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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 1 year

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hostage

Prompt: story idea for a story where (insert au here i have no ideas hfgkjdgh) versions of the side are all fighting some evil force. because evil. idk man im bullshitting my way through school AND this ask lmao. basically someone gets hurt/captured and someone else trades themself to get them back and then everyone else has to go safe them :0 /nf ofc just an idea :D - anon

you did say any fandom and I really missed this one :)

Read on Ao3

Warnings: canon typical violence, hostage situation, implied/referenced domestic abuse

Pairings: gahan, same ambiguity as the canon

Word Count: 5506

The weight of the blade pressed against his throat makes it difficult to breathe.

The hand in his hair is cruelly soft, carding fingers through in a mocking imitation of a comforting act as a voice laughs in his ear.

“Oh, don’t pout,” Sunah purrs, lifting the knife a little higher, “you’re getting what you wanted. Look at how much attention you’re getting right now, isn’t this nice?”

A soft coo as a whine gasps out of his mouth.

“Aww, look at you, you’re so needy.” She cards her fingers through Gaon’s hair again. “How do they put up with you?”

At least it’s not Elijah, he thinks frantically, at least it’s not Elijah.

“You look so sad,” she says in a childish voice, “are they not treating you well?”

In a sudden movement, the knife momentarily shifts as she straddles Gaon’s lap. Gaon tenses, a new kind of fear flickering across his face. Sunah seizes it, the curve of her posture speaking volumes about how much the power she holds thrills her.

“Do you want to be treated well,” she asks in a voice that makes his skin crawl, “is that why you’re being a good little dog?”

Gaon’s breathing hitches. He bites his gag and doesn’t move.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Sunah says, tapping his nose, “don’t bark at me. Bad dogs get put down.”

“We’re ready.”

Sunah’s expression falls a bit, disappointed at having her game ruined, but she gets up and turns as Gaon sees a camera being wheeled toward them. His eyes widen.

They’re going to…film him?

“Young Master,” Sunah says, smiling—yes, apparently they’re filming this and sending it to Yohan, this is going to end well— “how good of you to join us.”

They must have started recording. The knife is at his throat again. He can feel it as he tries to breathe, tries to stay strong for the camera. Sunah presses the knife deeper, deeper, until Gaon finally moves his head to try and alleviate it and Sunah tsks.

“He’s quite skittish,” she remarks, hand traveling down to trace patterns onto the bare skin of Gaon’s throat, “I can see why you like watching him.”

Don’t let them see you sweat.

His fist tightens.

Sunah’s hand is still moving, down toward the open collar of Gaon’s shirt. The camera can see probably see him fighting not to move, the threat of the knife keeping him still.

“You know what I want, Young Master.” The knife digs a little more into his neck. “I want you to play with me, not these dogs.”

He feels the moment a trickle of blood drips down to his collar.

“Didn’t you kill one of your father’s hunting hounds?”

The camera stops recording—had he ever seen it turn on?—and wheels away as Sunah pulls away the knife and wipes it off. Gaon watches as she chuckles and beckons to a few men standing off in the shadows. She looks at him one more time, the way most people look at a spider before they put it in someone else’s bed, and leaves him as their shadows close over him.

————

Not many things can rattle Kang Yohan, but a phone call from a crying Elijah does the trick.

He can’t make out most of it through the sobs—which isn’t helping at all—but the few things he can catch have him running for the car.

Attempted kidnapping. Kim Gaon. Hostage. Jung Sunah.

K’s voice comes over the phone next. Elijah and Judge Kim were out to run an errand with his cop friend, Yoon Soohyun. Judge Kim had stepped out for a moment to pick up something, leaving the two of them in the car. According to Elijah, a group of thugs had come to try and take her, but Judge Kim and the cop had fought them off.

His grip on the phone tightens when he hears that Judge Kim traded himself to make sure the cop could get Elijah home safely.

“Where are you now?”

“At the mansion. Elijah and the cop are both still here. She’s working to calm Elijah down.”

Yohan snorts. Good luck to her.

“And Judge Kim?”

“Unknown, Chief.”

“Find him,” he barks, already speeding down the road, “find him now.”

————

Soohyun-unnie isn’t as good a cook as Gaon, but she says he taught her how to make simple things and the street toast sandwiches are pretty good.

Could do with less sugar next time.

“I can never get the balance right,” Soohyun-unnie sighs, leaning on her hand as she eats her own sandwich, “Gaon-ah always yells at me. I’m never trying to make his ramen recipe again.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, I didn’t mix the egg in right or something like that and he made me wait outside with his plants.”

“Why does he have so many plants?”

She shrugs. “He likes to take care of them. He’s very good at it. We all enjoy the things we’re good at, I suppose.”

Elijah does enjoy her computers. And winning.

“Do you want another?”

She shakes her head, putting her plate down in the sink and letting Soohyun-unnie give her a hot mug. “We need to find him, unnie.”

“I know.” She looks over to where K is lingering in the background, on the phone to someone. Probably unnie’s boss. “I’m sure he’ll tell us if he finds anything.”

“No! We should be doing something! We were there, we saw them, can’t we go find them?”

“Did you see a car? A plate number?”

“No, but I know their faces, I saw them—they were wearing dark clothes and carried baseball bats and—“

“Describe their faces.”

Elijah scowls. “You were there too, unnie, what are you talking about?”

“But did you see them?” Soohyun-unnie looks at her and raises an eyebrow. “Can you tell me exactly what they looked like? What build were they, did one of them walk with a limp, how tall were they?”

Elijah opens her mouth to tell her exactly what she saw, but she falters. Unnie just watches her, drinking her own tea.

This is stupid. She was there, she should be able to say what she saw. They were outside a convenience store, she could name the address, what car is Soohyun-unnie’s, they could—

Wait.

“The cameras,” she blurts out, “the—the store had cameras. We can look at the footage! We’ll be able to see where they went!”

“I’d have to check the systems—“

“No, I’ll do it, it’ll be faster.”

Unnie just sighs and puts down her cup. “For the record, I did not hear that, and I will not be in the room while you magically come across the footage.”

Elijah pays her no more attention, wheeling as quickly as she can to her room and setting her fingers flying across the keyboard. She hears muffled conversation and loud footsteps—her uncle must be home—and types in the things she needs, eyes trained on the screen.

Then she stops.

An email.

From an unknown address.

Frowning, she runs her scans on it—no malware or viruses detected—and hesitantly opens it. The body of the email is empty, no signature, no greeting, no text of any kind, and only one attachment.

Her cursor moves over and she runs the scan again.

Nothing. It’s just a video.

She clicks it.

And screams.

————

Yohan is in Elijah’s room before the scream ends, bursting through ready to defend his niece from whatever must be attacking her, only to freeze.

Kim Gaon is on her computer screen, tied to a chair, gagged, with Jung Sunah holding a knife to his throat.

“Young master. How good of you to join us.”

Footsteps as the others rush in behind him. He hears the cop gasp Gaon’s name. He watches her hand trail over the skin of Gaon’s throat, down to his chest, claiming and filthy and repulsive.

He knows what that touch feels like and for a moment, he’s seized by an unmistakable urge to cut her hands off. He savors it as Gaon flinches away and she chuckles.

“You know what I want, Young Master, I want you to play with me. Not these dogs.”

Distantly, he hears K mutter to the cop about knowing where this building is, who to call.

“Didn’t you kill one of your father’s hunting hounds?”

The video goes black, the sight of Gaon’s eyes still lingering on the empty screen. He sees his own face in the reflection and takes a deep breath.

“Find him,” Elijah’s voice says, smacking his arm, “find him and bring him home.”

————

K has never enjoyed cleaning up the messes that he and Kang Yohan so often leave behind.

He likes it even less when it involves the rescue of a hostage.

The small broken body they find in a warehouse is no exception. Judge Kim is still tied to a chair, ankles and wrists mangled from thrashing against the restraints. His hair is matted and clumps are sticking up, coated in something dark. He’s breathing shallowly and something…something is making it hard.

K makes quick work of the bindings, carefully manipulating the slack limbs until they’re free. He can see the evidence of his torment just in the way his fingers have lost circulation. On his other side, Yohan’s jaw is tight as he checks for a pulse.

“Is he good to move?”

A sharp nod and K begins to take off his coat. He wraps it around Judge Kim’s bruised and battered form and helps get him into Yohan’s arms. Without a word, they know that the doctor will need to be called as soon as possible.

The drive to the mansion is tense, quiet, none willing to break the silence. Every so often, a stuttering breath will draw their attention and Yohan will carefully shift Judge Kim so he can breathe easily.

They manage to get him into the bathroom, laying him down with a towel to support his head. Despite rescuing him from the explosion, Judge Kim looks breakable there and K decides he never wants to see it again. He glances over to see a similar conclusion forming on Yohan’s face.

“Call the doctor,” he hears himself saying, “I’ll see what I can figure out.”

Yohan nods sharply—the only way he’s been able to, apparently—and sweeps out of the room. K takes a deep breath and slowly pulls away the fabric of the coat.

He remembers something someone had said, an eon ago.

Dead people don’t look like people, they look like things.

Here, now, lying on the tile, Judge Kim almost looks like a thing.

K swallows and gets to work, pulling away the last of the fabric, making sure Judge Kim can still breathe. He winces as his hand brushes something wet and it comes away red. He turns his head carefully to the side and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees it’s just a patch of his hair, dragged through a small puddle of water from under the sink. He takes another breath and turns his attention to the mess of his clothes.

As soon as he begins to tug at her buttons, Judge Kim mumbles.

“It’s okay, Judge Kim,” he says, “the doctor just needs to—ah!”

He’s cut off when he flails suddenly, striking out at him with a strength that catches him off-guard. He muffles a curse and quickly reaches out.

“Relax,” he tries, catching hold of him before he can hurt himself, “Judge Kim, you’re safe, it’s okay, calm down—“

“No—no, no, stop, please—“

“You’re safe, Judge Kim, you’re not there,” he tries again, “stop, you’re going to hurt yourself—“

“Let me go—you—you—you said if I was good you wouldn’t, I didn’t do anything,” Judge Kim sobs, “please, please—“

“It’s me, it’s me, Judge Kim,” he tries desperately, “wake up, it’s okay—“

“Hyung, please!”

K freezes. Judge Kim is looking at him but his eyes are glazed over. He stares through him without seeing him and whatever—whoever he’s seeing isn’t good. This is bad. This is really bad.

“…Judge Kim—“

“I’ll be good,” comes the broken voice, “I won’t fight this time, I promise—I’ll—I can be good, I can be good.”

K can only let go of his wrists, watching in a stupor as he goes limp, trembling on the cold floor.

“Please,” he sobs again, “what—what did I do wrong? I didn’t mean to, I—I didn’t mean to, please—please—“

Heart in his throat, K watches in a horrified numb state as Judge Kim slowly lapses back into sleep, body exhausted. He swallows with difficulty, moving back. His head still rings with the pleas.

He is not too proud to admit that he underestimated Judge Kim. But he never imagines he would be hiding something like this. What else is he hiding?

Footsteps approaching and he swallows again as Yohan walks into the room.

“The doctor will be here shortly,” he hears, “how is he?”

“Hurt,” K says unhelpfully, “really hurt.”

Yohan raises an eyebrow. “Perhaps we should strive for a more detailed report next time,” he says lightly, reaching for Judge Kim’s clothes.

In a flash, K catches his wrist and pulls him back.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, ignoring the look of surprise, “don’t touch him.”

He knows that Yohan can tell something’s happened—he can count on one hand the times he’s grabbed him like that—but he just nods. K lets go, feeling Yohan settle into place beside him. He can feel Yohan ask the question wordlessly, wanting to know what’s rattled K so badly that not only has he not done his job, he’s prevented Yohan from doing it as well.

He tries to find words.

He tries.

He tries to put into words how it felt to have Judge Kim suddenly surge to life underneath his grip, terrified of someone he couldn’t see.

He tries to put into words how it hurt to hold him still, keep him restrained, when it looked and felt like nothing more than adding to whatever torment they’d put him through.

He tries to put into words the way his heart damned near stopped as Judge Kim cried out for someone to stop. Someone he couldn’t see, someone who wasn’t there, someone who had left a mark so deep into Judge Kim’s mind that now, after everything that’s happened tonight, it is there that he found himself.

He tries. He can’t.

Yohan doesn’t say a word beside him. He doesn’t need to. He’s never needed to ask a question twice, K knows, not of him. Once K knows he wants something, he’ll get it one way or another.

Only this time, K doesn’t know how to give it to him.

He could describe what happened, make it cold and impersonal the way they both know how, but that would only turn Judge Kim into a thing.

He could ask Yohan knows any of Judge Kim’s former hyungs, but the word seizes his tongue and refuses to roll off of it, rendering him speechless.

He could say he doesn’t want to tell him.

Even as he thinks it, he has to hold back a scoff.

Something like that would never work.

Some hysterical part of him says that he should let Yohan find out for himself. Let him be the one to see Judge Kim writhe and beg and plead for mercy from a demon so vast it seems to swallow him whole. Let him try and keep him from hurting himself only to feel like he’s the one who did this to him, the ones they can and can’t see. Let him be stunned, struck with equal curiosity and terror that the sweet judge that never fails to make Elijah smile could hide something like this.

Part of him wonders if Yohan would be better at it. Would know what to do, how to hold him so he doesn’t hurt himself as he struggles in the grip. How to speak softly yet firmly enough to pull him out of the demon’s hold. Maybe he would glance over at K as if to say ‘this is what you were so worried about?’ He thinks he could be relieved by it.

Part of him thinks that Yohan would freeze. That he would hear the sobs that choke out of Judge Kim’s throat and be stunned stiff by them, unable to reconcile the gentle smiles with the war-torn pleas. That he would never again be able to look at him without seeing his terrified face, the way his gaze rent him asunder, and wonder if that’s how he saw him too.

K wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

So they sit there and they wait, as they did in the car, for the doctor to arrive.

He knows as soon as the doctor asks them to leave that Yohan is still expecting an answer. In a rare burst of defiance, he turns away from the closing door and marches off. Not to leave—he’s not that brave—but enough to put distance between him and that room.

If Judge Kim wakes up again while the doctor is conducting his examination, K doesn’t want to be anywhere near earshot. He’s not sure he can hear it a second time.

He stalks to the kitchen and blindly opens a cabinet, groping for a glass. He shoves it under the tap, uncaring that water splashes onto his hand as he fills it up. It’s cold. It’s wet. That’s all he needs it to be.

He drains half of it in one gulp, panting, then the other half. It rushes down his throat and with it goes the remnants of the word.

He doesn’t understand. He can stay the name of the woman who murdered his family. He can say the names of the men and women who would happily watch the nation burn just to fatten their own pockets. He’s said the word ‘hyung’ before.

Never before did it cling to the inside of his mouth with such revulsion.

He doesn’t need to turn around to know Yohan’s followed him. The man has a presence, something Judge Kim had remarked on early in their relationship. He’s tangible, almost, as if you become attuned to him and his whereabouts as he moves.

He can feel it now, over his shoulder, leaning against the door to the kitchen, waiting. Probably wondering the same thing K is: what happened in the few moments that he was away, what possibly could have caused such an extreme reaction?

The water doesn’t give him any answers.

He swallows the vestiges of the revulsion and turns, keeping his head bowed.

“I can find them,” he says instead,” they shouldn’t be difficult to track. That area has enough security cameras that the coverage should have caught some of it.”

Yohan hums, pushing off the wall. “It would also help to look at the video they left us too, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Considering you pointed it out, it would only make sense for you to include it.”

“Yes.”

They stand there for a moment, still. Silence seems to cling to the pair of them tonight.

“I doubt it will get done if you just stand there,” comes the tease, “or are you waiting to be dismissed?”

The first question, he’s sure, one of many. And he could leave now, deal with the smug smile of being caught off-guard, and find the bastards he can punish for hurting Judge Kim, but no. No, he can’t leave. Not yet. Something keeps him rooted to the floor, stuck, even as Yohan tilts his head.

“I should wait,” he settles on eventually, “to hear what the doctor says.”

There. A partial truth. He’s gotten good at those.

Just not as good as the man in front of him.

“I can send you an update when I get it,” Yohan says, taking a step closer, “and I’m sure Judge Kim would be grateful if you were already looking for the people that hurt him when he wakes up.”

K swallows, still looking at the ground. Yohan keeps coming closer.

“You seem quite concerned,” he says, “over Judge Kim. Are you worried about his security? Do you think someone is going to try and come here to finish the job?”

Well, he wasn’t.

“You never displayed nearly this much worry for Judge Kim before.”

Oh. That’s what he thinks this is.

It’s not an irrational conclusion to jump to, considering what this must look like from the outside. And it’s true, K and Judge Kim had gotten off to a rocky start, but they’ve warmed up to each other now.

“Should I worry,” Yohan says, a smirk audible, “that if it comes down to choosing between him and me, I won’t be the person you save?”

If this were a normal conversation, K would snap back. Say that how could he be, when Yohan would always save Judge Kim? Say that after his reaction when the bomb went off in the office, he’s in no position to talk about surprising amounts of concern.

But this isn’t a normal conversation, something Yohan picks up on when K doesn’t react to the teasing at all.

“He’ll be okay,” he says, a little warmth injected into his voice now, “they just wanted to send a message, not kill him.”

K just nods.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Yohan pause, narrowing his eyes and looking at K. He lets him look, not that he could stop him, and hopes against all hope that he won’t ask.

He knows when Yohan takes another step closer that his hopes will wither as soon as the other man opens his mouth.

“Something happened,” Yohan says, not a question but a fact, “when I called the doctor. You looked like you’d seen a ghost when I came back.”

He reaches out to tip K’s chin up.

“You still do.”

And there it is, the tiny bit of concern that makes it through the remains of Yohan’s mask. He lets K go but stays close, waiting for K to explain. He should, it isn’t good to keep something like this inside him, it’s already eating him up.

But even speaking it about it feels like a betrayal.

K feels like crying.

Yohan must see because he reaches up, a hand on K’s shoulder now. His touch feels warm and part of him cringes away from it. Judge Kim is still upstairs, reeling from whatever demons have haunted him for who knows how long, and K is the one being comforted. And yet he can’t bring himself to pull away.

“What happened,” Yohan asks, impossibly soft for the two of them, “what happened?”

K shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“You can tell me,” Yohan assures, “I’ll fix it, whatever it is, we can fix it.”

“I can’t,” K repeats, “I—it’s not mine to tell.”

Yohan’s eyes widen. He can practically see the man trying to put the pieces together in his head, of why K is so shaken by what happened tonight and why he’s refused to tell Yohan. The hand on his shoulder never tenses, never hurts, but there’s something else there now.

“I’m sorry I ran,” he mumbles when the revulsion gives way to shame over his tongue, “I just…I couldn’t hear it again.”

Yohan shakes his head; the apology isn’t needed. K watches his expression flicker. His curiosity isn’t sated, not by a long shot, but he won’t press K for anything else right now.

K loves him a little bit, just for that.

“Did the doctor say how long it would be? Or take?”

Yohan shakes his head. “It shouldn’t be much longer, though.”

He glances up.

“Do you want to check?”

K swallows and squares his shoulders. “Let’s go.”

“You can wait here if you want.”

K shakes his head. If Judge Kim can carry that much hidden behind kind words and sweet smiles, he can bear this while he’s in pain.

Luckily, it is quiet when they return to the hall outside the room. Yohan folds his arms as they wait, K pulling out his phone to distract himself by looking for whatever goons hurt Judge Kim. They can’t touch Jung Sunah, not yet, but they can get rid of her pawns. After a moment, he feels Yohan’s gaze on him.

He glances up. Yohan doesn’t look away but meets him steadily. The glimmer of concern still hasn’t left.

Maybe this, this one look into just how much they don’t know about Judge Kim will be enough to make them consider changing that.

Even if K can never hear him say the word ‘please’ again.

————

It’s not as severe this time, the doctor had said, he’ll need a few days to recover from the bruising, but he shouldn’t need any bed rest.

See, Yohan thinks as he stares down at the prone body, you should be fine. Now wake up so I can scold you.

But Judge Kim, obstinate and disobedient Judge Kim, does not move.

Wake up. Wake up now. You need to wake up. Elijah needs to scold you too. So does your little cop friend. You need to wake up and stop avoiding us.

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

Elijah has been in here too. She’s asleep now—at least she should be, the cop had promised to try and get her to sleep. The cop is still here too, downstairs working with Lawyer Ko on how to pin this on Jung Sunah somehow. He should be down there too, figuring out why she made such a risky move by sending him the video with her in it, what she’s playing at, what she’s hoping for. Or out with K, hunting.

But instead he’s here. On the bed, again, waiting for Kim Gaon to wake up.

You didn’t need to have another injury to stay here. Elijah would be so upset if she found out that’s why you did it. She already told me to bring you home, do you think she would let me let you leave?

When did you get so close to my niece, Kim Gaon? I never told you to do that. And now she bothers me about eating and sleeping properly. She never used to do that. She bothers K about it too.

I didn’t tell you to get close to K either.

K…K had come back just long enough to see Gaon settled into the bed before disappearing again. The haunted look on his face still hasn’t left as far as he knows.

What did you do? What happened in the two minutes I was not in the room? You’ve been keeping secrets from me, Kim Gaon, I don’t like that. When you wake up, you need to tell me everything. You should do that now. Wake up so I can scold you for keeping secrets from me.

The door swings open behind him and he doesn’t have to look to know it’s Elijah. “You should be asleep.”

“I was. I woke up.”

“Go back to sleep.”

She doesn’t listen—not that he expected her to—and wheels over to stare at Gaon. She’s been crying. She reaches out to touch his hand.

“Wake up,” she orders, giving it a little shake, “you need to wake up now.”

Nothing happens for her either. He should send her back to bed, make her sleep, but he doesn’t.

What have you done to us, Kim Gaon?

He doesn’t know how long they sit there, long enough that Lawyer Ko comes up to tell him he’s leaving, that the cop comes up to see him too, that K comes back.

It is very, very late when Kim Gaon finally stirs.

Elijah shrieks his name and he winces, trying to sit up only for the cop to bark out an order to stay still, you big dummy, you’re hurt!

“I know,” he mumbles, “kind of hard not to notice that.”

“You’re an idiot,” Elijah declares, “you’re stupid.”

“Yah, I just woke up! Are both of you teaming up on me?”

“Yes,” they say at the same time and he rolls his eyes.

“You’re okay,” he says softly, reaching out for Elijah, “that’s good.”

“You’re not allowed to get hurt,” she says, even as her hand trembles, covering his, “you have to come home and stay here where it’s safe.”

Yohan can see Gaon’s breathing hitch when she calls the mansion home and the cop quickly puts her hands on Elijah’s shoulders.

“We should let him rest,” she says, “he needs to heal so we can yell at him properly.”

“Make him stay,” Elijah calls as she wheels out, looking over her shoulder, “he needs to stay.”

“Where exactly am I going to go?” Gaon grumbles as the door closes.

When neither of them says anything, he looks up.

“Is something wrong?”

He hears K withdrawing discreetly. He’s going to have to ask what happened eventually, no one gets to keep secrets about Judge Kim from him anymore, but for now he focuses on the stupid man lying in the bed in front of him.

“You cannot afford to be reckless,” he says, watching Gaon’s expression darken, “what were you thinking?”

“They were going to take Elijah.” His jaw sets. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

“Why didn’t you call for help, then?”

“What would you have done? You were miles away, so was K, no one else was around. If I hadn’t done anything—“

“If you had gotten in the car and driven away—“

“Then they could’ve reached in and gotten her!” Gaon glares up at him. “I was keeping her safe, Soohyun-ah did the right thing, she drove off with Elijah so they couldn’t get her—“

“But they got you.”

“So?”

Rage flares and he stands up. “So you cannot afford to be so careless with your own life!”

“What, so I should’ve just let them take Elijah?” He struggles to sit up more and Yohan just pushes him back down. “I should’ve let them take her?”

“You’re missing the point.”

“I don’t think I am. You’re angry at me for getting hurt but I got hurt so Elijah wouldn’t. Isn’t that what you want? You want Elijah to be safe! She is safe!”

“But you were not!”

“So?”

They both stop, breathing hard. Gaon just scowls harder, pushing against his hand. His skin is warm and slightly damp under his palm, heart thudding against his ribs.

“So what,” he repeats, quieter now but no less enraged, “so what? Do you just want to have your Left Associate Judge look all pretty and be set dressing for you? Huh? Is that it? So it won’t look too empty?”

Oh, this stubborn, fierce, beautiful boy…

“My face is fine, Chief Kang,” Gaon borderline snarls, “they’ll put makeup on me and the collar of my robes is high enough to cover the cut. I’ve had worse than this. I’ll be fine for court.”

He’s still panting, still straining against the hand on his chest. But he’s tiring, anger only giving him a short burst of energy as his arms begin to tremble from the weight of him. Yohan slips his other arm under his back to catch him when his left elbow buckles, lowering him back to the bed with his arm still there. The imprint of the mark left from the explosion is still there, just barely.

Like this, he’s closer now, able to feel Gaon’s chest heaving against his side as well as his hand. He’s bruised, painted awful shades of green and yellow and purple. None of which are good colors for him. His eyes drift upward to the crimson scratch on his throat.

His hand moves, tracing upwards, until he can reach for it. Gaon tenses and he looks at his face, seeing apprehension as he carefully touches the mark.

“They hurt you,” he says, voice lowered too, “she hurt you.”

The roll of Gaon’s throat works against his hand.

“No one gets to hurt you. No one gets to touch you. Do you understand?”

Gaon’s jaw wobbles but he nods.

“Say it. Say you understand. No one touches you. No one hurts you.”

“No one touches me,” his boy repeats, “no one hurts me. I understand.”

“Good.”

You will pay for this, Jung Sunah, he promises as he traces the mark again, you will suffer for it.

————

"You called me 'hyung.'"

Gaon's eyes widen. There's a faint ringing in his ears and he stares at K. Thank god Yohan left for work hours ago. "I..."

K glances at the door, making sure Elijah isn't going to come in. "I didn't tell him."

"Thank you."

"But you should tell him soon."

He bristles. "And why should I?"

"Because would you rather he finds out about it first, or Jung Sunah?"

...right.

When he doesn't say anything for a few more moments, K sighs. "Can he still hurt you?"

Gaon's silence is pointed.

"A name."

"No."

"Then give it to Kang Yohan." K's eyes bore into his. "You know what he'll do."

Gaon can't be sure who he's talking about, and he's not sure it makes that much of a difference.

#the devil judge #tdj #dragonbabbles #fic #gahan fic #gahan

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lexicals · 11 months

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You can finally do readmores on mobile which means I am unstoppable. Atsv spoilers below I am sharing my thoughts

1. EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO THE RIGGERS COMPOSITING ARTISTS VFX ARTISTS ETC. THE ANIMATORS DID AN AMAZING JOB OFC BUT THE TECHNICAL WORK ON THIS FILM IS UNBELIEVABLE

2. I knew I was gonna love hobie but I adore hobie. I love how I knew from minute one this guy knew what was up and was out to shake things up. I'm so excited to see more of him in the next one

3. SPEAKING OF. I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU GAVE ME HALF A MOVIE SONY. This is not an actual complaint I understand why this was done this way but man give me some WARNING THAT I'M GONNA LEAVE WITH IT ALL UNRESOLVED

4. I love pavitr I love spiderbyte I love all the new spideys so much. Most importantly I LOVE THAT GWEN GOT SO MUCH TIME DEDICATED TO HER. IT'S WHAT SHE DESERVES

5. I really really enjoy the setup of miles being framed as a force of chaos especially compared to a lot of much more put together spider people and having miguel as a foil because he's all about control!! The first part of the film builds up to the reveal so well that I was ready for it in a good way it felt right for him and right for the narrative. Miles' thing in itsv has always been about carving your own narrative and your own way of doing things so it's cool that atsv expands on and really doubles down on it

6. Atsv said cops are always gonna be cops first and good cops quit! I don't think their handling was perfect but I appreciate that much at least

7. God the movement. The visuals. The everything. I want to print this film out frame by frame and wallpaper my house with it

8. When are we gonna find out who the little lady with the heart glasses is huh. I feel like she's kept appearing but there's no actual explanation as to who she is. I'm watching that!

9. I have to include a negative. I really hated the live action inclusions. They felt really jarring and just like something to appease the mcu fans which is not what I'm looking for in these films. Just kind of unnecessary and didn't really add anything imo

10. All! The callbacks!! To itsv!!! Fuck man idk if it's just me being someone who's seen that film 50+ times but there were so many little things I was going nuts. Like obviously there were some really big ones but the ones that were subtle visual callbacks specifically had me leaving this mortal plane. The one sticking in my brain rn is miles taking the glass with him when he jumps again but also the being tied to the punching bag and the running upside down over the crossing at his school and the pigeons and

11. The spot is suuuuch a good villain for miles. He's not supposed to be there.... he initially doesn't seem all that important. And he's a chaotic villain for miles the chaotic hero, I love that

12. The anti establishment narrative. Chef kiss. Yes. Question the rules!! Who says this has to be the way!! Pavitr's "I can do both" hobie's "know what you're fighting against"!! Yelling screaming

13. I can't believe I got to 13 of these but also yes I can. Bro the fuckin queer allegories ae you kidding. The not being able to tell your parents the "finding others like you who understand" it feels so obvious but I have to say it anyway

I feel like I'm gonna have more to say as my brian keeps chewing and I'm DEFINITELY going to go watch again asap but in summary AAAAAAAAA

#wastepaper basket #atsv spoilers #I'm just !!!!!!

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kim-ruzek · 1 year

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Aww, I loved Mack calling Adam Dad so casually. I also liked that Kim didn't mind because, if I'm honest, I thought she might have a problem with it.

I was really unsure about the Mack, Kim and Adam family for many reasons (a black traumatised child being cared for by two white police at a time when the divide is so clear and the fact that the writers did nothing to address this. I need to stop because I could rant about this for quite a while) but the actors and the young actress have really made it work.

I knooow I love love love that she said it so casually. Especially as that's something that does happen, that sometimes it's a huge thing where the child wants to ask before saying it and sometimes it just becomes something so simple that it just is, and the child just says it. And I honestly thought that when it happened cpd would make it be the former, but I loveeeee that it was the latter so so much.

I think especially because it just shows how loved, safe and secure she feels it that home, and with Adam. And shows that she does have a connection with Adam that isn't tied through her connection to Kim, which is really important.

I also love it because I wondered if they'd do it, or not. Obviously Adam can function as her dad and be seen through her eyes as dad without that name, and I wondered if that'll be the direction they go in, especially as it would be completely realistic for Mack to have negative associations with that title, but the fact that she doesn't shows an element of how well they've both supported her overcoming the traumas she's faced.

I was never worried about Kim having a problem with it personally. I mean maybe last season, but this season has been really strong and with Kim moving them in to the house and essentially trusting Adam to take on an even bigger load of the parenting as she goes to therapy, I was fairly confident that she wouldn't because (and this is just in universe, ignoring all the out of universe reasons I was confident ofc) she's very much let him take upon that role with little interference or misplaced protectiveness/possessiveness over Mack. But I will admit it was very relieving that she didn't, because you never know.

I was also pretty unsure about the family, which tbf was also because of other non race factors. I put a lot of it behind me fairly quickly though, I think especially once it became abundantly clear that they weren't going to tackle any of the complications. Not because they no longer bothered me, but because it'll drive me crazy otherwise and I just forced myself to make peace with it as much as possible.

And a lot of the reason as to why I could was because of the actors involved, both Marina's and Paddy's tenderness in the scenes actually featuring Makayla, and Ramona's acting itself really helped it work. (And of course the inclusion of Uncle Kev and Jordan this season helped even more).

And I mean, I have some white family members myself so I am always a little soft towards multi racial families (just would maybe not put a traumatized black girl with two white cops. They made it work and I do prefer in many ways them having a black/poc kid as a low semi regular on the show than a white kid but it also should've been a drawing board idea only and despite how well it's turned out and that I probably wouldn't trade this in for anything I will still always stand by that).

Thank you for asking!! 💖

#ree's asks #adam ruzek #chicago pd #makayla burgess #Chicago pd spoilers #thank you for asking!!! 💖#lovely anons #sorry i rambled a bit 🤣#ree has thoughts

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badheart · 2 years

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oh gosh, you now have ocs! so cool! Tell me what made you make them? your inspirstion? 🥰

shh don’t tell em *casually sneaked them onto my blog* these aren’t my first OC’s tho, but definitely ones, where I finally properly rp them 🥰 but also thx to my gf, and friend - cause if I didn’t have anyone to interact with, then they would just catch dust ahaha.

For some reason I am very interested in the Yakuza. And at this point I don’t remember fully why or how it happened. But I am also biased towards Japanese culture (but also others) cause my own is um... there ain’t much, or nothing really old that plays still a huge role nowadays.

Anyway, with that is the base set, basically the crime scene in Japan. And I really always wanted to interact with a police themed OC (but personally I have never spotted someone, except an detective in the past, who is sadly not active anymore), cause I like when two different sides clash, considering Kugo ain’t the most good person. And there is a series called Gi.ri/Haj.i on netflix, which was about a japanese detective, who had to find his yakuza brother in london, and it was very nice to see the culture differences, the stories of the side characters, anyway this series gave me lots of inspiring content. Jiro my yakuza, is even snatched out of the series, and now filled with hc’s. Jin my police oc, is heavily based on the protagonist.

And there was also the big desire to write more about mature / adult themes, which I don’t get to explore all with Kugo, and my friends were luckily interested too. With Jiro I can explore the gang-life or finally a more bad guy, also a toxic relationship with his ex-gf. Then there is Jin, who is overworked, a family man, but honestly close to a divorce, not every marriage is meant for forever, but neither him or his wife has fully accepted it yet. Also some police work, with which I can bug all my mutuals who play crime-themed muses. Futaba is another bias, I finally get to rp a tall woman haha, but also another cop, but this time corrupt (aka exploring also the many bad sides of the police), she is also bit of a way of coping with everything going on, as I also explore war, and political topics with her, since she is very interested in that stuff and can hold some extreme opinions.

Anyway I got myself a bunch of flawed muses, which hold many bad but also good sides, it is a nice mix I missed seeing in the rpc, since a lot don’t explore dark themes beyond death. It offers so much to explore, but also an unholy amount of research...

I can give an example (with Kugo), how far my interest goes with more realistic topics. Ofc I don’t expect a Shonen Manga to point out those kind of consequences (for that I have rp), but not many realize that Ichigo basically killed a human being, and while Kugo had manipulated his family and all through his friend’s help, is it still justified to take his life? Why not prison, why not just a good ass-kicking? Ideally Ichigo should have called the police, and let them handle Kugo, but he took himself the right to judge himself - committing a crime as well, which was not even fully self-defense (ofc no easy case with the supernatural parts), but Kugo originally just wanted to leave, but Ichigo insisted on getting his powers back, and revenge (after getting his powers from the Shinigami). And even when Tsukishima died, Ichigo kept going, even though there was no more any reason to fight Kugo, his family & friends were free from Tsuki’s powers.

Ichigo really became a killer / murderer in this moment, even though no one was really harmed of his friends (just total emotional roller coaster, which ofc is not okay either, not trying to deny this here) In our world this would have meant court and everything, and then there is also Ginjo’s family, who in canon is maybe still alive or not, either way... damn. One can question the morals, the possible consequences (or lack of) quite a lot here, and I find that very interesting and love to confront other muses with it. After all, Kugo’s world still plays in our modern one, and ofc there are laws in their country, which Ichigo ignored.

I am biased, since Tite offered only a little bit about the possible turmoil in Ichigo’s mind or what his friends possibly think of him after this event, ... fuck I sure would not take it easy if my friend murdered another human being. But again yeah SHONEN MANGA... no expectations asdfgh.

But it is definitely nice that I can touch on those topics in rp. 👀

#╳ ——「 ooc.」#╳ ——「 query.」#illholy #😭 lettin me talk bout my bbys

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anissapierce · 11 months

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Spiderverse spoilers underneath heed at ur own risk

Somehow despite being spoiled for the twist at the end .... I literally didnt understand that was a different universe until gwen said. I literally read a post abt how Rio's eye color was different Yesterday and i guess it fell to the wayside i just thought tht in the last ten minutes miles was gonna travel to a whole nother universe where he was gonna meet his alt self ...

Also despite spot mentioning tht miles spider was from earth 42 ... I forgot abt it so when miguel was acting like miles was so different i didnt get it bc like ...well ben was there n im just so comic brained tht i didn't consider tht ofc miles is different

Also so trippy to have it confirmed tht all spiders have to exist in their own universes n also follow the same trajectories that peters did ? Like super trippy to me as a comic book reader n also shit i dont think other heros even get touched upon in this movie so a lot of these spiders r totally alone n also soo bizarre to imagine Anya for example following Peters schtick like making w police chief death central to the universe according to miguel n all characters having a connection to a chief? Including Hobie? Literally melting my brain tbh. Kinda funny tht gwens death isnt a canon event

Also i didnt realize all the memes abt canon events were related to this movie i just thought it was sth someone on tktk was going idk..

Ganke wasnt just nerfed bc of the mcu he was nerfed for the narrative bc its important that miles is a lone wolf w nobody to help him making him further alienated which is good narrative wiss but like i kinda dislike it mostly bc well wht i love abt marvel is how its so community focused. Like even if his parents know they cant help in a way that comic ganke or also tiana n now misty can..idk i do like that the world it presents is obviously not saying that miguels pov is the right one and jess drew becoming a turncoat at the end to Help Gwen is nice. But idk it rubs me the wrong way w little in a way i cant quite articulate.

I do love that this movie had two Anyas... Classic Anya and a remixed one. Which ugh god is why this everyone being peter mixes throws me off like Hobie as a peter remix is so .... Like in my mind there's different types of spider variants theres 1. Peter remixes 2. Remixes of characters in peters life (cooper coen, gwen in these movies) 3. Entirely different entities divorced from peter (hobie, anya).

Also im so fascinated by the way cop shit is handled in this movie its kinda insane like its Schroeder's copaganda n depending on how you view it (n wht they choose to do next movie to thread that needle 👉😉) gwens speech abt how being a spider was being a cop refers to being a part of miguels paramilitary operation which she left ....

Like her dad left the force w the implication of the system being rotten n not abt justice but like not abt justice bc in this specific instance its anti vigilante. Like it's not abt policing as an institution its abt this specific situation which like ring ding ding still copaganda bc it presents the gotham idea of 'well of the cop can b pro vigilante n help the vigilante n hes good to go. But him quiting bc thematically significant n mb the writers trying to pull shit abt the narrative being the only good cop is one who quits. Like its fascinating bc the movie is touching on abolitionist ideas 'i tried to good within the system' 'youre a good cop n trying to do the job so someone worse wont and i tried to do the same thing' but like not going all the way

Probably bc shareholders would nvr let an abolitionist movie get as much money as a studio film can go. Which is a shame

Ppl at the end were soooo annoyed tht it was a cliffhanger ngl found tht kinda funny bc thats sth i did rmbr

#smatsv talk tag

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scoobydoo-andnancytoo · 1 year

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Reading Secrets Can Kill but I Share My Every Thought Chapter 14-18

- nancy is at the dance w daryl and i am DYING to know what she told Ned ab this - it's v funny looking up outfits nancy describes. like /this/ is what the v neck dress that ~put a sparkle in daryls eyes~ was prob like - carla bumps into nancy while she's putting lipstick on and messes her up so bess trips her on purpose and her peach colored dress has a big soapy water stain on it now 😱 drama - nancy doesn't see Connie at the dance and thinks to herself "maybe once this case is over Connie will straighten her life out and stop trying so desperately to be someone she's not" and that hurt even MY feelings on her behalf - daryl hints at leaving early and nancy is like "let's stick around a little while longer, if we leave now, everyone will know why" and implied sex?? in my nancy drew book??? i haven't read one in a long time but these seem a tad spicier than i remember? or maybe it's a ND files thing - daryl says this is the best night of his life, oh just u wait buddy 😭 - nancy acts like she's seducing daryl like "ohhh but it could be a whole lot better if we spent some time alone together, couldn't it?" he's gonna be soooo disappointed when she tells him why she rlly got him out there

- nancy has the worst plan for how to confront him ever, she decides oh let's go be alone, in an enclosed car where he could easily lock her in, def in arms reach and she's thinking he might be a killer. she was in a very public place and decided to leave that and go somewhere secluded and hard to escape from. just want to know the thought process here like, you couldn't pull him aside somewhere in the school with your friends waiting nearby? - she kisses him in his car and whispers in his ear "just thought you'd like to know,, i found out why Jake Webb was killed" and he's gotta be thinking this is the worst pillow talk ever - daryl is trying to play it cool and is like "this isn't rlly what i had in mind when i came out here, but if you really want to talk instead of...doing other things 😏" this is so much to deal with - when nancy tells him ab the tape she's like "i call it.....the daryl gray show" she's so dramatic - when she's finished he drags her out of the car and pushes her against it like "if you think I'm a killer, what makes you think I'd stop with Jake Webb?" - nancy DID at least think through to plan for this and the besties turned on their headlights but i still think he could've done some real damage before they realized if he didn't drag her out of the car - Ned is there and came as George's "date" so nancy def explained things but i wonder if she told him it's just for the case 😬 either way her long time bf watched her dance with and kiss this guy and i know it had to be soooo awkward even if they do drift and date other people sometimes - Ned quite literally lept onto daryl and is being quite rough w him - nancy apparently told Ned everything ab the case EXCEPT for nancy and daryls feelings for each other which she was saving for later and she "hoped he hadn't suspect anything" as if he hadn't been watching them canoodle and kiss all night - daryl reacts more to ned referring to nancy as his girlfriend than being called a murderer lmao - mitch dillon is defense plant guy who killed jake and told daryl so that was true to the book - daryl was threatened by mitch to find the tape and it was him in the video lab that day - nancy is all "how can you celebrate when daryls life is probably ruined" as if this mfer didn't commit treason - they're making daryl help catch mitch which like can't u just tell the cops atp. like honestly - the cops will be there but like why are they letting a bunch of teenagers be the ones to catch the killer then. - ofc mitch says he can't do the set meeting time and is gonna be there in 10 mins so no cops after all - bess's new bf is there and im trying to process the conversations that took place to rope him into this - the murderer stops to feed the ducks before meeting and maybe trying to murder daryl which is so funny to me - something went wrong like a flash from the bushes or smth and mitch is on the move and nancy is going after him 😱 - it was BRENDA!!! she took a flash photo of mitch and daryl and mitch grabbed her, nancy trips over a root and mitch sees her, and he has a gun to Brenda's head - it's prob still being taped by ned or george and nancy thinks one of the others has snuck away from the park and called the cops - nancy got him to admit to killing Jake too - this place is WAY too public for mitch to be holding a gun to someone in broad daylight - daryl hits mitch w Brenda's camera, the gun went off, nancy tackled him, he punched her in the jaw, mitch goes running, then ned and bess's bf tackle his ass - daryl was SHOT in the shoulder but hooray cops come and nancy saved the day - the Russian diplomat left in a hurry once mitch had been captured - nancy feels strongly that "daryl deserves a break" mind you he was committing espionage and treason - hal is retaking the SATS, seemingly no other punishment, walt is benching himself for a while, and connie is getting help for her shoplifting problem (no mention of returning the bracelet) and the cops aren't doing anything ab them - daryl is gonna recover ok - nancy is finally, finally telling ned ab her and daryl - ned kinda suspected but was very chill about it and nancy is all "i love you" - ned asks if it's over. he's about to be in prison and threatened nancy for a min, i doubt nancy is gonna want a prison penpal romance, dude - the end - the game is much better solely because daryl and nancy have little to no actual romance or at least nothing she reciprocates - never recovering from nancy calling daryl sexy or the engine revving

#nancy drew #secrets can kill #sck

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equalseleventhirds · 4 years

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thinks abt making a post abt how daisy and basira are likable and sympathetic characters but are also characters who do terrible inexcusable things and are a deliberate exploration of how there’s no such thing as a ‘good cop’, and how actually there’s some valuable themes you could explore abt how you might meet a cop especially an off-duty one who’s nice and funny and seems like they’re ‘on your side’ but is actually still a cop and a terrible person, but fandom seemingly can’t handle nuance and instead makes excuses for them as ‘not really cops like that’ or w/e

............nah that’s too much of a post.

#dfsjfdskl ok this sort of is that post #but it could have been. much longer.#listen to me. listen. i love frank voss and have difficulty separating that from basira #and also daisy and basira are fun characters! they are!#but daisy did HORRIBLE things and altho she acknowledge them and tried to change #ultimately her change was not fully thought out or sustainable and her big sacrifice is not REDEMPTION #(in fact this ep jonny is p clearly saying that her big sacrifice made her WORSE)#(like she was on her way to being a 'cop that quit' which is ofc what all cops should do but also she didn't do it right #she didn't do it completely and she went back to it when the going got tough and there's a metaphor somewhere for that)#and basira not only still has not questioned the things daisy did before; she was also unsure abt daisy when she was TRYING to be better #which like! bad! very bad!! she's not a GOOD person #like yes i like them they're likable they're written that way #and i was rly hoping for daisy especially to rly work on that 'being better' thing #(it's ok to want & encourage cops to quit and try to make reparations. like it doesn't happen much. but it's ok to WANT it to happen.)#but that doesn't mean i'm gonna make excuses for the objectively awful things they have done #we don't get to just ignore that. any more than daisy and basira get to. any more than jon gets to.#(jon was daisy's friend; he pulled her out; he was trying to help her be better; but now she's worse and he Knows and he's admitted it.)#and there IS a little room to explore that in fanworks but it has to be VERY careful & sensitive & well thought-out and warned for #but actually most ppl lose all fuckign sense of nuance so like. maybe we can't have that.#tma spoilers #rly vague and in tags but just in case #fandom wank

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

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Thinking thots about bully/teasing bakugo and kirishima who gang up on you 24/7

Tw: noncon, bullying

Kiri would be the middleman, trying to act as your savior (even tho he acts just as bad as bakugo sometimes) and bakugo would ofc be the instigator at all times

They constantly harass you, sometimes kiri will playfully snatch up your homework which you were so diligently working on and hold it behind his back, just so you can lunge your arms around his middle and try to grasp it behind him. But it’s too late, he’s already dropped the paper and grabbed your wrists so you’re trapped with your arms around him. Bakugo sees the opportunity to cop a feel, snickering when you squeal and thrash against kiri’s bulky body (much to kiris delight ofc)

“Come on bakugo, don’t tease her so much. Look at how nervous you’re making the poor thing!”

“Shut the hell up shitty hair, if she really hated this she’d call for help.”

But something tells you they wouldn’t give you a chance even if you wanted to call out, based on the way they bare their fangs at you and tighten their hold on your body.

If they feel like you’re ignoring them and not giving them the attention they want, you’ll soon feel erasers bounced off your head from the back of the class, and various catcalls. When you whip your head around to glare at them, you’re met with an innocent smile from the redhead and a disgusting leer from the hothead.

“The fuck are you looking at princess? See something you like?”

“Don’t be so harsh on her man. But hey, Y/N, if you’ve already got your attention on us, could you come over here for a sec? We need some help on this assignment.”

You can’t say no after seeing Bakugo’s hand glow a fiery orange under the table, his show of quirk scaring you into scuttling over to their table.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out they’re not really struggling at all on the assignment, bakugo especially. Kiri was the only one who had legitimate questions, but you knew bakugo could always help him without your presence.

They pressure you into coming to their dorms later in the evening to aid their studies, giving half assed excuses for the choice of time with grunts of “we have trainings the afternoon, wouldn’t expect your weak ass to understand,” followed by an arm swat from Kiri.

You make it into their dorm, wishing they had picked a library instead (that idea was shut down when kirishima sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and gave you puppy eyes, whining about how he can’t focus in public settings)

The boys have cleaned up nicely, surprisingly. It takes no time to settle down onto their couch and opening up your projects, going over the problems they concocted. It almost seems too perfect, both are shockingly mute in their usual abuse, even though they sit a little too close for comfort. You brush it off in favor of focusing on explaining various formulas that even bakugo himself doesn’t quite understand.

But your ease is short lived when you feel two pairs of hands wandering up to your thighs.

You try to subtly push kiri’s big hands away from the juncture of your legs, but he merely activates his quirk and grips your skin tighter.

Abruptly trying to stand up fails too, as bakugo yanks your arm towards himself, causing you to stumble and fall back against his heavy chest. His own meaty fingers trail down the valley of your shirt, pulling down your V-neck shirt. You cry out for them to stop, that you want to go home, but you’re silenced when a hand claps over your mouth so hard that you’re sure you’ll have bruises the next day.

Your hands flail around, trying to hit whatever they come in contact with but are promptly seized as well.

You can feel kiri grab your chin with his hardened hands, and he yanks your head to look at him

He doesn’t have puppy dog eyes anymore. Bakugo chuckles as he hears your muffled whimpers, the rumbling of his chest vibrating against your back.

“We’ve tried being nice and patient with you babe, okay? You were the one who came here at your own will, so don’t try and fight us now. Be a good girl for me and bakugo, and I promise we’ll make you feel good.”

Nice? Coming at your own will? They truly were crazy, you thought as you felt the jagged edges of the hardened hand make small cuts and scraped against your jaw.

To prove his point, bakugo activated his quirk to heat up at the same time kirishima went halfway hard on his hand. You wail against your makeshift gag, but refuse to fight back any further, opting for their mercy instead.

They get the idea, and they deactivate their quirks in favor of striking various parts of your body, hands creeping in and out of your clothes, dipping into tight crevices across your figure.

“Well look at that. What’s wrong slut, don’t wanna fight your big, bad bullies anymore? That’s cute. I’m honestly not surprised a weak little fuck like you gave up so easily, I’m almost disappointed in how predictable you are.”

He removes his hand and starts to rub the undersides of your tits, relishing at how soft they are.

“Please, please don’t-I have to...to meet up with Mina and Jirou later! They’re gonna wonder where I am!” You make up some bullshit excuse as a last resort to salvation, but your heart drops as their ministrations merely gain aggression.

“Yeah? At this time of the night? Wow, I knew you were weak but after helping us with all that schoolwork I wouldn’t have suspected you’re brain dead also. Better luck next time with a more believable excuse, little bitch.” You yelp as the blond ducks his head down and sinks his teeth into your neck.

“We’ll just have to show you that you belong here, with and under us. Your friends can wait until later...unless you think they’re more important than us?” Kiri glares at you from between your legs.

You meekly shake your head, and he lets out a happy hum as he rips off your pants.

At least you had the right mind to not mention hanging out with other boys, too.

#bully bakugou #bully kirishima #bakugo smut #kirishima smut #yandere bakugo katsuki #tw: noncon #bnha x fem!reader #bakugo x you #yandere kirishima x reader #yandere kirishima #bnha yandere #mha smut #bakugo katsuki x reader

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twdsunshine · 2 years

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Broken: Pt. 12

Summary: Mechanic!Daryl AU. Tabitha Dean has returned to her hometown for the first time in years, fleeing a life that isn’t quite what she thought it would be. When her car breaks down, the mechanic who comes to her rescue is none other than Daryl Dixon, the shy, strange boy that she remembers from her school days. But a lot has changed since then, and, when Tabby’s life catches up with her, she finds herself in need of someone to fix her broken parts. Is Daryl up to the job?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings: Language, mentions of domestic violence

Word Count: 7,068

Check out my bio for a link to my Masterlist!

Author’s Note: This is it. The end. I’m not sure I’m ready. I have loved writing this series so so much, which you can probably tell by the way each chapter got a little longer! This one’s a beast! Thank you to all of those that have stuck with reading Tabby and Daryl’s story, and I really hope you like how it all wraps up. For the last time, here we go...

*****

“I’m not gonna lie, Daryl. It’s not looking good for you.” The sheriff took a sip of his coffee, sitting back in his chair as he ran an appraising eye over the man that was slumped, cuffed, on the other side of the table. “We’ve got a witness that saw you loitering at the motel, we’ve got a body missing a fair chunk of brains, and we’ve got your prints all over the murder weapon. Not to put too fine a point on it but you are currently swimming in a vast ocean of shit, and, if you don’t start talking, you might just drown in it.” When Daryl stayed silent, narrowed eyes glaring at the tabletop, he leaned forward, rapping his knuckles against the surface to get his attention. “C’mon now. It’d be easy for me to assume that this was all just some kinda off-the-chart stupidity, some grade-A, butt-steak idiocy, but that’s not what I’m about. So, why don’t you tell me what in the holy hell happened back there and let me help you?”

Daryl fidgeted in his seat, blinking dazedly as if he wasn’t quite sure where he was, and it wasn’t a million miles from the truth. He felt as if he was outside of himself somehow. He’d seen the cops come storming into the motel room with their weapons raised, heard the metal cuffs being snapped into place around his wrists, felt the thrum of the police car’s engine as he was transported back to the station, but, emotionally, he was numb, mentally drained, unable to react. It seemed as if he’d destroyed a part of himself when he’d pulled the trigger, a part that was absolutely vital to his ability to function, and now it was gone, and the man opposite him was watching him expectantly, and he didn’t have a clue what to say. He supposed, when he really concentrated and managed to form a coherent thought, that it would have made sense for him to have come up with some sort of story, a lie that would get him out of this mess, but he just didn’t have it in him right then, so he sucked in a deep breath, forced himself to focus on the sheriff, with his thick red hair and wrinkled brow, and told the truth.

“S’fer Tabby.”

“Tabby? I’ve got the ID found in the wallet of the victim, and it says he is a Mr Shane Walsh from Atlanta. I assume you knew him.”

“He’s Tabby’s fiancé. Ex-fiancé.”

“So, what? This some kinda love triangle turned bloody? You been pouring the Bisquick into another man’s skillet?”

“Nah.” Daryl swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and tried to force his brain to function so that he could properly explain. “He… She left him, but he found her. Tracked her down. An’ he… He hurt her, beat her bloody.”

“I see. Well, I am sorry to hear that, I really am. There are some real assholes in the world and it just makes my ass itch, it truly does. But that’s why we’re here, Daryl, to deal with those assholes. I can’t condone this kinda… vigilante justice, not on my watch.”

“Ya don’t get it,” Daryl growled before clearing his throat, attempting to rein in his frustration. “Tab… Her old man used to be the sheriff here when we were kids. I knew she wouldn’t wanna come here. She’s still hurtin’ over it, blames the job for takin’ him. Wouldn’a been able to get her through that door, let alone talkin’ to one of ya, not in that uniform. An’ I… I couldn’t let him touch her again. I swore I’d keep her safe.” It wasn’t something they’d ever talked about, the fact that she wouldn’t want to step foot in her father’s old workplace, that just the thought of it made her feel sick, but Daryl knew anyway. He knew her better than he knew himself these days, he thought. “‘Sides, all ya’d do is lock his ass up, then she spends the rest of her life waitin’ for him to get out an’ come after her again.”

“Mother dick.” The sheriff let out a quiet huff of disbelief, and Daryl frowned at the man as he shook his head. “Tabby… You’re talking about Tabitha Dean, aren’t you? Sheriff Dean’s little girl?”

“S’right. Ain’t so little no more, but yeah. She came back to town when her mom died.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. I trained under Sheriff Dean when I was just a pup. I heard his old lady went off the rails; guess I never gave much thought to what happened to his kid.”

“Shane happened,” Daryl stated bluntly. “Made her life a livin’ hell, an’ he weren’t just gonna let her go. I know guys like him. He would’a killed her, sooner or later.”

“So, you grabbed the bull by the nutsack and killed him first. Looks like ya took one hell of a lickin’ for it too.”

Daryl ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he realised that he’d just confessed to murder, and his first thought wasn’t for him but for Tabby, who seemed to need him around for reasons that he still didn’t really understand. It wasn’t that he regretted his actions, nowhere close. He was damn sure now that he loved her fiercely, that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, and, if he’d kill for her, which he evidently would, spending the rest of his life behind bars was really nothing he couldn’t handle. He only hoped that she could go on and find some sort of peace without him because he wanted her to have that, after all she’d been through.

“Do you have a licence for the firearm?” The sheriff’s question cut into his thoughts, and he shook his head, knowing that he might as well just own up to all of his offences now that the big one was in the bag. “Alright, son, I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do.” Draining his coffee, the officer clasped his hands together, watching Daryl’s reactions carefully as he laid out his plan. “Shane was clearly an unhappy man, some might say mentally unwell. His long-term partner had left him, and he couldn’t let go of the relationship. I’m sure there are friends or colleagues back in the city that can vouch for that, going on what you’ve told me. It wouldn’t be out of the question for someone in that state to hit rock bottom, search for a way out, don’t you think?”

“I… I don’t get it.” Daryl was confused, his muddled mind working overtime to try to understand where the sheriff was going with his rambling.

“I’m just saying, somebody gets into that kinda thinking, that dangerous headspace, it’s not totally out of the question that they’d find themselves an exit ramp, y’know? ‘Stop the ride, I wanna get off.’”

“B- but my prints…” Daryl stammered.

“Prints can be wiped. It’s an unregistered weapon.” It took a few moments for the sheriff’s proposal to sink in, and then Daryl was shaking his head, his eyes wide as he finally realised just what this might mean for him.

“Ya’d really do that?”

“For the daughter of the man who damn near made me who I am, I’d do that and a whole lot more.” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket, standing and making his way around the table to stoop and undo Daryl’s cuffs. “Sheriff Dean meant a whole lot to me, and to a lot of the people at this station, and that makes his family our family. Now, I can make this go away, but that means you don’t breathe a word of it to anybody. Do we have an understanding, son?”

“I… Yeah, ya got it. I ain’t gonna say nothin’.”

“Well, alright then, leave it with me. Looks like you’re free to go.” Walking Daryl to the door, the sheriff shot him a conspiratorial wink, reaching out to take his hand and give it a firm shake. “Best keep your head down, Dixon, and send Tabby my best. Tell her Sheriff Ford said hello.”

*****

Rick stirred at the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door, lifting his head from where it rested on the arm of the couch to blink blearily at Daryl as he stepped inside. Casting a glance towards the window he noted that dawn was breaking, the sky streaked with shades of pink and orange, and he let out a tired groan as he pushed himself to his feet, moving to meet his friend. He huffed a sigh at the sight of Daryl’s face - the split over the bridge of his nose, the blackened eye that was puffy and swollen, the bruising over his jawbone - frowning at his stiff movements as he shrugged off his vest.

“You look like hell.”

“Feel like it,” Daryl confirmed, dragging himself over to take a seat, dropping heavily onto the sagging cushions with a grunt. “Where’s Tab? She alright?”

“She’s fine,” Rick told him, leaning back against the wall and watching as the other man bent forward to unlace his boots. “Finally convinced her to turn in a few hours ago. She was set on waitin’ up for you.” He cleared his throat, dipping his head as he admitted, “She knows you didn’t go see your brother.”

“Whaddya tell her?”

“I didn’t. She asked if that’s really where you’d gone, and I told her no. I didn’t know any more than that.”

Daryl nodded. “S’fair. Should’a known she’d figure it out. She ain’t stupid.”

“No, she’s not,” Rick agreed, and he found himself smiling as he thought of her panicked pacing, the naked worry on her face as she considered Daryl’s whereabouts. It wasn’t that he’d enjoyed her agitation - far from it - but it had been nice to see that she cared so deeply about the man that most people didn’t put any effort into getting to know, unnerved by his dark scowl and the walls he built around himself to shut out the rest of the world. Tabby, it seemed, had broken through those walls with alarming ease, and she obviously liked what she’d seen behind his defences. He only hoped that they might be able to move forward together now, find some way to be happy. He knew they both deserved it. “So, did you find him?”

“Mmhmm.” Daryl was gnawing on his lip, intentionally avoiding meeting Rick’s gaze, and he frowned, needing to know more.

“Well, what happened?”

There was a long pause, and then Daryl shook his head, letting it fall back against the couch with a rough sigh. “S’better ya dunno.”

“Daryl-”

“Trust me, brother.” His body was wrung out, his mind still foggy with exhaustion, but he’d made a promise to the sheriff, who was going out of his way to ensure that Daryl didn’t end up behind bars, and he couldn’t break that, no matter how much he might want to offload.

“Fine then.” Rick moved closer, dropping into a couch in front of Daryl’s knees so he could study him intently. “Just tell me, is it over?”

“Yeah, s'over. She’s safe now.”

*****

Tabby was dreaming. In her dream, Daryl was home, and he was holding her, cradling her against his chest as he pressed soft kisses to the top of her head, and she nestled into his warmth, reaching around him to smooth her hands over his back, the thin t-shirt he wore wrinkling under her fingers. She let her touch drift south, seeking the hem so she could creep beneath it and trace patterns over his bare skin, carefully skimming over the scars that she knew he preferred to keep hidden. They’d never spoken about them, though she’d been unable to hold in her horrified gasp the first time he’d forgotten himself and tugged off his shirt, covered with oil from his bike, to replace it with a new one, revealing to her every bad memory, every mark inflicted by his father’s drunken fury. His cheeks had blazed with heat, and she’d gone to him, pushing herself up on tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek and holding him tight, as tight as she could with her ribs still aching. She had her own scars, but nothing so ragged, so raw, and she felt his suffering so keenly that it mixed with her own. If she’d thought she’d loved him before, now she was completely in awe of him, lost in him, this man that had come through so much and still ended up so innately good. She’d decided then that she wanted nothing more than to spend every day that she had left making him happy, if he'd have her.

As her thoughts wandered, her hands still stroking down the length of his spine, feeling each ridge and the surrounding muscles move and shift as he pulled her closer, she became vaguely aware that she was awake, slipping back to consciousness so smoothly that her dream had melted into reality, and Daryl was there, his hair damp from the shower, his body solid and firm against hers. Her eyes sprang open, locking onto piercing crystal blue.

“Daryl? You’re back?”

“Yeah, m’here,” he told her, his voice low and gravelly with lack of sleep. “M’sorry. Rick said ya were worried.”

“Your face…”

“M’fine.” His large hand cupped her cheek, wiping away the solitary tear that had escaped her, unnoticed, borne of relief and continued worry at the state of him, and she shook her head, trying to fight away the fog that was clouding her brain before she sat up, watching as he did the same. He looked almost as broken as her, she realised, his rugged features marred by cuts and bruises, and she reached out to ghost her fingertips over the darkened skin, pulling back when he grimaced.

“Daryl, what happened? Where have you been?”

“Yer safe now,” was all he said, his eyes drifting closed, but that wasn’t enough, and she grasped at his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.

“Daryl, please…” She sucked in a deep breath, trying to read his reactions. “You went to find him, didn’t you? I know you weren’t with Merle. Rick ratted you out.”

“Mmm, he does that.”

“Daryl…”

“Tab-”

“No, please - you’ve got to tell me, okay? I need to know. Yesterday was… It was hell. Not knowing where you were, when you’d be back, if you were even coming back-”

“Course I was comin’ back,” he interrupted, cutting her off as he fixed her with a sharp look. “Ya really think I’d do that? Think I’d just up an’ leave ya, after everythin’?”

“I thought you might not have had a choice,” she whispered, and she sounded so distressed that he couldn’t fight the urge to wrap an arm around her, pulling her in close, relieved when she curled into him willingly. “He’s dangerous, and I was… I was scared that he’d hurt you.”

“Nah.” He shrugged off her concerns, despite his aching back, stiff neck and sore throat, and the multitude of abrasions that Shane’s onslaught had left him with.

“Really?”

“S’nothin’,” he assured her. “Ya should’a seen the other guy.”

“Please.” She couldn’t stand his joking, needed to hear some sort of truth, and, when he closed his eyes again, she could practically see the cogs whirring in his head. She wished she could burrow her way in there and see exactly what he was thinking, but, when he finally looked up, his expression was one that she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen on him before, and it was almost the next best thing. It was so open, so real, unmasked, and she could see affection and pain and sadness and fear and anger and so many other things, that she didn’t even know how he could contain that many emotions inside of him at one time without exploding from the pressure.

“I took care of it, Tab, like I said I would. Told ya I’d keep ya safe an’ yer safe now. He ain’t never gonna hurt ya again.”

“But… how?”

“D’ya trust me?”

“You know I do.” His lips quirked up in a crooked smile, and he used his hold on her to tilt her face up to his so he could brush a soft kiss against her mouth. It was the first time, she thought, that he’d been the one to instigate anything like that, the first kiss they’d shared since he’d patched up Shane’s handiwork painted over her skin, and, despite the situation, she couldn’t fight the thrill that ran through her.

“Then trust that it’s over. He’s gone. He can’t hurt ya no more.”

“What if he comes back?”

“He won’t.” He spoke the words with such certainty that Tabby knew then, without him having to say any more. She knew what had happened, knew that she was safe because Shane was dead, and that Daryl had played a part in making that happen. And he was right not to tell her explicitly or in detail, because she didn’t want to know any more than that, she found, couldn’t hear more in case she should drive herself mad with what-ifs and all of the things that could have gone wrong, so she just nodded and buried her face in his chest, taking deep, calming breaths to steady herself. They sat like that for a long while, silence settling over them as they each battled their own whirling minds, and Tabby thought he might even have fallen asleep sitting up when she sneaked a peek at him, his face almost boyish in his peacefulness were it not for the permanent furrow in his brow. It deepened as he fidgeted before clearing his throat. “Hey, when yer old man was the sheriff, d’ya remember a kid that worked down at the station with him? Ford?”

She racked her brain for a moment, searching through her memories without lingering too long on any one, because she couldn’t deal with her grief flaring up right now on top of everything else. “Erm, yeah, I think so. Adam or Abel or… No, Abraham, I think it was. He was a deputy there, fresh out of the academy. Why?”

Daryl shrugged. “No reason. Heard he’s the sheriff now, s’all.”

“Is that right?” She narrowed her eyes, watching as his cheeks flushed pink, and he ducked his head, hiding behind his hair to avoid her gaze.

“Mmhmm. Might be nice if ya swung by some time. Might do ya some good. Closure or somethin’.”

“Daryl, I- I don’t know…”

“M’sure there are some people down there that’d like to see ya. Think about it, s’all I’m sayin’.”

“Alright, I will.”

*****

When Tabby woke for the second time, Daryl was still sleeping soundly beside her, and she watched him for a moment: the patchy scruff that coated his cheeks and chin; his mouth relaxed, lips less thin, less tightly drawn in his slumber. The flesh over the angle of his cheekbone was red and swollen, and it softened his appearance, made him look younger somehow, and she found her mind flashing back to the quiet, shy boy that had sat next to her in class all those years ago, mumbling his words at the desk whenever they were required to speak, barely glancing her way if he could help it, so locked up in his own misery. Who would’ve thought back then, she mused, that it would be that same boy that she would turn to in her darkest hours, that would patch up her broken parts, both literally and figuratively, and who would kill for her, to keep her safe, to protect her and ensure that she was never in that kind of danger again. It was too much for her to wrap her head around, and she slipped carefully from the bed, letting him sleep on whilst she stepped out to face the day.

She padded into the kitchen, making a pot of coffee on autopilot and pouring herself a mug, cupping it in her hands as she wandered across the hall and dropped down onto the couch. It was mid-morning, and the sun was beaming in through the windows, painting the warped wooden floorboards in a rich honey gold and making the spartan room feel more cosy. She hadn’t really questioned why Daryl seemed to have so little in the way of belongings; it had just seemed to make sense with who she knew him to be, so she’d accepted it, just as she’d accepted everything else about him. Now, though, she flashed back to what he’d said to her a couple of days before. ‘Feels like a damn home when yer around.’ Was that, she wondered, a hint? An invitation? He’d said she could move in for all he cared, but it had been such a casual, throwaway remark that she’d let it go. Now, she let herself consider it, assessing her feelings, probing them with more confidence than she’d allowed herself in a long time.

She could see it, she realised; could picture a life with Daryl, far more easily than she could picture one without him, but, at the same time, it felt like an easy way out. Moving in there would feel like running, like she was giving up and casting off her past completely rather than facing it head on, and she couldn’t allow herself to do that. Daryl had mentioned closure when they’d been talking in the early hours, and she knew it was something largely lacking in her life. So, perhaps he’d been right. And perhaps giving up the cabin that had been her haven away from the world, that had meant so much to her father and held so many memories of the time before her family had fallen apart, would be just another missed opportunity to gain exactly that.

She sighed as she settled herself more comfortably against the cushions, curling her legs up and taking a sip of her drink. In truth, she knew she could now do whatever she wanted, and, although the freedom was exhilarating, it was also a little scary. For so long, every decision she made had been dictated by Shane’s mood, taking careful steps so as not to antagonise him and risk unleashing the wrath of his temper. And, even when she’d come back to town, she’d known he would turn up again, kept her head down so she wouldn’t be too easy to find, though that hadn’t really worked out. Now, her choices were endless and it was overwhelming in both the best and worst way, so that she wasn't really sure how she was supposed to feel about any of it, if she was honest.

The one thing that she did feel, easily identifiable in the muddle of emotions that vied for prevalence in her head, was relief, and that had a lump forming in her throat, because what did it say about her that another person’s death could make her feel so light, so thankful? Nothing good, she was sure, yet she couldn’t pretend to grieve, to feel any sort of sorrow when she was reminded of the pain that Shane had put her through each time she looked in the mirror. Maybe at some point some sort of sadness or remorse would come, for the good times they’d had before it had all gone wrong, but, in that moment, she was more grateful to Daryl than she could put into words, and her heart swelled in her chest as she thought about what he’d done for her, what he’d been prepared to sacrifice. She wasn’t sure that anybody else in her life had ever cared that much, and that was a relief too, because maybe it wasn’t her if someone like him could think she was worthy of protecting, of risking everything for. Maybe...

As the sun climbed higher in the sky and midday loomed, Daryl shuffled into the living room, running a hand through his rumpled hair and shooting her a bashful smile. “Woke up without ya. Din’t feel right.”

“Welcome to my world,” she teased, and he scoffed, shaking his head as he slumped down beside her. “Waking up without you yesterday was the worst thing. Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?”

“I won’t, I swear.” Something passed between them then, a mutual acknowledgement, she thought, that, wherever they ended up, whatever happened next, they would be starting their days together, in the same place, the same room, the same bed. Or perhaps she was reading too much into it, looking for some sign to cling onto, and Tabby wondered whether now was the time to bring up that conversation, the one they’d been putting off about what they were and where this was going, but Daryl was already moving past it, cocking his head to one side as he regarded her with concern. “So, ya feel up to leavin’ the house today?”

“Erm, yeah. I mean, I think so. No reason not to now, I guess. Why?”

“I called Carol after… When ya needed some time, just let her know. But she’d probably like to see ya, check in or whatever.”

“God, Carol…” Tabby hadn’t even thought, didn’t even really remember that she’d had a job just a week ago, with colleagues and a boss who relied on her. It was as if everything, except for the man who had hurt her and the one who had saved her, had slipped away, leaving her running in pure survival mode, her world shrinking right down to the size of Daryl's house, her life completely contained within its walls. Now, she felt guilty for her lack of consideration, and she covered her face with her hands in an attempt to hide her dismay. “She must be so mad at me. I totally left her in the lurch.”

Daryl’s fingers wrapped around her wrists, tugging them down so she could see the earnestness of his expression. “S’alright. She gets it. She’s been there.” At Tabby’s look of surprise, he smirked. “S’a reason she keeps a rifle under the counter.”

Tabby processed that for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, okay. We should head over there. Are you sure though? You still look kinda tired and… well, like me.” She gestured at her face, and saw pain flash across his eyes.

“M’sure. Rather be busy, y’know?”

“Alright then.” She forced a smile. “I’ll treat you to lunch.”

“Ya sure?”

“It’s the least I can do,” she told him honestly, because it was. In fact, she owed him so much more.

*****

Carol’s was quiet when they walked in, having missed the worst of the lunch rush. Daryl had taken the long way round, heading out of town in the wrong direction so that they could double back along the scenic route, whizzing along winding, narrow back roads, lined with overhanging trees and lush vegetation. He told himself that he was doing it for Tabby, reminding her what the great outdoors looked like after several long days shut inside, doing nothing but worrying and licking her wounds, but, if he was honest, he needed the ride to clear his own head. In some ways, he’d expected to feel worse than he did now that the shock had worn off, thought the weight of taking a life would sit ever heavy in his gut, but, in reality, it wasn’t quite like that. For the most part, he felt perfectly fine, except for the aches and pains of the fight, and he’d almost manage to forget, and then it would creep up on him and hit him like an arrow through the chest, and he’d find himself unable to breathe for several endless seconds, because he’d done it; he’d killed a man, and he could almost feel the blood staining his soul. It came and went every hour or so, and he knew that escaping for a while on the bike wouldn’t hurt. Nor would the sensation of Tabby’s arms locked tight around his waist, tighter than necessary, holding him together.

She was hanging back now, wringing her hands, her windswept hair hanging wild around her face, blue eyes wide with uncertainty. He reached for her, lacing his fingers through hers and tugging her forwards, releasing her to rest his palm against the small of her back. “S’gonna be fine, Tab, I promise.”

At that moment, the door to the kitchen swung open, and Carol bustled out, wiping her hands on her apron before she noticed she had customers waiting. Her face lit up at the sight of them. “Tabby! Daryl! Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” She rounded the counter and held out her arms, pulling first Tabby, then Daryl, into a tight hug. “C’mon, let’s get you sat down. You both look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

She led them along the corridor of tables, pausing to say hi to a regular that had come in whilst she’d been out back, and gestured towards the same booth they’d occupied on Tabby’s first visit. Tabby slid onto the cracked leather seat, surprised when Daryl dropped down beside her instead of taking a seat on the bench opposite, and then he took her hand beneath the table, giving it a gentle squeeze, and she understood. She shot him a grateful smile.

“Carol, I’m so sorry I flaked out on you,” she began as the older lady sat down, but found herself silenced by a stern look.

“None of that. Daryl told me what happened, why you needed some time. As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

“I am. But I still feel bad. I didn’t even call you myself and-”

“Tabby, what you went through…” Carol sighed, her usually bright expression darkening slightly as she leaned across the table, keeping her voice low. “It happens to the best of us. I know what it takes to drag yourself back from that. So, you have nothing to apologise for, okay?” Tabby nodded. “Besides, any friend of Pookie’s is family, and family looks out for each other, right? Now, how are you doing, really? Both of you?”

“A little sore still, but mostly better. It feels good to be out of the house.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed. “Thought she was gonna melt into the couch for a while there.”

“Shut up.” Tabby dug an elbow into his ribs, and he winked at her, lips curving in a smirk.

“And your fiancé, is he…?”

“Gone,” Daryl told her in a decisive tone that didn’t invite any further questions, and Carol’s face settled into a knowing look as she reached over to pat the back of his hand where it rested on the tabletop.

“Well, sounds like it’s for the best.” The door to the diner swung open and she pushed herself to her feet, ready to get back to work. “I’m just glad you’re both okay. And when you’re ready to pick your hours back up, Tabby, you just let me know.”

“Oh, I...” Tabby knew that she needed to go back, that it would do her some good, but she still felt unsettled, unsure of what she was doing. She didn’t feel like she could just jump back into the new life she was building when she was still hiding out at Daryl’s, not even knowing where she wanted to be or what they were to each other. She needed to get things straight in her head before she could focus her energy on anything else, and Carol seemed to get it because she cut her off with a smile.

“No rush. I just want you to know that your job is waiting for you, that’s all. We miss you round here.”

*****

Tabby didn’t notice that Daryl missed the turning that would take them back to his place on the way home, cruising through town and past the auto shop, all the time waiting for her to object. She was too busy clinging to him tightly, revelling in the sturdy strength of him, the leather of his vest smooth against her cheek, the rush of air as exhilarating as it had been the first time she’d ridden with him. She loved her car, the Cougar, with all her heart, and she knew she would never want to drive anything else whilst she could keep the old girl running, but she felt a rush being on the back of Daryl’s bike that was unlike anything else she’d experienced. Perhaps it was the loss of control that gave it that edge, because all she could do was hang on tight as he sped along, but it wasn’t scary; she knew that he would keep her safe. Or perhaps it was just his close proximity and the excuse to drag herself as close to him as she possibly could, without worrying that he might pull away because they really did need to talk at some point soon.

When the motorcycle finally slowed to a stop, the engine shuddering into silence, it took her a moment to realise where they were, but she could feel the tension threading through Daryl’s muscles, his whole body rigid beneath her hands as he prepared for her reaction. The cabin was a sorry sight. It looked lonely somehow, with the Cougar still parked haphazardly across the front of the porch steps, abandoned and coated in a fine layer of dust that the breeze had stirred up from the forest floor. She swallowed hard, swinging herself off of the bike and slipping off her helmet, so she could run her fingers through her hair.

“You brought me home.”

“Thought it was time.” He was studying her face, waiting to see if she’d crumble or yell, but she only nodded, taking a cautious step forward. “He ain’t here, Tab. He ain’t gonna hurt ya. This is yer place, an’ yer dad’s. Ya can’t let him take it.”

She knew he was right, and she rounded the car and climbed the steps one at a time, her heart pounding as she neared the front door. Daryl was close behind her, tugging her keys from his pocket and handing them over so she could slide one into the lock. The door swung soundlessly open, and, together, they stepped into the chaos. The contents of the mantle had been swept to the floor, crushed beneath heavy boots. The chairs on one side of the table were upended and scattered across the wooden boards, and the table itself was at an angle, where it had skidded under the force of her slamming into it. The TV was lying screen-down on the rug, and there were patches of blood here and there, amongst the debris and shattered glass from the frames that had fallen from the wall. She huffed a shaky sigh, feeling Daryl’s hands come to rest on her shoulders, as if he was trying to lend her some of his strength.

“Y’alright?”

“I- I think so.” She closed her eyes, waiting for the panic and fear to take hold, but, to her surprise, those feelings never came, because it wasn’t Shane she saw, looming over her, his fists clenched. Instead, it was Daryl, in the moment when she’d opened the door to him, the relief that flashed over his features, closely followed by shock and concern and sadness, and she remembered the sense of belonging she’d felt as she fell into his arms, as if it was okay for her to fall apart because she was finally home. She’d been wrong, she realised. It wasn’t the cabin that was her safe haven. It was him. It had been all along. “Yeah, I’m actually okay. I feel good.”

“Ya do?”

“Yeah, I do.” She span on her heels, his touch falling away as she faced him, reaching up to cup his cheeks and smooth over his worry lines with the pads of her thumbs. “Daryl, I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“I already told ya, m'here as long as ya need me.”

“No, I don’t mean… It’s not that I’m afraid or that I’m lonely. It’s not that I need you here. I just…” She paused, sucking in a deep breath as she watched his eyes search her face. “The other day, you said that your place felt like a home with me there, do you remember that?”

He shrugged, the tips of his ears burning red. “Mmhmm, course.”

“Well, that’s how I feel about you. Like, whenever I’m with you, I’m home, and I belong somewhere, and that’s… I haven’t felt like that in a really long time.” She heard Rick’s voice in her head, urging her on. ‘When he comes back, you should tell him.’ “What you’ve done for me… And not just with Shane, but before that. You went out of your way to give me rides so I wouldn’t be stuck out here, and you made time to hang out with me when you knew I was feeling alone, and you paid off the work on my car, and you gave me the best birthday I could have, under the circumstances. And you have never once expected anything of me that I couldn’t give or asked me to be anyone but who I am. You’ve never… never judged me for what I’m feeling or acted like it was some sort of personal slight if I was sad, and I- I didn’t know it was supposed to be like that. I didn’t realise this was how it was supposed to feel... before you.”

He was watching her with a frown, unsure where this was going, and, when she paused to draw breath, he murmured her name. Just her name. “Tab.”

“I love you.” The words burst forth from her, unable to be contained anymore, and she watched as a kaleidoscope of emotions passed over his face: surprise, disbelief, amusement, as if he thought she might be joking, and then, finally, a small smile tugged at his lips, and she couldn’t help but push herself up on to the tips of her toes to kiss him, sinking into him as she felt him relax against her. When she pulled back, he was gazing at her, as if she was the sun or an angel or something just as momentous, and then he was ducking his head to hide his flushing cheeks, staring down at her hands where they rested against his chest. “Say something, please. I know I lied to you, and I know I hurt you, but it was… It was only because I didn’t want to lose you, because, I swear, Daryl, you’re the best thing in my life; the only thing, really. And, I promise, I won’t ever, ever hurt you again. I would never want to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

“I ain’t the only thing,” he pointed out, and she felt her heartbeat falter until he glanced up, arching a playful brow at her. “Ya got Carol an’ Maggie. Hell, Rick sat up half the night with ya, so I’d say ya’ve won him over.”

“Daryl!”

He smirked, but it soon disappeared, slipping into something more serious, and he nodded, dipping down to press his forehead to hers, bringing them almost nose to nose. “Ya don’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, Tab. I lost my temper, an’ I ain't never gonna forgive myself for that. If I hadn’t… If I’d just heard ya out, then Shane might not’a… Ya might not’a got hurt. S’my fault, an’ I ain’t never gonna stop tryn’a make it up to ya.”

“No, Daryl, you... You’re the reason I’m still here; the reason I feel safe enough to leave the house. Not one part of it was your fault, and you still… You risked everything to fix it, to make it better. I still can’t believe what you did for me.”

“I’d do anythin’ for ya.”

She kissed him again then, couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d wanted to, but she knew now that it was okay, that they'd untangled themselves from the web of guilt that they’d both been caught up in, their apparently needless apologies setting them free. As if to reassure her further, Daryl wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her so tight against him that her ribs ached and she felt breathless, but she didn’t even try to pull away. She wasn’t sure that she’d ever felt so wanted, so needed, so loved in all her life, and it was dizzying, so that she had to cling to him to stop the room from spinning, and, when they finally broke apart, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, letting the familiar scent of him wash over her and calm her racing pulse.

“Tab…” His voice was a rough rasp, and it seemed to vibrate right through her, making her knees weak. “Me too, y’know?”

“What?” She pulled back to frown at him, confused.

“What ya said… Me too.” He shrugged, avoiding her gaze for a moment and, when he looked back to her, his cheeks had darkened to a deep pink. “Never thought I’d have somethin’ like this, but ya make it easy.”

“So, you’ll stay then?” she asked, her heart just about ready to burst because she couldn't even imagine being at peace now anywhere but where he was. But she also knew that she needed to honour her father and make the cabin a home again, to find the closure that she now knew she needed, and she was sure that Daryl recognised that too.

“I’ll stay,” he agreed, reaching up to tuck her hair back behind her ear, “help ya fix what’s broken.”

“Does that include me? Because I'm pretty sure I'm still kinda broken; just a little.”

“Might as well.” His eyes were sparkling, and she knew her grin must match his own, enjoying the light-heartedness after the weight of their confessions, because, it seemed, he made it easy too. “S’a big job though. Could take years.”

“Could take a lifetime,” she teased, but, deep down, it was what she hoped for, what she knew she wanted more than anything else.

“Well then, guess I better get to work.”

*****

Drop me an ask if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists! Tags will be on the first reblog.

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs get my motor runnin’! 🖤 Thank you for reading this series, and I really hope you enjoyed it x

#the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x ofc #broken

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trackermons · 2 years

Text

its time for ghost game episode 11 thoughts dump! spoilers below ofc. big focus on ruli and angoramon's dynamic this week to nobody's surprise ever

so first off, don't take this week's meme completely seriously dgvhjdfj i actually am not disappointed with this episode at all! of course i'm kinda bummed we're several months in and haven't seen all the evolutions yet, but taking a step back and looking at it from a narrative standpoint, it sort of makes sense these two specifically wouldn't have managed it yet at least. ruli's interpersonal relationship with angoramon clearly isn't quite as developed as it could be yet, and while this episode was focused very strongly on it and they came on in leaps and bounds, i can kinda see that having them magically sort everything and become super great partners in just the span of 20 minutes would be... eh.

especially with the nature of their conflict becoming clear- angoramon has other things going on in his life and strikes me as a somewhat private person who doesn't always feel the need to explain himself, while ruli is very much a social butterfly who is used to sharing things and sees keeping secrets from each other as a sign of distrust. it's about boundaries! they're very different types of people, which in some ways is a good thing for their friendship on a surface level, but it does mean they're going to need to put in work and effort to get to know how each other really ticks and that's becoming increasingly obvious even to the both of them by the end of the episode. last week in my predictions i spoke a bit about how their dynamic is super comfortable around each other, just not close yet- i think that still stood at the start of this episode. ruli got worried about angoramon "acting off" because she's become so used to his presence as it was that she didn't really know him as well as she probably thought she did; meanwhile angoramon didn't even realise that she noticed, nor that he could have done anything "wrong". and he didn't! it's just in both of their natures to act as they did and it ended up causing friction. it was bound to happen eventually and i'm glad it resolved itself as well as it did; the whole episode worked really nicely in my opinion, everything i hoped for and more with regards to their characters.

the more i think about it the less i think an all-out evolution as an expression of bond would've fit well in this episode, in fact it could've even been read as a bit of a cop-out. the conclusion here is one of resolving to do better, not a statement that things are magically better just like that. to compare with last episode and teslajellymon, at risk of sounding like a broken record- kiyoshiro and jellymon have been almost proactive in their development as a duo, butting heads and never quite being complacent in each others' presence, and as a consequence they're actually as close as anything. they know each other and what makes each other tick so well that they were able to achieve evolution, even if they still clash on occasion. and while at a glance it might seem like ruli and angoramon are more "settled" in their dynamic, in truth they haven't actually explored their dynamic much at all. ruli is headstrong, sociable and the clear "leader" of the two, while angoramon has established himself as the follower who goes along with things and just keeps her safe. ruli's clearly gotten used to that, which is why any perceived deviation from that norm put her on edge. at this point the reason why they aren't capable of evolution yet, or why just this episode's events couldn't magically improve everything, is kind of evident- but they're well on their way, and this was the wake-up call i think both of them sorely needed. i'm really hoping they keep up this good exploration of character in the episodes to come, it's got me on the edge of my seat a little if you couldn't tell gfhhfv

now because i feel like i should definitely talk about something else: reppamon! I really like reppamon just in general, and their role as a "villain" this episode really interested me. i really liked how in attempting to explain and resolve their problem, both ruli and angoramon managed to come to a better understanding of their own issues; being able to combine dealing with the monster of the week AND personal problems in essentially the same breath worked really nicely i think. ruli's final spiel about needing to talk a lot and learning to respect each other through that is really what convinces me she's going to try and take her own advice. reppamon's tail being sentient and its own being was also something i never noticed before and having it brought up was pretty cool! and can we talk about that fight scene (between angoramon and reppamon, before kausgammamon showed up) for a moment because the animation quality spiked HARD, i rewatched it like 5 times while trying to write this.. it's been a while since angoramon actually fought one-on-one and got seriously physical with an opponent (possibly even since his introduction?? if i'm remembering right) so seeing him finally get some action again is a breath of fresh air. hell it really does feel like he's just spent the past 8 episodes just standing around when you compare it to this, i couldn't be more glad about it in general

kausgammamon showing up again was neat also! I'm less focused on it than other things this episode for sure (hell, i'm pretty sure the whole thing would've turned out almost exactly the same if hiro and gammamon hadn't been in it at all oop) but the fact they can sort of pick-and-choose which of the three evolutions for gammamon depending on scenario gives me some hope they'll end up using all three a fair amount. i know it's most likely that betel will remain the "standard" path but it's nice to see the other evolutions coming out for situations that aren't exclusively super specific and gimmicky. i'd say i'm disappointed we didn't get much of jellymon and kiyoshiro this episode, but this really was ruli's time to shine and hiro gets main-character-pass so it's pretty understandable! the whole 'no phones' thing was kinda funny talk about bad timing... also i really desperately want to see what jellymon does with her new camera i'm literally begging them to not leave that as a throwaway gag

that'ssss about all i have for this round, but next episode predictions? i really don't have that many right now, but i think it's more likely going to be some kind of filler compared to the past 2 weeks, the teaser seems pretty general to me. would be nice getting the gang all in one place again at least. if we're getting any new evolutions at all i'd put money on wezengammamon first; i think the metaphorical dust will settle a bit before we get symbareangoramon after what we saw this episode. hordes of zassoumon seem pretty intimidating, and if they really do spread and multiply through chain mail it'd be interesting to see how digimon and technology intersect in a little more detail, so i guess i'm hoping for a deeper look into that most of all here!

#WHEW #tl;dr I CARE THEM I CARE THEM SO MUCH THEIR DYNAMIC IS GOING EXACTLY WHERE I WANTED IT TO AND IM SO THRILLED #DONT TAKE THE MEME SERIOUSLY THIS POST IS THE OPPOSITE OF A COMPLAINT #ghost game #digimon ghost game #digimon #angoramon #symbareangoramon #so enamoured with the secondary protags of this series i could not be more thrilled they're being written as well as they are #or at least written well enough that i can read into them this muCH GSDSHGHj #ghost chatter

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dandaelions · 2 years

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"feel my rhythm" album thoughts!

guess who has 2 presentations for work in the next 2 days ripppp but whatev rv is still my no. 1 priority 💗

this got quite long, so under the cut!

feel my rhythm:

okey dokey what is going on HERE

alright first of all, the first 15 or so seconds are just Sublime, lulling you into that gentle flow and causing you to relax - before that beat drops a dirty bomb over the whole thing. why TF is this so clinky clanky???? why???? the bach sampling is so beautiful and if you were to isolate the vocals with it, I think it would actually sound pretty nice but for some reason they overlaid those damn skirr skirr trap beats and bass boosted it into oblivion. I get they were trying to create this classical-hyperpop hybrid but I don't think this came together quite as cleanly as they has hoped. also enough finger snaps in bridges!!!! please sm tell me you have more up your producing sleeve than the 10 free effects that came with the trial software. otherwise I feel like the bridge actually sounds pretty decent? and don't even get me started on that key change in the final stanza oh my god!!!! why!!! key changes always feel like such a cop-out way of adding an extra 30 seconds to a song that already feels too long.

it feels like they were going for psycho v2 (but now on shrooms). which is a shame, I feel if they had maybe pitched the song down a few notches and added in some more subtle beats to actually complement the classical sample, this could've actually been really good. for a song called "feel my rhythm", there doesn't seem to be very much of it at all 😔

also note about the MV: DANGGGGGG it's so beautiful!! part of me wishes it was a bit more darker thematically but all the art references were sooo cleverly incorporated, plus I loveddd all the sets and outfits. ok, so in seulirene's "monster", seulgi corrupts irene and turns her evil. here, I think they are showing seulgi still being evil, except now she can also take the shape of a bird (seen in the epilogue). irene, dressed in black, is still evil from the "monster" MV, and is shown handing a basket of strawberries to a giant...mask-guy?? idk what that is lol 😅 joy is seen holding that mysterious red light in a cage, except it escapes. bird-seulgi gives the light to joy and we see her turn (thanks @littlesunshinedae for making the connection that her wings are actually the evil swooping in for her). yeri gets corrupted through that floating water thing (and leaves her egg to hang out with the birdy-people) and wendy gets corrupted with the rotten strawberry. they're all seen wearing black and sitting in a dark room, with their lighter counterparts in a garden. so now there's two versions of them?? at least that's what I got, anyone else find other things? also are birds supposed to symbolize anything...

rainbow halo: ok, 8-bit stomp n clap that's a vibe...ooohhh okkkkk that's a CRUNCHY bass line, v nice! oh yeah this is sounding slick! oh snap irene ok I see, love how she doubled up on that beat there. woooo love this synthy groove! did they add a freaking saxophone in the chorus omggggg. nice drop-off in the bridge, that's a satisfying build-up to the last stanza. ah ok like the stop-n-start. also pls bring this sax back for other songs, I think that's my fave element of this song! oooh this was so clean from start to finish, this is def going into their "velvet" portfolio!

anyone wishing that this is what they tried mixing into bach for "feel my rhythm"??

beg for me: OK!! OK!! that dirty dirty synth at the beginning 🥴

oh SHIZ that beat drop and then those vocal lines on top? HELLO?? THIS CHORUS???? dance for me work for me beg for me, I'll do it all!!! is that JOY coming in after the first stanza?? 😦 BRING OUT YOUR FREAK GUYYSSSSS IM !!!!!!!! these lyrics PHEW

this is It. nothing else to add.

BAMBOLEO: rv citypop?? is that you?????

retro enthusiasts, rejoice!!!! ofc you can't have a retro song without those boom boom space drums they did their research! oh WHOA that chorus, that modulation is soo interesting!! LOVE LOVE LOVE what they have going on here. oh nice guitar solo! THESE CHROMATIC HARMONIESSSSS OH GEEZZZZ im just blown rn honestly ram these instrumentals ** ** ***** idc anymore.

good, bad, ugly: oh very classy, this is so seg-c. looks like "automatic" had a glo-up! oh they all sound FANTASTIC, love these jazzy vibes, it suits them perfectly! "every day I just love me" DANG RIGHT'S RIGHT LADIES

in my dreams: oh those harmonies!! oh that drop! I was not expecting the bass to come in that strong! the instrumentals definitely convey the highs and lows of unrequited love. ohhhh I'm getting some aespa "lucid dreams" vibes. that symbol crashing during the chorus, like you’re screaming your love to the clouds!! this BRIDGE 👌👌👌 wow what a finish!! so beautiful and bittersweet :')

overall: the title track isn't feeling the rhythm, but the b-sides sure are. WOW I think these are some of the strongest songs they've put out in a while!! I'm so glad they got to showcase their "velvet" side in some of these quieter, more subtle songs. we got some showstoppers!!

#album thoughts #dang i had like four different people ask me if I was gonna post thoughts asldkfjsadkjf I love fame 🤣#well I hope this was what you wanted lollllll

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scuttling · 3 years

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Newbie

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 3,786 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, Self-confidence issues, Canon-typical violence Summary: On Sophie’s first day at the BAU, she gets nervous. On Sophie’s second day at the BAU, they get a case. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 0-6 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to A03 or read below! On Sophie’s first day at the BAU, she’s a little bit nervous—change your outfit three times, run your Keurig with no cup underneath, hair up? hair down? hair up? nervous—so she takes a deep, steadying breath before pushing open the glass double doors that lead to the bullpen.

She took cues about attire from other people she saw the day of her interview, so today she is wearing a simple black and white dress with pumps and gold jewelry, and she feels she fits in, but she gets more than a few curious looks when she enters.

Her instructions are to report to Agent Hotchner’s office first thing, but she is stopped on her way there by a tall, handsome, impeccably dressed man with a frankly gorgeous smile. He’s Black, with a shaved head and a great voice, and suddenly she doesn’t mind the interference.

“Hi, I’m Derek Morgan. You’re Sophia Cortes, right? Hotch mentioned you were starting today.” She smiles warmly.

“Yes, pleasure to meet you. You can call me Sophie,” she says, reaching out a hand for a shake. “Agent Hotchner told me you’re from Chicago, and so am I. Please say you aren’t a White Sox fan.” His smile becomes even brighter, if possible. She might be halfway in love with him already.

“God, no. If you want to watch good baseball, it’s the Cubs all the way.” She laughs lightly, happy to have a little rapport with a new colleague so soon.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m glad there’s a little more color in the office now,” he jokes, and she understands where he’s coming from completely. It’s bad enough to be the only woman in the room, sometimes, but when she’s also the only person of color, she feels… inadequate, somehow. Like she has to work twice as hard to be seen, even though she literally stands out among her peers.

A blonde woman with a fair complexion and pretty, almost doll-like facial features steps up behind him, and he looks over, introduces her.

“Sophie Cortes, this is Jennifer Jareau, our Communications Director.”

“Everyone calls me JJ,” she says with a smile and a handshake.

“Nice to meet you. If you’re the Communications Director, you’ve got the toughest job in the unit, then.” JJ looks surprised, then nods her head.

“Absolutely, but don’t tell them that. They’d never believe you,” she says with a playful shove of Derek’s shoulder. “Don’t let being a profiler go to your head like this guy.”

“Who, me? I’m as down to earth as the next devastatingly handsome guy.”

“Yeah, right,” a voice says from her right, and Sophie turns to see a woman approaching them with pale skin and dark hair, bangs, a kind smile. “We love you and all, but you’re a little cocky.”

“Is it being cocky when I’m that good, though?” he asks with a wink, and Sophie already feels more at ease just hearing them talk with each other. She can get acclimated to anything when the environment is right. “This is my partner, Emily Prentiss. Prentiss, this is Sophie Cortes. The new newbie.” She sets down her bag, heads over to shake hands.

“Nice to meet you, Sophie. Love the dress.” Sophie thanks her for the compliment. “I appreciate you taking the newbie title from me; fair warning, you’ll probably be here for five years before they stop calling you that.”

“Ah, I’ve been called worse, I’ll take it.” She glances around their workspace, looks up to Derek. “Is my partner here? Dr. Reid, right?”

“Oh, he texted, said his train is running late,” JJ explains. “He’s really excited to meet you, though, so don’t mind if he’s a little… overwhelming, when he does get here.”

“You’ll fall in love with the kid, everyone does,” Derek explains, and it makes her heart feel warm. This is definitely a team she wants to be a part of. “But he can be intense.”

“I appreciate the heads up.” Before she can say any more, Agent Hotchner descends the stairs, heads toward them.

“Good morning. I can see the team has taken the liberty of introducing themselves.”

“Hello again, Agent Hotchner.” Sophie shakes his hand, and he smiles softly.

“Hotch, please. You can put your things in that desk and I’ll give you a tour, if you’d like.”

“Sure, sounds great.” The team shares a brief look, but she doesn’t know them well enough to comment, just stows her belongings and follows the unit chief. “The team was very welcoming. They seem really tight knit,” she comments as they leave the bullpen, and he looks at her, nods.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, traveling as we do, it’s inevitable. Was it not that way in Intelligence?”

“You couldn’t get those people to sit down to dinner together, let alone tease one another. They’d probably bite each other’s heads off.” They worked well together, but in private the environment could be pretty toxic. She knows Unit Chief Roberts wouldn’t have put up with it if the team didn’t get such good results.

“I can see how this environment might seem a little strange, then,” he says, opening the door for her. They take the elevator.

“Strange, but good. It reminds me of when I was a cop, and I’ve missed that kind of camaraderie.”

“Well I’m glad you felt welcomed. We really are happy to have you.” They approach a closed door which he raps on lightly; the woman who answers has a bright smile and an even brighter outfit, lime green and navy blue, with matching accessories, including green glasses. She makes Sophie feel very… plain.

“Oh, hi!” the woman says, and her grin gets bigger. “Wow, you’re beautiful.” Sophie laughs, a little taken aback, and Hotch sighs lightly like he’s used to the odd behavior. It’s all very endearing.

“This is Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst. Garcia, this is Sophia Cortes, our new profiler.” She reaches out a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. You can call me Sophie, or Cortes, whichever you prefer. And you’re beautiful, too. I love your style.”

“Thank you; I can tell we’re going to be fast friends. You’ll have me on speed dial,” she says, walking to her desk and jotting something down on a pink Post-It. “If you need something researched, narrowed down, blown up, compared, etc, I’m your girl.” She hands her the note—her direct line—and smiles. “I’m sure you have much more to see, but don’t be a stranger!”

Something tells Sophie she won’t be.

He shows her all around the office—copiers, the breakroom, supply closets, restrooms—and they end up in the briefing room, the last two to walk in.

“You remember Gideon,” Hotch says, and the man nods a greeting. Still as personable as ever, she thinks. “And this is your partner, Dr. Spencer Reid.” She’s not surprised by his age—she read some articles about him once she had his name, knows they call him ‘boy genius’ quite literally—but she is a little thrown by his nervous smile, his dark eyes, his untidy flop of brown hair. Derek wasn’t kidding when he called him kid; he looks like he belongs at an after school chess club meeting, or something.

He’s adorable. Like a puppy. She immediately wants to keep him. She smiles wide.

“Sophia Cortes, but you can call me Sophie, if you like.” He stands, and they shake hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard all about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I hear you’re from Chicago. Did you know Chicago is home to 2,716,450 residents living in over 100 neighborhoods?” She smiles wider.

“Yeah, with 600 parks, 500 playgrounds, 29 beaches, and 26 miles of open lakefront. It’s beautiful. Have you been?”

“We worked a case there, once. I didn’t get to see any parks or beaches.” He makes a frowning kind of face and she laughs softly, takes the seat Hotch offers her.

“Well you’re young, there’s time.”

“Now that we’re all caught up on introductions, we can get started,” Hotch states, and Sophie’s first morning meeting begins.

It’s a little boring, as far as first days go, but she doesn’t mind. She has access to her computer, gets it set up the way she wants, finds out from the team where all the best places are nearby for coffee or drinks or lunch. She meets with the section chief for introductions, goes over some policies with Hotch—who, she was right, is definitely funnier and more thoughtful than he must let on. He probably feels like he has to act a certain way, because he’s the boss, but she likes pulling the human out of him, makes it a personal mission going forward to make him smile.

He’s too handsome not to smile. On Sophie’s second day at the BAU, they get a case.

“I usually like to let new profilers get acclimated to the team before going into the field,” Hotch tells her as they board the plane, “but it didn’t make sense to keep you in Quantico. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Of course. That’s why I’m here, I want to help.” She stows her bag overhead. “I’ll observe, give my input when I have it, follow everyone’s lead.”

“Sounds good. You know you can come to any of us if you have questions.”

“I know. Thank you.”

They do a deeper debrief on the plane—three women have been murdered, all in their mid 30’s, athletic and blonde, last seen dropping their children off at school—and Sophie is tasked with going to the most recent crime scene with Hotch and Prentiss.

“What can you tell about him so far?” Hotch asks her while the detective on the case speaks with Prentiss about some details of the scene. She glances around the room, takes it all in.

“Well, there’s blood everywhere. Serious overkill each time. He either knew the victims, or has a deep-seated hatred for a woman they remind him of; my money is on is the latter.” She looks through the kitchen, at the bloody footprints that lead to the back door. “Tracked blood all through the house, left the back door open. He’s disorganized. He may have seen them at the school and planned to follow them home, but he didn’t do any pre-surveillance on them. Something about these women triggers him and he acts within the hour.”

“Would you call it a crime of passion, then?” She looks over, curious, then realizes he’s testing her.

“No. A crime of passion indicates some level of culpability by the victim. Provocation. These women are just in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong face.” He nods, satisfied with her answer.

“So how do we think he’s finding the victims?”

“He could have a child under his care who goes to that school, or he could live near the school, work there. He could work the night shift somewhere else and pass the school on his way home. I think it’s too early to narrow that down.”

“Any idea what weapon he used?”

“We would have to really examine the cast off to be certain, but my guess would be… a hammer, or some other small, blunt tool. This wasn’t done by a baseball bat or a shovel or something larger. We can also get an estimated height and weight of the unsub if we chart the area void of blood here,” she adds, pointing to a bare spot on the wall with blood droplets above and around it. “I’m guessing we’ll send the photos to Garcia for analysis.”

“That’s right. I agree with your assessment,” he begins, but she senses hesitation.

“But?” He looks over at her, thoughtful.

“We’re missing something.”

“We are, or I am?” she asks for clarification, and he smiles just slightly.

“We are.” She takes that as a good sign, walks another loop around the room for something they would have overlooked, and she brightens when she thinks she’s discovered it.

“Her purse is still here, cash, credit cards. Her jewelry was still on her body when she was found. But does it look to you like something’s missing from the entryway table?” She points to it, and it’s very ordinary: a calendar, a bowl for change, hooks for keys, a couple of photographs—with a notable blank space in the middle. “Maybe a photo?”

“We should ask the husband if he knows what was there. Good work,” he tells her, and he heads off in the direction of the husband; she follows close behind.

Back at the precinct, the team fills each other in on what they’ve learned.

“So our unsub killed each of these women with a ball-peen hammer, striking 8-10 times. Blood spatter analysis puts him at about 5’11”, 6’0” tall, around 275 pounds. The photo taken from the third victim’s house was of the victim and her 7-year-old son Josh; similar photos were taken from the other two homes—photos of mother and son.” Prentiss tacks copies of the three missing photos to the board.

“Sounds like maybe the woman they remind him of is his mother,” Reid states.

“That’s what we’re going with. We’re still not sure how he finds his victims, though,” Prentiss mentions, and Sophie takes a breath, hesitates.

“Do you have something?” Morgan asks and she shrugs, unsure.

“Maybe? One of the theories we threw out there was that he works overnight and drives past the school on his way home from work, when the kids are being dropped off. If he killed them with a ball-peen hammer, maybe we should look for machine shops in the area with overnight shifts? Those are typically used in metalworking, not construction.” She feels like all eyes are on her, and it makes her nervous. “That could be completely irrelevant, it’s just a thought.”

“It’s a good thought; I’ll have Garcia pull us a list, we can split up and pass around the description, see if our guy is a metal worker. Good call, newbie.” Morgan leaves to take the call, and JJ leans over with a smile.

“Don’t second guess yourself. You’re doing great so far. Theories are important, even if they’re wrong.” Sophie returns the expression, nods.

“Thanks. I’ve just gotta get used to the collaborative environment; haven’t been in one of those in a while.”

“You’d never know it. You’re fitting right in.” She takes it as a compliment, is happy to be of some use to the investigation and not just getting in the way.

The rest of the day is pretty quiet; they test out a few other possible theories, deliver the profile to the late shift, plan to hit the school early in the morning to look for potential suspects and to pass around the description to see if anyone meets it who works there, or lives nearby.

She goes to the school with Reid and JJ, speaks to teachers, janitorial staff, but none of them know a man like the one they’re looking for. She meets up with the others, who were speaking to parents, after about an hour of questioning, but they also come up blank.

“We’ve still got your machine shop theory,” Reid says as they drive back to the precinct. “The others should be done with those soon, so there’s still a chance we can find this guy today.” JJ’s phone rings, and she answers on the car bluetooth.

“JJ, there’s been another attack,” Prentiss says. “1419 5th Street—you guys are closer. Can you head over?”

“We’re on the way,” JJ answers, turning right, and Reid looks thoughtful.

“An attack? She’s not dead?”

“No. Not yet, at least. She’s being rushed to the hospital; her husband was home, caught the attacker in the middle of it all.”

“Did he get a good look at the unsub?” JJ asks.

“He’s with a sketch artist now. Hotch wants you to circulate the sketch ASAP; we think we may have a hit at one of the metal shops, if you can send it to me, too.”

“You got it.” She ends the call, looks at Sophie through the rearview mirror. “Drinks are on you tonight, newbie,” she says playfully, and Sophie can’t help but laugh. She had been so intimidated by the thought of joining the BAU, and she’s glad to see she’s useful, can actually help make a difference. It’s a feeling she won’t forget for a while.

Later that night, when they plan to try to catch the unsub before he leaves for work, she deflates, a little.

Hotch, Morgan, Prentiss, and Reid are going to breach the unsub’s house while JJ covers the front door and Sophie covers the back. She had assumed she would get to be part of the team going in, with her tactical background, and immediately thinks the worst, that they’re happy to have her brain, but that her body is a hindrance. Too short, too weak… it’s how she’s been treated her whole life, and she hates to think that she’s being dismissed here so soon for the same reasons. She tries not to let it show, but she dwells on it, a little, lets it get her down even though she knows she shouldn’t.

She snaps out of it when there’s movement on the back porch, a hulking, shadowy figure in the darkness.

“I’ve got him coming out of the back,” she whispers into her comms, and she draws her gun and points it at the unsub. “Stop, FBI!” The guy turns to face her—he fits the sketch to a tee, a real mountain of a man as the blood spatter analysis suggested—takes one good look, and goes running in the other direction.

Alright, so, he’s clearly not impressed. She can work with that.

“He’s running, I’m in pursuit.” She holsters her weapon and her boots pound the grass as she books it his way. The good thing about being so much smaller than him is that she’s much faster, catches up to him fairly easily, and again, she shouts for him to stop, which, of course, he doesn’t.

Her first thought is that she’s got to get this guy on the ground no matter what—this isn’t a shoplifter or something, he’s wanted for murdering three women and attempting to murder a fourth, so a little force is okay if necessary, and judging by his build, it’s going to be necessary.

Her second thought is, if I can’t catch him, I don’t deserve to be here. And that’s the one that makes the decision for her.

She leaps onto his back, grabs fistfuls of his shirt, and shakes him forward, backward, forward again, trying to throw off his balance. When he starts to wobble, she slides down his back, hooking a leg around one of his and driving her knee into the bend of his; he goes down, face first, and she reaches behind her for her cuffs, slaps them on his wrists before he has a chance to turn or stand. “Jason Farber, you’re under arrest for three counts of murder and one count of attempted murder.”

“Attempted murder?” he asks, turning his face so he can speak more easily. He seems pretty calm for a runner, maybe just resigned to his fate, and she leans over so she can see him better. He’s breathing fine, uninjured, and just looks pissed. “You mean that overbearing bitch isn’t dead?”

“Yep, sorry to be the one to tell you, Jason, but she’s alive and kicking.” She continues to read him his rights, and is just pulling him to his feet when Morgan and Hotch skid to a stop behind her; if they look surprised… who is she kidding? They look surprised as fuck.

“Damn, Cortes. This guy’s like three of you,” Morgan marvels as she walks him back toward the cars so he can be tossed into the back of a black and white. “Did you make him an offer he couldn’t refuse?” She scoffs at that, and even the unsub snorts in amusement.

“She tackled me. Wasn’t counting on that.”

“I don’t think anybody was,” she admits, getting him into a cop car and shutting the door. She joins the rest of the team, gets a high-five from JJ.

“Hey, score one for the ladies. We never get to do any tackling.”

“She did better than I would have,” Reid admits without shame, and she laughs.

“It’s all in the legs. I lift chains at the gym.” He gives her a look like he’s got no idea what she’s talking about, which almost makes her laugh again. “You do pull-ups, but with chains around your legs.” She demonstrates, squatting and gesturing to her legs like she’s wrapping something around them.

“Okay, you’re the real deal, newbie,” Morgan says when she stands up fully. “Remind me not to run from you unless I want a face full of dirt.” The group breaks apart after that, but Hotch lingers, gives her a meaningful look when she makes eye contact.

“I bet that felt good.” She leans against the side of the SUV, feels a deep conversation coming on.

“It did. I’m stronger than I look, and sometimes it’s fun to be underestimated, but other times it gets really annoying.”

“I can imagine,” he says, nodding, and he mimics her posture. “I just want to make sure you know you don’t have anything to prove. I hired you for a reason.”

“I know. But I don’t like being a one-trick pony, and I’m definitely not waiting around for one of you guys when an unsub is on the move.”

“And I wouldn't expect you to. As for the ‘one-trick pony’ thing, that’s not how I see you at all. You’re extremely well-rounded, and that’s why I wanted you.” His eyes are kind, but penetrating, and she dips her head, nods.

“And that’s why I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“After what you’ve shown me the last two days, I don’t think that’s possible, but I want you to know you can come to me when something’s bothering you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know. I won’t forget it,” she assures, and he stands fully, cocks an eyebrow in her direction.

“I heard drinks are on you tonight,” he says with a straight face, and she laughs lightly.

“I guess we better get going before they run up the tab, then.”

They walk in companionable silence back to the SUV.

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