#Mi6 confession

[aziraphales-library]

Hey y'all, first off, thanks for the great work you're doing!

I'm looking for Aziracrow fics with like,, one of them as an FBI agent and the other as art consultant or something like that. I already checked if there's anything in a possible art heist tag, I also looked for crossovers with White Collar, which has a similar premise, and I didn't really find anything. Maybe there's nothing, but I thought maybe you'd have an idea :) Thank you!!

Hello! So, the best I can do is fics in which one of them works in law enforcement of some kind, and the other works in either a different department or completely different job, and they work together in some way. Hope this was the kind of thing you're after!...

Containing Seeds of Destruction by feathereddino (T)

Lower Tadfield is a rural, sleepy little village that is trying to be a town. The crimes that Police Constable A.J. Crowley usually responds to are mundane but never evil. His husband, police psychologist Dr. A.Z. Fell appreciates that their combined caseload reflects that banality. That all changes in 2008 with a call about an abandoned baby. Adam Young's surrender will spark a series of events that will impact their village, their careers, and their personal lives.

What Will Destroy You by EveningStarcatcher (E)

London, 1888 Police Inspector Aziraphale Fell forms an unlikely alliance with Reporter Anthony Crowley to investigate the Whitechapel Murders. Can they solve the mystery and stop the so called Ripper before he strikes again?

Tadfield's Finest by angelsnuffbox (E)

The sleepy town of Tadfield is thoroughly shaken by the arrival of DI Crowley. Where barely anything ever happened before, there is now a bustle of low grade criminal activity, and everyone knows where to point the blame. Gabriel thinks he's a bad omen for the town, many others are quick to agree. Meanwhile, Aziraphale from SOCO just thinks he's hot. Ridiculously so.

and salt the Earth behind you by sunrisesinthesuburbs (E)

Detective (well, Profiler actually, not that anyone seems to care) Aziraphale Fell should have dropped his one and only Criminal Informant the moment he realized he was already falling in love with the man. Alas, he's never had good ideas regarding his self-preservation: when Anthony Crowley calls, he always comes. He will always come. If this wasn't already very bad, his feelings are apparently reciprocated and, in the meantime, his unit has to catch the worst serial killer Washington D.C. has probably ever seen. Crowley has no intention of leaving Aziraphale to deal with this on his own; Aziraphale has no intention of letting Crowley do something stupid just for his sake. Ah, if only love could ever be something easy. “Sometimes I wish I’d met you in a park.” Crowley’s hands move lower, down, down until he reaches Aziraphale’s palms and intertwines their fingers. There isn’t a single chance this gesture can fall under the umbrella of ‘plausible deniability’. Though nothing about this sort of impromptu confession could. “A park, uh? Nice.” A squeeze. “I always imagine something like a library. Or a bookshop or, not sure, whatever place is full of books.”

For His Eyes Only by AFrenchFanWriter (M)

Anthony J. Crowley has been an MI6 spy for 10 years, completing successful mission after successful mission under the guidance of his quartermaster, Aziraphale Fell. But this life is starting to take its toll on him as he is getting older; and when, one day, his past comes back to haunt him, Crowley realizes that it might be time for him to hang up his gun and face all the things he has left unaddressed… (Yep, it is basically a James Bond/Q AU!)

On Espionage and Prophecy (or How to Accidentally, but Wholly, Fall in Love With a Soho Bookseller) by RockSaltAndRoll (E)

1941 is the London Blitz and the year that MI5 really comes into its own with the now infamous ‘double cross’ system. The service keep tabs on suspects, root out enemy agents and try to turn them into doubles. Anthony J Crowley is fucking great at this job. He can be sneaky, underhanded and damn ruthless but also charming and kind. It’s what makes him good at turning. Aziraphale is just a regular Soho bookseller who loves his shop and books and good food and wine when he’s approached by a woman claiming to be MI5, wanting to recruit him for espionage. The poor man is too trusting and gets the shock of his life when he’s approached by a charming but dangerous-looking man also claiming to be MI5. Crowley recruits Aziraphale to double cross a double crosser and Aziraphale takes to espionage like a duck to water. Danger, hijinks, and sex ensue.

- Mod D

[samanthahirr]

007 Fest 2024 Intro Post

Well, I got here at a quarter to 9 for my meeting with Bill Tanner—the chief of staff's my main point of contact. And quite a good friend, really, since I've been servicing EPS's contract for the Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office here for the last three years, and…oh, sorry, I'm Bethany Arden, the EPS facilities manager for MI6's Vauxhall headquarters. You could say I know every inch of this building—because I do! From the physical-security perimeter barriers outside to every air vent and water pipe, there's no structural detail too small for my blueprints.

And today, I came bearing great news! The FCDO finally approved a budget for a much-needed refresh of the furnishings. Listen, can I be honest for a moment? I love this building to bits, but it's one of the ugliest in my portfolio by far, strictly on an interior design basis. You have to agree, this place's design aesthetic should have been buried along with Margaret Thatcher—all that walnut wainscoting and brown leather upholstery, ugh. Hardly the modern, agile look and feel you want to project to important visitors, is it?

Speaking of agile, you should see the new ergonomic chair designs in my supplier's 2024 catalogue. They've also got some surprisingly affordable standing desks that raise and lower with the press of a button—who says you can't be Equality Act-compliant and still be stylish, eh?

So, as I was saying, I arrived early, lugging this far-too-heavy-for-me tote bag of fabric and paint swatches…oh, could you? That's so kind, thank you. And I confess my nose was buried in another catalogue, bookmarking new seating units that might replace those dreadfully uncomfortable plaid numbers in the lobby, so I didn't even notice Doris at the front desk was asleep at her post for a whole five minutes. I mean, I did think it odd that Bill didn't answer my text right away; he's always appreciative of punctuality. But then someone started screaming down the hall, and when I finally looked around I spotted Doris, and those two guards passed out in the corner, and—

Well. Looks like I'll be rescheduling my meeting. Once all of this is…sorted. But don't you think we ought to call emergency services? Surely some outside help will straighten this out. No? Oh. Oh, I suppose you're right. Well, all hands on deck, as they say. I'm happy to help however I can.

Just, um, one more thing. Has anyone seen Bill?

~

Hi all, I'm samanthahirr aka Sam, and I'm so looking forward to my third 007 Fest for the @mi6-cafe! I'm on Station Atlantic, and I bring fic-writing, moodboard-dabbling, and enthusiastic-commenting skills to the team!

[natchastxin]

trip to venice.

Summary: Ilsa brings you to Venice despite your refusal and you confess to her the feelings of hurt you’ve had since she left you in Amsterdam three months ago which leads you to join Ethan’s team. You find her in the aftermaths of the fight on the bridge.

Pairings: Ilsa Faust x f!reader

Warnings: blood, slight smut

A/N: I just finished watching Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning Part 1 so I’m writing this to make myself feel less sad. And obviously there are spoilers for MI Dead Reckoning so don’t read if you don’t want to.

You loved her, you really loved her and you thought she felt the same way too. She told you so herself just that night she spent in your room in Paris after a stressful mission. So why did you find your bed empty and apartment bare as if she was never there? Had you dreamed the whole night?

The only evidence that proved that the night had transpired was the singular note she left on your nightstand, propped up against a glass of water. On it, etched on the delicate white paper was a single letter: I. The letter was accompanied with a heart that was drawn in the same swoopy style as the letter.

You picked it up and quickly turned it over in your hands to see if she had written anything else. Much to your disappointment, that was it. You laid back in your bed with the note clutched over your heart and closed your eyes as the scenes of last night flashed behind your eyelids.

—

A frenzied knocking woke you from where you had fallen asleep on your couch while watching your movie. Worried sick about Ilsa, you thought it best to distract your mind with something else. She came to your apartment before she left for Kashmir, letting you know how the mission was going to go down as you braided her hair.

You met her while in the MI6. She was the agent and you were... well, you were also an agent but you were better known for your bomb-diffusing skills, how well you handled a knife, and your medical skills. Funny thing, that was actually how you met her, in a knife combat. You were tasked to bring her in because she had information on a known terrorist and caught her off guard. The fight ended with both of your legs wrapped around one another's necks until you called truce.

You fell for her quickly, quicker than anyone you had ever fell for before. It hit you that you were falling for her the way waves break against a barrier of rocks. You came to the realization one late night that two of you had gone to a bar for drinks.

You sat across from her in the headquarters in London, staring at her in your own subtle way— in a way that you thought she didn't notice— but she soon caught on whenever she looked up and you would quickly look back down at your paperwork. For her, she fell for you more gradually. It was a gentle love for her that she received from you, it was like the cool afternoon breeze that rustled through the trees of the forest; it enveloped you and left you wanting more when it left. This pining between the two of you lasted for years, through her disavowal which was shortly followed by your resignation from the MI6 to do privately contracted work all the way to the day she confessed to you that she loved you when she showed up at your apartment front door.

You opened the door and she was greeted by your very disheveled appearance. "Hey," she croaked out and your eyes immediately brightened, any trace of fatigue disappearing from your eyes.

"Ilsa."

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," she said, smirking.

"You're one to talk," you said, pretending to be cross and resting your hands on your hips. But you can barely keep your facade up long. Your real emotions of fear quickly break through your expression. Your lip trembles and you pull her towards you. She drops her duffle bag onto the ground and lets you melt into her embrace. "You were supposed to call," you tell her, you voice muffled by her shoulder. She laces her fingers through your hair to hold you close.

"I'm sorry, darling," she tells you and hugs you tightly, "I'm here now, I'm okay. We got to the bomb in time."

"The bomb?" You said, wiping your nose on your sleeve while pulling away, "Why didn't you call me? I could've helped."

"We didn't have time," she sighed out, "I got here as fast as I could."

"Come on," you said pulling her in, "I'll make you a drink."

—

The night progresses rapidly and both you and Ilsa down multiple drinks as she tells you how the mission unfolded.

"I have something to tell you," Ilsa said.

"Hmm?"

She pressed the lip of her beer against her chin and leaned towards you. "I love you," she said. Your heart beats rapidly against your rib cage and you breathe in that intoxicating perfume scent of hers. Her grip on the slippery glass tightened for a few seconds while silence filled the air as you came to terms with what the woman before you confessed. "I love you too," you whispered out. She takes your beer out of your hand and places it on the coffee table along with hers. She kissed you then, threading her fingers through your thick hair, trying to bring your lips closer to hers.

"I've loved you all these years," she tells you.

"Let's not waste any more apart," you said, "Do you want this?" You bring your hand to the first button of her shirt to indicate what you meant.

"I have longed for this day since the day I met you," she tells you, "I want this— I want you."

She straddles your waist and your arms encircle around her, bringing her impossibly close to your body.

You bring her to your bed and you make sweet love to her that night, you're gentle as she is with you. She lets you worry over her injuries and press kisses to the bruises on her neck. She cums on your fingers then your tongue multiple times and you bury your head into her heat for as long as she lets you, she then returns the favor until you're shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Mustering the remaining strength you had in your legs, you straddled her and brought both of your cores to each other, rubbing until she sobbed as she came and your thighs burned with exhaustion. You collapse next to her and bring her close to your chest. You kiss the top of her head and brush her hair with your fingers.

"Stay," you tell her, whispering it into the dark corners of the room, "I know you have to leave soon, but stay for the next two days— for me."

She closed her eyes tightly and let out a hesitant breath, "Only for you."

She kisses your chest, then your neck— sucking on your pulse point to mark you as hers. To be fair, you had done your fair share of marking up her body so now it was time she took her revenge. She kissed you long and slow, nibbling on your bottom lip until your lips became red like cherries. She takes your breath away every time she pulls away and you stare into her beautiful iridescent eyes. She slowly falls asleep in your arms and you spend the time counting the freckles on her eyelids before falling asleep as well. You held her close that night, not wanting to let go.

You woke up that morning blissful— if only that lasted for more than a minute. The bed was empty and so was the apartment. She had vacated and left not a single trace of her presence. That broke you. You collapsed to the floor, sobbing and clawing at your chest. Little did you know, this started a cycle for you and Ilsa. A cycle that always led her back into your arms in that tiny apartment in Paris. The next year, she waltzes in and out of your life whenever she pleases. It was as if she had forgotten that first night you had with her entirely. She would fuck you then leave the next morning and you were happy to give that to her if that meant you could have her for that little while.

You used to tell her about the dream you had for the both of you. The one that included laughter, coffee dates, the strolls you would take at the local park, the paintings the two of you would pick out to decorate your apartment, the patter of small feet that would fill the silence of the morning, and the infinite love that the two of you would share. She would lay there with her eyes closed, smiling happy. It was the only way this dream existed for her— in that small bed inside of the small Paris apartment you owned. The only place that dream lived was in yours and Ilsa's minds. You dreamt of a world where no one knew your names, a world where you could live anonymously, stroll down the streets hand-in-hand, free from the fear of someone harming you or Ilsa. She hides her tears when you describe this dream to her each time the two of you lay naked, sprawled together late at night. She let you dream for the two of you because that was the only way she could truly make you happy. You knew that she didn't want the same future you wanted but you endured.

Three months of taking the torture, you had finally confronted her. Not given the response that you deemed to be the truth, you sent her out of your apartment in fury, swearing that you never wanted to see her again.

"I thought what we had was real, Ilsa," you had told her, "You told me you loved me that first night in Paris when you got back from your mission with Ethan."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled.

The truth was that Ilsa was scared. She was scared what would happen if other people knew just how madly in love with you she was. She saw what happened to Ethan and how it affected him. She didn't want anything bad to happen to you so instead she kept you a secret and kept the relationship to a minimum because she saw it as the only way she could protect you. She would have you in the only way she could but she never knew how much she would hurt you in the process. You finally came to the realization of why she was treating you like such an ass one day the both of you had spent the night in Amsterdam.

"You're not Ethan," you told her in bed one night as you held her close, "And I'm not totally helpless. I know you love me, Ilsa. And I love you, more than you know. Despite everything you've done these past three months, I still love you even though I shouldn't."

"But I can't protect you."

"Baby, I can protect myself. You forget that I was a trained agent too. This is my life, I'm not going to let some future terrorist dictate who I should be able to love."

She left again that morning and that was the last you saw of her for the next three months.

—

Your head throbbed as you sat up. You quickly began taking in your surroundings and noticed that you were in a moving van. You clutched your head in pain.

"Hey, darling," a familiar voice said and your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach. Familiar hands grabbed yours but you shook them off.

"Where am I? What are you doing here? What happened?"

No one gives you an answer. It seems like the two men at the front are waiting for Ilsa to answer you but she doesn't. All she does is stare.

"Fine, I'm leaving then if you won't give me an answer."

You stand up and you're about to open the door when Ilsa grabs your free arm. That does it for you. You twist in her grasp and eventually pin her down in the van.

"Don't fucking touch me," you spat.

"Hey now, c'mon," Benji in the passenger seat finally said, "Just tell her, Ilsa."

"We knocked you out when you came out of your favorite cafe. Something bad is happening, I— we need you," she said and it comes out barely a whisper. Your expression changes.

You finally let her go and sit up. She sits up and coughs, rubbing her chest.

"Why? Why now?" You asked, looking deliberately at Ilsa, waiting for her to answer.

"We're going up against this new enemy and we could use your help," Benji answered instead, "Ilsa has told us about your skills and, well, we need someone like you."

"Thanks, but I'm not interested. She knows why."

You motion to stand up again and this time Ilsa speaks in a stronger voice.

"Y/N. Please," she pleaded. You look at her, which was the first mistake. You could never deny her anything. You would always say yes to her even if it cost you. Your jaw clenched in frustration.

"Fine. But if I do this, I don't want to talk to you or see you ever again. You got it?"

"I understand," she said even though it felt like her heart was being wrenched from her body.

"You've hurt me enough times," you told her.

The two men at the front of the car exchange looks.

—

You sat in the back of the van when Benji brings Ethan in. You had only met Ethan once before, he was nice. But you didn't tend to base how good a person was from first impressions.

"Y/N," he said when he noticed you.

"Ethan," you replied.

"Nice to see you."

You nodded. He looks back and sees Ilsa's deliberately avoidant gaze, looking anywhere but at you. He lets out a very small sigh and looks at Benji who gives him a grimace, shaking his head. He knew what happened between you and Ilsa, one of three people that knew. He knew how much the two of you loved one another and how stubborn Ilsa could be. You, on the other hand, from his singular encounter with you, he knew that you had a kind soul. Why else would Ilsa love you so? Even if she refused to admit it.

You hold up a paper clip and help free Ethan from his handcuffs. "Are you okay?" He asked.

You nodded your head, busying yourself with unlocking his handcuffs.

"I'm always fine," you told him once you freed him.

"So what's the plan?" You asked.

—

"What would potentially happen if a government got their hands on this AI tech?" You asked while sharpening your knife nervously.

"We don't know," Ethan said, "We need to find the other half of the key to find out."

Luther shows him the surveillance footage from the chase in the airport, "I took out the footage from your glasses and looked through everything. See anything strange?"

He notices a man glitching and replays the footage, "It's like he's a ghost."

"We can't find actual video of him except for right here," Luther stops at a frame of Grace, "He only exists in this reflection."

"The Entity," Ethan says, his voice dropping to a whisper, "It's protecting him."

"You saw him, didn't you?" Luther said.

"I did, but I wasn't sure."

"Well who is he?" Benji asked.

"Someone I thought died a long time ago," Ethan said, "In another life, before the IMF. Before I was offered the choice."

Ethan looks up at Luther, "In a very real sense, he made me into who I am today."

Luther grimaced.

"Does he have a name?" Luther asked.

"He calls himself Gabriel," Ilsa said, turning from the window. You look over at her and she meets your gaze before switching to Ethan's.

"You know him," Ethan said.

"There is no knowing him. He has no recorded past— the Entity made sure of that. He's a dark Messiah. The Entity's chosen messenger and he sees death as a gift he wants to share with the rest of the world."

"How do you know this?"

"I still have a few friends in MI6."

She looks back at you but you look away. "Friends who are afraid," she continued, "Of the British government gaining control of the Entity. Any attempt to try to stop them would be seen as an act of treason."

"And because you're disavowed," you said, "Friends called and asked you for help."

"They knew Gabriel served the Entity," she said, "They knew he was on his way to Istanbul to acquire one half of the key but I beat him to it."

"Do your friends know what this key leads to?"

"They believe it leads to its source code."

"Source code," Luther echoed.

"When were you going to tell me this?" Ethan asked.

"I'm telling you now," she said.

"Hold on, did you talk to them in person?" You asked, "Your friends. Did this happen over a phone call?"

"I'm disavowed so they had no way of contacting me in person."

Her expression changed when she realized what you were implying.

"He wanted you to find the key," you said, your voice coming to a whisper, "He wanted you to bring the key to Ethan. This was a trap."

"No, we can't be sure that was the Entity," she said.

"We can't be sure it wasn't," you replied.

"We can't believe anything outside of this very conversation," Ethan said, "None of you should be here."

—

You sat with Benji in the other room as he revised the firewalls on his laptop. You leaned back in your chair, having switched to a different knife to sharpen.

"Why did you guys choose me? Of all the people you could've called, why me?"

"Ilsa wanted you here. She wanted to see you and make sure you were safe."

"Bullshit. She doesn't care about me," you laughed.

He looks at you and your belief in your words falters.

"Why did she leave me then?"

"It's the only way she could think to protect you. Yes, I know how that contradicts the fact that you're here now but you're the best agent she knows and she thinks that maybe she can better protect you this way."

"That's stupid," you scoffed.

"Not everything is always a clear path in Ilsa's head."

You look away to where Ilsa is standing in the other room. Benji follows your gaze.

"She still loves you, despite everything she's done to make it look otherwise and I'm guessing you still love her too."

You give an imperceptible nod of your head.

"Go tell her before it's too late. With our line of work, we never know how much time we get with one another."

"You're very wise, you know," you said, "When you want to be."

"Thank you," Benji said, his face brightening.

You walk to the room in which Ilsa is standing in. You tilt your head to the door leading to the roof and she nodded. You went first. She follows a few minutes later.

You stood on the rooftop, gripping the railing tightly. You bent down and stretched your shoulders before resting on the railing with your forearms. She walks over and leans with her back against the sunset. She lets out a loud sigh.

"You're mad at me," she noted.

"Great observation," you said sarcastically.

"Y/N..."

"What? What do you want from me, Ilsa? I've given you everything I have. Every time you turned for me I was there and now you pull me into this mission. You couldn't even talk to me first? I would've said yes, you know. All you had to do was ask. I would always be there, despite everything."

She doesn't say anything so you look at her. Hot tears are rolling down her face. Your heart broke again even though you knew that it shouldn't.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Those nights in Paris then in Amsterdam."

Silence fills the air when she pauses. "I had a mission after Amsterdam and faked my death," she said quietly, "I wanted you to come with me but then I remembered everything I did— how I hurt you."

You turn around and lean against the railing, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I didn't realize that in my efforts to protect you, just how much I was hurting you in the process. I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness but I want to give this a chance, a real chance this time."

You looked over at her, "I wanted to give this a chance too. I always have. But I don't want to get hurt again. I can't keep doing that to myself."

"I know. But what if I promised you that I would try? I want to be with you, whatever it takes," she said.

You think about it, was it really worth it to give her another chance? She was the love of your life, yes, but she had hurt you so many times, though not intentionally.

"Fine," you said, uncrossing your arms, "I'll give us a try. But I want complete honesty from here on out.

She nods, "I can do that."

So you let her back into your heart because your love for her outweighed the grudge you held against and it was the only thing you ever knew how to do.

She hugs you hesitantly and you move your arms to hold her closer. She smelled the same as the night in Amsterdam. You brushed your fingers through her desert colored highlights. She tucks her head under your chin, revelling in the comfort your embrace brought her.

"I promise that I won't hurt you," she said, "Not intentionally."

You kissed the crown of her hair and she looked up at you before meeting your lips. You let her deepen the kiss as you pull her even closer to you. She found a home in you that day. You held her closely by the waist, not wanting to let her go. A smile tugs at both your lips.

"You know, I've never been to Venice," she said.

"Really?" You said.

"Yeah, it's my first time here."

"Hmm, maybe I'll show you around after this mission's over. What do you think?"

"I think... it sounds like perfection."

She bit her bottom lip adorably before snuggling her head into your chest. You never wanted to let her slip away ever again. She feels your grip on her waist tighten as your mind drifts once more to the plan. She was going to meet Gabriel at the bridge and fake her death. The margin for error was so small, barely imperceptible to the human eye.

"What's wrong?" She asked, brushing her nose against your jaw.

"I don't like this plan," you confessed, "There's too many things that can go wrong. It's not safe."

"Darling, it's the only way we'll be free," she tried her best to make you see the brighter side of the plan.

"You could die, Ilsa. I can't have that happen."

"I'll be careful. He'll hit me here," she said, guiding your hand just clear of her heart, "I'll be sure of it. Besides, if things get out of hand, death will just have to withstand my will to stay alive."

"Ilsa, don't joke," you said, looking away. Your eyes sting with tears threatening to run away.

"I'm not joking- hey, look at me," she cups your jaw with one hand, "I'll come back to you, I promise." She rested her forehead against yours. "I'll be fine," she told you.

She follows you back down where everyone is changing into their attire for the party. Ilsa pulls you into her room and sits you down on a crate. She sits in between your legs. You give her a perplexed look.

"Could you braid my hair?" She asked quietly and your mouth breaks into a smile. "Of course."

You brush her hair gently to one side. She plays with her fingers while you comb through her hair, plaiting it expertly.

"I haven't had my hair braided since you left me," she confessed, "You've always been the person to do it for me."

You smile to yourself at the thought of this simple activity she saved just for you. You finish braiding her hair and place it over her shoulder. You kiss the side of your neck and she turns to capture your lips. She rises onto her knees and laces her fingers through your hair, pulling you to her. Her tongue slides against yours as you deepen the kiss. She moans into your mouth and you grip her waist tightly. You nibble on her bottom lip before she does the same to you.

Ethan walks in and the two of you break apart. A smile creeps onto his face. "Glad the two of you finally came to your senses," he said and a blush rises to both your cheeks, "Could I get a minute with Y/N?"

Ilsa nods and leaves the two of you alone but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your palm.

She walks back into the common area where Luther and Benji are working on their laptops.

"Nice hair," Luther commented.

"Why are your lips red?" Benji asked.

Her fingers rises to her lips instinctively and she blushes.

"Oh my god," Benji said and Luther smirks.

He stands up and points his finger while following her. She ducks and speed walks to the equipment. "You guys are back together aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Benji," trying her best to keep a poker face.

Benji smirks and crosses his arms across his chest, "I like seeing you happy. The two of you are good for each other, clearly."

Ilsa blushes again before ducking her head and rummaging through a duffle bag, "Thanks."

—

"I have a task for you," Ethan said, "While we're at the party, I want you to follow us from a distance. We have the advantage of Gabriel not knowing who you are. I need you to follow Ilsa and protect her. I won't be able to do that while I get Gabriel. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course, Ethan," you replied. He nods, "You'll be off comms so that there's no distractions. I just want you to follow Ilsa, don't worry about me. Alright?"

You nod.

"Take the weapons you need. I'll come find you when everything's done," Ethan said. He goes to stand up but you grab his arm, "Stick to the plan. Let her fake her death. I know it's going to seem real but don't worry, we've got this."

He blinks appreciatively at your reassurance. "Good luck," he said.

—

You were following Grace, Ilsa, and Ethan to the party. Watching them from a distance. Ethan had told Ilsa to run so you followed her to make sure that she would be alright. You finally caught up to her in a deserted alleyway. She swings at you with her fist before realizing who was following her. You duck and grab her arm.

"Y/N?" She said, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Ethan sent me, he told me to follow the three of you from a distance. He asked me to protect you." You moved in closer to her and inspected her face and she closed her eyes, taking in your concerned touch. "I'm alright," she told you.

"Good, you had me worried back there," you said. She opens her eyes and sees that you haven't moved from your spot. One of your hands moves from her face to her hip and pull her flush against you.

"I missed this," you whisper to her. She puts a hand against your abdomen. "What are you waiting for then?" She husked out. Her hand scrunches the front of your shirt and pulls you even closer to her body. You meet her lips, they were soft and they enveloped your own.

You pull away and rest your forehead against her. "We should probably go," Ilsa told you and you nodded, agreeing.

"I'll be right behind you," you said, "Do you have a weapon?"

She half unsheathes the sword she's holding and you smirk. "That's my girl," you said. You take one of the five knives on your body and tuck it into the back of the waistband of her pants, you hide the weapon with her shirt.

"I added a little something special," you told her.

She smiled and kissed you, "Let's go."

She takes off running and you run behind her. You hear faint sounds of combat and Ilsa comes to a quick stop, causing you to crash into her. She held a finger up to her lips. She motioned for you to stay here but you shook your head. She motioned for you to just wait and you reluctantly agreed.

She walks up to the bridge and you wait tensely behind the corner, glancing over to your girlfriend to make sure she was alright. She starts fighting Gabriel and she gets stabbed in the leg. She lets out a heart wrenching scream and you run over swiftly and quietly. You unsheathe the knife from behind your back and slash his thigh— his femoral artery. He yells in pain and clutches his leg; blood gushed past his fingers.

"Who the hell are you?" He grunted. "No one that you need to know." You flip your knife and help Ilsa stand up. "Go check on Grace. I'll handle him."

She limps over to Grace and checks her pulse. You momentarily let your guard down and Gabriel gets back up. "Y/N, look out!" She screamed. Gabriel punched you in the back of the head and knocked you out.

Ilsa's vision turned red with anger when she saw your body crumple to the ground. She picks up the sword again and advances toward Gabriel. Her swipes are sloppy and Gabriel can see it but nonetheless she gets a few slashes in. He takes advantage of her sloppiness and knocks her sword away easily. He slashes at her abdomen and it barely misses her. He cuts open her stomach and she lets out a gasp and clutched her stomach. He pins her against the side of the bridge. "This is what happens to whoever cares about Ethan Hunt," he hissed in her ear, "When I'm done with you I'll carve up your little partner. She'll look so pretty all slashed up."

"Don't ever fucking touch her," Ilsa gasped out in between breaths. Her hand inches to the knife you had tucked into her waistband.

"I kill you first and she won't have anyone to protect her," he cackled.

"She doesn't need me to protect her."

She pulls out her knife and stabs the side of his body. "If anything, she's been the one to protect me all along." He doubled over in pain.

He grunted angrily and stood back up, stabbing Ilsa in the chest, she moved slightly to the side as he did so. Her eyes opened in shock, letting out a shaky breath. She looks down at the knife then back at Gabriel.

Gabriel stumbles back and lets Ilsa slide to the floor. She closes her eyes to control her breathing. You finally open your eyes, your head is throbbing and you look around. You push yourself up with much difficulty and see Gabriel's retreating figure. "Hey, asshole," you yelled out, "You forgot to kill me."

"Your time will come," Gabriel said.

You stumbled to your feet and pulled a small dagger from your boot. As he turns his back, you throw the dagger at him. It lodged in his back and he fell over before crawling away.

You look around and see Ilsa and your heart drops to your stomach. You run over her and see the knife. Quickly taking her head into your lap, you check her pulse, letting out a temporary sigh of relief. However, that relief didn't stay for long, you had a performance to put on. You hunch over Ilsa's body and cry. Your shoulders shake as you discreetly take out her earpiece and crush it beneath your boot. You lower your lips to her ear.

"You did really good. I'm so proud of you," you whisper into her ear. From a distance, it just looks like your grieving over your lover's dead body.

You brush her hair soothingly, continuing to let the tears flow.

"I love you," you told her. Her eyes twitch so you press a kiss to each of her eyelids, over her freckles. You hold her head close to your body and she stays motionless.

You hear heavy sounds of footsteps from the distance and you know it's Ethan. Grace would be waking up any minute now.

"No!" Ethan yells when he sees Ilsa's limp body in your arms. He places his finger to her pulse and his eyes soften to sadness. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen," he said.

You sniffle and brush your tears, "She died protecting others. It's what she would've wanted."

Grace finally comes to and realizes what happened. She's in shock seeing Ilsa's "dead" body. "No, that wasn't supposed to happen. She's not supposed to be dead, she wasn't supposed to sacrifice herself," Grace starts hyperventilating, "Why did she do that? I didn't ask her to do that."

You lovingly brush at Ilsa's chestnut hair. "Ilsa was doing what she loved," you tell her without looking at her. You look at Ethan and place a hand on his knee, "Go talk to her."

You continue talking to her despite the fact that you look mad doing it. "You did good, my love. You did so good. I hope you can finally have some peace." You press a kiss to her warm lips before pressing your forehead against her.

Benji quickly but surely arrives only a couple of seconds later. He takes in Grace's hysterical expression and Ethan comforting her before his gaze landed on you. Your back faced him but he could see the tip of Ilsa's head. He hops out of the boat and rushed over to you.

"No, it can't be true. Ilsa..."

He takes in her pale complexion and the lack of movement from her chest. You look up with your tear-stricken eyes and a string of silent communication travels from your eyes to his. It was done.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. This wasn't how it was to go down."

You nodded sadly, "I know."

You sniff harshly and brush your tears away roughly. "Please can we just take her home," you clear your throat, "I don't want us to be all exposed here and she deserves a proper burial."

Benji nods, understanding, "Do you need me to help?"

You shake your head and lift her easily into your arms. You take her back onto the boat to the underside, safe from the eyes of the Entity where she finally opens her eyes. You burst into tears then, for real this time. She brushes them away, shushing you.

"I love you too," she whispered to you, "I'm okay. Didn't I tell you everything would be fine?"

You nod, still trying to recover from the events of the bridge.

"If you could give me a hand though," she said pointedly, looking at the knife.

"Oh yes, of course."

"It's a cute knife but it would be better out of my body," she muttered.

You chuckle before indicating to her shirt then your knife, she nods. You slice open her shirt to get better access to the wound. "If you wanted take me to bed you could've just asked," she teased and you rolled your eyes.

You open your duffle bag to take out your medical supplies. You spray antiseptic over her wound and she hisses. "Sorry."

She shook her head, "It's fine. Do whatever you need to."

You get a firm grip on the knife and give it a big tug. It comes out quickly and leaves Ilsa groaning in pain. You toss the knife across the boat and rip open a packet of gauze and cover her wound. "Here, apply pressure. I'll stitch you up."

You take out your suturing kit and help her lay down in the cramped cabin of the boat.

"I only have numbing spray," you tell her and she nods, "Okay, it might sting a little."

She nods again. You remove the gauze and throw 3 tight but delicate sutures on her shoulder before wrapping her chest with bandages.

"Now let's look at that stomach of yours," you said before moving to her abdomen. It had a wider slash but the cut wasn't as deep as the one of her chest. You stitch it up nonetheless then wrap it. You move to her leg and she very gracefully takes off her pants to reveal the wound. It was a small slice, 2 inches wide. You stitch her up and bandage her.

Benji stomps on the floor of the boat to indicate your arrival. You look back at Ilsa. "Ready to hide again?" You asked and she nods. You drape a sheet over her body before lifting her into your arms and carrying her to the safe house. Luther gives your arm a squeeze when he sees you and you blink appreciatively before going to the room you had claimed and laying her on the bed. You remove the sheet and she looks back at you.

"Get some rest," you told her.

—

She was still bleeding heavily despite the stitches you gave her but you were on your own. The rest of the team had left to deal with the mission while you stayed behind and cared for Ilsa. You cleaned her bandages each night and replenished her with nutrients. You bought medical supplies and stole some from a local hospital and brought them back to her. She gets a fever on the second day and falls unconscious, shuddering ever so slightly in her sleep.

You took in her pale appearance in the bed. She sunk into the bed and her freckles looked dull. They never looked like that. You prayed for her to wake up so that the color would return to them. She looked so weak, her skin as pale as moonlight. She looked too frail. Too unlike the Ilsa you knew. You knew she had to get better soon, she had too. You wrung put a wet cloth and wiped her burning forehead. She starting to show early signs of infection so you fed her antibiotics and stayed by her side every night, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest.

Her fever finally broke on the fourth day. She wakes up and say your hunched over position by the side of her bed. She smiled gratefully at her guardian angel and combed through your hair. You sat up quickly at the feeling.

"You're alive," she croaked, her throat raspy from disuse.

"You're awake. God, I thought we would never make it out of that," you tell her.

"Oh baby," she said, a hand coming up to your face, brushing your cheek, "I'm okay. I'm alive. See?"

She brings your fingers to her wrist and you felt her soothing heart beat. You laid your head against her wrist. "Come, lay with me."

She slowly scoots over and you slide onto the bed with her and take her into your arms. "Don't move too much," you told her, "You'll tear your stitches."

"Thank you for being here," she said.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else. Just get some sleep, darling. I'll be here when you wake up," you told her, smoothing her hair. "Thank you for coming back to me," you whispered into her hairline and she closed her eyes with a smile on her face. You kiss her freckles repeatedly until she falls asleep.

—

When she finally heals, that's when the two of you say your goodbyes. Ethan, Benji, and Luther were the only ones there.

"But if you need me, I'll only be a call away," she told him and slipped a flip phone into his front pocket, "Only use it for emergencies. As far as the world knows, I'm dead." She gives him a tight hug. "And what about you?" Ethan asked, "What happens in your story?"

You shrug, "The love of my life dies and I decide to move to the quiet countryside of France and teach English." Ethan smiles, nodding his head, "That suits you." He gives you a hug as well.

"Treat her well," he told you and you nodded.

"If you're ever in France and need somewhere to stay..." you trailed off.

"I look forward to taking you up on your offer," he said.

"You ready?" You asked Ilsa and she nodded. She picked up her duffle bag and gave her last farewells to Luther and Benji.

"Come visit, okay?" She tells the both of them and they nod.

"Take care, Ilsa," Benji said while hugging her.

You approach Ethan one more time and take your favorite knife out from behind your back. It had an ivory white handle, a Persian tip, and a beautifully intricate wave pattern over the blade.

"This is for Grace. Tell her it's my gift to her for joining the IMF and taking Ilsa's place. We finally gets our happy ending now and it's all thanks to her."

Ethan nods, "I will."

"If any of you ever need us, I'll be there. You're Ilsa's family— mine by extension, we will show up, no matter what."

Ilsa laces her fingers with yours and nods. She gives you a kiss.

"Bye," you said. You and Ilsa exit to the boat that Ethan bought and placed under his name. The plan was to sail to France. It was a short ride and Ethan had packed everything you could possibly need into the boat.

"Go hide," you tell Ilsa and she nodded, "I'll let you know when we reach open waters."

—

You and Ilsa move into a chateau in the countryside, 30 minutes away from the beach. A place where the two of you could start fresh and build your family. There was a quiet town about a 10 minute bike ride, no surveillance cameras, just the eyes of locals who admired the love you and Ilsa had for each other. You and Ilsa went there on the weekends for grocery shopping before wandering around, trying the new patisserie shop around the corner, letting Ilsa feed you bits of croissant. The town made you and Ilsa feel young again, you would go out dancing like you were in your 20s, giggle in the back corners of the bookstore as you kissed one another and picked books for each other, let each other try their ice cream before agreeing which one was better. This quiet life, the one you and Ilsa always dreamed of was finally happening.

The two of you lounged on the couch together, reading. It was raining outside and the fire was crackling. She laid against your chest and you had an arm flung over her shoulder. She looks at your hand, the ring she gave you and smiles contentedly. She fiddles with the ring on your ring finger before smiling back up at you.

"Hey," you said, noticing her staring.

She moved your glasses from your face to the top of your head before cupping your face to kiss you.

"I'm happy we did this," she tells you.

"Me too."

She plays with your fingers while waiting, hesitantly, for the right moment to ask you a question that could change your lives.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" You asked, noticing her shift of mood.

She sits up and turns around, sitting on the backs of her heels, so she can talk to you face-to-face. "Would you ever want kids?" She swallowed harshly, waiting for your answer.

Your lips eventually break into a smile and nod, "If it's with you, then yes."

You put down your book and take her hands into your own before pulling her to rest on your chest. You stroked her back and played with the ends of her hair.

"Is that what was worrying you so much?"

She nods against your chest.

"I've been dreaming about having kids with you for forever, Ilsa. Of course I want them. I can't wait to see a mini you running around the house."

"I could settle for a mini you too," she tells you.

She smiled against your skin, her chest warming at the idea.

She lifts her head and kisses along your jaw. She nestled into the crook of your neck, breathing in your perfume. She felt a sense of fulfillment resting here in your arms. A fulfillment that she never got from joining Ethan's team. You offered her a life filled with love and safety and she wishes she had seen that earlier instead of running away. But there was no point in dwelling on the past now. You held her in your arms and she was going to cherish every single moment she could spend with you.

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

Hi! I’m wondering what Albert would be like in a romantic relationship with Mycroft after the post time skip? How would they confess their feelings? Would Albert’s OCD impact the relationship at all?

Usual disclaimer that, as opposed to Sherliam's (arguable, I suppose) canon status, Mycal is largely a fanon-based ship and therefore there's not really much to go on in canon to use to answer these questions.

Of course, I've been known to think of them as being some kind of kinky passionate bodice ripper (waistcoat ripper? 😂) pair. But if I was basing it at least more on canon, if still not entirely...I think Mycroft would make a very blunt, forthright, and somewhat awkward confession. Albert would politely ask for time to think about it and then go home and have a giant -- albeit quiet-- freakout. William would be absolutely delighted but it would ultimately be Louis shrugging and saying something like "I've always found him quite tolerable" that would be the push for Albert to embrace the idea and accept the fact that it's okay for him to have something he wants.

I think they'd move relatively slowly, almost as if they were courting traditionally even though they're living in a time where their relationship would not be socially accepted. It'd be at least a few months before sex entered the picture. They'd spend a lot of time just talking quietly over tea or even sitting together in silence with their own books or something. But sometimes, they'd get a little competitive over a board or card game or something related to an MI6 mission. They're both oldest siblings, and now and again they'd butt heads (mostly playfully) and get a little snarky.

As for the OCD, one of the reasons I ship them is how well I think Mycroft would accommodate that. Hell, if we incorporate ACD canon, Mycroft is himself a man of such strict routine that it could be interpreted to suggest neurodivergence. Which...well. Could actually cause friction initially, if their routines and habits contradict each other. But I think once they got a routine down and understood each other's needs, they'd work very smoothly together.

Thanks for the ask! 😊

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

🌹💀Cold Heart🌹💀

A Ghost x Jade Modern Warfare II story

Prologue : Hard Time

Inspired by Hard Time by Seinabo

“So… how much for a small bouquet of roses, Miss?” A teenager dressed in high school uniform stood in front of the displayed red colored flower of love, belonging to the Le Jardin floristry in London. His hands were tightly situated inside his trouser’s pockets, clearly shaking.

Jade smiled at the sight. His height was the same as hers, though she probably had a good decade on him. Immaculate hairstyle, not a single fold visible on his clothes, and blushing so hard his face was about to turn as red as her hair. The florist knew that this young boy’s most likely about to declare his love for his crush. 

“A small bouquet would cost 15 quid, but for you, young lad,” she patted the boy’s shoulder softly, “12’s enough.” 

The boy chimed in joy, “That’s great! I’ll take one, please.” 

“I’ll wrap it up in white paper and plastic, tied with a ribbon for finishing. Does that work?” An aggressive nod from him made her smile ear to ear. “One bouquet coming right up!” Walking to the back of the shop to gather her best roses, Jade started to collect and the five roses in her hands, arranging the best flowers for the boy to confess with. 

As she focused the task at hand, a ringtone of her phone interrupted her work. It was a different tune than her regular one, which could only mean one thing. When she fished out her device from her pocket, Jade immediately pressed the green icon upon seeing the name on the screen. 

Putting the phone between her ear and shoulder, she continued her work, “Hi, Kate.” 

“Hey, Jade. Always so cheerful.”

Jade could hear the smile from the CIA’s voice. Laswell had been a friend since her black agent days; a mentor figure of hers, leading her through lots of missions and assignments throughout the globe. Both women admired each other, and learned from each other a lot. If not for their affiliations, they’re sure they’d work together more. 

“Been a long time since I heard your voice, Kate. What's up? Bit busy right now.” She said as her hands arranged the flowers in her palm.

“Sorry to disturb your work, but I need you.”

“Oh? Do you have a funeral? Wedding? Flower for your wife, perhaps? Are you visiting London? The weather sucks this time of year, though.”

“No. I need you, Jade.” Kate’s voice turned serious. 

The emphasis on her codename told her what she needed to know, causing her to sigh on the phone, “…Laswell. Verdansk was my last assignment. You know I don't do this anymore–”

“Major Hassan Zyani of Iran is in possession of an American missile. We don't know where he got it from, or where the target is. What we know is that we eliminated his superior General Ghorbrani six months ago, and we think he wants retaliation.”

Laswell, always to the point. All that information though, caught Jade’s attention while she took out the white papers and transparent plastic around the roses. “…Continue.”

“We tried to apprehend him in Al Mazrah where we found the first missile, but he escaped and is now in Las Almas. We need your help to track him down, find the other missile, and dig up his plans with it.” the CIA continued.

“Las Almas? City of Souls, huh.” Taking the hanging ribbon from the wall, the florist started to wrap it around the base of the bouquet.

“Yes. Once you’re there, you will be united with Colonel Alejandro Vargas from the Mexican Special Forces. He's a local, so you'll get a lot of help from him. Sending the picture and files to you.”

Jade pulled the phone from her shoulder, looking at the images of the said soldier. “Oh, hello there.” Mexican Special Forces sounded cool as heck in her ears. He looked charming, she’d give him that. “Give me a few hours. I need to prepare my gears and contact MI6.”

“No need. I already notified MI6. You're free to go. Your wheels up in 3 hours.”

“Oh?” 

“And one more thing. Ghost and Soap will join you.”

Jade halted her handiwork at the name drop. “...Ghost and Soap?” 

“Yes. I believe you've acquainted yourselves in Verdansk. They're the ones who found the missile in Al Mazrah. They'll see things through.”

“...Huh.” She couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her mouth. 

“Any issues?” Laswell questioned from the other side.

“Not at all, Kate.” Jade tied the red ribbon on the front of the bouquet with finality. “Not at all.”

As the Brit finished her work, she took her handiwork into her arms, picking the phone from her shoulders. “Okay. I’ll be there."

“Sorry to disturb you again, Jade, but we could really use your help.” Laswell tried to explain herself, “You know I wouldn’t reach you if this wasn't a matter of emergency.” 

“No problem at all, Kate. How can I ever say no to you, right? Oh Mrs. CIA.” A laugh from the other side made her chuckle. Tapping the red button on the phone, the florist put both of her palms on the table, staring at the roses she prepared.

Twenty years of service - she thought she’s done with this life, move on, live like a regular adult. Have a job, make a friend or two, get some food, have a family–

Well, she’s not lucky on that part yet, living basically all her life doing the dirty assignments and killing everyone MI6 saw as a threat, guilty or innocent. There was never any room for romance. She’s an adopted daughter of a couple MI6 retired black agents, whom she devoted her life to fill their shoes for. Now, all she wanted was a normal life, but of course, Laswell thought that her skills could do more good; keep the world safe, protect the people she loved, and that the world still needed her. 

Jade scoffed before standing back up. She still had a boy in the front of her shop, waiting to confess to his crush. Sometimes she envied the people who come to her shop. They came in with events they want to celebrate, be it birthdays. weddings, anniversaries, funerals...

Love confessions. 

She couldn’t help the smile on her face. “At least I can help the young lad.” And so, Jade walked to the frontside of the shop with the roses, finding the boy sitting on a chair, playing what seemed to be a mobile shooting game as his thumbs rapidly moved across the screen.

“Hey.” Jade called to him, making the boy flinch and close whatever game he’s playing. As he stood up, he saw the red and white bouquet on her hands, his eyes instantly glimmered with awe.

The woman stretched her arms to give her handiwork to him and fished out little colorful plastics containing sweets from the jar on the counter. “Here’s your bag of roses, and here’s some candy. Sugar will raise your confidence to the max. Good luck, Mate.” Jade said as she gave the bouquet and the candies to him.

“Thanks, Miss. I owe you lots.” The boy grinned. 

“You’ll do well. Cease the moment!” Raising her fist in the air in front of her, he responded with a fistbump, before giving her the money and ran out of the florist, ready for his love declaration.

Looking at the clock on the wall, there’s still a few hours left until the shop closes, but considering the situation at hand, she walked to the door and flipped the hanged tag from 'open' to 'closed'.

Now, contacting her parents. Jade sighed as she scrolled her contacts list to find her father's number, because she knew how her parents felt about this. They wouldn't take this news well.

After a few beeps on the line, he picked up the call.

“Pa, Ma.” 

“Hi, Lottie Dear! What’s up? Is the shop going well?” Her father, Eli's gentle yet stern voice rang through the phone.

“We’re just a few hours from London. Is something the matter, Love?” A feminine voice joined, which could only belong to her mother. 

The two had been out of London for the week to pick up flowers from their private fields in Norfolk. Twenty years in business after their retirement – or, rather disappearances – from MI6, they thought having their own fields of flowers would be a great investment. Having their own farmers and land, it helped them with the continuity of their business. 

Hearing their delightful voices, Jade's almost sorry to deliver them the news. “Yeah. Laswell called me again.”

The silence on the line told her that her parents were contemplating between themselves. Their daughter promised them that 2019 was her last mission. Now that the elder couple heard the CIA's name again, Jade needed to tell them what's going on.

"What's the situation?" Her father inquired, heaviness filling his voice.

“This Iranian Major has an American-made missile in his possession. He’s currently hiding in Las Almas. This’ll take probably a month or so.” Jade explained to her parents. “I won’t be alone, though. There are others with me this time. Wheels up in 3 hours.” 

"Who will be with you?" Again, her father asked. This protective side of his had been a major character of his, even though Jade wouldn't complain about it at all.

Jade huffed, "Mexican Special Forces, and two operators of SAS, the ones I met three years ago back in Verdansk. There might be more, but that's all I know so far. Laswell will tell me more once I've packed my bags."

Silence lingered on the line, save for the faint sound of the car they're driving at the moment on the background. Jade knew that her parents were conversing without speaking, a trait she knew all too well.

Her mother, Gracie, clicked her tongue, "Do you really have to go?" Jade could hear reluctance in her voice. "You said you were done, Verdansk was your last assignment - you promised us, remember?"

Jade closed her eyes as she looked down at her arms, peppered with old scars from her days as a black agent, days she wanted to leave behind. However, as she reflected upon her phone call with Laswell earlier, it actually didn't take much for the CIA agent to convince her about joining in on this mission.

"And I'm sure I don't have to remind you about what happened 12 years ago, in Cuba." Eli said to her.

Well.

There's that.

One of the worst assignments that Jade had to take, and how it changed her life. A mission that even Laswell have no knowledge about.

"...Does it have to be you, Lottie Dear?"

That sentence from her mother made her stomach churn. She's her mother after all.

Jade couldn't say anything to that, other than the fact that Laswell wouldn't contact her in the first place if she had any other better name in mind. She didn't know too much about the mission yet to determine why Laswell had to call her, and saying the CIA's name once more wouldn't ease her parents' concern at the moment.

"...Yeah." she only mumbled lowly.

Silence still lingered. Either they would allow this, or she's going to have to go against her parents' wishes.

"It's a long time ago, more than a decade, Pa. I'm okay now, and I won't be alone, remember?" Jade said as her last attempt at reasoning with her parents. "I have some very strong and capable people covering my back, so don't be too worried, okay?"

Jade thought she had to do the latter, until her father spoke, “Alright, Love. Have a safe trip." Hearing her father's confirmation, Jade looked up straight in surprise. "Take your gears, it’s in my armory. The key’s in uhh…”

“In your Pa’s study. Lowest drawer. Take everything you need, including the ‘persuasion’ kits too, if you ever find yourself needing it.” Her mother’s voice interrupted. “Sharpen your blades, loosen your muscles, be vigilant, Dear.”

“And don’t worry about the shop. We’ll do fine.” Her father assured. 

Jade scoffed at her parents’ voice. They’re the best parents she could ever ask for. “I know, Pa. Ma.” 

“Good. Be careful, Lottie. We love you.” 

“I love you both, too. See you.” After hanging up the call, Jade huffed in relief. Step one was completed. Now she didn't have to go to the mission carrying a heavy heart with her.

'Ghost and Soap will join you.'

Laswell’s voice lingered in her mind. She knew the latter is the youngest SAS personnel with exceptional abilities and potential, but the former, though? 

He's a handful.

When they first met in Verdansk, the skull-faced SAS lieutenant was the most foul-mouthed man she’s ever met. Cursed like there’s no tomorrow and underestimated her to the point that she got her nickname, Midget. She’s not even that short! Jade’s just average UK woman’s height! Offended to the bone, she got back at him by calling Ghost Beanpole, even though she must admit, his physique was the furthest thing from a beanpole, but she’s nowhere near midget either (again, even though he’s got a good 1 foot on her). 

Anyway, their meeting was unpleasant, as there were divisions and distrust amongst the Armistice in Verdansk. Their rivalries started, going from the fact that they both work alone, specialize in stealth, and seem to have a close personal relationship with their blades. Ghost and her had been an acquaintance and no more, save for the bastard-calling part. 

Don’t get her wrong, Ghost was certainly not someone you’d want as an enemy. He would’ve been a great ally to fight alongside with, if and only if he’s a little bit more agreeable to the people around him. Jade wondered what else Ghost, Soap, and the new Mexican ally had in store for her in this mission.

But that’s for the future to think about. For now, she’s got a flight to catch. 

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

There's the prologue for "Cold Heart"! This series will be updated kinda irregularly (I will try regularly tho. Probably around once a week/two week).

Hope you enjoyed that and stay tuned!

[wackybuddiemewbs]

Buddie Moodboard - Red, White & Royal Blue AU

So, guess who's been watching this movie adaptation way too often as of late? I'm taking the usual moodboard-y liberties, including mixing in some stuff from the book and the movie adaptation and keeping them at their ages from the show (and change their roles in society up as well...) Also, just imagining Oliver getting to speak with his actual accent lives in my head rent-free, as do many other things. But that's definitely up in the Top 10. Cheers!

Vice President Eddie Diaz could not be any more excited to attend the wedding of his friend Chimney and Princess Madeleine, Maddie for short. Well, he could be a bit happier, if Prince Evan, Maddie's brother, did not attend. He can't stand the guy ever since they met at a climate conference years ago. Eddie just doesn't have the patience to deal with entitled rich boys the likes of Prince Evan. After all, Prince Evan's only achievement in life seems to be to have a new girl every other week to have his picture on the front page of every tabloid there is.

While Eddie will insist that Prince Evan started this, he winds up having some part in what later spreads across social media as #cakegate. Which means the Vice President of the United States and the Prince of England are caught on camera, covered in cake, in Buckingham Palace, at a royal wedding.

Like winning re-election for President Robert "Bobby" Nash wasn't hard enough as it is. To relieve the situation, Eddie is stuck flying down to London for several photo ops to sell the story that him and Prince Evan are year-long friends. After all, alliances with Britain will be important, moving forward in Bobby's campaign.

Though the more time he's forced to spend with Prince Evan, the less he seems like the guy who was being such a jerk to him at that climate conference years ago. In fact, he seems like a genuinely good person. Who could have guessed?

While Eddie will insist that the prince enlisting MI6 to get his personal phone number, it does amuse him that Prince Evan seemingly wants to stay in touch. Over the next couple of months, the two wind up messaging each other almost daily. And to his even greater surprise, Eddie finds himself opening up to this man more than he's opened up to anyone ever since his wife passed away.

Prince Evan, or "Buck" as only friends get to call him, turns out to be anything but the persona portrayed by the Palace as well as the tabloids. Sure enough, he is a flirt, but a lot of his bravado covers up a rather insecure person who feels like the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders. Though the moment he is just with Eddie or Christopher, Buck seems perfectly at peace.

And strangely enough, Eddie does as well. After everything that's happened, he struggled trusting people with his son - and with himself. But with Buck, it's shockingly easy.

But things get complicated fast at the new year's party hosted at the White House. Because Eddie was not prepared for only just a second that Buck would end up kissing him.

And he did not expect to end up liking it.

Because he most definitely thought he was straight.

But after a few very awkward conversations with his friends, Eddie starts to realize that his actual sexual orientation may have been one of those other things he has since repressed. Who would have thought?

Buck is mortified at first, as he did not intend to confess his feelings for Eddie. But when they see each other again and Eddie kisses him back like that, Buck starts to believe that Eddie actually likes him back.

As both do not want a coming out just yet, considering their current situations as public figures, the two promise to keep things "casual". This arrangement works for a while, or so it would seem. Because it gets hard to stay "casual" when you start to care about someone so very deeply.

Buck makes some shocking discoveries surrounding his brother Daniel, which sheds a very different light on what he thought was his "destiny" and why his parents are acting that distantly towards him. To support Buck, Eddie invites him over to Los Angeles - where he normally lives, if not for his current political duties calling him to Washington. He wants to be there for Buck, and hopes that spending quality time with Christopher is going to get Buck out of his own head.

The plan proves to be a disaster, though. Buck spending a day "incognito" at the pier with Christopher results in both of them getting caught up in a tsunami. While both thankfully survive the natural disaster mostly unharmed, Buck is livid in the aftermath. He is convinced that he lost Christopher and thus failed him and Eddie.

Eddie draws very different conclusions after the event. After nearly losing both Christopher and Buck, Eddie is done being afraid of what other people - including his family - may think about him and his sexual orientation. He makes plans to bring Buck to Texas with him, to get to know his family, and to come out to them. And to make it clear that he is serious about wanting a relationship with Buck, as he has since fallen in love with him.

Just as Eddie is about to profess his feelings, Buck flees the scene and flies back to London. He refuses to talk to Eddie after that. But Eddie is not willing to give up just yet. So Eddie takes Christopher with him on his last-minute trip to London. Buck is in shock when he sees the two basically storming a castle to see him. Eddie confronts him about rushing off and ghosting him. Buck tries to act the part, but Eddie has since understood that Buck is just putting up a facade.

Buck eventually drops the act. More than anything, he wants to spend his life with Eddie and Christopher. He simply didn't dare to think that he could, given his role in life, and the fact that he still blames himself for what happened during the tsunami.

The two eventually reconcile, now sure of each other's true feelings for one another.

But just as they are about to get their lives back together and plan for a future together, chaos strikes when news start to spread about their relationship. Buck is yet again terrified, as the journalist running most of the stories is Taylor Kelly, an ex he thought he could trust in. And now it may cost Eddie his career, Bobby his re-election, Maddie's freedom away from the palace to find happiness with Chimney, and Buck the future he finally dared to fight for...

Find more moodboards here.

[cha-melodius]

DIRECTOR'S CUT QUESTION. Now, I am, of course, obsessed with 'Nova, Baby', and I know you're very into the spy genre. I would love to know literally any lore on that one, including how you decided on how and when they'd get together!

More Nova, Baby lore! Of course, I'd love to!

Ooh, how and when they'd get together. So I knew this was going to be a 'we're having casual sex, whoops it's not that casual' fic, which meant I needed to get them in bed together sooner than later. But I also love all the moments of tension before they've admitted that they want each other. My desire to cover a bunch of little vignettes to show these moments and their growing relationship lead to the format of chapter 2, the 5+1 that was "five moments when Alex should have realized something about himself, and one when he did," which would also provide the impetus for their first kiss. I got to jam in 'expressing your feelings in cooking before you even knows about them', 'losing it because you think your partner is dead', 'tender wound care', and 'kissing to distract', which are some of my absolute favorite tropes, plus some fun Nora and Pez scenes.

The first kiss -> ghosting -> Alex storming the castle MI6 -> casual sex arrangement was obviously inspired by canon, although the storming comes earlier in their relationship in part because they're already much closer after all those missions together. I knew they wouldn't deal with full feelings until almost the very end of the fic because I am a whore for confessions of love while one character is actively dying lmaooooo.

(Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut)

[amimochi]

Fellow Travelers Prompt Ideas

Anyone who knows me knows that I can't write at all so I just post all these imaginary fic ideas every day on my Twitter, figure I combine them here in case people want to read them (or write them *wink*) Enjoy!

Milan Post AU

Hawk got the promotion to Milan that he wanted and took Tim to live there with him. They go out to eat at restaurants, walk along the canal, and take a trip to Lake Como living their best aesthetic life.

Bonus Point: Tim is all love-struck with Hawk's fluent Italian skills while taking baby steps to learn Italian himself. Tim insists he wants to visit all the churches and Hawk just goes along with him even if he has 0 interest in church.

Time Travel AU

Hawk died miserably alone and thought to himself if he could re-do everything one more time. He then wakes up again in his young body, Manwha heroine style. It's 1954 and he just told Skippy he's going to marry Lucy Smith.

Skippy went to the army anyway and he couldn't save Sen.Smith. Hawk starting to doubt if he could evem make things right and then he start fixing his past mistake,cut off his engagement with Lucy. Save Lenny. After everything he sits down to write, write to his boy in the army.

At first, it was radio silence but after a year he got a letter back. Hawk confesses his feelings and they get together shortly after that. Hawk was able to use some future knowledge to keep his job after his engagement call-off scandal. Things were hard but they stuck together.

But since this is Hawk, things are bound to fuck up eventually. the fight in the late '60s tore them apart when Tim wanted to settle down in SF. Hawk knows full well what's gonna happen in SF in a few years, there's no way he will let Tim go there but how could he tell Tim that and they got in a big fight.

WWII Spy AU

Spy AU where Hawk is a CIA agent in Germany during WWII undercover as an SS officer there he met Tim who's an informant or secret agent for the MI6 undercover as an unsuspecting writing duty officer at the Nazi party headquarter.

Modern AU with BDSM

Hawk and Tim in a modern setting doing kink negotiation together before a scene. Hawk is a pro in the BDSM scene while Tim is a newbie. Tim is probably into spanking, and nipple play and Hawk is into bondage and orgasm control play. I can't decide who has praise kink but I think both of them???

Tim blushed prettily when he learned about Hawk feet worshipping thing but he's eager to learn like a good boy.

Happy Ending AU

Hawk fails the polygraph test and his life full of lies falls apart. Lost his job, lost Senator Smith's trust and Lucy ended things with him. He spirals down into deep depression (probably suicidal as well) but he's not alone as he still has Tim.

Tim was able to help him through and they slowly built a new life together, moving to San Francisco in the '60s An eventual happy ending in the 70s where they are holding hands in the first pride parade surrounded by friends.

[1domegaverseficfest]

Omegaverse Fic Fest Weekly Recap

Hello beautiful people! This second week has already passed, with another batch of five beautiful fics revealed. Go check them out if you haven't yet, and please enjoy!

I'm Sticking Around by @tommokat

The pompous alpha beside him huffs, breaking Louis' concentration on what feels like his future running towards him and suddenly the reality of the situation falls on him: Louis is romantically interested in Harry. Harry’s son is on Louis' soccer team. And while Harry’s son is on Louis’ soccer team, his romantic interest cannot be acted upon. Shit.

мое солнце by @houisminou

Harry has committed many crimes and sins, but when judgment day comes the first thing God will charge him for is touching his lost angel, his sweet Louis. But who can judge him? Louis would make any man fall for him, he has whoever he wants and he wanted Harry. When Harry laid hands on that body for the first time, he knew there would be no turning back, no matter the price he paid to God, now that omega was his private angel.

Nerd or (K)not by @super--noah

Harry had instantly fallen for Louis the first time the met. He was exactly Harry's type, nerdy looking with big glasses slipping down his nose. In truth Louis is a massive nerd and he's not ashamed to admit it, but that doesn't mean he can't stand up for himself or that he spends all his time with his nose in books. He only spends about half his time like that, the other half is spent playing football, not that anyone knows. Harry's friend Sammy tries to get with Louis at a party, but he turns her down, leading her to spread rumours about his abilities in bed and the size of his dick. Harry's friend group bully him relentlessly about this rumour. When Harry is bet that he can't stop sleeping around for a week otherwise he has to sleep with Louis it's all to much for Harry. He confesses to Louis, leading them to a deeper understanding of who they are to each other. It turns out Harry's friends are terrible people and that having sex with Louis is far from a punishment.

Little Love by @sunflouervol-6

Written for the Omegaverse fic fest for prompt: 205. L & H are FBI/CIA/MI6/whatever agents and best friends. L goes on a mission without H (they’re partners, so they usually go together) and he doesn’t return. 2 yrs later he returns to the agency after escaping from wherever he was (maybe he was kidnapped, experimented on, etc., can be up to the author!). H tries to get L to talk about why he was gone/what he went through, but L isn’t ready. They continue to go on missions, but L is falling apart. Maybe he’s having nightmares, flashbacks, etc. Whoever held L captive ends up finding him again and takes him back. He either escapes again or H finds him. The author can obviously add stuff! This is more like an outline, maybe? Preferably omega L & alpha H, but ultimately up to author. Would love to see the other boys in it too, but that’s up to the author as well! [possesive & jealous h, sassy & tough l] L can be feminized, but preferably not too much.

The Cottage by @holdingontochaos

Louis hates alphas and he has good reason to, but when his beloved omega grandmother dies, and he inherits her cottage, he meets Harry, an alpha hazelnut farmer who sneaks his way into Louis’ life. While Louis struggles with his severe touch deprivation, he forms a friendship with Harry that turns out to be exactly what he needed. -- Or Louis has severe touch deprivation and Harry has a hazelnut farm.

[scotianostra]

John Cairncross WWII intelligence officer and Soviet spy was born on 27th July 1913 in Lesmahagow, Lanarkshire.

Cairncross was highly educated, attending Glasgow University and obtaining degrees in French and German at the Sorbonne in France before entering Cambridge University on scholarship to study modern languages.

Was introduced to Anthony Blunt and Guy Burgess and soon became a Communist working with the Cambridge Spy Ring. Monitored by Soviet agent Samuel Cahan, he received a short course in espionage tactics before taking the Home Office and Foreign Office exams, receiving the highest scores on both.

Was assigned to the Foreign Office in 1936 where he worked briefly with Donald Maclean. Served as Served briefly as the personal secretary to Lord Maurice Hankey who oversaw Intelligence services in Britain. Moved on to the Bletchley Code and Cipher School. In the course of his job he passed intercepted messages and other classified information to his Soviet handler. He often delivered cases full of intercepted German messages int he back seat of his car which he drove to the Soviet embassy.

During World War II, worked for MI6 in its London headquarters. Smuggled plans for postwar Yugoslavia to the Soviets. After World War II, continued to pass information to Soviet agents, including Kim Philby, Donald Maclean and Guy Burgess.

In 1951, sensitive documents in Cairncross’ handwriting were found in Burgess apartment after Burgess and Maclean fled to Russia. He was thus fired from his position in the British Treasury department, although he denied being a spy. He turned to scholarly activities and humanitarian efforts for the United Nations.

In 1964, Sir Anthony Blunt confessed to being a Soviet spy and in return for leniency identified Cairncross as another Soviet agent. When confronted with the evidence, Cairncross admitted to his espionage, explaining that he had not spied for several years, saying that he spied only during World War II, when Russia was a British ally.

Soviet defectors later disputed Cairncross statements about his limited involvement in espionage. They claimed that he had turned over countless reams of information.

Fearful of negative publicity and scandal, the British government hushed up his activities, declining to prosecute him for espionage or to expose him to the public. Cairncross, in fact, remained for a time in his job as with the United Nations Food and Agricultural Organization.

Cairncross was exposed in 1981 by Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. He continued his life in exile until 1995 when he moved to Britain and married American opera singer Gayle Brinkerhoff. Later that year he died after suffering a stroke.

[joelslegalwhre]

hi and welcome to my masterlist💜 this is a safe space, my dms are always wide open if you need anything!

follow @joelslegalwhrereads if you want fic updates (my ao3)

have a look at my wip's to see what I'm (hopefully) working on

Em's fic recs list (not updated) with some more amazing works! And my tbr shelf!

I use warnings for every post, you’re responsible for your own media consumption!

⇢ ❀main masterlist❀

❥ Joel Miller

In His Arms "masterlist" [no outbreak!Joel x f!reader] (fem!reader)

Joel&Ellie edit (1k celebration) Joel&Ellie edit (shortened tiktok) Wonderland (Joel&Ellie edit) (tiktok) (it's muted now, rip) (we're back babyyy) Wonderland (Joel&Ellie edit) (tumblr)

❥ Dieter Bravo

"Stop flirting." "Then stop teasing." (fem!reader) (f,m) [2k] summary: You're interviewing Dieter for his new movie, and no matter how many years you've been together - recently married too - he loves to flirt with you like the first time you've met.

Met Gala (fem!reader) (f) [drabble] summary: You're a photographer at the met gala. And Dieter's girlfriend.

Valentine’s Day [Dad!Dieter] (fem!reader) (f) [1.2k] summary: Dieter and your kids surprise you for Valentines day but you also have one for Dieter he didn't expect.

❥ Din Djarin

My Riduur (fem!reader) (f) [1.6k] summary: Mando didn't like it at all that some boy thought he could get close to his wife. He couldn't show with actions that you were his, the helmet prevented that, but he had his own way to show it.

❥ Javi Gutierrez ❥ Tim Rockford ❥ Javier Peña ❥ Frankie Morales ❥ Max Phillips ❥ Tim Rockford ❥ Dave York ❥ Ezra

❥ Charlie Young

❥ Tyler Owens

TikTok "Watching it for the plot"🌪️

❥ Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Drunk confessions (f!bradshaw!reader) (f) [2.06k] summary: You’ve had enough of hiding your relationship with Jake, so you drink yourself a little courage and just screw it.

❥ Ben

And now, welcome to the old works!

Some of them are really old and grey (aka four or five years old when I originally posted them), you've been warned lmao

This is everything from Henry Cavill Characters to F1 to Ryan Reynold Characters.

If you'd like more of the F1 fics, take a look at my old wattpad book, it has around 80 fics, but I'm not writing any real person fics anymore.

⇢ ❀old fic masterlist❀

❥ The Witcher

I can help (fem!reader) (f, m) [1.3k]

Destiny (fem!reader) (f, m) [1.5k]

Her sweet kiss (fem!reader) (light a) [3.2k]

❥ August Walker (mi6)

Stay with me okay? (gn!reader) (a) [570+]

You’re welcome, Gruffi (fem!reader) (f) [530+]

Softy on the inside (fem!mom!reader) (f) [1.1k]

❥ Henry Cavill

And just like that (fem!reader) (f) [1.8k]

Just us (fem!reader) (f) [2.2k]

❥ Frank Adler

Little piece of bliss (ofc) (f) [970+]

❥ Adam Reed (adult)

Look how cool this is (pregnant!fem!reader) (f) [1.2k]

❥ Nolan Booth

Coming home (fem!reader) (f) [420+]

❥ Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Moodboard

Moodboard (og top gun)

❥ James Aubrey

Confesions  (f!reader) [900+]

files and surprises  (f!reader) [461]

❥ Lance Sweets

 I‘m here  (reader) [750]

❥ Formula 1 (I no longer do real person fics)

au-boyfriend!f1driver (pinterest boards)

Temper (m.v.) (gn!reader) (f, a?) [1.3k]

We love you too, Mommy (l.n.) (fem!reader) (f) [780+]

I’ll be right by your side (l.n.) (fem!reader) (f, a) [600+]

Baby close the door (l.n.) (fem!reader) (f) [590+]

Surpriseee. Smile! (l.n.) (gn!reader) (f) [450+]

I told them to (d.r.) (gn!reader) (f) [910+]

On the other end of the world (d.r.) (fem!reader) (f) [2.3k]

Baby pictures (l.s.) (fem!reader) (f) [1k]

In great demand (m.s.) (fem!reader) (f) [1.6k]

World Champion (m.v.) (driver!f!reader) (f) [2k]

⇢ mini series “paddock pass”

Paddock Pass pt.1 (m.v.) (fem!reader) (a, f) [1.6k]

Paddock Pass pt.2 (m.v.) (fem!reader) (a, f) [2.8k]

Paddock Pass pt.3 (m.v.) (fem!reader) (a, f) [3.1k]

❥ Bucky Barnes

I love you (gn!reader) (f) [380]

⁀➷ 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

key: ❥ fluff (f) ❥ angst (a) ❥ smut (nsfw) ❥ mature (m) [making out, blood/injuries, etc.] ❥ word count […]

[thetimetravellercat]

So, this was supposed to be a 'short' idea, and instead it turned into a fully fledged story I'm quite proud of and that I really loved writing; I can only hope you will like it as much as I did 💚

Tags: Crossover, Fake/Pretend Relationship, oops everybody's got feelings, Eventual Polyamory, Polyamory, Trans Male Character, Trans Israel Hands, Schadenfreude, as a treat, Light Angst, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Banter, Implied/Referenced Sex, Finding your home, Finding Your Family, Fluff, Happy Ending

Summary:

Q has tried short of everything to get Bond to stop running away from his feelings for him.

Desperate, running out of options and not wanting to give up and have regrets for the rest of his life, Q enlists the help of one Izzy Hands, top mechanic of the MI6 and recently divorced from Ed Teach, a 00 spy who cheated on him with a target, the rich Stede Bonnet, and who had the audacity to invite him to his wedding to Bonnet on top of it.

Their goals are simple: Q hopes to make Bond jealous enough that he will face his feelings and confess his love to him, Izzy wants to show his ex he can be more than happy without him and piss him off in the process.

But what happens when it all becomes a little more than they can chew and feelings get involved?

A story about three men finding love together.

No particular knowledge of either show is really necessary to be able to enjoy this.

[nando161mando]

"'The day before Britain and its World War Two allies remembered the D-Day landings the BBC broadcast a 25 minute documentary on the rise of fascism in Italy today, including shocking images of marching neo-fascists in their hundreds.

The documentary also included an interview with self-confessed fascist Roberto Fiore. That interview could have brought up Fiore’s past links with UK neo-fascists and how they set up some very dubious businesses. Or it could have mentioned Fiore’s conviction for an attack on the offices of the Italian trade union confederation, for which he received a jail term. Or when he fled to the UK in the aftermath of the Bologna railway station bombing, why he was offered MI6 protection.

The BBC failed to ask about any of these matters ...'" via @slackbastard

[myulalie]

I am proud to say that this year, I noticed the deadline for the @alexriderbingo! I was able to cross 4 squares, although none of the completed works led to a proper bingo. Doesn't matter, I had a lot of fun writing these! Thank you so much for running this event and without further ado, here is the masterpost:

The Perfect Lover

Yalex, Teen, 11k1

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Bounty Hunters, Missions Gone Wrong, Adult Alex Rider, Older Man/Younger Man, Canon-Typical Violence, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Pining, Language of Flowers

Alex turned eighteen and, coincidentally, his vest on MI6. So of course, he picks up a job as a bounty hunter.

Square: Restraints

An Unexpected Passenger

Yalex, Teen, 5k4

Tags: Alternate Universe - Mutants, First Meetings, Sick Character, Dehydration, Captivity, Human Trafficking, Canon-Typical Violence, Boats and Ships, Bathing/Washing, Touch-Starved, Geographical Isolation, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Mermaid Alex Rider

Yassen glances at Alex then, wide blown eyes, dry lips and windswept blonde hair, their encounter a secret for the salt water to keep. For Alex, Yassen will risk it all.

Square: Sick fic

Emergency Gateway

Yalex, Teen, 4k2

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Veterinary Clinic, Hurt/Comfort, Painkillers, Alex Rider Needs a Hug, Protective Yassen Gregorovich, MI6 Bashing (Alex Rider), Angst with a Happy Ending

Alex notices a veterinary clinic not far from home and takes to sneaking in to patch himself up when his missions go wrong (which is to say, on a regular basis). It’s only a matter of time before someone catches him though… unless the mysterious vet with a scar on his cheek agrees not to report Alex to the local authorities.

Square: Drunken Confession

A Little Piece of Cornwall

Yalex, Teen, 4k6

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Adult Alex Rider, Yassen Gregorovich Lives, Older Man/Younger Man, Chronic Pain, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Helicopters, First Dates

Alex left the service in his twenties with only chronic pains and a shitload of trauma to his name, convinced that all the people he had known and come to care for were dead. Not quite retired, but definitely working somewhere unrelated to intelligence now, he struggles to put his life back on track. A ghost from his past shows up one day, threatening to destroy everything Alex built so far. So Alex keeps Yassen at arm’s length, not willing to get involved in whatever nefarious purpose that brought Yassen back from the dead. Everything is not as it seems though, and Yassen might simply be trying to build a normal life for himself as well…

Square: "Am I going to die?"

[dhampir72]

For the WIP ask game, the after midnight series pretty please👀

Yay!! Someone asked about After Midnight! I have so many stories I want to tell in this universe! But the three I'm working on are Covenant, Fidelity, and Taken. They will be published in this order.

Originally Covenant and Fidelity were in the same fic, but it got really long, so I've separated them...

Covenant: A short fic where Q and Bond have to sign some paperwork for MI6's ethics committee.

Fidelity: Alec Trevelyan returns from a long assignment and he is not happy when he meets his new Quartermaster. In this one, Alec's family descends from a long line of werewolves that were engaged in hunting vampires, so he doesn't have a lot of love for them. And Alec can tell that there's something not quite natural about Q... So when he finds out that Bond and Q are together, Alec tries to convince Bond to leave Q. Bond, of course, refuses. It's really more a story about Bond and Alec's friendship than anything else, but this story does reveal a little more about Q's backstory ;)

Taken: Bond gets captured on a mission. Q goes to retrieve him. This story goes a little harder than all of the others, because Q takes absolutely no prisoners on this mission. But the softness returns at the end!

I'll put a little snippet from "Fidelity" under the cut. I hope you enjoy! And thank you so much for the ask <3 I love this series so much and really enjoy any opportunity to talk about it xD

When Alec looks at Q, he does something Bond has never seen him do. 

He flinches. 

It’s minute, but Bond notices, and Q does too. He puts down the tablet he’s holding and looks at Alec. 

“What are you?” 

Alec’s voice comes quietly, not at all like his boisterous self. It’s something only the three of them can hear. What’s surprising is that there’s a tremble to it. Bond has never known him to be afraid. 

“What are you?” Alec asks, a little louder this time. 

So it’s not fear, it’s anger. His eyes are blazing, like heated copper. He points at Q. 

“You…you’re an abomination..."

“Alec–"

“James. How can you stand next to…that thing?”

It's Q's turn to flinch. The amount of vitriol in Alec's voice is sharp enough to cut.

“Alec,” Bond says, and it comes out hard, warning.

But Alec doesn’t seem to hear. His eyes are blazing. Behind him, Bond sees that the room is clearing out, the techs looking concerned that there might be blood if they don’t get out of the way. 

“I don’t know exactly what you are, but you’re not natural, are you? Not a real vampire,” Alec says, and sniffs the air. “Some kind of mutation? Something that should have never been made. Something that should have been destroyed long ago.” 

Alec unsheathes the knife at his belt. It’s edged in silver. Enough to hurt a werewolf, and a vampire too, but Q doesn’t move away. 

“Confess, creature! What are you? Strzyga? Upior?” Alec asks, and then his eyes narrow. “Bruxa?”

[hammerbacks]

wip wednesday:

part of a warm water 'verse fic, where james can't quite get his head around the very obvious reason why he's suddenly gone off honeytrap assignments. @mi6-cafe

He’s also beginning to wonder if this is M’s cruel way of testing him. It’s ridiculous to assume that his boss doesn’t know that he’s spending a lot of his evenings at home in bed with someone – he’s been chastised for this frequently, way before he met Kate – so James wouldn’t put it past him to have somehow found out that he’s been fucking the Prime Minister’s young, blonde Treasury Private Secretary for quite a while now. That could come from any one of M’s variety of sources: Tanner, perhaps (since he’s the only one James has confided in about this), or one of the network of agents whose sole purpose is to know every inch of the Double Os’ movements when they’re at home, so that they can be summoned in any emergency. Come to think of it, they probably know Kate’s phone number off by heart like he does – only with the intention of using it in one of the select few scenarios that requires the in-depth confession he dreads, where he admits to her what he really gets up to on those secretive meetings abroad. 

Still, he isn’t entirely sure if the reason for this feeling that’s slowly been crawling through him is that he’s just getting too long in the tooth for all of this. He meant every word of what he said to Saunders in the car during the botched attempt at getting Koskov out of Bratislava, and he’s lost count of the amount of times he’s questioned M’s decision to have him back at MI6 after he ensured that Sanchez was stopped for good. 

The dull moments in his job often outweigh the temporary thrills – he’s been aware of that since the moment he accepted the role as a Double O – but could he finally be beginning to seriously consider giving it all up? 

The only snag is that he hasn’t got a clue what he’d do outside of this. There’s always the possibility of going back to the Navy, though that would still involve being away from home for months at a time, with nothing but the sea and his crew for company. The Civil Service has always been the go-to for retired agents, but it’s no use for someone like him who has minimal tolerance for spending hours upon end in an office every single day, forcing himself to smile through gritted teeth at the self-righteousness of politicians who think that because an idea has gone down well at their club, it’s a guaranteed winner with the public and will also guarantee them a promotion in the next Cabinet reshuffle. 

He’ll have to put up with this for a while longer.