#i’ll probably be second in command for pit next year

[chameleon3]

give me good get-to-know-you / icebreaker questions please!!!! nothing like “your favorite color” i need stuff like “everyone else has to decide what kind of animal you are”

[mywritesaremylove]

Shock to the System

Mark Sloan x Female Trauma Surgeon (OC) Post Season 5 of Grey's Anatomy

Mark Sloan wasn’t a believer in fate. He was a believer in lucky timing, a killer smile, and the power of a great suit.

And today? Today was definitely lucky.

The woman at the coffee cart was alone, tapping a manicured finger on her phone while waiting on what looked like the most unnecessarily complicated order he’d ever heard. Cinnamon? Oat milk? A caramel drizzle?

He grinned.

She had long blonde hair tucked half-heartedly into a claw clip, a soft, oversized sweater hanging off one shoulder, and legs for days beneath fitted slacks. She looked like a lifestyle blogger wandered onto the Seattle Grace campus by accident.

Definitely not a surgeon.

Which meant she was fair game.

Mark stepped up beside her, turning on the charm. “You know, if your coffee takes longer than an appendectomy to make, that’s how you know it’s not really coffee.”

She didn’t even look up. “Or maybe it’s just how you know it’ll be good.”

His grin widened.

“I’m Mark.”

That got her attention. She lifted her head and pinned him with wide blue eyes that sparkled like mischief and caffeine. “Oh,” she said sweetly. “One of those.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Those?”

“You know.” She waved her hand lazily. “The ‘I’m Mark’ types. Strong jaw, smug smile, charming in a you-know-you-are way. Probably a doctor. Plastic surgeon? Definitely not pediatrics.”

Mark actually laughed. “Wow. That was… a disturbingly accurate personality autopsy.”

“I watch a lot of Dateline,” she replied breezily, accepting her drink with a smile. “Thanks for the diagnosis, Dr. Mark. Enjoy your lukewarm, personality-free drip coffee.”

She walked off without a second glance, sipping like she won the war.

Mark stood there, stunned into something dangerously close to impressed.

When he walked into the attendings' lounge forty minutes later, Mark was still thinking about her. Her voice. Her sass. Her mouth. What that mouth would look like saying his name—under very different circumstances.

Then Owen Hunt came in behind him and said, “Dr. Sloan, this is Dr. Cameron Blake, our new trauma attending.”

Mark turned.

There she was.

The coffee cart woman.

In scrubs. Hair pulled back properly. Badge clipped to her top. Looking tiny next to Hunt, but standing with the confidence of someone who’d held a heart in her hands and told death to wait its turn.

Mark blinked. “You’re Dr. Blake?”

She smiled slowly, like she knew exactly what was happening in his head.

“I am. And you must be Dr. Mark.”

Owen looked between them. “You two know each other?”

Cameron—Dr. Blake—sipped her coffee with that same smug satisfaction. “Briefly. He made fun of my order. I destroyed his ego. It was very bonding.”

Mark opened his mouth, but Hunt clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Play nice. She’s got trauma experience from Mercy West, Hopkins, and two years with Doctors Without Borders.”

Then he left them alone, because Owen had the social skills of a brick.

Mark turned to her, arms crossed. “You could’ve told me you were a surgeon.”

“You could’ve not assumed I wasn’t.”

“Touche.”

He leaned against the counter, studying her. She was shorter than he’d realized, but she carried herself like someone who didn’t need height to be commanding. She had this deceptive sweetness to her face—big eyes, soft voice, a smile that made people underestimate her right before she metaphorically (or literally) elbowed them in the ribs.

It was a thing. And now it was his thing.

“So, trauma?” he asked.

“Yep. Bleeding, guts, adrenaline. All the good stuff.”

“I usually try to put people back together without the guts.”

“Let me guess—boobs and butts?”

“Faces too,” he said, mock-offended. “I’m an artist, not a perv.”

She laughed, and it was a real laugh. Not polite. Not condescending. Just surprised and warm.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Sloan.”

Over the next week, Mark tried to get her out of his head—and failed spectacularly.

She was everywhere. In the pit, calling trauma codes with blood on her gloves and fire in her voice. In the attendings’ lounge, stealing the last clean mug and grinning at him like it was a game. In the OR board, somehow already on everyone’s radar for being good.

Bailey liked her. Hunt respected her. Callie said, “She’s a chaos gremlin and I adore her.”

Meredith, of course, said, “She’s like if Izzie had Cristina’s backbone.”

And that was the thing—she was soft and sharp, pretty and ruthless, warm and smart enough to see through every line Mark tried.

She didn’t avoid him. But she didn’t fall for his usual flirt-and-flatter routine either.

And that just made him want her more.

It finally came to a head on a Thursday.

They were in an elevator, post-trauma, both covered in blood. He had a tear in his scrub top. She had a smear across her cheek she hadn’t noticed.

Mark looked over at her and said, “You’ve got something…”

She turned her cheek toward him automatically.

Instead of wiping it with a sleeve, he used his thumb, brushing the streak gently. Too gently. It lingered a second longer than it needed to.

Cameron blinked.

“…Thanks,” she said.

He didn’t move back.

“You’re dangerous, Dr. Blake.”

“I’ve heard.”

“You pretend to be all sunshine and cinnamon. But you’ve got knives in your smile.”

“And yet you keep showing up.”

“Maybe I like the danger.”

The elevator doors opened. She didn’t move.

Then she leaned closer, just an inch. Close enough that he could smell her—coffee, shampoo, and adrenaline.

“I’m not interested in being another name in your phone, Mark.”

“What if I said I want to learn your coffee order instead?”

She stepped out of the elevator, walking backward.

“Then I’d say I hope you like cinnamon oat milk with a caramel drizzle.”

She winked.

Mark stood there in the elevator, watching the doors close between them with the slow grin of a man who’d just found his favorite challenge.

[enchantedtomeetyou1113]

dancing with your ghost

levi x reader

hi! okay so this isn’t my first work but it’s my first in over 5 years. i guess aot brought out my old ways (pray for me 🙏🏻) this is just something stuck in my head inspired by the song ‘dancing with your ghost’ by Sasha alex sloan im sorry if this sucks 😔

SFW !!! 🤍🤍🤍

WARNINGS: angsty but happy ending! mentions of death. female reader!

———————————————————————

“Do you promise you’ll come back?”

“I already said yes 5 times.”

“Yeah but-“

“Y/n,calm down.”

I heard his sigh before I felt his hand on my shoulder. A small gesture that felt a lot bigger in the moment. “I promise I’ll try my hardest to come back.” His grey eyes locked on my own wide eyed stare.

“Fine,” I sigh deeply. Bringing my little finger up I feel a small smile creep onto my lips. “Solemnly swear it?” The look on Levi’s face turned into a stoic one. “I’m not pinky promising, what are you 5?”

“This is a deliciously Levi.” I grin twirling my pinky. He rolls his eyes before bringing up his own little finger to wrap around mine.

“I take this very seriously. Don’t you dare do something stupid and wind up dead out there.” My gaze turned serious one last time. The thought of him not coming back sent a shiver down my spine.

“Yeah yeah I heard you the last time.” He looks towards the rest of the scouts and the commander getting on their horses. I follow his gaze feeling uneasy. “I mean it Levi.” “I know.” “Then you better listen.” He flicks my forehead.

“Are you giving me orders?” I heard the amusement in his voice. I roll my eyes “better get going captain, they wouldn’t want their strongest soldier to be late.” I watch him nod before taking a few steps backwards. He holds up his pinky reminding me of our promise and before I know it I’m watching him ride off with the rest of the scouts.

So what? He’s only gonna be gone 2 weeks. It’s an easy mission right?

Right?

-

A month passed. One whole month. The scouts never arrived back. Some say the mission is just taking longer than they expected. Others say the mission probably failed and all scouts are dead somewhere.

Me? I spent the first 3 in a panic state. Everyone knew better then to mention the words ‘failed’ ‘missing ’ or ‘dead’ to me. I wouldn’t listen when they did anyways. I merely brushed it off and other times I yelled and told them off saying something along the lines of ‘you don’t know what you’re talking about!” And “You don’t know Levi,”

I spent the next 3 days staying up all night telling myself he’s alright.

On week two I was sleep deprived with bags under my eyes darker then the night sky I stay staring at until my body shuts down. I wake up after hours that feel like mere seconds. I can barely sleep with the thoughts racing in my mind. It feels like an eternity of worrying and fear. My friends all tried reassuring me and they checked on me enough times for me to get annoyed. Telling me stupid things like I should sleep more.

“Don’t worry okay? We know Levi he’s humanity’s strongest for a reason, and if I know that man he’d let the whole world be a snack for a titan before he gave up on coming back to you.” Hanges words helped. They did really, until I was alone. At night. In my bed staring at the ceiling. I wanted to scream at the world. ‘Heaven only knows where you are now’ I think to myself. Every passing minute the pit in my stomach grew and the pain grew sharper.

I stare at the walls. A new habit I picked up on day 3. I think to myself how my room is dirty and Levi wouldn’t approve or appreciate the lack of cleaning I’ve been doing. He’d probably flick my forehead and call me a ‘messy brat’ before sterilizing it for me and calling me hopeless under his breath.

“You pinky promised you jerk.” I say to the ceiling.

-

2 weeks easily turned into 2 months.

Easily is a weird way to put it considering it was the hardest 2 months of my damn life. I began having dreams. Detailed dreams that felt more real than any current reality. More real than any memory or waking moment. Dreams of him coming back. Embracing me telling me the mission took a turn and it lasted longer then it was supposed to. I wake up to those dreams with the biggest smile on my face every damn time.

Of course the smile turns into to tears and eye bags.

If I thought people were telling me to move on before then boy was i wrong. How do I let it go? Move on and forget him? How do I love again? How am I supposed to trust again?

I think about what I’d say to him if he appeared infront of me more then I’d like to admit. A lot of name calling. I’m planning on slapping him across his beautiful face. His face that I miss more than anything, his face I wish I could hold in my palm and smother in kisses.

But I guess that moment hasn’t come yet and I’m not sure anymore if it will.

People talk…they tell me I should focus on myself and other stupid things like he’s gone.

It was another slow week and I’ve gone too many sleepless nights staring at the same ceiling I can’t seem to look away from.

I heard a creek in the floor. The floorboard I always avoid because the sound is annoying and wakes Levi up at night. I look towards the sound and before I can open my mouth,

“Tch, did you forget how to clean while I was gone?”

My heart missed a beat. And then another.

“Levi?”

“You know anyone else who’d be this revolted by this mess?”

I stood up so quickly I felt dizzy.

“Where-where were you?! What took you so long-you jerk! I’ve been waiting! Everyone told me to move on and that you were dead! I knew it I knew you were-“

“It’s okay,” he stops me with his cold hand on my cheek. Despite the coldness of his finger tips it was the warmest touch I’ve ever felt.

“I’m okay. You’re okay. That’s all that matters I’ll tell you later.”

I nod reluctantly

-

we spent what felt like hours dancing. He spun me around enough times for me to feel dizzy. I couldn’t stop the endless giggles that caused me physical pain in my ribs and the smile that hurt my cheeks. We listened to the same songs on repeat on my record player.

I closed my eyes feeling the music and just letting myself be happy for the first time in ages as he spun me.

I open my eyes and blink a countless amount of times hoping the sight would change. Not this damn ceiling again.

Of course It was a dream, it always was. Dancing with your ghost..

-

I lost track of the time honestly I have. 4 months? 5? You’re a damn liar Levi Ackerman that’s all you are.

Even if you’re really gone I don’t care. I’m still your girl and everyone knows it-hange tried setting me up with someone a few times. I bet you could imagine how that went. ‘I’m taken.’

Stupid boys come up to me in teashops and in the streets with stupid one liners and stupid compliments and I tell them all the same thing. “My boyfriend’s waiting for me.”

It’s more like I’m waiting for my boyfriend..

And my friends talk, they always do.

‘Come on y/n you gotta move on!’

But it hurts to try.

It’s all stupid.

-

8 months pass. That ceiling is my new best friend and I appreciate it more than the real people in my life. The ceiling can’t tell me he’s gone. The ceiling can’t set me up on stupid dates and try and force me to sleep.

My heads always in the clouds and my dreams have gotten worse and end up with a bloody Levi and floods from my eyes.

I speak to myself pretending you can hear. Honestly I’ve started to believe you can. Sometimes I tell you about my shitty day or how I miss you, other times I scream about how you left me and how I hate you, but those times I end up begging for you to just come back already.

I don’t talk to my friends anymore, something about I only care about you and it’s exhausting dealing with me. Who cares I don’t need them,I only need you. Where are you?

-

“The scouts! They’re back!”

That bell. I know that bell.

“No way I thought they were all dead!”

“Is that captain Levi?!”

Whatever was in my hand now long gone in my path I barely felt the wind pushing me backwards as I ran towards the yelling.

And I seen him. The real him after all this time after all those dreams after the stupid remarks from my stupid friends after all the prayers and all the tears.

“Levi!” My voice sounded a lot more shaky than it did in my head.

I seen him on his horse. It don’t matter if he was a little farther back I seen it.

He wiggled his pinky.

———————————————————————-

A/n Pls don’t ask me where the scouts went for 8 months i literally don’t know just pretend and pretend i know how to write while your at it 🥰

Thank you for reading <3

[blu-joons]

Our Little Girl ~ Jeon Jungkook

Pairing: Expecting Dad!Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Slightly descriptive pregnancy, labour and birth

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Your little girl has been what the two of you have dreamt of for so long, finally the time has come to welcome her into the world with Jungkook by your side.

“You know, for a man that’s about to raise a daughter for the next eighteen years at least, you’re looking rather cocky.”

Jungkook could only smile from the other side of the room as a grimace danced upon your face at the feeling of another contraction hitting you. You’d lost count of the hours you’d been almost doubled over in bed some time ago, barely able to keep your eyes open at the excruciating pain that you found yourself in. With each passing breath, the gaps of relief that came between contractions became smaller and smaller, almost unbearable.

You’d watched plenty of documentaries before your pregnancy to know what to expect, and yet as you found yourself staring forwards at the figure of your husband, keeping his distance from your growing temper, none of what you saw on the television seemed to play out before you. Under watery eyes, you could just make out the time on the clock hanging just above Jungkook’s head, 3:15am.  You scoffed at the sight, doubting even in yourself how much longer you could go through such an ordeal. Despite the several months you’d had to lead up to this moment, not a single part of it could truly prepare you for what was to come.

As another struck against the pit of your stomach, Jungkook raced back across to your side, resting his hands over your reddened ones that gripped tightly onto the rails beside your bed. Murmurs of encouragement came from him, words you’d listened to him repeat for countless hours, and still each time they somehow managed to make your heart a little bit happier. As he counted you through the breaths to see you through, his free hand brushed over your hair, ignoring the beads of sweat that had formed in your hairline as best as he possibly could, focusing on the task at hand and being the best possible husband instead.

“You’re doing so incredibly well,” he whispered as he noticed that the pain was beginning to subside once again, offering you the best possibly smile he could muster, hiding his own feelings of exhaustion that were beginning to come through. Your head nodded, tilting slightly to the left, biting down on your bottom lip until you were sure that the contraction had subsided. A small wriggle from your little one let you know they were done for the time being, waiting patiently, or impatiently, to make their grand entrance.

“You’re getting close now,” your midwife called out, stood in the doorway, keeping an eye on the corridor as she had done for most of the evening, and night. “I must admit, I’ve not seen many women get through labour as well as you have for quite some time Y/N.”

“I’m not really left with much of an alternative to get through it right now,” you sighed, throwing your body back against the bed, allowing the sweat ridden sheets to wrap around you. The end never seemed to quite be in sight, no matter how many times her cheery voice suggested otherwise. In fact, if Jisoo wasn’t quite such a sweetheart, you’d have probably given her what for a long time ago with all of her reassurances.

“She’s a strong girl, I always told you that,” Jungkook whispered from the side of you, grinning proudly across at the elder woman. “So strong I think I might end up having to take up one of your beds soon with a couple of broken knuckles, are women supposed to squeeze this hard when they’re in labour?”

Jisoo’s head nodded, having told you about her four kids several times throughout the night, she had experience on both sides. She’d seen it all, broken hands, broken noses, but best of all, hundreds of humans enter the world.  

“Y/N you do what you want, ignore your husband,” she teased.

Once again, your head could only manage a nod, too consumed by the everchanging feelings that were going on around your bump to truly pay much attention to what was being said around you. The beep of the heart monitor, murmurs of passers-by, shrieks of other women in the ward all seemed to amalgamate into one at this point.

“I don’t think we’ll have to wait around much longer for baby to arrive,” she advised the two of you, “but things are only going to get worse, are you sure that I can’t get you anything?”

“No,” you muttered, despite a concerned Jungkook looking down at your tired figure, “I said that I was going to try and do this naturally, and until I can’t take it anymore, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“No one would think any less of you if you wanted an epidural,” Jungkook reminded you, moving his hand back across to rest over your now much calmer one. “Or maybe gas if you’re not feeling a needle? We saw it on that programme, remember?”

“We spent an hour laughing at a woman too high to even push,” you scolded, shaking your head at the memory. It had tickled you at the time, but the more you thought about not being able to remember your baby’s birth like she had, the more off-putting it became.

“It’s all here just in case,” Jisoo spoke up anyway, pointing across to a small table that was at the back of the delivery room, “too many women change their minds last minute and then we have to leap into action with it all.”

“I bet you might end up having another case like that, she’s a stubborn one,” Jungkook joked.

“Excuse me, I’ll have you- “

You were cut off by another pain stabbing against your side, hurling your body forwards, instantly gripping tighter onto Jungkook’s hand, causing him to yelp. He sat further up in his seat, throwing his free arm around your back, tracing circles against the exposed bit of skin your hospital gown showed off. Your body didn’t have much time to react, snapping your eyes around to look at Jungkook, searching for any bit of help he could offer. Instead, he could only stare helplessly back at you, there was nothing that he could do to truly take away your pain, nothing that would make the experience better for you in that moment, instead all he could promise was to be the best possible father and husband once your little girl eventually decided to come into the world.

As the pain fell aside once again, you leant across to rest against Jungkook’s shoulder, soaking his grey tee, not that he minded, pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

“So strong,” he whispered against your skin, as he had done tens, if not hundreds of times since your water broke in the very early hours of the previous day.

“I feel so weak,” you hummed in response to him, loosening your grip against his hand once again, holding onto only his index finger, admiring the tattoos that he wore so proudly. “I always thought I was strong Kook, but even this might be too much for me.”

His head shook instantly at your words, searching across to Jisoo for a small piece of reassurance that could remind you how good of a job you were doing in delivering your miracle.

“Soon,” her voice called out, although it wasn’t much, it was a small bit of hope that you could hold onto that your ordeal would be done soon. You adored Jungkook, but the calls of the professional who had taken such good care of you made you feel a lot better in an instant.

“Soon,” Jungkook reiterated, tightening the hold that he had around your waist, inviting you to relax into his side as opposed to the bed that you’d been on for hours. “This will all be worth it; you just have to remember that through the hard times.”

Another hum came from you, tracing aimlessly against his calloused skin. “I wish it was as easy for me to believe that as it is for you to say it right now.”

“Y/N,” he whispered, kissing against your forehead once again, “please don’t start giving up on any of this right now.”

“I’m just tired,” you whined, fighting the urge to give your eyes even a second to close out of fear of what might happen if you did. “Every part of me is so tired right now.”

“I get it,” Jungkook assured you, refusing to let you go through the fight alone, “I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this is for you right now my love.”

“Are you sure it’s too late for us to swap positions?” You joked, trying to remove the negativity that ran through your mind, “I think you’d love to be in labour secretly.”

“You know I would if I could, in a heartbeat,” he sniggered, raising his free hand up innocently, “it’s just such a shame that you’re the one that’s got to go through this. Trust me though, it’s not easy being a spectator, seeing you in so much pain is breaking my heart, I can only watch in awe of what an incredible woman you are.”

“You’ve got a good one there, Y/N,” Jisoo called out as she busied herself in the room, paperwork in hand, unable to stop herself tuning into your conversation. “You’d be surprised how many husbands sit back and relax during a time like this.”

“See, you’ve got a good one,” Jungkook continued to joke, tapping lightly against your arm, “can I get that in writing to remind her of this when this is all over?”

“I can change my mind,” Jisoo responded, drawing a light giggle out of you as the two of them continued to exchange innocent threats for a few minutes, until you chose to interrupt.

The mood of the room instantly turned sombre as a loud groan came from you, leaning forwards once again, breathing under the command of your husband. Whilst Jisoo continued to notice how much quicker your contractions came, Jungkook was solely focused on you, counting each time, resting his hands where you needed them, offering his shoulder back for you to rest on as soon as the contraction finished once again.

“I think I’ve decided something,” you whispered across to Jungkook once you’d caught your breath, “we are definitely only having the one child.”

“But I thought we agreed on an army,” he smirked, earning himself a slap against the bicep from you, although with your strength, the strike was pretty weak, even by your own high standards. Still, Jungkook grabbed at his arm, gasping at the sudden strength that had come over you. “Jisoo will tell you, I bet loads of women say that, but once they remember how sexy their husbands are, a quick trip to the bedroom, and suddenly baby number two comes along.”

“Have you ever met a man who makes sex sound so unappealing?” You asked Jisoo before she even had the time to respond to Jungkook’s comment. “It’s rather confident of you to assume that you’re that sexy anyway.”

Rather than answer either of you, Jisoo made her way across to you, asking Jungkook to give the two of you a bit of space as she checked how far dilated you were. You’d counted down almost every single centimetre, as if your little girl enjoyed teasing you before she was even a part of your world. Each time you hoped for the magic number, but each time Jisoo had muttered something else. You’d almost lost onto your last stretch of hope, that was until you looked across, noticing a wry smile etched across her face.

Before she even said the words, you knew exactly what the smile meant. As if your contractions hadn’t made things obvious enough, the expression on her face was the final touch you needed to know that at last that end was somewhat in sight. Once she called Jungkook back across to your side, his eyes locked with yours, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile, extending his arm out for your hand to intertwine with his. The relief was clear on your face, and in your hold, your body was in turmoil, but now it seemed as if you could finally begin to settle.

You were all too aware that there was a long road ahead of you, but just the thought of pushing appealed to your body and every part of you that was crying out for a rest.

“Ten centimetres,” Jungkook whispered beside you, “I bet that feels pretty good.”

“It feels pretty good,” you smirked, keeping your eyes on him as he sat back down in the chair at your bedside. “I had no idea the body could stretch as big as this, it’s surreal.”

Although he hadn’t taken too close of a look at everything that was going on at the foot of your bed, Jungkook had done enough research to know just how your body was changing. From the very first sign of a bump, Jungkook had waited impatiently for the moment that he finally got to see your little girl come into the world, the final change that would complete what the two of you had dreamt of for so many months.

“I love you,” his voice then whispered, just as your eyes looked away from his and down to your bump, “and our baby, I love our baby too.”

“I love you too,” you smiled, quickly looking back at him, “our little one is the luckiest girl in the world to have you.”

What came over the next few minutes felt like a blur to you, several instructions were sent your way, your body reshuffled with your legs propped up, pillows placed behind your back, and a towel dabbed against your head, but one thing remained, the hold of Jungkook’s hand tightly against yours, refusing to leave your side as the first few pushes began.

“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, just after the first few. You’d hoped for some sort of immediate impact, but your baby made no sign of movement instead. If you hadn’t spent hours laid in the hospital bed, you would have given up there and then, but there was one man that was never going to let you do that.

“Patience,” was all that Jungkook had to say, desperate to try and calm you down as he noticed how flustered you became. His hands pressed against your red cheeks before wiping underneath your watery eyes, failing to withhold the pressures that were placed before you.

Whilst labour was never something you expected to be a walk in the park, you could never have prepared yourself for the overwhelming feelings of pain that you’d end up enduring throughout your labour.

“If I push one more time, my body is going to cave,” you admitted, leaning against the cold metal of the rail against the bed. Jungkook’s head instantly shook, moving his arm around you to pick you back up, holding your back against the palm of his large hand.

“You’re far too strong to give up now,” he smiled, standing up from his chair to press a kiss against the side of your head, “there’s still pain relief if you want it, no one is going to think any less of you if that’s what you choose to do,” he reminded you once again, but still your head shook, you’d had plans for how your labour was going to go, and a natural birth was always top of your list of things that you wanted to see through. “Just hold my hand, and don’t break any of my bones and I promise that we’ll get through this together.”

Your eyes rolled at his warning, pinching especially hard against his hand to keep him on his toes, and make sure that he kept his mouth shut too.

“I’m only messing with you,” he whimpered, shaking at your hand for you to loosen your grip around him. “Just try and keep positive babe, we’ve jumped over too many hurdles over the past day to give up now. This one might just be a little bit bigger, but I know more than anything else in the world that you’re going to get over it.”

Your eyelids slowly fluttered shut, letting go of a shaky breath in the hope that it would keep you so composed. Rather than focus on the pain that came from your bump, your mind focused on the traces that Jungkook ran along the back of your hand, just like you’d done against his only a couple of hours ago.

“I just want to hold her and be done with this,” you continued to vent, opening your eyes back up, flinching slightly at the bright lights that came from all four corners of the room you’d somehow ended up calling home.

“I mean it when I say not much longer this time,” Jisoo smiled from the foot of the bed, perched on a stool, keeping a close eye on proceedings. “It’s natural to feel like you want to throw in the towel, there’s often a bit of a wait between dilation and pushing, not feeling anything can sometimes feel worse than the pain of a contraction.”

“You’re spot on,” you responded, forcing the smallest of smiles to your face, hearing a gentle giggle come from Jungkook. “At least the pain let me know that she was definitely moving.”

As if on cue, your baby began to make her presence known again, with Jungkook rising to his feet once again when he noticed how quickly you shot forwards. His arm reached out across your chest to stop you moving too far forwards, just as Jisoo had advised.

Something about this contraction just felt different for you though, as if your little girl was giving you a sign that she really was on her way. Although you couldn’t feel her drop, the pain certainly did. The smile on your face instantly captured Jungkook’s attention, unsure if he should worry, or be pleased to see a sign of happiness in your expression.

“I can feel her,” you whispered across to him before he even had the chance to ask, “it’s like she’s letting me know she’s on her way Kook.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He anxiously queried, looking across to Jisoo who’s head nodded. “She really is on her way, our little girl.”

“Our little girl,” you repeated, feeling his hands press to either side of your face, just managing to press the softest of kisses against your puckered lips before another contraction hit. His left arm instantly moved around your waist as his right hand held onto yours, it had become second nature for Jungkook now to step each time that your body called out for him, a murmur of his name was all that he needed to know exactly what you wanted from him, and as another contraction passed, he was relieved when he could sit back down again.

As soon as it passed, both you and Jungkook stared across to Jisoo, desperate for any sort of update she had on how things were going.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” she assured you, “plenty of pushes coming up Y/N.”

“R-really?”

“Hey,” a deep voice whispered beside you, brushing his thumb back across the pad of your hand, drawing your eyes across to him with the sound of your voice. “It’s going to be alright, we’ve talked about all of this, the two of us are here, and very soon our little girl will be here soon, remember why you’re doing this Y/N.”

“Pushing feels so real,” you slightly chuckled, feeling the beat of your heart quicken in your chest, “are you sure it’s really time to push?”

“Absolutely,” a cheery Jisoo smiled from the foot of the bed, repositioning your legs slightly so that you were a little more stretched out. “When the next contraction comes, I want you to take a big deep breath, and then lots of little pushes, let your body guide you rather than you guide your body. Listen to my voice, and most of all, listen to Jungkook too, he sounds like he has all the right things to say to you.”

“That’s exactly how we got into this position,” you sighed, shooting a glare in his direction.

“Unfortunately, it’s exactly how you’re going to get out of this position too,” Jisoo grinned, shaking her head as Jungkook leaned forwards to try and give her a high five. “Just support your wife,” she smiled, “I’ve spent less then a day with this guy and I’m struggling to see how you’ve managed to put up with him for so many years.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” you called out, just as another contraction came. The mutters of ‘push,’ that came from both of the people beside you instantly set your body in motion, clutching tightly onto the rail, and Jungkook’s hand as you tried to push down as best as you could, grimacing at the pain.

By the time the contraction had passed, you could feel how quickly your bottom lip was beginning to swell, pouting across at Jungkook, who was unable to hide his surprise when he noticed how red your lip was.

“Still beautiful,” he complimented, leaning forwards once again to press a kiss against the reddened skin, “and so strong too. Who knew I managed to marry such a strong woman?” He questioned, receiving no answer from either of you. It came as little surprise to him, instead he grabbed the towel that was beside him and dabbed it gently over your forehead, and your lip too, trying to make the swelling as minimal as possible before you bit down again.

As another contraction soon came around, you couldn’t quite get your head around at how surreal it was suddenly all becoming. You’d sat with your little girl nested in your tummy for two days short of nine months, and now you could slowly feel her making her way down to enter the world. All of the fears and the doubts that you’d had about labour had been torn apart, your dreams had been blown so far out of proportion, no part of what you were doing felt real anymore. But for the two of you, it felt like the best, and worst, experience in the world, the pain had been hard, but slowly it was beginning to feel as if it was worth it for you both.

When the next contraction came around, the sound of Jisoo’s voice stopped you from biting down on your bottom lip, feeling her hand move a little further up your leg, carefully pushing your legs a little further apart, surprising even you by how flexible you suddenly were.

“I can feel something,” you nervously whispered, looking across to Jungkook who was trying to get the best look he could at what was going on from beside you.

“No need to worry,” Jisoo instantly replied to you, “but I can definitely see the first signs of your little girl.”

“Really?” You chuckled, feeling Jungkook’s head turn to look back across at you. His eyes looked at you for permission, as your head slowly nodded, encouraging him to stand up from his seat and walk across, peering over your leg to where the first sightings of your little one’s head could be seen. A quiet gasp came from Jungkook, squeezing gently against your hand, feeling his eyes watering at the sight before him.

“She already looks beautiful,” he whispered up to you, “I can’t believe she’s all ours Y/N.”

“I wish I could see,” you chuckled, trying your hardest to look past your bump, but failing with ease. You couldn’t help but laugh, remembering all the times you’d failed to see your feet, or bend down to change your shoes, only now, at the most important time, your bump had stopped you from getting your first glimpse of your little girl. A small part of you couldn’t help but be slightly envious that Jungkook had such a clear view from beside you of everything that was going on.

However, as soon as your next contraction hit, Jungkook’s attentions were turned straight back to you, sitting back down in a heartbeat as more encouraging whispers came from him. He’d never told you how proud and how in love he was with you than he had done today, but he also knew he could never love you more than the moment you brought his child into the world.

The late nights, early mornings, and everything that came in between during your pregnancy had been hard on you both, but everything that you needed from Jungkook, he did with a smile. He could never appreciate enough how incredible your body was to carry his little girl, to nurture her so perfectly and give her such good health. There was simply never going to be enough that he could do to repay you for everything that you’d given him over the last nine months, and for the rest of his life too.

“Y/N, keep pushing!” Jisoo’s voice called out, snapping you out of the small daydream that you found yourself in. By the sound of her voice, you knew that something significant was happening, with adrenaline the only thing keeping you going, you did as she said, pushing as hard as you could, paying close attention to the sound of Jungkook’s voice, the only thing that had kept you going through out.

“She’s coming,” he whispered, flickering his eyes between you and your baby, noticing how quickly she seemed to be arriving. Your head nodded, repeating his words over and over again in your head, the only boost of motivation that you needed to dig in to somewhere you didn’t know you had, using up every last ounce of energy that you possibly could.

“Kook,” you whimpered, as you felt the contraction begin to collapse again.

“Just one more,” Jisoo then called out.

“You can do it,” he urged, leaning closer in towards you.

Although your head shook, your body still pushed, and soon the cries of your little girl could be heard ringing throughout the room, as tears fell from both yours and Jungkook’s eyes, feeling his hand slip out of yours so that you could collapse down against the bed.

“I love you, you’re incredible,” he chimed, giving you a moment before leaning over you, brushing the hair out of your face, coupled with a lingering kiss against your forehead, ignoring the droplets of tears that fell from his cheeks against your own. “She’s here Y/N.”

In just a matter of moments, Jungkook moves away from your side, replaced with your little girl settling against your bare chest, with Jisoo dabbing away at her to remove the markings of blood, stretching out of her limbs and making sure to clear out her airways.

As your eyes looked down at her for the very first time, your breath was taken by what was before you. “Wow,” was all you could whisper as you studied every fine detail of the bundle you held tightly against your chest. “Look at you,” you soon added, sniffling back the tears that fell.

Jungkook’s hand reached across, wiping underneath your eyes, perching himself on the end of his bed. He used the tip of his thumb to trace over the top of her head, feeling along her arms, staring in awe of how tiny each digit of her hand was. Neither of you could look away from her, all expectation you had had been succeeded, unable to comprehend what you had just endured.

“Our little girl,” Jungkook whispered, leaving a kiss against the top of your head with his words. It had been the saying you’d had for her since the moment you found out it was a girl that you were expecting, and yet somehow neither of you could correlate that the little girl you’d wished for was finally in front of you both.

“Congratulations,” Jisoo spoke after a few moments, scribbling down on some papers attached to her clipboard. “I’ll give you both a second to adjust, you’re new parents after all.”

“We’re parents,” Jungkook muttered in a moment of disbelief, continuing to stare wide-eyed at your daughter, silently reiterating the promises he’d made to her most nights when he laid beside your bump, trying to help you get to sleep. Although she was still attached to you for a moment through the umbilical cord, his body was itching to get his first hold of his little girl, feel the body and the heart he was going to protect for the rest of his life. “Thank you,” he whispered across to you once he finally looked away from her, “it’s never going to be enough, but thank you for being so strong, and for being the best wife, and mum in the world.”

“How can you say that when I’ve only been a mum for five minutes?” You teased, bringing a smile to Jungkook’s face. His eyes rolled at the chuckle that followed your question, knowing if it wasn’t for your little one, he’d be attacking your side in an instant.

“I just know, call it instinct,” he assured you, “and I’m going to make sure that this little girl knows what a special mummy she’s got to. I’ll never let her take you for granted, just like I never will, ever again. I’m in your debt forever, nothing can make up for all of this.”

“You know, we can’t call her our little girl forever,” you hummed, noticing how quickly Jungkook’s eyes lit up at the mention of her name. Several had been exchanged between the two of you, and yet one always seemed to stand out to you both, almost as if it was just meant to be, her name was her destiny.

“Is it still the one that you want?” Jungkook asked, making sure you didn’t have any doubts.

“Just looking at her, she suits it,” you hummed, taking any excuse that you could to get a glance of your daughter. “Don’t you think, it’s perfect for her?”

Jungkook’s head nodded, leaning across your body to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head, treating her as if she was the most delicate thing in the world. As her name fell from his lips for the very first time, Jungkook knew you were right, it was perfect for her, and the perfect name to complete your family too.

“Can you believe we have her forever?” You asked him, brushing your thumb over the top of her head, “we don’t ever have to give this one back, or keep her only for a night. We never have to let her go, she’s ours, always.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever believe that I’ve been so blessed with the two of you,” he giggled in his confession, “every day, my little girl, and my incredible wife, I will love you.”

“She’ll have you wrapped around her finger in no time, I bet,” you laughed, “if she’s anything like you, we might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now, because she’ll be causing trouble in no time.”

“I hope she takes after you,” Jungkook acknowledged, staring back at you, “everyone will fall in love with her, just like I did with you.”

“Do you still love me after I almost broke your hand?” You teased, staring across at his still slightly reddened hand.

“Y/N, I have never loved you more than I do right now, and I’ll love you more and more every day. You’ve given me the greatest gift, love just isn’t enough.”

“We love you too,” you smiled across to him, feeling his lips peck against yours.

“I’ll never tire of hearing that.”

---

Masterlist

[cafeacademic]

omg congrats on your milestone!!!! here’s to many more *clink clink*,,, anyways i loVED YOUR ‘off the record’ with fox, and i’m a s1ut for him sOOO maybe prompt 31? f/gn!reader is cool!!

Fox sluts unite I love that man so much. here is some pure smut for our man because he deserves some time off and a bunch of smooches. hope you enjoy my lovely thank you for all your support <33

also i saw that you were working on a new fox thing as well very excited for that👀👀

On Background

click above for AO3 link

Pairing: Fox x Reader

Rating: Explicit (You know the drill)

Warnings: PiV sex, oral sex (m receiving), orgasm denial, teasing, semi-public sex, some objectification of reader (but it's pretty tame)

Word Count: 2.2k

When Fox stumbled into your apartment one night, the first thing he saw was you slamming the door to your closet closed.

“You alright, princess?” he asked warily. He rolled his neck as he removed his bucket, trying to ease some of the tension of the day.

“Yep!” you said a little too eagerly. Fox closed the gap between the two of you, lifting your chin with his forefinger. You looked up at him innocently.

“What are you hiding?” he teased. Leaning into his touch, you smirked.

“Oh, just work stuff. Wouldn’t want to bore you,” you said. Fox narrowed his eyes but didn’t press you further. “Are you working the Chancellor’s speech tomorrow?”

“Don’t remind me,” Fox groaned. The Chancellor’s annual speech was never a fun night for the Guard; they often had to arrive early to help set up, listening to Palpatine fuss for several hours before the actual main event. If that wasn’t already draining, they often had to hear faux praise from the various elites that attended the event, though they knew that most considered them less than human. Sensing that Fox was getting lost in his thoughts, you reached up to plant a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“I’ll make sure to stop by then,” you said, snuggling into his hold. Fox rested his chin on the top of your head, enjoying the feeling of being held.

~~~

The next day, Fox was running around, trying to ensure that everything was set up for the Chancellor’s speech, at least security-wise. In between pretending to listen to the demands of Palpatine and downing cups of caf from the break room, he would respond to the silly comms you would send him. On typical days, you would complain about your coworkers or send him pictures of cute lothcats you saw on the holonet. Today, however, your messages were suspiciously short.

“Miss you xoxo,” your last message read. That had been nearly two hours ago, and Fox hadn’t heard from you since. It was probably for the best, considering how much work he had to do, but it still hurt a bit.

“Are you stopping by?” he tapped out a message to you. A few minutes later, his commlink buzzed.

“Something came up. Have to take the time to get ready for a work thing tonight,” you replied. Normally, Fox would have sulked at the fact that you couldn’t visit, but he was instead intrigued by the fact that you had followed up your message with a photo attachment.

He nearly dropped the comm when he opened the picture. You were laid out on your bed, crisp white blouse unbuttoned and falling off your shoulder. A thin, lacy bra covered your chest, the material a perfect Corrie Guard red. At the very bottom of the photo, Fox could see that your skirt was hiked up over your hips, allowing just a glimpse of the matching panties.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he typed back. He could imagine you smirking down at your comm as you tapped out a response, the image only making his half-hard cock press even tighter against his codpiece. A soft buzz alerted him to your response.

“Is it a good look? I’ve been told that we’re supposed to dress nicely for the Chancellor’s speech. Wouldn’t want to make a poor impression on my first time covering the event,”

Fox nearly groaned out loud; there would be no way he could concentrate if you were going to be at the speech tonight. All he would be able to think about would be how badly he needed to see you in the pretty lingerie you were wearing.

“You better behave tonight,” Fox responded. It was only a few seconds before your reply came.

“But where’s the fun in that, Commander?”

This time, Fox did groan out loud.

By two minutes into the Chancellor’s speech, Fox was already bored out of his mind. Instead of being on alert for attempted assassinations as Palpatine had requested, his eyes were scanning the crowd for you. The general comm chatter from his brothers had become a background hum as he searched for your telltale white blouse.

When he finally found you, he was almost embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed you sooner. You were sitting in the press box near the front, near enough that you could pick up all the details of the speech but out of the way enough that the Chancellor couldn’t see you. As if you could feel his gaze, your eyes immediately snapped to Fox’s visor. You bit your lip teasingly as you toyed with the top button of your blouse. Fox straightened his posture, hoping to convey as much warning as he could with just his body language. You either didn’t notice or didn’t care; likely the latter, seeing as you popped the button with ease and pulled your neckline open slightly, revealing just the top of the lace covering your breasts.

“Hey Fox, you see that girl in the press pit?” Thire’s voice cut through the comm chatter that Fox had blocked out. Thire’s comment, however, snapped him right back to his senses.

“What about her?” Fox snapped back a little too defensively.

“She’s cute, isn’t she? Keeps toying with the hem of her skirt,” Thire commented. Fox bit his tongue to keep from snapping at his brother.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind tearing that skirt off of her!” Hound added with a snort. Thire hummed in agreement. Before Fox could start yelling at his brothers, Thorn cut into the conversation.

“Hey, vod? I think that’s the Commander’s girl,” he said warily. Thorn was the only one Fox had confided in about his newfound relationship, and that was mostly because he had heard the two of you going at it in Fox’s office. A number of curses poured over the comm, and Fox smirked at the panicked apologies his brothers gave.

Turning his attention back to you, Fox noted that the second button on your blouse had also come undone. The crimson lace was now peeking prominently through your neckline, and you had a smirk plastered on your face. With a wink, you spread your legs in your chair slightly, allowing Fox a glimpse of your panties.

Faking an important message, Fox pulled out his comm and quickly tapped out a warning: “Keep that up and you’re not going to like your punishment,”

You checked your comm and responded quickly, still smirking. “Aww, can’t handle a little teasing?”

Fox growled quietly under his helmet. Just as he was about to type out a message back, he was roused from his thoughts by thunderous applause, signaling that the Chancellor had finished speaking. Mentally, Fox made a note to thank Palpatine for keeping it short this year. As soon as he was off the stage, he sent you a quick message. “My office. Now.”

You were already sitting on his desk when Fox entered his office, swinging your legs innocently.

“Fucking finally! I’ve been trying to get you alone all night!” you said, hopping off the desk and reaching for your lover. Before you could get to him, however, Fox scooped you up in his arms and pressed your back against the wall.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” he growled, voice still modulated by his helmet. You smirked up at him.

“What, you didn’t like my little show? I got all dressed up for you and everything!” you pouted, reaching to take off Fox’s helmet. His hand shot out and gripped your wrist before you could touch him.

“No way, sweetheart,” he said, grinding against you. “You’re not getting away with teasing me that easily,”

Holding you steady against the wall with his hips, he ripped your shirt in two, the remaining buttons flying around the room. He could still feel the heat of your breasts, even through his gloves. You squealed as he pinched your nipple through your bra, admiring how the bud peaked through the red lace. In the back of his mind, Fox worried that he was being too rough with you, that you might not like how he was touching you. His worries were calmed, however, when he saw the absolutely delighted look on your face as you squirmed out of his grasp and sank to your knees.

“Can I please suck your cock, Commander?” you batted your eyelashes. Fox nodded and you launched for his codpiece, getting the armor off in record time. You grinned devilishly at him as you pulled his cock out of his blacks, the tip already flushed a rosy brown and a bead of precum leaking from the tip. When you licked teasingly up the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock, Fox reached out to roughly tangle his fingers in your hair.

“Don’t tease. You’re in enough trouble as it is,” he warned. You obliged, taking him all the way down your throat in one motion. Fox swore loudly, trying to keep from bucking into your mouth. You worked what you couldn’t reach with your hand, twisting your wrist to spread the saliva that was slicking his cock. When Fox’s grip on your hair tightened, you pulled off of him with a pop.

“Was that what you wanted, sir?” you teased. Before Fox could scold you, his words caught in his chest as you began pumping him again, this time slowly working down him with your mouth. The modulated groans of the clone above you made you rub your thighs together for some sort of relief. When you thought he was distracted enough by your tongue, you slid a hand down between your legs.

“Oh, sweetheart. You just keep testing me, don’t you?” Fox growled, tugging you off of his cock by the hair. You looked down sheepishly, not having expected to get caught. Fox quickly discarded his helmet before yanking you back to your feet.

“‘M sorry, sir,” you said. Fox looked like he was going to fall victim to your puppy dog eyes, but he shook his head and adjusted you so he could have access to your clothed cunt. With two fingers, he slid the scrap of fabric to the side, inhaling sharply when he noticed how wet you were.

“Does putting on a show like that get you this wet?” Fox said, lining himself up with your entrance. “You know all my brothers could see you?”

“Really-- fuck!” your words were interrupted by the stretch of Fox sliding into you with one movement. Normally, you would’ve been upset that he didn’t touch you first, but you were so turned on that he slid in with little resistance.

“They were all drooling over you, sweetheart,” Fox said through gritted teeth as he fucked you. The slight jealousy he felt was obvious not just in his voice, but in the rough way he was fucking you, almost as if he was worried you’d disappear out from under him. You grabbed his chin and kissed him passionately.

“Mhmm, but you’re the only one who gets to fuck me, Commander,” you said when you pulled away from the kiss. “I’m all yours, Fox,”

That seemed to unlock something in Fox’s head, because he began fucking you with even more force, trying to get as deep inside you as he could with every thrust. He began to mouth at your collarbone, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, that’s right. Mine,” he repeated into your neck. You scrambled for purchase on the plastoid armor he was still wearing as he ruined you, moans pouring out of you too loudly for the only semi-private office. Neither of you seemed to care, though.

“Fuck, Fox, I wanna come,” you whined, shivering from when his groin rubbed against your clit with a well-angled thrust. Fox seemed to contemplate for a moment before grinning into your collarbone.

“No,”

“What do you mean no? Shit, Fox!” you cried out. Fox’s thrusts were getting sloppy, and you knew he was close.

“I mean no. I’m gonna fill up this pussy, and then we’re going to go home, and if you’re good, maybe I’ll let you come then,” Fox said, voice shaking slightly.

“Shit, you can’t be serious. Come on, I’m so close,” you said breathlessly as Fox’s hips snapped into yours with such force that you slid up the wall you were pressed against.

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before teasing me all night,” Fox growled, breathing heavily. You whined in protest, but he had made up his mind. “Fuck, you’re all mine. I’m the only one who should get to see you like this,”

“All yours, Fox. Only yours,” you moaned, and that sent Fox over the edge. He bit down harshly on your shoulder to muffle his loud groan as he emptied himself inside you. Fox slumped against the wall, leaning into your body, and you pressed gentle kisses to his temple as he recovered.

“You know, I love you and everything, but I need you to get me home so you can fuck me properly,” you said, the serene smile on your face in sharp contrast to how needy you felt. Fox pulled back, leaving one last kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Are you ever going to learn to behave?” he said with mock exasperation.

“No, you like me better this way,” you teased back, making yourself presentable before pulling a lovestruck Fox out of his office, the two of you too enamored with each other to register the catcalls from the other guardsmen.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 16: Tulips

With the possible exception of all of the eighth years getting along and actually becoming friends, regardless of their former rivalries, the first half of Draco's eighth year at Hogwarts was remarkably ordinary. Funny how it took a war to see that they were all just children and all being used as pawns in a bigger game.

There was also, for Draco, the realization that he had a bit of a crush on Potter. He found that he actually really enjoyed the other boy's company; he enjoyed his snarkiness and the way that Draco could see mischief in his eyes. He liked the way Potter listened, liked the way he always seemed to want to casually touch other people. He liked him, plain and simple.

But other than the unlikely truces turned friendships (and in the case of Potter, turned crush) nothing weird happened, no one tried to kill him (or other students), no prophecies were unveiled, there were no dementors, no psychopath teachers, nothing. It was almost enough to make Draco bored.

Almost.

There was nothing strange until one unassuming morning in March, when they were all sitting in the great Hall, eating breakfast, and quizzing each other for the upcoming test in Transfiguration.

Potter interrupted the heated debate that Draco was having with Granger with a blurted, "What the fuck?"

Everyone looked over at him, including Hermione and Draco, to see what had happened.

"There's a tulip in my coffee cup!" the other boy said.

"So there is," Draco replied in amusement.

Everyone chuckled and Potter tried to figure out who had put the bright yellow tulip there but Draco really didn't have time to think about that because he and Hermione were back to arguing about Transfiguration theory.

He probably wouldn't have thought about it again but that evening as they got ready for bed, Draco felt a strange twinge in his magical core, like you got when you were preparing to cast a strong spell.

Before he could really dig into what had happened, Potter's bed curtains flew open, "Alright, you lot," he said, a laugh ruining the stern look he was attempting. "Who put this here?" he asked, holding out a red tulip that he'd apparently found on his pillow.

(Read more below the cut)

Each of them denied having any knowledge of how the tulip could have found its way into Potter's bed, but a bit of unease settled in Draco's stomach. Potter put the second tulip in with the first in the vase on the windowsill and laughed it off.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, there was a story he'd been told as a child. A story that he couldn't quite grasp but filled him with a bit of apprehension none the less.

Still, this was nothing like the sort of anxiety that Draco had been accustomed to forcing himself to sleep through for the past few years, so he put it from his mind and went to sleep.

And again, he might have been able to forget about it, if it weren't for the fact that the next morning he felt a tug at his magical core and then a few minutes later, Potter appeared with another tulip. White this time and he'd found it in the pocket of his robes. "Seriously, what the hell you guys?" he laughed.

Everyone else laughed too, but Draco frowned, the memory of the story niggling at the back of his mind once more, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He continued to try to remember throughout the rest of the week and Potter continued to get tulips. They showed up in his book bag, the showed up in place of his quills, they showed up on his plate at meals, they showed up everywhere and anywhere. One even replaced his loofa in the shower.

By the end of the week, Potter was getting a bit irritated and he'd had to enlarge the vase multiple times to fit all of the tulips. Draco wasn't sure why Potter hadn't just thrown them out, but it wasn't his place to say anything, certainly.

On Saturday, when everyone had gone off to Hogsmeade for the morning, Draco fire called his mother.

"Draco, darling," she said, smiling at him, "I'm so pleased to hear from you. How are you?"

He endured the predictable pleasantries before he said, "Listen, mother, the reason I called," he paused there because this was all a bit ridiculous. "Well, it sounds silly really, but there was a story you told me when I was little," he said. "Something about a wizard who had flowers appear out of nowhere? I can't remember it."

"Why?" she asked, her face serious. "Draco, why are you asking me about that story?"

"No reason," he said quickly. "It's just something that came into my head," he lied.

"Who's receiving tulips, Draco?"

"It's nothing!" he repeated. "And I never said there were any tulips."

"If I tell you the story, will you tell me the truth?"

Draco sighed but nodded.

"The story," she began, "was about your great, great, great uncle Silas. Silas was a difficult man, everyone always said so. He was haughty and rude; he was quite clever but not terribly gracious about it."

"Mother," he interrupted, his knees were growing cold and sore from kneeling on the common room floor, "could we just skip to the meat of the story."

"Yes, alright," she sighed. "Long story short, Silas fell in love with a muggleborn. His family obviously refused to let him get married, assuming that the love would fade eventually. There was an arranged marriage in there as well, but that's not really important. What is important, is that the person he fell in love with began to find tulips everywhere. Every time she went to pick up something, it turned into a tulip; at her home, her work, everywhere she went, tulips."

Draco felt something in the pit of his stomach drop. This couldn't be happening.

"He was pining for her, heartbroken that he couldn't be with her," she said. "Now, magic can't create something from nothing, so in each of the tulips was a little bit of Silas' magic."

"Like a horocrux?" he asked in horror.

"No, darling, nothing so sinister as that. But the flowers were slowly draining his magical core and he was growing steadily weaker." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "So, as the story goes, when he was so weak he could barely summon the strength to stand, he went to her to confess his love. What did it matter if he was going to die? When he told her of his love, she kissed him and his magic was restored. The family was convinced that it was true love and that the love that bound the two of them together was obviously stronger magic than that of blood status."

Draco rubbed a hand over his face, "So, this was a true story?"

"Yes, it's all rather well documented as it would have to be in the case of something like this." She gave him her most commanding look, "Now, I've held up my end of the bargain, so it's your turn. Tell me who's receiving tulips, Draco."

"Harry Potter," he whispered.

Her eyebrows rose, "You have to tell him, Draco."

"I can't!" he said, shaking his head, "You know I can't. He couldn't possibly feel the same way, he couldn't possibly love me, too-"

Something shattered behind him and he yanked his head back to see the boy in question standing there, bouquet of tulips in his hands. The vase had dropped and been smashed, water was soaking into Potter's socks but he didn't seem to notice.

Draco promptly ended the fire call with his mother and wondered if it would be possible to transfer to Beauxbatons to complete the year. It was either that or he should just go off to die.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Most of it," Potter confessed with a little wince. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but then I heard her talking about how everything in that girl's life became tulips and I knew you were talking about me. I didn't realize how the story would end," he hastened to add. "I just thought that she might know something about a curse or spell that had been cast on me."

Draco rubbed his forehead, "Look, could you just forget about the whole thing?"

"Forget about it?" Potter asked, sounding a little hysterical at this point. "Draco, it turned six quills into tulips in the past three days. Six!" he shook his head. "No, I can't forget about it and I certainly can't let you die."

Draco stood up and balled his hands into fists, "Always ready to play the hero aren't you?"

"What?" the other boy asked, obviously taken aback.

"Ready to play the martyr," he sneered. "Well I won't have it. I won't have you tying yourself to me just because you're afraid that I'll die if you don't return the sentiment."

"But I already do return the sentiment," Harry said, sounding bewildered. "Sorry, maybe I should have said so, but I thought that was obvious from the story."

"What?"

"Well, your mum said that it was true love's kiss that restored his magic, true love that made it possible for the flowers to appear in the first place. I just assumed it was obvious that I was in love with you, too."

"You are?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe that this was possible.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a little shrug. "I mean, I thought maybe it would have been good to start with a date or something," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "It's why I'm still here, I wanted to invite you to go to Hogsmeade with me."

"You did?"

Harry nodded again. "But I'm glad to kiss you, for the unselfish reason that it will restore your magic," he said, glancing down at the flowers in his hands before looking back up, "And for the selfish reason that I would really just like to kiss you."

"You would?" he asked.

Harry huffed at him, "Are you going to stop sounding like you doubt every word out of my mouth?"

"Sorry, it's just-" Draco started but then Potter was across the room, dropping the tulips as he cupped Draco's face in his hands and leaned in until they were a mere inch apart.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his eyes flickering between Draco's.

"Yes," Draco breathed.

Harry gave him a little grin and leaned in to kiss him, his soft, full lips, gently caressing Draco's, and Draco felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment before a surge of magic, and joy, and love came rushing in and filled him to bursting.

He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him in closer and Harry hummed, molding his lips to Draco's for a moment before pulling back and resting their foreheads together.

"That was-" Draco started.

"Fantastic," Harry agreed. "Do you feel better? Not going to die on me or anything?"

Draco laughed and pinched his side, "I think we were a long way off from that."

"I don't know," Harry replied, tilting his head to press a kiss to the tip of Draco's nose. "There were an awful lot of tulips."

"Yes," Draco replied, pulling back to look at the tulips strewn about the floor, "And you've dropped them all on the ground. That's quite rude, you know."

Harry huffed at him, "Prat," he said fondly before drawing away to swish his wand and collect all of the tulips and put them back into the repaired vase. "So," Harry said, "I think tulips may be my new favorite flower."

"Mine, too," Draco replied with a smile.

And when they got married, two years later, there were tulips everywhere.

Day 15: Wings | Day 17: Salt

[bcdwhcre]

Hello! I love love ur levi ackerman fics! if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to request a part two of little white lie! If you don’t want to do that, it’s perfectly fine!:) Thank you🤍🤍

“Little White Lie,” Pt 2 Levi x Reader

Ooooo yes, I was expecting someone to ask about it sooner or later but I shall deliver.

Summary: after finding out Levi’s secret girlfriend is Erwin’s niece, they sit down and tell him the truth.

Warnings: none

PART ONE

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It had been messing with Levi’s head for well over a week. Ever since he found out about you being Erwin’s niece, it had stuck to him and even when he would talk to him or see him, he couldn’t think straight.

He didn’t want to feel like he was betraying Erwin or lying to him but deep down he couldn’t help but feel those exact emotions, it was tearing him apart bit by bit.

“I asked Erwin to come here for dinner tonight.” Levi said as you both sat inside his office, the small break you two always had even though it was always about 5 minutes.

“Why?” You knew why deep down but you didn’t want to believe that Levi would make this decision without asking you first.

“We both know why.”

“And why don’t I get a say, hm?” Your eyebrows knitted together, the frustration on your face evident while Levi stared at you.

“Y/N, if I would’ve sat you here and said ‘hey we should invite your uncle to dinner so we can tell him because every waking moment feels like I’m betraying him’ would you agree? Or would you be your usual self and brush it off your shoulders acting like it’s not a big deal?” He said, annoyance lingering on his tongue and you sat there for what seemed like forever staring at him.

“Just say you wouldn’t have agreed. You’re too stubborn to even fucking realize that this secret has been messing me up. You don’t bother to notice because it’s your uncle but to me, he’s my friend, my boss. Do you not get that?” You stayed quiet as you listened to his words, not knowing what to really say because every word that escaped his mouth was the truth.

“You’re right, I apologize.” You mumbled, sighing under your breath and leaning back against the seat until you looked at the clock, signaling that it was time for you to leave.

“I’ll be here tonight then.” You leaned over his desk and he hesitated for a second, still very much upset with you but he couldn’t resist planting a kiss on your lips before he watched you leave.

-

Hours had passed by and the entire time you had been working or training, you thought about the events that will be occurring tonight. You were afraid for your uncles reaction and response to things, you were the only family member he had left.

Levi had made sure to make things easy and somewhat special. Requesting for the best meal he could from the kitchen and having it sent to his office once it was ready.

Erwin always had a tendency to arrive early, he even arrived before you did and Levi had tried to make small talk as he waited but he just grew more nervous by the second, his leg bouncing up and down underneath his desk.

“Sorry, something came up.” You rushed in the door, taking off your jacket and set it on the chair before taking a seat beside Erwin.

“I didn’t know you would be joining us.” Your uncle looked down at you with a bright smile, making your nerves come into play as you gave him a awkward one.

You were glad to make in time before the food arrived but it also wasn’t that good of an idea because the more you waited, the more you would drink the wine in front of you and poured yourself more and more.

Both of the guys have noticed your state, not sure to question it or leave it alone. Once the food had finally arrived to Levi’s office, being set down in front of all three of you.

“I know this dinner was a bit sudden, I just wanted to sit down with you and talk to you about some things.” Levi mentioned, taking a small bite out of his food and you remained quiet, sure since this was his decision, he could do all the talking.

“Is it about work? I’m all ears for what you have to say.” Erwin assured him, being completely clueless of what was going slip from Levi’s mouth.

“I mean, not really work related. I feel like you deserve to know that... I’ve been dating your niece.” He rushed the last part out a little too fast, you were afraid Erwin didn’t even hear him but he continued eating, humming under his breath.

“I knew that.”

Levi made eye contact with you then the both of you turned to Erwin, eyes wide as his laugh echoed in the office. This sure wasn’t your uncle you were sitting next to, right? There was no way he couldn’t have known or even react to something like this in the way he is right now.

“You knew?”

“Yes, it was obvious. You didn’t think I would notice my niece, practically my daughter, sneaking around?” You couldn’t help but agree with him, you’ve always been terrible with sneaking around and he’s known that since you were a teenager.

“Ah,” Levi mumbled, remaining quiet as it grew awkward but Erwin found it quite amusing by the look of both of your faces that you weren’t expecting this.

“Look, you probably thought that I would march in here and play that over protective role and forbid you to see her or even speak to her but Levi, I’ve known you for years, I trust you with my life out on that field and I know who you are as a person deep down. You’re well beyond a good choice for her.”

Your eyes had glanced between Erwin and Levi, it was like you weren’t even here but you remained silent and let them speak and say whatever they needed to say. You had secretly wished that you both told Erwin earlier, you wished you seen the signs of Levi being upset about this secret but at least it was happening now rather than later down the line.

“Oh- well, thank you.” Levi couldn’t find the words to say, the look of complete shock written on his face.

“As for you, don’t feel like you need to keep things from me.” Erwin turned to you and you quickly nodded your head.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You mentioned, turning back to your food and trying to distract yourself from the awkward feeling you had in the pit of your stomach.

The rest of the night was easy, to them at least. Erwin continuously brought up embarrassing stories about you and was set on talking about everything to Levi which made your cheeks heat up. You wanted to leave the room, they were clearly too invested in each other to even notice your presence anymore but deep down you were glad they were at least talking and laughing together.

You had leaned back against the chair, sipping on the small glass of wine and watched them both. The way Levi’s eyes would light up when Erwin would talk about you when you were younger and the way Levi would laugh so hard, you were positive you saw his eyes water.

You can easily tell the weight on his shoulders have been lifted and you couldn’t help but feel at fault for him feeling weighed down.

After Erwin left and called it a night, you stayed a little longer with him and even went back to his bedroom to lay in bed with him for a while.

“Why did we think that was going to be a disaster when in reality he knew?” Levi mumbled, staring up at the ceiling while his arms were secured around your body.

“Because he’s the Commander, it could’ve easily gone wrong. I’m sorry for making you feel like you were lying to him.” You spoke quietly, your head tilting up to look at him while your fingers brushed back his hair.

“Don’t be, look at the positive- he didn’t beat my ass.” He said sarcastically, making you roll his eyes.

“Yeah but I can easily do that for him.”

He looked down at you, shooting you a dirty look, knowing he can easily take you down in a heart beat but he decided to let you think that you could beat him, just this once.

He placed a quick kiss on your forehead, sighing as he rested his head back against the pillow and traced his fingers along your back.

“So, when do we tell the scouts next?”

“Levi,”

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This one feels rushed and I’m sorry if it is🤧

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[semischarmed]

Detour

“Really Scott,” you say, as you run your fingers through your hair. “I don’t look familiar to you at all?” You take a mental picture of your high school tormentor’s face. Damn. ‘You’ve only gotten hotter these past few years haven’t you?’

“Nah man, sorry” He states as he moves to close the door to his apartment. You give a slight rub to a small gold medallion and his body starts moving on it’s own. You stare at him with a cruel smile as he tries to wrestle control back of his body. Your face strains but you are able to force him to let you into his place. Scott, evidently, was smarter than he looks as you notice him take a mental note of your struggle and the medallion. You’re gonna have to be careful around him.

You have to admit, this is a lot tougher than you initially expected. Much like his body, man has a will of steel, and even with this necklace’s little power boost, you can only barely contain him. But you have the power of raw emotion coursing through you. Envy. Lust. Unlike Scottie over here, lady luck has not been kind to the past few years past high school. That all changed when you came across this medallion. A strange, mystical, wonderful medallion with strange, mystical, wonderful powers. As soon it came into your possession, you instantly knew the first person who would have the privilege of witnessing its power firsthand. Scott reclaimed a bit of power over himself.

“What the fuck dude! You got the wrong guy! I really don’t know who you are!” You have to hold back a bit of your hurt. All those years of agony and fear, and it doesn’t even register a blip to him. ‘Fuck it, worth it for what I’m about to get.’ With another rub of the medallion you force him to freeze.

As you study his frame, still and glistening with a nervous sweat, you are overcome with a wave of lust- you can’t wait to possess the fuck out of this man. He’s only gotten bigger, beefier since the last time you’ve seen him. You are cut from your trance as you hear a soft “zzzz” sound.

His phone buzzes again and, rubbing your medallion, you force him to pull it out and unlock it for you. “Who is this?” You ask, as you take a closer look at the string of texts. “Almost back!” “Hey u wanna get some pizza tonight?” “Dude I gotta tell you about Sophie at the weights today.“

“I-It’s Alex, he’s my friend. He’s my best friend. We’re roommates. Also he’s coming back soon, so you should probably go. This-whatever the fuck this is man, I won’t tell anyone I promise. Just go” he states nervously. Try as you might, you can’t read if he’d genuinely let you go. Knowing the Scott you knew in high school, he’d probably beat you to a pulp as soon as you released your hold on him. Whatever. Not leaving anyway. You stare at more pictures of his friend from Scott’s social media. Fit, cute- hot even, easy on the eyes. Ok then, maybe a little detour is in order. 

“I’m gonna give you a choice.” You state plainly, as you set his phone on the table. “And I know you remember who I am, so you can stop the act. You? Or Alex? Who’s it gonna be?” He probably thinks you’re gonna kill him. Not even close. If anything, he’s gonna be getting a new lif-

“Alex, Alex! Please dude, just leave me alone!” He says without hesitation. Damn. Cold-blooded. You smile with menacing compliance. 

“Alex it is.”

----

Minutes later, a sweaty Alex unlocks the door to his apartment, eager to get quick shower in and order some dinner. “Oh, uh, I didn’t realize we’d have guests”. 

Alex smiles warmly at you and greets you, “Hey, I’m Alex, Scott’s roommate. Good to meet you!” He looks at his hand. “Sorry, I just got back from the gym, so I’d shake your hand, b-” “So you’re Alex! good to meet you too!” you cut him off by extending your hand, which he awkwardly shakes out of formality. You use this to take a sneak preview of your future vessel’s hands. Calloused, but soft. Thin, damp. Vascular. Good.

“Yeah, I’m an old friend of Scott’s. From high school,” you lie. “He said he had to grab something from the store, so he’ll probably be back in a bit.”

“Aww well, I’m sorry he’s been keeping you waiting” Alex gives a warm smile. “He’s usually pretty good at this kind of stuff, so I’m sure he had a good reason. Do you want like a water or something?” 

He starts to head to the kitchen. You stifle a moan as you quickly stick your hand in your pants and smear his gym sweat all over your dick. Sneak preview. 

As he fashions himself a glass of water and glances back as you quickly take your hands out your pants before he notices. “Oh no, no! I’m alright! Thank you for the offer though!” you beam back. Close call.

‘Alex is such a nice, stand up guy’ You wonder to yourself, ‘why is he friends with that piece of shit’

“I’ve known Scott since college, so a little less than you, haha” he adds, as if hearing your mental conversation. “He always keeps it real and he’s even been helping me get toned”. He smiles and does a small bicep flex to demonstrate -hot- before he ravenously gulps down the entire glass of water and sets it down.

‘Fuck yeah, I can’t wait to be the one going down that tube’ you think, as you bite your lip. Alex starts to head your way. You then pick up on his scent, he smells clean- probably his cologne or deodorant. Mountains. Mint. Fresh rain. He’s like a breath of fresh air. Then the undercurrent of his scent hits. Raw, primal, alpha as fuck. You’re a bit surprised. Such a kind, clean cut guy and he apparently naturally smells like a filthy, raunchy, putrid motherfucker. You can hardly control yourself as you try to imagine where it’s coming from. Pits, ass, feet, ball sweat, all of the above?- wherever the fuck it’s coming from, it’s intoxicating. You smile in the joy that a little piece of you, even if it was just the dick that you rubbed his hand sweat all over, now smells like a diluted Alex. You struggle as you adjust your growing hard on in proximity to the pheromone bomb that is Alex.

Suddenly, Alex’s phone buzzes. You steal a glance at the sender. It’s Scott.

“Hey man, come to my room, now. We need to fucking talk. I have no idea who he is. Make sure he stays where he is. He doesn’t know I’m here .” Alex stares at his phone, a little perplexed, while you continue to stare at this fine, fine piece of ass in front of you. He gives a quick glance your way, to which you respond with a smile. 

“Hey, uh, make yourself at home, ok? Im sure Scott’s coming back soon. I, uh, I gotta take care of something real quick with our, um, other roommate.” There’s only two bedrooms and he’s a horrible liar, but you still find it a little endearing. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, maybe we can hang out sometime. Any friend of Scott is a friend of mine!“ he tells you kindly as you swoon. ‘Oh Alex we’re about to be much, much closer than friends. Closer than you can possibly imagine’.

“Hey dude, uh, so Scott’s friend is waiting for you in the living room. Also whatever this is, can it wait? I kinda have to showe-“ Alex cuts himself off as he sees Scott slumped over, tied up to his desk chair with his own dirty clothes in a neat little bow. “What the fuck!?! Scott! are you ok?” Alex rushes over to help his friend.

“So, I gotta say, Scott, you made a great choice sacrificing him to save yourself. Alex is definitely a catch.” You say from the doorway. Alex quickly looks your way in horror as his best friend breaks free from his fake restraints and pulls him into an embrace.

Alex tries to squirm free from Scott’s grip, as you make Scott say the truth to his friend. “He made me choose, between you and me. I chose you.”

“T-This is a joke, right? Scott?” Scott starts to force him into his desk chair. “Cmon man!” Alex pleads, as an emotionless Scott ties him to the desk chair.

“Some best friend” you chuckle, as you stroke Scott’s cheek and wipe away a stray tear -you can feel his revulsion internally- “he sold you out without a second thought”. You start to undress his lower half, starting with his gym shoes. Fuck it was potent. “Don’t worry, I’ll never do that to us.” You peel away his sweat soaked socks and take another whiff. Alex sits in confusion, probably speechless at what had just transpired.

“Let’s make a deal” you say with a chuckle. “I’ll show you a taste of me if you show me a taste of you.” Without waiting for a response, you start by kneeling down sucking on his scummy toes. Sour. Just how you like it. He’s still squirming in his bonds a little. “Step on me,” you say, as you smash your face to his sweaty feet over and over again, simulating him stepping on you. You catch a little movement in his crotch area. ‘Is he enjoying this?’ you ask, as you continue up Alex’s legs. You look back to make sure Scott is still in your control. He stands frozen, emotionless, but with a deep hatred in his eyes, twitching occasionally in his attempt to break free. You make him face Alex and force him to lift the corner of his tank top to give Alex a little tease, while you continue with your little treasure hunt.

You then peel away his compression shorts to reveal your prize. A concentrated bloom of Alex’s pheromones hit you. Ecstasy. You almost pass out on the spot. ‘Holy shit’. You can't control yourself as bury your head and greedily rub your face in his sweaty crotch. Alex is eerily quiet.

Rubbing the medallion, you issue your next command. You’re gonna need to divert a little magic to making this work, so you release some control of Scott as emotion and shouting return to him. It takes a minute or two but you’re able to get your bodies properly primed fro the next stage. You notice Alex shiver from a slight tingle in his body, while Scott continues his barrage of insults your way. “Shut up,” you command. His lips quiver and then shut. “Scottie, come tell Alex what his best friend is gonna do to him.”

Alex again looks at Scott with a pleading face as a twitching, emotionless Scott continues: “Alex, I’m gonna stuff you full of himm- full of my Ma,” you wince. Strong and stubborn as ever, you can’t even get him to call you master. “Man you’re gonna love it. I sold you out to save myself. Didn’t even have to think about it. Just like that.” You’re getting a little better at controlling his movements. “Now I’m gonna be the one to make sure I put all of him inside you” Scott continues, “I-I can’t wait to see him wear you like a s-suit, parading you around, s-swimming in your skin and no one will ever know. I can’t wait to see the new you, w-with a little fag pilot tucked safe inside, pulling on your strings, speaking for you, thinking for you, loving for you” Scott finishes with an unsettling, wide grin that you force him into. 

Emotion and control rush back to Scott’s face. “Alex...” he states in an apologetic tone, but Alex doesn’t even look him in eye. Again, off the corner of your eye, you can’t help but notice a ghost of a smile on his face before it returns to its sullen look.

“Ok, ok, enough you two. Let’s go put on a good show for our best friend Scottie”.

-End Part 1-

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 9: Shadows

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

So much has happened this night that it's kind of hilariously ridiculous at this point. AND YET we are just beginning. Was that kiss a tease? Maybe. Is this still slow burn? Absolutely. Will it be Fun and Complicated™? Yes. Thanks so much for reading! Next update is Thursday. Going to try to push for another double update this weekend! As always, open to suggestions and if I like them I will integrate them~ Hope you're all doing well.

Part 8 Part 10 Chapter Index

“I’m really okay, Liu.” Your voice was tired and shaky. Words were difficult after that. How were you supposed to reset and leave that moment so quickly? Liu Kang had managed, but you imagined it had to do with the fact that his hand was covered in your blood and worry and guilt had taken over.

He showed you his hand as if to prove a point and you adjusted against the wall. The hanfu was still tangled behind you, stuck halfway down your arms so you slipped it off the remainder of the way. Then you pulled up your shirt to show him the wound. It was bleeding through the gauze.

“…I don’t think this is proving the point that you want it to prove.”

“Fine.” You pulled the gauze away and the wound, while ugly, was mostly still closed. A few stitches had pulled and blood flowed freely but it definitely could have been worse. “See? Not that bad.”

“I feel like you aren’t taking this seriously, Y/N.” He showed you his hand again, scooting closer. His fingers, warm, brushed around the wound and you shivered. Your hands were still shaking, your heart was still racing. How were you supposed to relax after any of this? You’d had a vision for the first time in years and then Liu Kang had kissed you! Not just kissed you, he’d kissed you and you weren’t sure it would have stopped at that if you hadn’t been bleeding.

“I am. Look, we need to speak with Raiden. I… whatever it is that I saw, Liu, it’s important. If you think that he can decipher it then best to do it right now while it’s fresh, right?” You were afraid to tell him the truths of your childhood illness. This was all too familiar now and saying any of it out loud meant accepting it as reality. Like you would be willing it into the world with words. “I know my limits, Liu Kang. You have to trust me.”

“I do trust you, Y/N.” He reached to touch your cheek again but spotting the blood on his fingers he pulled back before turning his gaze. “You’ll tell me if you’re feeling sick, right?”

“Yes. I’m tougher than I look, I promise.”

“You’re so pale. And freezing.” He held his hand in front of you with the flame again and you winced at the overwhelming heat. In contrast to the cold you were feeling, it was blazing. He frowned.

“Please stop doing that. I’m not going to crumble. I’m not fragile, Liu.”

“Raiden. Then the infirmary.” Liu Kang stood up and offered you the hand that wasn’t on fire. The heat of the fire was killing you. It was too hot. Everything was overstimulating right now. Liu, the fire, the cold, your spinning head, your throbbing side. It was too much. You took his hand and got back to your feet. Your legs were shaking beneath you but you took a second to focus on your posture, on the weight of your body on your feet, and steadied yourself.

Liu Kang extinguished his fire and slipped his arm around you then urged your arm over his shoulder to support you. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you didn’t need him to do that. Besides, that kiss hadn’t ended the way either of you had wanted. Being close was a comfort until you could talk about it though talking about it seemed like this distant, scary thing already. You walked in silence for a time and you slowed your pace as you made it up a flight of stairs.

“Not too late to go to the infirmary.” Liu Kang was avoiding your eyes.

“We’re already almost there.” You stopped walking and pulled out of his arms to lean against the wall. This didn’t help Liu Kang’s worry. You were certain that what he’d seen happen to you had been traumatic. Then all that he’d done after that... That was a lot for you to consider, you were sure it was just as much, if not more, for him.

“I’m uncomfortable with this.” Liu slipped his arm around you again and urged you away from the wall before you were ready and you nearly collapsed into him. “Very uncomfortable.”

“I know you are, but please just humor me.”

“If you pass out, I’m taking you to the infirmary. Also you’re going to owe me an apology at this rate.”

“If I pass out then I will happily apologize, Liu Kang. I’ll tell you how right you are and make it up to you. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You caught a small smile on his face and were relieved for that. The tense air was exhausting. You made it up the last flight of stairs before the hall with the electrical sculptures and were met by a monk who hurried up to you and bowed.

“Lord Raiden requires isolation for the night. You must turn back.” He seemed nervous to approach you. Probably because of Liu Kang, you guessed. You were nobody. “What’s going on?” He looked between you and then at the state of you. You were both covered in ink and you were covered in blood.

“We must speak with Lord Raiden. It’s urgent. Whatever he’s doing can wait.” Liu bowed his head in spite of his assertion. The monk hesitated and then nodded before disappearing down the hall and out of sight. Liu Kang helped you to the end of the hall and you stood waiting. He didn’t need to hold you, but still he did and it took all of your self-control no to rest against him, not to bring up what happened. There were more important things, you told yourself.

Thankfully, the monk didn’t leave you waiting long. “Please, follow me.” He led you through the doorway that he’d come through and then bowed to you. “Wait here. He will be with you as soon as he can.” The monk bowed and then walked through the door that he’d led you through, leaving the door open and the two of you alone. Liu helped you into a chair near the back wall and then took the seat next to you.

You leaned your elbows on your knees and sighed. When you sat back up, Liu Kang was facing you. He brushed his fingers over your cheek and pushed your hair back. Then he checked your pulse and felt your forehead for a fever. The frustration he’d radiated with you for not going to the infirmary was gone. Only worry and curiosity remained.

“I’m okay, Liu,” you whispered reassuringly and grasped his hand, pulling it away from your face. He nodded but the look of concern didn’t fade. It wasn’t pity, but it was pretty close. Worry was becoming exhausting. You wanted him to trust you. He said he did, but it was hard to believe it when he was so concerned. It was traumatic, you reminded yourself. You needed to talk about it and there just wasn’t the time in that moment. “Really. I’m okay.”

“You’re still so cold.”

“But I’m also okay.” You snatched his hand back as he felt for your pulse again and offered him a tired smile. Despite your racing thoughts, you understood his worry. You just needed to talk. So much had happened. The door leading into the room from the back left opened and Lord Raiden walked in. His presence commanded your attention. You let go of Liu’s hand, feeling as though you were a child who had done something forbidden.

“What’s happened?” He folded his arms over his chest and approached the two of you. Liu Kang stood and bowed before Raiden. You heard the prayer beads shifting into his palm again.

“Lord Raiden, I’m sorry to interrupt you so early in the morning when you’re in isolation but Y/N has had a vision.” Liu didn’t lift his head as he spoke. “A vision of our future.” He went on to explain how he had found you in the fight pit and how your arcana had attacked him. You went pale. He hadn’t told you that! You’d attacked him? You hadn’t even asked him if he was okay. How selfish of you!

Raiden walked around Liu Kang who turned with him and stood before you, imposing and intimidating. “What did you see, Y/N?”

“I…” You hesitated with nerves. The vision really was jumbled up. When you were a kid, you’d struggled to relay what you’d seen to anyone and when you had managed, you’d gotten in trouble. This was no easy task. The times that you’d spoken with certainty had been during your fits and completely without your permission. It was as though there was something else inside of you doing the speaking in those moments. “It’s fuzzy. There was a man with long dark hair, armor, a cloak and his… his eyes went completely black and there was all this… smoke and shadow.” You caught Liu Kang’s gaze fixed on you and locked eyes with him. He had volumes hidden behind them. Raiden caught your shared gaze and you looked away.

“Could you go get some water, Liu Kang?”

“…of course.” Liu seemed as though he didn’t trust this was a real errand but did as he was asked, disappearing from the room. That left you alone with Raiden and he took Liu Kang’s seat and clasped his hands in front of him.

“Now, tell me.” He turned to face you and while his face was severe, he seemed oddly sympathetic. “Please.” That was the first time Raiden seemed like more than intimidating and you were grateful for that. The comparison to the harshness of your father faded from your mind.

“We were in the pit… well they were.” You went on to explain the details of what you had seen, at least what you could remember. You told him about the warriors who had been training with Liu Kang and Kung Lao, the ones you didn’t recognize. You told him about the pillar of smoke that the dark man had conjured and led his armies through. You told him about the visions of pain and fear.

“Who are these other warriors?”

“I don’t know but I can describe them… there was a woman, an American, I think. There was a man with a series of scars all along his face… They were fresh.” You traced the lines over the side of your face and closed your eyes to try and recollect the vision. “A man… with…” You winced and held your head in your hands, a sharp ringing rattling through your ears. You could picture the others, but there was a disconnected between your thoughts and your mouth as if the words were impossible to form. “They were in so much pain, Lord Raiden. I’ve never seen Liu’s…” Your voice cracked and you covered your mouth. The sorrow was overwhelming. Raiden placed a comforting hand on your back. “I don’t know who any of them were. I don’t know where I was. I’m…” You spoke quickly and frantically, the words pouring out of your mouth faster than you thought them. Where were you in those visions?

“It’s okay.” Raiden urged you to stop and so you did. You felt suddenly spent and weak, resting your arms down against your legs and hunching forward. “Breathe, Y/N.”

You did as you were asked and were grateful for the reminder. Liu returned with a pitcher of water and a cup. He crouched before you and set the glass and pitcher aside on the floor. Then he looked to Raiden as if to ask him what happened.

“How long has she been feeling this way?” Raiden stood.

“Feeling what way?” Liu took the seat next to you again and Raiden placed a hand upon your shoulder. His eyes went completely white and electricity rang through the air. Then he pulled his hand back in surprise, as though you had been the one to shock him.

“…darkness looms over you.” He tilted his head curiously. Your heart dropped. Raiden was haunting to watch. “Something dark from your youth.” He turned his back to them and walked away. “You cannot fight. This affliction will make you weak.”

“No.” You stood and while your legs wobbled, you fought to prove that you could. “I want to fight. I can fight. I’m fine.”

“As you are? It would only lead to your death.” Raiden turned to face you but seemed curious of your determination to defy him. You’d been told no almost your whole life and you had rejected it time and again. This would be no different. You would fight. Nothing would stop you.

“This shadow over you is one I cannot place. It will drain you. It has drained you. Made your blood thin. It is unnatural.”

“Lord Raiden, Y/N’s arcana is strong. It can fight for her if she cannot.” Liu bowed his head before Raiden but the look on his face made you turn away. Fear. You felt your stomach rattle with nerves. What if Raiden was right? What if you couldn’t fight? You would try but the fear you saw on Liu rattled you. What shadow was it that hung over you? Was he talking about your ability to see? Something that you had thought you’d lost in your youth. It had never felt particularly dark other than that it had made you terribly sick.

“I’m afraid that without understanding of this shadow then it might be impossible.”

“We’ll help her train with her arcana, Lord Raiden. We will make certain that no shadow will control her.” Liu Kang’s fear had faded and was replaced with determination, thank god. That was a huge relief.

“Oh? Then I will entrust you with this task, Liu Kang. You and Kung Lao. Make certain that you are careful.” Raiden looked back to you. “This affliction runs deeper than you think. If her arcana is beyond her control as you claimed tonight then it could cause you both great harm. And just as terribly, if this wound was worse than a scrape from Kung Lao’s hat then she might not be here at all.”

Devastation.

You slumped back into the chair and furrowed your brow, holding your head in your hands. You’d fought it and won once before. You would fight it again. You had to hold onto hope that whatever this shadow was, whatever this affliction was, it was temporary. You didn’t want to believe that this was the end of your journey as a warrior.

Liu’s familiar hand fell on your cheek, warm and comforting. You leaned into his touch.

“We’ll find a way. Don’t lose faith.” He assured you and you were thankful for his kind smile. Out of habit, you placed your hand over his. You felt Raiden’s eyes on you, observing you. Your cheeks flushed.

“One of the monks woke me and told me something happened.” Kung Lao walked through the doorway before you could comprehend that he’d joined you. Liu Kang pulled his hand back very quickly. “I stopped by the fight pit on the way over and it was covered in ink. I was worried.” Kung Lao walked toward you but Raiden stopped him and pulled him aside to fill him in on what he knew. You watched the guilt wash over him. He stole a glance at you then turned back to Raiden. His eyes kept flittering over to you. He was battling an internal war, blaming himself for the wound on your side.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You straightened your posture and collected yourself the best you could. There would be plenty of time to dwell on the difficulty of the situation later. Right now you had to pick yourself up and move forward. There was no point in feeling down. “This isn’t anyone’s fault. I’m going to be fine.”

“For now you will recover.” Raiden placed one hand behind his back and walked away from the trio. “When you are feeling better, then we will decipher your vision using my gift. That way we can try and understand the truth of what you’ve seen.”

“And the shadow?” You weren’t sure what that even meant. You wanted to know more.

“We will see what we can uncover.” Raiden assured you. “For now you will be taken to the infirmary.”

“I’m fine.” You didn’t get to argue with them. Honestly, it was almost like you weren’t there and had no say in what happened next.

“I’ll take her there.” Kung Lao lifted you out of the chair without asking for permission or waiting for a response, cradling you in his arms.

“I can walk. My legs work fine.” The further you were from your visions, the more normal you felt. You were certain you could make the journey.

“Just humor me, will you?”

“Fine, but I’m annoyed,” you whispered but even looking at Kung Lao made your face hot. Liu Kang had turned away from you but the memory of the kiss they’d shared in the hall was still in the forefront of your thoughts. Boy, that had made things instantly more complicated than they’d been only a few hours ago.

“I’m willing to deal with that.” Kung Lao bowed his head to Raiden and then carried you out of the room.

***

Liu Kang listened to the footsteps of Kung Lao carrying you back to the infirmary. He gripped the prayer beads around his hand and felt their round shape press hard into his flesh. “How bad is it, Lord Raiden?” Liu Kang was grateful not to be left alone with his questions.

“It is unnatural, this affliction.”

“You said that but I know for a fact that she is not the first to speak prophetically in your temple.”

“Not her visions, Liu Kang. The shadow that hangs over her because of them. There is more to it than meets the eye. Something else. Or someone else. A creation of another world, I would guess.” Raiden walked past him. “I can see into your heart, Liu Kang.”

“What do you mean something or someone? A creation from another world? Can it be fought?”

“I will try to uncover the truth.”

“Why would anyone create this? And why her when there are many others with such a gift?”

“Because of what she has seen, Liu Kang. She saw a warning. If she saw more warnings and could communicate them then they would be valuable weapons against our enemies. More valuable as one who foresees than a fighter. Think of what we could prevent.”

“I will protect her, Raiden. From any shadow.” Liu Kang placed his fist to his palm and bowed.

“Of course you will. She is in more trouble than any of us have yet realized.”

“If we can get control over her arcana, then she can be that much stronger.”

“Yes, Liu Kang. There’s a storm coming, unseen, this is but the calm.” Raiden hung his head. “Liu Kang, about…”

“I know. I know that it’s complicated.” He was deeply uncomfortable discussing this with Raiden. It wasn’t Raiden’s place but if he thought you were of value as a seer, then he could see why it would concern him. “I cannot explain it. There is a thread of fate between us. Some greater purpose.”

“All I was going to say, Liu Kang, was to be careful.” Raiden smiled knowingly.

Liu Kang bowed again and then left without another word.

[avenging-criminal-bones]

After All This Time || Chapter Four

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 2128

CHAPTER WARNINGS: hehe i don't wanna spoil it, but angst, language, case talk, the usual

A/N: This is the longest chapter so far, and honestly it took less time than some of the other ones. I got really into it.

TAGLIST:

@kingofthetwats @wanniiieeee @uwu-sebastianstan @piggyinthesea @yoshigguk @thatisthemagic @errorcosplay67 @ivebeenthinkingboutu @big-galaxy-chaos @rynfoxsleeps @phoenixsnape1 @mojofun @pachiibatt @enjoymyloves @thenewnormalforensicator @word-scribbless @zezezena @chelseyjoyce @ellyhotchner @lora21

AS ALWAYS, Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

* * * * *

Halfway to the drive you remember to ask, "So who are we interviewing at the school?"

"James O'Malley, who is the principal, and Margaret Solokowski, one of three first grade teachers." His response is automated as he looks to the right out the window.

Your mind drifted back to the case from when you were only nine. It was the reason you wanted to be involved with S.W.A.T or the FBI.

Your brother was playing in a sand pit at the local playground when you turned around to go buy the two of you some ice cream cones from the truck driving slowly past.

There was a priest with a group of nuns walking through the park, discussing something about the "Lord's Will". You didn't believe in any of that stuff then, so you rolled your eyes and told the nice man what ice creams you wanted.

"There you go, kiddie."

"Thank you!"

Spinning on your heel, you licked your own ice cream as you went to get back to Joey, your brother.

Something was wrong though. When you looked, he wasn't there anymore. He had been playing with a group of three kids, and none of them were there anymore. Turning back around you remember the Priest had been driving away with the nuns. You saw the two other childrens' mothers crying and talking, flailing their arms wildly at each other.

"Joey? Joey where are you," you wandered around the play set for a minute and started crying when you couldn't find him.

Wandering up to one of the adults scattered through the play area, a mother with a small baby in her arms, and said, "Can-" a sniffle before, "Can I borrow your phone? I need to call my mom."

"Of course, honey," she shuffled the little girl to her other hip and grabbed the phone from her other pocket. "Here you go sweetie. Is there anything else you need?"

"No. Uh, thank you. I'll bring it right back."

Taking a few steps away you called your mother's house number, suddenly grateful for the pressure she had put on you from a young age to remember her house number and her cell number.

"Mom-"

Hey, honey,- what? What's going on?"

"Mom, I can't find Joey. He's not here. I just walked ten steps to get our ice cream and he's- I can't find him, mom. And the other two kids were gone too. I don't know what to do, he's gone. Mom-"

"Honey?"

"I can't find-"

"Y/N!" You finally stop rambling and quiet down enough to hear your mom's voice and your own heartbeat. "We'll find him, okay? Tell whoever's phone this is what happened, and then wait there for me okay? Ask the lady you borrowed this from to call the police and help you explain what happened and I'll be right over there okay? It will take me five minutes, okay?"

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too, Peanut."

Hanging up the phone you do as she told you and explained your situation to the kind woman with the baby. She agreed to help you call the police, even though the other parents had probably already done it.

"Are you okay, Y/N?"

"Y/N? Hey. Y/N! You missed the turn..."

You snap out of your flashback and look around you at the road.

"What?"

Hotch let out and annoyed puff of air and pointed to the road that you were about to drive past. "That's our turn. You know, to get to the school. That's right there."

Mumbling under your breath you turn the signal on and slam the breaks after seeing there was no one behind you. You smirk to yourself when you see that the man in the passenger seat had to throw his arm out so as not to hit the dashboard.

"Agent, if you do not drive this vehicle with care, I will personally revoke your privilege of driving on the clock," he threatens as he adjusts the lapels on his suit jacket.

You ignore him and park in front of the school, getting out and straightening your own blazer.

"You let me do the talking, L/N." He declares as he brushes past you, not bothering to hold the door on his way.

Murmuring under your breath, you follow him in.

Almost immediately, you are stopped by someone from campus security and flash your badges in reply. The guard simply nods and sends you through, pointing to the principal's office.

"Mr. O'Malley? I'm SSA Aaron Hothcner, and this is Agent L/N. We are here from the BAU in Quantico investigating the homicides that I'm sure you've heard about. I was wondering if we could ask you a few questions about the victims; they were all students here." Hotch's air of professionalism was back full force rather than his childish antics only five minutes ago.

O'Malley shakes his head slightly, a red tint coming to his ears as his eyes scan the clock. "Actually, I don't have the time right now. I have another meeting coming up shortly-"

"Sir, your meeting isn't for another fifteen minutes," the secretary states before turning back to you and Hotch, "Surely that's enough time for you and your partner to ask him a few questions?" The young woman looks at you when she speaks, her eyes silently pleading. She must know something as well.

"No, Anne. I really don't have time for that-"

"Hotchner, if you want to talk to Mr. O'Malley, maybe I could ask," you pause, reading her desk tag, "Ms. Brink a few questions?"

She nods her head eagerly, and as much as Hotch wanted to argue, he has seen her desperate look as well and would have suggested splitting up if you hadn't.

"I was just about to say that. Mr. O'Malley is there somewhere we could go that's a bit more private?" Hotch questions, signaling behind him, "If that's a break room that would be perfect."

O'Malley nods, standing up. He walks towards the door, opening it as he turns back to look at the you and Hotch. There's a glint of something in his eyes and-

And he's running.

"Go! Hotch, go, go, GO!" Before you even finish urging him to chase the principal he's running after the man. "Anne, if you know anything suspicious about James O'Malley you need to tell me, and you need to tell me now."

Tears well in the younger woman's eyes as she nods, fists bunching in the skirt of her peach colored dress. "He, uh. He has made- you know. S-sexual advances on a few young girls. He did the same to me, b-but when he d-did it to me he said he would kill the next girl that w-was in here if I told..." Anne breaks into sobs as she hangs her head low.

"Anne, listen to me. None of this is your fault. You were only trying to protect these girls and yourself. This has been extremely helpful, thank you, Ms. Brink." Gently you reach over and squeeze her hand, sliding a box of tissues towards her before quickly slipping out of the office.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you call Garcia.

"BAU Sperm Donation: You jack 'em, we pack 'em. How can I help you my pretty?"

You don't have time to laugh, though you so badly wanted to. "Pen, I need to to pull everything you can find about James O'Malley. He's the-"

"School principle of Opportunity Elementary. He's 37 years old, comes from a highly religious background- Papa Bear was a Priest. He- oh boy. Oh no. This is not good." You hear computer keys clacking on the other end before you prompt her to keep speaking.

"Yeah, Pen? What's not good?"

"This guy," she clicks her tongue, "And his entire recent history when you deep-dive in my Fancy Google. This guy is on review for child molestation and rape charges."

You slam your fist against the nearby wall and curse lowly, "Do you have any large property in his name? Anything big enough to have some sort of shrine, or altar? Also, with enough room to... oh God... cleanly chop off a-"

"Ah! AH! Stop! I get it. I'm looking."

After a moment she sighs, "Bingo! 142 Walnut St. right outside of the town that the school is in. Twelve minutes and forty-three seconds from your current location. I'll ping the directions to you and notify the rest of the team. They are slightly further away, so you and your partner should get there first. Hurry, Y/N, he might have another kid there."

"Bye, Pen." You hang up and start running to the SUV, surprised to see Hotch there, already waiting in the passenger seat. You wonder why he hadn't sat on the other side and remember about the key in your pocket.

Getting in, you slam the door, not bothering to buckle and say, "Take my phone and pull up the directions from Pen. That's where our guy is going, she think he has another child based on video footage from this morning's video feed of the back entrance of his office."

Hotch surprisingly doesn't argue, instead doing exactly as he was told while you sped in the direction you had come from before.

Withing ten minutes you had made it to the house, not saying a word to Hotch as your mind ran through all of the possibilities of what you'd find. This was your first child case since you moved to the BAU and honestly you weren't handling it very well.

When you made it to the barn, you snatched your gun from your holster and kept it aimed towards the ground. Motioning to Hotch you signal that he should go left and you will go right.

Clearly, he didn't like you making all the calls, but he was so upset about losing the guy the first time around that he didn't have it in him to command you down.

Beginning your move-in, you start to circle the barn just how you had told Hotch and kept your gun up as you crept towards the final turn to the back of the barn. Out of the corner of your eye you see the rest of the team start to jog over to the barn from the forest behind the bar, they must have decided to use a different entrance as hopes to catch O'Malley off guard.

Taking a moment to steel yourself you keep your back against the side of the barn before spinning in a quick step to raise your gun again and aim at the final possibility of where he could be-

But it was just Hotchner.

"L/N, he must be inside, turn back the way you came and we'll go in together." His voice is stern as you nod in compliance and turn around, raising your gun as you see a little boy. With a gun trained on him...

It's Joey. Joey is there dead in front of the church, a big cross burned into his chest... his five year old body.

That's all you see, just like that day so many years ago. That's all you see, so you jump forward in front of him and you-

Fall. You fall. And you can't tell why.

Blood, there's blood under you. Who's hurt?

"Y/N! Oh my God, Y/N!" Anything between your name being said the first and second time is lost in your fuzzy ears.

You don't realize why the voice is yelling at you until you feel the burning, fire-like pain, radiating up your left side.

After a moment, you feel hands on your shoulders, one of them moving to slap you in the face a few times to get your eyes to open, which they did.

"Hey, you need to stay awake. Okay? Y/N! Open your eyes. Look at me." Emily transfers her hands to your hip, pressing down on the wound there roughly. Your body instinctively crunches up to get away from the new, uncomfortable pain, but Emily presses down on your chest, keeping you to the floor.

You try to mumble something, but the second your mouth opens, it's as if you completely lost your voice.

"Shh, Y/N, you're going to be okay, you just need to keep your eyes open okay?

"What the hell, Aaron?! You were standing right there, man, why didn't you go to her?! She was fucking shot and you just stood there! You're our leader, start fucking acting like one!" You can't pick out all the words, but you can tell that it's Derek's voice and you smirk to yourself.

The last thing you heard before passing out was Derek ripping into Hotchner like you'd been waiting to for months.

[missscarletta7]

The Broken Crown- Chapter 1

Hello! So this is my first Peaky Blinders Fanfiction.  I own nothing, except for the few OCs I created. 

This story is also on Wattpad and FF.net under the same title if you want to read it there as well--- however be warned it is not as edited as this post and I changed the name of one of the characters because I thought it was a better fit... lol!

Summary: All Margaret Shelby ever wanted, was the opportunity to write her own story. Only now is she beginning to realize that her brother may have already written it for her...

  Enjoy!

OoOoOo

"He's a ghost, he's a god, He's a man, He's a guru,

You're one microscopic cog, In his catastrophic plan

Designed and directed by his red right hand"

~Red Right Hand~

1919

She had that dream again, the one where she had to decide which door she would open. Both doors were identical in every way. Yet, she just stands in the empty room lit as if by candles; frozen in place; The weight of the decision ultimately waking her out of-

No, that wouldn't do, a dark-haired girl thought as she scratched out the words she had just written down. In a small bedroom on the second floor of number Seventeen Watery Lane, sixteen-year-old Margaret Shelby sat on her bed, or rather the bed she shared with her older sister. Dressed in the long white nightgown that had once belonged to her mother and with a pen in hand, she scribbled down more words in her brown leather-bound journal resting on her lap. The journal was gifted to her by her Aunt Polly on her most previous birthday. Upon receiving it she couldn't wait to fill its pages. She liked writing, ever since she learned how to form her words into a cohesive sentence on paper. It had been an outlet, a distraction from the "shit-hole" that was Small Heath, Birmingham.

As a child, she had the fondest memories of taking the drawings her eldest brother Arthur would sketch and would accompany his rendering with an original story. She took pride in how much he would always be so impressed and relished when he called her “his little genius". As the years passed, she believed if she could write and publish a story that was good enough, then maybe one day she could provide for her family. Give them a way out of their current situation. Not that she knew much of how dire their situation really was. To their credit, her family tried their best to shield her, as well as her youngest brother Finn, from feeling the effects of living a life in the slums. She was lucky in that way, most of the girls her age had dropped out of school and had a child of their own already.

Her thoughts of prose were soon interrupted by familiar sounds causing the pit of her stomach to sink. Even after three months of him being back, she doubted she would ever get used to it. Opposite from her bed, through the thin wall with floral green wallpaper which had been peeling off for years, muffled cries could be heard. Maggie knew exactly who it was, her brother, Tommy.

She placed her journal onto the thin cotton sheets and traveled into the hallway. Before she knew it, she was standing outside the door of her older sibling. Taking a deep breath, she decided against knocking and slowly opened the door.

"Tommy?" she whispered into his candlelit room. She could see he was awake. Lying flat on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Go back to bed, Mags," the second oldest Shelby ordered, but the girl hesitated.

"I thought I heard yelling," she sounded apologetic, before taking a whiff of the air. "Do you smell that?"

"I said back to your bloody bed," his harsh tone surprised her.

This time she did listen, gently she closed her brother's door and made her way back to the empty bedroom she once was in.

OoOoOo

The next day, Margaret exited the small school she attended that was located right on the edge of Small Heath with her best friend Cara Ryan by her side. The girls had played together for as long as their memories had served them. Cara was a stylish and talkative girl who stood at a height of five feet and six inches. Dazzling green eyes sparkled and her straight honey blonde hair fell upon her shoulders. Her family did better than most, the Ryan's own a dress shop that is very popular amongst the younger women, Ada, in fact, is a frequent customer of the establishment. Though the word 'customer' was a loose term, the Ryan's like most shop owners in the area were obliged to give anyone with relations to the Peaky Blinders whatever they wanted. Mrs. Ryan's and the two oldest sisters operated it, and in her spare time, Cara could often be found working in the backroom, sewing buttons and beads to fabrics. The family had a deal, in a year's time Cara would come to work for the shop full time, but until then Cara could continue her education.

"Can't believe Henrietta's having a baby," Maggie said aloud, as shorter and younger students ran past them excitedly.

"I can," Cara replied smugly. "That girl would open her legs up for any sod that gave her a second glance."

"I feel bad for her." She admitted thinking of the fifteen-year-old whose life was now forever changed.

Cara shook her head, "Don't it's her own bloody fault."

After rounding the corner, they both saw Ross Murray. A thin nineteen-year-old with dark hair standing at five feet and eleven inches, resting his back against the dull red brick wall, smoking a cigarette. Cara stopped them in their tracks and waved at the young man. "All right, Ross?!"

Maggie smiled at her friend, she liked Ross, he'd always looked out for her and Cara like they were his own sisters. They had all been in school together up until the moment Ross was kicked out for beating up another boy named Jonah Smith. In all likelihood Jonah may have had it coming. He never had the ability to let go. For example, just last year Maggie would have to constantly have to turn down his advances for over a month. Due to the reputation of her family, attention from boys was a rare occurrence. Which she didn't mind, she never really felt romantic feelings for anyone. However, Jonah took advantage of her brothers absence. One day he even cornered her when she went back to the classroom to grab the jumper she left behind. Thankfully Jonah eventually stopped, and never bothered her again.

Getting kicked out of school didn't seem to bother Ross though. Once he turned eighteen, he enlisted to help with the war effort. He completed basic training within the required three months, and according to the letters he would send her and Cara, he was held in high esteem with all of his commanding officers. Just as he was about to be shipped to France, an armistice was declared. He'd managed to find a job working at the BSA factory rather quickly, but when he came back into town Maggie could tell he had changed. He now had this mentality that made him seem as though he was ready for a battle, yet had no one to fight.

"Cara, Margaret," he acknowledged, stubbing out his cigarette on the bricks he had rested his back upon "Where are you two heading, aye?"

"Just going home," Maggie told him, readjusting the bag on her shoulder.

He came closer to them, "I'll walk with you. Birmingham hasn't been the safest place now that all these blokes with fucked up brains are back."

"Look at that Mags," Cara said happily, and he allowed her to take his arm. "The only gentleman in Small Heath"

Maggie smiled knowingly at the sight. Since Cara was ten years old, she had been smitten with the dark-haired boy. Cara would frequently turn down other offers in hopes that Ross would one day ask her to be his girl. They both hoped that it would happen soon, because in Cara's words "She wasn't getting any younger".

"Don't know what you two keep going to school for," He expressed to them, as they began to walk in the direction the girls needed to travel. "What more is there to learn?"

His comment made Maggie shrug, "It's something to do."

"Yeah, most girls our age who aren't in school are either whores or mothers." She agreed.  "Or both."

They continued chatting about their school day as they walked closer into town. The canal that ran nearby as well as the different establishments were coming into view. "Mags, is that your brother?" Ross asked, pointing to a couple of boys.

Maggie turned her head to where her friend was pointing. He was right, her younger brother Finn, was running around in front of the pharmacy with Isaiah Jesus. He must have skipped school again. "Oi!" Maggie called out angrily, and Finn froze in place "What have you been up to all day, hm?"

"Please don't tell Tommy," the ten-year-old begged.

Maggie was about to tell him off, but she was caught off guard by the arrival of a person exiting Compton's, "Ada?"

"Oh, hello." The dark-haired beauty clutched the paper parcel tighter in her hands, clearly caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her younger siblings. "Heading home then?"

Maggie nodded and Ada continued, "I'll join you." The older sister then turned to her brother "Right Finn?" The boy scowled, but nodded all the same.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Maggie told her friends, still trying to process what her sister was up to.

Cara didn't seem to mind her best friends' announcement to depart. Turning to the hazel-eyed boy she asked, "Fancy accompanying me to the confectionery?"

He looked over to the Shelby family first, "Will you three be alright by yourself?"

Ada looked amused at his worry, "We'll be fine. I doubt anyone would mess with us." He accepted her answer with a nod and led Cara to the candy shop.

As the water rushed in the cut, Ada and Maggie walked down the sidewalk arm in arm. Finn wasn't too far in front of them. He was running and jumping around like a madman. That boy always had so much energy, Maggie found herself thinking. No wonder he skipped school, the poor thing probably could not sit still.

"That Murray boy has aged well hasn't he," Ada commented, finally breaking the silence, "Have you two?"

"Ada!" The younger sister cried out in surprise.

"Just asking." She shrugged, "Jesus you're a prude"

"Everyone's a prude compared to you" she retorted, "What were you doing at the pharmacy?"

Ada didn't reply though, instead opting to purse her lips. They were almost home now; Maggie could even see Pol heading to the house, traveling towards them. She was about to wave at her aunt until she was distracted by Finn, who ran around in front of his sisters. Her heart clenched when she noticed a black metal object in his hand.

"Finn, where did you get that gun?" she questioned, yet the youngest Shelby only giggled in response. 

"Oi! Quit messing around," Ada scolded, moving forward in an attempt to take the weapon away. "You shouldn't b-"

BANG! The sisters screamed and Aunt Polly, who had witnessed the whole event transpire, rushed over from down the street. Both the girls tried to catch their breath and a shocked Finn looked like he was trying to mentally process what had just happened. 

"The hell were you thinking?!" Polly scolded, snatching the gun from his hand. "Where did you get this?!

"He nearly fucking killed me!" Ada screeched pointing to her brother.

"I-I found it on the sideboard of the shop." Finn spit out as they watched his face concave and he soon began weeping in fear. "I-I thought it was empty. I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

His tears pulled on Maggie's heartstrings, but Polly wasn't having it. She pushed the sobbing boy towards Maggie ordering, "Take him home, and no more playing with guns. Next time you leave them be." 

The young boy nodded and allowed his sister to lead him back home."I didn't know Mags, I swear" he cried out again.

"I know you. You can apologize to Ada once she's feeling more forgiving" she expressed, her arms wrapped around his small shoulders.

OoOoOo

Childhood had molded her into the person she had become. Now she understood that...

Maggie internally groaned and scratched out what she had just written. No, that was definitely not good enough. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a chuckle. Her eyes were taken off the page by Ada, who was getting ready for her date with some mystery man.

"What's so funny?" the younger sister grumbled.

"You," Ada smiled as she brushed her hair in front of the small vanity mirror, "And how seriously you take yourself."

Quickly she closed her journal, wanting to change the subject "So, what was the family meeting about?" Maggie asked, not genuinely curious.

"New copper’s coming to town," Ada replied unbothered, more interested in fastening her shoe buckle.

"When I went downstairs, I caught Finn trying to listen through the door. Told him off for eavesdropping," the younger sister snickered .

"Can you believe that little tosser?" Ada said, putting on her paste earring. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately. He could have killed me today!"

"It was an accident, Ada." She reasoned, opening her journal once more, "Pol already told him and John off, what more can you do?"

"I can still bitch," the older sister huffed, before looking at the book in her sisters' hands. "Are you ever gonna tell me what you're writing about?" Ada asked pointedly, now completely dressed in a white fur coat that rested over her dress.

"Are you ever gonna tell me who you've been going out to see the last few months?" Maggie shot back jokingly. 

Ada responded by pantomiming the locking of her lips, which only made the younger sister smile. "Cover for me?"

"As always," The girl assured Ada before she quietly opened and closed the bedroom door.

It was about an hour later when Maggie began to hear the familiar muffled cries. Feeling hopeless as she stared at the green papered wall.

OoOoOo

The following day was mostly uneventful for Margaret. She'd gone to school and heard all about Cara's "date" with Ross. According to Cara, he was a complete "gentleman", much to the blonde's disappointment, though she still clung onto hope. 

Now she stood in the kitchen with her Aunt and sister making dinner, continuously kneading some dough until her skinny arms began to burn. Hopefully, this batch of bread would last long enough for her to enjoy. Last time she made bread her siblings had eaten it all, not saving any for her. Upon hearing the door slam, she and her aunt stopped to glance over to the door.

"Holy Shit!" The girl exclaimed, witnessing her eldest brother who was bloody and beaten, being assisted by John into a wooden chair.

"Finn, go find Tommy and tell him what happened," Polly commanded. Like a shot, Finn was running out of the room, but not before Pol hurriedly added, "And tell him we need a shit ton of more alcohol!"

Polly then immediately began to gather gauze and rods of wood to make a splint, "Margaret, start heating up water, then cut this cloth up in stripes." Nodding at the directive, the girl began to do just that.

"The fuck happened?" Ada interrogated, arms crossing in front of her chest.

"Was told some of the men found him like this outside the cinema," John explained.

"Do you know who?" Maggie heard her sister continue as she put the kettle over the flame, but Arthur remained silent.

"I'd like to know as well," An aggravated Polly chimed in.

This time Arthur did speak. “That Belfast copper,” the mustached man spit out, "I'll discuss it more once Tom gets here."

They all fell into silence, the only noise coming from Maggie who pulled out a chair to sit next to her brother, and quietly began cutting the cloth Polly left for her on the table. "Do you think this is enough?" Maggie asked her aunt after she finished.

"Should be plenty, love," Pol told her, taking one of the strips to start mending his hand.

"John, wipe the blood out of his eye," Ada told the third eldest sibling who was just watching the ladies scrabble around as they tended to Arthur.

"Since when did you give orders?" John asked incredulously.

"I'm a trained nurse." The sister stated.

Though seeing as John wasn't budging Maggie rose from her seat and began to wipe the blood herself.

"Don't make me laugh. It hurts my face," Arthur joked as Polly bandaged him up. "You're a nurse like Mags here is a writer."

His comment caused more annoyance than Maggie cared to admit. With her index finger, she pressed onto a forming bruise on his cheek with great pressure, instigating a string of curses to come out of the eldest man's mouth.

"Oops," Maggie said insincerely. This caused Arthur to look to his aunt, wondering if any reprimanding would be given to the girl, but Polly just gave her brother a 'like you weren't asking for it' look.

 "I bloody am!" The older Shelby girl whined to John.

"You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling," John corrected her.

"Not before I learnt how to stop somebody from choking," she shot back.

"I'm not bloody choking, am I?" Arthur spoke gruffly.

"You will be when I wrap this cloth around your neck." She told him as she poured hot water from the kettle into the bowl.

"Let me see him." Tommy's voice was heard as he entered the kitchen. "Well, have this" Tommy passed the bottle of rum and Arthur took a swig. Grabbing a rag, he immediately got to work tending to his brother's face.

"He said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. 'National interest', he said. Something about a robbery." Arthur explained. "He said he wants us to help him"

"We don't help coppers," John said immediately, disgusted at the thought.

"He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said -" He paused a moment before continuing, "I said we'd have a family meeting and take a vote".

Everyone remained silent, and frankly, that was enough of an answer to the eldest. "Why not? We have no truck with Fenians or communist," Arthur said exasperated, before heatedly asking Tommy. "What's wrong with you?"

Tommy continued to stare back at him, before asking his aunt, "What the fuck is wrong with him lately?"

"If I knew I'd buy the cure from Compton's Chemist," Polly answered, staring at Tom who stared right back.

OoOoOo

Being alone at night was something Maggie had gotten used to now. The cries next door, however, that was something entirely different. Sighing to herself, she decided to give it another go. Once again, she rose from her bed, and ventured into the hallway. This time though she brought her journal with her. Not long she stood in front of her brother's door, allowing herself to open it. 

Again, in the candlelit room, she saw him lying in his bed staring at the ceiling, though she couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. "Still awake?" she asked.

"Can't seem to fall asleep," Tommy mumbled calmly. She took his stillness as permission to enter.

"Do you remember when I was a little girl and you used to read me books to make me fall asleep?" she asked, moving closer to the bed, "I used to love those voices you'd do for all the different characters from the picture books."

He nodded and he couldn't help the ghost of a smile while thinking of the memory. Unlike his other siblings, Maggie was the only one who would beg him to read to her. It was something they bonded over.

"If you want," she continued, motioning her hand to hold the journal up. "I can read you my story." Tommy was silent as he looked at the journal for a moment, before Maggie added, "I just thought maybe I could try to help you sleep like you did for me."

"Only if you do voices" he stressed jokingly, then shifted his body to make room for her on the small mattress.

"Remember," she squished next to him leaning her back against his bed frame. "This is a work in progress."

"I won't judge you too harshly" he replied, watching her open the journal that lay on her lap.

"Long ago when she was young, she believed that what she saw in her dreams could be a vision of what was to come. It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of-"

"A what?" He interrupted.

"An amalgamation" she repeated. "Do you not know what an amalgamation means?"

"No, I do. Didn't think you did."

"Shut up. You're supposed to allow my words to lull you to sleep."

"Sorry, please continue"

"It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of all her childhood aspirations, fears, and perhaps a little  too much whiskey. With this knowledge she found herself yearning for-"

By this point, Tommy had closed his eyes and was half-listening to the words his sister read from her journal. It wasn't half bad what she wrote. He reckoned by the time she was his age she'd actually make something of herself all with those stories in her head. Perhaps make a career out of it, possibly even get out of Small Heath. It was to be the start of a new decade, a new time, who knows what would happen? When he finally made it back from France, her face was the first face that caught his attention on the station platform. It shocked him. No more was the little girl he would read stories to, but in her place stood a smiling young woman. She had changed so much during the time he was gone.

Come to think of it, they'd all changed. Arthur was head of the family, in charge of the business, and had done a decent job of it. But that was before France, he was different now. He quickly noticed the change in his brother and how he couldn't think straight anymore. Arthur's personality became more explosive, as well as violent. John, well he had become more reckless, especially after a few drinks got into him, and since Martha's passing the drinking had only increased. 

As for him, well he was the one who had changed the most. He used to be carefree, joke and laugh, but now he was more solemn and even more protective of his family. Constantly worrying about how Arthur couldn't handle the business anymore, how John couldn't be alone anymore, and him? Well, he couldn't stand to see his family scrape and scrounge in the slums of Small Heath in order to survive any longer. No, not anymore. New copper sniffing about or not. No matter what Polly said, Tommy saw an opportunity with these guns. He wasn't about to turn it down. He just had to play it smart. As Maggie continued her reading, Tommy could feel himself slowly begin to drift out of consciousness and into a dreamless sleep.

[zebrabaker]

Families Lost and Found

Here we go, a brand new story, ft Jasonette, with a side of badass Marinette.

Marinette had many fond memories of being young. Her Mama singing her ancient lullabies as she combed her jet black hair. Visiting with Aunt Talia twice a year, and meeting her Godson Damain Al Ghul. Celebrating Chinese New Year with her maternal family in China, and being slipped small weapons along with her hongbao, eating jian dui with her cousins in between lessons. Her Aunties teaching her how to use her beauty to beguile and bewilder. Her Uncles showing her how to hold a knife. Her Maa-Maa showing her how to sew hidden pockets into all her clothes, and Ah-Gung showing her the many pressure points on a man that could cripple someone in seconds. Her older female cousins taught her how to use her bu yao as a deadly weapon, all the soft spots on a person that would hurt the worst when stabbed with the sharpened hair ornaments. Her older male cousins lessons were in subterfuge and misdirection. By the time she was seven, Marinette was well aware that most girls her age weren’t taught these things. But hey, Marinette was the next head of the Parisian branch of the Triad. Her younger cousin Bridgette would be her second in command, as she was the daughter of Maa-Maa and Ah-Ghung’s second child, Marinette’s Uncle Lee Cheng. Marinette knew her second and third cousins were scattered across Europe, ruling their branches with a velvet covered iron fist, as they were all taught, by family law.

She had been on her way home from a ‘family gathering’, really just a meeting at the front Cousin Yo owned, a large rental hall that could be equipped for any even. In reality, it was a trimonthly gathering of all heads of the Triad’s French branch. They were all, aside from her and her mother, from different cities across the country. She was almost back to her penthouse when she saw it, a man leaning against the wall of her building and staring at the five star Italian restaurant across the street. The restaurant that just so happened to be her eighteenth birthday gift from Mama, and a front for a smuggling ring the Triad had started almost ten years ago. They didn’t smuggle drugs or guns, but refugees, people who needed a new place to call home for some reason or another. Could he be a cop? Or worse, from the Russians? They had been rearing their heads again, trying to push their experimental heroine blend onto Triad streets, and Sabine had been sure to stomp them into the dust.

Waving her hand nonchalantly, her guards paused, and Marinette advanced on the man. His eyes snapped to hers, and his gaze seemed to bore into her very soul. His hair was peeking out from under a rather beat up beanie, and most of it was black, aside from a few white strands hanging over his eyes. She could see that under his mismatched clothes, he was wrapped like a mummy in bandages.

“Sir, are you okay?” She asked, raising her hands to show she means no harm.

“I... I’m from Talia. She said to find -” He manage to get out, before his eyes roll back in his head and he drops like a brick.

“Boys!” Marinette calls, and her guards, two men from the Italians, ‘gifted’ to her as goodwill gifts on her sixteenth birthday, Tony and Bobby, leapt into action, grabbing the man under the arm and throwing his arms over their shoulders. Marinette grabbed her key card from her phone wallet and swiped it at the keypad that opened the door to the lobby. The building was owned entirely by members of the Triad, filled with families of those in service to the organization. It was securely guarded 24/7, and the higher up in the building you were, the higher ranked you were. Marinette was in the penthouse, an entire floor to herself. Her guards and closest confidants had apartments on the floor just below her. Waving off the doorman, Marinette made her way straight for the elevator bay and pressed the call button for her personal elevator.

The ride was agonizingly slow, but after what felt like hours, the car arrived at her hallway. Digging her keys out of her purse, Marinette quickly unlocked the door and ushered her guards inside.

“Set him on the couch and go home, I need to check him for injuries.” Tony and Bobby shared a discomforted look, but nodded and obeyed her orders. Marinette quickly grabbed her first aid kit from the bathroom, a massive, clunky thing that could probably stock a small doctor’s office for days. When she came back, the man was still asleep on the couch, breathing slowly and deep. Now that she looked him over more carefully, his clothes were clearly stolen, as none of them seemed to fit quite the same. With a sigh, Marinette drew the medical scissors from the case and began to casually cut away his jacket. Underneath that was a hoodie, with presumably another layer underneath. This would take a while. Sighing, Marinette pulled away and threw aside the scraps of material. There didn’t seem to be any blood on him, but she would have to keep going to be sure. After the hoodie came a long sleeve shirt and a tank-top, and he was left coated in bandages from the waist up. He was swaddled like a damn mummy, oddly enough. He had mentioned Auntie Talia...could she have? No, Great-Uncle Ras would never allow some random outsider or underling to be bathed in the pits, he was far too possessive for that.

Right as she started cutting upwards from the hem of the man’s pant legs, he sat bolt right up, gasping. He saw her and scrambled backwards, while Mari just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“Where am I?” He demanded, eyes darting around the living room.

“Relax, my name is Marinette, and you’re in Paris, in my penthouse. I found you outside, you collapsed. My guards and I brought you in. I started cutting away your clothes so that I could assess you for injuries. I believe you’ve had some experience with my Auntie Talia and her League, and she sent you to find me. She would have said to find ‘she who rises’. It’s the meaning of my name, Marinette. Now, please sit down. I’m not armed, and I don’t intend to harm you. Look, you can pat me down if you need to make sure I’m not armed at all.” The man gave her a wary look, before taking a deep breath and sitting back down on the couch, perched on the very edge of the cushion. Good, Auntie Talia had instilled him with some preservation instincts.

“So, Auntie? I’m going to assume you’re related to Ras and Damain, then.”

“Not at all.” Marinette scoffed. “My family runs the Parisian Triad, and all future heads are trained by the League for a year and a day. Ras trained my mother at the same time as Talia was beginning to train. They consider themselves sisters, making Talia my Auntie. I am, however, Damian’s godmother. He’s a sweet boy, once you put aside the homicidal tendencies. Are you hungry? I can have the place across the street, the one you were staking out, run us some food. Anything specific you want? Their ravioli is to die for.”

“That would...that would be great. I’ll eat anything.” The man (who looked to be around her age, late twenties) seemed caught off guard by her kindness.

“So, it appears you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Marinette commented, texting James, the head chef of Nona Gina’s to bring over her usual plus a plate of ravioli.

“My name is Jason. So, you mentioned the Parisian Triad.”

“Yup. My Mama is the current head, I have a year and a half before I take over. Tradition states I become head on my twenty-fifth birthday.”

“Any chance you’re looking for a new body guard? I’m gonna need to find a job, and I can guarantee that I’m good.” Marinette paused, thinking for a moment. Both her guards were more than adequate, but Bobby had come to her last week, and asked to be transferred to a more sedate job, as his wife (Laura, a lovely woman) had just birthed their third child, and he wanted a little more time off. Jason, on one hand, was likely League trained, and probably had no where else to go. On the other hand, he was a complete unknown, and it would be a week at least before she would be able to contact Auntie Talia and have a response as to whether the man was telling the truth. Well, Bridgette always said she was too soft.

“Good news for you is, I am. You can start as soon as the family doctor looks you over and gives you a clean bill of health. The issue is, what will your cover be?”

“Er, cover?” Jason asked.

“I’m going to need an excuse to suddenly have a random guy escorting me all over Paris, and it’s not exactly common knowledge that I’m the next head of the Triad. I’m also something of a public figure here in Paris.” Marinette blushed at the reminder. Her brand, MDC, had taken off not long after she graduated, thanks to Jagged bragging about her at every turn. “I mean,” she snorted. “we could go the route of claiming you’re my boyfriend or something.” Giggling, Marinette stood and made her way towards her room. “Try to think of something, while I grab a quick shower. I can’t stand family meetings.” Leaving Jason seated on the couch, lost in thought, Marinette shut her door behind her and fired off a quick text to the number saved as “Auntie T’ in her main phone, before grabbing a pair of pajamas from her walk in and heading to the attached bathroom. She had some thinking to do.

[genevievemd]

Love You Home (2/5)

Chapter 2: Fear

A/N: How are we feeling after chapter one? Ready for more pain? Cause this is just more pain. But I do gift you the joy of Ethan x Harper friendship, also some fatherly love from Naveen. And a nice cameo of Dr. Tanaka and Bryce.

Also let me know if you catch the Grey’s Anatomy easter egg, an ode to Mark and Lexie that I managed to sneak in there - rather painfully, it may be slightly ooc but it was just too good to pass up. It also ties into the flashback that happens next chapter. (Which is how i justified it being ooc lol)

Buckle up, fam jam. Grab your tissues and emotional support items. She’s a long one. 

Pairing: Ethan x MC (Genevieve McClure)

It isn’t fair, to be in this position again. Standing behind a closed door, watching through a tiny window as his colleagues rush to save Genevieve’s life. 

Ethan did this a year ago - in a different hallway, on a different floor, with a different assailant. But the feeling was the same. The hands of fear squeezing his throat until there’s no air left in his lungs. 

It’s excruciating. Being on the outside, watching and praying that she won’t be ripped away from him. That his entire world won’t crumble in the next five minutes. 

He takes a breath and looks through the window again. Naveen is there now, his mentor’s eyes wide with terror at the sight before him. Even from this distance, Ethan can still see her covered in blood.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” a small voice breaks Ethan out of his fog. He forgot Sienna was with him, that she was the one to pull him out of the ER and into the hallway. 

“I, uh… I don’t know.” 

“What happened?” Dr. Varma’s voice comes from behind them, standing there with the rest of Genevieve’s friends. They all look as terrified as he feels, all love Gen just as much as he does and it’s a small comfort knowing he’s not alone in his fear. 

But they’re all staring at him, as if he has the answers and he doesn’t, not this time. All he has now is a crippling, gnawing anxiety blocking out any rational thought he could have. Sienna must see his inability to answer Jackie’s question, quickly stepping in the tell them what’s happened. 

At least last year he could still think straight, last year he was able to stay focused on finding a way to save her life. But not now. He’s too in love with her now to do anything but think about the dreadful notion that Genevieve could very well die on him. Before he has the chance to propose, before he can profess his love and commitment in front of all their family and friends, before he can watch her belly grow and they bring a new life into the world, before they buy a house with a yard for their kids to play in, before he can witness her surpass him as one of the greatest diagnosticians in the country. 

He’s never wanted anything in his life more than a life with Genevieve. 

Ethan’s about to look through the window again when the doors fly open and Naveen steps in front of them. His face is full of sorrow and fear, another reminder that Gen is so overwhelmingly loved by everyone in the hospital. 

Naveen looks at them for a long moment, meeting Ethan’s eyes quickly before turning to the group of residents. “You’re no good to Dr. McClure or your patients just standing here. Dr. Greene and Dr. Trinh, I need you to take over Genevieve’s patients. Dr. Varma, run up to the diagnostics office, tell Mirani and Mendoza what’s going on, that they’re going to have to handle the transfer patient from Hartford Hospital on their own, and to not page Dr. Ramsey under any circumstances. If they have a problem they can page me. After that I want you all to get back to work. We’ll let you let you know if anything changes.”

It’s rare that Banerji uses a commanding voice, so rare that it takes Gen’s friends all but one second to straighten up and leave. Bounding down the halls and away from him and Naveen. 

Ethan takes a breath, trying to steady his shaking hands before he looks at his friend. “She was going home to grab her dress. She forgot it by the front door this morning. I shouldn’t have let her leave...If she didn’t, if I was with her -” He can’t bring himself to continue, to hear his voice crack with emotion for another second. 

This isn’t who he is. He doesn’t get emotional, doesn’t get lost in feelings and things that are out of his control. But Genevieve has always brought out a different side of him. Even now, when she’s probably half dead and lost to him forever, her influence is just as strong as ever. 

“You can’t think like that. You couldn’t have known, no one could have known.” 

“The paramedic said she didn’t even make it to the car. She was right outside.” 

“Genevieve is strong, she made it through before and she’ll do it again.”

Ethan nods, keeping his gaze focused solely on the grey linoleum. He wants to believe that, believe that she’ll come back to him, that this isn’t the end. But it’s proving harder by the second, the longer he waits for answers the more difficult it is to believe she’ll survive. 

His fingers reach into the pocket of his white coat, gripping the ring box tightly in his hand. “I should’ve asked her already. I’ve had the ring for weeks. I shouldn’t have waited.” 

“You wanted it to be perfect. And it will be. Once she’s recovered and -”

“I can’t lose her, Naveen.”

“You won’t.” Naveen pats him on the shoulder, but it does nothing to sooth the ache in Ethan’s heart. “Come on, let’s get out of the hallway and go sit in the waiting room. I’ll stay with you.” 

He doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay where he is. He can see her from here. But he concedes, letting Naveen lead him into the waiting room. 

They sit for what feels like hours, Ethan’s gaze never leaving the direction of the emergency room. In reality he knows its only been minutes because Harper quickly emerges with Bryce and a few nurses wheeling Gen in with them. She’s saying something to him about internal bleeding and a punctured lung, but the rest gets lost in the deafening pounding in his ears. He’s can’t focus on anything but Genevieve, somehow looking smaller than normal against the red stained  sheets draped across the gurney. 

“Did you hear me?”

“What?” Rather reluctantly Ethan tears his eyes away from Genevieve to see Harper now standing in front of him. Her brows are knit together in concern, he’s not entirely sure if its concern for Gen or for himself. “No…”

“Go say goodbye, just in case.”

Ethan nods wordlessly, running over to Gen’s side. She’s still unconscious, face pale and almost lifeless. He can feel the air leave his lungs again as he takes her in. She’s battered and bruised, her gorgeous blonde hair caked with blood. There’s a gash on her forehead, just below her hairline, dark and red. 

He tentatively brings his hand to her cheek, fingers lingering on her skin. She’s almost cold to the touch, like her warmth has been sucked out of her. Her ever radiant sunshine eclipsed by the hands of death.

Ethan can feel the unfamiliar burning behind his eyes, the tears rushing back, as he holds her face in his hands. “Don’t you dare die on that table, Rookie. Do you hear me? You fight like hell and come back to me.” He knows they’re all watching him, he can feel their eyes on his back as he looks down at the woman he loves. Ethan lowers his voice to nothing more than a whisper, ensuring that only Genevieve can hear him. “Remember the house with the yard and the two kids...that I want to marry you. Don’t give up. Come back to me, Genevieve. Please, we’re meant to be.” 

Ethan stares at her for another moment, trying to commit every feature of her face to memory. 

Just in case. 

He takes a breath and leans down, gently placing his lips to Genevieve’s forehead. He’s not sure if she can hear him, if she even knows he’s there. But a small part of him is screaming that she can, that she knows. That she’ll hear his pleas and come back to him. “I love you, Gen. I love you. I love you.”  

“We have to take her now, Ethan.” Harper brings her hand to his shoulder, gently pulling him away from Genevieve. 

She gives him a small smile, a nod of determination before she, Bryce and the nurses disappear behind the doors to the OR hallways.

Ethan turns back to Naveen, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sits in the chair beside him. The fear is coming back, rising up from the pit of his stomach. He falls forward, resting his head in his hands. He lets out a ragged sigh as Naveen runs a comforting hand down his back. 

“Dr. Banerji?”

They look up to see a bewildered intern, standing awkwardly in front of them. 

“What is it?”

“They, uh, they told me to come find you and tell you that they just brought in the guy that attacked Dr. McClure. He’s in the ER with the police.”

Ethan feels the anger consume him, his veins erupt with a fury unlike anything he’s felt before. His feet move before he realizes what he’s doing, burning a path towards the ER. 

“Ethan, where are you going?” 

He can hear Naveen call after him, his foot fall a mere second behind Ethan’s. But he ignores him, pushing the doors of the emergency room open. 

“Where is he?” He all but barks at an unsuspecting nurse, the rage he feels fueled even more by the confused look on her face.

“Who?” 

“Who the fuck do you think I’m talking about?” 

“Ethan, leave it be. Let the staff and the police handle this.” Naveen reaches for him, grabbing his arm like his father would as a child - trying to keep him out of trouble, keep Ethan from making a mistake. 

He swivels his head, taking in every trauma bay and every patient that’s admitted until he finds his target. They’ve put him in the same bay that the paramedics used for Gen and it like adding kerosene to the fire burning him from the inside out. 

Ethan makes to the trauma team in record time, bounding across the still crowded ER in seconds. He’s not entirely sure what he’s about to do - punch him, wring his neck, drive a scalpel though his heart. Anything is better than letting the man who put Genevieve at deaths door breath for another second. 

“Woah, Woah, Woah.” Tanaka flies in front of him, grabbing Ethan’s fist before it can make contact. “Ramsey, he’s high. He’s hallucinating. He has no idea what he did. Back off.” 

“Back off!? Genevieve’s in surgery, she could die because of him.”

“And punching him in the face won’t change anything.” Tanaka stares him down, matching Ethan’s fury. “Get out of here and focus on your girl.”

“He’s right, son.” Naveen is behind him again, with another fatherly hand on Ethan’s arm. “Let Tanaka treat him. He’s covered in her blood, he’s not going anywhere. Focus on Genevieve and let the police handle this. Go.” 

Ethan looks between Naveen and Tanaka before turning away, loudly knocking over a tray of supplies before he walks out of the ER. 

————

4 months ago...

He can hear her laugh from halfway down the hall. That singsong in her voice so recognizable, he’s certain he could easily pick it out in a crowded room.

Ethan lets curiosity get the best of him, following the sound until he finds her. She’s in her elderly patients room, the one they rounded on that morning. Her back is to the door, looking down at the chart in her hand.

“Does he work in the hospital?”

“You’re really not gonna let this go are you, Mrs. St Clair?”

 “No.” Lottie smiles brightly at Genevieve, her eyes gleaming with mirth. “It’s that criminally handsome attending from this morning, Dr. Ramsey, isn’t it?”

Ethan smiles to himself as he sees Gen look up quickly, her head tilting ever so slightly. “How did you know?” 

“I saw the way he looked at you. It was the same way my Edward used to look at me.”

He can’t see Genevieve’s face but he know’s she smiling. The small one that starts at the corners of her mouth, the one where she has to look away to keep from blushing. 

“Do you love him?”

“Yes, very much.” She looks back down at the chart in her hands, “How long were you and your husband married?”

“Almost 55 years when he passed.”

“Wow.”

Lottie smiles mischievously again, “Indulge an old woman for a moment would you?”

Gen laughs, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Sure.”

“How long have you two been together?”

“He’d probably tell you one year, but I say it’s closer to two. There was a lot of back and forth at the beginning, but I still count it as being together. There was no one else for me.”

“Would you marry him? If he asked?”

His breath catches at the question and it startles him for a moment why he desperately needs to know the answer. 

“In a heartbeat.”

“Does he know that?”

“I think so. But he’s said in the past that he wasn’t sold on the idea of marriage. Which I’m okay with. As long as I have him, I don’t need a ring.”

Lottie hums, “You know, when Edward and I first started dating, he said the same thing. Then one year later he got down on one knee. I teased him for years about it and he would always say ‘Lottie, when you meet the love of your life, everything changes.’” 

Ethan smiles, walking away before Gen can realize that he was listening. He’s not ready to hear a weeks worth of teasing about how he was absolutely eaves-dropping when he’s always so quick to call out others for doing the same. 

He walks back to the diagnostics office, fully intending to focus back on the team’s case and ignore beating of his heart. It hits him, as he steps back into the glass-walled room, that if he believed in such things as fate and destiny, it would so clearly show that Genevieve’s the one. The love of his life. His future. 

He wants everything with her. All the things he’d always deemed trivial or foolish. Things he never thought were in the cards for him. Ethan wants them, with her. More than he’s ever wanted anything. 

————

It’s hours before he sees her again, once she’s out of surgery and safely in a patient room. The halls are dark, night falling quickly over Boston. Ethan looks down at his watch as he makes to Genevieve’s room. 

Right now, they should be sitting in his box at the opera house. Listening to the final beats of the music as he prepares to get down on one knee. Right now he should be proposing instead of walking into her dimly lit hospital room and seeing her hooked up to machines.  

Ethan slowly walks over to her bedside. She’s breathing on her own, which is a good sign, the gash on her forehead stitched up. The blood is gone from her face as well, her porcelain skin no longer hidden beneath splotches of red. 

“Christ, Gen…”

He takes her hand in his, thumb running across her now bruised knuckles. A small desperate laugh leaving his lips as he realizes they’re defense wounds. His vivacious and fierce love did her best to fight off her attacker. But her fingers feel like ice, cold and frail. Gen’s hands are always cold, something he teases her frequently for, but this feels different. It feels deathly. 

The thought of her still being so close to death sends another wave of trepidation over him. 

There’s a knock on the door and Ethan turns to see Harper with the scalpel jockey behind her. “She made it through surgery. It was touch and go, but -“ She stops suddenly, no doubt seeing the anguish written all over his face. “Ethan,” 

He clears his throat, doing his best to swallow back the tears that are once again burning him from the inside out. “Thank you.” 

Harper turns to the resident behind her, “Lahela, go update your friends.”

“Sure thing.” He disappears quickly, running down the hall. 

“She’s going to be fine.” Harper gives him a small smile, walking fully into the room. “You picked a strong one.”

Ethan lets out a wry laugh, she isn’t wrong. Genevieve’s determination and strength are one of the many things he loves about her. 

“Naveen told me you were planning on proposing tonight.”

“Has he told the entire hospital?” Ethan rolls his eyes with a deep sigh, he had explicitly told Naveen to keep his plans to himself. 

“Probably, but we’ve all made sure not to let it slip in front of Genevieve. I have to say, I never thought you were the marrying type.”

“Neither did I, but Gen is -” Ethan sits in the chair next to Genevieve’s bed, running a hand down his face. “She’s the love of my life, Harper.” He falls back against the chair, no longer able to hold back the tears that have been just under the surface all day. 

“I know.” Harper moves to sit on the arm of the chair, a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “The hardest part is over. As long as she makes it through the night, I expect a full recovery.” 

Ethan closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, taking a deep breath to settle himself. “I have to call her parents.” 

“We can have a nurse do it.”

“No, it should be me.” He moves to stand, with every intention of getting up and out of the room but he feels frozen. His eyes falling back onto Genevieve. 

Ethan closes his eyes again, reaching down to a place he hasn’t been to in a long time. A place where he can hide his emotions and focus, where his walls are sky high and protective. A place that Genevieve had long since demolished. 

“Take a second, Ethan.”

He shakes his head, leaving the room without a second glance. “I’m fine.” 

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

a/n: how are we feeling after that? lol you still have a whole chapter and a half of angst after this before we get to the fluff. And just know, I am delighting in your pain, its bringing me joy lmao - Sara <3

tag list: 

@queencarb, @overwhelminglyaquarius, @me-and-my-choices, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @crazy-loca-blog, @a-crepusculo, @drakewalkerfantasy, @ohchoices, @adrex04, @udishaman, @drariellevalentine, @custaroonie, @archxxronrookie, @terrm9, @maurine07, @openheartthot, @gryffindordaughterofathena, @aworldoffandoms, @caseyvalentineramsey, @dulceghernandez, @elwetritsche75, @emotionalswift2, @thegreentwin, @starrystarrytrouble, @utterlyinevitable, @angela8754, @fireycookie

LMK if you want to be added or removed from the list :)

[cherrybracelets]

dance in the dark (one)

words: 4.5k | warnings: 18+ content. smut, drugs and alcohol mentions. mentions of blood, weapons, serial killers, cults, etc. DO NOT interact with this fic if you are under 18

masterlist | requests

pairing: professor!spencer reid x student!reader

an: this is part one of a continuing prof reid fic, i have no update schedule for this so please bare with me lmk what you would like to see also send more prof reid requests i wanna do little non plot side blurbs to this fic with your ideas!!!!

What do you think the crowd at a sleazy downtown bar on a Wednesday night looks like? Here’s a hint- it’s pretty pathetic. If you’re at this place on a week day, really any night at all, you’re probably not in the best place. And that was true, for you. Although from the outside it appeared you had everything completely together, the truth you tried so desperately to lock inside was clawing it’s way out- and you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold yourself together. 

Tomorrow was the start of your last year in grad school, something that should be a major accomplishment. But you were transferring here, after some unfortunate events that happened last semester. You’re not talking about that, though, remember? It’s a new year, a new city; you had the chance to move on from your past. But the only way you could do that is if you... kept it locked inside. 

But you’d been doing that all summer, pretending to be someone you’re not, even using a fake name with strangers. You could completely reinvent yourself, and no one would ever know. And as you downed another jack and coke, you stared in curiosity at the lonely man on the other end of the bar, flipping through pages of what seemed like an exceptionally boring book. 

He caught you looking at him, to which you quickly glanced away to pretend you weren’t, but you caught a slight smile out of the corner of your eye. You stared at the rows of alcohol behind you, avoiding looking in any direction, especially his. But you felt yourself smiling, a handsome man who had no idea who you were. Who didn’t know your name. That was something you couldn’t say before you were here. 

“That guy down there bought this for ya,” the bartender huffed, his deep and raspy voice perfect matching his large and intimidating exterior. You smiled down at the glass, a perfectly mixed Jack & Coke with a lime. You raised the glass up to him and shook it, letting the ice clang against the glass. 

“Thanks for the drink,” you said, raising your voice so he could here you. 

“I’m not... super great at the ‘walking up to a pretty girl and saying hi, thing’. So I figured that was my best bet.” He smiled, taking a slow sip of his own drink, which looked like scotch. 

“Can I come sit with you?” You asked, looking at the empty seat next to him. 

“Of course,” he grinned, clearing his papers and readjusting himself in the seat. “I’m, uh, Spencer, by the way.” 

(Y/N),” you responded, playing with the straw in your drink. 

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?” He asked, a serious tone to his voice. 

“Of course,” you replied, hesitantly. 

“Are you having an exceptionally bad day?”

“Hmm,” you thought, your eyes locked on the handsome man in front of you. “I think I’m having an exceptionally bad year, maybe years plural.” 

He laughed quietly, a deep chuckle, a relatable response. He knew more than anyone how miserable life could be. But this week, and most specifically today, has been exhausting for him. And he saw you, he saw the perfect way to relieve some stress. 

It didn’t take much longer until you were back at his place, making out on the overly expensive leather couch in the living room. His hands climbing up your body, nails digging into your flesh each time he grinded himself into you. Your hands were tangled in his hair, the smell of fresh strawberries and a hint of coconut from his shampoo. 

By the time you were both completely naked, he already had his mouth exploring your clit, his tongue playing games with you. He bit down on your inner thighs, sucking and nibbling at your lips. He added two fingers into you slowly, curling them perfectly to hit the right spot every time. 

“I think I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, your body writhing with pleasure, his mouth and fingers still taking care of you. He quickly stopped at your words, sitting up and pulling his fingers out of you. He licked his hand, tasting you, a devilish grin on his face. 

“You can cum when I tell you to cum. Turn over.” He commanded, grabbing your hips and flipping you over to him. He pushed on the center of your back and you arched, pushing your ass up for him. You could feel him position himself at your entrance, and slowly sliding himself in. You were surprised by his length, a slow whimper escaping your lips. 

“Am I too big for you, baby? Can you handle it?” He sounded concerned, but an underlying tone of sarcasm and gloat in his voice. 

“I’ll be fine,” you muttered, determined to take him. You felt the palm of his hand on your ass, rubbing the cheek slowly. It quickly lifted off, and came back down hard, a loud slap as his hand hit your bare cheek. You whines loudly, a mix of pain and pleasure overcoming you as he started to fuck you faster and deeper. 

You felt him deep inside of you. He was the biggest you’d ever had, and with ever pump into you he seemed to climb deeper. The feeling of being under him, his length fully overcoming your body- you felt so submissive, you belonged to him. His hands gripped tightly into your hips, pulling you back into him as he pounded in and out. 

“Can you handle this baby girl?” He yelled out, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back towards him. You yelped as he did that, the feeling of your hair being pulled sending shivers down your spine. 

“I fucking love it,” you responded, feeling the need to praise the man who was in charge of your body right now. 

“I want you to cum,” he instructed, his voice stern. You worried about what he’d do if you didn’t follow his instructions. You let yourself succumb to him, giving him full control of your pleasure. You started to feel a warmth spreading through you, preparing your body for a high of pleasure. After a few more seconds, you finally reached your peak, loudly announcing it to Spencer and whoever else could hear. 

The sound of the pleasure he brought you, Spencer came quickly after that, pulling himself out of you at the last minute and cumming on your back. He pushed you down flat afterwards, and you laid there with him for a moment. He stared at you, covered in him, his property. In that moment, you belonged to him. 

After you cleaned yourself off, you threw your clothes back on and got yourself together. 

“I gotta go, I’m starting class tomorrow,” you explained, trying to sneak out without being awkward. 

“I’ll see you again soon. Our story isn’t over,” he muttered, pointing towards the door and winking. You laughed initially, but realized how weird the comment actually was as you were walking out. 

Luckily, your Uber only took a few minutes, and didn’t force you to talk. You scrolled mindlessly through instagram, thinking about classes, the thought of Spencer still stuck in your mind. As weird as it was to say, you truly didn’t think it would be the last time you saw it. You had a weird feeling deep inside that he was a very important person. 

But, it didn’t matter, because you lived in a city with 700,000 people, and the chances of seeing him were slim to none. You didn’t even have a last name to find him on socials. You didn’t know his job, if he was even from here. In fact, you were quite surprised to realize you had just let a man you barely know fuck you like that. But damn, you did not regret it. 

You crashed as soon as you got back to your apartment, setting your alarm for class tomorrow and passing out as soon as your head hit the pillow. You had your usual string of nightmares, waking up every few hours, covered in sweat, your heart beating through your chest. You took a few sips of water and fell back asleep, only for the whole cycle to repeat a mere hour later. When your alarm finally woke you up, you were groggy and nauseous, another night of no sleep taking effect on you. You dragged yourself out of bed, silently hopped in the shower and let the hot water cleanse the night away from you. 

You brewed a weak cup of coffee, poured it into a travel mug and headed out the door. You were terrified of today, a heavy pit sitting in your stomach. You kept your headphones in the entire commute to the school, drowning out the conversations of others around you. There was no possible way they could know you here, but you still always felt that the whispers were about you. You avoided as much eye contact and interaction as you could, walking through the campus. 

Luckily the building where your class was wasn’t too far, and you got there relatively quickly. Your first class was called Mass Atrocity: Early Warning and Prevention, technically and elective course, but something you were extremely interested in. Your program was called Conflict Analysis and Resolution. You wanted to be badass, take down cults and serial killers, talking them off a ledge. You wanted to go back in time and prevent Waco. You knew you could do all of these things, you knew you could be the best, because your brother was a killer. 

It was why you moved from your hometown. After he was found out, it was unbearable to be around people who knew you. You couldn’t escape the hate, the public humiliation. You hated him just as much as anyone, but that didn’t matter. People were convinced you two were killers together, especially since everyone knew what you wanted to do with your life and knew you to be a huge true crime junky. 

You had to get away from there, escape your past identity. You could’ve stopped him, if you knew what was happening. But the truth was, you had no idea. And you hated that, you shamed yourself every day for not catching on to him. You, of all people, should have known. But now, you will spend the rest of your life stopping anyone you can. You had too, you couldn’t let them hurt their families the way your brother hurt yours.

So here you were, in a brand new city, a new last name, a new life. You had a chance to start over, be a new person. You could learn from some of the best professors, at one of the best schools in the country, only a few miles from DC. Homeland security, the FBI, CIA… everything you had ever wanted, right here. Sitting in this classroom, people filling in around you, you had your whole life ahead of you. Your future was unfolding itself right in front of you. 

And then he walked in. A brown leather briefcase to match a blue suit, his hair sloppily pulled behind his ears, a tie loosely around his neck as if he got ready in a hurry this morning. He probably overslept, since he was out late at a bar and brought a girl home. You stared at him, your stomach flipping as he took his laptop out of his bag and began to set up for his lecture. You tried to get up and leave, turn around and pretend you never saw him, but you were trapped on either side, unable to escape. You slouched in your chair, hiding behind your laptop. 

“Good morning everyone,” he said, his voice raspy and low, a clear sign of exhaustion. “I am Dr. Reid, although I would prefer Spencer. I teach a lot of the courses for Conflict Analysis, so you better get used to seeing a lot of me.” Spencer laughed lightly, his eyes scanning the crowd to see his new students. He looked approving, nodding over the people, and then his eyes caught you. 

He stopped in his tracks, locked on your face, your eyes moving quickly in random directions to avoid his gaze. You finally caught him, and he furrowed his brows at you, a look of disappointment. He looked away quickly and scanned the rest of the crowd, still looking discontent as he tried to shake the confusion away and begin his lecture.

He didn’t look at you once through the entire class. You were smart and took your notes silently, not asking questions or making a sound. He was an extremely captivating person, his stories and the way he taught so encapsulating. He was brilliant, by far the smartest person you ever had the pleasure of meeting. There wasn’t a thing he didn’t know the answer too, and you had so much you wanted to ask. You knew he could answer so many questions for you, specifically about your brother. But you vowed to never speak of him again, especially to a professor that you not only admire, but recklessly fucked just the night before. 

Spencer wrapped up class, giving everyone a few final notes and instructions before saying his goodbyes. Before everyone was out of their seat, he interrupted the shuffle to say one final thing. 

“Miss. Isaacs, could you speak to me for a moment regarding your registration?” He looked up at you for the first time in ninety minutes, and looked desperate. Your fake last name still rang odd in your ears, and it took you a moment to realize that he was asking for you. You nodded to him submissively, walking out the aisle and down the stairs to meet him at the podium. 

“Do you mind if we go to my office?” He asked loudly, making sure the other students heard him speaking normally to you.

“Sure,” you whispered, following him out the door and down a hallway of offices. He stopped at his, fumbled with the keys, and opened the door to a very tidy office. You closed the door behind you and sat on one of the two chairs that were for visitors. He walked behind the desk and sat in his chair, a frustrated groan as he sat back. 

“We need to talk about this.” He snapped, knowing that you knew exactly what he was talking about. “I can’t have slept with… a student.” 

“Listen, I promise I won’t say a word, okay? I can transfer out of your class too, make it not an issue…” 

“You have to take my classes to graduate. I’m…” he softened, leaning back in his chair and taking a deep breath. “I’m not gonna ask you to do that. You’re extremely bright… I remember getting your application. You deserve a spot here… I just don’t want you to lose that because of this…” He rubbed his hand over his chin, trying not to raise his voice too loud. 

“Thank you for saying that. You were brilliant out there today… I was completely enamored by you. Why did you leave the BAU to teach?” You asked abruptly, only realizing how inappropriate it was to ask that after it had already come out of your mouth.

“You know, that’s probably pretty personal, you don't have to answer that.” You covered your face awkwardly, wishing now you could just leave and not make this interaction any worse. 

“No… it’s okay. There was just… so much pain all the time. And most people take that as ‘I couldn’t handle that pain anymore,’ but truthfully, I had become so numb to it, it scared me. I needed to get out so I could learn to feel again.” Spencer looked at you, his heart feeling a thousand times lighter after speaking his truth. “I’ve never told anyone that. Not quite sure why I told you.” 

“I… I’m really sorry. Sometimes it is really easier to pretend things don’t affect you than deal with your true feelings. I can really relate to that,” you laughed, remembering all the pain you were currently trying to escape. 

“You are very, very beautiful,” Spencer interjected, his eyes exploring you, his mouth slightly open in concentration as he focused on your almost perfect facial features. 

“Thank you, Dr. Reid,” you whispered, feeling a creeping heat on your face as your cheeks began to blush. 

“I’d appreciate it if you called me Spencer.” He moved his eyes from your body to your own eyes, staring right through you. You felt completely unlocked in that moment, like he could see right into your brain and read your thoughts and secrets like a book. You knew you could close yourself up, hide away from him, but a part of you didn’t want to. The exhaustion of holding a heavy secret around ate away at you, and it would be more than nice to have someone who could carry that weight with you. 

But not him, he was your Professor, and this was your future. You broke your gaze with him and sat up straight, looking away. You scanned through pictures on his wall, the same group of people in multiple photos. He had many books on the wall, some in languages you didn’t even recognize. There were piles of magazines and papers on the floors, a layer of dust on the frame of the floor, and a fireplace that was littered with ash. The air held a musty stench, with a hint of air freshener trying desperately, and failing, to make the room smell good. 

At first glance, this office seemed tidy, that of a person with their life together. But the details were where that theory fell apart. He was holding on to his exterior, pretending he was okay, but inside this man was a mess. He was exhausted, overworked, and due to the multiple empty scotch glasses lying around, heavily drinking.

“You alright?” Spencer asked, his voice breaking you out of your own thoughts. 

“‘Sorry. Zoned out for a second…” you muttered, still looking around the room, trying to notice any other displacements. “I should probably get going.” You stood up quickly, grabbing your jacket and bag and heading for the door. 

“You’re in another one of my classes tomorrow. I checked your schedule,” he hesitated, looking at his computer for confirmation. “Will I see you?” 

“I guess I don’t have a choice, right?” You raised your eyebrows at him, waiting for another comment, but he had none. You left after a few seconds, closing the door behind you as you left. You leaned up against the wall outside of the office, trying to ground yourself. You took a few deep breaths and checked the time, realizing you needed to get to your next class soon. You quickly walked to the stairs and headed towards your next class, your head still buzzing from Spencer that you weren’t even sure if you’d be able to comprehend anything. You took a seat in the next room, putting your head down in embarrassment as you waited for class to begin. 

The next day you got to sleep in a bit more, but it didn’t make much of a difference. You still spent most of the night dealing with nightmares of your brother, but you had a new dream that scared you more than any of the others. You were sitting in one of Spencer’s classes, taking notes casually as he lectured. As he continued his powerpoint, the lights went dark and the slide changed to a picture of your brother. Everyone started pointing at you, calling you a killer, screaming profane things about your family. A light shined on Spencer, who was pointing and laughing with the rest of the crowd, walking towards you and pointing a gun to your head. Right before he pulled the trigger, he whispered “No one will ever love a killer.” His finger pressed down, igniting the gun, and…

Bam. You woke up. You felt sick, your heart racing and the contents of your stomach lurching around. You ran to the bathroom, vomiting as soon as you reached the toilet. You sat back against the cool tub, the cold feeling amazing against your hot flesh. You checked the time- 2:43 AM. You walked back to your bed and grabbed your phone, scrolling through instagram and twitter, trying to calm your mind. You had made brand new accounts with your new persona, paying bots to follow you so it looked legit. You didn’t want to post anything anyways, but you did love looking at baby animal pictures on the internet.

You were still feeling kind of out of it, and you reached onto your nightstand to grab your bowl. You smoked a little bit, trying to calm your body down enough to fall back asleep. Sometimes the marijuana and sleeping pills are the only things that calm you down. But you were feeling a little loopy tonight, and as you stared at your phone and tried to shove your anxiety deep down, you made a fatal mistake. 

New email: 

To: Dr. Spencer Reid, PhD

Subject: Empty

What do you do make the pain go away?

Sent from my iPhone. 

You locked your phone and placed it down on the nightstand, curling up in your bed and falling asleep. You surprisingly slept through the rest of the night without issue, waking up from a deep sleep as your alarm went off a few hours later. You had effectively forgotten about the email, and didn’t have any reminder of it since Spencer had yet to respond. You casually made yourself breakfast, preparing mentally to see Spencer in class again this morning. 

You left promptly after cleaning up, making sure you wouldn’t miss your bus to campus. You rode the commute with your headphones in, still ignoring the conversations of the strangers around you. You felt better today, at least knowing you’d be more prepared to see Spencer today than yesterday. All of that confidence immediately drained from your body as your phone vibrated, alerting you to a new text. Who the hell could be texting you? Almost no one knew this number. 

Maybe: Spencer Reid

In regards to your email- you can never get rid of the pain. I wish I had a better answer. 

You stared in awe at your screen, rereading the message a thousand times. At first you were confused, what email? But then you remembered, the fuzzy letters on the screen as you emailed him last night. Fuck. This wasn’t good. You opened the message, but didn’t respond, hoping he would see that if you read it and didn’t respond he would get the hint. There was no way you could go walk in class right now and go see him. But your bus stopped, right where you needed to get off, and although you desperately tried not to, your body got up and walked off the bus. 

You continued to walk all the way to your classroom, sitting suspiciously close to the front. A part of you wanted him, the part of you that craved destruction and drama, the part of you that you saw your brother in. It scared you, because each and every day you felt that part of you come to the surface a little more. 

Spencer walked in shyly, immediately scanning the crowd to find you. When your eyes locked, his face read a bit of relief, as if he was worried you wouldn’t come. He, too, wanted to see you. In all honesty, he couldn’t stop thinking about you since that night you spent together. He didn’t look at you long, realizing he had to start class at some point. He went through a similar introduction as yesterday, changing up a few things to meet this course’s curriculum. 

When he started teaching his content, you became just as lost in his words as you did yesterday. You listened intently to every word, felt the emotion as he did, even found yourself on the verge of tears as he wrapped up his lecture. You were stuck in awe, unable to move from your seat as he finished up class. He didn’t ask to speak to you this time, he just walked out the door without another glance in your direction. 

You needed to speak to him, at least to explain the late night email. You left the room and headed in the direction to his office, hoping you could catch him before a mob of other students. You could imagine you weren’t the only one who was engulfed by him. He was hot, and there were plenty of other girls in your class who would have their eyes on him. You started wondering how many students he’d fucked before you and felt sick, a wave of green envy washing over you. It was weird, how hurt you’d been at the thought of him with someone else, considering you aren’t even together. 

You made it to his office, and luckily there wasn’t anyone else around. You knocked lightly on the door and heard a muffled “Come in.” You opened the door to Spencer writing on some paper, his demeanor slightly surprised as you came through the door. 

“Mind if I close this?” You asked, motioning to the door. He nodded and put down his pen, sitting back in his chair. 

“What can I do for you?” 

“The email… and the text…” You looked down at the ground, now feeling embarrassed in his presence. 

“Sorry to have texted you out of the blue… I got your number from the student directory. All the, uh, staff emails are monitored, and I figured it would be best if we kept our conversation… private.” He bit his lip submissively, playing with his nails. 

“Why does it need to be private? It was nothing bad…” you enticed, watching the small smile on his face as you spoke.

“I’m afraid that it might end up there.” He dragged his eyes up to yours, meeting your gaze, seemingly digging into your soul once again. “Why?” 

“You know why.” 

“Tell me.” You waited for his response, trying yourself to now see through him, read what he was thinking. 

“I don’t think I can stay away from you. Something is drawing me to you and I can’t pull away anymore.” 

You stood up from your chair, walking slowly behind his desk and standing in front of him. He uncrossed his legs and looked up at you, your head tilted down as you looked at the man in front of you. You bent down on your knees between his legs, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. He kissed you slowly at first, surprise lingering in his lips, before embracing you, moving with much more aggression as he pulled you into him. 

You broke away from the kiss, leaving him confused as you stood up and walked to the other side of the desk. You sat back in your chair and stared at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything. 

“Can I take you to dinner tonight?” He asked, breathlessly. 

“Of course. 8PM work?”

[littlefreya]

Lines in the Sand

Summary: She is one of the best snipers serving in Iraq, but she is also suffering from an attitude problem and ironically has a hard time following orders. After an incident in her former base, she is sent to join the Special Forces unit led by Captain Syverson, who requires a talented sniper. 

Unlucky for her, Captain Syverson is a hard man who likes things by the book and according to order. He ain't got the patience for troublemakers.  

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Jessica Gallagher)

Word count: 1,784

Warnings: Smut in future parts, some foul language and sexual content.

A/N: Please enjoy, reblog, like. The world needs more Syverson, and I think he is one of Henry's finest roles.

Tagging: @writingaftermidnight​ @centaine​ @sciapod​ (who encourage me to write)  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Epilogue Chapter 1: Iron Maiden

Bad girl. 

That’s what they say she is; trouble, attitude problems. 

She heard all of it at psych evaluation. 

'Prodigy' is another word they use for her. 

And sometimes even 'asset'.

She likes this one the most. It strips her of all human notions. 

That’s the only reason to keep her around, and it’s not like she has any desire to go home anyway. Home is tough. Here in the desert, surrounded by death and horny virgins - that’s the easy part. 

“Killing is easy,” she said to the military psychologist who had her profiled from head to toe before being transferred to camp Warhorse.

“Gallagher?” a young soldier calls toward her, huffing and covered with a sheen layer of sweat as he runs toward her. She glares at him bemused, holding the fresh new uniforms which she just collected from the storage unit. 

“Yeah?" 

The boy's face is lightly freckled, his big doe eyes seem untouched by war and his freshly shaven buzzcut shows he only just arrived. 'More meat for the grinder'  she muses, just another kid who doesn't belong here, like the most of them. She knows the type well enough to write a thesis about it by now. If she thought she had any brain to do that sort of stuff. 

"Captain Syverson wants to talk to you.”

The kid looks her up, probably wondering why she even here. She got used to that type of stare a while ago.

“I just arrived here from another division” she explains, “didn’t even get into my uniform, what’s the fucking rush?”

The kid shrugs, looking slightly terrified as if she is supposed to be scared of Captain Syverson and shouldn’t be talking that way.

“Fine…” she sighs heavily, lowering the tip of her army hat and rolling her eyes.

As a soldier serving at the professional US army, Gallagher knows she has a shit-ton of issues with authority, yet she wouldn’t be in any other place.  

The Captain sits at his office, wearing his favourite red t-shirt and army shorts that cut at his knees. A small portable fan is perched on his desk, pinning from side to side and blowing tiny droplet of sweat from his ridged forehead.  

During that time of the year, the temperatures reach a level that won’t shame the fiery pits of hell. Even a southern-born man like him an effort dealing with the heat, but Sy suffers quietly, not even mentioning a word of the weather. Small-talk is a waste of time, and ain't nothing but the pretence that people care when they don't.

“Captain, Sir,” the kid walks into his room, saluting the Captain. “I have private Gallagher with me.”

The young woman follows, a blank stare on her face. She salutes toward the Captain, looking robotic and so indifferent he can tell already she had a great potential of pulling some stunt and getting detained. 

“Thanks, Private Holt, you may leave now," he answers in a heavy southern accent,  and voice low and rich like smoked Whiskey.

Holt leaves the room in a hurry, leaving Gallagher to stand quietly in front of the Captain. She has dressed in a plain white t-shirt and khaki field trousers while her eyes remain hidden beneath the tip of her hat. 

“Sit down, soldier." 

He commands, taking her file in his large dirt-stained hands.

She sits down quietly. Scanning the room with silence. It is yet another captain’s office, maps on the wall, guns and ammo. A "Slayer” labelled mug rests on in his desk with freshly brewed coffee, next to it is a deck of cards. No pinup girls posters apparent anywhere, not a perv unlike her former Captain, or at least he is hiding it in his bedroom.

He finally turns to look at her, manspreading on his chair with zero elegance or concern toward her. Why should she be treated any differently?

Captain Syverson is surprisingly a very attractive man. A big guy with broad shoulders and massive muscles. His cropped short hair does well to bring out his excellent bone structure while a few scars decorate his forehead and his upper left cheek. His strained face is covered with a thick, untamed beard which he strokes at his chin while thinking to himself. 

He takes one glance at her with his fierce blue glare, and then gives her his next command “Hat off, private.”

“Sir”. She replies with compliance, taking off her hat and placing it atop her folded uniform.   

One glance at her now exposed face, and he is forced to fight back a snort of laughter. He learned how to keep his emotions hooded in this job. She is petite, her arms may look strong yet quite skinny. And it’s quite a wonder that her skin is pale while serving in the middle of the fucking Iraqi desert. 

If this was anywhere else right now, he’d offer her a burger. This is the elite they’ve been speaking of? For fuck sake. Better be worth it. 

He is aware, of course, that she is pretty, they usually are. Chase and Annica for example. Sometimes he wonders if they send all the cheerleaders squad to his unit to fuck with him, since he can’t actually, fuck them.  

“That’s better”. He gives her a small smirk which quickly fades back into what seems like his usual grumpy face. 

“We’ll keep it short and honest, private,” he says, opening her file “You’ve been transferred here from your unit, they say you are a prodigy…”

“Take me out there, and I’ll shoot a rabbit between the eyes from 20 miles away.” she interrupts him, speaking coldly. 

“Did I give you permission to speak?” he asks her with slight anger. Never in his life, he had a young recruit dare to do so, especially not a woman.

She remains silent, knowing that’s actually the required response. For change, 

“Good. Your file shows amazing achievements” He throws her file in front of her with what seemed like an utter lack of actual interest “it also shows you have attitude problems.” His eyes meet hers as he says these words, his lips clasped to show some sort of severity. “Do you know what I want to know?”

Her blue eyes stare back into his with a dead gaze. 

He sighs, rolling his eyes “Permission to speak granted.”

“You want to ask if I’m going to cause any trouble.”

He nods, folding his arms together, his eyes travelling up and down her features for a mere second. 

“No, Captain.” She can’t promise him that even if a gun was pointed at her head, but she plays along. Everything in life is like her stupid video games anyway. Oh, she does miss those. 

“Good.” He gives her another hasty smile, the kind that doesn’t show any genuine care or affection and is just meant to move the conversation forward. “So you know why you’re here?”

“I’m very good with my sniper rifle, Captain." 

"It says you’re a fucking wonder”. He answers, not ashamed to curse in front of her, which she finds slightly refreshing. All the other men constantly apologize as if she doesn’t shoot people’s head-off for a living. As if women don’t see brutality as much as men do. Perhaps even more.

“Listen, I care about my men. Just live up to your name, be a good girl and you might just make daddy proud ”. He explains to her, not even regretting saying the finale part. It’s just how he talks and if she has a problem with that she might as well not be here. 

But she doesn’t even flinch. Instead, she replies with a small, nearly invisible smirk and nods. 

“Yes, Captain." 

The Captain’s eyes lit up with the charm of a child as he smiles widely for surviving yet another conversation with a new recruit and even though he has scruff all over his face she detects two large apparent dimples in his cheek.

Finally, he stretches from his chair and stands. She follows, noticing he is menacingly tall and seems to carry himself with sheer confidence and intimidation. 

"Come, I’ll show you your room." 

She follows him silently down the hall. He doesn’t bother with making any boring small talk which she is actually quite thankful for. It’s easier to not try to connect with people. The base is quite loud at the moment anyway, and she’d be unable to hear half of it.

"Men go here.” He points to one room by the end of the hall and then continues walking until they pause next to a closed room, “Ladies go here, you met the other girls?” he asks to which she shakes her head “Well you will. Girls get their own private shower in the room, in under no circumstances you are to use the collective shower room”

He pauses and turns to look down at her. Eyes growing sofer all of a sudden. “Anyone ever bothers you, says anything even slightly inappropriate, you come straight to me, you get it?” he asks her, managing to sound both severe yet still soft at the same time. 

“I’m just over there, by the end of the hall.” he looks to the other side, touching her shoulder without thinking, so she’ll face where he is pointing. His hand leaves her shoulder without any of them, giving it any attention. 

The Captain has his own little private kingdom at the end of the very house they turned into an army base, so it seems. She wonders if that’s where all the pinup posters are hidden at.

“Enjoy your stay, Gallagher”. He speaks, looking down at her face, wondering how long will it be before he has her in his office for some sketchy behaviour. 

“Thank you, Captain, I will.” she gives him another one of her forced smirks and turns away, walking into her new quarter. 

He takes one look at her as she turns from him, unable to resist his natural temptation to look at her ass. 

It’s small, tight, the way he likes it.

'Yes, she’s gonna be trouble.'

There are two girls in the room, sitting on their beds. A beautiful redhead with rather wide shoulders and strong arms. The other woman is somewhat petite as herself with tanned skin and beautiful dark eyes. They’re both looking quite curious to know her.

“The fuck is with your captain, walking around with severe big dick energy?!” she speaks out with sheer confidence.

The other girls look at her for a long moment, complete shock on their face by the content that came out of her mouth but then burst into laughter that can be heard all over the base. 

Clearly, she isn’t the only one who noticed.

[jgvfhl]

Number Lads! AKA me taking a hammer to canon :)

Well now we see some actual plot being affected by the character choices in this here little ol' story I'm writing. Damn this list is getting long... wonderful! (Read Part 1 - Part 2- Part 3)

Some gentle warnings for injury descriptions--specifically burns

ARC-0000 = Zero = d0nut man

CT-2222 = Do-si-do = Double Trouble

CT-3333 = Trees = Leafs

CT-4444 = Fours = Submarine

ARC-5555 = Fives = high fives

ARC-1409 = Echo = BetterDomino

CC-6666 = Sixes/Death = DEATH

ARC-7777 = Sevenset = RedBoiiiii

CT-8888 = Loops = Loopy

high fives: GUYS guys guys i think echo and i can get our hands on nines soon

d0nut man: “get our hands on nines”

d0nut man: well. I’ve heard stranger things out of one of our medics

BetterDomino: lol yeah us too

Leafs: nines? 212th yeah?

high fives: yeah echo and i just got the rundown for a mission with cmdr cody and gen kenobi and there was definitely a CT-9999 on the list

Double Trouble: oo what kinda mission??

BetterDomino: the kind you’re not allowed to know about

high fives: yeah :3

BetterDomino: and technically he shouldn’t even have mentioned it >_>

Double Trouble: oh ho ho

Leafs: do si do, gossip is not worth breaking classified information

high fives: but nines!!

RedBoiiiii: WE’RE GETTING A NEW NUMBER????

high fives: MAYBE

BetterDomino: very strong maybe

DEATH: classified missions = death trap

DEATH: the new guy might not even make it out, don’t get too excited

RedBoiiiii: life of the party, as usual

Leafs: well he is the more experienced of us in these things… so…

high fives: we’re not gonna die guys

Loopy: you better not :(

DEATH: you want some advice? if the seps point a gun at something, they’re going to shoot

DEATH: doesn’t matter how important it is to them or their cause. they will shoot it.

high fives: … noted sir

BetterDomino: thank you

RedBoiiiii: OYA DOMINO I LOVE YOUUUUUUU blease come back safe *bonk*

high fives: *bonk*

BetterDomino: *bonk*

____

Had Nines not been a member of the 212th for nearly two years, he’d probably be wondering if all of his general’s missions went this muja-shaped so fast. Well. Actually, he’d probably be dead. He rather liked not being dead, and hoped to keep it that way, despite the absolute and utter chaos happening around the Citadel’s lower airfield at the moment. The air was a haze of colors as blue, red, and green blaster bolts zipped through the air, combined with the five lightsabers whirling about the generals and commander. But right now, Nines was really trying not to die while pinned down behind this cargo crate.

The noise of a door drew his attention--ever so briefly--as yet more clankers emerged from the hellish prison. He could only take a glance before he had to duck back behind the large cargo crate he and two ARCs were using for cover. He looked over at the pair, watching one--Echo or Fives, he couldn’t quite recall at the moment--launch a charge at the new droids. Nines felt the detonation, and twisted back around to send some bolts towards the scattered droids. Kriffing hells, commando droids? Again? Stars, he really hated those buggers.

“General Skywalker!” Nines barely caught the tail end of the ARC’s warning as he returned to cover. “A droid is manning one of those turrets. They’re gonna blow up the shuttle, sir.”

Oh, hells no. Nines looked up, locating General Skywalker and General Peill on the little flying craft they’d commandeered from incoming assailants. It looked like they were heading towards the turret, then they disappeared over the edge of the cargo crate.

“This is our only chance!” Nines heard behind him from the same ARC. “We have to stop him.” He looked over just as one of the pair disappeared around the side of the crate, the other close on his heels.

“Echo no!”

Nines jogged over, hoping to cover the pair. Echo was running towards the shuttle’s ramp with a shield dropped by one of the commandos. Nines looked and saw at the same time as Fives--if that was Echo, the one still standing here was Fives--the commando droid at the turret’s controls turning the blaster barrels towards the shuttle.

Nines felt a horribly familiar cold lump sink into his gut as the seconds seemed to slow, green turret rounds creeping closer and closer to Echo and their only way out of this Maker-abandoned pit. But it seemed time hadn’t slowed for Fives, who was suddenly reaching to the ascension cable at the back of his utility belt.

He attached it to his blaster, aimed at his brother, and fired.

There was the distinct sound of the cable striking plastoid. A huge noise followed, managing to drown out the whizz of blaster fire. A wave of light and heat washed over the immediate area as the shuttle exploded. Nines’ eyes followed a chunk of the ship as it flew over the landing pad and destroyed the turret and the droid manning it, but then his attention was back on Fives. Fives, who was drawing in his ascension cable desperately as the rest of the strike team collected by the last way out of the landing pad.

“We need to go,” General Kenobi said, and no one was going to argue. “Now.”

“Fives,” Captain Rex stood next to his ARCs.

Fives was kneeling on one knee over Echo’s unmoving, singed, and smoking form, hastily detaching the cable from his brother’s chestplate. “I got him,” he said, and even for all the training he had, anyone would hear the distress underlining the urgency of his actions.

Nines cast his eyes over the fallen ARC. The plastoid of Echo’s boot had melted in the intense heat of the shuttle’s explosion. It wasn’t coming off until a medic was there to cut it off. Nines was grateful now for the filters in his bucket, keeping the smell of burning blacks and probably flesh out of his nose. Taking another look, he saw Echo’s right arm had suffered similar injuries--the side unprotected by the shield. But, judging by Fives’ concerted efforts, he was still alive.

As the team retreated, Fives finally stowed his cable and his blaster on his belt, hefting his brother across his shoulders and hauling them both up. Nines lagged between the two parties, waiting until Fives had caught up before picking up his pace.

“No man left behind, right?” Nines said, low enough to keep it between them.

“Not a kriffing chance,” Fives huffed.

_____

In a whirlwind of sulfurous stench, near misses, anoobas, crawling over lethal lava lakes, and the unfortunate death of General Peill, the greatly reduced strike team was finally aboard General Koon’s gunship. Fives carefully lowered his brother to the floor, leaning him against the wall. Captain Rex maneuvered over to them, standing between them and the other occupants like a human privacy screen as the gunship flew far, far away from the stinking hell that was The Citadel.

It was another hour or so before Nines had the chance to find them again. Echo’s injuries were the worst to come out of the mission, mostly because of the sheer number of casualties. Nines himself only suffered some relatively superficial bumps and bruises, so he was cleared from medical quickly.

“Where are you off to, Nines?”

The commander, too, had been quickly cleared, it seemed. Nines turned and waited for Commander Cody before starting for the other medbay rooms again. “Sir, I thought I’d check on the two ARCs. Fives and Echo?”

The commander nodded, switching his helmet to under his other arm. “I was gonna check on Rex, and he’s probably with them. I’ll come with.”

“The captain’s pretty fond of them, then?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” the commander smiled, though there was something bittersweet in the expression.

As he’d predicted, they found the captain and Fives outside one of the medbay rooms. Rex was seated on the bench between doorways, his bucket on the floor between his feet, a water bottle in one hand. Fives was on his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the room, his eyes only leaving the windows briefly at every pass. His bucket was resting on the ground near the captain’s.

When the two caught sight of Nines and Cody approaching, Rex made to stand, but the commander gave him a sharp look. “Sit down, Rex.” The captain slumped back down on the bench, where the commander soon joined him. “What’s the word?”

“There hasn’t been any kriffing word,” Fives growled, still pacing.

The commander’s brows scrunched. “It’s been over an hour.”

“I know,” Fives shot back with far more force than Nines would ever use towards a commander.

But Cody took it in stride, barely reacting to the added bite in the ARC’s words. He just nodded and leaned back against the wall like Captain Rex, whom he asked, “Have you both been looked over?”

The captain nodded. “Yeah, we’ve been cleared.”

Nines watched Fives pacing back and forth. He hadn’t gotten much of a chance to talk to Echo or Fives before the whole strike team went into carbonite. But, clearly, Fives needed a distraction. Nines had been around long enough, battle after battle, to recognize that.

He took a step forward, clearing his throat. “Hey, uh… Fives. What was it you were telling me about before we left? That… number group?”

Fives paused in his pacing, and some of the stress on his face replaced by slight confusion, then recognition. “Right. Yeah.”

The captain raised an eyebrow at them both. “Number group? Fives, how many people are you gonna tell about those guys?”

“Well,” Nines began, “he had a good reason. I’m CT-9999. Nines, sir.”

The captain chuckled. “I see.”

“Yeah, he didn’t get much out before we had to go under. Anything else I should know about these guys?”

Fives finally stopped pacing and sighed quietly, looking over through the medbay windows. “Yeah, okay.” He rubbed his eyes, his shoulders lowering as some of the fight left his system. It appeared he’d realized Nines was only trying to take his mind off his injured brother, and was giving in to the plan.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up while you’re at it, Fives,” Captain Rex told him, and despite the wording, it wasn’t a question.

“But--”

“Echo’s not going anywhere,” the captain said, cutting off Fives’ protests. “I’ll stay here, and I’ll comm you the second I hear anything.”

Fives sighed again. The captain had won, Nines knew. The ARC trudged over to collect his helmet from the floor by his captain’s boots. As he straighted up, the captain caught the back of his neck and pressed their foreheads together long enough to murmur something inaudible. Nines knew it wasn’t for him to hear anyway. But Fives nodded when he was released, and even Cody reached up to pat his chestplate. Huh.

“Food first or shower first?” Nines asked when he walked over to him. “‘Cause I’m starving.”

“Yeah, me too,” Fives admitted. “But, I think I wanna get the stink of that place out of my armor before I try eating anything.”

_____

After a fast shower, even by GAR standards, Nines found Fives sitting on the floor outside the ‘freshers in just his blacks and boots with his kit and a wet cloth, in the middle of wiping off the worst of the grime from the mission. He had paused, however, and was now fiddling with his wrist comm. Nines sat down next to him with his own kit to do the same.

“Any news?”

“No, I just remembered something…” Fives replied, clearly occupied. Finally, his comm blinked green as it connected with someone else’s. “Loops?”

There was a hesitant answer. “Fives…? Why can you comm me while I’m in hyperspace?”

Fives smiled triumphantly. “Don’t worry about it. Are you busy right now?”

“I mean… it can wait an hour or so. Why?”

“You wanna pop down to the mess hall for a bit?”

There was a pause. “Are you onboard?”

“Maybe.”

Loops stuttered out a few indignant syllables before demanding, “Did we just haul ass across hyperspace to pull you out of The Citadel?”

“Well, not just me, but yeah. Thanks, by the way, for whatever small part you played in getting us the hell out of there.”

“What in the nine hells were you doing in The Citadel, Fives?”

Fives rolled his eyes. “Can you just meet me in the mess and I’ll tell you?”

Another pause. “Fine, but I’m not happy about it.”

Even if Fives hadn’t filled Nines in on who Loops was on their way to the mess hall, it would have been fairly obvious by the large eight tattooed on his cheek, much the way Fives’ tattoo was obvious. Loops was CT-8888, and his face only dropped its suspicious scowl at Fives when Nines introduced himself.

“Nines? Really?”

“Hey, I said we could get our hands on him,” Fives said around a mouthful of rations. He and Nines had gotten their food and found a table before Loops had shown up.

“Yeah, and the commander said he’d be dead by the end of the mission,” Loops shot back across the table.

Nines raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not dead…”

“Which is wonderful,” Loops assured him.

“And… which commander?”

Loops looked at Fives, who took the opportunity to take a long drink. “You didn’t tell him about the commander?”

When he finished, Fives shrugged, wiping his mouth and smiling. “I think it’s better when you find out organically.”

“Maker, you and Sevenset are two of a kind,” Loops said, shaking his head. “Hey, where’s Echo?”

“Medbay.”

“Is he okay?”

Nines watched the shadow of worry fall across Fives’ face, but he seemed to shake it off. “I don’t know yet.”

Loops dipped his chin, looking sympathetic. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

Fives tried to give an assuring smile, but it didn’t quite land. “Yeah, well… it’s not gonna kill him. So.” He poked the remaining cubes of food on his tray with his fork.

His friend nodded, understanding that, sometimes, injuries weren’t so straightforward to fix. Clones had been decommissioned for some pretty mundane reasons, and everyone knew it. “Well, hey,” he said, “you’re both alive, and so is Nines. You can prove the commander wrong if nothing else.”

“Well, you’ve got a point there.”

“Do you wanna do that now, or…?” Loops asked, slowly raising his wrist comm and opening a text channel.

“We’re in hyperspace,” Nines reminded him.

He frowned, putting his arm back on the table and resting his chin on it. “I hate hyperspace.”

Nines could understand. Usually, he was too busy to complain, but now he was a bit at odd ends. But before he could voice his commiseration, Fives’ comm pinged, and a second later, Fives sprang up from the table, food and tray almost forgotten.

“That was Rex, I gotta go,” he said, already hurrying away to deposit his tray before dashing out the door.

Loops had made no move to follow him, and Nines knew there would be no room in the medbay for them regardless. “Hope it’s good news,” Loops said. Nines nodded.

_____

Fives skidded to a stop, narrowly avoiding crashing directly into Rex in front of Echo’s room in the medbay. Rex grabbed his upper arms to help him stop.

“What is it? What happened?” Fives demanded, only just noticing the Wolfpack medic standing by. He looked regulation except for a large geometric tattoo on the left side of his neck.

“Take a breath, Fives,” Rex told him. “This is Bolt, he was just about to tell us.”

Bolt gestured them into the room, allowing Fives to move past him to stand next to his twin. Echo was still unconscious, although Fives didn’t know if that was because of the extent of his injuries or because of something the medics had done. A blanket was drawn up to his chest, his arms laid out at his sides. His right arm was swathed in bandages almost to the shoulder joint, and Fives could see by the outline of his right leg that it was wrapped up similarly. He reached over to put a hand on his brother’s head, feeling some of the tension he’d still been carrying fade as he ran gentle fingers through his brother’s hair.

“So, how is he?” Rex asked.

“Why is he still unconscious?” Fives added.

Bolt folded his arms, tucking his datapad under one arm. “He’s medically sedated. The burns on his leg are extensive and severe, and it’s better for him to be unconscious for the pain. Most of the time we spent today was getting his leg out of his boots and blacks. They’d melted on in some places. There are some third-degree burns around his knees and ankles where his armor didn’t protect him, but for the most part, they’re all second- and first-degree.”

“But his--it’ll all heal, right?” Fives wanted to know. Batchmate aside, Echo was his partner on the field. He needed to know Echo could still be that, or else Jesse might be getting a bit of informal ARC training to make up for it.

The medic nodded. “It should heal. There might be some nerve damage that will take longer than the rest, but it should be a functional result. Whatever surgeries or grafts will be minor, which is good. As soon as we come out of hyperspace, I will contact your medics, Captain, and let them know to have a bacta tank ready for him when you arrive.”

Rex nodded back, and Fives could see a similar shedding of worries from his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“It’ll still be a couple months until he’s ready for action, but he should be able to return to full duties eventually.” He unfolded his arms and moved towards the door. “You can stay as long as you want.”

Fives nodded, his focus back on Echo now the medic was done. He didn’t notice the captain moving until Rex’s hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked over. “Have a seat. I know you’re gonna be here a while.”

An empty supply crate had appeared behind him. He sat, his hand moving to grasp his brother’s. “I thought I was gonna be the one getting hurt doing something stupid like that.”

Rex breathed a short laugh. “Yeah. Well. Good on you for pulling him out like that. Ascension cable--don’t think I would have thought of that one.”

A tiny smile appeared on Fives’ face. “Guess the ARC training was good for something.”

“Mm… I think that was more Domino training than ARC training.” Rex ruffled Fives’ curls. “Maybe get some sleep while you’re keeping him company, okay?”

He didn’t have any arguments for that. Once Rex was gone, however, he stood up so he could lean over Echo to put their foreheads together, resting his left hand on the side of his brother’s face. He remained like that for a short moment, where he could feel his brother’s slow, even breaths across his face, and to finally let it sink in that Echo was okay. That explosion had been terrifying to watch, and the sight of Echo’s body landing limply on the ground on the end of the cable would have debilitated Fives before ARC training. Then again, they wouldn’t be ARCs if they didn’t have the potential to be better than themselves.

Echo was okay. That was the important thing.

“You’re gonna be right as rain in a few,” he murmured before moving to kiss the spot where their heads had touched. “And I’ll be there the whole time, okay?”

He pulled the crate a bit closer to the bed before he sat back down so he could lay his arms down and rest his head on top of them. He took Echo’s hand in his own, tucked their clasped hands against his cheek, and closed his eyes. Sleep wasn’t far behind.

_____

high fives: guess who’s not dead commander

RedBoiiiii: FIVES!!!! YOU’RE OKAY!!!

DEATH: what do you want, a medal?

high fives: already have one, thanks

Leafs: is everyone else alive too, or just you

Double Trouble: YOU LIVE!!! Now do we get all the goss about the mission??

Leafs: do si do you are a hazard to the gar

Double Trouble: why thank you trees <3

high fives: anyway nines is *also* alive

RedBoiiiii: NINES??

Loopy: and so is echo

d0nut man: oh good nox and pixel were worried about their “handprint buddy”

high fives: that’s adorable he’ll be glad to hear it

DEATH: Where is your plus one?

high fives: … medbay

high fives: also sevenset, i sent you nines’ comm code? didn’t you get it?

RedBoiiiii: oh whoops hang on

d0nut man: what happened to echo???

Leafs: is he okay?

high fives: he got caught in an explosion, got some nasty burns. he’s still in bacta for another half-day, but the medics seem pleased with the progress so… yay?

Double Trouble: damn i’m sorry that sounds awful

RedBoiiiii: nu ;-; fives that sucks but i’m glad the medics are keeping an eye on him

Loopy: yeah that’s good to hear

Loopy: sevens did you get nines in here yet i wanna say hi to my number neighbor

Orangio: hello i’m nines

Orangio: please tell me i can change my own name here

Loopy: nines! hiiii, yeah you can change it

high fives: hey nines

Leafs: welcome to the madness

Double Trouble: we’re not *that* bad :)

d0nut man: … arguable, but welcome anyway

Double Trouble: >:(

DressedtotheNines: thanks guys

Submarine: sorry to hear about your batcher, fives. hi nines

RedBoiiiii: IS THAT FOURS???

Loopy: fours!!

Submarine: yeah sorry i’m not here a lot, but i read all of it

RedBoiiiii: no apologies!! only love!!

Double Trouble: yeah there’s no pressure to use the chat, don’t worry about it

DressedtotheNines: so if i happen to get good footage of cmdr cody like spin kicking grievous or smth, you guys want to see that, yeah?

RedBoiiiii: YES

high fives: pleeeaassseee rex hoards his footage the bastard >:(

d0nut man: i would like to see it

Submarine: yeah me too. general mundi is… he doesn’t do that

DEATH: i’ll bet i could get cadet pictures of cody from some of the alphas

DressedtotheNines: commander death sir i would be honored to help blackmail him for you if you ever need it

DEATH: noted

RedBoiiiii: wait

Double Trouble: anyone else see that

RedBoiiiii: DID WE FINALLY FIND A NUMBER SIXES LIKES????

DEATH: no and while you’re at it kriff off

RedBoiiiii: nines you are magical

DressedtotheNines: ………… cool

I love these lads so much :) @darth-void @23-bears @theultimatesandwich @nintendolover13 @peacefulwizardfox @glubtheflyingfish (lmk if you don't want to be tagged anymore 👍 or if you'd like to be tagged in the future!)