#Finally... after ten thousand years

[rising-heroes]

Rookie's about... done

[solivagantingrebel]

Posted the third chapter of Charred Bones!

Finally earning the tags I put in the fic this chapter 🫡. The aftermath of Soap's drunken adventures, some friendly inquiry about complicated feelings and getting a collar involved in their late night calls ;)

[ironheartwriter]

In a world where you can only see color once you find your soulmate, TK is still reeling from having his heart broken when Carlos Reyes suddenly bursts into his life.

Rating: T (Rating may change in the future)

Read Chapter 5 here on AO3!

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || Ch. 4 ||

A massive thank you to @emsprovisions for the new banner 💜

[saffyink]

♫ eternal wind - love version

[pttucker]

I activated the [Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint] right away. And then, bore witness to a message I had never seen before. [Applicable individual is a 'Character' from a worldview you are not familiar with.] …A 'Character' from a worldview I wasn't familiar with? Almost at the same time, bright light suddenly shone out from the naked man's eyes. [Someone is activating a power not registered with the system!] Circular disks were vigorously spinning above his retinas. [An existence of another dimension is spying on your true nature!] [Warning! This power cannot be fully blocked by 'The Fourth Wall'!]

What???

Now we have whole entire different universes showing up? With their own absolute beings???

.

.

Wait.

Could it be...?

I gotta go check something.

.

.

I freaking knew it!

Oh man, first Dokja asks if there are unseen readers out there reading his story and now he literally encounters the main character of another novel from our world.

We are really straining the Fourth Wall here.

...The Fourth Wall that didn't answer about the readers and didn't answer when Dokja asked if they'd run into Jae-Hwan again...

[fecto-forgo]

YES...YES!!! RPG MAKER XP IS ALL MINE NYAHAHAHA

[nancywheeeler]

people were trying to charge 10k for this

[desos-records]

Chapter 16: Not In Blood, But In Bond

First | Prev / Next

Ghost possession doesn't happen often, but fatality rates are high. Even if an agent does survive, there are the aftereffects to worry about.

After surviving a possession, Lucy Carlyle struggles with recovery, delving ever deeper into the memories of Visitors and, in the process, stumbling into the world of blackmarket Sources.

Meanwhile, George Karim races to learn the truth behind ghost possession in order to protect Lucy and save future agents.

And Anthony Lockwood must face his own past with the London underworld if he wants to save his friends and himself.

-

"Do you remember our deal?" George asked, cornering Lockwood in the basement office where he stood in front of his desk with his back to the entrance.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair—it stuck up all around his head so that he resembled a disgruntled porcupine—not even turning around as he stared at the map of London on the wall. Yellow and red pins stuck out from various locations, the site of every case Lockwood & Co had ever taken, yellow for Type Ones, red for Type Twos. The pins had almost doubled in number since Lucy's arrival.

"And which deal is that?" he asked, voice low in his throat.

Lockwood could do strange things with his voice, making himself sound older or smarter or more in control, mirroring vocal tics and patterns to subtly earn the trust of clients. George had noticed how he picked up Lucy's habit of dropping her voice when she wanted to be taken seriously and his own tendency to click his tongue in disapproval. Lockwood's surface changed so very easily.

Now, George thought he could hear the ring of a drawn rapier in his voice, the silence before a strike.

"You promised you would tell me if it were getting bad again."

"I'm fine, George."

"You're not telling us everything. Someone shot you and you're not even the least bit concerned? They could've killed you. And it's like you don't even care!"

Lockwood didn't answer and didn't move. With irritating desperation, George wished he'd yell or throw things or at least try and tick him off—anything, anything, but silence.

"It's more than just the relicmen or Fairfax," he continued, not bothering to hide the edge building in his voice. "And whatever it is, you can't pretend it doesn't concern us."

"It's my company," Lockwood said slowly. "I don't have to—"

"Don't give me that," George snapped. "Your name might be on the door, but we're all of us risking our lives out there. Tell me what's going on or, so help me, I will bench you myself."

Finally, he turned around and leaned against the desk as if needing it for support. Lockwood could construct a mask of himself as easily as breathing and so convincing that George sometimes forgot what lay beneath. He saw it now, in his bottomless black eyes, the grief and the anger and, worst of all, the guilt. It struck George with such force, he felt it in his chest like a salt-bomb.

"I don't know how," Lockwood whispered. A corner of his mouth quirked and he exhaled shortly. "Funny, isn't it? Me being lost for words."

"You could talk the mortar out of a brick wall," George said, tossing a life line into stormy waters. "You can talk to me."

"There are things about me, about my past, that you wouldn't like if you knew."

He scoffed. "You burn toast even with an automatic toaster. I struggle to see how anything could be worse than the fact I can't trust you in the kitchen for two minutes put together."

A sad, hesitant smile collected in Lockwood's face. "Literal or metaphorical?"

"Very literal."

Then he took a careful breath through his nose and let it out again through his mouth. George remembered teaching him how to do that when he needed to regulate himself, something he'd learnt from his mum.

"Alright then," he said, and hopped up onto his desk, swinging his feet like a kid. "What do you know about the relic black market?"

George pulled around his desk chair and flopped into it, wishing they'd started this conversation in the kitchen so he could've at least had some tea. "Relicmen steal Sources and sell them to rich, eccentric buyers too thick to come up with something better to spend their money on."

"Rich and eccentric is right. And thick, certainly, but more importantly…" Lockwood paused and picked up a small paperweight shaped like the Egyptian god, Osiris, tracing the feathers along its crown with his thumb. The metal shone bright over the spot while the rest was dull. "They're desperate for what their money can't buy."

"Which is?"

"A foot in the door to the most exclusive club in England. One with the answers to all your problems." He said this so wearily it reminded him of Barnes.

"You're being cryptic."

"It is cryptic. Relic hunters call it the Hidden Archive. Because that's what they do, collect Sources in exchange for favors. They can make the scandals of the idle rich disappear, save companies from bankruptcy, make agents turn up on the shores of the Thames rather than their homes. George, these people make Fairfax look like a child playing at pretend."

George frowned. "And nobody notices? Not DEPRAC, not the police, not anyone?"

"Believe me, they know. Barnes knows. But they have their people everywhere, planted in every institution you can think of. And they're too careful to leave evidence."

"How do you know all this?"

"Because I used to work for them."

One of the earliest cases that George took as an agent had, without warning, gone from a simple Type One to a full-blown poltergeist. The Visitor had created a vortex in a room far too small for it and he remembered the feeling of air torn from his lungs. He felt a bit like that now.

"I told you and Lucy the truth before," Lockwood continued. "I wasn't a relicman. I was something much worse."

George shook himself a little, then took his glasses off and started to rub at them. "You could do without the dramatizing, you know," he said mildly.

He could practically hear the exhausted smile when Lockwood spoke again. "I started as a canary, using my Talent to test the strength of Sources for them. Then I sold them some of my parents' artefacts and, eventually, they took me on as a runner instead—transporting Sources and artefacts to and from deals. No one looks twice at a kid with a rapier carrying a bag of silver-glass, do they?"

"And all this on top of agent training?"

"Ah. No." Lockwood flashed a quick, apologetic grin. "Not exactly. Nigel Sykes was one of theirs. My point of contact, you might call him. I'm not convinced that was actually his name, he always—"

"Wait." George slipped his glasses back on. "Were you actually trained at all? Are you even certified?"

"All my paperwork is in order, if that's what you're asking."

"Jesus." 

No bloody wonder, he thought. A thousand small mysteries about Anthony Lockwood abruptly slotted into place. 

Then something occurred to George. He sat forward in his chair. "You said you used to work for them. How did you get out? They don't strike me as the type to accept resignations."

"They aren't." Lockwood shrugged and set down the paperweight. "I blackmailed one of their main suppliers," he said, trying and failing to not sound smug about it.

"What?"

"For a while, they seemed content to let me go, but things have changed. The Archive is buying again and everyone in the underworld wants in."

"And then you told all of London we'd handled the Source of a famous Type Two."

Lockwood clicked his tongue. "Not my finest moment. Annabel's ring would be worth a small favor or two. Minor players would kill for that."

"But what does the Archive want with all those Sources?"

"No one knows. But George…" He planted his hands on the desk and leaned forward, a sharp light in his eyes. "They don't just collect Sources, but strong Talents too. People like us, we go missing when they're around. I don't want that—"

George suddenly shot to his feet, having been slammed full force with a memory. "The Jalandhari Kidnappings!" he cried.

"The what?"

He pulled open the cabinet by his desk and tore through his case files until he found the right one. Then he threw it at Lockwood, who just managed to catch it, making a sound like he'd been hit in the gut with a football instead.

"The Jalandhari Agency—this was a few years ago—was a new, up-and-coming agency working primarily in underserved immigrant neighborhoods. A real human interest story, got lots of fancy press. I've some newspaper clippings in there." He gestured at Lockwood to open the file and he obliged, starting to skim through it.

"I think I remember hearing something about that," Lockwood said, meaning that he hadn't, but was willing to humor him anyway.

"Fittes and Rotwell were in a bit of a rough patch at the time. A big scandal broke out about labor abuse and safety violations, agents were resigning left and right. Some of the best ended up at Jalandhari. Until—" George grabbed the case file and flipped it open to the appropriate section then dropped it back into Lockwood's hands.

Inside, a full two-paged magazine spread showed the bodies of six dead agents in various locations and stages of ghost-lock, all wearing orange and white uniforms with a tiger emblem on the back. The headline read Six Jalandhari Agents Found Dead, More Still Missing.

"That's a tad gratuitous," Lockwood muttered.

George went on. "Over a couple of months, the entire agency went missing. A few more turned up dead after this article, but not all of them. The rest are still unaccounted for. Everyone chalked it up to mismanagement. But guess what happened right before the first agent went missing."

Lockwood looked up slowly, one eyebrow raised. "I'm sure you'll tell me."

"Fittes caught the London Bridge Hangman."

That got Lockwood's attention, finally. He sat up straighter, turning to a page in the file with a list of the missing agents. "That's right. One of their seers ID'd the victims even though they were just howling shades hanging below the bridge at night. They managed to track down the killer only to find he'd shot himself and become a nasty Type Two. Penelope Fittes herself supervised the team."

"If Annabel Ward is worth a small favor, what do you think something like that would get you?"

"A dead agency," Lockwood said, and screwed his face up into a horrified frown. "Do you see, then, why they're so dangerous? I'm working on a way to get them off our backs. I just need more time."

George shook his head, curls flying and glasses flashing. "Not if we find the missing Jalandhari Agents and bring them to DEPRAC. If the Archive collects Talents, as you said, they might still be alive somewhere. What if they're still working for them? Or being kept somewhere? Any institution, no matter how secret, has to have a base of operations."

"You want to take down the Hidden Archive?"

"It would be a more permanent solution than blackmail."

Lockwood shook his head faintly, a wild grin forming in his face. "Brilliant, George, as usual. We'll run the idea by Lucy, then decide as an agency."

Just as Lockwood hopped off the desk and handed George the case file, a crash sounded from upstairs, followed by a heavy and final thud. Ice ran through George's blood and, as he turned and opened his mouth to suggest what the sound might've been, Lockwood was already sprinting for the iron stairs.

[liminal-storage]

9

Characters: Kuni Muinvel

Song: Clann-Once Again

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

Spin, whirl, daylight lost.

The rain’s steady drizzle and drip. 

Shrieking gales, warm fanning flames. 

This place is a span of ever-flowing change, unpredictable and wild. Beautiful and horrifying all at once. In the skies on one side floats the image of a span of endless night, framed with burning trees. On the other side, a vast and cloudless sky where swarms of golden-winged creatures ride the wind. Spliced here and there lie scraps of other spaces; deep caverns flecked with glimmering crystal, dark pools swirling with unseen lurkers. A vast and twisted valley overgrown with green. A barren stretch of parched and sweltering stone. 

There is much to see here. The pictures reflected in the sky show places she may never reach, projected glimpses of places she wishes she could simply reach out and touch. 

She dances here. With the whisper of the wind and the rustling of the strange plants that grow here, she finds the notes of her song.

Never has she felt lost along the infinitely numbered paths here. She can walk for an age and never tire. It is home, and yet she always feels her time in the space is fleeting. She has not yet learned how to accurately track the passage of time here, after all, and she’d rather not lose track of how things align with the other side, her other home. 

Yet there is a deep longing that remains within her every time she departs from the reaches of the Threshold, a desire to bring others here so that they too may bear witness to the fathomless dream-like landscapes she can see far in the distance, just beyond her reach.

A story-lover she has been all her life, a teller of tales and a collector of others’ lore. Yet, for all that fixation she finds it near impossible to share her own tales. For how can she possibly spin the words to properly describe such chaotic, frightful beauty? How can she do anything but soak it all in and hope that one day, when she’s grown into her own enough, she finds a way to take someone’s hand to pull them along these surreal and breathtaking pathways?

[t4tbedehopmar]

GOOD MORNING

[quabshy]

I made art for my pookie @baebeeluvx

I am in love with rhem

Soren and Caspian :D

[braveparanoiac]

@bcnes continued from x

Eyes scanned the shuttle, attempting to take in every detail of it. Which parts come out to reveal the weaponry? Has anyone scratched its surface with drawings? What do those look like? His eyes turn to the next section of the exterior and - there's something there. There's something there; there's something there; there's- one blink, and it's gone. Really? No, that can't be right, he's sure he saw an odd curved shape, staring right at him. Maybe if he swipes a hand over the surface? ...Nothing. Once more. Twice more? ...He's not getting anywhere with thi- No, maybe he is. He heard a noise coming from inside the shuttle. Mumbling? ...Right, McCoy. As Ford limps towards the door, poking his head inside, he can hear the sounds of bottles hitting against each other. His gaze quickly snap to McCoy's movements, watching the bottles and then the waved hand. A moment pasts, and his eyes turn towards the interior. A while back he would've loved the sight of this. Call it alien, maybe it crashed, maybe he can salvage the parts, or if lucky enough, it'd still work. Eyes then fall onto the pictures. They look innocent enough. People have their family be their motivator, apparently. He recalls Fiddleford carrying pictures like that about in his workspace. Family pictures, however, have their place - in a photo album, collecting dust in a closet. They're more distracting if anything, bringing various types of negative emotion. You miss it, you're angry at them, you love them, you hope to never see them again, you wish things could just be a bit more different, you - wait, did the eyes on one of those photos glow?! His body quickly grew tense, staring down at the girl in the photo. There's something there. He has to make his move quickly. Just need to lean down and - "Ngh-" no, no it's fine, he can take a knee or whatever instead. Sure. It's not like all these eyes are on him. Yellow, mocking, glowing, laughing maniacally and yet strangely sweetly...

[artunderwraps]

the wors part is theres still time until 2026

why is a story about sentient probes screwing with each other giving me a crisis

spoilers in tags check this story out

[reasonsforhope]

Federal regulators on Tuesday [April 23, 2024] enacted a nationwide ban on new noncompete agreements, which keep millions of Americans — from minimum-wage earners to CEOs — from switching jobs within their industries.

The Federal Trade Commission on Tuesday afternoon voted 3-to-2 to approve the new rule, which will ban noncompetes for all workers when the regulations take effect in 120 days [So, the ban starts in early September, 2024!]. For senior executives, existing noncompetes can remain in force. For all other employees, existing noncompetes are not enforceable.

[That's right: if you're currently under a noncompete agreement, it's completely invalid as of September 2024! You're free!!]

The antitrust and consumer protection agency heard from thousands of people who said they had been harmed by noncompetes, illustrating how the agreements are "robbing people of their economic liberty," FTC Chair Lina Khan said. 

The FTC commissioners voted along party lines, with its two Republicans arguing the agency lacked the jurisdiction to enact the rule and that such moves should be made in Congress...

Why it matters

The new rule could impact tens of millions of workers, said Heidi Shierholz, a labor economist and president of the Economic Policy Institute, a left-leaning think tank. 

"For nonunion workers, the only leverage they have is their ability to quit their job," Shierholz told CBS MoneyWatch. "Noncompetes don't just stop you from taking a job — they stop you from starting your own business."

Since proposing the new rule, the FTC has received more than 26,000 public comments on the regulations. The final rule adopted "would generally prevent most employers from using noncompete clauses," the FTC said in a statement.

The agency's action comes more than two years after President Biden directed the agency to "curtail the unfair use" of noncompetes, under which employees effectively sign away future work opportunities in their industry as a condition of keeping their current job. The president's executive order urged the FTC to target such labor restrictions and others that improperly constrain employees from seeking work.

"The freedom to change jobs is core to economic liberty and to a competitive, thriving economy," Khan said in a statement making the case for axing noncompetes. "Noncompetes block workers from freely switching jobs, depriving them of higher wages and better working conditions, and depriving businesses of a talent pool that they need to build and expand."

Real-life consequences

In laying out its rationale for banishing noncompetes from the labor landscape, the FTC offered real-life examples of how the agreements can hurt workers.

In one case, a single father earned about $11 an hour as a security guard for a Florida firm, but resigned a few weeks after taking the job when his child care fell through. Months later, he took a job as a security guard at a bank, making nearly $15 an hour. But the bank terminated his employment after receiving a letter from the man's prior employer stating he had signed a two-year noncompete.

In another example, a factory manager at a textile company saw his paycheck dry up after the 2008 financial crisis. A rival textile company offered him a better job and a big raise, but his noncompete blocked him from taking it, according to the FTC. A subsequent legal battle took three years, wiping out his savings. 

-via CBS Moneywatch, April 24, 2024

--

Note:

A lot of people think that noncompete agreements are only a white-collar issue, but they absolutely affect blue-collar workers too, as you can see from the security guard anecdote.

In fact, one in six food and service workers are bound by noncompete agreements. That's right - one in six food workers can't leave Burger King to work for Wendy's [hypothetical example], in the name of "trade secrets." (x, x, x)

Noncompete agreements also restrict workers in industries from tech and video games to neighborhood yoga studios. "The White House estimates that tens of millions of workers are subject to noncompete agreements, even in states like California where they're banned." (x, x, x)

The FTC estimates that the ban will lead to "the creation of 8,500 new businesses annually, an average annual pay increase of $524 for workers, lower health care costs, and as many as 29,000 more patents each year for the next decade." (x)

Clearer explanation of noncompete agreements below the cut.

Noncompete agreements can restrict workers from leaving for a better job or starting their own business.

Noncompetes often effectively coerce workers into staying in jobs they want to leave, and even force them to leave a profession or relocate.

Noncompetes can prevent workers from accepting higher-paying jobs, and even curtail the pay of workers not subject to them directly.

Of the more than 26,000 comments received by the FTC, more than 25,000 supported banning noncompetes. 

[astonmartinii]

false start | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem swimmer reader

some people are getting a bit too ahead of themselves

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

.・゜゜・ part of the aston martini summer olympics ・゜゜・．

espn

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lillyking and 509,455 others

tagged: yourusername & lewishamilton

espn: the 2024 paris olympics kick off tomorrow and we'll be keeping a close eye on the pool. and despite being one of the biggest names in the sport and the fiance of seven-time f1 world champion lewis hamilton, we don't predict to see y/n y/ln on the podium this summer.

view all comments

user1: when will y'all learn?

user2: i swear they did this back in 2021, saying she wasn't good enough any more and then BAM she won double gold and they were suspiciously quiet after

user3: i hope she dunks on their heads again

charles_leclerc: STOP UNDERRATING HER I SWEAR TO FUCK

user4: bro hasn't even started as lewis' teammate and he's already ready to throw down for y/n

charles_leclerc: i have been a fan of the queen since before i even started in f1 - no one disrespects her in front of me

user5: espn better be shaking in their boots after that

lewishamilton: 😐

user6: the king has spoken

user7: it's an emoji babe

user8: real lewis fans know that this is worth a thousand words

user9: the picture with the double gold is going to hit like crack i fear

user10: best believe i know that they'll tag espn just to be messy

user11: i'm sat. i'm so sat. the cinema workers have told me she doesn't compete for a couple days but i'm simply so sat

yourusername: ⏳

user12: OKAY SLAY

user13: i need these golds like i need air

user14: okay queen i need you to run back the celebration from last olympics

user15: time to become an honourary aussie for a couple weeks to support y/n

user16: LET'S FUCKING GO KANGAROOS

user17: run me my passport australia

user18: when will lewis get his australian citizenship

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 1,459,833 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: go get em'

view all comments

user22: gIVE ME ONE CHANCE PLEASE GOD PLEASE

user23: sorry to everyone else at the games, but the hottest couple has arrived

user24: tiktok girls PSA: if i don't have ten alchemy edits of them on my desk by tomorrow morning THERE WILL BE ISSUES

yourusername: for you sir, anything

yourusername: ugh your ✨ title ✨ is so hot

lewishamilton: let's win and then put it to good use 😉

landnorris: do you people mind?

yourusername: why are you always in our business? don't you have your own little guppy to follow around in paris?

lewishamilton: he's just lonely? or not? i can't keep up with his relationship drama

landonorris: EXCUSE ME?

yourusername: you're excused? we've been together for like eight years we aren't used to whatever drama you've gotten yourself into

lewishamilton: eight years, six months and 237 days :P

user25: first espn and now lando? they're not holding back this summer

user26: fucking around and finding out is what summer 2024 is all about

georgerussell63: good luck y/n !!!

yourusername: thank you georgie :)

georgerussell63: and i checked, i don't think there's any gb swimmers in your events (other than the relays) so you'll have my full support

yourusername: thanks?

lewishamilton: he's a little confused but he's got the spirit

user27: i need y/n to win and come to the paddock with her medal for zandvoort

user28: i am seeing it and i need it to happen

olympics

liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 893,209 others

tagged: yourusername

olympics: never in doubt, y/n y/ln takes gold in the 100m backstroke final!

view all comments

user29: RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

user30: suck on that espn

user31: espn admin come outside rn please i jUST WANNA TALK

lewishamilton: @espn KEEP MY (soon to be) WIFE'S NAME OUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH

yourusername: that was so hot

lewishamilton: you wiping the floor with the whole pool was so hot

lewishamilton: but then again you're hot doing literally anything

yourusername: says you mr model

lewishamilton: i got a few things i wanna model for you ...

yourusername: is it my gold medal and nothing else ?

lewishamilton: how did you know ???

user32: so winning a gold medal really does make you horny on main

user33: some of us lived through them with no PR managers, this is tame

user34: they're one couple where it really wouldn't surprise me if something got leaked

yourusername: can confirm it tastes as sweet as it did in tokyo

oscarpiastri: could you hear me cheering? i was so loud :)

yourusername: funnily enough, no

oscarpiastri: oh :(

yourusername: but i felt it in my spirit!

oscarpiastri: good :) because i think i have slightly deafened your husband 🤷‍♂️

lewishamilton: my ears are still ringing but i'll take it because you were supporting y/n

yourusername: awwww you cuties

user35: yall saying that kimi antonelli is lewis' grid kid but it's clearly oscar

user36: if i watched lewis put yellow and green glitter on oscar's face on live tv it's not a conversation to start with

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, jensonbutton and 1,459,783 others

tagged: olympics & lewishamilton

yourusername: gold in both 100m and 200m backstroke is more than i could've ever dreamed coming into these games, thank you to my family, friends and wonderful fiance for their support. and to the others, you know who you are, be careful on all those false starts you keep making ;)

view all comments

user38: where are you ? LET'S BE HAVING YOU !!!

user39: her winning the golds regardless isn't enough i need a gun

espn: ... i'm sorry?

lewishamilton: YOU SHOULD BE

espn: sir, i am just an intern who posts what i am given

yourusername: well now you're making me feel bad

espn: i can give you my boss' email?

lewishamilton: YES PLEASE LET ME AT EM

user40: bullying works?

lewishamilton: i'm so so so so so so proud and so so so glad that everything lined up for me to be there and witness your excellence in person 🙇🏾

yourusername: i love you so much and couldn't have done it without you, all those facetime dates and missed anniversaries are worth it in the end

yourusername: although i am looking forward to following you around the world again for a bit

user41: thank fuck you're not retiring ????

yourusername: who said that ??? @espn was it you again??

espn: not this time i swear!

yourusername: i can confirm that i am not retiring, us terrorising all the youngsters in our sport is kind of our whole bit

lewishamilton: although some people could learn to walk away - cough @fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: really?

lewishamilton: beef waits for no one

fernandoalo_oficial: well i personally was cheering on y/n, you can choke

user42: how does y/n look so good even after racing?

yourusername: getting laid well and often 👍🏼

lewishamilton: you're welcome

yourusername: i love you 🥰

lewishamilton: i love you more

fin.

note: hope you guys enjoyed!! swimming is always my favourite olympic sport (i also swam for ten years so that's probably why lol)

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (1) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: My first Rafe fic :)

word count: 4.4k

In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin. 

As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there. 

He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could. 

After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house. 

There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls. 

The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”

Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you. 

Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him. 

“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.” 

The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase. 

He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors. 

An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different. 

“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on.  He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”

Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint. 

The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.

“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you. 

“Mr. Cameron-”

“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.” 

As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you. 

Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him. 

He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted. 

You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg. 

He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you. 

You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself. 

His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake. 

As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”

“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”

Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”

“And why’s that?”  

“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.

“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his. 

“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills,  although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”

“Your guys run their mouths.”

“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”

Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars. 

“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”

Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”

Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.” 

You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted. 

Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom. 

Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice. 

You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle. 

You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress. 

“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”

Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure. 

You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”

When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting. 

Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away. 

“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”

You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”

He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”

You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next. 

“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”

You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added. 

You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”

Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed. 

“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”

Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant. 

Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?” 

His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”

“This whole room is just for me?”

“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”

You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”

You nodded. 

“Tell me.”

“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further. 

“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”

You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”

“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”

“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”

“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect,  “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”

“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”

“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”

This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”

He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”

Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?” 

Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”

“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress. 

“I thought you wanted me …”

“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”

You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”

Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”

“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“You’re welcome, Bambi.”

Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab. 

Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics. 

That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”

“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”

“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”

“Your father, was he like Master?”

“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”

You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”

“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly. 

“You’ll punish me?”

Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”

You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you. 

He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him. 

Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you. 

“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”

Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”

“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”

“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”

Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out. 

He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.

“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over. 

Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.” 

“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff. 

He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.” 

He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened. 

“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.

“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”

Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!

Part 2