#the doc like a month or two ago said i need to gain a little more of weight so if i vomit i think ill look even more thinner than i should

[nethertrolls]

Fenris and nereus 😐

> You know asking for a conversation between some of my worst dudes should be a crime even if they canonically end up working together. Got carried away and there’s more description abt their first meeting and less conversation lol.

> Cute little google doc for preference

> After everything that had happened in the last two months, the calmness of his life right now was almost a blessing to Fenris. That is until on the way home, he was blindfolded and thrown in the backseat of some type of vehicle.

The blindfold on the way to wherever this important meeting was occurring seemed a touch excessive when the one that had set up this meeting was supposedly Nereus Proteus according to his driver and he was just one guy who had been deceased a week ago with exactly one ally to his name. Not that he had much choice in the matter as he had been blindfolded as he had been walking back to his hive and shoved in the back seat of a vehicle.

It could have been a massive lie and if Fenris was being perfectly honest, he had expected this ride to end in his permanent departure from this miserable planet. It had been a thought that increased in frequency as the fun ride ended and he was led through what the undead jade assumed was a building by his silent driver. Fenris didn’t have to continue making assumptions for very long as in two motions, he had gained sight again and was shoved into a nicely lit room.

Although the office space was average in every possible way that it could have been described, the resident made it seem bigger than it was and more daunting. He recognised the troll from mostly gossip magazines and posters, it was Nereus himself.

“I know what happened to you,” Nereus said as the door closed. The fuchsia had his back turned away from Fenris and he looked out a window. If the jade was a much less intelligent being he would have tried to taste that fuchsia blood, “and I know what you did afterwards.”

Fenris didn’t need to ask what Nereus had referred to because he already knew. He had never been remarkable even before he had to dig his way out of the ground, just a standard rebel that had still had the energy to try and change things but then he was murdered and became a rainbow drinker. He had killed the trolls that did it, made the pretty violet look into the sun and that’s what this whole thing was about.

No one carried when any troll under middle class died but if it was a seadweller ? There was action. “It was rightfully deserved,” Fenris growled deep within his throat as he made the decision then and now to get rid of the heir.

It turned out that the surprise tactic did not work as well as Fenris had hoped for as he ended up on the floor with a questionably designed trident being pointed at his throat, “may… you are a stupid one aren’t you little dog.”

Fenris was certainly not going to lower his own self respect more than he already had by reacting so he had chosen to stay quiet, “that’s better,” Nereus said pleased, “now I don’t particularly care about any of their deaths but the public would especially when they find out it was done by some… jade.”

All he could do was watch from his position on the floor as Nereus continued to speak “but I do follow the old traditions and getting rid of you would be a waste… You can kneel now.”

It was worded as a request but it really had not been, as the weapon gets drawn away. He swallowed down his own pride as he pushed his back off the floor, remaining on his knees. A hand lingered just inches among his head without fully touching him, “now that little act of defiance is out of the way, you will do as I say. I want to hear to say that you’ll listen like a good dog.”

“Fuck you,” Fenris spat, keeping the eye contact that had going through out this conversation, “as if I’d do something like that, I’d much prefer watching you choke on your own blood if I have any choice in any of this.”

Nereus didn’t seem affected by anything Fenris had just said.

“Well Fenris Kenlsh.. Here's the thing, an important fact that you seem to be missing. I could do things for you, give you things above your station or I could leave that indigo of yours locked in a cage with you for a while… see what happens, I’m sure someone that has been a rainbowdrinker for a month and a half has complete control of his impulses.”

Fenris ground his teeth together frustrated. Nereus had obviously done his research before this little meeting had been arranged and he is smart enough to know when his beat. “fine, what do you want?”

Nereus laughed in a way that could potentially be described as charming if Fenris didn’t want to snap his neck and drink the man dry, “I knew you’d see it my way hound, get up and I’ll give you the details.”

#Fenris Kenlsh #writings with Fenris #writings with Nereus #Nereus Proteus #Ven can write sometimes ig #conversation meme #let’s all pretend it’s good ok <333

[lucysweatslove]

Trigger warning for the readmore because body/weight talk. Also: relative weight changes (no exact weight talked about but like, +/- x lbs), weight bias in medicine, my prior ED history.

I've restarted this kinda-journal entry multiple times trying to convey what I mean without rambling too much... idk if this is going to be any different.

For background: A month ago (literally 4/17), I realized I was 13 weeks from school orientation and 14 weeks from when school started. I wanted to establish some better habits, feel better in my body, etc etc, so I set up some actionable desires (eg, eat more vegetables) and turned that into a complex system to bribe myself for specific actionable tasks (eg, rewards for eating 40g of vegetables, brushing my teeth, flossing, going to bed on time, engaging in hobbies, exercise, etc). Although weight was not part of this, I had expected that these habits/tasks would lead to some weight loss. I usually start to lose some weight around this time of year because my normal eating habits transition to more fresh food and lower fat anyway (just my preferences changing with the weather), and being more intentional about water, fruits and veg, protein, exercise, etc usually also results in some weight loss.

Well, after it didn't seem to lead to weight loss the first two weeks, I got worried about health stuff, so I spent another two weeks being more meticulous about tracking so that I had ~DATA~ to back up my concerns, if they were still there and I needed to see my doc.

Monday, I weighed in and had "gained weight" from the week prior (initially up 1.2 lbs from the past week- then after I was awake for a little bit longer I had to use the bathroom and "lost" 0.6lbs from that, so I had "gained" 0.6 lbs in a week). This lead to spiraling of both health concerns and concerns for how my body will be perceived for two main reasons: one, how I look in business casual clothing (if you don't think there are higher standards for a fat person to "look respectable" under societal rules, you have been living under a rock), and two, if my ED will be invalidated in the minds of my preceptors.

Here's the thing with that second one. I wrote about my eating disorder in some essays for my applications. I didn't expect to even get interviews, and there is a "hush-hush" culture in medical education for anything related to mental health. I was very frustrated by this- my mental health history has played major roles in my scholastic history and in how I relate to medicine as a field. So I said fuck it and wrote about it. Now, this has been shared with my preceptors.

Nobody has seen my body, just my face, and this terrifies me. I think they are expecting maybe a slightly fleshy but overall "normal weight" woman- not somebody who is categorically "obese." Part of what I wrote about, and the biggest part of my story honestly, was not being taken seriously because of how I looked. I wasn't thin; my ED was atypical anorexia, which isn't actually atypical but alas, bigger bodies with restrictive eating disorders have been routinely ignored in medicine. I didn't get appropriate treatment. I quite literally had to educate myself, learn to interpret my own labs through the eyes of my ED. I learned how to read EKGs and monitor my blood pressure and quite literally medically manage my own self through my recover. And I had very little psychological support too. It was hell and I am always terrified people will say "you didn't require any support so you never had an eating disorder" just as much as I'm terrified they will say "you are fat, so you couldn't have actually had a restrictive ED. Are you sure you have this right? That you actually are binge-eating and think normal eating is disordered?" (answer to all of that: yes I had atypical anorexia; yes I am sure this is right; no I do not binge eat; no, diet culture is disordered).

So basically, I'm worried about reliving all of that trauma. And because of this, I am having a hard time with the idea that I'm not losing weight "fast enough" to be at a weight/body size that will afford me more privilege in the healthcare space (or at least, being less stigmatized).

When I sat back and thought about it, because of how bodies fluctuate, I have no idea how much weight I've actually lost. I didn't actually weigh myself on "Day 1," 4/17, because the goal wasn't weight loss- I just assumed I would lose weight, if that makes sense. I did step on the scale on 4/13, and then I weighed myself again on 4/21. And these two numbers differed by like 2.8 lbs. I also keep comparing my weight from one weigh-in to the next, rather than looking at it from a whole.

Here's a chart showing weight change from the prior weight in (blue curve, what I've been looking at) and overall change in weight over the last month (orange). "0" is the start date, and the first entry is 4 days before then (the 4/13). The giant drop you see at the end? That's the difference from Monday to today. There will probably be another rise soon too, because bodies fluctuate normally and that's just that.

In essence, I am losing weight just fine, but in my head it's not fast enough and not consistent enough because it will never be fast and consistent enough for me to not be worried about weight bias in medicine- both how I'll be perceived as a patient and as a future provider.

#tw #weight #weight change #fat phobia #weight bias #atypical anorexia recover

[pyriety-a]

so, i’ve had this information kind of floating around in google docs for a while now, i just. never really tweaked it or posted much of it anywhere because why would i need to but!! deidre’s skills & passive talents below the cut, because i accidentally wrote a novel-

basic overview & behavior

like i first explained about a month ago, deidre is a textbook example of a glass cannon, just with some extra healing abilities on the side. her default weapon is and always will be a catalyst, but the sword is her secondary weapon, though it’s one she usually only switches to when backed into a corner or simply too close to an enemy to waste time on using the catalyst. since she’s very susceptible to damage of basically any kind, her main strategy is to simply move faster and overwhelm the enemy before they can even get to her. so, if she ends up taking too long / it gets to a point where the sword needs to come out, she’s in serious danger.

as for her behavior during combat, the majority of the time, she isn’t talking, like, at all. even in situations where it would be beneficial for her to call out, whether for help or to find an ally she’s lost track of, she doesn’t. not that she doesn’t want to, because any help or company is always appreciated!! but when there’s a fight to be won, she is completely laser focused on winning. fighting isn’t even something she particularly enjoys, but if it’s unavoidable, she might as well do everything she can ( within reason, of course ) to achieve victory, whether there’s people at her side or not.

all that said, while her style tends to be particularly ruthless as i’m about to get into, it has to be said that killing the enemy is never in the game plan. rarely is she in a situation where death can occur anyway, but when she is, she will refuse to take a life every single time. usually the burns she tends to leave on an opponent are enough to get them to stand down, but if they aren’t, she’ll either keep fighting with restraint for as long as she can, or she’ll let someone else deal the killing blow. that’s not to say she likes letting that happen either, but if that’s how far a situation has to go, mercy isn’t really an option anymore.

normal attack

alright, so. when using a catalyst, deidre’s attack style closely resembles ningguang’s in that each successful hit will gather one floating ball of fire, which she likes to call wisps, and will continue to gather until three are present. a charged attack in this state won’t do much extra damage on the initial impact, but each incoming wisp 1) does increasingly more damage with the third wisp dealing the most, and 2) becomes just a little stronger the farther it travels ( while still keeping the gradual damage increase with each wisp ), hence why it’s in her best interest to build them up as fast as she possibly can. a downside to this is that not every wisp will target the same enemy, but the damage dealt will increase with each hit nonetheless.

( not that this matters in the writing department all that much but i want to include it anyway: if she was actually a playable character, switching to a different character while wisps were unused would reset the counter, putting her back at zero when she was brought back out, and they’d need to be built up again )

elemental skill & alt. normal attack

while it’s technically her skill, in reality, it’s...just her deciding to use her sword instead, it’s a stance change. here, her attacks aren’t unlike other sword users, and a full combo would be the usual five swings. while successful hits build up wisps in the same way, it’s only on the first, third, and fifth successful hits in a row that they’re gained. this is...more of a gameplay approach to describing it, but building up two wisps and then stopping the combo would not grant another one on the next immediate hit of the second combo, it would still only gather on the fifth.

however, while these wisps are “ activated ” by a charged attack the same way the usual kind are, those gathered in this stance are instead manipulated and converted into a lot of extra energy to keep her, and allies around her, in the fight a little longer. while she can recover most—if not all, on rare occasions—of the energy she’s lost throughout the battle over the course of around 9 - 10 seconds, the recovery isn’t immediate, and it’s still very possible for her to take lots of damage from enemies in melee range and end up right back where she started if she isn’t careful. meanwhile, as the odd swings gather wisps, the second and fourth hits do much less damage, but inflict pyro damage on top of the physical damage she’s already doing, albeit with less physical damage being dealt. it may do less damage, certainly, but bonus effects aren’t exactly unwelcome.

again, still more of a gameplay description here, but to avoid spamming her healing ability and to keep things somewhat balanced, the stance change would immediately end after the healing kicked in and the cooldown wouldn’t exactly be short, maybe around 25 - 30 seconds. to sort of explain that in a way that would make sense in writing, though... swinging a sword around takes a lot of physical strength and energy, which she does have! but having to restore not only her own health, but other people’s as well, renders her sword arm useless, so it’s back to the catalyst she goes to recharge-

elemental burst

quite possibly the most useful / dangerous attack she has in her arsenal; deidre’s ultimate sends out a single ring of flames that deals massive pyro damage upon impact, then continues to burn those left standing, albeit in a weaker way, for up to around 7 - 8 seconds. every action must have a counteraction, though, and deidre’s comes in the form of hp loss. for the entirety of her burst’s duration, the energy needed to keep the flames burning drains her own health. in fact, it’s rare that she even uses this, because in her weaker points, *cough* level 1 to unascended level 40 when her hp stat is still pretty low for someone at that stage *cough* it’s usage can quite literally kill her. if she’d have to use it for whatever reason, she enables the healing ability of her skill first, just to make sure she’ll recover, and THEN her burst. it will still drain her quite a bit, but at least it won’t outright kill her. probably. using any other combination beforehand, though, is basically a death sentence. or, if it isn’t by some miracle, then it comes very close.

passive #1

once again, i gotta describe it more as a mechanic, but when inflicting pyro onto enemies already affected by any element other than pyro, her attacks will gain a boost of 2%, 3%, or 4% depending on whether she has 1, 2, or 3 wisps around her. not a huge boost by any means, but it’s enough to once again place emphasis on her strategy of “ gather wisps to do as much damage as possible, any way possible, as fast as possible. ”

passive #2

as i have it written down in the original doc, “ when deidre cooks an attack boosting dish perfectly, she has a 20% chance to return one of each ingredient used, ” which is nifty as a mechanic, but somehow she’s just really good at making food taste as great as it normally would while using less ingredients in the process.

…this one was only added because chef deidre brings me joy, that’s it-

#( headcanons. ) #wowie this took a little too long to word properly- #now uh. this might change a bit at some point because i feel like it's sTILL a lil much DFDFKJRIJDFM

[hercleverboy]

stars

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary ↠ spencer and the reader watch the stars and talk about their future.

category ↠ fluff

warnings/includes ↠ none

word count ↠ 1.7k

dedicating this fluff fest to my wifey, @alltooreid thank you for not only your creative input on this, but also for being there for me when i needed someone. much love <333

“And so I named the stars one by one, after every favourite memory of you.” — Stephen Stilwell

“Isn’t it beautiful?” She whispered, eyes staring up into the night, drawn to the little specks of light dotted in the clear sky. They were laid on the soft grass, blanket beneath them as they looked up together, beaming smiles on both their faces.

He grinned down at the woman who rested her head on his chest, his arms wound tightly around her. “It certainly is. I’m surprised the sky is so clear tonight, I really didn’t think we were going to be able to see much.” He admitted with a little laugh.

She chuckled at that. “You didn’t think we’d see much, and yet you still let me drag you out here at an ungodly hour so we could watch the stars?” She asked, shuffling slightly so she could look up at him.

“Of course. You’re cute when you’re excited, I didn’t have the heart to tell you that the probability of the sky being clear enough for us to see anything was only around 37%.” He explained, intertwining their hands together. “But there you go again, proving me wrong.”

“Hm. Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” She joked, making him roll his eyes.

“I am! Unless you too can recite the Bible from memory? Or the manual for our microwave?” He joked, causing Y/N to give him a gentle shove.

“Can I ask you something?” She whispered, looking up at him.

He breathed out. “Anything.”

They were quiet for a little while before she spoke again. “Do you ever think about our future?”

Spencer’s breath hitched at the question.

Of course, he thought about their future. All the time. Marriage, kids, a big house with a white picket fence, perhaps even a dog. It was the ‘apple-pie’ life he’d dreamt of, more than he’d like to admit.

He gave her a squeeze, one of reassurance.

They’d been together for two years. Two years that had simultaneously been the best and worst of his life. In those years he’d nearly died after being shot in the neck, he’d lost Alex, Kate, Gideon, and the team was still under immense threat from Mr. Scratch. And somehow, admist all the chaos, he’d met this incredible woman who had helped him through it all. The last few months in particular had been rough for him. With Morgan leaving the team and his mother’s condition worsening, it had certainly made him reconsider everything he had in his life and also reminded him of not only what he’d lost, but what he’d gained. 

Y/N sighed, but still gave Spencer a smile. “It’s ok. We don’t have to talk about it, I was only wondering.”

“No, no. It’s ok. I’m just trying to gather my thoughts, is all.” He assured her, moving to sit up straight. Y/N sat up too, Spencer reaching out and grabbing one of her hands to hold tightly in his. “I think about it all the time, truthfully.” He mumbled.

“You do?”

“Of course, I do. You’re it for me, Y/N.” He gave a small smile, his gaze dropping to their intertwined fingers. “It’s just, I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

Y/N nodded, urging him to continue.

“I’ve been thinking about my position at the BAU.” He stated firmly. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly in shock, surprised at the confession. The way he said it was so sure, so certain. He’d evidently been thinking about it for quite some time.

“Ever since Morgan left, I’ve been going over it again and again in my head. I understand why he left. His family needed him and it’s honestly the most admirable thing I’ve ever seen him do. I just wonder,” He paused, biting down on his lip in thought. “Would it be wise for me to make the same decision he did?” 

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean— Y/N I love you. I want us to get married, have children, I want us to have a life together. And after watching Morgan, seeing how he gave up the job for his family, don’t you think I should do that too? For you, for us?” He explained, eyes finally meeting her worried ones.

“Woah, woah Spence. Are you saying you’re thinking of leaving the BAU?” She clarified, moving a little closer to him.

Spencer nodded. “I know, it seems crazy right? At first I couldn’t believe that I was even considering it but I’ve thought about it a lot and it just, it seems like the right thing to do.” He gave a small shrug. “If we’re going to have a life together I want our family to be my priority, and I just don’t think I can do that while I’m still doing this job. I’ve seen it all first hand. I watched Hotch lose Haley, I watched Morgan nearly lose Savannah, all because of this job.” 

Y/N shook her head slowly, much to Spencer’s surprise. “Spencer... I won’t be the reason that you leave a job that you worked so hard for, a job that you love so much. What about the team? They’re your family- “

It was Spencer’s turn to shake his head, cutting her off mid-sentence. “You’re right. The team are my family, but so are you. And if they care about me like I know they do, they’ll support me with this. And as for jobs? There are plenty out there that I’ll enjoy. I’ve actually been thinking of getting in contact with Alex, maybe asking about teaching opportunities at Georgetown.”

Y/N looked up at him, eyebrows furrowing as she studied his face intently. He avoided her eyes, small smile pulling at his lips.

She smiled back, a knowing look on her face. “You’ve already spoken to Alex about it, haven’t you?”

Spencer chuckled with a nod. “You know me too well. I spoke to her last week. She said there’s an open spot as the head of the Criminal Psychology department. The job is mine if I want it.”

Y/N gave him a grin, squeezing his hands. “Are you sure this is what you want?” He nodded, but that wasn’t enough for her. “No, I need to hear you say it. I need to know that you’re not going to resent me in a few years because of this.”

He was quick to shake his head, pulling her toward him as one of his hands came up to cup her face. “I would never resent you.”

“So, this is what you want?” She asked once more, just so she knew he was absolutely sure. 

He nodded adamantly. “I want you. I’m only ever going to want you.” He murmured the words so softly that it made Y/N’s heart ache. “Now, and for the rest of my days.”

With joyful tears building in her eyes she nodded, enveloping him in a hug as he kissed the side of her forehead.

Spencer let out a sigh accompanied by a teary smile. He gave her a squeeze, his hands soothing along her back as he looked up at the stars. “Did you know, there’s an old Buddhist saying that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. We’re supposedly, quite literally, bound together through space and time. Isn’t that cool?” He rambled, earning a chuckle from Y/N.

“That is really cool.” She agreed. 

“You know I’m a man of science, but how else is it possible that you came into my life at a time where I needed you the most?” He whispered the last part, as though he was afraid to be so vulnerable as to let the words leave his lips. “Do you- do you think it’s possible that the stars brought us together?” 

She grinned, tilting back her head slightly to look up at the stars with him. “Yeah, I think so.” 

*

Spencer looked down in awe at the baby girl pressed against his bare chest. Josephine June Reid, barely three days old and already she had her father wrapped right around her tiny finger. Nothing he’d ever felt before compared to the feeling he had when he looked down at her, his little girl, his daughter. She slept peacefully against him, her little chest rising and falling rhythmically as his hands soothed over her back, gently rocking her. 

There was a soft knock on the nursery door, his tired-looking wife pushing it open. “Spence?”

He looked up, and offered her a warm smile. “Hey, you’re supposed to be resting.”

Y/N gave a sleepy grin, moving toward them. “You know that we’re supposed to sleep when she does, right?”

He snickered at that, raising an eyebrow at her. “You only gave birth three days ago. You know I’m going to tell you to get back into bed, right? Doctor’s orders.”

She held her hands up in a mock surrender, placing a kiss on the side of Spencer’s head. “I know.” 

It was silent for a moment, the new parents just staring down at the little life they’d created, filled with such a warmth, such a happiness that they’d never felt before. 

“I can’t put her down, not yet. I don’t want to let her go.” Spencer whispered, bringing up a finger to soothe over his daughter’s cheek. “I love her so much.”

“I know. She loves you too.” Y/N assured, watching with joy at how Spencer was with their daughter. He really was a natural with kids.

“You really should go back to bed, love. You need all the rest you can get.” He warned in a playful tone.

Y/N chuckled a little with a nod, bending down to press a gentle kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “I’m not going to fight you on that one Doc, I’m exhausted.” She ruffled the curls on her husband’s head, offering him a warm smile. “Love you. Come back to bed soon, yeah?”

Spencer nodded, promising he would.  

Before Y/N left the nursery, she turned back to her husband, calling his name softly. “Spence?”

“Yeah, love?”

“Do you regret it now?” She whispered, her fingers fumbling together as though she was afraid she wouldn’t like his answer. “Do you regret leaving the BAU?”

The question made him frown, it made him think. Did he regret leaving? 

His eyes flickered between his wife and the beautiful little girl against his chest and he smiled slightly at the realisation. This was everything he’d ever wanted, here, right in front of him. Every decision he’d made, every moment of heartache, every person he’d lost, they had all lead him there. To that very moment. 

And for that, he was so incredibly grateful. 

“No.” He replied, his voice as sure as the day he first mentioned leaving. “Not even for a second.”

He supposed he had the stars to thank for that. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #mgg #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x y/n #criminal minds

[navalcriminalimagines]

Hi!! Happy New Year!! So....I had a request that I’ve been dying to ask for like the longest time. But what if the reader is a doctor and married to Gibbs, and when a member of the team is hurt, she operates/heals them? And then she comes out and comforts Gibbs like all fluffy and sweet? He’s just so in love with her?? Aahhhh makes my brain mush thinking about it xxxxx

happy new year to you too!!! thanks a lot for your request! i hope it’s what you were expecting!! much love and stay safe ✨💖

NCIS, Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader.

Being you

“Male in his thirties, gun shot in the abdomen. He lost conscious on the ride here, lost a lot of blood,” the paramedics announced to you.

As you took a look to the man laying there, all bloody, you realized it was your husband’s team member Timothy McGee. Although he was unconscious, you put your hand to his cheek, you let him know, “Tim, it’s me Y/N. You’re gonna fine okay? I’m taking care of you. Hang in there,”

Before you knew it, you were in surgery, taking the bullet off his abdomen. Tim gave you a big scare on the operating table, when his heart started to race, your assistant was scared it may stop. “Tim! don’t do this,” you took a warning ton, “Your boss won’t forgive me and he sure as hell won’t forgive you,”

You knew you had to think about your patient only, that Tim only should be in your mind but you couldn’t help but to think about your husband. You don’t know what happened exactly, how the gunshot took place but Gibbs must be in the worst state of mind right now.

The surgery lasted longer than you thought since it cause damages into Tim’s stomach. His healing will take time, and he would be out of action for months. As you were putting the last stitch on his scar, your assistant congratuled you as she always does. “Team work,” you smiled at her. You took a look at Tim’s face. He was peaceful but very pale. Once again, you put your hand on his cheek, “You did good, Tim.”

You made sure he was taken safely into the resuscitation room, and walked to the waiting room. You thought your husband would be there, standing and waiting but instead, you saw Abby, Ducky and Jimmy. The lab tech jumped into your arms, not caring about the blood you had all over your blouse, “Is he okay? Is Tim okay?”

“He’s fine, Abbs. Still unconscious, but you’ll be able to see him soon,” you softly smiled at her.

“I knew he was in good hand,” you heard the medical examiner telling you.

You hugged Ducky and Jimmy, before asking. “Where’s Jethro?”

“Chasing the man who did this. Safe to say that one won’t stop by your operating table,” Jimmy awkwardly laughed. Tipical Jimmy Palmer. Of course the man who shot Tim was a dead man.

Your shift was over hours ago, but as long as Jethro was still out there looking for the shooter, you stayed around to check on Tim. You know your husband isn’t a texter, but you kept checking your phone to see if he has answer your text.

Tim’s safe. How are you? And the team? You guys stay safe, okay? Want you to be there when I get home. I love you, J.

The morning rose. Tim was still out. Abby, Ducky and Jimmy made rounds to stay with him. “Doc! Already here or never left?” Your assistant greeted you in the locker room, as her new shift was about to start.

“I stayed with my husband’s team,” you tiredly smiled at her.

“Is his coworker still okay? No complications?”

“All is good for now,”

“You should go home. We got this. We’ll take a good care of him,”

“You’re sweet but I’ll go home when J has. It’s my duty to stay here,”

“Do you have a male version of yourself? Wouldn’t mind a partner like you,”

You chuckled at her words and thanked her for always being this awesome. You heard a certain brouhaha coming from the hallway, and as you rushed there, you realized it was coming from Tim’s room. Abby looked all freaked out at you, “He—he started to convulsed. Do something, Y/N, please,” she begged.

Thank god it wasn’t something too serious. A few minutes later, Tim’s vitals came back to normal and he started to gain conscious. “Morning, Warrior,” you smiled at him.

He was out of it, his body was in total pain but he giggled at your words. “T—Thank you doc Gibbs,” he managed to say.

“Go back to sleep before Abby gives you a lecture,”

He smiled and dozed off.

It’s late in the afternoon that you heard from your husband. Or at least, that Ducky told you he was home. You checked on last time on Tim, gave instructions, told everyone to call if needed and you went home to your husband.

The house was complete dark and you didn’t hear a single sound. Jethro was probably exhausted, so you didn’t turn on the lights, only using your phone’s flash. You found him laying on the couch, face buried in a pillow. You sat next to him, softly stroked his hair and when he moved his head to the side, you kissed his temple. “Hi my love,” you whispered. “How are you?”

He turned around and opened his arms for you to come laying on his chest. “Better now,” he said. You could hear his voice was about to crack. You were exhausted from the last 40 hours - your normal shift, plus Tim’s surgery and staying until now. But your husband’s mental health was all that mattered at this moment.

You stayed in his arms for a moment, enjoying the small circles his hand was doing in your back. Eventually you sat up and took him with you. “Hungry?” He shook his head no. “Wanna go into bed?” He did the same. “I got an idea then,” you kissed his forehead, “Stay here until I call you,” Jethro watched you going upstairs and wondered how he got this lucky.

You called him ten minutes later. Unexpectedly to him, you had prepared a bath. Warm, bubbly with candles. Without a word, you helped him undressed and told him to get into the bathtub. He did as told. “Come with me,” he whispered.

“In a minute,”

But first, you offered to massage his scalp and temples. Leaning into every touch, Jethro felt all the tensions for the past day fading away. Maybe all the tensions he ever had even. He doesn’t understand how he got you to fall in love with him. How could a woman like you marry him? He could never understand.

Still leaning into your touch, he repeated, “Come with me, Y/N,” he sounded so needy, you couldn’t refuse this time. You felt his blue eyes all on you as you undressed and joined him in the bathtub. He laid down and invited you to come rest on his chest, but you refused and made him spin around in the bathtub. He heard him giggle as his legs were blocked. You don’t get to hear his laugh often, and it made you fall in love with him a little more. Finally, he managed to spin and laid down on your chest. “What did I do?” You heard him say, as you were softly caressing his arms and chest, playing with his chest hair from time to time.

“What?” You asked.

“What did I do so you fell in love with me? And—married me?” He asked. It sounded like a genuine question.

“It would take me a book to answer this and you don’t read books,”

Jethro gets this. He got a commun point between you too; avoiding serious question about your feelings. So he let it slide. You and him stayed silent until the water got cold. You helped him wash, and so he did for you. Even if he told again he wasn’t hungry, you prepared two bowls of cereals and joined him on the couch, under blankets.

Still, he doesn’t understand. How in the world would a woman want to eat cereals in front of a tv that only has one channel. In black and white. But here you are, drinking your milk and watching the western movie as if it was the blockbuster of the year.

You were watching the tv, and Jethro was watching you when your phone buzzed. It was your coworker.

Could’ve warn me your friend was such a drama queen. He called, claiming he was dying because his stomach was making weird things. He was hungry.

You laughed at the text and read it to Jethro. “I’ll give him hard times if he gives some to your friends,” he chuckled, getting you closer to him and kissing your temple.

“Why didn’t you come see him?” You asked.

“Chased the man who did it,” he paused, “And I knew he was safe with you,”

Perhaps he did, but you could still on his face how worried he has been since yesterday. “Your cereals look like porridge,” you smiled.

“Sorry. Told you I wasn’t hungry,” Jethro said. He put his bowl on the coffee table and you felt his body curling on your side. You finished your milk, put the bowl away and opened your arms so his head could rest on your chest.

“Thank you,” you heard him whisper.

“What for?”

“Being you,”

You didn’t see the tear escaping your husband’s eye.

#jethro gibbs x reader #ncis #jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #ncis reader insert #ncis x reader #ncis fiction #ncis imagines #tim mcgee #abby sciuto #ducky mallard #jimmy palmer

[giorno-plays-piano]

Rx Queen

Pairing: criminal!Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: obsession, stalking, non-con, breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 2567. 

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes was the most difficult patient you had ever treated as a criminal psychiatrist. His release from prison doesn’t make things easier for you. 

_____________________________________ 

You turned off the phone and threw it on a chair, clenching your teeth. Whatever Dr. Strange wanted you to do, you wouldn’t stay another day in this goddamn place, waiting to be abducted or even murdered. It was too much. Today you found the new bottle of your favourite perfume on your nightstand. It wasn’t there before you went to bed last night. In fact, you could hardly remember the last time you bought yourself a perfume.

It all started two months ago when James Buchanan Barnes, the patient you had been working with during those seven long years, was finally released from State prison after serving 15 years of life sentence. The Soldier, as prisoners called him, once gone mad and murdered his commander. Bucky – that’s how he asked you to call him during your first seance – had PTSD, antisocial personality disorder, and severe depression. You could say he became better after all those years of treatment, including insane doses of antidepressants and mood stabilizers, but it was not enough to set him free. He was dangerous, psychotic even, yet devilishly clever: he knew how to portray a man who had reconsidered his life choices and deeply regretted taking someone’s life. 

You knew he had never truly cared. Patients like him did not have capacity for remorse.

You started treating him once you became a criminal psychiatrist; Bucky was among your very first patients. Now when you thought of it, you could hardly believe Dr. Strange just transferred a patient like him to you, a young girl with too little experience to handle an unpredictable psychopath hiding behind a façade of a victim. Of course, you made many mistakes, starting from telling Bucky about your own past and some mental issues. That time you believed you can gain trust of your patients by being more open about yourself. You were a complete idiot.

Now there was not much to do once his time in prison was up. You didn’t have true evidence to make him stay. A part of you wasn’t even sure you wanted it – when a riot had started in the prison three years ago, it was Bucky who shielded you with his own body from Brock Rumlow, a serial killer and your second most dangerous patient. Bucky was the only reason you were still alive.

But he was also the reason why you were leaving in haste, packing only necessities. 

It all started quite innocently with him sending you flowers and thanking for everything you had done for him. It didn’t alert you that he knew what your favourite flowers were. You thought it was just a coincidence since bouquets like these were sold in any flower shop in the city.

Then you stumbled upon him in a café where you often had your breakfast on weekends. It could alert you, but Bucky was sitting with a charming red-haired woman, her manicured hand resting on his thigh. She didn’t quite strike you as his sister, especially since you knew he had no relatives left after his violent father died in a car accident. Seeing such a beautiful woman with him just two weeks after Bucky was released from a prison was surprising, but you knew how seductively charming Barnes could be. Besides, he looked really good in his biker jacket, his tight black jeans showing his strong muscular legs.

In the end, you just talked to both of them a little and gave your advice on which dishes to choose. You walked away, praying you were wrong about Bucky and hoping he could settle peacefully like some of your former patients. Actually, even though many of them were imprisoned again, others were able to return to normal life. Some even had families now – from time to time you received thank-you notes with nice photos and many heartwarming words. It was probably one of the few things that made you keep your job.

It was over now. You were not going to stay in a place Bucky break into multiple times. Maybe you were not sure before, but the bottle of perfume was an obvious sign. It also meant that when a week ago you woke up and smell a man’s scent on your sheets you were not delirious. Bucky was there. He was laying beside you on your fucking bed.

How did it happen? Why didn’t you see his obsession growing with each day? You were his psychiatrist; you knew him better than anyone. How could he hide his infatuation with you for so long? Of course, you knew he had some feelings for you, but it was never that bad. You thought he would forget about you once he would be released. In the end, now you were not the only woman he saw around.

You kept stumbling upon his beefy figure more and more often. You realized Bucky was stalking you when after a month of his release you saw him watching your house from the forest. He was hiding behind the trees and bushes. It was a miracle you managed to see him at all – after 15 years he was still the Soldier, his skills remaining keen.

You tried talking to Dr. Strange. It wasn’t your first time being followed by your former patient, and police had always assisted you. But Barnes wasn’t like any of those stupid psychos who left tons of evidence behind them. Police had nothing to work with.

Well, you weren’t going to sit there and wait for Barnes to come and get you. You had no idea what was going on in his unstable mind, and you weren’t ready to take risks. You had already booked a flight to Austria tonight.

It was scary, thinking about wandering around a city you had never been, in a foreign country where you had neither relatives nor friends. But Barnes would have a hard time following you there, and that’s what mattered.

You threw a pack of salted cashew in the bag and returned to the bedroom to grab your phone from the chair. It wasn’t there. Although you dropped it just five minutes ago, your phone simply wasn’t there.

You were so fucked.

Next minute you were in the kitchen grabbing a knife, but a strong muscular arm knocked it out of your hand, and you felt Bucky’s musky scent. He stood behind your back, caging you with his bulky arms. You froze and held your breath. You knew you better obeyed the man instead of provoking him to become violent.

“And where were you going, honey?” His husky voice was enough to make you tremble. “It’s not nice to leave without saying goodbye, is it?”

“Please, Bucky.” You did your best to hide how frightened you were. “Stop.”

“No, honey.”

He leaned closer to you and buried his nose in your hair, inhaling its smell. His rough hands were already caressing your body through the clothes.

“You’re free to start a new life. You can find a good woman, have a family if you’d like.” Panic was rising in your chest. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“No, Bucky, it’s not.” You said in a calm voice. “It will only get you back behind the bars. Don’t throw away your life, please.”

“What life?” He growled, turning you around harshly, and you almost fell on his chest, his arms holding you still. “I have no life. I should have never left my cell, you know this better than anyone else. I’m rotten. Damaged goods. I will never have the life I’ve always wanted. Do you know I have nightmares every fucking night again?”

“It’s because you don’t take your pills.” You carefully put your hands against Bucky’s chest. He tried manipulating you, you knew that. “When was the last time you had thioridazine?”

“Stay with me, and I’ll take whatever pills you want me to.” He grinned suddenly, cupping your face. 

Bucky’s strong athletic body emanated heat, and you were already sweating from both his closeness to you and an extreme agitation. Why did it take you so long to leave? You should have done it the first thing in the morning, just grab your documents and money and run to the car. Maybe then you had a chance. Unless Bucky had already been hiding inside your house…

“Why do you want to make a wrong choice again?” You felt his heart beating loudly with your palm against his chest. “You are given a chance to start over. If you want me to consult you still, I can figure something out. I can continue helping you, but you need to find your way. Don’t you think it’s good to meet new people, have friends, find a job, date a girl?”

“Who wants to deal with a psychopath like me?” He let out a chuckle, his expression darkening. “No one can handle me, doc. No one but you. Do you know I wanted to commit suicide before you showed up seven years ago? If not you, they’d already buried me.”

Before you opened your mouth to protest, he turned you around again and gently nudged you towards your bedroom. You broke out in cold sweat. If Bucky was able to outpower Rumlow, that beast of a man, he would have no problems forcing you to do whatever he pleased. It took three strong prison guards to bring someone like Bucky down. You were helpless.

“No one out there is good enough.” His breath was tickling your ear. “You’re the only one, can’t you see? Maybe I’m rotten to the core, but you still helped me. You made me better.”

You stopped in front of your bed, the white cotton sheets and blue blanket crumpled. You stormed off early in the morning once you saw a bottle of perfume on the nightstand and didn’t care to make your bed.

You needed to keep calm. As far as you could see, Bucky didn’t plan to murder you, not when you would accept him, that is. He obviously had a nice plan how to make you stay with him without police knowing, but as long as he kept you alive you still had a chance. You needed to play along.

“On the bed.” He let out a low growl, and you felt the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass.

Shivering, you took off your slippers and sat on the bed facing him. His erection was obvious; Bucky was breathing heavily, his pupils dilated. The next second he was pulling his black t-shirt over his head, and you saw his shredded body littered with scars. You saw one particularly long one on the side close to his waistline: this was the one Rumlow gave him when Bucky was protecting you during the riot. The man let out a quiet laugh when he saw your eyes focused on a nasty pink line.

“Why are you frightened, honey? I know you want a family too. You good-for-nothing ex wasn’t able to give it to you, but I can.” His hands landed on your bared shoulders, and you flinched a little. “Let’s get married, and I swear I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

“Bucky, relationships don’t work like this.” You whispered, withholding a cry when his hand pushed you down on the bed. 

“Don’t they?” The man smiled and cocked his head to the side, removing his black leather belt. “You do something for me, I do something for you. That’s what I learnt in prison.”

You dragged yourself back as quickly as you could, but your back was pressed into the wall once Bucky put his knee on your bed. There was nowhere to run.

“Don’t be scared, honey.” His sweet voice broke the silence, and he crawled to you, slowly caging you with his bodyweight. “Let’s make a deal. You marry me, you bear my child, and I will return to prison. I don’t care if they’ll give me twice more pills or make me a lethal injection as far as you take care of my kid. You’ll love my kid, won’t you? You’ll take care of them. You’ll make them a better person than I am.”

The more he spoke, the more feverishly he touched you, his left hand pinning your palms above your head. He traced his arm along your breast, ripping your shirt with so much force that its green buttons ended on the floor. You realized your cheeks were wet with tears when Bucky kissed you on the forehead and wiped your face with his other hand.

He wanted to have kids with you. Why? Why you? Why did he consider you a perfect mother? Why did he consider returning to prison? Why was he ready to trade his goddamn life for a chance of having a child? Why couldn’t he have a child with someone else and just keep living?

Oh, of course he couldn’t. Bucky loathed himself. It wasn’t uncommon for the patients with Cluster B personality disorders, and it was probably true he wanted to end his life since you saw his self-destructing behavior. In the end, even his effort to save your life back than in the prison might be some kind of a suicide attempt. 

And the reason he wanted you and no one else… Well, you were the one who had been taking care of him all these years. The only one to navigate him through his nightmares when everyone else gave up on him. He saw good in you. He wanted it for himself. He wanted to make sure his child would never be treated the way he was.

You cried out when Bucky suddenly forced his cock into you. It felt like he was ripping you apart – he was huge. Your eyes flooded with tears again, and he cooed at you softly, pressing his chapped lips to your burning face. You couldn’t even remember when was the last time you had sex since you broke up with your ex a year ago. Thankfully, Bucky gave you time to adjust. He kept whispering filth into your ears and stroking your naked thighs. When did he take off your jeans?..

He kissed the top of your head, playing with your hair, and moved his hips slightly. You hissed in pain, but then realized it was a bit better – the pleasure started building up slowly, and you squeezed your eyes shut. No, no, you were not disgusting, your body tried to cope the best way it could, nothing else, it was a perfectly normal reaction, you knew that. Then you felt Bucky licking up the shell of your ear and whined desperately.

“It’ll be ok.” He whispered and kissed your temple. “I’ll take you to a nice place, and we’ll be there all alone. Once I make sure you’re pregnant I’ll return to prison, I give you my word.”

You bit down on your lip to muffle the noise coming out of your mouth.

“If they keep me alive, I might become your patient again.” He sounded almost ecstatic, rutting deep into you. “I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll stuff my mouth with your pills. Please, just stay with me.”

Staring at the white ceiling, you bit your tongue so hard your mouth filled with blood. You’d survive this. You’d get him behind the bars again. 

You wouldn’t stay.

#bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes

[james-rowan]

Here’s my (very late, sorry 😓) contribution to the @dualrainbow Pride event. Thank you To_Dragons for helping me edit.

Ships: Montagne/Blitz, Lion/Doc, Valkyrie/Finka and Castle/Maverick

The Pride Festival

The Austin Texas Pride Festival was held on a hot, sunny afternoon, and it smelled of fair food, sunscreen and energy. It was colorful, and bright, mrainbows everywhere, adorning stalls, signs and, of course, people.

To the European operators who had been to Pride events before, it was not only loud, but bold. From the outfits, that ranged from simple rainbow wristbands to full on outrageous outfits (or just a jockstrap), to the signs and stalls and performance stages. Couples were embracing, kissing and making out openly and passionately, without shame or guilt, not only couples but the rare poly groups, finally able to carry on with open affections and taking full advantage. The atmosphere was infectious. It had already claimed Maverick and Castle, who walked very close to each other -despite the heat- hands in each other’s back pockets. They also were very unrestrained with the kissing.

And Montagne thought that he and Blitz could be overly affectionate. But then he was still waiting for his lover to meet them there. He had flown out on his own specifically for this.

Their group included the aforementioned Castle and Maverick, Valkyrie, Finka, himself, Lion and Doc.

They had traveled from Fort Polk, Louisiana, where they, that being the FBI SWAT, SEALs and GIGN, and one tagalong (at her vehement request) Finka, were doing training with the U.S. Army rangers stationed there. After two weeks of a field exercise in muggy swamplands, their Pride group had been excited to go somewhere dry, but unfortunately Houston did not live up to the Texas desert stereotypes; it was almost as humid as Fort Polk. But at least here there was civilization. And Montagne himself was excited to finally see Blitz.

“Schatz!”

Speaking of whom, he was charging at them, looking very much the part of a Pride attendee. He caught his lover in his arms, swinging him around once, despite the soreness from training, then dipped him into a deep kiss. that gained the awe and cheers of not only from some in their own group, but several onlooking strangers as well.

When they finally parted , Lion muttered, “They’re acting like they haven’t seen each other in a year.”

The couple ignored him as Blitz held Monty out in arms length to appraise his outfit. He tutted, “Not to live up to the stereotype, Schatz, but what are you wearing?”

Montagne looked down at himself. He was wearing a lightweight button down with rolled up sleeves, dark trousers and shined shoes, nothing offensive, if a bit formal compared to everyone else, but the reason was important.

Blitz himself was dressed the complete opposite, wearing a loose stringer tanktop that exposed his toned shoulders and even his pecs when he moved just right. Jean cutoff shorts, sneakers with colorful laces, large sunglasses, a backwards ball cap, wristbands: every article of clothing was either rainbow colored, or had an inclusive pride flag adorning it.

“Euh… what’s wrong with it?

“If it were any other day, nothing,” Blitz said. “You look sharp and sexy as ever. But this is Pride, American Pride, ja? Look around.”

Almost everyone was wearing Pride merchandise, had flags draped on their shoulders, or had face paint of various LGBTQ+ symbols, from obvious t more subtle. The bolder were the ones wearing much more and the even bolder much less.

Blitz grabbed his hand, “Come, we’re fixing this.”

“Aren’t we a little old for…”

“Psst, nein. This will be fun, ja? To dress up as we please, get swept up in the atmosphere.”

“We can already dress as we please.”

“I mean colorful, and silly, no fashion rules to hold us back. Come on!”

With that Blitz dragged him off, leaving the rest in their wake.

~

“Well,” Finka chuckled. “Hi to you too, Elias.”

“Those two are disgusting,” Lion snickered. “How long have they been together? A year?”

“Two,” Finka said. “With no signs of slowing down.”

“Their honeymoon phase is going to last forever at this rate,” Valkyrie said.

“That explains why Gilles is going to…” Lion stopped himself, eyes wide.

“What is Gilles going to do?” Valkyrie was now very interested.

“Olivier, you wanted to show me something?” Doc, the amazing man he was, quickly interjected.

Had it been a few months ago, Lion would have been confused, but now Doc had bailed him out enough times during conversations that he immediately went, “Ah right, this way.”

“We’ll go with you,” Valkyrie smirked.

“Non, non, it's private,” Lion said.

“The good Catholic boy he is, he cannot share,” he said, steering Lion away before he could reveal too much.

Out of earshot, Lion mumbled, “How can you be nice while mocking me at the same time?” Lion was a bit prickly at the Catholic comment. It has always been a point of mockery for people outside the church.

“I could ask you the same. You have quite the talent for it. Far more than I can hope to achieve.”

“Most of the time I don’t mean to.”

“I know.” Doc’s tone softened into a reassuring one, giving his side a squeeze. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have found common ground, mon coeur,” he said. “People also tend not to question when a Catholic needs to do private things, no? With Islam it works quite well.”

Lion took a deep breath, but understood. It was nothing malicious. “Thank you. I didn’t want to be the one to fuck that all up.”

It had taken years to come to a mutual understanding, let alone to find a way to deal with their mutual attraction to one another. It was a rocky, long road, but here they were. Lion hoped one day they would be exactly like Blitz and Montagne, or even just Castle and Maverick.

Lion brushed his forefinger against Doc’s hand, tentatively seeking to hold it. Their relationship was so new, so fragile, like a baby bird or sugar glass, too easy to hurt or shatter. A hundred things, even things gentle or nice, could ruin a relationship, if you looked into it. And considering their history, before they got together… where just one off hand remark would destroy a truce they had established between each other, setting them at each other's throats once again. Lion never wanted to go back to those times. He’d do anything to keep it from degrading back.

Doc immediately took hold of his hand, as if he had been waiting to do so all day, giving a loving squeeze.

Warmth flooded Lion, he felt a giant stupid grin spreading across his face. It was almost too much, as he felt pricks in his eyes, as he squeezed back. He glanced sideways at Doc, finding him gently smiling, mellow as always when he was content. He wanted nothing more than to sweep him up and kiss him fiercely, but maybe then it’d be too much. He’d settle for this for now.

After browsing a couple stalls, he remembered something. What did the relationship advice he found on that one website say? That he should always seek to compliment and let someone know how much their actions mean to him, so he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words.

“You know,” Lion said, barely able to be heard over the crowd. “I’m so glad you’re willing to hold my hand.”

“Willing? I want to,” Doc corrected, bringing it to his lips and kissing his knuckles.

Lion smile only grew wider, and he had to look away as red creeped from his ears to his cheeks now. “J’taime.”

“J’taime.”

The warm fuzzy feeling in his chest threatened to burst, helped along by with the anxiety, the pervasive fear that this was about to be ripped from him at any moment.

They grabbed something to eat and sat down on a bench. If American food was considered greasy, their fair food was simply lard on a plate, with maybe some sugar or ketchup for seasoning. They commented on this to each other, when something caught Lion’s eye. There were older women and a couple of men wearing t-shirts, that said “free mom hugs.” (the men’s shirts said ‘dad’) As implied, they hugged everyone who came up to them. Some hugs were light and quick, and some deep and heartfelt, lasting many minutes. Lion’s eyes followed one of them until he came upon a group of them, holding signs, the same message written on them.

“Is that what I think?”

“Hmm?” Doc looked up. “Ah, probably. Hold on.”

To Lion's horror, his fellow frenchman asked a nearby American who they were; the man explaining with a bright smile that they were a charity organization that helped LGBTQ+ youth, and they gave out hugs - of course -, for any who had been rejected by their families for their sexuality.

Small talk ensued, in which Lion was only half-participating in as he ate, and when the man finally left, Doc nudged his side.

“You’ve been glancing at them this whole time. Go on, go talk to them.”

“I don’t need a hug.”

Doc tsked, “That’s a lie.”

“Huh?”

“If anyone needs a hug from a father figure, it is you, no?”

“I…” Lion paused then shook his head. “No, I’m over it, I put it behind me. It happened over a decade ago, after all.”

Doc raised an eyebrow, one of his infuriatingly knowing smiles tugging at his lips.

“They are for this who were disowned for being homosexual, Gustave. I was not...”

“And your father would have accepted you being with another man? Or is it only teens getting their girlfriends pregnant that he takes moral issue with?”

Lion didn’t have an answer for him. Well he did, just not a verbal one. There were so many reasons his father wanted nothing to do with him.

“I’m over it,” he repeated, but this time with less conviction.

“Then it would be of no consequence,” Doc said, squeezing his hand. “Go on.”

It was an awkward walk to approach them. He had to remind himself he was a soldier, he had faced death multiple times, fought against some of the most dangerous people in the world and this- This was just a civilian man at a pride event. Much older than him, sure, with a kind face and beard. But he realized as his step grew increasing hesitant that it wasn’t the human he was afraid of, but his soul, and what it could do to his own with just a few brash words.

What was he even going to say? “Hey I saw your sign, my dad hates me, can I get a hug?” That was ridiculous. Maybe lean into the role this man was offering to play, “Sorry dad, I was a fuck up, I can't change?" Or… "sorry you were not capable of loving me the way I am?" Both sounded completely rude to say to a stranger.

But as he approached, the older man met his eye, and there was no need for questions, nor words. The dad only smiled at him and opened his arms.

Lion found himself in the other man’s embrace before he even realized, hugging him as if his life depended on it. The older man matched his energy, a hand on the back of his head as if Lion really was his own child. Time seemed to stretch on and on; Lion had been anticipating a quick hug, just a little taste of what he got so envious of every time he saw someone have a loving moment with their parent, but no, his body refused to let go and so did this stranger. This stranger who held onto him with a fatherly patience Lion once thought only existed in fantasy.

The lump growing in his throat ached. He tried swallowing it down, but it only made it worse.

He shouldn’t have done this. He thought he was over it, yet it hurt, it hurt so fucking much…!

He wanted to run, he wanted to stay, he wanted…

“It’s alright to cry,” the man whispered. “I got you.”

“My real father disowned me.” Lion wasn’t proud of how strangled his voice sounded, or how he let some tears escape.

“I’m so sorry, son,” the man replied, rubbing his back gently. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Nobody does.”

“I never could give him a reason to love me.”

“Children don’t need to give a reason. They’re supposed to be loved by their parents, no matter what mistakes they made, real or imagined. You deserve to be loved.”

Lion was biting the inside of his cheek, trying to will away the need to sob. This was a happy moment, a validating moment, with kind words, and warmth, why did it hurt so much then? His fingers clutched at the man’s shirt, as he gently rocked them. It didn’t feel infantilizing, it felt relieving, needed, like a hole finally being filled.

“You can cry, you know,” the man whispered again. “Emotions are made to be expressed. You don’t have to be strong, not here, not with me. I know you’re hurting, Don’t worry, I’m here.”

A choked sob escaped, and Lion pressed his face into the man's shoulder. “There you go, let it out, I’m proud of you.”

There was no coming back from that. He broke down, and it was ugly.

Lion sobbed into his arms, all rsesemblance of control disappearing, but the father held him through it all. It lasted way longer than Lion thought possible, but they eventually subsided, and he was still being held as he calmed down. When he felt strong enough to break the embrace, he was met with a gentle, fatherly smile.

“Do you feel better?”

“Oui.. yes, thank you,” he wiped his face with his own shirt. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” the manhe said. “I’m just doing what fathers were meant to do.”

“Merci.”

They talked for a little while after. About what happened with his father, his family, himself. The cynical side of him expected them to reveal their ulterior motive, asking him for charity donations, to attend a church service, or even a cult, but they didn’t offer him any flyers or business cards, just warm words... water and tissues. At least he wasn’t the first grown man to cry like this in their arms. They were genuinely good people.

Doc had been waiting patiently for him on the bench, and stood up to embrace him and kiss his cheek upon his return. “How do you feel?”

“Drained,” he said. Then he added, “Relieved. I guess you were…” he caught himself. “No, you were completely right.”

“I’m glad you went then, mon coeur.”

Lion needed a smoke. Before got to know him, Lion would have assumed the doctor was too high and mighty for a nicotine fix, but then found out he was a man in a high stress job like the rest of them, and didn’t judge. Except on the mandatory substance abuse powerpoints they all had to sit through every few months.

He lit up, drawing the smoke in and letting it mellow him out. Every so often he would think back and a few more tears would leak out.

He wiped his eyes with his thumb. “You know why I was so happy that you took my hand?”

“Non,” Doc said, rubbing his back. “But please tell me.”

“I was at the store with my mother and father,” he said. “I was just following along, and I see my mother offer her hand to hold, you know, this gesture…”

He made it. Doc patiently nodded.

“Well I was nearest to her, I think. I was so happy, I remember feeling loved, all warm, because my mama wanted to hold my hand.”

He paused, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

Lion took a deep breath. His voice shuddered, “She let go, non.. she threw my hand away from her, in utter disgust. As if I were disgusting. She snapped, ‘I don’t want your hand.’”

Lion ducked his head. “It was a small thing, yes, but it hurt, it hurt so much. Turned out she wanted my father’s hand, not her son’s, not mine.”

It was a few beats later before Doc said, “How old were you?”

“Four, maybe five,” Lion said. “I hate that feeling, those moments where you finally feel happy and loved, and the next second someone shatters it completely. Despair is a good word for it, I think.”

“How often did these types of things happen?”

“Plenty, I was a disgusting child, after all.”

“No,” Doc said. “She was just… cruel.”

Lion huffed, not a wry laugh, just disbelieving. “You’re not going to tell me that she tried her best?”

“Did she?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Then I think not,” Doc said softly, cupping Lion’s cheek. He leaned into the warmth.

"I still get this horrible… fear when I want to take someone’s hand, or show any affection. So I usually don’t.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, mon cher. And if I ever make you feel the way your mother did, I want you to tell me.”

Lion nodded, looking down, not entirely sure if he would. Doc tilted his head back up. “Hey, I mean it.”

Lion took his hand and almost went for a kiss, but the deep moment was interrupted by Blitz and Monty approaching. Lion quickly turned away so neither of the two could see his red puffy eyes, but he did see Monty was wearing a stringer tanktop, tie dyed rainbow, and adorned with rainbows in body paint and a look of subdued embarrassment any time Elias had his back turned. Blitz was going a bit overboard on this look.

“Have you seen Meghan?” Blitz said, “unless you have a bag?”

Doc pointed them into the right direction, as Lion quickly drank his water.

“Olivier, are you okay?”

“He just needs some alone time with me,” Doc saved him. Again.

The pair offered their sympathies to Lion (much to his annoyance) and wandered off to find the two women.

“Don’t you ever dress me up that garishly,” Lion snickered.

“Please, mon coeur, I have taste,” Doc said, before grabbing his knee and squeezing, voice now whispering in his ear. “Besides, I prefer you out of your clothes.”

He nipped his earlobe before Lion could exasperate out his name, earning a yelp instead.

Any semblance of protocol melted into genuine, unmasked joy just to be in each other’s company, in a welcoming space where they could be open about themselves Gustave himself was intent on kissing his lover better.

~

Finka and Valkyrie had been watching a stage performance when Blitz appeared at Valkyrie’s side, grinning, as usual, and... now covered in glitter?

“Meghan, can we borrow your purse?”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want to have to carry around Gilles’s shirt all day.”

Valkyrie turned fully to see Montagne, who had trailed in after him, no longer wearing his tasteful, understated ensemble, but had been attacked by rainbows and what looked to be the same shimmer bomb that Blitz must have been caught in.

“No, you’re going to get glitter in it,” Valkyrie frowned.

“Please? I’ll clean it out for you myself.”

“Glitter?” Finka said, turning around. “We have to ride back with your boyfriend, and you wore glitt-”

Finka must have caught sight of Montagne’s giant pecs escaping the too small, flimsy shirt, because she turned bright red and turned back to stare very intently at the performer.

All Valkyrie herself could think was ’damn Montagne is strong and it shows’, but that was it, of course. Her girlfriend however was bi, with a particular weakness for large people with muscles.

“Och, I almost forgot,” Blitz said cheekily. “You have any sunscreen? Gilles wasn’t prepared for this outfit.”

“I don’t think any of us were prepared,” Finka snipped, still keeping Montagne out of her line of sight. She pulled out a sunblock bottle from her cargo pocket and tossed it over.

“You alright there, Lera?” Blitz asked as he caught it.

“I’m fine, it's just hot,” she replied, still avoiding eye contact, “The weather, I mean.”

Blitz grinned, “He is hot, isn’t he?”

“Mon cher…” Montagne groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just…”

Meghan clapped her hands, “Okay, go away, go be gay somewhere else. We have enough that of our own over here.”

Blitz ignored her, looking at Finka with a grin, “What do you think of us getting temporary hair color? I was thinking of dyeing our hair rainbow.”

“Well, you’ve gone this far,” Finka said, pointedly staring at Blitz’s eyes. “Might as well go full golubok.”

“Hah, ja, I like the way you think, I…”

“Here,” Meghan said, grabbing Gilles’s shirt from Blitz’s hands and stuffing it into her purse. “Go dye your hair now. Go on.”

“Alright, all right.” Blitz grinned, holding up his hands and going. Montagne sighed deeply, a twitch working its way through his cheek before following. Odd, but not her problem. She had someone much more important to worry about.

“You’re into muscles, huh?”

“You know I am,” Finka said sheepishly. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Valkyrie laughed, “It’s fine, he got great boobs.” That caused Finka to snort. “You know, for a man.”

Finka laughed longer than she expected, but it was always nice when her girlfriend had one of her genuine laughs.

“It's always nice to see real muscles,” Finka said. “Real ones, from being big and strong, and healthy.”

“Oh, you mean some like mine?” She flexed, tattooed arms positively sexy as the bulged.

Finka’s eyes got a hungry glunt to them, she put her hands on Valkyrie’s arms, feeling the solidness beneath her fingers, “Yes, just like that.”

Finka kissed her girlfriend long and deep, and Valkyrie relished being able to do so in the open, without the anxiety of having some bigot laying eyes on them and causing a scene. It was annoying enough to deal with the old people (and the occasional man similarly aged man) she had never met before tsk at her for daring to have tattoos and being too buff, saying she was too pretty to mark herself up like that and ask how she was ever going to find a man looking like that. She had already broke the glass ceiling for women in something as prestigious and hardcore as the Navy fucking SEALs, but there were still so many in American society that were convinced that women existed to look pleasant to men, regardless of if said women even wanted a pet man or not.

The kiss was broken when Finka’s wristwatch timer went off, and her girlfriend quickly drank from her water bottle. It was such a practiced motion, Valkyrie wasn’t entirely convinced Lera was aware she was doing it, and it made her heart ache. When she was finished, she wrapped her arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Later they were browsing stalls, and Finka gravitated towards one that was selling pride flags and shirts, not only the standard colors for each identity group, but also the ones that represented multiple identities within the same flag. Finka fingered a nonbinary one with a heart in the bisexual colors on its center. Interesting choice.

“I’d love to see you wear one of these, babe.”

Finka smiled, but shook her head, “I don’t know…”

“Come on, I’m not trying to pull a Blitz on you, I’ll wear one with you.”

“And what am I going to do with it afterwards?”

“Keep it? We’re not in Russia, our base is in Greece, basically its own sovereign territory.”

“When you went through SEALs, there were dissenters that tried to prove your were lesbian so they could get you removed from the program, didn’t they?”

Valkyrie shrugged, “Yeah, but they failed.”

“The last thing that the Russian government wants is one of it most elite spetsnaz operatives in an international effort to be homosexual,” Finka explained. “Its not illegal, yet, but my existence could be considered ‘propaganda.’ I might not just be removed from Rainbow, or Spetsnaz, or the Russian military, I could be jailed.

“Ah.”

“You know what Russian prison is like? I might be able to survive the system if I wasn’t sick, but I am diseased. They’d deny me my medication, not let me stay hydrated or fed or exercised and I’ll...”

“Hey, hey,” Meghan said, quickly drawing Lera into a hug. “I’m sorry, it was just a silly idea.”

“I’m…” she took a deep breath then nodded. “Thank you.”

Meghan kissed her forehead, holding her hands. Lera usually had to be stressed, well, more stressed than usual, to go on such a downward spiral so quickly. Being at such a Pride event, probably, if anyone found out. Finka didn’t believe her own Rainbow Spetsnaz brothers to out her, they were too close, but it was still risky.

“The Soviet Union used to accept openly gay people, did you know that?”

Valkyrie shook her head.

“Not a lot of people do, even in Russia. It was the early years, of course, but they gave gays rights they never had before. But then, of course, the Soviets needed more bodies. Bodies for war, and bodies for work, and of course, they believed gays were the reason that their population wasn’t pumping out babies at a fast enough rate.”

“Oh.”

“It all comes down to child production, doesn’t it? You know this.”

“Unfortunately I do,” Valkyrie said. “Not even just governments but families too. When my grandma found out I was lesbian, she sobbed, crying about how she won’t have any grandbabies from my father’s line. Then she blamed my father for raising me too military, while blaming my mother for letting me compete in high level sports.” She adopted a shrill, tottering grandma voice, ‘Sports always turns girls into dykes. I wanted greatgrandbabies from every child! But you made her want to turn into a boy!”

“Blin.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“My own parents alway knew I would like girls,” she said. “Enough to be surprised and confused when I brought home boyfriends that I was genuinely happy with. They cited my, uh, how you call it, boyishness? Well, I never felt comfortable in the woman’s role and they, knowing what my siblings and I had…, they didn’t really feel a need to pressure us to do anything but stay as healthy and active as possible.”

Meghan slowly began to realize this was turning into much more than a simple sharing of stories, and squeezed her hands in support.

“I never liked being…. I don’t know how to put this. I didn’t like the gendered language used for me. And I never felt when people were talking about women, they were talking about to me as well. Just as I thought the rules and expectations boys are taught growing up applied to me as well. You know, don’t cry, be tough, treat women with respect, fight those who try to push you around. Then I learned of this new concept a couple years ago, someone could be neither. I laughed at it at first but...”

“Lera…” Valkyrie said softly, with a loving smile. “Do you want me to use they/them for you?”

Her… their eyes lit up. “Would you? I mean, I’m not sure just yet, but I would like to try them out. “Non pun intended?”

“Hmm? Oh yes,” they were positively beaming. They were so beautiful.

“Just to see. I mean, I still have to use she and her at work but, just in private.”

“Of course, babe.”

Valkyrie cupped their face and kissed them deeply.

She ended up buying Finka something, a silver bracelet in the colored stones in the nonbinary colors as the setting. Something simple and discreet yet powerful where it mattered.

~~

Montagne had texted the couples to be on their way back to the group when Blitz finally realized he wasn’t just looking like a rainbow, but rather a discontented victim of a rainbow being sick.

“What’s wrong, Schatz?”

The giant man sighed, folding his arms over his chest.

“So… there is something wrong…?”

“If it were any other day, I wouldn’t have minded, but today…”

“Where else could you do this…?”

“It is not the location, it is the look!” he gestured down at himself. “The timing of it!”

“I don’t understand… ok, ja, I can see why I might have gotten a little carried away.”

Montagne raised a glitter encrusted eyebrow.

“Ok, completely carried away.”

“Mmm.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is not the fun you were having that I have a problem with, I am used to your antics.”

Blitz went pink, and bashful. Like a puppy being scolded.

“And you know I love your antics, ge added quickly. But why of all days,” Gilles trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose, and very nearly getting glitter in his eyes.

“Because… its Pride…”

“Yes, you’ve been saying this the whole time.”

“We can go wash it all off, I’m sorry,” Elias said, crestfallen as he moved past him towards the bathrooms.

Montagne caught him around the chest with his arm just as the rest of the group returned, “Non, it's fine… its fine. Perfection is not needed.”

He saw Doc and Loon quickly fumble for their phones, thankfully behind Blitz’s back. Once they nodded, he guided Blitz back to in front of him. “These past few years I’ve known you, you’ve done nothing but make me happy. Your antics, your jokes, your dedication, your downright sweetness, even the way you tap your helmet during exercises. Even before we started seeing each other, your smile would light up my heart and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Gilles…”

Gilles sank to one knee, pulling out a shining wedding ring from his pocket.

“Will you marry me?”

Elias had clapped his hands over his mouth, unable to process this. Their group, except for the GIGN of course, were surprised and estatic. Valkyrie even exclaimed “So that’s what you French bastards were hiding.”

Blitz still hadn’t answered, his eyes shining.

“Elias?”

“Ja! Natürlich sage ich ja, du großer Dummkopf!”

“I assume that's a…”

Blitz very nearly bowled him over to give him his acceptance kiss. He lifted him up as he stood, Elias straddling his hips and swung them around, a dazzling display as the glitter caught the sunshine.

“I’m sorry I got irritated, I just wanted this to go a certain way,” he breathed when their lips parted.

“Schatz, you could have proposed to me covered in mud and sweat.”

“I know,” he said. “But I still wanted to make an effort. I wanted to do it right.”

“You did,” he said. “Look at you, covered in rainbows, just to make me happy, ja?

“Mmm,” he said as Elias lowered himself back to the ground.

Blitz understood now. Gilles was a traditional romantic after all, wanting the candlelit dinners and picnics at the parks on Sundays. He wanted that to extend to his proposal but Blitz was too excited to have silly fun to notice.

“Hey,” he said. Despite the heat they couldn’t stop embracing. “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too.”

“If you want,” he whispered. “We can still have your perfect proposal night.”

“Two proposals?”

“Ja, why not? I’ll still be excited.”

Gilles gave it a thought. “I’ll have to make things more romantic between us,” he murmured. “Just to throw you off so you don’t know when its coming.”

“Oooh,” Blitz said, draping his arms over Gilles’s shoulders. “I like the sound of that.”

They dazzled them with another sweeping, showstopping dipped kiss, because of course they did.

“I agree with Lion,” Finka laughed with a grin. “You two are disgusting.”

Blitz laughed into Gilles’s mouth, and flipped her off without looking away.

“Great, now those two set the standard for romantic proposals,” Maverick said.

“Does that mean we’re going to be competing now?” Castle said, perking up.

“I’ll win,” Valkyrie declared. “The rest of you might as well quit now..”

“Pfft, nah, man, if anyone’s winning that it's me.”

“You know, we French have romance in our blood,” Lion said. “I wouldn’t even have to try and I’d win.”

While they dissolved into bickering, the silent ones of their pairs all shared a look, realizing at once what their partners had implied.

Blitz and Monty still had yet to look up from their glitter makeout, oblivious to what they had just started.

#rainbow #rainbow 6 seige #rainbow 6 #dualrainbow #montagne #blitz #Valkyrie #finka #lion #doc #lion/doc #finka/Valkyrie #monty/blitz #gay #nonbinary #coming out #pride #lgbtq #lesbian #bi

[creepycatboyz]

"Scary Monsters" Marble Hornets Tim/Brian Fanfiction

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33361528/chapters/83235640

Chapter 2: Reunited at once

Ever since he was free from the grasp of the Operator, he could properly breathe out and not having the feeling of being watched. He yearned for this feeling for years. Medication helped, but he could never shrug off the slight feeling of being watched. He absolutely hated it, as he loved to keep his privacy. He had gotten sick and tired of Jay coming back to dig through the stuff of Marble Hornets, he just wanted to forget that, especially after his best friend has gone missing after Alex and him went to film a scene.

After everything had progressively gotten worse, the lack of medication he had to fend off the Operator with, he had enough. Someone in a beige-yellow hoodie, with a badly sewed on frowny face, has been stealing his medication, and that pissed him off so bad. Tim needs them, not this random person. Eventually he confronted the person, ran after them and surely accidently killed them. He's still not over this, he goddamn killed someone! Was it technically self-defense? Probably not. At least he could've called an ambulance, but he just left with the stolen pills they left in their pocket.

It's been a month, since he packed up the little things he had and left as far as he could. A relative of his offered him a relatively big cabin, where he can stay so he can settle down and calmly search for a job. He told this member the least amount of information, as he didn't want to freak them out or call him crazy.

Smoking a cigarette, this habit having never left his mind, he calmy gazed at the surrounding trees of his cabin. He's not completely engulfed in the woods, but it would be slightly hard to find the way if you don't know it. Which Tim appreciates, as he doesn't really want to talk to people, or be disturbed while he's doing his own thing. He likes his privacy, especially after he had no feeling of being watched. Usually he would be staying as far as possible from forests, as it always reminds him of the operator, but now he grew quite fond of the nature around him. He loves to watch birds pick berries from the nearby berry bushes, sometimes other small animals run around in the evening trying to find something to eat. At times he leaves out some food, a little bit further away from his cabin so they won't come back, to feed the animals around here. If he can't currently take care of a dog, he can at least fed the wild animals around here. He still kept his old phone number, as first off, he only gave it to Brian and Jessica, but never the others. He rarely talked to them outside of filming anyways, and honestly, he doesn't want them to contact him. He's done with the Operator, done with these scary monsters that should stay childhood fears.

The calm moments that were just now, were interrupted by a loud ring from his quite old phone. It looks a bit broken, but it still does his job! He lazily threw the cigarette he was smoking on the floor and crushed it with his shoe. Curiously he walked over to his phone and answered the call.

"Hello?", his voice a bit hoarse, due to smoking just a moment ago. "This is Dove's care hospital, am I speaking to Timothy Wright?", a female voice from the other end came. He grimaced at hearing his first name but soon thought to himself: 'A hospital? Why would a hospital call me from all the other possbilities?' "Yeah, this is Tim, is there something wrong?", he asked, confused on why he was even called in the first place. "A certain Brian Thomas had you on his contacts, in case something happened to him. His family was also on the list, but we couldn't reach them." Hearing his best friends' name his heart dropped, he couldn't even believe it. His lips let out a small whimper before he tried to compose himself. "I- Uh.. I will get there. It'll take some hours 'til I get there though. Around 5 hours", as he was saying that he already began to pack up some money, pills, snacks and spare clothes. The receptionist noted that down and told him Brian is in a stable situation, but has no memory on what had happened. As soon as he heard which room he was in he said goodbye and immediately hung up. He rushed to lock his door leaving immediately.

Right as he got in his car he couldn't even properly focus on the road, due to him being so overwhelmed with emotions. He for real thought his friend was gone! He hasn't heard from him for ages and he only noticed it was off ever since he moved out after Jay tried to dig through the old recordings. He secretely saved the old tapes, Jay posted, of him and Brian, those are the only recent memories he even had of him. Childhood memories of course stayed, but with those memories he also has to look back to the Operator, who tormented him since he was little. While he was driving, he was trying so hard not to cry, mostly due to happiness, he missed him so much. He wished he noticed sooner, but he was completely trying to forget everything, anything to get away from the monster. The amount of happiness overshadowed the dread he was feeling driving closer to Tuscaloosa, his hometown, where all the trouble happened.

Arriving in Tuscaloosa gave him this familiar feeling of being watched. If the Operator felt any joy, he would be feeling it right now, seeing his victim return once again. He won't give him the satisfaction, as he swallowed the pills he had taken with him. The closer he drove to the hospital, the gaze of the Operator started to fade away and he let out a sigh of relief. He wants to get Brian out of this hellhole, where both of them can be safe, from the monster and Alex. He didn't mind Alex if he's honest, he seemed pretty neat, but after the filming of Marble Hornets, he just started acting weird. The Operator can sure do a lot of damage to people, Tim himself is a example for that, but he's slowly getting better. He hopes Alex can also get the help, but he doubts it, as Alex went as far as to attempt murder.

He parked near the hospital and as soon as he stepped out of the car, he felt nervous. What should he even say to Brian? Oh hi, I didn't realize you were missing, because my brain was in constant fear due to some tall thin monster with no face? Yeah, that sure will be believable. He shook his head and made his way towards the hospital. As he entered he went to the reception and told them he's visiting Brian Thomas as he was on his contacts if something ever happened to him. Tim already knew which room he was in as he kept repeating it on the way there in his head, but he wanted to make sure and let the receptionist know that he arrived.

Room 52. He anxiously glanced in the direction of the hall where the numbers from 50 til 60 were. He composed himself and made his way to number 52. He can do this, it's just his best friend, well he hopes they still are. Oh god, what if they aren't anymore? He still cares about him so much. As he stood in front of the door, it took him some moments to gain the courage to knock twice.

A faint 'yeah' could be heard from inside the room and he immediately started to panic. He tried to shake off the feeling, which took a bit longer than he wanted. After having his usual calm expression, he opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind him quietly. What he saw beforehim, was a Brian bandaged up everywhere where he could see him and a cast on his left arm. Confused on how he even got hurt that badly, he was speechless. His friend had a tired expression, but still the warm smile he always had. "Hey Tim, how's it goin'?", Brian spoke, his voice clear, yet a bit quiet and hoarse.

Tim walked closer to him and took a seat on the chair on Brian's right side. "Quite good actually unlike you", he teased and glanced at his bandaged up body and arm. The light haired male rolled his eyes, but still had a grin on his face. "Yeah, no clue what happened. One day I was filming with Alex for Marble Hornets, which is still a stupid name, and ta-da next thing I know I woke up in a hospital. Amnesia I guess?", he chuckled, resting his head on the hospital pillow. "Probably the meds, or you hit your head bad", the darker haired man suggested. Brian shrugged with his right shoulder, as he couldn't with his other.

"I was actually in a coma for around a month, just woke up 2 days ago, I was barely awake though. They tried to call my family, but that didn't work, so today they called you", he explained and he sounded happy about the fact that they called Tim. "I'm glad you came" The smile his best friend gave him, made his heart simply melt, he had a slight tooth gap, which he always thought was pretty adorable. "I missed you dude, I had no clue that something had happened, I wish I knew sooner", that made Tim frown, as he wished he could've been there for his friend, but he just moved away, leaving everything behind, even his best friend.

Brian chuckled and shook his head. "It's alright, you showing up is enough for me" That made Tim smile, and he leaned back into the chair. For a few moments there was an awkward silence between the two, just being in eachother's presence was enough for both of them. The thought of the Operator crept up in the dark haired man and he had to break the silence. "So, when are they going to release you?", he asked, looking at his friend. Brian thought for a moment and scratched his chin, which had a unkept beard. "Uh, maybe two weeks? At most, I would have to do check-ups at the doc though", with that he just shrugged with his one shoulder.

Okay Tim, now you have to ask him if he wants to live with you, that doesn't sound weird, but how will he explain the reason why? Brian doesn't believe in this Operator nonsense, he hasn't been affected by it, at least he couldn't tell.

"I- This is gonna sound weird and it will probably make no sense to you, but do you want to move together with me?", the best way for Tim to ask Brian is just talking to him directly. Brian stared at him for a moment and furrowed his brows, but then grinned. "I mean, it would be refreshing to finally live outside Tuscaloosa, so I wouldn't mind, I'd have to get my old stuff though" He stopped and his eyes widen, he immediately tried to sit right up, making him only groan in pain. Even that didn't stop his panicked talking. "Oh god, I hope they didn't kick me out! I haven't paid rent, in like what? 2 months!"

Oh shoot, Brian has been missing for more than 2 months, at least 6 months? Hell, he himself can't even remember. Trying to calm him down he placed his hand on his healthy shoulder rubbing it gently "Slow down, tiger, how about I check your place out and discuss it with your landlord?" The light brown haired man took calm breaths and nodded. "I should probably call them too, seems more personal" Tim thought for a moment if this was a good idea, probably? Then they would get the amount of months he had been missing... Brian would be hella confused though. "My phone's over there", while he said that he pointed towards a table with his belongings they found him with.

Tim nodded, standing up and walking towards the phone only to realize it has been completely thrashed, as if it fallen out of his pocket as he tripped or something. He inspected the phone and awkwardly turned to Brian, who was watching him in anticipation. "Your phone is completely thrashed man", that's the only thing he could say, holding up the phone that doesn't even turn on, with a completely shattered screen. Brian's face immediately became a frown. "Uhh, well. Shit, I also don't know her phone number. My brain is a complete mess..." Tim smiled and walked over to him ruffling his already messy hair, which made the other man pount slightly. "I'll just drive by there and tell the situation, m'kay? And what if I bring you some good lunch after I am done, so you can finally eat some proper food?" At the mention of food, Brian immediately got excited. "I've only been awake for a few days, but these meals are a real pain. You're the best, dude", he grinned widely.

With that, Tim made his way towards Brian's old apartment, trying to find his landlady. Brian mentioned her name being Margaret something and she was really sweet. He walked around the complex and saw her name on one of the name cards on where to ring. What he didn't expect is for an old lady to open the door, huh, the worst she could do to Brian is pinch his cheeks to death he guessed. He always hated his cheeks getting pinched when they visited his grandparents, he would get very annoyed and his cheeks would be red. "Hello, are you Margaret, the landlady?", he asked, looking at her. She nodded and smiled. "Ah, yes, I am the owner of this apartment complex. Is there something you need?" Her smile was warm and welcoming, she looked like a kind soul. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah, it's about a friend of mine, he rented an apartment here? Brian Thomas, tall, lanky, brown blondish hair?" he asked. At the mention of his name and then the further description her eyebrows raised. "Mr Thomas... I haven't seen him quite a while. He also hasn't been paying rent for the last... eight months or so? Is he alright?" He expected her to be angy, but he was only met with a look of concern.

Tim scratched the back of his neck. "Well, he was in a coma for a month or so and I came to visit him today, because family couldn't. I have no clue what happened to him, but he's very sorry for not being able to pay rent" The old lady scoffed and shook her head. "Tell that boy he shouldn't worry. His furniture is still in his apartment and he can still live here, but with rent. He doesn't have to pay it back, but he should properly take care of himself!" he nodded, paying close attention to every word she's saying. "I'll take care of him, as me and him will move together out of state..." As soon as those lips left his mouth, she started to talk. "Do you want me to call a move truck? My son has one, and he would be glad to help"

The dark haired man just blinked for a few moments and nodded. "Uh, sure? How much would that be, I have some spare money", he chuckled slightly. "Oh, you could fetch me some groceries from the store that is all" Well, he really struck gold with this lady, she's so nice even though, Brian hasn't paid rent in a long time. Surely they had a really good friendship, if she's so worried about him. Tim nodded and asked for the shopping list, which he got. She even wanted to give him the money for the groceries, but he avoided that, persisting that he will pay that out of his own pocket as it isn't too much. He thanked her and told her he will be back soon enough and left to get the groceries and some good food for Brian and him, as he hasn't eaten anything since he came to Tuscaloosa.

Back at the hospital, after delivering the groceries to the old lady, he handed over Brian a turkey sandwich with a sunkist soda. "You still remember my favorite sandwich and drink?", his eyes shined as he unpacked the sandwich with his one hand, immediately munching on it. He opened the can for him, which gained him a grin from his best friend. He also sat down on the chair on his right side, eating his own sandwich, which had tuna. How fast Brian was able to eat, still baffled Tim, he devoured the sandwich in less than one minute. "That was good", was the only thing Brian said, sipping on his sunkist. For the rest of the afternoon, they talked about various things, but mostly enjoyed eachothers presence. After it started to become slightly dark, Tim said goodbye, going to arrange the moving truck and all the other stuff, so everything is ready, when he's released from the hospital

#marble hornets #fanfiction #marble hornets fanfiction #tim x brian #masky #brian thomas #tim wright

[aquietwritingcorner]

Writers Month Day 13: Night/Flowershop/tattooshop AU Word Count: 4236 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: G/K Characters: Vato Falman, Olivier Mira Armstrong, Major Miles, Captain Buccaneer, Doc, Neil Warning: NA Summary: Vato Falman works at a quiet, little (run-down) flowershop next to a tattoo parlor. He never expected to nor wanted to meet the owners of said tattoo parlor. But typically whatever Falman doesn’t want is exactly what he gets. Notes: Because if this was going to happen to anyone, it would happen to Falman! AO3 || ff.net

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 Night/Flowershop/Tattoshop AU

 When Vato Falman took the job at North City Flowers, it was with a few understandings. One, he wouldn’t bore the customers with talk of what the flowers mean. Two, he would have to work nights sometimes. Three, he wouldn’t have to interact with the proprietors or customers of the tattoo parlor. Four, this job was in a run-down part of town and awful, so he would be surreptitiously looking for another job in the meantime.

North City Flowers was located in a part of the city (not named North City, ironically enough. Apparently, it had been part of a failed chain of flower shops from North City, and no one had ever bothered to change the name) that was not considered the best part of town. During the day people watched themselves closely. During the night people scurried from place to place as quickly as they could, and only if they had to go out—which few people ever wanted to. In fact, Falman had been certain that he was going to be jumped in the first few weeks of work.

It wouldn’t be too bad, if his boss would just pitch in. His boss was a greasy looking man who clearly didn’t want to be here nights either. Every day before the sun set, he’d make sure Falman was there, take most of the money from the register, and leave. Falman, no matter how much he didn’t want to, was left pretty much every night to finish the day, clean up, and lock up. He didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like he could quit. If he didn’t need this job, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.

Next door to North City Flowers was the Briggs Tattoo Parlor. Falman had never been inside and had no plans to. He had seen the owners, though. A big, strong man who looked like he could crush Vato just by thinking about it; a tall, Ishvalan man, who seemed unreadable; and the beautiful, blonde woman whose glance looked and felt like ice. They were each terrifying on their own, but together they were more so. Sometimes another woman was there, with short hair and glasses, and while she looked friendlier, she didn’t look like someone to cross either. Falman had no idea what to make of the guy with the cigarette and the loud shirts that often came, usually with grease somewhere on him. The clientele wasn’t much better. Most consisted of a lot of men who looked like they were not people to cross—and Falman had no intentions of doing so.

(They didn’t seem to accept just anyone, though. He had watched them kick out a man dressed in a white suit once, in a very rough fight. There had been a lot of shouting, but he had decided that he was probably better off in the back, and so hid there for a bit, supposedly cleaning it up.)

The Briggs Tattoo Parlor seemed to do a lot of work at night. In the evenings, when Falman was cleaning up, he often heard loud thumps coming from the other side of the wall, and yelling. Sometimes there was music as well. Falman had no idea what was going on over there, but he had decided long ago it was in his best interests not to find out.

And so, Falman lived out his workdays like this. Helping customers pick out bouquets that sent the wrong message, staying late at night in the shop, searching for another job, and avoiding the Briggs crew next door.

Until tonight.

The night started out like any other. He helped the customers, his boss took the money, and Falman was left to clean and close up. The days were getting shorter, which meant it got dark quite a bit earlier. Falman always tried to clean up as quickly as he could, figuring that the less time spent here at night the better, but today had been busy, and there was quite a mess in the back room. It took him a few hours to clean it all up, and by the time he did, it was already much later than he wanted it to be.

With a put-upon sigh, Falman gathered up the garbage, tied it up, and headed out the back to throw it away. There was a dumpster in the alley behind this row of shops, and he headed out to it, moving quickly, hoping to not draw any trouble.

This meant, of course, that he did.

He was just past the back of the Briggs Tattoo Parlor when out of nowhere he was grabbed, pushed up against a wall, and a knife pressed to his throat.

“Gimme all your money,” a voice sneered in his ear.

Falman paled. “I-I-I don’t have any!” he stammered out.

“Don’t gimmie that crap,” the man said. “Gimmie your wallet.”

“I don’t—I left it in the shop!” Falman said.

“Yeah? Then let’s go back to the shop and get it and whatever money is there, flower boy.”

Falman paled more. Either this man saw him coming out of the shop, or he had been casing it out for a few days, at least. “Th-there’s nothing there! My boss—he takes the money when he leaves!”

The pressure on Falman increased and the knife pressed harder on his neck. “I think you’re just making excuses,” the man growled. “Guess I gotta show you I’m serious!”

Before Falman could even start to panic to that, the man was suddenly gone, pulled back with a squawk. Falman, startled, turned to look.

The big man from the tattoo shop had Falman’s assailant by the collar, pulling him back and up. “What do we have here?” he asked.

The Ishvalan man stepped up. “It looks like we caught a thief.” His face was impassive, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Falman wondered how he saw with the night this dark.

“I’d say so too,” the big man said, giving the thief a shake. The man tried to protest, but the big man brought him closer. “Bold of him to try on our turf.”

“Perhaps we should take him inside,” the Ishvalan said. “We can let her deal with him.”

Falman saw real fear break out on the thief’s face. “No!” He still had his knife and brought it up quickly. The big man didn’t let go but intercepted it with his other arm. Falman cringed at that, but the man didn’t seem to even notice. He just grinned a feral grin.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he said.

The thief looked thoroughly freaked out, and the Ishvalan took a step closer and jerked the thief’s jacket down, looking at something on his arm. He slid his glasses off to reveal his piercing, hard, red eyes.

“Tell your bosses not to come near Briggs again. This is our territory, and we protect it. Understand?”

The thief nodded, and the big man let him go. The thief scrambled back and away from them, and towards the edge of the alley. The two had already started turning around, when the thief apparently gained one more moment of courage. Falman saw him reach into his belt and pull something out. His eyes widened as he realized it was another knife, and he was about to rush the two men.

“Look out!” Falman called out and, quite without thinking about it, flung the garbage bag full of flower stems and leaves and various other plant-parts that he still somehow had in his hand, right at the thief. The thief saw it coming and ducked, just in time for it to hit a man that was coming up behind him and knock him to the ground mid-stride The thief cursed and scrambled away, leaving the four other men in the alley.

“What the—what was that all about?” The man who had been knocked down was the one with the loud shirts that came to the tattoo parlor. He was sitting up, pushing the bag of trash off of him. “Why did I just get smacked in the face with a garbage bag?”

“Nice save,” the big man said to Falman. “Thanks.”

“Are you alright?” the Ishvlan asked him.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” the man in the loud shirt said. The other two ignored him.

“I…um… yes?” Falman said.

The two men glanced at each other. “Why don’t we get you back inside,” the Ishvalan said. “Buc—”

“Yeah, yeah, I got Neil,” the big man said.

Falman, still quite shaken up, just nodded, and followed the Ishvalan. He only realized that he hadn’t meant the flowershop when he opened up the door to the tattoo parlor. Falman, not sure what else to do, entered nervously.

It was a surprisingly clean and well-organized back room, well-lit and seeming quite pleasant. The Ishvalan man escorted him through it, and into the main room. It was well lit, with several chairs that looked like they could fold down into beds each contained in a small cubicle like area with tools and equipment, and lots and lots of art and examples of tattoos hanging on the wall.

The blonde woman sat in one of the chairs, while talking to the short haired lady that sometimes came by, who was sitting on a couch in the waiting area. Both looked up at the entrance, and both frowned at Falman. He broke out in another sweat.

“What’s this?” the blonde woman said. “Miles?”

“We ran into a little trouble out back,” he said. “Buccaneer’s collecting Neil.”

“Was he hurt?” the short haired woman asked.

The Ishvalan—Miles, apparently—shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He nodded his head at Falman. “He threw a garbage bag and hit Neil in the face and knocked him down.”

The blonde woman raised an eyebrow and looked at him. Falman thought he might pass out. “He did what?” she asked.

Falman parted his lips, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. “I didn’t mean to” and “it was an accident” didn’t seem like they’d be acceptable to this woman.

“Actually,” Miles said. “It was in defense of us.” The woman clearly wanted more, so he continued. “On our way back from getting Neil, we saw this man getting robbed in the back alley. We stepped in and stopped it, and, after a warning message to take back to his bosses, we let him go. He apparently didn’t give up, though, and must have done something. This man yelled a warning at us and threw the bag of garbage he had. The robber ducked, and Neil happened around the corner at the time. It smacked him in the face instead.”

“Kid had a knife,” the big man—Buccaneer, Falman guessed--said, coming in with the man Falman presumed to be Neil. “And was trying to turn back on us. At least, that’s what the shop across the street says.” He looked over at Falman. “He saved us some trouble, it seems.”

“He stabbed you in the arm!” Falman blurted out and was a bit embarrassed that it was the first thing he said.

Both women looked at him alarmed, and the short haired one rose from the couch to hurry over to him, taking his arm—the wrong arm, Falman noted, and wondered why she had picked that one.

“Aw, Doc, you don’t have to worry,” Buccaneer said. “It wasn’t that arm.”

“Wait—your other arm got stabbed? Let me see,” Neil demanded.

“It’s fine. If it can’t hold up to that—” Buccaneer started.

“Let me see anyway,” Neil insisted.

“You had better have him look, just in case,” the blonde woman said.

Buccaneer sighed, but let himself be guided over to a chair, shedding his coat on the way. Falman blinked in surprise when an automail arm was revealed. That certainly explained a lot.

“You,” Falman jumped when the woman addressed him. “Let Doc look over you as well.”

“Oh—no, I’m, um, I’m fine, really, and I, um—”

“Uh-uh,” the other woman, Doc, said, and gently bullied him into a chair. “Let me check you over, free of charge!” she said with a grin.

“Do you usually charge?” Falman asked.

“When I’m at the clinic I do. Gotta make a living somehow. And usually whenever I’m called over here.”

Falman wondered how often that was, but he was distracted by the sound of Miles and the woman talking.

“—had a Drachma tattoo, General.”

“They’re getting bold. We’re going to have to prove it to them again.”

“I know.”

“General?” Falman murmured under his breath.

Doc must have heard him, because she responded. “Yep. That’s what she’s called around here. But that’s because she’s earned it, to be honest.”

Falman wasn’t sure what to make of that, so he said nothing.

The woman—Doc was all he learned of her name—was quick and efficient, and told him that he wouldn’t have anything to worry about, except maybe some residual soreness. He was taken from there back out into the waiting area of the tattoo parlor, where the others had gathered and some sort of drink was being passed around. He felt it would be rude to refuse, so he took a cup and, after he finished it and thanked them for helping him again, he went back to the flower shop to finish locking up. Buccaneer went with him, just in case, and asked Falman some questions about the shop and the flowers while Falman worked. He seemed genuinely interested in learning about the flowers, and Falman gladly shared his information. Not long afterwards, he locked up and headed home, bidding a farewell and thanks to Buccaneer.

The next day Falman said nothing to his boss, and his boss didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. But, on one of his breaks, Falman used what flowers he could to make a bouquet of thanks and delivered it next door. The general was busy with a customer, but Miles took them and put them in a vase where they could be seen.

After that, odd things began happening. There was an uptick in traffic in the flowershop. Men were coming in for various bouquets, usually wanting Falman to fulfill their order. More than once Buccaneer dropped by with some lunch for Falman, or Miles with some coffee. After the General dropped in, they received a few orders from some fairly well-off individuals.

Odd things also were happening with Falman. He usually waved to the Briggs artists, but he somehow often found himself over there at night, hanging out with them after he had locked up. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but it did. He learned that the Briggs Crew—as they called themselves—kept watch over this neighborhood. They weren’t quite a gang in the traditional sense, but they did keep a group called Drachma out of the place. Drachma wasn’t happy about it, but facing down the General wasn’t a good idea, it seemed. Most of the stores and businesses around either knew about this and were grateful, or, as Falman had been, had no idea. The Briggs Crew didn’t care either way. All they wanted to do was keep their area safe.

The crew seemed to consist of the tattoo artists, the doctors and nurses from Doc’s clinic, the mechanic shop across the street, the automail shop next door to the mechanic’s shop, A restaurant called “the cafeteria” that served awful food but somehow stayed in business, an electronics repair shop, a delivery service, a gym that had some pretty intense training, and several individuals who’s places of work weren’t affiliated in any way.

And somehow, for some reason, Falman had been adopted into them. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be, and wasn’t even sure it was a good thing, if he were honest with himself. But they seemed like decent people who just wanted to keep their neighborhood safe, so he went along with it.

It wasn’t until some months later that he had to prove his loyalty.

Falman was on his way home one night when it happened. He was walking down the sidewalk, nearing the edge of the neighborhood when he thought he heard voices. Not wanting to deal with a confrontation, he slowed, and listened in.

“—can’t let her keep bullying us around like this.”

“Yeah. The boss said we’re gonna make a move. Specifically, on her.”

“On the General herself?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s pretty bold. What’s the plan?”

“We cased it out. She usually sends her two right hands home before she goes. That Ishvalan, he heads out sooner, and the bear, he usually sticks around. But about once a month he leaves a little earlier. She’s alone then.”

“Not totally. Someone usually comes by.”.

“Right. That’s why we’re part of the distraction.”

“Distraction?”

“Yeah. All over. It’ll stop anyone from getting there. And that’s when she gets taken out. She’s gone, and then it either all falls apart, or they go crazy and end up getting arrested.”

There were murmurs from the group, and Falman, who had stopped, slowly began to back away. Unfortunately, he was so caught up in what he had just heard that he neglected to see the garbage can behind him and ran into it. It fell with a clatter, and Falman froze, his eyes widening. He could hear the talking stop and then—

“Hey! Who’s there?”

“Ice ‘em!”

Falman bolted.

Falman liked to think of himself as being fairly in shape. He wasn’t going to win any contests or anything, but he could hold his own, generally speaking. But with his slim physique and prematurely gray hair, most people underestimated him, which he was fine with. He didn’t usually set out to impress. However, tonight he wished he were in better shape, and he could only hope that he was underestimated. Shouts followed him, and he was half sure he saw a couple of guns being pulled out. He veered into a side road, heard shots, and knew he was right.

Heart pounding, Falman zigzagged between the streets and alleys, hoping to lose his pursuers. It and out and around he went, until he finally found a hidden area to duck into. He hid there a moment, breathing hard, trying to catch his breath.

He had to tell them. He had to let them know. He had to make sure that the Briggs Crew knew a set up was coming for the General, a plot to kill her.

But… was he brave enough?

He hadn’t meant to be involved in this in the first place. He could just walk away, call the police, let them deal with it. He could have nothing to do with this, just like he should have since the beginning.

But the whole reason the Briggs Crew was a thing was because the police weren’t doing their jobs. The police wouldn’t interfere. And could Falman really walk away knowing about a plot to kill someone and not doing anything about it?

No. No, he couldn’t.

His breathing had calmed, and he was less winded than before. Looking around carefully he slipped out of his hiding place. He had to go back to the tattoo parlor and warn them.

“Hey, Flowerman.”

A voice from behind him spooked Falman, and he whirled around. A man stood there, not far from him, knife in hand and smiling at him. It took Falman a moment to place him as the guy who had tried to mug him a few months back. Falman took a nervous step back.

“Remember me?” the man said. “I think it’s time I got that money from you.”

The man lunged at him, but Falman jumped back, putting himself out of the man’s reach. The man lunged again, and Falman retreated once more. He glanced back behind himself nervously. There was another exit to this alleyway, but it was covered in junk and trash. Still, it might be his only escape. The man lunged again, and Falman backed up once more. Again and again, until Falman was close enough to the trash that was piled up—parts of boxes and crates and full trash bags—that he could feel how unsteady the whole pile was.

Which, actually, gave him an idea.

It was a terrible idea, but it was an idea.

The man lunged again, and Falman had no where to go but forward. He twisted his body so that, hopefully, he could avoid the knife, or at least avoid the worst of it, but he pulled on the stacked garbage as he did, yanking it hard and bringing it crashing down on the man. He wasn’t sure exactly what he felt in his side—could be the knife, could be some debris—but he wasn’t about to let that slow him down. He pulled himself out of the edge of the pile of trash, put a hand to his side, and sped on as fast as he could manage. He ducked in and out of alleyways, doors, and any place he could hide, until he finally was throwing himself against the front door of the tattoo shop. Startled heads whipped up to see him. He was relieved to see that both Miles and Buccaneer were still here, and his relief made his knees week. Miles opened the door, practically catching Falman in his arms.

“Falman?” both the General and Buccaneer were looking at him alarmed. “Buccaneer, go get Doc!” she ordered.

“No!” Falman gasped out. “No, wait! I have to tell you—” He paused as he tried to catch his breath the concern of the three didn’t fade. “I heard… heard a plot… they’re gonna wait for a night when you’re alone, General. Then they’re… they’re going to cause disruptions and keep you alone… and then they’ll kill you. Drachma that is. I heard it!”

He still hadn’t gotten his breath back yet, and his knees felt like they were growing weaker. Was the fading adrenaline affecting him that much?

“Had to tell you…”

“Alright, easy, cub,” Buccaneer said, easing towards him. “You told us. We’ll be prepared. Now let us take care of you.”

“Huh?” Falman looked down, and suddenly realized that it might not be relief that was making him weak at the knees. It might be blood loss. “…Oh.” He suddenly felt very weak and felt himself slipping more towards the floor.

“Buccaneer. Pick him up. We’ve got to get him to Doc now,” The General said. “Miles, after we get him there, start the alert. No one is to go anywhere alone. Be on the lookout. Use our contacts.”

Miles nodded. “Right, General.”

Buccaneer came over and took a hold of Falman, lifting him up. Once he was secured, the four of them set on their way to Doc’s which wasn’t busy this time of night. As they moved, the General looked over at him.

“Thank you,” she said.

Falman didn’t have time to say more before they were heading into Doc’s clinic, and she was taking over, issuing orders and clearing people away. Falman actually wasn’t that sure of how long he was under her care, but Doc fussed at him about how even shallow stab wounds could kill and needed to be treated properly even as she cleaned him up, stitched him up, and laid him back with a unit of blood. She left him resting with the remote to a small TV in the corner. He had spent about thirty minutes in there when the door opened again. Falman looked over at it.

The General walked in a book in her hands and a stern look on her face. Falman looked at her nervously.

“You risked your life for me tonight,” she said without preamble.

“I, uh, I think they were going to kill me either way,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You could have gone to the police.” She pointed out.

Falman shook his head. “They wouldn’t have done anything about it. There’s a reason they’re not here much.”

She nodded, “You’re right. Still, you risked your life tonight for mine—and for all of Briggs. That isn’t something I take lightly.” She put the book on his lap, and Falman had the distinct impression that, if it hadn’t been for Doc, she would have thrown it at him. “You’ve proved yourself,” she said. “When you find one you want, it’s free of charge and by my hand.”

Curious, Falman abandoned the remote and opened the book. It was a sample of dozens of different kinds of bear paw tattoos. He blinked at it, then looked back up at her.

“If I do this, does this mean I’m part of a gang?”

She laughed. “No more or less than a biker gang.” He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not. “Pick one or don’t—it’s of little consequence to me. But just know, you’re in. You’re Briggs.”

With that she turned and walked out of the small room, leaving Falman there with the book. He looked down at it. How had he, a man who worked in a flower shop, ended up involved in all of this?

Well, there was no turning back now.

Grinning to himself, Falman opened the book to pick out his bear paw tattoo.

#writersmonth2021 #Vato Falman #Olivier Mira Armstrong #Major Miles #captain buccaneer #Briggs doc #Neil (Briggs) #fma #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma fanfic #fullmetal alchemist fan fiction

[achliegh]

Positive

Thank you to: @walking-crisis, @clearsuitcasecookienerd, @blingywitch, @waltzintherain, and @moonofthenight, @onlydreamofmysoul (If I missed anyone who answered my asks please let me know! I know some haven’t answered yet but I am hoping they will)

TW/CW: High school bullies, Coming out to homophobic family, Slurs, Homophobic languages and attitudes, mentions of sex, and pregnancy, teen pregnancy, probably food and drink. Oh! And cigarettes and underage drinking.

Chapter 3

The Beginning

January 2016

“I feel like shit.” Indigo was laying on the couch with a cold cloth on her head, wearing Leo’s new Dallas Star sweatshirt and her shorts she showed up in a month ago. They hadn’t been about to grab much from when they snuck back in through Peri’s window. She left him a note under his pillow because he has this weird habit of flipping his pillow every night before he goes to bed. It just said she was safe and if he ever needed a way out to call Leo’s house.

She has been feeling like absolute shit these last few weeks, headaches are constant, she can’t keep a lot down, her and Leo are sharing a bed because he is such a fucking worry wart and it is just to warm. She only gained like four pounds in the last couple months and she was already sure she was showing, even if Leo and his parents didn’t see it. She always got so anxious before going to school, they didn’t know what to tell the coach except that Indigo had gotten sick with something and is still going through testing so she can’t practice. Which… wasn’t wrong per say. It did bring more attention her way.

Leo and her had a talk the other night about how many people should know, obviously their parents. The doctors would have to know, but they didn’t want anyone else to know. Especially because Leo’s parents hadn't even told the world they had Leo yet. So, the baby had to be secret.

“I know you feel like shit, here.” He hands her a glass of water and a rice Krispy bar, they have been her favorite snack for as long as she can remember. She takes them from him, sitting up to take a big gulp of water. Setting the glass on the side table she starts messing with Leo’s hair as he sat on the ground near her knees. Eating her treat she twists his curls around her finger absentmindedly. Comfortable silence falls between them as Leo works on his homework.

“I hope this thing has hair like you. It’s so curly.” She finishes her snack and starts making a couple of tiny braids in his hair.

“Hmmm, I bet they will have your hair color though. I hope they have your skin tone. It’s beautiful.” He feels her fingers stop in his hair and he looks up at her. Her brows are furrowed and she appears to be thinking which is a rarity these days.

“I don’t want them to… I don’t want them to face all the stares and shit thrown at me because I'm Hispanic. I don’t want them to have to be afraid like I am sometimes.” Her hands fall into her lap, glaring at her hands.

“I know I can’t protect them or you forever, but I will for as long as I can. People are shit and we both know this… and I’m not saying this to feed my hero complex you say I have. I never want to see anything happen to you because of someone thinking skin color means separation. I’d separate their skin from their body if they laid a finger on you or our kid. But I also have seen you try to fight an old man before so I know you can hold your own.”

“OH MY GOD! I threaten a racist old man once and you will never let me live it down!” she flops back down on the sofa dramatically, pouting and kicking Leo in the back of the head lightly. “I should go change, we have an ultrasound in like an hour.” Leo hums in agreement with her, she gets up with minimal grumbling and goes to change. Leo can’t help but watch her to make sure she get up the stairs safely.

He sits there for a moment swallowing the absolute guilt he feels for this whole situation. Every time she throws up, it feels like he should take the sickness away from her and put it on himself. He feels awful about this even if it wasn’t his decision to go through with the pregnancy, he still feels like this is all his fault. Sighing her closes his homework knowing he isn’t gonna be able to focus on it anymore.

He stands up and goes out to the sun porch outside of the kitchen, pulling out his cigarettes and lights. He decides to take the edge off. He has been smoking a lot less because he can’t smoke around Indigo, and her having to stop cold turkey has really affected her. Taking his time to finish his first and then second cig he puts the second one out on the sole of his shoe. Walking back in the house he finds Indigo back on the couch in her normal doc appointment outfit. Leggings and a loose t-shirt. If he wasn’t a raging homosexual he probably would have found her cute, but instead he just found her endearing.

“Ready?” She looks up at him as she slaps her hair up in a ponytail. They make their way to the doctors office, everything is going smoothly. Indigo’s weight is healthy so is pretty much everything about her, but when it comes to the ultrasound things get a little weird.

Leo is starting to get nervous, the doctor is staring at the screen of the ultra sound having not turned it towards the two teens yet. Indigo was squeezing his hand and watching the littlE wand thing being moved around her stomach. They never had to wait this long to see the screen before and it put them both on edge.

“So, this is going to be a very hard pregnancy with your body type I’m afraid.” The doctor looks at them and is met by one terrified and one confused look. “Is there a history of multiples in your family?”

“Like twins? I mean I have twin brothers… Wait.” She looks at the doctor with wide eyes. Nodding the doctor moves the screen to show them the two alien forms inside of Indigo. “Holy Fuck.” she slaps a hand over her mouth, staring at the screen that just told her it was double what she was expecting.

“I was not expecting that.” Leo chimes in giving her hand a supportive squeeze.

After the appointment is over and they are driving home Leo’s phone goes off. Indigo answers it still in shock from the news they were just told. It’s Eloise, she’s calling to hear how the appointment went. Leo’s parents were so excited to hear about Indigo and Leo’s opsie. They told the teens they would take the last four months of the pregnancy off of work to help.

“Eloise… It's twins.” The time goes quiet for about a solid minute, Leo pulls into the driveway and turns the car off waiting for the response. They hear shuffling on the other side of the phone and look at each other nervously, which probably isn’t good for the baby or babies.

“That’s amazing news. Oh honey we are so happy for you!” They let out a sigh of relief. They were gonna be okay.

#leo knut #sweater weather #coast to coast

[vegetacide]

TaG: Bloodlines (Part 8.. )

Veg • notables: Any errors in this are strictly my own

Ty to @gumnut-logic and @scribbles97 for the brainstorming help and the encouragement.

Previous:

Part 1 | Part 2 Bit 1 & Bit 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Rating and General warning: Mature content head. If you are not a fan of medical issues of a female nature in relation to pregnancy please proceed with caution.

Characters: Virgil, Kayo, (V/K) 

Location: TaG-verse AU | Tracy Island

E N J O Y

8-8-8

Part 8 -  Susulan

Lady Penelope being true to her word found a wonderful woman who was well liked and sought after and she was one of several that Doctor Coxley had recommended to their Grandmother.  

The tall Haitian by the name of Cecilia had credentials as long as Kayo’s arm and had worked in some of the best kitchens in the world. Several of which had Michelin star ratings due to her amazing contributions and somehow they’d managed to scoop her. 

She was a true marvel and the whole family took advantage of her skills. 

The boys were in heaven and so well fed that often they found themselves all camped out in the living room  or out by the pool in various states of full bellied contended lethargy. Happily stuffed and satiated after a mind blowing meals.  Before long it was like Cecilia had always been there and things in the house seemed to settle down back into some form of normalcy.  

The two weeks following her arrival just seemed to coast by and as previously arranged the date of Doctor Coxley follow-up had come and gone with barely a hitch.. 

His trip had been a simple affair, the boys having been out on a call at the time.  One of their security operatives had shuttled the doc to the island with little fanfare.  

Kayo, though frustrated at being basically bed bound the last few weeks, found herself decidedly nervous.   She was eager to know if the improvement of her condition would be enough to appease the doctor. She’d done research herself as she’d had plenty of time on her hands but she was by no means an expert.

Her pressure was down,  bleeding tampering off to the odd bout of spotting. Energy levels were increasing daily and her appetite was healthy.  She felt better now then she had in a while despite the lingering morning sickness and she was twitching to do something other than staring at the walls all day.    

Grandma had been happy with the results as the forced rest seemed to have helped but there was no telling if she was going to be able to return to some form of duty or not.

Upon the Doctor’s arrival Grandma had shown him to their infirmary where Kayo had been waiting as patiently as she could.     

After a quick but thorough exam her doctor had snapped off his gloves and tossed them in a bin before making a quick note on his data pad.   When he’d turned back,  he’d handed Kayo a towel and given her a hand up from the awkward position she’d had to sit in.

The island medical facilities were top notch for basic injuries but for things of this nature,  not so much.   

“Well, “  He’s begun pushing his glasses up his nose.  “Things are looking good.  The bleeding has for the most part stopped through you may still experience a bit of spotting.  Typical of placenta previa.   

“Baby’s heart rate sounds strong and your weight gain is all within acceptable levels for your age and fitness level.”  

He’d paused as he’d looked over his note.  “I’m pleased to see you’ve taken appropriate measures the last couple of weeks and I do see a marked improvement in your BP but,” he stopped for emphasis.  “It’s still higher than I would like to see it. 

I know you’ve been eager to get back to some sort of normal activity level but I would have to recommend that for the time being you refrain from anything too strenuous.  At this stage of your pregnancy we don’t want to mess around as you still have some twenty odd weeks to go.”

Kayo had been disappointed by the results but she would do whatever needed to be done.  

“Additionally,”  He added, setting the data pad down to make sure he had her full attention. “Going forward I would like to be able to monitor you personally.  Allowing you to come home was the best course of action given the situation at the time but I have my reservation about you not being within east travel distance of a hospital.  It’s quite a hike out here even with access to the type transportation you have at your disposal but given the nature of your pregnancy I strongly recommend you relocate to the mainland.” 

That certainly hadn’t been what she expected and her hand automatically settled on her middle.  “Is there a problem?”  

Doctor Coxley gave her knee a pat.  “Just call me being overly precautious. I would rather have the necessary staff and equipment and not need it than need it and not have it.”  

He’d smiled at her then,  turning to gather up the equipment he’d brought with him. “I’ll advise Doctor Tracy of what we’ve discussed so arrangements can be made sooner rather than later. And I would highly recommend you make the move in the very near future as traveling any later could have detrimental effects that we would like to avoid.”  

He’d left shortly after with directions to call him if she had any further questions.  

It was definitely not what she’d been expecting to hear and her anxiety kicked up a notch. 

The island was a secure haven but the outside world was a different story.  If the media got wind that she was on the mainland and pregnant there would be no way to stop that shit storm that would follow. Their family privacy would be out the window in an instant and the vultures would start circling like that carrion loving garbage eaters they were. 

She’d cursed as she dropped her face into her hands 

“So, “ Virgil said,  stepping from the bathroom with a towel slung low around his hips.  “He wants you to be closer to medical help if need be.”

His wife gave a nod and he leaned a heavy shoulder against the door frame, arms crossing tight over his chest.  

It wasn’t idle that was for sure, security wise it was a nightmare and as for call out the logistics were .. well to say it wasn’t the best was putting it lightly. 

“We’ll talk to Scott and Dad in the morning.  We’ll figure it out somehow.”

Fiddling with the end of her hair, Kayo looked off out the darkened window.  “It’s not going to work with both of us being there.  Two isn’t something you can just park anywhere without it being noticed.  Even on a GDF base eventually it’s going to get noticed.  And what about the pods?”

Brows dipping, Virgil pushed off the door frame.  “What are you saying?”  

She braided and unbraided the end of her hair,  eyes distant and when she flicked her gaze up to him he caught on to her train of thought.   Shaking his head he walked the short distance over to her and crouched at her feet.  

“That is not an option and you know it.”

“Virgil,  we don’t have much of a choice here.  You’re needed here and we can’t just up and move Two and all her gear to the mainland for the next four months.  It’s not logical or safe.  It would be easier to set up a secure location for me.  I can take a small security detail with me. Logistically its a sound option”

Virgil shook his head, taking her hands in his.  “No,  that is not a viable option, Tan. It’s too risky.  Not with us having no idea where your uncle is or what he’s up to.”

“It’s been months since there’s been any sightings or news on him.. Maybe it’s time we stop hiding..”

Shocked, Virgil blinked at her.  Five months earlier she’d thought that not having the baby was a better option than having it because of the Hood and now she was doing a complete about face.  

“Kay, stop.” He gave her hands a squeeze running his thumb over the back of her knuckles. ‘What’s really going on here?” 

She pulled away and got to her feet to walk across the room.  Taking his shirt off the back of a chair she tugged it over her shoulder,  her small frame dwarfed by it and Virgil got a flashback of a morning so many months ago.. One he didn’t care to be reminded of when there had been a real possibility of them not being in the position they were in now.  Like having to make this sort of decision. 

He would take this though over any other option as difficult as things were at the moment the alternative was not something he even wanted to fathom. 

Her shoulders shrugged and she turned back to face him.  “I’m just trying to not.. I don’t know...”  Her shoulders slumped.  “It’s just that things are so complicated and having to worry about ‘him’ all the time is exhausting.”  

Going to her,  he wrapped her in his arms.  “We’ll figure it out. Let’s just not do anything rash before we’ve exhausted all the alternatives.”

Her slender arms slipped around his waist and she burrowed into his chest. When they were along like this was the only time he ever got to see this side of her.  The vulnerable one that she tried hard to hide from the others. 

Her confidence was always such a striking thing about her.  Standing out and making her bigger than life but in the closed confines of their space the masks peeled away.  Her guard came down and he got to see the woman underneath the warrior.  

Pulling back,  he took her chin in his hand and tipped her head up so he could see her face. Brushing his thumb over her pulse point, he kissed her brow and then each check reverently before skimming his lips over hers.  

She sank into him easily,  having long ago given up her internal battle against the feelings she’d hidden so well from him.  

He caught himself though as her fingers pressed into his back. It was late and he could tell by the shadows under her eyes that Kayo needed sleep desperately.  The emotional toil of the day having cost her considerably.    

Her breath ghosted across his lips as she sighed,  knowing like he did that stopping before things got out of hand was for the best right now. 

“Come on, we can discuss this in the morning when we both aren’t dead on our feet.”

Her nod in agreement was singular and concise.  A flicker of her confidence with the simple gesture returning behind the verdant green of her eyes.

She stood back, took his hand and tugged him towards the bed.  

8-8-8

TBC

NEXT

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #TaG Bloodlines #vegetacide #Virgil Tracy #Kayo Kyrano #virgil/kayo #Virgil X Kayo

[guigz1-coldwar]

'It's all improvisation' : Chapter 28 of "Fighting Spirit of a Once Innocent Girl"is out !

Summary :

Samantha & Helen are landing in another universe to find out about Monty's real location.....

To read it on AO3, click here !

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I never thought that we will be able to get out of Cuba alive but we can thanks only Nikolai for that and it became so important to me to give him my thanks. He saved us from our inevitable deaths and allowed us to continue in our mission instead of been captured and maybe killed if Omega's forces arrived minutes later while no one came to check our status. He brought us to a secret island in the middle of nowhere where he has built a house, identical to the old House I was living during my young with Eddie.....and Monty.

Nikolai told me the truth I never expected : for all these times, behind the mask Perseus was using.....it was Eddie all along. The only friend that was so close to me, the one person that was playing with me in my childhood.....was in fact my enemy I've been tracking down for months. It was Eddie's body but it was Monty who were controlling it. Eddie was trapped inside his own body and I will do anything to get Eddie back in control and then, I will kill Monty myself like I promised years ago.

Monty was the person I was hating the most in this now entire multiverse, along with Adler, Requiem and the Omega Group. I started to think that once we come back to West-Berlin in our universe, we will need to tell them about the truth of the fight we are making against Perseus. For the finals moments, our differences must be step aside as we need to fight together if we want to stop Monty from achieving his ultimate plans to destroy Europe and to put his world and maybe in the future the others universes into the Dark Aether.

We needed to get back to West-Berlin before Lazar take everyone to Monty fake location because of his state of been mind-controlled but unfortunately, we have to face another problem from that : we have no clues or any leads that could have helped us to discover the real base of Monty as everyone who could have give us that info were either dead or missing : Peck was beheaded by Monty & Valentina....I killed her. Those two must have know that info but now, they can't help us as they are fully dead.

However, even if Nikolai also didn't know of Monty's real location, he know exactly what we can do to have our answers and to be honest, me & Helen couldn't believe of what we were going to do to make that happen. Nikolai presented to us the Multiverse that was created when the old one was banished in the Dark Aether and showed to us that all of these universes were sharing a comoon point : Perseus's threat existed but very different of our universe, there were no Dark Aether on these universes for the moment.

Nikolai reassured to us that the location Perseus is hiding is always the same place around the multiverse including us. He decided that to get our responses, we will have to travel into another universe to talk with an woman called 'Bell', a name shared by a lot of differents people and also facing the same situation : working with Adler against Perseus. We had to agreed because it was our only way for us. Once we were ready, Nikolai created for us an portal leading to that particular universe. Me & Helen joined hands and then we crossed the portal.

That little travel didn't last so long as after at least 10 seconds, we arrived into that universe......the portal was located in a hidden place around big trees as we stepped in this universe. Once we were fully in, the portal closed meaning that we had to find our answers until Nikolai created another one to get us back. I started to look around to check our surroundings.

"It's feels weird." I started, having the impression that we shouldn't be here as I was feeling cold, the air in that place was cold because it was night.

"We are really into that universe ?" Helen couldn't believe that, looking at me "Or we're back at West-Berlin ?" She added, recognizing the place and me too

"You are arrived in your destination." We could hear Nikolai's voice in our heads, he said he was going to guide us in our task, helping us with the necessary.

"So, it's too late to back down, right ?" Helen asked, smirking

"Exactly !" I replied with an smile "Nikolai, where are we ?"

"You're not far from the same safehouse you're using in West-Berlin." He said, sounding sure of himself "Join the place and find a good place to hide near its main entrance."

"Understood." Helen nodded before leading the way forwards and I followed her.

We walked for a while until we can finally have the safehouse in sight, the same one like in our universe. Nothing was weird about it as we got closer but then, we could spot.....another Helen leaned against the garage door, awaiting for something. It was the other Helen from that universe and I could see that my Helen were shocked to see herself, same as me. We couldn't let ourselves be spotted by her so we needed to find a better place to hide.

Nikolai guided us and adviced us to get on the rooftop of the safehouse to have a better look on the surroundings but also inside as there were a part of the ceilling where we could be able to look inside and also hear what they can said. For climbing on that rooftop, we decided to use our powers and it was much easy than to use the pipe. Helen was amazed when she started to levitate too, showing to me that she was like me and I think she start to like it too.

Once we were on the rooftop, we decided to stay hidden, keeping a look to the main entrance as the other Helen was still awaiting against the garage door. Helen was intrigued on something,

"She has the same clothes as me." She thought, her hand on her chin "Nikolai, how did you succeed to have my clothes ?" She asked to him in our head

"Powers." He simply said.

"Wait, you said that you were wearing the same clothes when we found each other again." I started, looking at Helen "Does that mean....."

"The date is the February 24th 1981." Nikolai replied, cutting me short

"Is that normal ?" Helen started to ask "We're in another universe and back in time ?"

"Yes." Nikolai muttered "It was the only date where you could have your answer without having any much troubles." He added

"I understand what you mean." I told him with an smile before Helen gestured to me,

"Someone's coming." She said as we heard a car arriving at the safehouse. We lied down in cover as the people get out of the car : we could see Russell Adler and our person in interest, I could say.

"Bell, welcome to West-Berlin." Adler started, taking something in his pocket, a cigarette and lighting it before looking back at Bell "We have a job to do !" Both then arrived near their Helen who knocked two times on the door as a signal to open it "Park."

"Adler." She said, harshly, taking a bag that was just at her feets before looking at Bell "Bell." This time, she was sounding more happy with her than with him.....Guess that it's a common thing in every universe. The trio then enter the safehouse, the door staying open and we decided to join the part where we could observe everyone inside : it was weird to see Lazar normally and different now.

"Okay, everyone, gather up." Adler exclaimed, gesturing to everyone to come near the same dashboard at the same place as in our universe. "You all know why we're here today : we have been asked to track a soviet spy we called 'Perseus'." He started before smoking his cigarette "However, our leads against him are very limited and we only have this as our only lead." He put his hand on a file that was on his desk, the same I have decrypted.

"Our analysts in the MI6 and those in the CIA weren't able to decypher that file meaning....." Their Helen added, joining the briefing

"Meaning that we have to revisit an old ops from 13 years ago." Adler cut her straight, I could see anger on Helen on the ground and next to me.

"Damn, doc', you're talking about Vietnam and 'Fracture Jaw' ?" Sims asked and Adler nodded

"It's our only lead and Bell will help us." He said, looking at her

"I will but....I think I need some moments to think about it and to install myself here." Bell told him, we could see an worried on Adler's face before he gain back an straight face

"Okay, it's fine." Adler sighed "The others, free time until Bell is cleared to talk about it." He ordered, meaning the end of that little briefing as everyone goes in their separate ways : Bell decided to go in the dorm as their Helen was back outside. We decided to move next to the cover we used to have a view on the entrance as we saw Adler joining their Helen who started to smoke.

"What do you want, Adler ?" She asked to him in a hard tone, hearing him arrive

"I wanted to make things clear, Park." He said, concerned "With Bell, we all need to stay an simple team."

"Why ?" She told him, sounding surprised

"You know well that Bell is someone we need to watch closely, remember ?" He was sounding so clear in his voice like everything was normal as me & Helen were wondering what was the deal with Bell. "I'm asking you to not be acting like best friends with her, it's not because you put her in the MI6 that you had to stick together with her as the only women around."

"Is this a problem for you ?" She said, raising an eyebrow "She's an human being, it's not my fault if you can't see things normally. I can thanks Lazar to think the same along me."

"Tell what you want to say." He clenched his fists "But my orders stay clear : with Bell, it's only professional. Lazar got the same thing from me."

"What did he say about it ?" She asked, not looking at him anymore

"That he will think about it." He replied and she smiled at him

"Then you have my answer : I will think about it." She said to him, smirking, he rolled his eyes in desesperation before walking inside the safehouse, leaving her alone "Douchebag !" She whispered, enough to be hear by us. Yeah, she's right about him.

Once their little discussion were done, me & Helen decided to leave that rooftop by the same way we got on it to join the ground level. When we were back on the same level, we walked to get to a hidden location but we saw their Helen was staying outside and unfortunately, we needed to find a way to get in.

"I guess that now, it's all improvisation ?" I whispered to Helen, she nodded.

"We need to think about getting me....Well, her away from the place." She said, looking at herself

"I know what you're thinking : you want to take her place but I need to get in too." I exclaimed, finding out about the plan we were making along our mission. "And we got something to deal with." I pointed to our purples eyes, showing that we can be spotted with that

"Don't worry about this." Nikolai said to us as we started to feel something inside our pockets, we checked it out to find some glasses and when we put them on, I could see that our real eyes color were hidden : her purple right eye were back to her former blue as for me, my eyes were also back to blue.....just to the other views.

"Thanks but we need to find something for the other Helen." I said before I feel something new again in my pockets, I checked it again and this time, I had two creditentials cards in my hand : one with an fake MI6 identity and the other.....were an real one and marked to be affiliated to the CIA. "Seriously ?" I sighed

"I'm sorry, Samantha but you need to improvise for now while I'm still helping around." Nikolai said, sounding sorry

"And what now ?" Helen asked to me.

"Let me take care of it, I'll give you the signal when I'm done with yourself." I smirked at the end, giving her a kiss on the forehead and making her blush before I walked away to join the road, fainting that I have just arrived by walk at this safehouse.

I was so stressed out about this as I was about to talk to Helen but not the one I know meaning that I have to talk to her like I was not knowing her at all. I decide to use my fake MI6 identity card for that as she wasn't sounding so pleased while talking to people inside the CIA. Before I was at her sight, I took a deep breath behind a cover before letting the game begin. I got out of the cover, walking towards her,

"Agent Park ?" I asked sure of myself as I was walking towards her

"Yes." She looked at me worried "Who are you ?" She added, raising an eyebrow

"Julie Nathanson." I replied showing her the fake MI6 card. "MI6"

"Oh, I'm surprised to see a friendly face from the MI6." She said, sounding relieved and throwing her cigarette at her feets "That change from Adler."

"Is there something wrong ?" I asked, sounding worried

"Just the job, things that are preoccupying me a lot." She grinned a little before looking at me "Why are you here ?"

"I'm here because the director will like to see you." I responded, not even sure of my own answer

"The director ?" She leaned backwards "He's here ?"

"Yes, he's in West-Berlin and he asked me to give that info." I said, lying more further

"Where exactly ?" She asked as in my head, I was rapidly trying to find an answer and I had to improvise quickly. I took the first answer I had.

"Sunny Diner." I exclaimed "An typical american diner in the outskirts of the city."

"I see where the place is." She got away from the wall "I suppose that he want to meet me in a matter of time, right ?" I nodded "Well, it's better that I'm on my way." She started to walk to get next to a car parked next to the entrance before looking at me "You came by walking ?" She asked me, curious about how I came

"Yes, a little exercise can help." I smiled at her, wondering about her next question "Don't worry, someone will pick me up soon, I will stay here for a moment and I will be on my very own way."

"Ok, then." She entered the car, removing her suspicious look "Thank you, agent Nathanson. Just watch out and stay out of the safehouse, it's an big advice." She started the car before driving away from the place.

I was so relieved and feeling weird to have done that but it was necessary. Once she was far away, I looked at the direction Helen was hiding and gestured her to join me, hidden just next to the garage door as we needed to talk about our next part of our improvised plan. We disposed off their Helen and now, improvisation is all we were making. Helen arrived next to me, seeing my worried look and she was half laughing about it because of me talking to her without been her actually.

"How it was ?" She asked me

"Hard." I simply said before thinking of the next part "Now, you will see how it feels."

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes "But you're coming with me, I will make the presentation with Adler, I presume."

"We are improvising our entire plan, Helen." I exclaimed to her "We're just maybe at a few meters from having our answers....and we will have to be fast in case."

"Of course." She redressed herself before taking a deep breath "Let's go play my own role." She then opened the way inside the safehouse as I decided to follow her like we said. I was so nervous about this as I could see Lazar....the other Lazar looking at me strangely. Adler was looking at the dashboard when he heard arrived near him.

"Park." He started to said before he turned his back to look at us.....and then, he leaned backwards at my sight, looking so curious and suspicious. "Who is this ?"

"Samantha Maxis, CIA" I offered my hand to him but he was still suspicious, he looked at Park,

"I was clear that I don't accept anymore new agents in the team." He told her clearly, pointing his hand towards me

"Damnit, can you just be normal for once ?" Helen said, taking the same style as the other Helen "She can help us."

"I never heard of you, miss Maxis." He affirmed, looking sure of himself and I needed to improvise

"That's my speciality, Russell Adler." I crossed my arms, smiling at him "I know you well but you don't know me and I think it's better that way." I raised an eyebrow to show him that I wasn't scared of him "I can tell a lot of things about you, things that Park don't know."

"Well, you convinced me." He retracted himself, wanting to not have a complete stranger to talk about his life before he go sit at his desk "So, you're working with the CIA ?"

"Exactly." I replied

"In which department ?" He asked

"Classified information but we used to be call 'Requiem'." My answers caused Helen to look at me with wide eyes....I needed to not get suspicious and I wasn't sure if it was my proudest move I have done here

"Requiem, I supposed that they are very secret." He looked at Park "Why is she here ?"

"She can help with....uhm...Bell." Helen replied, looking around "She's specialized in the type of things we did and she can help Bell to stay focused."

"A woman specialized in brainwashing." He whispered, biting his lips, looking at his desk as me & Helen looked at each other with wide eyes, Did they really brainwashed this Bell ? "I think you want to know more about Bell, right ?" I nodded to his question "You can find her file and what we did back in the archive room in the back next to Lazar workplace." He looked at the supposed place before looking back at us "Just be aware that you need to take it easy with Bell, she's an valuable asset."

"I will do my best." I said before he ordered to dismiss from him. Me & Helen were so relieved that it worked despite everything was against us.

We quickly walked to the archive room and we unlocked the door of it because someone to block it with an padlock. We didn't need to insert an code before I used my strenght to destroy the padlock silently and then we entered the supposed archive room, thinking now about where these files this Adler talked to us were. The room was filled with so many box that we needed to check every one of them and Helen has to help me even if she was supposed to know the place well.

After 5 longs minutes of searching, we finally found the files in questions and a part of our answers about Bell : they named her Jess Blackwell and put her inside the MI6 after Arash Kadivar.....left them for dead in Trabzon. Unfortunately, Helen was getting so bad when we discovered the file, she was seeing that their Park participed in Bell's brainwashing but I recomfort her quickly, knowing that I know well that she will never do something like that and that she was likely forced to do so.

We checked everything that were on the file and once we were done, we put them back to place and we needed now to think about what to do now next.

"So, now that we know everything about Bell, what's the next part ?" I asked

"You could try to corner her in an isolated place in the safehouse and make her talk." Nikolai came back to help us, advicing us.

"But she was brainwashed." Helen said, looking outside the room

"You can use your powers but Samantha will need to do it." Nikolai told us "You will need to use the key-phrase Adler is using to be able to find out." Helen started to wonder around trying to find out what it could be because there were nothing in the files talking about a key-phrase.....until I found out what was the phrase.

"We have a job to do !" I whispered, guessing the phrase "He's using that phrase everytime even in our universe."

"She's right : I just checked that info and Adler seems to use that key-phrase a lot in the Multiverse." Nikolai added, giving some smile to Park.

"Now with that answer, we need to find an way to corner Bell." Helen looked at me and I looked at her

"The dorm." I exclaimed "She's still in there, right ?" She nodded "Okay, once she got out, we get to her and we got her back into that room." I got away from the desk I was leaned against "Then, we are getting our answer." When I was finished, we hear a door opening and Helen checked where was the noise, it was the door of the dorm opening and Bell was getting out.

"Okay, let's go." Helen ordered me to follow her as she got out of the room to join Bell. It was time for us to have what we need. Helen decided that it was better to be the one who talk first. Bell just arrived at the desk that supposed to hers when Helen arrived next to her. "Bell, you're okay ?" She asked first

"Uhm....I'm okay, I guess." Bell replied, worried

"You're sure ? You're looking pale." Helen said as we could see Bell's face getting all white

"I...I think I need to get back to the dorm, I feel like I can't talk about Vietnam." She said as Helen put her hands on her shoulders "I think I need a coffee." Helen put her hand in Bell's back before looking at me.

"Samantha, can you prepare a coffee for Bell ?" She ordered me, winking that it was our shot but I needed to make sure that we weren't going to be too suspicious. I nodded as Helen was walking with Bell back to the dorm, leaving me alone.

I decided to comply to her order and to walk next to the coffee machine that was at the same spot in our universe. I took a cup and prepare the coffee. While the coffee was getting ready, I looked around the safehouse : it was feeling so weird to be in the same place but in another universe. Somehow, I could have feel Greta & Yirina presence next to me and I really hope that they're okay and not in danger. I was wondering if they were having some powers like us and that was an question I was going to ask to Nikolai when we will back at the new House.

It was weird to see Lazar like that, he was normal but it was weird. I was thinking about how this Lazar was feeling about Bell and according to what we heard with Helen between their Adler and their Helen, he was getting in the same line as her. He's still a good man for me but Monty mind-controlled him, I hope that we can save him from Monty's control if we can do it....like I want to save Eddie. Adler was somehow still acting the same in that universe : dangerous and paranoid.....like in every universe, I think.

But then, a vision of horror came when I saw their Helen return from that supposed meeting, causing me to turn my back to the entrance. When I saw her, she was walking towards Adler's desk. I couldn't move of fear.

"Park.....but....I thought you were already inside the safehouse !" Adler exclaimed, having saw her.

"What are you talking about ?" She said, concerned in an harsh tone "I just came back here."

"What do you mean ? You were gone ?" Adler told her as I could hear him getting up from his chair.

"Yeah, an MI6 agent came in, saying that I needed to meet with the MI6 director and I just came back because there were nobody." She admitted as I hoped that she was not going to see me

"Well, I can't help you with that." He laughed, joking about her and forgetting everything before taking a seat again "By the way, how's your CIA friend Samantha Maxis ?"

"Who ?" She said in a questioning tone "I don't know any Samantha Maxis !"

"Aw shit !" I whispered to myself silently

I realized that I was going to blow my cover by staying here like an idiot but I couldn't run away without Helen and without having our answer. We have gone far and I couldn't foiled our mission. I looked behind me as I saw Adler and their Helen slowly looking at me. I had no other choice right now. I needed to walk fast inside the dorm without looking back. I took a last look around me and I started to walk as fast as I can to the dorm as I could hear Adler calling me out. I couldn't stop walking and I changed my mind as I start to run towards the dorm.

I opened the door quickly to the dorm where I could see Bell and Helen next to the bed which I suppose to be Bell's one. Once I was in, I closed the door.

"What's wrong ?" Helen asked me as she could see my perfect worried face "Oh no..." She said, slowly guessing the situation

"You came back and they're going to be here soon." I replied, still holding the door

"Who came back ?" Bell asked, curious before Helen get next to her, her hands on her shoulders,

"Listen, Bell." She started "You need to help us."

"What's the problem with me ?" Bell said, looking confused but we couldn't hide it anymore, Helen removed her glasses, showing at Bell, her eyes,

"We need you to be cooperative." She pleaded before removing her hands "We need something from you."

"Samantha, I blocked the door, they're not able to open it until you will be both away from here." Nikolai told me, allowing me to get away from the door and to join the two. "Bell, we want to help you but we need your help first."

"Park, who is she ?" Bell looked at Helen, worried

"You don't need to worry, she will help you, we will." Helen added before she let me get in front of Bell to check the door, I removed my glasses, showcasing my eyes to Bell.

"Don't be afraid, I'm not here to hurt you but only to help." I said, getting close to Bell,

"What do you want ?" She asked me as she sit on her bed, scared but willing to let me help her

"I need you....to close your eyes and let me do what I need to do, okay ?" I replied and she nodded, still scared. She closed her eyes as I put two fingers of each hands on her both forehead sides. I could feel getting inside her head. "Okay, relax and stay focused." She nodded, looking like she wanted to cry and then, I took a deep breath and my eyes went fully purple.....

"Bell, we have a job to do !"

When I told her that, she was showing signs of resist but then, she started to stabilize herself, letting me doing what I needed to do. I could see her memories.....her real memories, not those Adler gave to her. The first real memory I could see was when she was left for dead at Trabzon, I could relive that memory inside her body as she was shot 3 times by Kadivar. She was looking troubled because she was living that memory too and some tears appeared on her face but she was staying focused.

Then, I could see others memories of her getting tortured by the CIA. Tied up on a chair and beaten up by Adler but it wasn't always like that, Helen was there too but she was always talking nice with her and never gave her an punch or anything else to brutalize her. Their Helen was so kind to Bell and she was having feeling for her and it was reciprocal. Bell smiled at seeing those memories with Helen but angry when it was the CIA. She was realizing that she wasn't really an MI6 agent and that she was brainwashed, making her cry.

I told her to stay focused, holding back my own tears as she wasn't deversing that at all, she was very kind and I can't let her suffer enough. Then, I could see myself in her body, attending an meeting with.....Perseus himself, unmasked. There were also others members from Perseus group : Volkov, Arash Kadivar and others persons that I didn't know the identity but no signs of Peck or Valentina since they have no links with Perseus in that universe. Perseus was talking but then, everything come to black for me as for Bell, she was still feeling it.

"Bell, you're okay ?" I asked worried, not removing my fingers

"I'm....okay." She replied in a low voice

"Did you hear what Perseus fully said ?" I told her and she nodded "Where's Perseus ?" She opened her eyes, looking at me with tears and she smiled.....

"From the safety......of Solovetsky."

It....it was the answer we've been looking for : the real location Monty was going to be. Nikolai was clear about that subject : in every universe, Perseus is always at the same location. I looked at Bell who smiled before getting pale again and falling on the bed, weak. I tried to not make her fall but it was too late, she was too weak to move but she could still speak and look at me.

"It's going to be okay, Bell." I told her

"You're sure ?" She asked, putting all of her strenght in it

"Don't worry, we will make sure of that !" I said with an smile. "Nikolai, it's done." When I finished, we could hear the beginning of a formation of an portal at the end of the room. "Take some rest, it will be okay." I admitted before I started to walk away, getting next to Helen who were awaiting for me as the portal was fully there.

"How're you feeling ?" Helen asked to me, worried

"I don't know, I wish that we could help her more about her true self." She then handed over her hand and we both joined hands together.

"I'm sure that we will do it, Sam." She affirmed before looking at the portal "Ready, Sammy ?" Then back at me with lovely eyes, her right one brighting at my sight. I could only smile at seeing her, knowing that she always the truth to me,

"I am, Sapphire. It's time to go home."

#black ops cold war #bocw #call of duty cold war #cod cw #cod black ops cold war #cod cold war #fanfic #helen park #samantha maxis

[indomitableicequeen]

Ficlet 11 in the No Happy Endings verse with @must-hate-dogs

Original thread || Ficlet 1 ||  Ficlet 2 || Ficlet 3 || Ficlet 4 || Ficlet 5 || Ficlet 6 || Ficlet 7 || Ficlet 8 || Ficlet 9 || Ficlet 10 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Run the drills again.”

“Sir, the performance has come up—”

“Again, Miles! Drachma hasn’t given up, and we both know it.”

“…Yes, General.”

Miles stepped from General Armstrong’s office with a frown and closed the door behind him. He looked over at Karley, who had been waiting outside of the door for him. “After an hour’s rest, the men are to run the drills again.” He said. “Make sure all departments are aware.”

Karley looked surprised but didn’t question it. He simply saluted and went off to spread the orders. Miles walked down the hall, keeping his face carefully blank as he did. His thoughts, though, were anything but blank. General Armstrong had always been a fierce commander, harsh and strict, but fair. It was what made her such a good commander, why her men had her loyalty.

But something had shifted just a bit, lately, and she had become colder, harsher. She didn’t listen to him as easily as she used to, came to him less for advice. Her actions were still logical, still for the good of the fort, and she still looked out for her men, but there was something else there. Something different.

Something colder.

Of course, she had good reason to be on guard. The attempt on the conference had only been the beginning. Since then, they had caught and stopped more attempts by Drachma to cause damage to either the fort or to infrastructure. And each time, there had been more to the plot than just the men they had caught. Drachma was getting more and more bold, and it was a problem.

Before this past month, Drachma had not been as bold. They might make a direct move, but then they would pull back, and, aside from a small skirmish between a few soldiers, there would be nothing major for months. But within a much shorter time frame, Drachma had made three bold moves, and they weren’t all direct moves either. This change in pattern was worrisome, and it had him wondering if he should send his wife and daughters to family further away from the North. But aside from that, there wasn’t much that he could do.

It did make him wonder just what was going on behind the scenes.

Drachma’s moves weren’t the only thing that was worrying Miles, however. That was centered more on the general herself. Getting intel had become paramount. General Hoffer at Northern Command had issued orders about it. Olivier herself had carried out some of those orders: Get information by any means necessary.

The problem wasn’t that order, in and of itself. It was more in how Olivier had been ordered to gain this information. Enemies had been turned over to her for torture, and torture them she had. To her credit, she had tried, at first, other tactics. They always had, as the general believed torture was dehumanizing, but Olivier had drug it out a little longer than normal, putting off the torture a little longer.

(Miles couldn’t help but wonder if it had a direct correlation with the last argument that she had with Heymans Breda, and the words he had left her with.)

But no amount of cajoling or pressure had convinced these men to give anything up, and Olivier had, eventually, turned to torture as a means of getting the information. Miles had stood outside the room as usual, ready with a new pair of gloves for her, and listening.

She did her work, causing pain, asking questions, and hissing things out in both Amestrian and Drachman. She got the information they needed, and she went back for more, making sure to drain every drop of information from them that she could. And after each session, after the orders were given and the information sent, he walked with her back to her quarters, put on tea while she showered, and then he was sent out from the room, to leave her alone.

(He couldn’t help but remember what she had told him, though, about how Heymans had held her that night while she came back to herself after torturing a man, and then how he had turned his back on her and left right after. It honestly made his heart ache.)

Or at least, that had been the pattern until she had gotten to Iles Redowscle.

Miles could still clearly see the way she had slammed her door in his face after her first encounter with the man. Or, well, it wasn’t her first encounter with the man, and that was part of the problem. It was her second, but her first time facing the man who had tortured her for three days since she was rescued from him all those years ago. The man’s presence had clearly loosed something in the general, and Miles’ stomach turned as he thought of it.

Her panic when she realized who he was.

The way she had refused his presence.

The way she and gone back and tortured Redowscle when no one had known.

The state Redowscle was in currently.

The way Doc worked hard to keep him alive.

The deadline they had with General Hoffer and Drachma.

Miles wondered if he should add the incessant drills and the almost-paranoia that the general was currently displaying to that list. They felt just as out of balance as everything else. He needed to find a way to talk to her. He needed to find out if she was alright. He needed to soothe the part of him that was warning him that things were about to get bad—or acknowledge it.

Miles took in a breath and silently let it out. She wouldn’t hear him now, he knew. Instead, he would carry out her orders, and look for the opportunity as soon as it presented itself. He would just have to be vigilant for it and hope that it wasn’t too late.

The next few hours were spent with the entire fort (minus the people on sentry duty) engaged in running the drills again. Miles could see that the men were tired, but orders were orders. He just hoped that Olivier would be satisfied with this round.

The drill had just completed when a young warrant officer came running up to him. “Sir! Sir!”

Miles turned towards him. “What is it?” he asked.

“Cars on the road,” he said. “It’s General Hoffer.”

Miles’s stomach clenched. “Inform the general,” he said. The young man saluted and ran off.

Miles could only hope that his sense of foreboding wasn’t accurate.

~*~*~*~

The last time a general had shown up on her doorstep unbidden, Olivier had killed him. Of course, there was a bit more to it than that, but the end result was the same. She had the distinct feeling she wouldn’t mind doing the same thing to General Hoffer. Only he was smarter than Raven had been. He knew how to watch himself.

General Hoffer exited his car, giving salutes to the men who saluted him before turning his attention on Olivier. She stood waiting, Miles by her side, and gave a crisp salute to him as well.

“At ease, General,” Hoffer said.

“Yes, sir,” Olivier responded. “Forgive our disarray, sir. We were running drills. You weren’t expected for another week.”

“I should have called ahead,” he said. “Is there any particular reason you’re running drills, General Armstrong?”

“A precautionary measure, sir,” she said. “Drachma has been getting bolder lately.”

“Of course,” he said.

By now they were walking, Olivier leading the way to the receiving room where guests to the fort usually went.

“Is there a reason you’ve arrived early?” she asked him. “The return isn’t until next week, unless that has changed.”

“No, it hasn’t,” he said. “I just wanted to come see how the prisoners were doing. I assume you… treated them to your mercies.”

“If you mean did I torture them as so ordered, then yes, I did.” She responded.

He hummed. “I would like to see them,” he said.

Olivier could feel the tension rise in Miles, but she ignored it, and hoped that Hoffer couldn’t feel it himself.

“Of course, General,” she said. “This way.”

She led Hoffer to the interrogation rooms where the first two prisoners were. They were still injured, but it was clear that they were in no danger of dying any time soon. Hoffer looked at them and nodded in approval.

“And where is the third?” he asked. “I believe I gave you three men.”

“The other is in sickbay,” she said. “If you will follow me.”

“Sickbay?” Hoffer questioned. “He must have been a tough one to crack.”

“He,” Olivier said, her gaze darkening, “is a professional torturer. It takes more extreme measures to crack someone like him.”

“Did he crack?” Hoffer asked.

“Not enough,” Olivier replied, a growl in her throat.

There was a pause, and then Hoffer hummed a bit. He didn’t say anything further as the trio walked up to sickbay, and Olivier didn’t offer up any conversation. She really wasn’t in the mood to be a conversationalist. She hadn’t been for a while. Fortunately, the trip to sickbay didn’t take long. Doc looked up in surprise when the three of them walked in, rocketing to her feet and throwing a salute Hoffer’s way.

“At ease, Doctor,” he said. “I was told there’s a patient here I want to see.”

Olivier didn’t miss Doc’s glance at her, and she gave a slight nod. She saw Doc’s eyes flick briefly to Miles, but then she was turning around, her expression concealed, and gestured for them to follow her.

Olivier hadn’t seen the man since she finished with him, having no desire to. He deserved to rot and die as far as she was concerned. That would be the least of punishments she thought he should endure. She could feel her anger and something else, something she refused to identify, rising up in her the closer they got, and she shoved it all back down. She would not cow to this man, nor would she show weakness in front of him or Hoffer. She refused.

There was a guard by the bay that the man was in, something Olivier had insisted on. He saluted when they approached. Hoffer waved it off. The guard stepped to the side, looking over all of them curiously, but giving them access to the bay. Doc reached up and pulled the curtain back.

Olivier couldn’t stop the fear that shot through her as she did, although she managed to keep any of it from showing. But she felt her heart rate increase, felt a tightening in her chest, and made an effort to keep her jaw from clenching.

The man was awake and lying in the bed. Even under the thin blanket—a luxury that had not been afforded to her—it was clear to see that one leg was in a cast. A drainage bag for a wound, and a catheter bag hung on the sides of the bed. The cast on his right arm could be seen, as well as the bandages on his left arm, and other bandages peeked out from the hospital gown he wore.

At least his black eye and swelling cheek had gone down.

The man’s eyes traveled over them pausing just a fraction of a second longer on Olivier, and she made sure to keep her breathing steady and not give into the fear spike.

“I see,” he said, his voice tired, worn, “I have new company.”

Hoffer looked down at him. The old general wasn’t doddering enough to let his thoughts show on his face. “Yes,” he said mildly.

The man looked at Hoffer. “You were there. You gave me to her. I must thank you.”

Hoffer raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes,” the man continued, and his eyes flicked back over to Olivier, and she hated it. “I like to see what happens my victims when they escape me or are freed.” He smiled. “I like to see the lasting impact I had on their lives.” His grin widened. “I quite enjoy the effect I had on hers.”

Hoffer looked disturbed, and she could sense more than anything Miles, Doc and the guard shifting, ready as if ready to move. Olivier herself felt as if she couldn’t breathe, as if her throat was starting to close up, as if she were trapped once again.

She showed none of it. Instead, she let out a snort. “You give yourself too much credit,” she said. She looked back up at Hoffer. “Is there more you wanted from him, sir?”

Hoffer had regained his balance. “No, I think that is enough for now.”

He turned to leave, and the rest of them turned to follow him. But the man’s eyes caught hers once more, and he gave a knowing smirk. Olivier felt like she was going to be sick.

“Perhaps come back at talk to me later—any of you,” he called out, and Olivier could feel his eyes burning into her back, even after Doc has pulled the curtain and the guard had resumed his place.

Once they were back in the main area of sickbay, Hoffer turned to Doc. “I want that man’s medical records,” he demanded.

“Yes, sir,” she said, glancing again at Olivier.

Hoffer looked at Olivier. “We need to retire to your office, General. It appears we have much to discuss.”

“Yes, sir,” Olivier said mildly.

Doc returned with the records, and handed them over to Hoffer, who then looked at Olivier. She took the hint, and led the way out, Hoffer following behind her. Miles was just a beat behind them, and Olivier was fairly certain that he and Doc had exchanged another look. She’d have to talk to them later and find out just what was going on.

Once again, it wasn’t a long walk, and within minutes the three of them were through her anteroom and into her office. Hoffer looked at Miles, who closed the door behind them, even as Olivier took her place behind her desk. Hoffer only waited until the door was closed before he started.

“General, what was that?” he demanded.

Olivier didn’t blink. “Can you be more specific, sir?” she asked.

He flipped open the records, looking at them. “Broken leg, broken arm, burns of various kinds, whipping, a large gash across—” he cut himself and looked up at her. His face was dark with anger. “What kinds of wounds are these!” he demanded.

“Ones you get from torture,” Olivier said. “It is what you instructed me to do, sir.”

“Drachma is coming within the week to retrieve these men! They’re high-level officials! They’re related to high level officials! I ordered you not to injure them irrevocably!”

“Sir, I only received those orders after the sessions had already been done,” she said. “By then it was too late.”

“And yet only one of the men required extensive medical care,” Hoffer said. “Can you explain why to me, General Armstrong.”

It was a fight not to grind her teeth together. Patience. Patience. Her mother’s lessons on hiding your true thoughts around others had always been beneficial to her, in high society or in the military. They wouldn’t fail her now.

“As I said, General Hoffer, the man is a trained torturer himself. He would not cave under normal means.” She fought to keep the tension out of her voice.

“And that meant that these lengths were necessary,” He demanded.

“Yes, sir,” she said, edge creeping into her voice. “Lesser means were not working.”

“And how do you know that?” the general plowed on. “Did this have something to do with him saying you were a victim of his? What did that mean, General!”

She tensed, and she could feel it in every part of her body. She saw Miles straighten out of the corner of her eye. “It meant,” she said, feeling herself enunciating every word very precisely, “that he had tortured me once. Sir.”

“Then are you sure, General, that it was necessary, and not just personal feelings?” Hoffer demanded.

Olivier felt something snap. Almost before she knew what she was doing, her hand was on her sword, sweeping out of its scabbard. Only Miles’s yelled “General!” stopped her. Her blade was an inch from Hoffer’s neck. She didn’t move, her eyes meeting his. Hoffer was completely still, his eyes wide.

“Do not,” she hissed out, “assume that you know anything about me, my methods, or my decisions. Remembered, General, it was you who ordered me to torture them, and you who wanted the information faster.”

She held her position for a moment, and then she took a step back, sheathing her sword. Hoffer, too, took a step back. For a moment, there was nothing but silence in the office, a stark contrast to the demands and yelling that had been filling it only seconds before.

“The men will be readied for transport in whatever condition they are in by next week. Was there anything else you required, sir?” Olivier asked.

Hoffer looked pale, but he did not let himself cower. “No, General Armstrong,” he said. “I believe I have the information I was looking for. I will return in a week for the men and the handover.”

“Very well,” she said. She looked to Miles, who opened the door to the office.

“General,” he said to Hoffer.

With one last look at her, Hoffer left the office.

Miles stepped outside the door, but he didn’t close it. “Smith,” he said. “Escort General Hoffer back to his car.”

Olivier could hear Smith’s response, could hear the sounds of Smith and Hoffer leaving, but she didn’t step out of the office. She didn’t even move, her hand still tight around her sword. After a moment, Miles stepped back inside, closing the door behind him.

“General?” he said, although he didn’t attempt to approach her.

Olivier said nothing for a moment, looked at nothing, just stared at a spot on the floor, trying to get herself back under control. She felt unbalanced, off-kilter, not quite in control.

“…was he right?” she finally said, her voice soft.

“Sir?” she could hear the concern in Miles’ voice and heard him take a step closer.

“Heymans,” she said. “Was he right?” She looked back up at Miles, not quite able to put her usual control back on all the way. “Do I hate Drachma too much to respond rationally? Am I putting the fort in danger?”

Miles met her gaze but said nothing. Finally, he sighed, reached up, and took off his glasses, rubbing at his eyes. “Let me put on some tea,” he said.

Olivier nodded, and let herself sink down into one of the chairs that sat in front of her desk. One of the benefits to her position was that she had a small potbellied stove hooked into the heating. It was useful for making hot drinks or heating up food when she worked long hours. Miles knew this and knew where she hid her teas. It didn’t take him long to start the tea, and neither of them spoke a word while he prepared it. Finally, he handed her a cup, and sat down with his own across from her, in the other chair.

She waited.

“General—Olivier,” he began. “At the time he said that I didn’t think it was true.”

Olivier felt a sinking feeling in her chest.

“I still don’t think its true in general,” he continued. “However, when it comes to this particular man—yes. I think your hate and your fear is blinding you.”

Her heart twisted inside her.

“I won’t pretend to know what you went through. Your reaction to him is probably justified.” He paused. “I saw the report. I saw the medical records of what happened to you. I think your reaction to his is understandable.”

“But,” she prompted him.

“But,” he continued, “I think it is effecting your judgement at the moment. The wounds you inflicted on him were the same as the ones he inflicted on you. Olivier, that doesn’t sound like interrogation, that sounds like retribution.”

Her lips pursed, but she couldn’t deny how it looked.

“Ever since then, you’ve gotten tougher on the men, running drill after drill. Yes,” he said before she could object, “you have good reason. Drachma is up to something. But you’re pushing them harder than before you tortured Redowscle. Its wearing on them. And Olivier,” he paused. “You drew on Hoffer, just for suggesting that your actions may have been personal.”

Her jaw tightened, but she said nothing.

“I don’t believe you’re a danger to the fort,” he said. “And at any other time, I trust your judgment without a second thought. But I do think that this has affected you more than you realize.”

Olivier didn’t say anything. She sat there, holding her cup of rapidly cooling tea, considering his words. Finally, she spoke.

“…Leave me, Miles,” she said. “I need to think.”

Miles stood and sat his also full teacup on her desk. “Yes, General,” he said.

He left, but Olivier didn’t move. She stared at the cup of tea in her hands and glanced at the one on her desk. The last time she had tea with someone like this, both cups had ended up shattered, and her heart had as well. This time? This time she felt like something was also broken within her.

Was she a danger to the fort? Did she hate Drachma too much? Was her hatred centered on one man? Had this one man affected her so much? Was she currently unbalanced? Had she been unbalanced before? Was she justified in her actions? Were they over the top? And what was she to do about that man and Hoffer?

She closed her eyes and leaned on one hand. It was shaking. There were too many thoughts in her head now. Too many emotions swirling around. She couldn’t get a good grasp on anything. She needed to clear her head.

Leaving her tea next to Miles’ she stood. It would be dark out by now, but she that was of no consequence to her. She left her office, went to her quarters, and pulled out her skates. Making sure she was armed, just in case, she went down, heading out of the fort. The small lake they used for ice training was nearby, and with puffs of her breath visible in the cold, she made her way to it. She sat on a snowbank and removed her boots, replacing them with her skates. And then, under the brilliant stars and the dancing auroras, Olivier skated.

And for a few moments, at least, she felt peace.

#must-hate-dogs #writing #my writing #Verse: No Happy Endings #NHE Ficlet

[narcissasdaffodil]

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!

Thanks for the tag @kiki-the-creator ! I’m likely going to ramble, so bear with me! There’s multiple creations I haven’t put in the wild as of yet, so I’m just doing stuff I’ve posted on either here or A03.

1: Love Can Be Chosen

Before I started LCBC, unless you count the fic collab I’m part of, I hadn’t written any fanfic in 5 years. I started LCBC at the end of July, and teaching myself how to write properly again was difficult, along with writing in my natural style without being judged for that. I stopped writing entirely due to a high amount of people being very critical of my work to the point I lost the love for writing. I never thought I’d ever get back into it either, so this is a considerable surprise.

Just as I was going to post my first chapter of LCBC, someone I’d asked to read it for me was critical of it to the point that it seriously hurt, and it went past general consecutive criticism. Telling someone that their grammar is dreadful and there’s major errors without pointing to said errors is hardly useful! For 2 days, I toyed with whether to post it or not, or if they were actually right, and I should stop writing again. I pushed through that, as I refuse to let just one person have such an impact on me. Besides, it’s only an issue one person has, and I have multiple beta readers anyway. The fact I pushed through that makes me proud in general, as I proved both myself and that person wrong.

LCBC means the world to me as it helped me gain back my love of writing. I’ve come on a lot in nearly 5 months, and I’ve found myself writing more personal stuff to me. The fact it’s so big will always wow me, my doc for it currently stands at 166k, I affectionately nickname it my fic monster. I originally called it What’s a Soulmate?, then needed a better title. It was completely unplanned, I put my Spotify on shuffle, then Love Can Be Chosen played and I had a serious brainwave. People aren’t likely to know the song itself, but it’s by Avia Butler if you’re interested! I’ll ramble about it for ages if I let myself, so I’ll cut this here.

2: this Lottie edit

I hated this style of edit for a while, as people kept asking for these edits on my Instagram for other fandoms and literally nothing else, so I was a little fed up of doing the same thing. But it was different when I wanted to make an edit like that one myself, not having people be overly pushy rocks! I absolutely adore having control of what I edit.

3: Another Lottie edit

This one is a new style, but I really, really love it! My best stuff gets made when it’s me who wants it, I went through a period of creating just to get validation, and that was majorly shitty. My other favourite edit in this style hasn’t been posted yet, but for something made on a whim, it’s pretty good! I took a small break from editing and gave myself a talking to, basically told myself that it’s okay to make stuff you want, and not constantly concede to others, especially when the end product makes you feel worse about yourself. In addition, I no longer depend on creative pursuits for happiness, sure I enjoy it, but I don’t base everything about myself on my creative abilities.

4: this oneshot!

I was nervous to write this one, never having written hurt/comfort before. But I fell head over heels in love with the thing. Deciding to do Flufftober was an awesome decision, great job October me! I’ve tried out multiple types of fics I wouldn’t have otherwise, and found a new love for writing fluff.

5: Could You Be my Friend?

This oneshot took two goes. The first go was seriously dreadful, to the point that I was so angry at myself for 2 days straight, which isn’t healthy in the slightest! Anything that causes that much rage in me of all people isn’t a good thing. I stay far away from stuff that provoke my anxiety or anger in general. This one is a HP/LITG crossover, Harry Potter used to majorly be my thing years ago. It’s not as much now, for a multitude of reasons. Because of that also, the LITG/HP fic collab isn’t my thing as much anymore. But I had an itch to scratch regarding Marilecto and a HP au, so I took the prompt competition as the perfect excuse to just chuck it out there. Writing this one was so hard, but once I’d got halfway through my second oneshot, I was good.

6: Cold Coffee

This one was my first ever Marilecto oneshot, and my first oneshot in general, so it’s special for those reasons. I’ve likely written better stuff since, but that one was pretty special to me, as writing it proved to me I could write more than just chunky fics.

7: It Would’ve Been You

This one was part of my uni AU series. My flatmates have alternated between great and challenging, and a good way to not let it get me down was writing about bits and pieces of it!

8: Leftover Sweets

This one was super unexpected to say the least, but I actually love it. I wrote it in 2 hours between 1-3am one night and woke up confused as there was a random oneshot hanging out in my docs, and I didn’t remember writing it! It did scare me a little, but once I reread the thing, I realised I was actually pretty proud of it.

Okay, I’m tagging @lucas-koh @americangrunge, @venueska and @bubblybabynailpolish I have absolutely no clue who’s already done this, so if you want to, feel free to tag me! And if you’ve done it already, oops!

#tag games #Fave works of 2020

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 19

Previous: Harboring Hoseok 

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x OFC

Genre: Secret AgentAU, Government AgentAU

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: Codename Miss Cuttlefish plays double agent OR OT7 begins revealing their next plan. 

Codename: Miss Cuttlefish, If Ya Nasty

Present Day

           Sitting around the conference table at OT7 headquarters, the six agents listen and watch as Codename Miss Cuttlefish née Genevieve Yang, does her own song and dance. Daughter of operative Cuttlefish, she is trained in field work, and was pulled as a CI over three years ago when Codename Arrow joined the scope of the investigation. Hating to disappoint her mother, she reluctantly joined the mission and just prayed Codename Bow and Codename Arrow never said anything worthy of reporting.

           “She’s not an idiot, she has to know this is connected,” Yoongi remarks, eyes staring at Miss Cuttlefish as she engages with Codename Black Panther.

           “She hasn’t made the connection yet,” Namjoon answers.

           “Black Panther is starting to see a pattern, that’s the first step,” Hoseok adds.

           “I can’t believe you think we can keep this up,” Tiredly, Yoongi sighs.

           “Who said I thought we could keep this up? We cannot, in any realm, keep this going any longer. That’s part of the plan,” Namjoon responds.

           “How many steps are there to this plan?” Yoongi asks, he’s beyond burned out, drinking coffee by the liter, eating whatever fast food he could grab on his way home, knowing full well his roommates were riding the same bus. This is how Namjoon works, he reminds himself, to plan and over plan every step of a mission, only keying them in when necessary. This mission, it’s length, it’s breadth, had begun to wear them thin. You don’t spend half a decade on a project, and not count the months, weeks and days until you turn in your final paperwork. Yoongi, and the rest of OT7 could see the light at the end of the tunnel, the problem for Yoongi, was whether that light was hope, or the train itself.

           “It’s not like we’re withdrawing from Iran,” Seokjin states. “We just need to position her correctly in order for the rest of this to fall into place.”

           “Do you want me to actually give her the intel?” Miss Cuttlefish asks, muting the call while Black Panther speaks.

           “Tell her you’ll ask,” Namjoon directs.

           “Then what?”

           “Lie,” Yoongi shrugs.

           “She’s moving to search through his followers,” Seokjin says, changing the screen to a live shot of Black Panther’s computer screen. In his years with OT7, he’d picked up a few new skills, including coding. Though he preferred the monotony of financial records, tracing bank accounts and calling foreign ops, there was something a little thrilling about cloning a computer and observing the movements of its owner.

           “Everything’s in place?”

           “Yes,” Hoseok answers.

           “You made the right call,” Jimin tells Namjoon, his voice low as he looks at his leader.

           “Did I?” Namjoon asks softly, his uncertainty written in the dark bags decorating his under eye.

           “You’re exhausted, you can’t see the forest through the trees,” Jimin offers. “But you did, Taehyung and I know it wasn’t an easy decision to make.”

           “He already resents me.”

           “Why are you talking about Maknae?” Taehyung asks.

           Glancing over at him, Jimin answers, “RM’s worried about him,”

           “He’s at headquarters for the week?” Hoseok inquires.

           “Yes, some training,” Namjoon responds.

           “Hasn’t he perfected everything?” Yoongi snaps.

           “Sug-

           Miss Cuttlefish hangs up the phone abruptly and stares at the six men. “Did I get what you wanted?”

           “You did,” Namjoon snaps his attention away from his hyung, “we’ll monitor Black Panther over the next few days, thank you Miss Cuttlefish.”

           Genevieve stands, Taehyung following suit. “I’ll walk you out.”

           “You sure that’s all?” Jimin snickers. Taehyung’s cheeks flush, Miss Cuttlefish pinches them lightly before pressing her lips gently against the warm skin.

           “Do you want me to post more photos?” She asks Namjoon, eyes still on Taehyung’s.

           “Black Panther requested J-Hope, correct?”

           “Yes,” Jimin refreshes Hoseok’s page and stares at the pending follow.

           “What do we do?” Hoseok asks.  

           “We accept,” Yoongi answers.

           “Then what?”

           “We wait,” The finality of his words is met with his actions, and Namjoon doesn’t want any misinterpretation of his movements. He stands from the conference table before retreating into his office and closing the door. Dimming the lights and turning on low music, he tends to his Bonsais and other greenery, giving them a little attention before he extends on his couch. Namjoon wasn’t sure he was making the right decision; wasn’t sure he would be able to salvage whatever would be left after Codename Black Panther came to a head, or if he’d judged accurately. That’s the job of the boss though, isn’t it? He had to make the impossible decisions, the calls that no one else wanted to or could, the ones that decided the fate of a mission.

           Some decisions were easy, Taehyung ending his relationship and mission with Cupid had been a no brainer, a decision he knew the minute Tae scheduled the meeting. Using Hoseok in this pedestrian mission was a child’s play, Hobi had the charisma and added bonus of never being seen. He easily could’ve taken Jimin’s role, deftly swaying anyone he came in contact with into falling in love with him. He was precious, intelligent, compassionate and brilliant. Hoseok was always sidelined though because he couldn’t lie, couldn’t withhold, couldn’t tell when someone else was pulling the wool over his exuberant irises. In their early years, it made him a terrible mission lead, but in his forgery work, it made his attention to detail flawless. He had to be so careful, so delicate and exacting otherwise anyone would recognize the faux docs.

          Hoseok didn’t have to lie much when he was with Miss Cuttlefish, he could easily weave a tale of working in the fraud department of the FBI, craft old missions into new stories because Codename Bow had never heard them. Playing pretend with another operative was the only time Hoseok felt okay being in the field, he preferred to engage with his group of brothers and his CI’s, collaborating on best practices, creating new protocols for faking passports and White House Stationary.

          Other groups within the larger structure of OT7 often wondered why Hoseok and Jimin couldn’t trade, didn’t they have similar skill sets? The nuance of their performances, often lacking the pizazz older, retired agents recognized as skill, set the two apart. Both cunning and sly, charming and friendly, the two men knew they could never trade places, most importantly, Namjoon knew.  

           The problem arising in this mission, was the sole focus of the project itself. Black Panther presents an element none of them expected, or planned for, or even recognized was part of her personality. Black Panther is deft in her skills, easily adjusting to meet the demand, rising to every occasion and slightly careless in her protections. She’s easy to find, easy to follow, easy to gain access to in every way she boasts not to be. Namjoon couldn’t blame her, everyone was powerless to OT7, after all, that was their goal. No one was out of their reach, no one too far from their grasp regardless of their efforts. He knew it, and soon, she would too.

           The complications Black Panther brings to the table are unchallenged, a mountain none of them have yet climbed. Laying in his office, Namjoon wonders if it’s all worth it. If manipulating her will get them where they need to be, or if she’s better off being a casualty none of them blinks an eye over. He could always send Agust D to clean up the mess, but what would that solve? It’d just create another headache for him to manage and another member of his team to be angry with him. Breeding contempt was not his strong suit, but solving it was near impossible.

           “Joonie?” Hoseok asks, hand gently rapping the door.

           “Hm?” He offers in return.

           Poking his head in, Hoseok’s smile relaxes. “Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”

           “Depends, what are you making?”

           “Your favorite,” Hoseok chuckles, a welcome sound against the dull lull of the piano.

           “You won’t burn it?”

           “Seokjin’s going to help,”

           “What can go wrong? The two Seok’s battle it out, one too intense, the other too much of a culinary genius,”

           “I hope I’m the genius,” Hoseok says sitting down. “You’re welcome to stay the night too, I know how you get,”

           “I live in the apartment across from you, Hobi,” Namjoon’s eyes remain closed, his body moving on the couch to accommodate Hoseok.

           “I know,”

           “With Yoongi and Taehyung,”

           “I know,” Hoseok repeats.

           “I’m not lonely,”        

           “You can be in a crowded room and still feel isolated,”

           “I’m not isolated with Yoongi, we shared a room for years before moving across the hall,” Fluttering his eyes open, he stares at Hoseok’s worried expression.

           “Namjoon,” Hoseok’s eyes give way to the concern beating in his heart. “You’re stressed about something, you don’t have to tell me what, just walk the five paces from your place to ours and spend some time with us. We can watch whatever movie you want.”

           “You’re too good to me,” Namjoon offers a soft smile.

           “That’s because we’re family, Joonie,” Hoseok gives his hand a squeeze before walking towards the door. “Oh, and if you have Sprite, bring it.”

           “You have millions of dollars, buy more,” Namjoon laughs, eyes closing as he settles into the warmth of Hoseok’s generosity. “Will you wake me in twenty, please?”

           “Of course, Joon,” Hoseok gently shuts the door, leaving Namjoon to rest in the silence.

Next: Codename Black Panther

#clubjimin #houseofddaeng #BTS #BTS fanfic #BTS fan fic #codename #codename cupid #jeon jungkook #Jeon Jungkook fanfic #kim taehyung #Kim Taehyung / v #kim namjoon #kim namjoon / rm #min yoongi #Min Yoongi / agust d #Min Yoongi / suga #jung hoseok / j hope #jung hoseok #kim seokjin #park jimin #secret agent au #government agent au #BTS agent #thebtswritersclub #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bangtanarmynet

[motleyfuckingcruee]

Hey Jealousy (Vince Neil x reader)

Cool ! 😂😂 ok so this is the plot I hope you'll like it 

You're Vince's girlfriend and you go with him on tour and Guns N Roses are the first part of their show. On the tour, Axl and you became closer which actually turned Vince jealous. Axl and him fought on the tour because of you and once you and Vince came home, you fight and try desperately to explain that you're in love with him and not with Axl. He gets jealous and says how much he loves you and will die if you love someone else. You kiss him and show him how much you love him

Requested by @antheasnow (i'm so sorry it took me so long to write this!)

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST! OR GO TO MY BIO TO ADD YOURSELF TO ONE!

SONG THE TITLE IS BASED OFF OF:

Hey Jealousy

*GIF IS NOT MINE*

///

You smile as you watch your boyfriend run and jump all over the stage. He’s certainly got a lot of energy tonight. You hold your breath as Vince seems to almost trip over a chord for one of the amps, but he plays it off cool. You giggle to yourself. You’ve been with Vince for about a year now. You two are still inseparable.

“Hey (Y/N)!” You hear a cheery voice yell. You turn to the backstage area to see Steven, the drummer of Guns N’ Roses, sitting on one of the couches. “Come and join the fun! He’ll be off in a bit!”

You’re hesitant to leave your place. You know that Vince will have a cow if he can’t see you from the stage. He’s very protective and freaks when you leave his sight for even a moment. Once you went to the bathroom without telling him and he was screaming and yelling at everyone. It’s like he thought you were kidnapped or something. You decide to go join Guns, mostly because you’ve seen Mötley Crüe perform the same set so many times. You needed a change of pace. You walk over to the nearest couch, sitting down with a smile on your face. It just so happened that you sat next to Axl Rose.

Vince definitely was going to have hissy fit now. You and Axl grew rather close over the few months they’ve been on tour with the Crüe. You got tired of being by yourself when Vince would run off to party with Tommy and Nikki, so you made friends with Guns. They were rather quiet with it being their first tour and all. You don’t think they know how to act. Instead of going off to the nearest strip club or party, they stayed at the hotel in their little group. You and Axl just immediately clicked. Vince wasn’t happy about that. One day, Axl just said ‘Hi’ to you and Vince about beat him to a pulp!

You love Vince with all your heart, but his jealousy is getting out of hand.

“Hey, darlin’,” Axl greets you happily.

You smile at him. “Hey, Ax.” You look around to see what the other boys are doing. Your smile fades as a look of disgust covers your face. Steven, Duff, Slash, and Izzy are all snorting blow without any thought. Lots of it too. “Ugh,” You groan. You’d seen enough of this with the Crüe and it hurt to see your new friends to be doing it as well. Your eyes land back on Axl who’s smirking at you.

“You don’t like drugs, do you?” Axl asks, taking a drag from his cigarette.

You shake your head, “Not at all. I hate it. It hurts me to see you guys kill yourselves on purpose.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it,” Axl says thoughtfully. “It must be the ‘rockstar’ way.”

You shrug, frowning. “I guess, but I hate it. Once I tried to get Vince to get clean and he hated me for a good month.”

“How could he hate someone as beautiful as you?”

You blush, looking down at your lap. It’s no secret that Axl is very attractive. What with his sexy singing voice, gorgeous red hair, and pretty green eyes, how could a girl ever refuse him? The only downside to him is his temper.

You’d date him in another world. But in this one, Vince held your heart.

In a lot of ways, him and Vince are a lot alike. They both have tempers, really pretty hair and eyes, and are both the lead singers of their bands.

But you love Vince. You have since you met him three years ago.

“I think he was just really mad,” You respond, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “He got over it and was wanting to be around me again.”

“You know,” Axl says, leaning in really close. “If you were with me you wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

You smile kindly at him. “I love Vince. Nothing will change that. Axl, you’re a great guy and everything but-.”

Within a second, Axl is no longer beside me on the couch. I look behind me to see Vince beating the shit out of him.

“Oh God!” You yell, getting up. “Vinny, please stop! I’m begging you, stop!”

I try to go and pull Vince off of Axl, but a pair of strong arms hold me back. I look to see Nikki who has a smile on his face. No doubt he’s enjoying the fight. It’s been a while since there’s been drama on tour. And tonight’s the last night of the entire tour.

“Nikki, please let me go!” You scream over the other yelling going on. “Goddammit, let me go!”

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Nikki says into my ear. “But, Vince told me to never let you get in the middle of one of his fights.”

You watch in horror as Axl finally gains the upper ground. Axl punches Vince multiple times and you pray to whoever is above that you don’t hear a crunch. Vince would be even more pissed if Axl broke his nose. Vince manages to get back on top, punching Axl in the jaw multiple times. Finally Tommy and Mick are able to get a good hold on Vince. They pull him off of a beaten down Axl Rose. Vince doesn’t seem to have many injuries. Only a busted lip and black eye.

“Alright,” Doc says, not looking surprised at what just took place. “I think it’s time for all of us to head home.”

Everyone nods in agreement. Thank God you’re already in Los Angeles. A plane ride home with a pissed Vince would be agonizing. A drive home is torture enough.

You collect Vince and go outside to hail a taxi. The way home was agonizingly silent. The cab driver kept trying to make conversation, but Vince would snap at him. He seemed like a decent enough guy. We arrive home, neither you speaking a word as Vince unlocked the house to let you both inside.

You go up and take a shower, deciding that Vince just wanted some time alone. You can’t believe that Vince lost his shit like he did. Well, actually, never mind that thought. You can completely believe that he lost his shit. You hope that Axl was okay. Vince got multiple good hits on him.

Once you finish your shower and got dressed, you head down to the living room. You find Vince sitting on the couch with only the lamp on. Normally, he’d already have the television on. You sit down next to him, not sure what to say.

“Why the fuck would you even talk to him!” Vince snaps, his gaze on you.

You hate how much anger is in his eyes. You really didn’t mean any harm. You just wanted friends. “Because he’s my friend,” You answer quietly.

“He only wants to get into your fucking pants! God, you can be so fucking stupid sometimes. I bet you’ve already had sex with him, haven’t you!” Vince yells.

You flinch. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Well you two are just so fucking close! I wouldn’t be surprised!”

You sigh. “I just wanted people to hang out with while you were out doing God knows what with Nikki and Tommy.”

“Then you should’ve fucking went to Mick!”

“He was with Emi.”

“So? You could’ve kicked that bitch out! No one gives a shit about her!”

You frown. “If that’s how you talk about women, I’d hate to hear what you say about me.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You glare at him. “You obviously hate me at this point, Vince! Ever since I tried to help you get clean, you’ve hated me! I’ve done everything I fucking could to make you happy and yet you still pull this shit with me! Why don’t you just ask me to fucking leave already? That’s obviously what you want!”

Vince is speechless, his eyes wide. After a few moments, he recovers. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then why do you treat me like you do? You act like an overprotective boyfriend in front of everyone, but as soon as we’re alone you blame it all on me,” You say. You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Oh, babygirl,” Vince says, scooting over to where you are. He envelopes you in a hug. You cry into his chest, feeling helpless. “I don’t want you to leave. I’d be lost without you. I’ve just been on edge lately. I promise I’ll be better, okay?” He pulls back to look into your eyes. He wipes some tears off of your cheeks. He smiles gently. “I love you.”

You smile, the tears still falling. “I love you too,” You choke out.

“You better,” He winks. That’s the Vince you know and love. “Now, come on. I’m ready to sleep for three days.”

And with that he carried you to the bedroom.

///

TAGLIST:

All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel @charlyallise @lo-bells @lauravic @livingdeadharley @kawennote09 @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @hllywdwhre @abbysdogcollar @nikkisixxwiththebass @waywardprincess666 @tommyleeownsme  

@rock-n-roll-soul-frankie @unholy-brat @eak1996 @madsthegroupie @sinningsixx @Kissyourrosegoodbyemotley

Vince: @moon-beame @jjjjjjjoshdun @malibubarbievince @honestly-fuckme @julessworldd @ubernoxa

All Mötley: @rhyetaylor62 @kaitieskidmore1 @thecrue @reigns420 @rumoured-whispers

#classic rock #rocknroll #rockband #rock music #rock #motley crue #vince neil x reader #vince x reader #vince neil