"

 "Think the Time Lords are on me and my tricks. I think they put precaution to put shadow around Gallifrey. Can't see them clearly."

 "Well that is a bummer."

 "Jack!" Yaz glared at him.

 "Sorry, (name), you did good work." Jack said with a sad smile.

 "I hate that I can't be much help." I said. "I have to prepare Melody for when the time come for me to die..."

 Melody is the seven years old daughter of Amy and Rory and she is a time sensitive like me. I have been training her to hide herself from the prying us of other time sensitives and the time lords. She is the whole reason I recruited the parents. She will be my replacement in the future.

 But that's not the only reason, I knew her parents are a potential defenders of earth. I saw it in my vision. most people I recruited personally are because of my vision. I knew that in another timeline they were defenders of earth alongside someone called the storm? I never find out about the storm person and I never told any of them about him. At least I think it's a him.

 Jack and Yaz winced every time I mentioned about my being dying. They hated how helpless they are regarding my situation. It is not like they could get their hand on a decent time lord to bond with me. I told them plenty of time there are not one decent time lord in existence.

 Sarah Jane disagreed though. She mentioned a man called the Doctor who always defended the earth. But she think that man has died because otherwise she believed that the Doctor would join our cause. I never believe her. I didn't recruit her but I sense she is a good person as she joined the resistance on her own free will.

 &&&&

 The Doctor has been with the resistance for a week now and hasn't gotten any closer in figuring which male is the time sensitive. The said time sensitive indeed have been using a bio damper to hide his signature. The Doctor is worried the other Time Lords will be impatient and will declare wars on earth to force the time sensitive out.

 The Doctor suspected a soft-spoken Ryan, who is not a soldier, is the time sensitive but she hasn't got any proof. Ryan is always with Graham, his grandfather, working on fixing damaged machinery within the bunker.

 She hasn't formally talk to Sarah Jane either. She is unsure whether she should revealed her identity to her former companion. She is unsure that Sarah Jane would help her in tracking down the time sensitive.

 She noticed a young woman sitting on library all by her lonesome.

 "Hello there, I'm Jane, who are you? Never seen you before and I have been in the bunker for a week." the Doctor asked.

 &&&&

 I was minding my own business, drawing a doodle on my sketch book, when a young woman approached me. I glanced at her. One of the new people Jack mentioned then. I ponder whether I should talk to her or be rude so she left me alone. I closed down my sketch book and said, "I have been ill so I haven't gotten out of my room. Doctor's order."

 Without invitation, Jane took a seat beside me. I tried to push down my annoyance. "You shouldn't sit with me. I'm still ill. Wouldn't want to get you ill too..." I said, hoping to scare her away.

 Jane didn't look bothered. "I'm not worried. I'm always healthy all my life. My mother said that germs are afraid of me." she said as she moved closer to me.

 "Look, Jane, do you mind? I would rather be alone." I said rudely.

 "You haven't tell me your name yet..."

 "Why? Do you already know the name of everyone in the bunker?!" I asked angrily.

 "Well, I meet with everyone already, I think, except those who are on mission." she said. "As for their name, sure, I do, I'm good with names, you see..." Then she started rattle on some name that I recognized and some that I didn't.

 "Alright, I get it, It's (name), okay?" I said in annoyance and a bit impressed.

 "See, that wasn't so hard, was it? Let's be friend, shall we?"

 "I don't do friend." I said immediately.

 "How can you do not do friend? That's impossible!"

 Jane's behaviour started to annoy me so much.

 At the times, Yaz entered the library. When she saw me and Jane, she schooled her expression in a firm manner. "(Name), are you ditching your duty again?" she asked. She was saving me from having to interact with Jane. She knew how much I hated interaction.

 "And who are you?" Jane asked with a tone that almost flirty which make Yaz blushed, which amused me. "Never see you either before. Hello there."

 "I'm Yaz." she introduced herself. "You are Jane, right? Everyone talk about you. You are really famous with the children."

 "I try..." Jane said with a grin.

 "Sorry, Jane, we got to go to, duty call." I said as I grabbed Yaz away from her.

 "Can I go with...?"

 Before she could finish, I pulled Yaz quickly and out of the way.

 "That was mean, (name)." Yaz said as she saw Jane has this sort of kicked puppy look on her face.

 "She is too cheerful, I hated it." I said.

 Yaz sighed.

 &&&&

 The Doctor meet Melody and she realized almost immediately that she is a time sensitive. So there are more than one time sensitive within the resistance, the Doctor concluded. She realized someone has been training little Melody to utilize her power. But Melody is still a child and she slipped out which caused the Doctor to catch on her signature.

 She remembered what Amy said about her reason to join the resistance is for her daughter's sake. The Doctor felt sadness for the whole affair. She wishes she could fix the time sensitive problem. But she is helpless. The Doctor really fond of little Melody for some reason. She had no idea why.

 She has to report to Gallifrey soon and she is unsure whether she should inform them about little Melody. Melody would be safer in Gallifrey. But the Doctor know it is not quite true. She shuddered at the thought someone might try to claim Melody too early. Also if she informed about Melody, she will be ripped away from her parents and that's something the Doctor can't accept. She loves Amy and Rory, they are now her friends. She had managed to make friends here and she knew she would have to betray them eventually.

#thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #shiefenwrites

[bangtan-madi]

546 Days Without You — Three: Day 1

Pairing — Seokjin x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Seokjin, older brother!Yoongi, producer/songwriter!MC, military au (ish), idol au (ish)

Genre — fluff, angst

Word Count — 2.9k

Summary — Kim Seokjin is your entire world, and that world falls apart the moment he and your older brother Yoongi are conscripted into the South Korean military.

Part — 3 / 15

Warnings — not a very fun chapter, a lot of angst, enlistment

(gif not mine. credit to original creator.)

Previous — Next

"Are you sure you want me to do this?"

"Yes. Please, Jagi. I don't think I could—I can't do it myself." Seokjin places the razor in your hands, closing your fingers around it as he plops down on the stool in the bathroom. Deep brown eyes find yours in the reflection of the mirror. "I trust you."

Taking a deep breath, you steady your hands as you select the shear closest to military standards. It'll be a close shave, but that's what's required of every man entering the South Korean military. While you knew this was coming, you didn't expect Seokjin to ask you to be the one to do the act.

Without giving it too much more thought, you raise the razor to his head, release that same breath, and run the blade from the side of his head to the nape. Inches of inky black hair fall. One after another, the strands litter the floor. The whole time, Seokjin maintains his attention on you.

After touching up a few areas around his hairline and neckline, you place the blade on the bathroom counter and round the bench to face Seokjin. For the first time, he shifts his gaze to his reflection. A soft smile tugs at his lips, and he slips an arm around your waist.

"I haven't had hair this short since I was nine," he murmurs.

Absentmindedly, you run your fingers across his scalp, the familiar resistance no longer there. "I kinda like it. You look handsome."

Seokjin pulls you closer and rests his cheek on your shoulder. You rest your chin on his head, turning your face so that your hair hides your expression. The last thing you want is him to see how much all of this is affecting you. 

"Are you okay, Jagiya?"

The tenderness in his voice only makes you want to hold him tighter. "I've been better. You?"

"Not really."

The part that upsets you the most isn't the fact that Seokjin's hair is gone; he's still as handsome as ever. What bothers you is just how much conscription strips each person of their identity, of their freedom, of their uniqueness. Cutting his hair is just another in a long list of things he's had to do to prepare to become a soldier the past few weeks. 

"I know I've said this a lot the past few weeks, more than usual, but I love you and we're gonna get through this."

"I know, Jinnie. I love you, too."

"Also, if you don't smile at least a little bit before tomorrow, I might have to tickle you until you do."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, I would." Seokjin pulls back slightly, his signature goofy grin plastered on his face.

His ever-present giddiness and joy spread to you like wildfire. You run a teasing finger across his jawline and slowly slip from his grasp, walking back towards the master bathroom door.

"Then why don't you come prove it, Seokjin?"

It doesn't take long for the sadness of the incoming enlistment to be temporarily forgotten behind the closed doors of your bedroom, behind the love you both share, behind the promise of the rest of your lives. Even as the cool evening slips away, wrapped in Seokjin's embrace is exactly where you'd want to spend your last few hours together. Alone, with just the company of each other, proving that no amount of time will tarnish what you share.

Seokjin's twenty-eighth birthday is spent in the very last place you want to be, doing the very last thing you want to do. It's spent in Nonsan, Chungcheongnam-do province, where families from all over South Korea have come for the military enlistment ceremony. The ceremony lasts for just a few hours, but after that, we will have to say goodbye to our bright-eyed boys and girls. Beyond the fanfare, food, and festivities, there's an underlying sadness that you try to ignore, if only for Seokjin and Yoongi.

But it doesn't matter in the end. To you, the send-off is just a show, the government's way of trying to ease the hearts of their citizens. The venue of the training facility, where the recruits will spend the next five weeks in basic training, brings back all sorts of memories for you. You were here five years ago to say goodbye to a childhood friend, only to never see him again.

"Do you think the news knows we're going to be here?" Jungkook asks quietly, breaking the silence in the back of the car.

"Maybe," Namjoon responds. "Bang PD said he leaked another location to the press, so hopefully they're across the city at another venue. If they find us, then we will deal with it then."

The youngest nods, turning instead to you. You're seated between Seokjin and Yoongi, clutching both of their hands in each of yours. The van falls silent again, and Jungkook gives you a small smile as your eyes flicker up to meet his. The Golden Maknae has always had a soft spot for you and often treats you like his older sister.

You return the expression, but the smile immediately slips off your face as the van pulls up to the front gate of the training facility. As the driver checks in with the guard, your grasp on their hands tightens.

From the moment the van is let into the training camp until the moment you're all seated in the bleachers around the open training grounds, the silence remains. The field and its seating area are filled with active-duty soldiers, new recruits, and loving families alike. Not one of them pays you or the group much thought, which gives you instant relief.

Both the Min and Kim families find you at the entrance. Mothers embrace their sons, fathers show resolve and strength as they follow suit. Your eyes find your mother's, and it takes all your strength to hold her hand as she coons over Yoongi. Your oldest brother, Junki, ruffles Yoongi's hair and gives him reassuring words.

"You're gonna be fine, Yoongi," he affirms. "It's not nearly as bad as everyone makes it out to be. You're a Min. You're going to be just fine."

Seokjin's mother, the dire beauty that she is, refuses to release her youngest for minutes on end. Seokjin rests his chin on her shoulder and lets her cradle him in her slender arms. His gaze shifts to you, and he offers a tiny smile. His father embraces him after she lets him go, being tucked into the arm of Seokjin's older brother, Seokjung.

Junki finds you after he separates from your brother. He tugs you aside, lowering his voice a bit. "How are you holding up, [Y/n]-ie?" he asks, using your childhood nickname.

You offer a shrug as a response and let him pull you into a tight hug. You've never been as close with Junki as you are with Yoongi—part of the reason being your age difference, as he is six years your senior, and also do to your home life as children—but you've never doubted that either of your brothers cares deeply for you.

"You got this," he murmurs, pulling away after a moment. "Chin up, okay? We need to be strong for them."

"I know. Trying my best."

He ruffles your hair, just as he did to Yoongi. "Proud of you."

Once both sets of parents are semi-stable, the entire group makes its way into the stadium. All heads are low, and you reach for Yoongi and Seokjin's hands once again. Even though they wear recruitment attire—plain black T-shirts and navy pants—the fear of being recognized still remained. It was enough to have the rest of BTS wear hats, masks, and sunglasses in an attempt to disguise their identities. But most of those around you are too busy fussing over their children, siblings, and significant others. No one is paying attention to the strange group of oddly-dressed youngsters, each sitting more closely than the next.

The ceremony begins without much fanfare. Your hands remain glued to the hands of the men most important to you. Despite the patriotism in the air, despite the food and music that flows in from the field, you can't bring yourself to feel one ounce of any of it.

You do not sing the anthem. You do not put your hand over your heart. You do not pledge to the South Korean flag or to the President. The pit in your stomach grows, and anger fills your being. It's nearly impossible to push away, even with your head against Seokjin's broad shoulder and your fingers laced with your brother's.

You feel nothing but pain as you count down the minutes until the moment you have to let them go, for what might be the last time. None of you have any idea if you'll see the two oldest members again, or when they might return. So much is up in the air. So much is out of your control. So much is ever-changing.

The unknown is strong enough to kill.

Towards the end of the ceremony, after the introductions and anthems and speeches presented by the boot camp instructor in South Korean military greens, the new recruits are asked to join him on the field as part of the final send-off.

"Don't worry, you will have another chance in a few moments to say your final goodbyes," he assures the families whose gasps and sobs have started to fill the stadium. "This is merely a formality as they accept their duties as soldiers. Young men, please join me on the grass."

While hesitant, Yoongi and Seokjin obey the orders from the commanding officer. Their hands slip from yours, releasing at the last possible minute as they tread the stairs along with the fifty or so other recruits. Seokjin keeps glancing over his shoulder, while Yoongi's eyes slide to yours every few seconds. They line up with the other enlistees, standing at attention, shoulder to shoulder on the field. 

You slip into the seat nearest your mother, reaching for her hand. The middle-aged woman always felt more at ease with your fingers threaded through hers; she was like Yoongi in that regard.

"These are South Korea's future," the man in military greens continues in a proud and confident tone. "When I call their names, know that those are the names of heroes."

He begins to go down the line, announcing each man and woman's names with authority. Half-way through the process, you hear the two names you've been waiting for.

"Kim Seokjin."

The name sends a murmur across the crowd as people recognize the familiar name of BTS' oldest member. Seokjin smiles softly, dark eyes shifting up to yours. He offers a tiny shrug, his actions saying, "Well, the secret's out. Nothing we can do now."

"Min Yoongi."

The second familiar name causes the voices to raise in volume. The people closest to you start to analyze the group with skeptical eyes. Both Yoongi and Seokjin had come from your row, and they're starting to pick up on it. No one says anything directly to you or the members, or acts on their new-found suspicions, but it causes the others to pull their hats lower on their heads and curl in under their disguises.

This is everything you didn't want.

The officer completes his listing of the new soldiers and turns back to the families in the bleachers. "The ceremony is nearly over. If you would like to say your final goodbyes, please join your sons and daughters on the grass. You will have a few minutes, after which you will be asked to leave, and your brave loved ones will begin their training."

You're up and running towards the field before the soldier finishes his sentence. Bounding over bleachers, dodging family members, hurling over the low fence that separates the audience from the arena, you collide into both Yoongi and Seokjin. Somewhere along the way, you've lost your cap and your scarf, but none of that matters now. 

The crash nearly sends them both off-balance, but they regain it easily as their arms pull you closer. One arm around each of them, you feel Yoongi's face bury into the crook of your neck while Seokjin's lips press against your hair.

"You're going to be fine," Yoongi insists in a low voice. "We're going to be fine. Just think of this as another tour."

"I already tried that one," Seokjin chuckles softly. "Didn't work."

You shake your head and tighten your grip. "No...No, I'm okay. Yoongi's right. It sounds scary, but both of you are strong as hell. I know you'll be okay." Pulling away, you reach for both their hands and squeeze comfortingly. A semblance of a smile graces your face before you add, "If you can be brave, I can be brave, too."

"Oh, so you listen to him but not me?"

Seokjin's comment breaks the intense atmosphere as the rest of the members scurry over to the trio. Taehyung wraps his arms around Yoongi, giving him a back hug, whilst Jungkook does the same to Seokjin. Hoseok and Namjoon stand to their sides, close enough to speak in low tones for only the group to hear. Jimin leans his head against your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist. The Busan native has always been one of your closest friends; he knows how hard today is for you. Your families join in, gathering close to their boys.

Jokes are shared, goodbyes are said, and eventually, the families are called to start wrapping up. Five minutes doesn't feel like long enough, but you'll have to make it work. As Seokjin continues to make the teary-eyed group laugh, Yoongi tugs your sleeve so you turn to him. Taehyung releases his hold on his Daegu brother, allowing the two younger Min siblings to slip away.

"You know I'm not great with telling my feelings," he begins, grip on your sleeve tightening. "I'd rather show how I feel than tell...but I want you to know I love you and that I'm proud of you, [Y/n]. You're never going to find a prouder brother than me."

You wrap your brother in another of your many tight hugs, resting your chin on his shoulder. "You know I feel the same."

"Really? I gave you that heartfelt confession and all you have is, 'Same'?"

You pull away with a giggle, playfully tapping Yoongi's nose with your finger. "Just kidding. I love you and am proud of you, too, Yoongles."

Seokjin approaches after another few moments, after Yoongi turns to your parents and older brother. Your boyfriend slips his hands into yours, his touch tender and loving despite the tiny gesture.

"I wish there weren't strangers here," he sighs, looking down at his feet.

A pang settles in your heart at his words, your grip on his fingers tightening. "I know."

This isn't the first time that your secret relationship has come back to bite you. It was a choice you both made early on, one that you both knew was right at the time. Between his career as an idol and you being an employee of BigHit, everyone—including the company—agreed it was for the best. Both you and Seokjin are very private people who value personal space and a certain level of anonymity. Keeping your relationship on the down-low for the past few years has been difficult, but ultimately worth it.

But there have been a few times where you've wanted to chuck the whole secret relationship thing out the window and throw caution into the wind. This is one of those times. You can't kiss the love of your life goodbye. Sure, you had done so many, many times earlier that day, but this is it. The last time you'll see him for months, at least until he earns personal days.

"It won't be as bad as we think," he murmurs. "After training and after we get assigned to our units, we'll start to get our personal days. You can bet I'll be taking all of mine to see you and the boys. Maybe we can arrange for the same personal days so we can all be together again."

"Time's up," the commander announces. "Families and loved ones, please leave the field."

Seokjin leans in, wrapping you in one last hug before you part ways. He leans down and whispers into your ear, "Love you and miss you already, Jagiya."

"I love you, too, Jinnie." Pulling away, you force a smile onto your face, one that he eventually mirrors. "See you in a minute."

The brunet chuckles at your usual farewell. "Don't you dare be late."

Jimin wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close as the group starts to leave the field. He tugs you along with him. "C'mon, Aein, We gotta go before the press starts a stampede."

His sweet nickname does nothing to deter you, nor does it make your feet move. After a few additional tugs and another hand from Taehyung on your shoulder, you allow the boys to steer you towards the seats, where your parents and older brother stand with tears in their eyes.

You cover your mouth with your hand, and as your brother and lover turn towards the training facilities, their figures blur behind your tears. It takes everything in you to whisper your next words, rather than scream them at the top of your lungs.

"Don't go."

#bangtan-madi writes #546 days without you #546dwy #jin #yoongi #seokjin #suga #hoseok #hobi #jhope #rm #namjoon #jimin #v #taehyung #jungkook #bts v #bts jimin #bts jin #bts jungkook #bts jhope #bts suga #bts rm #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts fluff #jin fluff #jin fanfic

[clockworkrosea]

911, what’s your emergency? (3)

→ summary: they were dangerous. she knew that, and yet, she continues to hunt them. and this? this is her retribution.

→ pairings: jeon jungkook/fem!reader, kim namjoon/oc

→ warnings: graphic depiction of torture, mentions of torture, a lot of mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of the mafia, mentions of arson, mentions of fire. graphic description of what the shankill butchers did at the end a/n. 

→ wc: 1.5k

→ a/n: alright sorry this took so long, i first was worried with the depiction of the police then i realized corrupt is not that inaccurate, and then i was trying to get a decent wc. please give me feedback! also if anyone wants to be tagged send me a message, comment or ask or smth. aLso i ended the chapter there bc i didn’t want to reveal who was who yet. y’all can guess tho 👀👀. enjoy the chapter! also i made exo bts’s enemies in the story just for convenience they aren’t actually enemies

→ disclaimer: this is not an accurate depiction of bts and anyone else mentioned in this fic. this is also not an accurate depiction of seoul’s police department, government, and any other institutions mentioned in this fic. 

series masterlist

When Y/N woke up, hours later, she quickly figured out what had happened. They'd laid a trap, and she had walked right into it. She tugged at her restraints, cringing as they chafed her skin roughly. Her head was pounding, and she felt exhausted, but she looked around and analyzed her situation. 

The room was bloodied and dirtied. The blood pooled  Y/N scrunched up her nose in disgust as the smell finally hit her. The coppery scent did nothing to help with her headache. Carefully, she kept her eyes off the ground, the grisly sight of dried and fresh blood enough to make anyone retch.

It felt like hours before someone walked into the room. Y/N groaned, tilting her head up slowly to glance at who it was. Hannah was in front of her, looking down with what seemed to be interest. Despite the gore around the room, she seemed to be calm, albeit slightly disgusted. 

“Well, well, well. I won’t lie, I expected better of you.” Hannah said, looking her up and down. 

"Getting kidnapped by the mafia isn't very high up on my list of dangers, unfortunately. Sorry to disappoint, though." Y/N snorted, staring at her kidnapper. Well, technically the orchestrator. Hannah didn’t look strong enough to drag her all the way to their car. Y/N waited for the pain that was surely to pay her back for her sassiness. 

Surprisingly, Hannah snickered. 

“I like you. Sassy. Unfortunately no one else that lives here would’ve taken that too kindly, so I’d be a little more careful.” She warned, although the effect was lost as a result of the smirk on her face. Hannah left the room, daintily stepping around the blood stains. 

“You’ll need to convince Namjoon to let you out. Although, I’m not totally sure you’d enjoy it out here.” Hannah said cheerily, shutting the heavy metal door. Y/N blinked in surprise, not actually expecting to get help. She nods slowly, careful to keep her head as stable as possible. 

It felt like hours had passed when another person finally entered. This was the other man that had been standing by Hannah during the ill-fated conversation. Ill-fated for Y/N, of course. She observed the man, assuming this was Namjoon. 

He was...different from what she'd expected. Realistically, neither of the leaders were what she’d expected. Both exuded power, yet they had none of the sadism she’d come to expect from mafia leaders. They were relaxed, yet they had the traditional personality type of a strong mob boss. 

Y/N had also talked to them for a grand total of 5 minutes. Namjoon stared at her, seemingly contemplating something. Y/N shifted nervously, running her tongue over her lips. Finally, he smirked and spoke.

"I think we'll let you go. No point in keeping you here." She nearly tipped the weak wooden chair over in her shock, barely managing to tip it back in time. When she looked back at Namjoon, he was smirking as he watched her struggle. 

“You’re smarter than Jungkook gives you credit for. I’d thank him, if I were you. Had he not been so annoying you’d be stuck in here, and, well, it's not exactly a great place to be." Namjoon motioned to the blood-covered walls. He stepped over to her seat carefully and slashed through the ties binding her legs and feet. 

Y/N stood up hesitantly, taking a couple steps forward. Namjoon followed behind her, with practiced grace, and he watched as she slipped. She looked at her hands, sticky with drying blood. It slowly dripped off of her hands as she carefully got up. Namjoon stepped past her, opening the door. 

She left the room hesitantly, slightly intimidated at the thought of staying in a house with 8 mafia members. Despite the bloodiness of the room, it had become familiar, and Y/N wasn’t particularly eager to leave it. 

“Down the hall, on the right.” Namjoon’s voice broke her out of her thoughts. When she looked at him, slight confusion evident, he motioned to her hands. She nodded, before making her way down the carpeted hallway. 

It was modest, yet subtly extravagant. They didn’t have many decorations, but it’d clearly been strategic. She could see there was thought behind the placement of plants, desks, and chairs in the hallway. Even while she’d been living in her home, her paranoia, similarly to many other members of the police force, had been through the roof. It was probably much worse for them, considering the design of one hallway reflected clear defenses against intruders. Feeling Namjoon’s eyes on her, she quickly stepped into the bathroom. 

It didn’t take long to wash the blood off. Once she’d stepped back out, Namjoon was waiting for her, face still impassive. He nodded to her, motioning for her to follow him. Y/N stumbled slightly as she rushed to catch up with his brisk pace.

“Where are we going?” She couldn’t help but ask him. He shot her a sharp glare, quickly shutting her up. It also surprised her, considering what she asked was an innocent question. To be fair, he’d also seemed significantly more tense after she’d finished washing her hands. Something probably happened in the five minutes, and she was on the receiving end of his annoyance.

It took a couple minutes, winding through  halls and rooms, to find wherever Namjoon's destination was. When Y/N looked inside, all she does is sigh. This had been coming, she knew, but that didn’t make her any more eager to meet them. 

Namjoon cleared his throat, bringing the attention to the two standing in the archway. 

Y/N didn’t recognize anyone, as expected, but she matches faces to positions and positions to crimes. As with everyone else in the room, she was well aware she was at a major disadvantage. Namjoon guided her over to an empty couch, and Y/N sat down carefully.

First, she looked for the doctor. Y/N first figured out his existence in the early stages of her assignment, when the previous detective had quit. It was well known that there were 8 members of Bangtan, yet Y/N had only been able to find seven distinct signatures among the crimes. Originally, she’d assumed that the final member had been a drug dealer or enforcer, rather than participating in the murders. It’d taken a month and a small gang war for her to conclude that the last one had to be a doctor. There had been no increase in hospital admissions within Seoul, yet Y/N knew they’d been injured. 

The doctor takes the shape of a smiling man with sharp almond eyes. 

Next, she scanned for the arsonist. The previous detective, Suho, had tracked the string of fires supposedly in connection to BTS. 4 months later, Y/N had confirmed the Arson to be among the inner circle. EXO, a then-recent enemy of Bangtan, had had their temporary headquarters burned down. It was well known that Bangtan had orchestrated the attack, allowing them to uncover another member of the group.

The arsonist takes the shape of a glaring man with twitching hands. 

The interrogator, a terrifying force of death. He’d been the easiest to uncover, and Y/N’s team had tried to track most of his movements. Suho had told her about the first time they’d found one of his bodies. It’d been mutilated beyond recognition. The final cause of death had been a deep slash to the jugular, like the Shankill Butchers. Electrical burns decorated the poor man’s skin, and shallow slashes covered his entire body. The coroner’s report had specified that none of the cuts had been deep enough to kill. Y/N got through about half of the report before she’d had to put it down. 

The interrogator takes the shape of a man with doe eyes and scarred hands. 

Finally, the leaders. Some of their smaller, less experienced teams had tracked the movements of the kingpin early on. Suho’s team had been the one to uncover the other mob boss: a well-hidden daughter of a dead businessman. It hadn’t been a surprise no one had discovered her, considering the lack of information on the whole network. According to Suho’s informant, no one in the lower ranks had ever seen the other boss. Shortly after, they’d found his body, tortured and broken. 

The leaders are a man and a woman with angry eyes and bloodied hands. 

“So,” Hannah spoke, looking at her with hidden amusement. “I suppose we should introduce ourselves. After all, we already know so much about you.” 

“You know me. Kind of. I’m Hannah Zhang. Bangtan’s godmother, donna, leader, etc. If you hurt any of us, I will kill you.” She continued cheerfully. Then, Hannah motioned for another man to talk. Even before he began, Y/N identified him as their doctor. He seemed kind, she thought. Then again, he also was in the inner circles of a top mafia well-known for their ability to kill.

→ tagged: @btstxtgenre​

→ a/n: again i get this could be a little confusing, so feel free to send me any questions you have and i’ll answer them :) the shankill butchers were a group of loyalists who operated out of the shankill area in belfast, ireland. they were responsible for many violent sectarian attacks, in which they would slash their victims’ throats nearly through to their spines. basically they were violent and almost beheaded people but not quite 

#mafia au #MAFIA BTS #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #exo #au #suho #oc #min yoongi #suga #agust d #kim taehyung #bts v #kim namjoon #rm #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x you #kim namjoon x oc #bts seokjin #yandere bts x reader #yandere jk #yandere jungkook #yandere jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #min yoongi x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim taehyung x reader #kim seokjin x reader

[tierneysinclair]

“Nobody’s ever been arrested for a murder; they have only ever been arrested for not planning it properly.” ― Terry Hayes, I Am Pilgrim

Basic Information

Full name: Tierney Sinclair Pronunciation: Tier-Knee Sin-Claire Nickname(s): Not if you like to live. Tierney doesn’t do nicknames. Tierney is the only name he’ll answer to. Birthdate:  September 8, 1979 Age: 40 Zodiac: Virgo Gender: Cis-Male Pronouns: he/him Romantic Orientation: Straight Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Nationality: American Ethnicity: White Current Location: Miami, Florida Living Conditions: Tierney lives in a small apartment above his new garage. It’s nothing fancy and that’s the way he likes it. Well worn couches, outdated kitchen appliances, wear worn towels. He doesn’t live in the slums but owning only new things has never been a part of Tierney’s lifestyle.

Background

Birthplace: Las Vegas, Nevada Hometown: N/A Social Class: Presents as lower-middle class but has enough money in the bank to be upper class if he really wanted to be. But he never will. Educational Achievements: None. Tierney never went to school. By the time he was released for the testing facility it was too late and too hard to get someone like him caught up. Sporadically home schooled by staff and other people Tierney isn’t the sort of person you want on your trivia team. He struggles with complex math, history, and all other assorted ‘average school knowledge’. Father: Unknown Mother: Unknown Sibling(s): Unknown Birth Order: N/A Pets: None Previous Relationships: Nothing lasts longer than a night. Do one night stands count? Arrests: A lot. By the time Tierney aged out of the foster program he’d been arrested more times than he had fingers and toes. Nothing major, minor mischief and petty theft. It wasn’t until he was picked up by the Syndicate that he started doing bigger crimes. And by then he had the support network to not get arrested. Prison Time: Surprisingly, not a lot. Accumulated, no more than a few months. It pays to have friends in low places.

Occupation & Income

Current Occupation: Hitman for the Blackburn Syndicate & Freelance Motorcycle Restorer Dream Occupation: None. Tierney has a limited view of both his life and the world. The idea of having a ‘dream’ anything is a foreign concept to him. Past Job(s): He was boy once at a greasy diner once. When they found out he’d lied about who he was a week later he was fired. Chicago wasn’t kind to kids with rap sheets and level five rankings. Falling in with the Syndicate has been the only ‘real’ job he’s ever had. Spending Habits: Tierney is a very frugal person. He buys almost everything second hand or used and very rarely spends it on anything new. The only expensive things he owns are his bikes and a flat screen TV. Tierney’s not ashamed to admit most of his money gets spent on bike parts anyways. Debt: Never. Credit cards mean government ability to track him. And being in debt t other people is a one way trip to being killed over it at a later date. Tierney repays any debts he can’t avoid as quickly as possible, but he tends to avoid accruing debts as much as possible. Most Valuable Possession: Some people might say it would be his bikes, and from a purely financial stand point it most definitely is, but according to Tierney it’s the Blackburn Syndicate, hands down.

Skills & Abilities

Physical Strength: Above Average | Average | Below Average

Tierney works out twice a day, every day, no exceptions. He needs to be in top physical condition for every job and now it’s just become a part of his daily habits. He’s supremely strong in his own right but mix his powers in with it and a supremely dedicated force of will he could probably lift a car above his head.

Speed: Above Average | Average | Below Average

Tierney isn’t the fastest hitman on the market but he’s perfectly capable of darting in and out of a situation with speed. It’s part of the job to act quickly and what he lacks in sheer speed he knows he more than makes up for elsewhere.

Intelligence: Above Average | Average | Below Average

Tierney never went to school. What schooling he did get the few years he had between testing and aging out was sporadic at best. He’s not ashamed of his faults but he doesn’t go around talking about them much either. Besides, being able to recite the presidents holds no bearing on his life choices so...what’s it matter? Tierney knows how to do his job exceptionally well. What Tierney doesn’t know ranges from complex math to the English Oxford Comma.

Accuracy: Above Average | Average | Below Average

Tierney’s powers require a certain degree of needed accuracy coupled with the fact he’s exceptionally talented with a range of deadly weapons. He prides himself in hitting exactly what he’s aiming at every time. Sure, he misses, but that usually because his target makes an unexpected move before he can account for it.

Agility: Above Average | Average | Below Average

He’s getting older, he won’t lie about that, and that’s starting to show. Tierney is less likely to look like a stunt double these days. No somersaults or daring roof top leaps happen these days. Besides, it’s more dramatic to sweep in like an avenging angel and sweep out just as quickly. Agility is good for running away. But you only run away when you get caught. And Tierney never gets caught.

Stamina: Above Average | Average | Below Average

Tierney’s powers are tied directly to his stamina. It’s taken him years and years of practice to build up the stamina he has now. He can use his powers for hours before he starts to feel winded and hours more before he gets tired. (Unless he goes for the super taxing activities like lifting buildings or psionic explosions.) It’s perhaps his greatest strength, his ability to keep going when others weaker than him might stop.

Teamwork: Ciara Sawyer is his go-to partner. Hell, most would call her his only partner. He doesn’t like working with other people and tries very hard not to do it. He will when he must but he’ll be begrudging about it the whole time. Talents/Hobbies: Motorcycles, Lockpicking, Murder Shortcomings: His sense of justice, the inability to kill someone who isn’t involved with what he’s doing. It’s a bonus he can erase minds when he wants to. Anyone who knows Tierney from work and outside of work knows he has a severe weak spot for his gang. Touch a hair on their heads and he tends to lose focus. Languages Spoken: English Drive?: Yes. A MV Agusta Brutale. Jump-Start a Car?: Yes Change a Flat Tire?: All the time. Ride a Bicycle?: No way. In hell. Swim?: Not because he likes to. Play an Instrument?: Nope Play Chess?: Yes Braid Hair?: No Tie a Tie?: Yes. Of course! Pick a Lock?: Oh hell yeah. With his mind. Cook?: Yes, but not well.

Physical Appearance & Characteristics

Faceclaim: Joel Kinnaman Eye Color: Brownish/Greenish Hair Color: Ashy Blonde Hair Type/Style/Length: Average/Well Kept/Short Glasses/Contacts?: None Dominant Hand: Right Height: 6′ 2″ Weight: 187lbs Build: Athletic Exercise Habits: Two session, morning and evening. Every day, two hours. With intermittent practice in between with others. Skin tone: Fair Tattoos: Left shoulder reaching to just below his elbow, spiders out to cover some of his chest and back. Got it to cover up an old gunshot scar. A faded string of numbers on his right arm (080879-58-05). Piercings: None Marks/Scars: Tierney is covered in scars. From battle wounds to childhood scrapes, to remnants of his life as a test mutant. Most can be found on his chest and back but part of why he wears pants and sleeves is to hide the others. Don’t want his identifying marks to get out and doesn’t like explaining to others what happened to him in order to get that many scars. Clothing Style: Dark colors, long pants, long sleeves, deep pockets. Usually a coat when the weather allows. The more places to hide the things he needs to work the better. But he cleans up well, he has plenty of suits in his closet too. Usually second hand stuff, the only time he buys something fancy is when he’s on a job. Jewelry: A set of dog tags labeling him a level five mutant. Nothing more. Allergies: None Diet: Average. More fast food than probably healthy. Physical Ailments: Stiff knees. Jumped off a few too many building in his younger years. Spent too many hours kneeling behind walls after that. They don’t bother him much but anyone with eyes can see they’re stiff. His left shoulder is also stiff, he favors it. Perhaps on of his worst gun shot injuries to date. It haunts him. And aches when the weather changes.

Psychology

MBTI Type: ISTJ-A (The Logistician)

ISTJs are often called inspectors. They have a keen sense of right and wrong, especially in their area of interest and/or responsibility. They are noted for devotion to duty. Punctuality is a watchword of the ISTJ. As do other Introverted Thinkers, ISTJs often give the initial impression of being aloof and perhaps somewhat cold. Effusive expression of emotional warmth is not something that ISTJs do without considerable energy loss. ISTJs are most at home with "just the facts, Ma'am." They seem to perform at highest efficiency when employing a step-by-step approach.

Enneagram Type: Type 6 (The Skeptic)

The committed, security-oriented type. Sixes are reliable, hard-working, responsible, and trustworthy. Excellent "troubleshooters," they foresee problems and foster cooperation, but can also become defensive, evasive, and anxious—running on stress while complaining about it. They can be cautious and indecisive, but also reactive, defiant and rebellious. They typically have problems with self-doubt and suspicion. At their Best: internally stable and self-reliant, courageously championing themselves and others.

Moral Alignment: Lawful Neutral

A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition, or a personal code directs her. Order and organization are paramount to her. She may believe in personal order and live by a code or standard, or she may believe in order for all and favor a strong, organized government.

Temperament: Choleric

Cholerics are extroverted, quick-thinking, active, practical, strong-willed, and easily annoyed. They are self-confident, self-sufficient, and very independent minded. They are brief, direct, to the point, and firm when communicating with others.

Element: Earth & Fire Emotional Stability: Stable Introvert or Extrovert?: Introvert Obsession(s): Motorcycles. Tierney doesn’t know a lot outside of how to kill someone and get away with it. But he knows practically everything there is to know about motorcycles. How they work, how the break, how to fix them. Everything. Some would call him obsessed but Tierney calls it laser focused. Compulsion(s): Protecting his family. It’s what’s on his mind in every situation. All of his actions are dictated by this fact. Even for decisions that aren’t going to impact the Syndicate are measured against this need. It’s never occurred to him that it might, in fact, be a problem. It’s just natural. Phobia(s): Mutant testing facilities. It’s irrational, especially now, to be afraid of getting taken back to the white walled hellscape he grew up in. But he is. He scrubs his name clean where ever he goes and actively avoids anyone in a lab coat who starts asking questions. He even takes down fliers asking for mutants to ‘willingly’ submit to testing. He doesn’t talk about those years for damn good reasons. Addiction(s): None Drug Use: None Alcohol Use: Often Prone to Violence?: Always Prone to Crying?: No Believe in Love at First Sight?: No

Mannerisms

Accent: Depends. A bit of a hodgepodge of Boston and Midwestern. Tends to adapt to the common accent after a while when staying in a place for a prolonged period of time. Speech Quirks: None Hobbies: Motorcycle Repair, Motorcycle Rebuilding Habits: Spinning things in the air when he’s concentrating. Leg bouncing. Ordering more food than he can eat so he has left overs in the fridge. Nervous Ticks: Rubbing his nose and spinning objects in the air at high rates of speed. Drives/Motivations: Protecting his family. Fears: Losing his family, someone dying on him, being taken back in for testing. Sense of Humour?: Dry. Like the desert. Do They Curse Often?: Like. All the time.

Favorites

Animal: Bear Beverage: Heineken Beer and/or Black Coffee Book: None. Tierney hates reading. Color: Deep Green Food: Ciara’s Flower: None Gem: Emeralds Mode of Transportation: Motorcycles Scent: Fresh brewed coffee, rain on the horizon, motorcycle oil, pizza grease on your fingers Sport: Football and Hockey Weather: Rain Vacation Destination: None

Attitudes

Greatest Dream: End mutant testing. Tierney sees nothing productive in the act and goes out of his way to end it whenever and wherever he can. Mutants are people. Not lab rats to be poked at or taken away from their families. Greatest Fear: Losing one of his family and being taken back for mutant testing. Most at Ease When: Elbow deep in one of his bikes with of his closest friends lounging on the couch across the way. Least as Ease When: He doesn’t know what’s going on around him. When his plans has fallen through and he’s no longer in control of what’s happening around him. Worst Possible Thing That Could Happen: Alma being murdered. Biggest Achievement: Taking out the president of the company that held him as a test subject when he was a child. Biggest Regret: He has exactly Eleven. Eleven deaths that weren’t supposed to happen but did.

#hc #mrtask #murder tw #violence tw #abuse tw

[h3l10tr0p3]

P S Y C H O P A S S

A U

I am obsessed with this, okay? please ignore my word vomit and scroll away (I can't seem to use the cut for some reason) Gomenasai!

Izuku cracking the exam like Akane Tsunemori and Katsuki being the Law Enforcer/ Latent Criminal with a police badge- (who is like 3 years older than Izuku). So the psychopass world is governed by this spontaneous cymatic brain scanner thingies which basically calculate your emotional state with a number (by a computer system called Sibyl, but here we'll call it A41) called Psychopass right? If this crime coefficient is above 100 it means you are likely to commit a crime (a Latent Criminal) and, the public safety bureau can paralyze you and imprison you, if over 300 it means you are lethal to society and they are authorized to kill you. And ofcourse they get their own cool Dominator guns to blast people to organic mush.

Psychopass is a fickle thing. When you are under stress it can shoot up easily, so regular mental care and strong minds are valued a lot in current society. Having a low psychopass or a ‘clear hue' is encouraged, while having a high psychopass or a ‘cloudy hue' is looked down upon. Criminals and Latent Criminals alike are considered harmful and recieve harsh treatment. They are not even considered human most of the times.

So enter newbie Midoriya Izuku, Inspector of the public safety bureau, who is supposed to learn the ropes under the guidance of his laconic senior Iida, an Inspector, as the newest member of Unit 1 MWPSB. Iida and Katsuki are always clashing and he refuses to believe that the Enforcers, being latent Criminals or ‘hunting dogs'( as they are referred to) are not to be trusted as they are sub-human. Shouto, Kyouka, Shinsou and Denki are also Enforcers like Katsuki who are appointed under Tenya and Izuku.

On their first case, Katsuki is haughty towards Izuku and constantly mocks him for his inexperience while chasing a criminal. He nicknames him Deku for being useless and letting the criminal get away. The search gets really intense and Katsuki proves himself to be a seasoned ‘hunting dog' to smoke out the criminal but his methods are near brutal. The criminal reveals his connection to the LoV when finally cornered and Katsuki flies into fury. During which Izuku is forced to paralyze Katsuki because his psychopass was skyrocketting on the chase and Izuku was afraid he'd exceed 300 and become a criminal irrevocably.

Katsuki has to be hospitalized and Izuku feels horrible as he let the criminal get away and hurt Katsuki. But Katsuki finally acknowledges that Izuku does have the balls to finally fire a Dominator gun, something he was reluctant to aiming at anyone before. But Katsuki says that firing a Dominator isn’t equivalent to earning the title of an Inspector, and that is something ‘Deku’ has to work for. Pouting at Katsuki's insistence to use that name, Izuku retaliates by calling him ‘Kacchan'. Katsuki almost breaks his bed restraints trying to get up and kick Izuku for such a cutesy nickname.

Izuku quickly understands that most Enforcers didn't approve of him yet, and even Katsuki ignores him for most of the time. He feels like they need him to prove himself in order to give him their acknowledgement. But as days go by and different cases are encountered, Unit 1 realizes that Izuku, with his unfaltering dedication, superb observation and analytical skills, is a force to be reckoned with. And if that weren't enough, Izuku reveals that he is an autodidact Mentalist – someone who is able to Trace the Criminal’s actions with exceptional psych profiling and sheer empathy. This makes Izuku's psychopass highly fluctuant- from single digits to numbers edging on 100. It makes him a little reckless and fearsome but the little Inspector soon makes friends with everyone except Katsuki, but Izuku, emboldened by his dear friend Uraraka’s advice, is determined to get him to open upto him.

Once, during a stakeout, when they are alone, Izuku tries to get Katsuki to open up and mentions why Izuku wanted to be an Inspector after Katsuki commented that he still considers his optimistic and cheerful personality inappropriate for the job.

Izuku tells him that as a child he was terribly sick all the time and he was really depressed because of it. Most children go through psychopass milestones like babies and toddlers have developmental milestones. Children are born with high psychopasses because they have yet to be integrated into society completely. It's one reason why A41 doesnt read psychopasses of children under 9 routinely, but once in 6 months. (Denki is also an example of a child whose pyschopass was abnormally high past the age of 10, and he was forced to become an Enforcer or go to jail, so he chose the former) Izuku's psychopass was too high for his age since he was 4 because of his extraordinary empathetic abilities, and people judged him superficially for it. His body was really weak too, and very few people knew that, so he was constantly bullied as well. When he was 9 he had to get brain surgery done so he was in the hospital a lot. Yagi Toshinori was admitted in the hospital around the same time and they became gast friends. The Inspector often enthralled Izuku with stories and cases, he often forgot Izuku's tender age and spoke of gruesome crime scenes to him as if it were natural to do so. Izuku, himself, was so awed by the courage and heroism of the Inspector that he has dreamt of becoming one himself since. Izuku ends by mentioning that after he finally went through the surgery, Toshinori never came back to see him again, but Izuku wanted to meet him. Katsuki grows pensive and remorseful at the name of Yagi Toshinori, which makes Izuku curious. When he asks if Katsuki knows the man, he is met with the curt answer, “ Toshinori is dead. Has been for a long while".

Shocked, Izuku gulps. He isn't too surprised to hear that because Toshinori was a very frail man when they had met. It was unlikely that he lived for long. But Izuku still cries profusely over him as Katsuki silently watches him sob and feels guilt rip through his chest.

There are countless times where Katsuki saves Izuku's life or reprimands Izuku for being so reckless, and each time, Izuku feels getting more intrigued and charmed by his explosive blond colleague. How can he not be? Especially after seeing how Katsuki takes down a combat bot with his bare fists at the training gym? (Izuku blushes a deep red, averting his eyes from sweat-glistened washboard abs and insisting that Katsuki wear a goddamn shirt because geez! You are so distracting, Kacchan!!!)

They grow close over the several life-threatening incidents they encounter. Izuku manages to get Katsuki to open up about the littlest of things and takes immense joy in each little successful interaction. Katsuki doesn't understand why Izuku is so happy for such small things, but it warms his cockles in an unfamiliar way. No matter how much he pushes it away, Izuku has wormed his way under his skin and made some kind of home in him. Katsuki eventually stops fighting this warm feeling.

Their relationship deepens over solving cases, they grow closer and closer. Katsuki starts to teach him how to fight, spars with him in training room. Katsuki comes to know that Izuku had a frail body and shot nerves (thus his high pain tolerance) and hardly any money for proper treatment. Izuku has put years of effort into overcoming his weaknesses. He might not be the strongest fighter, but he is efficient and knows to hit where it hurts. And frankly, Katsuki is impressed by his dedication. After a particularly exhausting case, when Izuku is bogged down about being too late to save some victims, Katsuki invites him to his quarters for some well-deserved dinner because Izuku has been running himself ragged without food for several days.

They start bonding over drinks and Katsuki finally feels it's time to tell Izuku about his past. He tells him how he was once a Inspector like Izuku himself, but because of his fault his senior, Enforcer Toshinori Yagi was murdered in a very gruesome manner. The perpetrators were related to LoV. The loss of his mentor and the associated trauma caused Katsuki's psychopass to rise beyond 100 and he was demoted to Law Enforcer. But despite that Katsuki continues his fervent search for the LoV. Izuku is shocked to hear this but he comforts Katsuki and tells him that he wants to help.

As their cases get harder to crack and Izuku starts spending more time with Katsuki, and he sees all the gruesome, traumatizing things that make his Psychopass climb steadily from stable 20s to 60s and so on – Iida confronts him and tells Izuku to stay away from Katsuki. He explains that Izuku is becoming more reckless, violent and brutal in his methods due to Katsuki, and although these methods always give results they are unreliable. but Izuku refuses to listen to him.

So an LoV related case comes up where Izuku gets seperated from the rest, Katsuki is going crazy to get him back and Izuku finally meets the guy behind the LoV, Tomura Shigaraki who has kidnapped Uraraka in an indirect attempt to lure out Katsuki buy baiting Izuku instead. LoV wants Katsuki to drop the investigation, maybe even lure him to their side since he has a penchant for destruction. Tomura threatens to kill Uraraka and goads Izuku to try and shoot him with the Dominator. However, the dominator refuses to acknowledge Shigaraki and his psychopass is shown unreadable. However, the dominator catches the psychopass of Uraraka, who under stress has a fatally high number. Izuku realizes the dominator will only hurt the victim and not Shigaraki. He refuses to wield the dominator, but Tomura goads him to shoot him anyway and throws an old-fashioned gun at him, urging him to make his own decisions instead of letting A41 making that decision for him.

For the first time ever since he fired a Dominator n Eliminator mode Izuku is torn about taking a life without A41's judgement.

Just when Katsuki breaks into the scene, he watches Izuku take the shot at Tomura. The shot grazes Tomura, but he is mostly uninjured. Uraraka is killed by Tomura. (r.i.p Uraraka T_T). Tomura escapes, but Izuku is a mess. He cannot accept that he tried to actually kill a person. Katsuki tries to comfort him, but soon Izuku's emotions swing from despair to cold rage.

At this moment Iida busts in and threatens Katsuki to stay away by aiming the Dominator at him

Katsuki tries to cover Izuku from the Dominator cause he knows Izuku's psychopass might exceed 100 right now in his emotional state. And it reads Katsuki's psychopass perfectly. But Izuku walks around Katsuki and in a quiet deadly fury he asks Katsuki to move away. Then he challenges the Dominator/A41 system to read his psychopass and give him a reason to believe that it works when it didn't work on Tomura.

Katsuki tries to drag him back but too late

The Dominator reads Izuku's pyschopass at it's highest limit 999. But before it can switch from the Non lethal paralyzer mode to Lethal Eliminator - Izuku's psychopass changes to 000.

Iida believes his Dominator is glitching. But Katsuki and Izuku both know from previous doubts that the A41 system is flawed and it cannot read psychopass of certain people.

Turns out, Izuku is one of them

(tbc?)

(i love the idea of them weilding Dominators)

#bkdk #bakudeku #psychopass bkdk au #psychopass #psychopass has me by the balls ok? #sorry #bnha fanfic idea

[gwoongi]

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 ✰ taehyung (3)

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 kim taehyung / reader genre: zombie apocalypse au words: 5114

“This won’t be forever, Y/N,” he said, with such a sincere and genuine voice that you felt your stomach knot and churn, a lump forming in your throat. Suddenly you need another drink of water. “You won’t be sad forever.”

warnings: graphic content, death references, gore, swearing, dark themes

a/n: some people really might dislike the flashback additions i add, but they’re pretty much there to add context to the situation + to also develop the characters more, without me adding unnecessary dialogue or details which will slow each scene. omg also a note, (potential writer bias here), but y/n is a very . troubled character, and so she really isn’t this “strong unaffected leader”, she has some issues + i hope the story reflects these issues respectfully ((bc i worked rlly hard))

01. denver ↝ 02. holiday with me ↝ 03. sad forever ↝ 04. surely ↝ 05. scorpion ↝ 06. shakespeare

5 WEEKS LATER.

At nobody’s surprise, the car ran out of gas around three days after Oklahoma. Since leaving the car on the side of the road in the middle of Oklahoma, it had been just Taehyung and yourself, walking the open road, deprived of water and a place to sleep. It was impossible to tell where you were now, walking like biters yourselves, staggering across the dusty roads.

Waking to the sound of refreshing birdsong, you squinted in the tawny sunlight. Rolling your head to your shoulder, your gaze landed on Taehyung crouched before you, the back of his hand pressed against your forehead worriedly, a frown etched to his lips.

You yawned, and he moved away his hand. “You’ve got a fever.”

A shaky laugh left your lips. “Ain’t that funny.”

His boots shifted on the gravel of the floor inside the multi storey car-park, your back leaned against the graffiti covered wall. A halo above your head in yellow spray-paint, Taehyung figured you looked pretty despite looking as you’d expect in an apocalypse. Though, he didn’t bet that he looked any better.

“Tired?” he asked, cocking his head to look at you as he zipped up his backpack.

“My legs hurt,” you admitted quietly, voice hoarse. “Thirsty.”

“Me too,” Taehyung muttered, stroking hairs away from your damp forehead. “We’ll find somewhere to stay, I promise, and I’ll find us something to drink. Just...don’t close your eyes, okay? Try and stay awake for me, okay?”

Keeping your eyes open as he helped lift you off the floor felt like the most impossible thing in an impossible world. “I’m gonna die from dehydration. Isn’t that hilarious?”

He grunted, supporting your weight. “We can’t afford to think like that.”

“‘m gonna die on you,” you continued, attempting to walk without his help. “I’m the leader and I’ve led you to death.”

“Don’t think like that,” Taehyung replied, out of breath slightly as he carried himself and your weight down a short flight of stairs. Despite being your companion crossing the country, he wasn’t sure if he was comfortable enough calling you a friend, yet. There was a tension, an unspoken thing between the two of you - a refusal to get to know each other, but an urge to know everything at once. Taehyung never asked questions, feeling he wasn’t close enough to get the answers. Still, same as before, he needed you to survive, and you needed him, now more than ever. “You can’t let it guilt you. Stop talking, it’s gonna wear you out. Just stay quiet and keep walking, okay? I’m right here.”

“I’m the worst leader.”

“Nu-huh. You’re the best leader, okay? You’ve got us so far. Don’t give up now, come on.”

Heaving himself forwards through the closed iron door, a flood of light made you grimace with a loud hiss, bringing your sleeve to cover your eyes as Taehyung carried you across the length of the car-park. Occasionally he would stumble, jumping you back up straight with an arm around his shoulders, your legs giving away and dragging like a doll across the concrete.

“Hey, hey, stay awake, okay?” Taehyung said, his voice more frantic now, as he crouched his head to look at your face closer. The sweat had opened up your pores, and your dark circles were even more prominent as a feature of your face. He didn’t mind. “Eyes on me, Y/N. Can you hear me?”

An incoherent grumble was good enough and he cursed softly, walking quicker across the park, his breaths laboured and a line of sweat building up at his hairline, his fringe sticking like mixture to a bowl to his forehead. Each step was followed with a breathless, “please,”, his fingers tightening on your skin, his heart physically hurting at the thought of letting you down...just a bit further, now. Just a little bit further-

Losing his steps, stumbling over his own feet as you hung limp by his side, Taehyung let you fall to the ground with a soft exhale of breath, your hair spilling out like a halo around your head. The sun was hot on his skin as he bent over you, checking for a pulse, relieved when he found it. By now, you were unresponsive.

He was panicked- his hands trembled as he cradled your face in his hands, calling you back to him, searching for a response in your face. Never before had he felt so afraid at the thought of being alone in this world, alone without a companion- without a possible friend. Without you.

“Stop right there!”

Hands still cradling your face, Taehyung looked up immediately, his eyes squinting in the midday sunlight. In a few seconds, they focused on a dark silhouette standing on top of a barricaded storage container, painted a navy blue with the words, “WILL SHOOT ON SIGHT!” sprayed on. Clearly he hadn’t noticed that. He was mostly thankful they hadn’t shot on sight. The figure did not move, standing still with their gun pointed in his direction. Without looking, too, Taehyung could sense about three other bandits pointing guns at him, masks pulled up over their faces, caps covering eyes.

“Please-”

“Are you infected?” the same voice called, gruff and loud. A shooter nearby shot down an approaching biter, slow in movement but regardless, still a threat.

“What? No, we-”

“Is she bit?” the voice repeated, pointing the gun at your body laying on the floor, sweat pooling by your arms. Taehyung looked down at you worriedly and then looked back up.

“No!” he was confident.

The figure lowered their gun for a moment. “Is she dead?”

“No,” Taehyung replied without a second of breath. “No! We’ve been walking for days and we ran out of water. She’s dehydrated.”

A second shooter scurried across the top of the container. “The girl’s down. Not a threat.”

“Anybody who’s not us is a threat.”

The second shooter frowned behind the mask. “Give them the water. They ain’t a threat to us yet. You’d want them to do the same.”

Although he seemed irritated, the first figure lowered his gun and pushed past the female shooter, hopping down from the container onto the floor. The girl remained indifferent, glancing at Taehyung in the middle of the street. Wordless, she waved her hand and the containers swiftly shifted, as if on cue, revealing a gate into a cluttered road, decorated with newspapers and large crates with, “NORTHGATE” engraved on them. Taehyung let out a sigh of immense relief, shifting to collect you in his arms, and without objection, moved towards the gates.

NEW YORK CITY, DECEMBER, 3 YEARS AGO. 2 WEEKS BEFORE THE OUTBREAK.

“What a way to spend Christmas.”

Taehyung had never spent a Christmas away from his family. Of course, with his sister being a second year student at NYU, she was breezing through her second Christmas away with ease. To the corner of her dorm room, a Christmas tree shedding bristles stood at an angle, with ugly decorations and a sponge at the top acting as the star- “Christmas on a budget,” she said when he mentioned it, and he laughed. In a room further down the hall, her roommates finished wrapping their gifts to give out in three days time, and Taehyung, amongst the sound of carols, focused his attention on the thickening pile of snow on the windowpane outside, the frost glued to the glass in web decorations.

“Tell me about it,” Taehyung replied animatedly, turning his attention to his sister who sat down on the circle carpet in front of him. She wore a bright green jumper decorated in gingham and flashing bulbs sewn into the wool, and plain black leggings with fluffy red and white socks. On her hair, a set of reindeer ears finished her look, meanwhile Taehyung settled with a similar jumper and bare feet, numbed by the fire.

His sister’s dorm sufficed as home. For now, at least.

“I can’t believe we can’t make it home this year,” she continued, dunking a Custard Cream into her hot chocolate. “You think they’re okay back home?”

“We can’t afford to think any different,” Taehyung replied, trying to remain optimistic. But with upper-New York in quarantine, and evacuations running almost daily, he was finding it harder to hang onto hope. “We’ll catch a flight when the airlines are back open. Knowing Dad, he’s probably taken them all to Grandma’s place. For comfort, and safety, while the raids finish. Did you hear about the riots in Detroit the other day?”

She nodded. “Scary stuff. I did some research before the internet shut down in the dorms, and it doesn’t look as extreme in Korea. I mean, the President was assassinated and there’s currently no stable Government, but, aside from that, everything seemed to be in working order. Daegu was fine, at least. I didn’t look anywhere else.”

At that, Mandy, a second roommate, stepped out from the thin corridor. “I heard England was the same. Brits executed their prime-minister a few nights ago. There was articles about them wanting to have Tom Hiddleston as the leader of the UK, which, to be honest, sounds pretty good. I’d go visit.”

Laughing, his sister thought nothing of it. She turned to Taehyung with a gentle gaze, not enough to cause panic, but enough to send a message without words.

“Did your friends leave campus already?” Mandy asked Taehyung, switching on the kettle. The TV fizzled to a static and she frowned, “great. Looks like the power’s cutting out too. Is it this bad in the Halls?”

“We still have internet. And, a few left campus. I think Zac is still in the dorms, though. He hasn’t left in a couple of days. He said he wasn’t feeling well. Figures he got sick from walking past the quarantine zone. I didn’t wanna take chances so I haven’t been there in a couple days.”

“Maybe you should stay here for the night,” Mandy offered kindly, sipping her freshly brewed tea. “I mean, until the storm has thawed. If Zac is sick, we don’t want you to catch it. We can drop by on the way to the student store in the morning and get your things. I don’t think the airlines are gonna reopen anytime soon, and subways were closed months ago, and I don’t think we’ll catch a ride on the bus in this weather. We’ll have to hole up in here until the military says it’s safe to leave.”

Taehyung accepted, taking a blanket from Mandy after she hurried to their storage closet to fish one out, with pillows spare for the couch, a new makeshift bed in front of the roaring fire.

“We’ll be together if anything bad happens,” his sister said, in a whisper, minutes before mandatory curfew at 9pm. “Promise?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung replied, his hand gripping her own. “I promise...”

PRESENT DAY. [x]

At the sound of bed sheets rustling, Taehyung jolted awake. Unable to differentiate the past and the present, Taehyung opened his eyes expecting to see the fireplace, and the Christmas tree, and his sister on the circle rug. Instead, he noticed an unfamiliar room, drowned in a desert-beige, the light peeping in from a rectangular barred window.

He dragged the chair he had fallen asleep on closer to the army bed you were lying on, the noise as grating as the sound of chalk on a blackboard. Checking for injuries, his hands smoothed away strands of hair from your face, the trembling anxiety faded but still present if he really concentrated.

With a groan, you tried to sit up, but his hands came to your shoulders and settled you back on the canvas sheets. “Where are we?”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, avoiding the question.

You pondered the question- “stiff. But I’m okay. What is this place?”

Taehyung looked over his shoulder at the empty room. “You were passed out on the road when they found us. We were headed for their camp and they stopped me for questioning. They let us in, gave you water, let you rest.”

“Oh,” your voice said, scratchy. By the headboard of the small, iron bed, Taehyung reached for a glass of warming water, handing it to you quickly. “Thankyou.” You swallowed half the water. “Are we staying here?”

Taehyung looked hesitant, taking a sip from the almost empty cup and setting it back down on the table. “I don’t know if we can trust these people. At the very least, we’ll stay for the night. They could give us some supplies to leave. I’m already running low on ammo, and we have nothing left to eat. I don’t think we have any other choice but to stay.”

You knew that there was no other way. Despite his efforts to keep you down, you shuffled back up off the bed, your back leaning with a heavy thud against the drywall. Taehyung pushed back on his chair, his hands knitted together anxiously as he watched you grimace, and scratch your throat absentmindedly.

“How long have we been here?” you asked.

“Not long,” Taehyung said quietly, looking the window to see the falling sunlight change angles. “It’s been a couple hours.”

“Are they at least nice? Does the camp look secure?”

Taehyung opened his mouth, but paused, trying to find the right words. “It’s not a camp. It’s more like, a street. A small little community of really angry people. I didn’t get to look around much, but I overheard one of the shooters saying that there was another small group of survivors outside near the farm. But, from what I heard, I think we got lucky being let inside.”

Having nothing of value to say in reply, you simply stayed quiet. Picking the skin around your nails, Taehyung shuffled back on the chair and pulled it to the wall with the window, standing on the plastic and peeking outside. The window was on the ground, meaning you weren’t, and he gulped at the sight of jeep wheels driving past, and black boots, similar to the military. It reminded him of New York, and the night before the bombing of the quarantine near NYU. He cringed and moved away, placing the chair back near the bed and hovering nearby, debating whether to sit or stand.

“You talk in your sleep, too,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze as it fluttered up from beneath his overgrown fringe. He offered a lopsided smile, curious yet nervous all at once.

“Yeah? Must have picked it up from you.” Instead of the chair, he sat on the bed. “Did I say anything funny?”

“No. Most of it was mumbles,” you replied, smiling up at him.

Taehyung laughed through his nose, his face downcast and fingers twiddling in his lap. “Ah, pity. I wish we still had cameras, you could have filmed it for fun.”

“I wish I still had my camera, so I could look back on my life before now,” you answered, after a short delay of silence. “Remind myself of people’s faces. Manipulate myself into thinking this is all a dream.”

Without really thinking, Taehyung reached to grip your hand. These days, he hasn’t really thought at all. You looked up at him, comforted at the way his hand felt on your own, smoothing circles into the skin of your knuckles, exploring the lines on your palm, fingering each separation. Oh, how beautiful it was, to find comfort in the presence of someone you barely knew, but trusted entirely.

“This won’t be forever, Y/N,” he said, with such a sincere and genuine voice that you felt your stomach knot and churn, a lump forming in your throat. Suddenly you need another drink of water. “You won’t be sad forever.”

Before you could reply, the door swung open, and his hands moved from your own back to his lap. He rose, too, reaching for the back of his jeans, gripping the pistol tucked inside.

The same female shooter from the container entered, her rifle swung over her shoulder, skin sweaty and tanned from the camo tank-top she wore underneath her black jacket, discarded somewhere. Taehyung remembered the details.

“She’s awake, then.”

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly, polite enough to suffice as gratefulness. “Thank you. For letting us in.”

The woman sighed, her shoulders sagging in the movement. “Well, no need to thank me yet. It’s still being cleared with the boss. Rules are rules. Feeling better, at least?”

You nodded slightly, staring at Taehyung as he chose to speak for you. “Can we leave this room, yet? It’s stuffy, and I think she’d like to walk for a while, isn’t that right, Y/N?”

He stared at you, sending messages without words. You nodded again, “please.”

Rolling her shoulders, the woman stepped to the side, leaving space for you to both walk out. “Don’t make yourself too at home, but you’re free to look around. Inside this building is restricted to outsiders, but the outside near the farm is free. There’s another group of survivors nearby- they’re cranky and hostile, but, they had children. We never refuse kids.”

Already, you were learning little things about this place. To be truthful, you didn’t even know what to call where you were- were they captors? Saviours? Enemies? You hesitated to jump to conclusions, instead moving to follow Taehyung out of the confined room with a curt nod and no words. The woman didn’t seem to mind; she slammed the door shut behind her and pointed her gun in the direction of a raised shutter, leading out to the luscious-looking farmland out back. She didn’t follow. She took off in a different direction, signalling to her group with words neither you or Taehyung could understand.

“I have a really bad feeling about this place,” you admitted in a low voice, sticking to Taehyung’s side like glue. The faint smell of sweat and grime that would have repelled you now comforted you instead, and without wanting to come across as unnecessarily clingy, you gently held onto the back of his shirt, letting him lead you out into the scorching sunlight.

“Hopefully,” he began, setting off towards the red and white barn pushed towards the corner of the premises, “we won’t be here long. As soon as we’re clear to leave, we will.”

Realistically, Taehyung knew what happened to newcomers who joined groups where everything felt perfect. Nothing was ever truly perfect, he thought, especially so in a post-apocalyptic world where dead people were coming to life to eat people. Taehyung had seen the movies, bought the T-shirt, played the game- he knew what happened. However, he hoped humanity had changed. He was willing to give this place a chance. If he wanted to survive another night, he’d have to.

The barn was ordinary looking, painted a brick red with white outlines, the picture-perfect barn that every farm had on TV. Surrounding the barn, a field of dead crops created a barren landscape that everybody felt familiar with, the weather not being right to grow crops. Approaching the barn, Taehyung paused when he noticed a young child running out, chased playfully by a Saint Bernard whose pants were louder than birdsong.

It had been a long time since he had seen a child. Or a dog.

He headed towards the barn, smiling affectionately when the little boy looked over with curiosity, his eyes widening in surprise and fright and he yelped in alarm, running back inside the barn. Taehyung hesitated, making you stiffen behind him as the dog growled in your direction, only halting when a man came out of the barn with the child cowering behind his leg. He didn’t look old enough to be a father, but a lot had happened since the outbreak. The man smiled nonetheless, his smile being nothing but warm and inviting.

“Hey, look, it’s the newbies.”

“Newbies?” you mocked without thinking. Although Taehyung gave you a look of mild disappointment, the man did not deter, in-fact he laughed and placed his hands on his hips.

“It’s good to see new faces,” he said earnestly. “They don’t bring in new people often. Welcome.”

“I’m Taehyung. This is Y/N, we won’t be here long,” Taehyung promised, stretching out a hand and shaking the man’s. The man laughed shortly, constantly smiling. His energy was like a breath of fresh air, almost enough to convince you that everything was normal.

“Namjoon. This here is Daniel. Not mine, of course. There’s a couple others in the back of the barn,” the man- Namjoon- replied. “I wouldn’t place your money on getting out of this place so easily. We’ve been here for a few weeks now. We planned to stay for three nights until Jenny’s fever levelled out. They took her in for testing. Said she’s in care, but we haven’t seen her since then.”

Taehyung moved to greet Daniel, crouching to his level. Meanwhile you stared blankly at Namjoon, an expression of doubt and question on your features. He noticed, but didn’t comment.

“They won’t let you visit?” you repeated. “Why?”

Namjoon shrugged, nodding for you to follow him into the barn. “Apparently their main building is off-limits to outsiders. A lot of them in here think she’s dead already. But, it’s nice to keep holding onto hope.”

Without approaching too closely, you made note of the six people in Namjoon’s group, not including himself and Daniel, who was still outside with Taehyung, giggling innocently. What they lacked in looks they made up for in numbers- you hadn’t seen a group look so wrecked in such pristine conditions. Namjoon had turned away, taking a seat on a bale of hay, stroking the Saint Bernard behind his ears lovingly.

“What is this place?” you asked, inching towards the dog whose tag read Leo.

“They don’t really tell us anything since we’re outsiders,” Namjoon began, occasionally looking up to make sure you were listening. He did that a lot. “But, a lot of their crates say Northgate. Nate says it’s a military name, but we obviously can’t prove that from in here, can we?”

“Is it...safe?”

Namjoon hesitated. “I don’t know. The barn is secure. I don’t know much about the actual camp. We mostly stick to ourselves and do whatever they ask. We’re in their territory, after-all. It started out good; they had enough food to go around, we joined them for dinner in their halls and there used to be pigs out in the fields. And then, it changed. They reduced our food supply and gave us small jobs to help out. We’re doing it for Jenny, mostly, otherwise we would have tried to leave. One of our group members, David, left a few days ago.”

“They let him go?” you gasped, trying not to sound too unconvinced that he made it away. But, as expected, Namjoon nodded, thinking purely of the situation. You wondered if it was an act, a coping mechanism. The look of life and hope in his eyes made you feel somehow guilty.

“They asked us if we wanted to leave a few days after the food began running out. David was the only one to pick up and head out.”

Why didn’t you leave?

In reply, however, you said nothing. Nothing seemed like the right thing to say in that moment. Seeing someone so hopeful for the world to change made you feel at ease, almost comfortable in the new and unfamiliar setting. After petting Leo, you stood, turning around to head back towards the entrance to the barn. Daniel hurried past you on your way out, a smile on his face, hair now tied into a bobble above his forehead. Taehyung stood alone, now, outside, watching Daniel leave with a smile.

“Making friends?” you asked, referencing Daniel.

Taehyung nodded with a hum. “I love kids.”

Meeting by his side, you stood in silence, both looking out towards the giant building you walked out of. It looked bigger on the outside- a giant bricked building, with modern windows and a slightly falling apart roof, but intimidating in size and length. It seemed never-ending.

“Taehyung,” you started, your voice quiet so that Namjoon or anybody else wouldn’t hear, “I really don’t like this place. I don’t think we should stay.”

He looked over at you with a frown. “You heard what he said. They’ve been here weeks and still haven’t left.”

“I don’t like that,” you insisted, shaking your head. “I’ve seen thousands of movies like this one, Taehyung. I’m telling you- this is exactly what happened in Season 4 of the The Walking Dead. They get to the safe place and then suddenly find out that the people they’re staying with are cannibals-”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“No,” you reasoned, looking at his face, “I’m being realistic, as usual. Look, it’s your call. If you wanna stay...we will. I’m just putting it out there. Something doesn’t feel right about this place.”

Even though he sighed, Taehyung said nothing; instead, he nodded, patting your shoulder comfortingly. He continued to stare out towards the building, and his mouth dropped to a circle when he noticed two groupies heading in your direction, accompanied by a larger, more plump woman. He pointed it out silently, nudging your shoulder, and as you looked up, you recognised the same woman from earlier, and a shooter that Taehyung seemed to recognise as he jolted in discomfort by your side.

“I see you’ve found the barn!” a voice nobody recognised called from across the lot. The larger woman came into view, the sun bouncing off her skin, a natural highlight made from sweat and grease blinding you as she got closer. “Hi, I’m Rose. You must be the two newcomers everybody’s talking about.”

She looked at you specifically, “it’s good to hear you’re back on your feet. I heard from Snowdon here that you were passed out when you arrived. How do you feel?”

You squirmed. “I’m okay. I was just thirsty. I appreciate the water.”

“You know what,” Rose started, her voice elevated in pitch as she turned to address Snowdon, the female member you barely knew, “I think we should run some tests on this young lady. Make sure that nothing is wrong. Just for safety precautions, of course.”

“No, oh no,” you replied, perhaps a bit too quickly for everybody looked at you with alarm. Rose raised her eyebrows subtly, and Snowdon paused in movement entirely, “I’m fine. Really. I don’t think you need to take any tests. I feel great.”

“Only if you’re sure,” Rose said in reply. She looked silently at the two members behind her and they turned without further word. “I just wanted to let you know that you’re perfectly welcome to stay here for as long as you need. Unfortunately, we can’t let you leave just yet, at least not until we know it’s safe to reopen the gates. Until then, you’re welcome to stay in the barn with the others. Dinner is usually at around sundown, sometimes it’s earlier depending on the weather.”

Taehyung, now slightly uncomfortable, nodded stiffly. “We won’t be of any trouble. As soon as it’s clear, we’d like to head out. We’re with a group, but we got separated. We’re on our way to them, now. We can’t be late.”

Rose smiled, her face like plastic. She reminded you of a robot. “I do hope it’s doable.”

The sound of Rose’s voice must have alerted the others further in the barn, as the sound of footsteps made you look away from the woman and back towards the entrance, where several people you only saw from a distance came out, tanned and burnt, parched and weak. Daniel bounded forward with childlike interest, meanwhile a woman who looked like his mother, or something similar, tumbled after him.

“Excuse me,” the woman said meekly, her voice quiet in comparison to Rose’s challenging authority. “I was wondering if Jenny was alright? We haven’t heard from her in weeks. Is she okay? Is it possible to see her?”

“Where’s Mommy?” Daniel asked, innocent and oblivious to the world. Rose continued to smile.

“I can arrange you to see her,” she suggested. “Only two of you, though. The others do not take so kindly to strangers. I can allow you and the little one access to see her.” She reached for a walkie-talkie burrowed in her pockets, “Nevis, please come out to the barn. The little one and his friend request to see the patient in Room 16. Show them the way.”

At that, Namjoon came out, shielding the sun from his eyes. “She’s okay?”

“Barely,” Rose nodded. She seemed to not care for Namjoon, and turned back to Taehyung suddenly: “forgive me for seeming so...brash, but I must ask if you have any weapons. It’s against the rules.”

You fought all urge to give away Taehyung’s pistol tucked in the back of his jeans. If she knew that there was a weapon there, she didn’t show it. Taehyung shook his head and folded his arms.

“Nothing,” he lied smoothly. “We ran out of ammo before we got here, and when Y/N fell, I couldn’t carry everything. I dropped most of the stuff along the way. The guards took the bat and the rifle. I have nothing else.”

Rose hummed quietly. “Very well.” Nevis joined her side, the same man as before. He had removed his mask, revealing a gruesome scar across his cheek, a hollowness under his cheekbones. He remained emotionless as Rose showed him Daniel and the woman, and without question, he led them towards the building.

Watching as Rose followed, the group left behind at the barn remained quiet in return. The group went back inside, and Namjoon joined by your side as the shutter to the building closed with privacy, separating the barn and the rest of the camp entirely. It seemed to be quieter, then, without the whir of machinery and occasional scream, which you guessed was either from outside the camp or the cannibalistic lair you were putting money on existing.

“I know you have a gun at the back of your jeans,” Namjoon said simply, looking at neither you or Taehyung but straight ahead. “Let’s hope nobody finds it.”

Taehyung gulped. “Yeah.”

Namjoon looked over then, and it felt weird not seeing a smile on his face. For the first time since you had met him, he looked serious.

“I won’t say anything,” he said honestly. “And if it’s any consolation- I don’t trust them either. I just do and say what I have to to make it easier to stay.”

NEXT CHAPTER.

#omg new characters thats fit #ktaenet #btsguild #bts #bangtan #bts scenarios #bts imagine #taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #kim taehyung #kth #taehyung smut #bts au #zombie apocalypse au #bts zombie apocalypse #bts v #tlou #gwoongi

[brutuskorov]

betrayal never comes from the enemy...

(a character analysis)

basic information

FULL NAME: boris korov PRONUNCIATION: BO-ris KO-rov MEANING: boris - fight, fighter. REASONING: his father named him long before he was born. boris, fighter, if he was a boy. sezia, protector, if he’d been born a girl. for his father, his child (regardless of gender) was to be his legacy -- he meant for the name ‘korov’ to mean something. boris is not as ambitious as his father; he’s more of a follower than a leader, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t follow his father’s words. (it is lesser known that is mother called him borya, little snatches of affection he holds close to his chest.)  NICKNAME(S): brutus, borya PREFERRED NAME(S): brutus BIRTH DATE: december 23rd AGE: 33 ZODIAC: capricorn GENDER: male PRONOUNS: he/him/his ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: panromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual (while boris has experienced attraction towards multiple genders, he only ever acts on it with women) NATIONALITY: russian ETHNICITY: alaskan native; kuyokan-athabascan CURRENT LOCATION: verona, italy LIVING CONDITIONS: simple & stark, though he has the means for a more luxurious life. TITLE(S): emissary

background

BIRTH PLACE: yekatrinburg, russia HOMETOWN: verona, italy (since he was a teen) SOCIAL CLASS: boris was born poor. his father earned well enough through his criminal dealings, but spent it just as quickly -- he was a man who enjoyed life and didn’t believe in the notion of saving. boris himself made his way up  EDUCATION LEVEL: boris’ education is haphazard and all over the place due to the instability of his father’s career. he completed his 12th year in italy, but went back to russia to spend some time in the conscripted army. boris didn’t return to school for a while, focusing more on mafia activities. he did return to school and started a degree in strategic management when he left verona, but dropped the program when he returned to the Montagues. FATHER: vadim korov MOTHER: juniper korov née locklear SIBLING(S): talia korov (deceased before boris’ birth) BIRTH ORDER: i. talia -- ii. boris CHILDREN: n/a PET(S): a moroccoan uromastyx named ‘lizard’ OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: cousin -- ava locklear (located in america); niece -- sonya locklear (located in america) PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: n/a ARRESTS?: a couple times for teenage stupidity, but his connections to the mafia meant he always got off PRISON TIME?: n/a

occupation & income

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: private military contractor through almaz-antey SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: montague emissary TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: n/a APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: appx.  € 180,000 / year CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: boris knows he didn’t earn his job -- he was placed there with the intention of smoothing the way for montague goals. he’s specifically assigned to various pharmaceutical and drug companies where he intentionally suggests security plans that leave room for the montagues to take their share. it also allows him to play the part of a bodyguard when necessary. the job satisfies the hum under his skin that demands action but it isn’t exactly his passion.   PAST JOB(S): montague soldier SPENDING HABITS: he doesn’t really spend money beyond essentials. of course, at this point, essentials includes paying off contracted killers, bribing government officials, etc. picking apart a mafia empire isn’t cheap, but he doesn’t really spend money on himself. he’s not thrifty but his income to expenditure ratio means he ends up having plenty in his bank account. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: tucked in a cabinet by his flat’s front door is a getaway bag -- it contains burner phones, travel documents, everything he could need to run again.

skills & abilities

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: 8/10 OFFENSE: 7/10 DEFENSE: 7/10 SPEED: 7/10 INTELLIGENCE: 8/10 ACCURACY: 9/10 AGILITY: 6/10 STAMINA: 9/10 TEAMWORK: 5/10 TALENTS: tactics & strategy, far-sighted, detailed SHORTCOMINGS: disloyal, selfish, detached LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: russian (fluent), italian (fluent, but accented), english (passable) DRIVE?: yes JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes SWIM?: no PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: no PLAY CHESS?: yes BRAID HAIR?: yes TIE A TIE?: no PICK A LOCK?: yes

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: martin sensmeier EYE COLOR: dark brown HAIR COLOR: black HAIR TYPE/STYLE: usually short -- he wore it in a buzzcut during his brief stint in military GLASSES/CONTACTS?: n/a DOMINANT HAND: right HEIGHT: 6′1″ WEIGHT: 75 kg BUILD: tall, solid -- not buff, but not lean either EXERCISE HABITS: he’s very regimented in his exercise -- runs early every morning, weight trains every other day, practices hand to hand fairly frequently. he likes moving in any form. SKIN TONE: dark brown with warm, coppery undertones  TATTOOS: though he’s often contemplated getting one, he hasn’t found a design he’d like to commit to PEIRCINGS: none MARKS/SCARS: a scar on his leg from jumping a barbed wire fence, a bullet scar on his shoulder, a couple others here and there he doesn’t even remember getting -- he fought too often to remember every scar NOTABLE FEATURES: high cheek bones and full lips; his gaze is very flat USUAL EXPRESSION: stoic, veering towards a scowl  CLOTHING STYLE: he gets cold easily, so he wears jackets well into summer. he prefers neutral tones. dark jeans, beige turtleneck and an army jacket is a very typical basic outfit that he’ll wear anywhere. JEWELRY: n/a. ALLERGIES: peanuts BODY TEMPERATURE: normal DIET: his diet is unhealthy in that he very rarely cooks for himself, but he does eat a variety of food and prefers high protein diets. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: n/a

psychology

JUNG TYPE: ISTJ JUNG SUBTYPE: Type A ENNEAGRAM TYPE: type 8 – the challenger MORAL ALIGNMENT: true neutral TEMPERAMENT: choleric ELEMENT: earth PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: kinesthetic/spatial APPROXIMATE IQ: 110 MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: n/a SOCIABILITY: introvert EMOTIONAL STABILITY: stable, his mood does not shift easily OBSESSION(S): damiano montague COMPULSION(S): he’s very particular about the state of things in his home. he likes it clean and neat. PHOBIA(S): n/a ADDICTION(S): he knows his father had a problem with gambling so he avoids it DRUG USE: he prefers alcohol to drugs ALCOHOL USE: he drinks to unwind, sticking to beers mostly. at parties he’ll go for dark liquors but he doesn’t particularly care for booze. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: ha. yes. but he’s tempered his instincts well.

mannerisms

SPEECH STYLE: when he speaks, it is short and concise, never more than necessary. he will answer questions at face value and doesn’t elaborate unless asked. He takes lots of pauses and is slow to reveal his thoughts. ACCENT: his russian is flawless, his italian less so -- the words tend to come out a bit harsher. his english is passable with a strong russian accent. QUIRKS: if boris can walk somewhere instead of taking a vehicle, he will. he hates public transportation however, and prefers motorcycles to every other vehicle. HOBBIES: running, walking, listen to music HABITS: he runs every morning, immediately after waking up. he drinks his coffee black (he doesn’t like espresso). he wakes up at 5:45 am every morning, no matter what time he went to bed. boris is inherently a man of habit, he likes routines. NERVOUS TICKS: fist clenching and setting his jaw DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: revenge, justice, respect, family FEARS: failure POSITIVE TRAITS: driven, reliable, dedicated, detailed NEGATIVE TRAITS: selfishness, fails to see bigger picture, disloyal SENSE OF HUMOR: sarcasm, understatements, subtle humor DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: to emphasize a point. CATCHPHRASE(S): n/a

favorites

ACTIVITY: running ANIMAL: gazelle BEVERAGE: water BOOK: he doesn’t really read. CELEBRITY: natalie dormer COLOR:  navy blue DESIGNER: he doesn’t know designers.  FOOD: pierogies FLOWER: red poppies (his mother’s favorite) GEM: diamonds HOLIDAY: winter holidays in general MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: walking MOVIE: the good, the bad, the ugly MUSICAL ARTIST: jidenna QUOTE/SAYING: “no legacy is so rich as honesty.” SCENERY: wide open lakes that are frozen over SCENT: pine SPORT: boxing SPORTS TEAM: italian football TELEVISION SHOW: 24 WEATHER: cold & brisk VACATION DESTINATION: mountains

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: destroying the montagues GREATEST FEAR: failing his father’s legacy MOST AT EASE WHEN: running LEAST AT EASE WHEN: attending fancy parties WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: getting caught in his schemes before he’s ready BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: returning to the montagues despite his betrayal BIGGEST REGRET: leaving in the first place -- he has to re-prove himself MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: when he was young, he once cried after falling. his father laughed so hard, he never cried over little things again. BIGGEST SECRET: he betrayed the montagues to a russian mob TOP PRIORITIES: slowly dismantling the montague empire

#[ about ]

[tarithenurse]

In Defense of Asgard (1/11)

Starring: Loki x fem/Inhuman reader. Warnings: language, violence, fluff now and then. Background: It’s been 20 years since the Thanos has been defeated. [Y/N] was a part of the group because of the skills she possesses as an Inhuman (sensing and manipulating living cells - a sideeffect being potential immortality). In the time leading up to the final battle, [Y/N] has formed an unlikely relationship with the only person completely opposite of her, but as the relationship developed, so has Loki. On a mission, they had met and swayed Adam Warlock (creation of the Sovereign) to join them. The Asgardians have found a new home planet, but their numbers are few (some Marvel comic canon involved here). Now they are married, even if [Y/N] has to spend an awful lot of time on Earth. A/N: Feedback appreciated!

[Reader’s PoV]

Old cities have an ability to simultaneously change and remain exactly the same. Walking through the capital in 2038 is not all that different from before [Y/N]’s life had turned upside down. Some of the facades have had a facelift, some of the shoddier buildings have been torn down and new ones taken their place, slightly taller and conforming to the architectural trends of this decade, carefully complimenting or clashing with the surroundings and affecting the balance of the entire street. Most people, particularly the businessmen and -women on lunch break, don’t seem to notice, of course. They are hurrying from point A to point B, only paying attention to what’s right in front of their feet, heads down to avoid any eye contact with the chuggers who’re trying to wrangle money for Greenpeace or Amnesty International.

Following a slower pace, [Y/N] makes it to the odd-shaped square housing a fountain adorned with storks. Despite the bleak weather, a bunch of teenagers have perched themselves around the edge, avoiding the areas where the spray of water blows towards. From here it’s possible to look over at the old castle that houses the government, but the last load of cruise-tourists is crowding around a street performer, who’s juggling torches. Maybe I should try juggling?

Lately, [Y/N]’s found herself getting bored with her usual activities. A sort of restlessness has invaded her life, and she knows why…enough time has passed that she will have to find another place to live than the lovely flat in New York, which she has been able to call her home the last 25 years, give or take.

“Princess.”

Heimdal’s voice doesn’t seem to have a place of origin, but [Y/N] looks around anyways…except she’s not seeing the city and its inhabitants and visitors, instead she’s looking through a rounded opening perched high in the mountains. Down below, a partially frozen river carries the viewers gaze towards the snow-covered plains and fields towards the capital of Asgard where a setting sun is reflecting off the windows and golden pillars.

“Heimdal.” It’s only a mutter, too low for those (whom she’s oblivious to) around her to hear.

The view swivels, and she faces the dark-skinned man with the impossible eyes. “My apologies, my lady. You are needed, but people are positioned too close to you to allow Bifrost to touch down.”

“I’ll see to it.”

The gentle man nods, and without further ado he returns her world back to normal.

Clouds are already gathering above, a clear sign that she has only a few seconds to create a safe space around her. Hurtling forward, into the juggler’s circle, [Y/N] doesn’t get further than to yell for people to stay back before the torrent of light and colour slams down around her, pulling the woman off the face of the Earth with such force that her guts must have been left behind. The purse slams against her hip. The wind whips around her, filling her ears with a painful roar. Never going to like this. Sure, it’s practical, because it’s a lot faster than travelling by spaceship, but it’s also nauseating.

…

[Y/N] slides off the back of the horse and hands over the reigns to the stable girl with a ‘thank you’. She’s cold from the ride through the wind and the snow, however that’s not her main concern. Heimdal hadn’t said much to explain why she’s back in Asgard without any notice, but it must be some sort of emergency, judging by the sombre look in his face. The first guard she meets explains that the king is in the council chambers with his advisors, so that’s where she hurries towards, glad that she’s indoors at least. Under normal circumstances, she’d have taken the trouble to dress for the weather at her destination, but that hadn’t been an option this time. Hurrying up the broad, winding staircase, she follows the largest corridor to where it ends at a large set of oak doors.

Again, she’s faced by a guard, but just like the other he recognizes her and allows her to enter without a word, and [Y/N] finds herself inside the council room, the long table laden with maps and rosters and several glittery holograms depicting golden vessels, smooth and deadly. Sovereign? Thor, Sif and Valkyrie are studying what must be the latest information and are startled by her sudden arrival. There’s something different abou –

“[Y/N]!” Thor’s serious frown is momentarily replaced by a delighted smile. “It is good to see you.”

As she greets them, she briefly explains how Heimdal had contacted her. “Where’s Loki? And is that the Sovereign?” [Y/N] nods towards the hologram.

Sif has already opened her mouth to answer, but [Y/N] turns to the door where Fandral and his two refound friends Hogun and Volstagg enter. The day the blond swordsman had been reunited with them, he’d cried, then he’d done anything in his power to help them through the long transition of recalling who they once were until, finally, the Warriors Three finally was a fact once more. They rarely went anywhere without each other, including a scouting mission they just had come back from…unfortunately it had not been enough to scout as they had been spotted by the enemy patrol. At least the casualties had been one-sided.

Listening carefully, [Y/N] gets confirmation that it is indeed the Sovereign, that are mounting a large-scale attack on either Xandar or Asgard as retaliation for the interference decades ago, that let them to lose Adam and their alliance with Thanos. Those gold-skinned bastards know how to hold a grudge.

“We are expecting Loki back this evening.” Valkyrie finally explains. “His familiarity with the Xandarian Nova Prima made him the optimal candidate to represent Asgard in the diplomatic meetings to secure a strong cooperation regardless of which planet is the first target.”

Nodding quietly, [Y/N] has to admit it makes sense even if she doesn’t like the idea that he isn’t here. “Adam?”

The possessor of the Soul Stone is always travelling in the hopes that he’ll find a way to neutralize the Infinity Stones for good. As it is now, the Aether was safely locked away deep in the vault of Valhalla.

Thor wrinkles his brow as if with a passion. “The distance is too great even for Heimdal to see him.”

A similar problem has shown its ugly face whenever the watcher has tried to glean information from the Sovereign, any meetings and communications take place under secured circumstances, blocking him from both seeing or hearing anything.

With time having been busy catching up to many of [Y/N]’s old teammates, it’s unlikely that any of them are capable of taking up arms in a space-battle, even if the United Nations panel did allow any enhanced individuals to take part. Vision and Parker might be able to, and maybe Stark assuming the suit would be able to compensate for his deteriorating vigour. T’Challa’s son might insist on taking his father’s place now that the mantle of the Black Panther has passed on, and perhaps Daisy could muster a team of Inhumans, but, [Y/N] has to remind herself, this is all speculations for now.

“What can I do?”

“That,” Sif says, “will depend on what Loki can tell us when he returns. You may be excused for now.”

Looking over at the queen, the Inhuman’s reminded of the foggy difference and discreetly scans the woman for anything that can explain it. Oh! “May I have a word with you in private, Sif?”

The request is granted, and the dark-haired sister-in-law walks side by side with [Y/N] until they are out of earshot of everyone. Coming to a halt by a potted palm tree, the casual conversation comes to a slow halt. Under the casual armour gown, a secret is brewing quietly, maybe even unknown to Sif too, and it’s itching in [Y/N]’s hand to find a place over the womb where the new life is growing.

“Congratulations are in order.” At least if it’s wanted.

For a moment Sif looks utterly confused, then her eyes widen and her hands fold over her abdomen. There’s joy (and a grain of terror) in the perfect face as she takes in the new knowledge.

“How long?” She’s a practical woman. “If Thor finds out before the war is over, then I doubt he will let me fight.”

“Probably not, no.” In fact, he might go as far as to ship her off in the complete opposite direction to protect his wife and unborn child. “It is very new…and very, very fragile still, so I urge you to take care.”

The prospect of motherhood appears no less of a challenge than any battle would, and Sif feels at home in the fray. Still, she allows her features to soften momentarily as she dreams of the possible future. Allowing her peace to become accustomed to the prospect, [Y/N] bids her farewell for now, and continues to Loki’s chambers.

…

A fire is roaring, serving as both the only source of heat and illumination in their quarters, and somehow failing at keeping [Y/N] warm. Technically it’s not a matter of temperature, but rather anxiety. A cold sense of dread has snuck up on the healer, making it impossible for her to find rest. I have no reason to fret. Having changed to the Asgardian outfit she uses for training or sparring (except the boots), she feels a bit more at ease as she pads over the soft carpets and cold stone floor in an endless circle, that leads past the fireplace, around the coffee table, past the chaise lounge and over to the tall glass panes forming a fragile barrier towards the snowy night. A faint image of a frowning woman stares back at [Y/N] each time she reaches this point. The reflection is enveloped in shadows, the flickering light only sporadically reaches the eyes that echo with a mix of orange and midnight. Get a grip. Her brain has other plans, but is temporarily amused by listing synonyms and translations for the mental order. Relax. Cool down. Unwind. Wait…A foot of snow is lying undisturbed on the balcony, and even though it’s powder, she still has to push hard to open the door leading out into the frosty air that makes her nose twitch and the small hairs stand on end.

Next moment, [Y/N]’s outside, naked feet sliding into the soft layer of white as she leaves a crack open to the now vacated living room. A few long steps, and then she’s standing at the railing, looking over the lower level of Valhalla and the capital, each surface covered under fluffy duvets that swallow up sounds and refracts the isolated light sources far below. None of the moons or stars are visible, as they are hidden beyond a thick cloud-layer that keeps releasing a steady fall of snowflakes.

For a while, [Y/N] amuses herself half-heartedly by poking patterns in the white cover on the railing, while her first her feet and later lower legs hurt and then go numb from the cold.

“My flower,” a familiar voice breaks the silence, “why are you out here?”

Turning clumsily on unfeeling limbs, she knows it’s simply the conjured image of Loki, but she can’t contain a happy squeak, because it means he must be home.

“I was restless, my dear.”

“My silly wife, get inside.” The image is smiling broadly, green eyes hinting at where inside. “I will be with you shortly.”

(I hope this made some good reading. Sorry about any spelling and/or grammatical errors....English isn’t my first language. Please feel free to comment or correct in any way you want!)

#fanfic #loki x reader #Loki x you #loki odinson #asgard #marvel cinematic universe #au #writing #escapism #thor #princess of Asgard #sif #warriors three #heimdal #avengers #fan writing #inhuman #sovereign #MCU #mcu Fanfiction #Mcu Fanfic

[attina-the-responsible]

JEFF Triton -- Character Sheet

Archetype — The Ruler Birthday — April 25, 1967 Zodiac Sign — Taurus MBTI — ISTJ Enneagram — 6; the Loyalist Temperament — Melancholy Hogwarts House — Huffleclaw (with a Slyth model) Moral Alignment — Lawful Good Primary Vice — Pride Primary Virtue — Diligence Element — Earth

Overview:

Mother — JODY Triton (nee Poole) Father — Cyrus Triton Mother’s Occupation — homemaker? Father’s Occupation — mer-government? Family Finances — uh all mermaids are rich are mermaids a communist dictatorshiP? Birth Order — Oldest Brothers —  None Sisters — JEAN, JUNE, JULY, JANE, JILL, JADE Other Close Family — Octopian, Trent -- brothers in law; Jewel, Jasmine, Jetta, Jem, Jennite, Jasperine, Julia -- nieces; Jordan -- nephew; Athena’s family. Best Friend — Sebastian and Scuttle Other Friends — Mufasa, The Prince ??, Benjamin Enemies — uh humans? lmao Pets — nah fam. Home Life During Childhood — More introverted but still friendly, didn’t get in much trouble (Athena was the #rebel). Kind of a nerd, his sisters’ deaths made him stoic. He loved them a lot and was kind of the peacemaker of them. Liked to explore, spent time collecting things/cleaning. Loved the environment.   Town or City Name(s) — Boscombe Reef off the coast of Bournemouth; Swynlake, England What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like — it was under the ocean?? do they live in caves?? do they have infrastructure? do mermaids sleep in dens do they have "blankets" (makes no sense) and mirrors and toys??? BUT UH pretty clean and neat?? like if he did have toys and, sure, he had toys, they were always put away. Any Sports or Clubs — mer-debate, mer-student council, stuff like that Favorite Toy or Game — mer-chess, mer-monopoly (and the regular versions) Schooling — fish school? HAHA get it? puns. Favorite Subject — history but also really liked science and finds it v applicable to his job Popular or Loner — was very friendly and had friends, but they were mostly “school” friends. liked to be rather solitary, but lots of people liked him. Important Experiences or Events — his sisters’ deaths, moving to land, marrying/meeting athena, athena’s death, his daughters’ births Nationality — er English? I guess? Culture — Merculture Religion and beliefs — Merreligion  

Physical Appearance:

Face Claim —  Sean Bean Complexion — had acne and has scars, but otherwise dark, tan, leathery skin and kinda red sometimes Hair Colour — Copper-y brown/red but going grey Eye Colour — Blue Height — 5’10 Build — Stocky and powerful Tattoos — a whale across his chest, multiple smaller ones--probably all the girls’ birthdays somewhere listed under a fancy letter “A” Piercings — had a nip piercing, ear piercings -- still wears ear piercings when dressing up Common Hairstyle — on the longer side but nicely groomed--def going grey but still pretty brown/red, beard is super nicely groomed it is his best feature ofc (alana makes him special beard cream) Clothing Style — DAD™ wears cargo pants, sandals and socks, CROCS, hawaiian shirts, etc Mannerisms — strokes beard when thinking, talks with hands, frowns when deep in thought Usual Expression — resting bitch face, but he’s actually so soft

Health:

Overall (do they get sick easily)? — decent, probably gets colds every now and then but overall pretty robust health-wise Physical Ailments — n/a Neurological Conditions — depression, PTSD, anxiety Allergies —  seasonal allergies Grooming Habits — rather good, sometimes falls to the wayside bc depression, but mermaids pride themselves on their appearance, esp concerning their hair Sleeping Habits — insomnia which gets worse the more worried he is. Goes and sits in his office a lot at night. Doesn’t sleep very well at all. It makes him tired. Probably falls asleep watching TV in the evenings Eating Habits — eh, he can forget to eat if he’s busy and is a snack addict. But he always has dinner with the girls when he is home.   Exercise Habits —  not suppppppper active, but he swims which is really good for you, isn’t unhealthy but isnt like JACKED Emotional Stability — about a 7. He’s pretty stable unless the girls are giving him hell or something happens in Swynlake that throws off the sense of safety. Body Temperature — Normalish Sociability — 4-5, pretty average. He has been masquerading as a human for al ong time but sometimes he makes little mistakes and says weird things. Doesn’t really seek out conversation but can hold one very well. Not shy, just quiet. Addictions — uhh coffee probably Drug Use — nah Alcohol Use —  occasionally, likes a good craft beer; RARELY gets drunk

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits — indulges with food, dwelling on the past Good Habits — good grooming, good listener, organized, quick learner Best Characteristic — the biggest heart, he cares deeply about his fam and community Worst Characteristic — stubborn, suspicious, anxious Worst Memory — his sisters and athena’s death Best Memory — marrying athena! His daughters’ births! Proud of — his daughters, his company Embarrassed by — his daughters -- benjamin probably lol Driving Style —  too damn cautious, grandma, soccer moms you if the car stops too fast, Safe Driver ™ Strong Points — resilient, strong, detail-oriented, smart, studious, hard worker, meticulous, community-oriented/family-oriented Temperament — stoic, laidback til u piss him off Attitude — cautious, realistic, lil sassy but like subtle Weakness — his fears and anxieties Fears — losing his daughters Phobias — ?? Secrets — he’s a MERMAID Regrets — not being with athena/being able to save his sisters/wife, def relationships w lana and ariel Feels Vulnerable When — when he doesn’t know what is going on, lack of control, when his girls are upset with him Pet Peeves — littering, not being listened to, putting their feet on the dashboard Conflicts — wants his daughters to be independent v wants them to be safe; family versus community: mermaids are community oriented and it is hard for him to not fully be himseLF and not be useful -- would choose fam over community. Motivation — be a good community leader, keep his daughters safe, give back, keep the lake/ocean/community safe and clean, be a good dad Short Term Goals and Hopes — daughters succeed academically, board stuff, community safe Long Term Goals and Hopes — safe and happy for his fam, WANTS GRANDBABIES Sexuality — heteroflexible/demisexual Exercise Routine  — swims p regularly Day or Night Person — wants to be a day person, but his depression/insomnia force him to be a night person Introvert or Extrovert — extroverted introvert Optimist or Pessimist — pessimist with realist leanings

Likes and Styles:

Music — Jimmy Buffet and dad rock, also Jazz Books — biographies! Magazines — nat geo, home improvement magazines, men’s health, takes teen vogue quizzes w the girls Foods — p much likes everything, lots of fish, also likes sweets and junk food Drinks — craft beer, water, coffee Animals — his marine counterpart is a turtle!! But he likes most animals--just not in the house w a bunch of daughters,, Sports — eh not particularly Social Issues — left-leaning on most social issues, but more fiscally conservative. Big running points are always SAFETY SAFETY. Big on environmental stuff Favorite Saying — “if life gives you limes, make margaritas” - Jimmy Buffett Color — Green, like Athena’s eyes /tear Jewelry — wears bracelets, rings, necklaces, mostly hemp and beaded stuff, occasionally metal if Dressing Up Websites — watches TED talks, loves youtube (for animal vids), is that dad that comments on everything on facebooks, decent w the internet bc y’know he runs a company, TV Shows — home improvement, cooking shows, bad reality telly, historical dramas (mad men, house of cards), sitcoms Movies — tbh likes romcoms on the lowkey, hates horror, will watch anything hte girls want (but horror) Greatest Want — keep his family safe, happiness for his girls Greatest Need — learn to let go, safety/security/peace

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home — lives in the Woods, five bedroom, three floors, mansion Household furnishings — relatively modern but also homey Favorite Possession — his photo albums and his wedding ring Most Cherished Possession — HIS DAUGHTERS!!! Married Before — to the LOVE OF HIS LIFE Athena Significant Other Before — probably one girlfriend Children — Attina, Andrina, Adella, Arista, Aquata, Alana, Ariel Relationship with Family — has a good relationship with his sister who is still alive and that fam, they live on land these days tho closer to the shore tbh?? They probably work together. Really close with Attina, Andrina, Aquata. Has a good relationship with Arista too. Strained relationships with Ariel and Adella and Alana (in that order of most to least strained lol) Car — 2012 Honda Odyssey in grey -- “The Humpback” Career — CEO of Triton Industries, a nonprofit that works towards ocean clean up. Dream Career — Uh, probably exactly what he is doing tbh Dream Life — being able to move between the land and the ocean freely without fear of repercussion, athena alive, all his daughters happy, retired with grandbabies Love Life — non-existent /tear; tho tbh probably gets hit on all the time. This makes him uncomfortable. Talents or Skills — good at chess, good cook, handy around the house, knows sign language/french/spanish, can sew a bit, play an instrument ?? (something brassy maybe the trumpet or drums) Intelligence Level — 8, he’s v intelligent. Finances — they rich af holla @ sunken treasure

Your Character’s Life Before Your Story:

Past Careers — uhhh worked in mer-government tbh probabyl like environment conservation   Past Lovers — like one girlfriend, he was not very smooth w the ladies Biggest Mistakes — being too controlling, letting athena out of his sight Biggest Achievements — watching attina and adella graduate, all his daughters being safe and (mostly) happy!!, his company, his solid place on the board

#character sheet #featuring triton #triton #inspiration

[panickedcastiel-at-thedisco]

Day 21 (Dec 15) Royalty AU

Hey, it’s me. I didn’t proofread this, so enjoy. @carryon-countdown

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: N/A

Prince Tyrannus sees a cute local boy at the market selling cheese.

PRINCE TYRANNUS

I like to get away from the castle sometimes. Away from my family. I know I sound like a prick to say that I hate being in the royal family, but I do. It seems like my father puts an extra amount of pressure on me, because I’m the oldest, or because Mother died… Either way, I don’t appreciate it. It’s not like I’m going to provide an heir, at least willingly.

I manage to sneak past my tutors, or anyone that would make me stay, and make it to the Royal stable. I have a horse. Well, I actually have many, it’s just that I have one favorite. Her name is something stupid, like every other horse name, but I call her Cherry. I can’t remember her original name. I don’t bother to grab a saddle, I mount her and leave the grounds. I only started coming into the town last year. Before that I would escape by hiding in the kitchen or the basement corridors. Ever since I found a way to leave without being detected I have.

I usually don’t go into the village, but last week I did. If I’m going to be honest, the only reason I want to go back today is because of an appearance of a cute bronze-haired boy at the market. I believe that he was at a cheese stand. I wonder if I can make myself buy go over to him and buy some. I guess I can give it to the chef as a thank you for having to deal with my family, at least the chef gets paid to deal with them.

SIMON

It’s almost the end of the market day when I see a tall figure walking toward my stand. His legs are so long that he seems to be bounding, and his cloak is billowing out behind him. It takes eternity for my eyes to work up his legs and get a good look at his face. Well, I would get a good look, if it wasn’t covered by the extensive hood. A few thoughts surge into my mind before a thought occurs to me, only killers and criminals wear cloaks like that. I’m about to make my escape plane when the man pulls at his hood. It unfurls to reveal a young, friendly face, with dark shoulder-length hair that met in the middle of his forehead at a widow’s peak. His skin is pale, yet it somehow has a greyish hue at the same time.

“Hello.” He stares at his feet, then glances at me. I can feel my heartbeat getting slightly faster.

I spent all that time thinking about his potential murderous tendencies (and hair) that I forgot about the possibility of him talking to me.

“Hi,” I say through a deep breath. Wow, he’s intimidating. “Try some cheese.” I awkwardly shove the sample plate in front of him. I can tell my face looks like a nervous twelve year old, so I form my mouth into a grin.

Through a chuckle he extends his elegant fingers and takes a single piece. After he eats it, he looks up at me and smiles. A swarm of whirlwinds attacks my internal organs.

“This is excellent cheese. What kind is it?” His voice floats over the air between us and hangs there for a few seconds.

“Goat cheese. I have goats.” His eyes light up.

“Can I see one?” It’s almost like he’s never seen a goat before.

“I uh… They aren’t here at the market. They live at my house, but we can go over and see them!” I say too frantically. I correct myself, “I mean the market is almost done for the day and we can walk to my house after.” The suggestion barely leaves my mouth before his face drops.

“I have to go.” He shakes his head. “First let me buy some of that cheese.” He pulls an enormous bundle of shillings out of his cloak pocket. “How much?”

“How much do you want?”

“All of it.” I look, and sure enough, he is actually serious. I tell him, and he takes a handful of the coins and hands it to me. “Thank you,” he says. Something is sad about his expression, something changed in the last two minutes. When he takes his cheese to go I grab his arm and stop him. His muscles tighten.

“I’m Simon, what’s your name?” Hopefully the words aren’t too desperate. His head turns slowly, then his ebony pupils stare into mine, sending shivers up my back.

“I’m Baz.” He turns to leave again, but my grip on his arm remains strong.

“I’ll see you around?” He slips his arm out of my grasp and replaces it with his hand. With a gentle squeeze he lets go.

“Maybe.” He leaves without looking back.

PRINCE TYRANNUS

I can never see him again.

A few weeks later,

SIMON

The steps of the castle are larger than I imagined in my mind. I guess I didn’t know what to expect. I stare, jaw open, at the palace until I feel a tug at my sleeve.

“Simon, c’mon,” my mother says. Woops. Is my mom even seeing this?

Once a month the government takes cases from the townsfolk, and usually a few representatives are sent in. Usually the issues aren’t actually issues, more like complaints. This month we have a true dilemma; our goats are being stolen. One goat, but the other farms are losing animals too. Our neighbor hasn’t gotten eggs in days. The only way for the government to do something about it is to appeal to the court. So, here we are.

The court sees us right away, and then dismiss us while they discuss the options. (And a lunch break.) I ask the guard if I can explore the lower level, where the meetings are held, instead of sitting here. Surprisingly he nods, I assume this floor is protected from the main areas of the estate. Or he doesn’t think me, a peasant boy, could do much harm. Yeah, he’s right.

PRINCE TYRANNUS

I’m on my way to the stables again when I run into him, literally. I look at him disgusted when I realize who he is. An audible gasp escapes his mouth and the skin on my cheeks heats up. Out of the side of my eyes I see a closet and shove him into it.

“Why are you here?” he demands. “Do you work for the Royal Family?”

God, will he let me get a word out?

“Why are you wearing a cape…?” I feel his brain spark with the answer. “Are you in the court? I didn’t see you in there, but are you a substitute?” Nope, he’s not there yet.

“Simon, I live here.” I watch his eyes closely for his reaction.

“I don’t--” He deflates in front of me. “Shit, well this is unfair isn’t it?” His voice cracks on the last word of his sentence. Before I can stop him, he’s gone. This time I lost him.

SIMON

I almost make it off of the grounds without crying. My first boy crush is on the Prince? Wow, way to set the bar low… I can’t believe that I thought I felt something back at the cheese stand. Baz probably felt bad for me. Baz. Baz. Why would he tell me his name was Baz and not Tyrannus? It doesn’t matter either way, I remind myself.

My mom is chatty because the court decided to support us, however, I’m not feeling her joy, so I send her ahead of me. I’m moping around the edge of the wall; the guard here is watching me, I can feel his eyes crawl up my back. Then I heard a mumble of an argument, a sigh, and the shuffle of an armour clad fellow’s feet. I turn around and see him, riding his horse, just how I imagine a Prince would. Makes sense.

“I went to the cheese stand because I thought you were cute,” Baz yells.

I’ve never felt so relieved in my life. He dismounts his horse and saunters up to me. I can’t stop staring at his hair, note to self: ask about his hair care regime. He stops when his face gets uncomfortably close to mine. His mouth breaks into a dorky smile, and he runs his fingers through his gorgeous flow. I feel like drooling, is that weird? After all of this thinking, I take his hand.

“So, um--” I say.

“Um what?”

“How do we go about this?”

“You ask too many questions, Simon.”

Then he kisses me.

Hope everyone is enjoying the countdown! 

Emily

#carry on countdown #coc 2017 #carry on countdown 2017 #fic #eh #snowbaz

[dontshootmespence]

Typical

A/N: An anon request for Spencer and the reader both work for the FBI, but in different departments. They can’t stand each other. Unfortunately, they have to work together on a case, and well...one thing leads to another. 

                                                              ----

“We’ll be working with Y/N Y/L/N of the Domestic Trafficking Task Force,” Hotch said. 

Spencer felt his skin crawl. Y/N was abrasive, rude, had no sense of personal boundaries and was basically his complete opposite. She was intelligent (he couldn’t deny that) and gorgeous (he hated the fact that he noticed that despite everything else about her he couldn’t stand), but in his eyes those were her only positives. Ever the professional, he always did his best to work with her, but it got more and more difficult each time. What was worse was the fact that the rest of the team fawned over her; they were always looking for an excuse to work with her. 

Just as he imagined her storming down the hallway toward them, she made her presence known. “Hello all,” she said, patting JJ on the shoulder as she walked in. “I wish we were seeing each other under better circumstances, but I need your help.”

“Whatever we can do,” Morgan said. The internal eye roll was strong in Spencer. As he was saying - everyone loved Y/N no matter how hard and rude she tended to be. Today, she hadn’t been rude the second she walked in the door; that was something.

Y/N glanced around the room, noticing everyone’s expressions, saddened, but eager to help in any way they could, except Spencer of course. He’d always had an issue with her and she had no idea why, which sucked because he seemed like a catch in every other way. With everyone else, he seemed sweet; he was the BAU’s youngest agent with a baby face and a heart of gold...apparently. She’d never seen it before, so she’d believe it whenever she was graced with his decent personality. “For the past three years, I’ve been trying to infiltrate a national human trafficking ring that we believe has its headquarters just outside the city. Last year, I sent two agents, one veteran, and one newbie undercover. They both missed their last check-in. Very unlike them. I’m afraid something’s happened to them.”

“Why was the new agent sent undercover on such a long-running case?” Spencer blurted out. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, it had just been running through his head, but his mouth was moving faster than his brain. 

Y/N glared at him from across the room. “Agent Samantha Wilcox was desperate for a chance to prove herself; considering that we’d determined that most of the victims were young college students, I figured she would be perfect for blending in, and she’s never given me a reason to doubt her abilities, so I gave her a chance. And before you say anything, my veteran agent is gone as well, so I don’t believe her being green in Academy terms has anything to do with the fact that I haven’t had any contact with her.”

This time he managed to bite his tongue even though he wanted to say something. “We’re here to help in any way we can,” Hotch replied, noticing the tension between the two agents. “Let’s get our agents back.”

                                                             ----

Nearly 28 hours passed before the BAU managed to make a connection between the two missing agents and the trafficking ring; their covers had been blown. “How would their covers have been blown?” Spencer asked as he searched through Samantha Wilcox’s “dorm” room.

“Samantha isn’t stupid, but if she truly believes and trusts someone, she might have accidentally let her guard down in a way that she assumed meant nothing,” Y/N said. Her heart was beating faster and faster. “God, if I can’t get them back.” Her voice started to break, the tears falling from her eyes as she collapsed down onto Samantha’s bed. What the hell would she tell their parents? Agent Turner, the veteran, had parents in law enforcement as well; they’d be heartbroken, but they’d expect it. No parent expected a new agent like Samantha to die so young; her parents were schoolteachers; if something happened to her...”Oh god, I shouldn’t have sent her in there.”

Spencer was taken aback by the show of emotion from Agent Y/L/N. “We’ll find them,” he said softly, continuing to search around the room for clues that might lead to where the two agents had been taken - hopefully, the ring’s headquarters. 

From her cupped hands, she lifted up her head and stared at Spencer through tears. “You’re being nice to me,” she said, surprised. Maybe he was a nice guy.

“I’m always nice -”

“Bullshit,” she interjected. “You’re professional, most of the time. You’re never nice to me.” She stood up and wiped the tears from her eyes as she attempted to get back to searching for clues. “For some reason, you fucking hate my guts. You being nice to me feels weird.”

“I don’t hate you. I barely know you,” he replied. “You annoy me.”

She spun around on her heels and exclaimed. “I annoy you? Why? What the hell have I ever done to you?”

“You have no sense of personal space and you’re a robot. That’s why the emotion threw my off. I didn’t realize you had any.” He was tired of keeping it in. They were alone, so he spoke his mind. 

The shuffling of papers was the soundtrack to the lull in their conversation. “I tend to pat people on the arm or the shoulder. I probably should’ve kept that to myself with you; you don’t know me well and I know how you feel about touch. As for being a robot, well, sometimes you had to compartmentalize in order to do your job effectively. I’m sorry if that makes it seem like I’m a robot, but that’s how I manage to continue doing my job.” She found nothing in the stack of papers and angrily let them fall to the floor, heated tears spilling into her hands; she was exhausted, frustrated and apparently, she was a robot. “So go fuck yourself.”

Spencer grimaced at his own assumptions before turning around to see Y/N sobbing at the thought of losing two of her agents, because she’d trusted in their abilities (possibly a little too much). He wasn’t one to keep in his emotions; he let them out, and sometimes they influenced his work; Y/N just handled things differently, and he’d made assumptions based on her work personality that weren’t necessarily true. 

Closing the space between them, he wrapped his arms around her hesitantly. He still wasn’t great with touch, but he’d been getting better with it over the years, and he’d caused her to break down, so he figured it was only fair he try and comfort her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I handle my emotions differently than you. I shouldn’t have assumed something about you based on the limited knowledge I have of you.”

“Oh my god,” she laughed, her tears spilling onto his shoulder. “You’re hugging me and you said two nice things to me today. I think the world might be ending.”

Spencer huffed as she sat back down on Samantha’s bed and took a deep breath. She rubbed her clenched fists into her eyes and tried to wipe away impending sleep, but she’d been awake for nearly 30 hours and she was emotionally drained. “You need some sleep,” he whispered. “You’re no good to your agents if you’re a walking zombie.”

“I can’t go to sleep while they're out there undergoing only god knows what,” she replied, shaking her head and standing up again, nearly teetering over from lack of balance. “Okay, maybe you’re right. A couple hours.”

Spencer placed his hand on the small of her back and coaxing her down the stairs. “I’ll drive you home, and I’ll text my team on the way to tell them what’s happening.”

S: Y/N is exhausted. I’m driving her home. Keep me updated on any progress and I’ll let her know.

H: You finally got her to rest? She’d been awake for 30 hours and barely got any sleep for two days prior. Make sure she rests for a few hours. We’ve got everything covered.

“I let them know. They’ll keep me updated.”

Y/N nodded her head as she sat in the passenger side of the government car. Spencer got into the driver’s seat and began the hour-long drive back to the city and her apartment. It was barely five seconds into their trip that he heard her light snoring. 

                                                            ----

“We’re back,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door for her. Even after an hour long nap, she felt better. A little rest would have her at her best. 

“Thank you for driving me, Spencer.”

“It’s no problem. And I was wrong, you’re not a robot.”

She chuckled under her breath as they stepped into the elevator and made their way upstairs to her apartment. “Thanks, and I’ll try not to be such a bitch.”

“Then I’d say we’re even.”

Fumbling with the keys in her bag, she finally got the door open and walked inside. Spencer immediately walked into her kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and a piece of fruit before handing them to her. “We’ve been together for over 30 hours, and you’ve barely had anything to eat or drink in that time.”

Reluctantly, she took the banana and glass of water, downing them both in less than five minutes. He grabbed the peel and glass, disposing of them in the trash and sink. “We’re going to find them.”

As if on cue, he received a text from Hotch.

H: We have a lead.

The coordinates were in the middle of her apartment and where the rest of the BAU was now. “We have a lead.”

                                                           ----

After another hour, everything was over. Agents Turner and Wilcox were both badly bruised, but they seemed to be okay otherwise. Turner and Wilcox and narrowed down the possible headquarters to one of two places, and Wilcox had confided in a fellow classmate who she’d befriended - it turned out said classmate was a leader in the ring, despite her young age.

“You are so stubborn!” Spencer grumbled, following her around in an attempt to bring her back home. “Everyone is under arrest. You have seen your agents off; both are in stable condition. Let me take you home again. You need rest.”

“You’re annoying...” She shuffled toward Spencer and gave Hotch a wave, pointing at Spencer and then at the car. Hotch gave her a thumbs up; everything was in good hands now.

A day and a half without more than an hour’s rest was ridiculous. She’d done this in college all the time. How did she ever manage? 

“Weren’t we just here?” She laughed, looking at her front door again.

“It seems like just hours ago, and yet years ago.”

As they walked into the apartment, Y/N felt the tension release from her body. The pressure was off; she was so tired, but it was all over. She found herself crying again, and once more, Spencer held her as she did. Maybe Y/N wasn’t so bad after all. After her crying fit she lifted her head up and pressed her lips to his. “Sorry,” she said, shaking her head and turning away. “I’ve been overly emotional and now that the pressure is off, I’m just-”

“It’s okay,” Spencer replied. “It makes sense. A lot of people seek out sexual comfort after a traumatic experience. Although I do find it surprising that you’d kiss me.”

“Just because I assumed you hated me doesn’t mean I didn’t and don’t still find you attractive.” She was so tired. In reality, she should probably just go to sleep, but she was considering kissing him again; maybe she could fall asleep in a little while and not be alone. 

Before she could make the decision to kiss him again, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close. “How can someone be so annoying and attractive?”

“Just shut up,” she huffed. As they stumbled back to her room, she shrugged her jacket off and let it fall to the floor before hurriedly reaching back to pull Spencer’s shirt out. He quickly buttoned himself and threw it and his blazer in a pile alongside her clothing. 

While she made quick work of her belt and and his own, he buried his face in between her breasts, licking and sucking at her soft skin while he traced the sides of her curves his the pads of his thumbs. “Did you ever think that maybe we didn’t like each other because we had backed up sexual tension?” He laughed.

“I’d like to think we are above that,” she replied, her lips tracing his jugular vein and making their way down the sensitive skin of his collarbone. 

Spencer placed his hand on the doorknob to her bedroom and pushed it open, guiding them into the bedroom and flopping down onto the bed hastily. “I have a feeling we’re not above that.”

“What did I say,” she laughed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“I think we’re going to be doing a lot more than kissing.”

“Do you always talk this much?”

“I have a tendency to.”

Reaching down, she peeled off her jeans and motioned for him to do the same. He did as he was beckoned and then positioned himself in between her legs, kissing down her body before tasting the sweetness that had formed against the delicate lace she wore. “You were meant to be sleeping,” he laughed against her thighs. 

“You’re the one who grabbed my wrist and kissed me,” she replied, gasping as his tongue swiped against her sensitive clit. 

“Because you kissed me first.” He made his way up her body as they both continued to laugh.

The more she thought about it, the more she believed he was probably right; they’d been so horrible to each other because they both sucked with relationships. “And now here we are.” Spencer placed himself at her entrance and slid in smoothly, grabbing her hands and placing them both above her head as he began with short, shallow thrusts. “Oh fuck.” When he let go of her hands, they instantly flew back to his ass; with each thrust, she squeezed him, asking through touch that he get closer. His mouth dropped open at the feeling of her heat, keeping his pace consistent as she scraped her teeth up his chest and neck before slipping her tongue into his mouth. “Fuck me, Spencer.”

As she bit down on his earlobe, he grabbed her hands again and held them both above her head with one of his hands. The other reached underneath her curves to pull her closer by the small of her back as he thrusted into her over and over again until she was a writhing, shaking mess. “Oh hell, Spencer.”

He fell to the sheets at her side and attempted to catch his breath. “So it only took us two years of working together and hating each other to admit that we don’t actually hate each other?” Spencer asked.

Y/N bit her lip and turned to face him, raking her fingernails lightly down his chest. “I guess so,” she laughed. “But let’s keep pretending we hate each other at work.”

“That’s probably for the best,” he said. “At least for right now. I don’t want the rest of the team thinking I was full of shit.”

That would be something to explain to the Bureau; the two agents that hated each other wound up in bed together. Typical.

@coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @hogwarts-konoha @lukeassmanalvez @yoinkpeter @the-slytherin-ice-queen

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