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disneyvoguemagazine · 2 years

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#DisneyUnclassified

Ciara reveals classified documents cataloging her exponential time training hourly sessions with martial arts masters (Feu Long, Foxxy Pamela Gurier, Shaft, Stick, Sinister, Sean Combs, RoboCop, Rocky, A Team, The Million Dollar Man, Bruce Lee Students, Master Gen, 3600 hours spent of her life training as a Psychic soldier for the Mickey Mouse Club and the documents found exposing the worm tunnel she traveled through to participate in Mortal Kombat with otherworldly beings, under the allies 'Blade\Sonya' the footage captured via 'sidekick-TMobile' device, documents her termultuious journey dawning the power of the pink ranger zord stored data imprint on the sidekicks sim card and as one of the magic kingdoms most expériences archiologist has rastered 'The Power', the first trials of this Ranger sirum has been distributed amoung the groups @Loona @Kard @MissA ,

Infused with @SpaceX #Cybertron Autobot technology allows the ranger techs back at mission control access to the data collected from the hardware of the new suits.

I.U -Frostlass

Chris Crocker-Slyveon

Beauty Marsh- Chanel (Spriggattio)

Dragonair- Seulgi

Gardvoir- Ariana Grande

B.B Kiddo - Grimes

Ponyta - Bonnie McKee

Wigglytuff - Lindsay Lohan

Espeon -WillowSmith

Ladyian - Flora G

Jynx - Chlöe Bailey

Seaking-Lizzo

Ampheros - Miley Cyrus

Frilish-Noah Cyrus

Mew -Shannon Williams

Meloeta- Kim Petras

Rihanna-Starmie

Aubery Peoples- Muk

MeganJetteMartin-Gloom

DemiLovato-Grimer

IceSpice- Swana

Bambi - Sawsbuck

Altaria- CardiB

DelKatty- Nicki Minaj

Unknown- BTS

Eevee- Nayeon

Ashley Tisdale -Ratata

JeffreeStar-Mother of Frost lass / YakYakk (cellphone conversation cameo)

BritneySpears cameo [ As Béatrix Kiddo of the KillBillSaga mother of BBKiddo leader of the eSports International Champion Team #SamuraiSkirts

with @Zendaya as Nakia Belle daughter of Copperhead of Bills four assets played by Vivica A Fox; Uma Thurman (played by Britney Spears in the Samurai Skirts Films. Synopsis: When B.B Kiddo "Claire B. Aka Grimes" takes her eSports team to the Olympic winter games, the steaks become mortal when her team dawn's the legendary Hattori Hanzo blades after a being named 'Aura' hacks the games code and recreates the events of the popular series Sword Art Online. )

Starring JeannieKim Chanel as The Firth Child Angel EVA unit 05 LaBlanc The black Rose

. In the end the Skirtz win the Gold medal and the facade covering the event is later exposed as the game company's chairs and executives are made a mockery in the industry for their mal practices in their business ethics when the company's abuse of female gaming icons and influencers pops the gaming giants legacy and ruins their flawless reputation when B.B leaks the security footage of the company using the girl gamers as sex slaves and toys for the male dominated gaming industry. When the truth comes to light showing one of the most epic games in history covered for a real operations intelligence interception mission the world watched live as what appeared to be just am online game turned out to be the government's biggest intelligence war in real life.

All of these events converging with GameFreaks Trainee Project 'Trainer Lass' Space X secret splicing program testing engineered spliced genetically enhanced cultures giving the subjects pokemon like essences and advanced traits or above average apptitude s

I.U loop artist details her account as the groups leader or 'Big Sister' the pokè-docustreamentary converges with the groups member 'X Jet / XSR BlackBird 'portrayed by Claire B aka Grimes' her competing for the few positions for the girl group trainer LASS, pokemon company's first ever live music dance reality pop girl band, their experience at Coachella with Marvels Runaways band and working with Minnie Mouse as the events around Hugh Jackmen announcing his involvement for #Deadpool3 as the movies cast were filming around the events that will influence the Kingdom Hearts Movie. With the Mouse Queers proving to the world the magic that was unfolding into the real world has made the fantasy of a magic world living truth tofay.

#Samurai Skirts #grimes music #zendaya #chris crocker #flora G #Britney Spears #IU #Nayeon #Jennie Chanel #blackpink jennie #D #emiLovato #Ariana Grande

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whitepolaris · 2 years

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The Cursed Devil’s Gate Reservoir

This dry, brush-filled flood channel in Pasadena is the scene of some strange and possibly diabolical events. The chilling story begins when two young victims, still unaccounted for, disappeared here in the rough terrain of the San Gabriel Mountains under circumstances that defy explanation.

On March 23, 1957, eight-year-old Tommy Bowman was hiking on a trail above Devil’s Gate with his family when he ran a few yards ahead of the others, rounded a corner . . . and disappeared.

Tommy’s family searched the brush and repeatedly called his name to no avail. Soon a four-hundred-member search party was sent out, complete with helicopters, mounted patrols, bloodhounds, and professional wilderness trackers. After they scoured the entire area for a week, hacking through chaparral, and delving crevices and holes just off the trail, the search was called off. Rumors of kidnappers and child molesters were thoroughly investigated, and discounted. Tommy’s disappearance has never been explained and solved.

Another child followed Tommy into oblivion just three years later. Six-year-old Bruce Kremen was on a hike with his YMCA group not far from where Tommy Bowman vanished when he began to tire and fell behind the others. Thinking the boy was winded by exercise and the high altitude, the group leader told Bruce to return to the camp-in plain sight just three hundred yards away-and rest. The adult leader then watched Bruce walk the length of the wide, marked trail. When the boy was just yards away from camp, the man rejoined the other children.

But something got Bruce Kremen in those few steps between the trailhead and the camp. He never made it back and was never seen again.

Again a massive search party tore the region apart. Again there was no evidence of kidnapping or molestation. And again the San Gabriels claimed a young victim, leaving no clues, no suspects, no remains-and no solution to the case to this day.

The eerie disappearances of Tommy Bowman and Bruce Kremen lead some people to speculate that a curse or jinx hung over Devil’s Gate Reservoir. Much of this speculation centered on the activities of one John Whiteside (Jack) Parsons, co-founder of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory and a resident of nearby Pasadena.

Parsons, a brilliant, self-taught rocket scientist whom Werner von Braun called the true founder of the American space program, was also first-rank occultist. A devotee of Aleister Crowley’s teachings, Parsons joined the infamous English occultist’s Ordo Templi Orientis society in 1941, quickly taking over the group’s Agape Lodge in Los Angeles.

Parson’s mansion on South Orange Grove Avenue in Pasadena became the center of southern California’s occult bohemia in the 1940s and was for a while the home of ex-Hubbard. Parsons saw Hubbard, the future of Scientology, as a natural magician and worked with him in a series of strange rituals designed to create a “moonchild”-a sort of anti-Messiah who would overthrow Judeo-Christian civilization and lead earth into a new eon.

The rituals, which took place in the southern California outback in the late 1946, were said to have opened a portal to another dimension that’s since been a point of entry for all sorts of strange entities. Some occult authors have hinted that the portal is in the Devil’s Gate region and that the negative energies and beings that pass through it are responsible for the mysterious disappearances of the unsuspecting children.

It’s as good an explanation as any for these tragic, tantalizing event and enigmas.

#weird california #type read

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sombrasdatabase · 5 years

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Pride Month Piece

I decided to do a Angel Jet Hack piece for this month. It took all day, but I'm happy with it. They're all bisexual in this, and Fareeha is a trans man for my partner who is also trans and loves Fareeha and this OT3. I gave him a braid to show off the golden beads. Anyway I hope you like it.

#sombra overwatch #pharah overwatch #olivia colomar #sombra x pharah #angela ziegler #pharbra #sompharah #pharmercy #somercy #angel jet hack #ot3 #pride month #trans pharah #bi sombra #bi mercy

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forget-me · 2 years

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Through sickness and in health.

You coughed as you went back to your home, you've haven't been feeling well all day as you worked. Even food made you nauseous, the smell alone made you want to gag.

You didn't feel the energy to even be at your computer, just wanted to lay down for as long as possible.

You wished you were well enough to call Micah but you just didn't have it in you today.

*ding*

A notification "from Micah: How was your day angel?"

You reached as you considered even texting him back at the moment. You did really miss him, it's been over a month since his first vist. It's a weird space at this moment as you two aren't REALLY dating but you were exclusive. I was waiting to still feel the air, everyday I grow more and more sure of him. Of Micah being a great boyfriend.

"Hey! Yeah my day just ended, but I don't feel well atm. :<"

"Oh. What's wrong my angel????? Did you take the day off??"

You did not, you thought you would feel much better as the day went on but alas you pushed yourself through another shift.

It was worse than usual, maybe you should have taken the day off.

"naurrrr, I thought I would feel better but ofc that didn't happen >:["

"Awe angel you need to take care of yourself, or I'll do it for you ;)"

"Don't even say that I could be doing better but I'll just make the most of it"

"That's is nope I'm omw"

Omg no he isn't

"BE READDDYYY"

Holy shit this guy-

*ding*

"BTW I also ordered you soup until I get there. Taking a private jet to get there sooner"

What the actual fuck.

This guy gets a private jet so he can get to you, because you are sick.

I hate Micah, I hate him so much. If you could hack a plane you would just so he didn't spend any more money than he needed too.

-------

It's gotten worse, it's so much worse than it needed to be. You couldn't really breath out your nose as it was too stuffy, no matter how many times you blow your nose into tissues your mouth is the only oxygen you are getting for now.

You head is pounding. It feels like bricks are constantly being smacked against your forehead. No medication you took has kicked in or maybe it's just not helping, the soup arrived but you didn't even have the strength to eat it.

It sits on your night stand as it gets colder.

You sit in front of your TV with the brightness down to distract your self somehow. It's been over 4 hours and you just waiting for Micah to get here, I hate how he flew to me for this, but you loved that he was gonna be at least in the same room as you. To see him would be enough to make you less miserable.

You missed him. You hate how you miss him. You miss him so much so begin to cry a little into your plushie, a mix of emotions rise up.

Was it because you were sick? Or maybe everything just hit you like a truck.

You wanted to be with Micah every day, to hang out with him in person. To come home to Micah after work. That would be enough.

"knock, knock~"

You jolt your head up as you jump out of bed to get the door.

As you whip it open you lose your balance, triping on your own two feet.

Micah caught you with I his arms,

"wooahhh ok ok settle down angel-"

You feel his warmth as you bring his closer into a hug, it was so safe and comfortable. He was here with you, YOU of all people. You were so happy he was there. Deep down you always wanted him here next to you. You bury your face into his chest and cry. More like a sob if anyone heard it, you hear his heart beat as it speeds up.

He wraps his arms around you and rubs your back in a comforting manner. You let tears fall as he places his chin at the crown of your head.

After your crying stopped he came in as he laid you back into your bed.

"I missed you. More than I say" you whisper, it was hard to communicate what the feeling was.

"I missed you too angel."

"You came all this way for me?"

"Anything for you, I would have hiked here if you needed me"

He put his hand on your cheek. You snuggled into as you placed your hand over his to keep it there. His hands were warm, a save heaven. A fire on a snowy day.

"I bought you some of my own homemade soup! Glad I did"

He gestured to the cold soup on the night stand. Micah continued.

"I also brought some meds of my own, thus should keep the stuffy nose away. This one does wonders for head aches, oh and this one is to help you sleep."

You look at your phone for the time.

"ONE AM?!?!?"

"Sshhhhh, angel please don't stress your self, I'm so sorry it took me so long to get here but I won't leave until you are better than ever."

"..your gonna stay?"

"Yes, well as long as you want me here." He kisses your hand.

"..stay..stay forever"

Micah is frozen, he stares aimlessly at you. Uh oh, you said the wrong thing. It just slipped out. You weren't really thinking about what you were saying.

Oh no, he thinks your weird. You sat up quickly.

"Ahaha never mind for get it, I didn't mean it just, omg I'm so sorry I wasn't thinking-"

"Ok angel"

"What"

you stopped, your heart dropped. What did he mean "ok"?

"I'll stay, forever." He was kneeled down beside the bed, still holding the hand he kissed, which so happened to be your left hand.

"I waaassss gonna give you this a later but I think you should have it now"

He fumbled to get inside his jacket pocket. He pulled out a blue velvet box.

"What-"

"Hey hey-" Micah started." You don't have to accept this right now but it feels right to give this to you know angel"

He opened the box. It was the cutest ring. It was angel themed with Two wings connecting the band together. Your nickname he gave you.

"This is a promise ring, sadly not an engaging ring but this will hold its place until I get one, you don't have to say yes to marriage yet. BUT it would be you saying yes to me, to me being your boyfriend. It would be you saying yes to us."

"Micah..."

You were speechless, you just stared at him. Signaling him to finish.

"So, I humble ask you my leige, will you be my partner? Through sickness and in health." We winked, you laughed as you nodded.

"Yes, god I hate you." You say through a laugh, you loved the way the ring looked on your ring finger.

"Its a lovely place holder, thank you." you lovingly say.

"I saw it and knew you just had to have it."

"Thank you Micah Yujin. "

"Of course angel, the world for you" as he kissed your hand once more.

#error143 #fanfic #micah yujin #dating sim #visual novel

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hazelcallahan · 7 years

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holy fuck those sombra buffs

#like the only thing that could be considered a nerf in her 'adjustment' is the hacked health packs not giving ult charge #but like.... the reduced emp blocking? the faster hack times? reduced smg spread? THE SHIT HER HACK DOES NOW???????#IT DISABLES WALL CLIMBS AND PHARAHS JETS AND LUCIOS HEALS AND WALLRIDES AND MERCYS ANGELIC DESCENT WHAT THE SHIIIIIIIT

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tinyyoungblood · 3 years

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hi!! idk if i can request but imma do it anyway: headcanons for the reader going on her first solo mission and the whole team (esp her bf Peter) is like worried and constantly checking in and she’s like “bro chill”

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

a/n: i couldn’t decide which ask to do first so i rolled a dice to decide for me lol nothing better than enjoying a headcanon with a flair of random. next time i’m going to consult an oracle. enjoy x

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

y/n’s first solo mission

it’s y/n’s first time going on a mission by herself and the avengers are having a communal panic attack

bucky is really anxious for her but would never admit it so he uses every chance he gets to sneak in some extra training

y/n tries to go to the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice and bucky slams the fridge door while giving her the Stare™

“…what are you doing” “i need you to hit the floor, army crawl, hang on right, and then you can get some juice”

peter thinks bucky’s method is Efficient and Effective and adapts it as well

he shows y/n all kinds of moves, completely neglecting the fact that her fighting style is Stab Stab Boink

whereas his fighting style is gymnast with olympic gold spends friday night in bouncy castle

peter gets frustrated because y/n doesn’t take the somersaults as seriously as she should

“y/n i need you to focus!! this is important!!!!” “to do what? back flip over the enemy?” *scoffs* “yes” *back flips away*

rhodey gives her a list of things to do in case of emergencies and it’s long. it’s literally the apple terms of service agreement

steve has done about a hundred briefings already but y/n still wakes up in the middle of the night to peter screaming bloody murder next to her

it’s bc steve is standing in the middle of the room with a whiteboard and a 20 slides presentation

y/n just walks up to him, grabs the cap of his markers and throws it out the window, leaving his markers to dry out

steve looks at her in disbelief and deadpans, “some people just want to see the world burn”

the day y/n leaves, bruce shows up with knee pads and a helmet that both look like he got them from the kids’ section

he’s just standing there like “pLs don’t hand in your two weeks’ notice, i’m doing this in the name of LOVE”🧍‍♂‍

tony stumbles into the room with sam and bucky in tow and it’s clear that tony is slightly tipsy when he crushes y/n into a big bear hug

y/n, whispering: “what did you two do?”

sam: “saved your reputation. he wanted to turn you into a bubble wrap burrito”

wanda hugs y/n and makes her promise to stay safe while vision smuggles first aid kits into the jet, easter-egg-style

thor approaches y/n next and he awkwardly hands her a brown bag that contains popsicles and a small ribboned box with a green glitter bracelet in it

the note says, “so you remember me when you die. -loki”

y/n’s heart MELTS

the mission itself isn’t even dangerous and it’s honestly easily done if it weren’t for the 300 people talking in her comm

peter keeps checking in on her and blurts out compliments like being a motivational speaker is his life mission

the compliments just keep getting increasingly weirder bc he’s running out of things to say

“woah angel don’t think i didn’t see that little hop you just did there! magnificent technique!! OUTSTANDING!!!”

y/n turns off her comm but peter simply switches to texting. she blocks him

steve keeps sending her very obscure and oddly specific facts about ducks in an attempt to make y/n respond

she blocks him as well and buys a duck plushie on amazon

y/n is strapped in a harness, being the quietest she’s ever been, when tony hacks into her suit and BLASTS mission impossible through her comm

it proves itself successful tho bc y/n turns on her comm and cusses him out

(the team is relieved)

nat and clint are hiding in the vents and spying on her

they think they’re being slick considering they’re professional Totally Spies™ but y/n knows and now she’s being intentionally careless to irritate them

y/n’s casually strolling down the hall, munching on those popsicles thor gave her when she hears nat hiss, “what is she doing?!”

a few seconds later, she hears them arguing over what they should do and it’s so hard not to laugh

“she’s being reckless, go attack her” “what?” “just do it. but don’t hurt her” “what do you want me to do? tickle her??” “no? thumb war”

(y/n chokes on her popsicle)

she leaves, rounds the corner, and walks straight into sam and bucky who are just? standing there? unmoving?

they’re just hoping that y/n might not see them if they stay still long enough

y/n: “what are you two doing here?!”

them, glancing at the battered food truck across the street that sells oysters and chicken wings: “uh- brunching?”

y/n: “...rats eat better than both of you if this is where you brunch”

but y/n’s done with the mission anyway so they end up getting sodas and a bucket of wings

the latter they use to lure nat and clint out of the vents

they’re sitting in the jet when y/n’s bracelet suddenly slips off and GLOWS

then it goes poof and loki’s standing right in front of them

they’re all gaping at him and loki tries SO hard to act ~cool~ but y/n is just grinning like a fool with tears brimming her eyes

loki, shrugging and staring at the ceiling: “just had to make sure you’re all right. hand me a wing”

* * *

stay hydrated <3

hc masterlist

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dailyunsolvedmysteries · 3 years

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Bruce Jeffrey Pardo, Killer Santa

Bruce Jeffrey Pardo grew up in the San Fernando Valley, in Los Angeles California. A bright man, he graduated and secured himself a job as a software engineer for Jet Propulsion Laboratory. Bruce wasn’t the model employee, spending time hacking the company systems to access private personnel information including, but not limited to compensation, tax information, etc… He also had very poor attendance. Despite all this, by 1988, at the age of 24, he found himself engaged to Delia, a fellow employee. The big day arrived on June 17, 1989. Delia waited at the church in nervous anticipation, but Bruce never showed up. She later discovered that he had withdrawn $3,000.00 from their joint bank account and took a trip of his own – to Palm Springs, Florida. Delia called off their engagement, and things went back to how they used to be. It wasn’t until 2001 that Bruce found himself in another difficult situation. He was living with his girlfriend, Eleanor and their thirteen month old son, Matthew, in Woodland Hills, California. It was the most stable relationship Bruce had ever had, and things were going really well. That is, until the day Eleanor went out, leaving Bruce home alone with the baby.

Bruce turned on the television, and got sucked in. He wasn’t paying careful attention to Matthew, and the boy fell into the backyard pool. When Eleanor returned home, she found Bruce holding their son, nearly hysterical. Matthew was rushed to the hospital, and after just one week of intense medical attention, the doctors informed them that their son would never fully recover. In fact, Matthew had sustained brain damage, and was now a paraplegic. As Bruce did when things got hard, he left, never to see his son again.

In 2004, a coworker of Bruce’s introduced him to his sister-in-law, Sylvia. Sylvia was a forty year old, mother of three, and they hit it off, right from the start. But things are not always as they seem. The relationship was suffering under financial stress, and then Bruce’s mother, Nancy, decided she had to say something. She was quite fond of Sylvia, and knew her son had his troubles. She told her about her son’s past relationships, including that with Eleanor, and their son, Matthew. Sylvia was shocked by this revelation, having not known anything about Matthew, and further angered by Bruce’s dishonesty and his lack of responsibility. Then it was discovered that although Bruce hadn’t seen his son since that day in the hospital, he was still continuing to claim him on his taxes as a dependent.

Sylvia filed for divorce in April 2008, and Bruce spiraled into depression.

In June, he purchased his first gun, a 9mm handgun. On June 18, in divorce court, he was ordered to pay $1,785 per month in spousal support. He wrote his first check, which bounced, and then he stopped payment on the second, making no further attempts to pay.

On July 31, he was fired from his job, for billing fraudulent hours. He applied for unemployment, but was denied, as workers who are fired are deemed ineligible.

On August 8, Bruce purchased another 9mm handgun, followed by another purchase on September 8. He then contacted one of his neighbors, Jerry, who happened to be the proprietor of Jerry’s Costumes. He requested a custom sized Santa suit with a little extra room for comfort, as he was 6’4” and 270 pounds, making a standard suit too small. He told her it was for a children’s party, and paid a $200 deposit, with a promise to pick up and pay the rest in November.

Just one week before Christmas, on December 18, 2008, Bruce’s divorce from Sylvia was final. He agreed to let her keep her diamond engagement ring, and agreed to pay her $10k. The next day, he went to a Montrose travel agency, where he booked a ticket to Iowa where he would visit his friend, Steve. He paid $650 for a roundtrip flight, that would depart at 12:20am on Christmas day, and return two weeks later.

He rented Dodge Caliber from Budget, then rented a Silver Rav4 from Rent A Rec. He loaded up the Rav4 with maps of the Southwestern United States as well as water, food, clothing, a tank of gas, a laptop, and desktop computer.

Early evening on Christmas Eve, he stopped to chat with a neighbor, saying he was heading out to a Christmas party. He had been signed up to serve as an user for midnight mass at the church he attended, but didn’t show up. Instead, at approximately 11:30pm, dressed in his Santa suit, Bruce knocked on the door of his former in-laws’ house, where he knew his ex-wife would be.

The door was answered by eight-year old Leticia Yuzefpolsky, Sylvia’s niece. Excited to see Santa Clause, she rushed toward him. Bruce didn’t hesitate, he fired, hitting her in the face. He went on to shoot indiscriminately at the frightened party guests. When he felt he was done shooting, he unwrapped the gift he had brought with him. It was a homemade flamethrower. He began to spray racing fuel around the home, intent on lighting it with a flare. Unfortunately for Bruce, the flames from two separate fireplaces triggered an explosion.

Bruce fled the house, dropping a pair of fake glasses and his Santa hat in the yard. He jumped into the Dodge Caliber rental car and drove thirty miles to Sylmar, parking about a block away from his brother’s home.

He carefully peeled his shredded Santa suit off his body, as it had melted into his skin from the explosion, causing third degree burns. He used his suit to setup a booby trap; if the suit was moved, a trip wire would ignite a flash fire, exploding 200 rounds of ammunition.

Bruce’s brother returned home around 3:10am and found him sprawled on the living room couch, with two handguns by his side. He was dead, having shot himself in the mouth.

Back at the house, the fire soared 40-50 feet, and took 80 firefighters an hour and a half to extinguish. Nine people were dead, and three others wounded. Due to the intensity of the fire, victims could only be identified with dental and medical records.

Sylvia Ortega Pardo, Bruce’s ex-wife, died from a gunshot wound.

Alicia Sotomayor Ortega, Sylvia’s mother, died from a gunshot wound to the abdomen.

Joseph S. Ortega, Sylvia’s father, died from multiple gunshot wounds.

Charles Ortega, Sylvia’s brother, died from a combination of smoke inhalation and gunshot wounds.

Cheri Lynn Ortega, Charles’ wife, died from a combination of smoke inhalation and gunshot wounds.

James Ortega, Sylvia’s brother, died from a combination of smoke inhalation and gunshot wounds.

Teresa Ortega, James’ wife, died from a combination of smoke inhalation and gunshot wounds.

Alicia Ortega Oritz, Sylvia’s sister, died from a combination of smoke inhalation and gunshot wounds.

Michael Andre Oritz, Alicia’s son, died in the fire.

Sylvia’s eight-year-old niece, who had been shot in the face, suffered severe, but non-life-threatening injuries. A sixteen year old girl was shot and wounded in the back, and a twenty year old woman suffered a broken ankle, jumping from a second floor window.

#killer santa #true crime #crime #unsolved mysteries #christmas

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dameronology · 3 years

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more than anything {poe dameron}

summary: poe can be oddly insightful in his own way, and with the pressure of the resistance pulling you down, it's exactly what you need (for @disastersim !! i hope you enjoy angel <3)

warnings: language, one slight innuendo

enjoy!

- jazz

Working for the Resistance could be exhausting in every sense of the worst - emotionally, physically, mentally. Constantly fighting for a cause that had no guaranteed pay off was beyond challenging and the fight - the wars and the battles and the bloodshed - didn't seem to be coming to an end anytime soon. There were days where you made leaps and bounds towards entirely wiping out the First Order, in the same way that there were days when they made strides towards completely wiping out your side of the fight. It was a constant tug of war between good and bad; of course, it wasn't all that black and white, but it was difficult to see what anyone saw in the First Order's extreme principles. That was especially the case when your own comrades packed up and left the base to join them. With that said, there were more than enough people who left that side to come to yours. Ones who saw the Resistance as a source of hope- a light at the end of an awfully fucking long tunnel.

That's what you had to constantly remind yourself off: light. Hope. Courage. All the things that you'd sworn to fight for as long as you could remember - the very values that you so desperately held onto in an attempt to not completely lose it - and the ones you kept so close to your heart. Sometimes, it was easy to do so; easy to believe that the Resistance was going to pull through and that light would shine on the galaxy once again. Other times? Not so much. It was normal to have dark days and sad days but as of late, it had been dark weeks and sad weeks. Your team of fellow mechanical engineers had done their best to lift your spirits, but the weight on your soul was a little too much. It was just something that would have to pass naturally.

It had been effecting your sleep too, to the point where you found yourself wandering the base alone at night. The only other people who were awake were those on the nightshift, and the occasional droid that would whirr around the corner. From where you sat in the garage, you would hear the clank clank clank of Threepio fumbling about the base - he would sometimes say hello, and other you help with whatever it was that you were repairing or tinkering with. For the most part, though, he kept to himself. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, because his famous catchphrase of we're doomed! wasn't entirely the best thing for your morale.

So, there you were at 3AM, Poe's t-shirt hanging off your shoulders and the contents of his X-Wing laid out in front of you. Really, you were just taking it apart and putting it back together as a past time - like some kind of weird puzzle - but you were also looking at potential improvements. His only request was that you made it faster, which seemed a bit counter-intuitive when he of all people could have learnt the value of slowing down. The man was like a whirl wind, breezing in and out of different missions and meetings, barely stopping to take a break to think. The only time he truly and really calmed down was when he was with you; you were his safe space, and the only place he could let his barriers down. The pilot spent hours upon hours curled up against you, murmuring sleepily about nothing and everything all at once.

"This is a stupid time to be awake." (Speak of the devil, and thou shall appear).

Tossing your spanner down, you turned around to see Poe. He was leaning against the door, brown hair tousled with sleep and dark eyes heavy with his remaining tiredness. He was a heavy sleeper, so more often than not he didn't even realise you were gone - but if he woke up and saw your absence, there wasn't a chance in hell that he could get back to sleep. He needed you beside him at the best times, but especially at night.

"I couldn't sleep," you confessed.

"There's been a lot of that going around lately," Poe replied. He slowly approached you, holding out his arms as he did so that you could fall against his chest.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, there's a stupid owl outside my window that woke me up," he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He gently tangled your fingers together and brushed his thumb over the back of your hand. "I sent BB-8 to deal with it."

"Of course you did," you smiled. "I just gotta put this back together and I'll come back to bed."

"What's keeping you up?" Poe asked. "You've been really quiet lately."

You'd always been hesitant to tell Poe about your doubts: he was the epitome of what a good Resistance fighter was, and the beating heart of the entire cause. He never seemed to slip up, or lose hope, to the point where you sometimes wondered if he was naive. It did make sense, after all - his mother had fought hard for the Rebellion, as had his father. Having perfect balance of a rebellious side and a heart of pure fucking gold was probably engrained into his very D.N.A.

"There's a lot on my mind," you admitted. "It never seems to quieten down."

"I get that," Poe gave your hands a light squeeze. "Wanna talk about it?"

"It's probably dumb-"

"- your feelings are always valid, even if they're dumb."

Hopping up onto the wings of the jet beside you, he stuck out his hand and helped you clamber up beside him. The hangar itself was freezing cold - even in the tropical climate of Ajan Kloss - so he wound an arm around your side, pulling you closer to keep you warm. Just Poe's presence alone was enough to pull your mind out the dredges, and the gentle smell of his shower gel and aftershave was a comfort too. It was a mixture of spicy and sweet.

"Go on," Poe said. "I'll be your therapist for the next ten minutes, and then forever if you want."

"What do you charge per hour, Doc?"

He nudged your side with a grin. "We'll get to that later."

You rolled your eyes, but continued all the same. "Everything's just been a lot, lately. All the fighting and the missions, and we keep having set back after set back and I'm tired. I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders and I have no way of shifting it."

Poe's brown eyes flickered away from you for a minute as he pondered on your statement. Unbeknownst to you, he absolutely related - despite his outwards hopefulness and resilient exterior, he had days where he was exhausted too. It was made even more so by the fact that people turned to him to keep them encouraged too - he did have his own brand of ironic wisdom, after all - and it really took it out of him. It was like everybody around him expected him to keep them afloat when he felt like drowning.

"I understand," Poe replied. "The galaxy is a demanding place and sometimes it's more than we can handle. I have days where I feel like everything is going wrong and I just want to curl up in my bed and sleep forever."

"Sounds so tempting," you murmured.

"It does, but that's not how it works, sadly," he continued. "You just gotta...push forward, you know? That's much easier said than done but I find the trick is to take it day by day. Have some caff, get a hug from your favourite person and just pull through til you can collapse into bed and hide under the covers."

"And you do that? Every day?"

"Not everyday," Poe said. "There are good days too, like the ones where we get to eat lunch together, or the ones where BB-8 hacks the big screen in the canteen and shows the video of Hux falling over."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. The little droid had his own way of brightening the lives of those around him, but it was that video in particular that never failed to make you laugh. He'd accidentally recorded it on a break out mission and whenever people needed reminding that the slimy bastards at the First Order weren't completely untouchable, BB-8 would be on it.

"I love those days too," you gently smiled. "The whole day by day things sounds a lot more manageable than trying to digest the concept of time as a whole."

"Exactly," Poe nodded. "And you gotta find joy in those little things. Like, whenever I'm having a really bad day, I'll come and find you and annoy you. That little smile you get when you're trying really hard not to crack and laugh at me always makes things a thousand times better."

"I like that," you replied.

"Then one day, when we've won this fight and we can go home, we can still take things day by day, but it'll be little steps towards other things, like...marriage? I think that's the next logical step."

You thinned your eyes at him. "Is this a proposal?"

"If you have to ask whether it's a proposal, then it's not a proposal," Poe shot back. "You'll know when I'm asking you to marry me."

"I look forward to it," you pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for listening to me. You can be weirdly philosophical."

"I'm smart and good looking," Poe cheekily grinned. "Man, I really am the whole package."

"And moment's gone-"

"- I'm sorry!"

He quickly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. His cheek was pressed up against your forehead, stubble tickling your skin as he held you, softly swaying from side to side.

"I love you," he murmured. "And truth be told, that's the thing that gets me through those bad days."

"You going soft on me, Dameron?" you quietly joked. "I love you too - more than anything."

Poe released his grip on you before taking your hand and helping you climb down from the jet. You still had a few hours till you had to be up and now that the emotional weight on your brain had been relieved ever-so-slightly, you were more than ready to collapse beside the pilot and get some much needed rest.

What Poe had said had begun to change your perspective on things; rather than viewing the galaxy as one whole glob of shitty things, you had to go through it with a fine toothed comb. Find the little things that were sprinkled amongst the bad things, like the way Poe looked at you with a sparkle in his eyes, or the way Finn laughed at words that sounded naughty but weren't naughty. Then there were the times when Leia would give you warm hugs, and when Rey would try and make everyone pancakes on quiet moments.

So yes, the galaxy could suck and yes, the Resistance could be tough, but you had the best people around you. They were the life support that was going to help you see it through.

"C'mon, baby," Poe tugged your arm slightly. "Let's go to bed."

"Yeah," you replied. "Let's."

He wound his arm around you and held you tightly, guiding you back to your room.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you #poe dameron reader insert #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron imagines #star wars x you #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #star wars reader insert #star wars fluff #star wars fan fiction

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straykats · 2 years

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get to know me tag !

much love to @chogiwow for the tag; apologies for the late.. doing of (???????) dnskjv i saw it this morn but i wanted to do it on my laptop so had to wait until after work lol

1. name: kat 2. sign: virgo, forgot the rest 3. height: 167cm! uh. 5'5??? idk thats what google said but it gave more numbers 4. time: 6.29pm 5. birthday: aug 26 6. favorite band/artist: skz, oor, xh, atz, vaundy, given, lucy, ???? cant think rn 7. last movie: the chronicles of narnia: prince caspian (i shall be watching the last movie tonight <;3) 8. last show: i restarted hwarang,, so that's the last show i've watched (or am watching). other than that, idr 9. when i created this blog: idr vjdsvds i think this current blog was created in sep '19, but i didnt post until nov? i really dont remember 10. what i post: too much uhh used to be fics (not that's moved). moon pics. just random text posts??? mainly content rb ig 11. last thing i googled: 'narnia prince caspian' HAHA i wasn't sure what the actual title of the movie was. prior to that, '167cm in feet' 💀💀 12. other blogs: @/straykits (skz writing) ; @/tuskko (occasional anime rbs) ; @/angels-clockwork (aesthetics, quotes, art.. that kinda jazz) ; and another one which i won't reveal HAHA it's just where i rb'ing writing prompts or tips etc to use but tbh i might delete it bc i rarely rb anything there anymore 13. following: 65 14. followers: 1898 15. average hours of sleep: average would be 5-7 hrs (stealing ivys answer bc same) 16. instruments: violin (no longer play but give me a few days and i'll be back in shape i promise); piano (most recent); french horn (for one year, compulsory bc school curriculum, but i would 10/10 have picked it up if i hadn't already been doing violin; trying to teach myself guitar chords but im bad w commitment 17. what i'm wearing: trackies and a. uh. sweater. i think thats what this would be called. 18. dream job: girl idk something creative, but that's not what i'm studying HAHA so dream job in OT would be.. uh... in paeds? as of right now. i'm still yet to do a good paeds prac so idk 😭 19. dream trip: the bsic europe tour ig <//3; roadtrip with friends!!; singapore with friends/cousins 20. nationality: aussie 21. favorite songs: oh dear me. i can't. this is too hard. polkadot stingray - jet // caundy - life hack // yall idk i cant think rn 😔😔

unfortunately i am much too tired and also lowkey lazy HAHA (sorry) to tag anyone but lmk if u want to be tagged,,, and i will tag

#kat plays games #i always debate revealing what my study is bc if where i live + what i study is revealed #it can be pretty easy to find me i think AHHAHA bc only two unis where i live provide the course i study #and yet i still dont hesitate to say all that^^ LMAOOOOO

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andromedasstarship · 4 years

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in the stars - chapter 1

photo credit: @ssahotchnerr

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, show rating 16+ for reference. depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, drinking, brief mention of drugs.

summary - You finally meet the BAU, little progress is made in terms of the case.

a/n - early update yay! i take a lot of liberties with movies that reader has starred in, pls dont take irl movie release dates into consideration here lol. more notes at the end

blog rules

masterlist // read it on ao3 here

prologue // next chapter

-----

Chapter 1

Flights to California always took an extra toll on the team. Reid had explained it once, in a too long ramble, how the wind worked against the plane lengthening the flight at least an hour longer than the trip back home.

Hotch was finding it difficult to focus on the files in front of him. The first photo he opened was of victim #3, with her eyes closed and face turned to the side, even Hotch could’ve been fooled that it was you lying there dead. While the rest of the team was mulling over the facts of the case, he was debating whether or not to tell the team about your history. The Unit Chief in him knew this was important information that had the potential to hinder the case; his relationship to you was too personal and his withholding of information could even turn him into a suspect. If the roles had been reversed with another member of the team, he’d have concerns over their ability to even be on the case. For now, Hotch forced himself to tune into the conversation the rest of the team was having; promising himself he’d figure out what to do later.

“Garcia, what do we know about L/N,” Emily asked, turning ever so slightly towards the screen Garcia had just popped up on.

“I’m glad you asked my dear Emily. Y/N L/N is totally Hollywood’s It Girl right now, it’s rumored you can’t even get a meeting with her without forking over at least twenty big ones. She’s never had a bad role in her career. Personally, my favorite movie she starred in was Mamma Mia, but like I said never a bad role,” Garcia paused for a moment, the sound of her typing filling the silence, “is it inappropriate for me to ask one of you to get her signature for-”

“Garcia,” Rossi interjected, “anything else we need to know about her right now?”

“Sorry sir, I promise to be on my best professional behavior. But come on, remember when she swept the Oscars three years-”

Hotch felt himself detach from the conversation yet again, staring out the window as memories of the two of you flooded his brain.

Three Years Ago

The team had just finished a grueling case in Georgia. It was long, taking nearly two weeks to catch the unsub, in which he had managed to murder three additional couples right under their noses. Inclement weather forced them to stay another night until the storm passed, leaving them all stranded by the airport. In a turnaround way, being stuck gave them the rare opportunity to relax and bond as a team. Rather than all disappear to their own rooms for the night, they all packed into one small hotel room. Boxes of Chinese takeout were littered around the room, along with various bottles of alcohol. The Oscars were on that night and Hotch knew you’d be on the screen at some point, not wanting to miss it he proposed watching it to the team and they all happily agreed. While it was difficult with their schedules to be avid movie goers, they all were relatively familiar with the contenders for big awards such as Best Picture and Best Actor.

You were nominated for two separate awards that night, along with starring in a film nominated for Best Picture. It had been a monumental year for you, with three separate feature films hitting theaters and all becoming major successes both financially and socially. You had spent so much time jet setting for press conferences and movie tours that you rivaled Aaron in terms of suitcase living.

“Everyone shut up! They’re about to do Best Supporting Actress, oh I just know it’s going to be Y/N. Emily agree with me! We saw her in Little Women together, I cried. Oh don’t give me that look Emily, you cried too and you know it!” Penelope said enthusiastically, waving her chopsticks around. It was rare that Garcia ever came with on a case, but the location had been in a remote part of the state and they wanted to avoid being unable to reach her and her technical wizardry; a fact she was particularly grateful for, had this watch party been happening without her, she would’ve been so jealous.

To anyone else, the grin on Hotch’s face would have been easily equated to the bickering going on between his friends and the effects of the few drinks he had thrown back. It was all for you though, he had caught glimpses of you on screen throughout the night and had snuck more than one glance at his phone to see the pictures of your outfit you’d sent him yourself. When the presenters walked on stage, Hotch sat up a bit straighter, his body naturally inching closer to the edge of his seat. The screen set up so the faces of all nominees and their reactions could be seen, Hotch’s eyes glued to the box you were in.

“And the winner of Best Supporting Actress goes to…,” the first presenter started, slowly opening the envelope they held, “Y/N L/N!” The crowd roared and the camera focused in on you sitting stunned in your seat, surrounded by coworkers and friends. The team was cheering too, the liquor in their system loosening everyone up. Hotch clapping uncharacteristically loud and long even went unnoticed by the others.

“I was right, I knew it!! I should start betting on this, you know what I bet I could hack into the system-” Garcia’s voice barely even registered in Hotch’s brain as he watched you. With one hand clasped over your mouth and the other holding your dress you made your way up the stairs and to the center of the stage.

“Wow,” you started, eyes wide as you stared down at the award in your hands, slowly you looked back up into the crowd and continued, “I really mean it when I say I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t even prepare a speech, I’m so sorry,” you paused again, the biggest smile plastered on your face as you quickly wiped a few tears threatening to fall, “thank you all so much, for supporting me and letting me do what I love. Thank you to my fellow coworkers who pushed me in this project and thank you so much to the fans who give me the strength to do this every day. Thank you! Thank you so much!” You ended, making your way back towards your seat. Hotch grinned as you flashed a wide smile to the camera following you, throwing a flirty winky that he knew was just for him.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. When you won again for Best Actress, you were barely able to contain yourself on stage, tears flowing freely down your face as you gave your thanks. The joy you felt in that moment was unlike anything you’d ever experienced in your life. At just 24, you had become the first person ever to win both awards in the same night. Hotch had actually jumped out of his seat at your second win, a motion that confused the rest of the team, but the liquor in everyone’s system forced them to ignore it; more glad than anything to see Hotch loosening up for once.

After the team finally retreated into their own rooms for the night, Hotch wasted no time in texting you, asking if you were free to talk on the phone. His excitement palpable when not even a minute later your contact came up on the screen.

“Aaron,” your excited voice came through the phone, just being able to hear you eased tension he wasn’t even aware he had been carrying, “can you believe it!”

“Congratulations, Miss Double Oscar winner.” Even after a year of being together, his voice made you giddy. “Where are you?” He asked, unable to ignore the pounding sound of music and people in the background.

“After party, top secret location Mr. Agent. I’m in the bathroom! Am I allowed to tell you I definitely see some residue of a line on the counter,” your voice was slurred and rushed, the energy of the moment combined with the liquor in your system causing your mouth to move faster than your brain, “probably not, ignore that. Where are you?”

Aaron relayed various info about closing the case and what the team had gotten up to that night. When you began telling him about your night, he couldn’t help but feel insecure. Where he told you about $8 takeout meals and rural Georgia, you were talking about some of the biggest names in Hollywood and the luxury treatment you’d been subject to all night. He forced himself to focus on your voice anyway; not wanting to take this time ‘with’ you for granted. The two of you could’ve talked for hours, had it not been for Hotch pushing you to go enjoy the celebrations.

“I’m so proud of you angel,” he said softly, voice swelling with adoration, “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

“I love you Aaron.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

When he finally hung up, he leaned against the wall with a sigh, running his hands through his hair. Relationship wise, it had been a tough year for the two of you. With your schedule busier than you’d ever expected, it meant seeing each other in person was nearly impossible. In good conscience you refused to take him away from Jack on the rare weekends he had off. Instead you’d fly in whenever possible, the two of you spending low profile nights together in fancy hotels or his house if Jack was away with friends. It was excruciating maintaining a relationship like this, but something about the success of the night made the sacrifices feel worth it.

Present Day

“Look into her dating history, any exes that would want to hurt her?” JJ asked, her question pulling Hotch back into the present. Adjusting to the constant publicity you were subject to had been a learning curve for Hotch, the first time the tabloids ran a story of you photographed with some Hollywood Hunk his bad mood had the entire team walking on eggshells for a week.

“According to my search she hasn’t dated anyone in years, or at least not publicly. I have a theory she’s secretly dating Henry Ca-.” Hotch zoned back out before Garcia could finish, having no interest in hearing or seeing whoever the media was speculating to be involved with you this time. Willing the plane to land faster, he ignored the faint voice in the back of his head that was telling him you were free to be with whoever you wanted.

----

“If you’d follow me Miss L/N, the BAU has set up in the back conference room, they’ve been waiting for you.” Officer Reynolds said, her back to you as you followed her down the hallway. It was nearly 9am and you had spent the better half of the morning hyping yourself up to see Aaron for the first time in nearly two years. You made last second adjustments to your outfit; an outfit you definitely hadn’t spent all of last night picking out because you definitely did not want to look good for Aaron Hotchner. As Officer Reynolds moved to open the door you held your breath, thanking the years of experience in manipulating your outward expressions. When four heads turned in unison to look at you, you let out a sigh of relief. Aaron wasn’t in the room.

“This is Y/N L/N. Miss L/N, meet the BAU,” Officer Reynolds said, extending her arm outwards towards the rest of the room, “I’ll leave you guys to do introductions, if you need anything, find me,” and with that she exited the room. A blonde woman stepped forward first, extending her hand out to you. You knew who she was before she even said her name.

“My name is Jennifer Jareau, I’m the media liaison with the BAU.” She said, she gave you the same smile all the other officers had been giving you, but unlike theirs that reeked of pity, something in Jennifer’s felt authentic to you. After shaking hands with her, the rest of the room took a moment to introduce themselves. You never thought you’d meet Aaron’s team like this. Over the years, he had shown you countless photos of the team, along with hundreds of stories and tidbits concerning their lives. Even though you knew they had probably spent the entire flight to LA looking at your life, it still felt as if you had some creepy advantage over the situation.

“The rest of our team, Agents Hotchner and Morgan, are currently doing some research in the field, but until they return we’d love to brief you and ask you a few questions, is that alright?” JJ asked, stepping backwards and motioning for you to take a seat at the round table.

“Of course,” you quickly replied, moving to take a seat; internally you were laughing at the irony of her asking if it was alright, what would you do, say no? Looking up at the other three members still standing you motioned for them to sit as well, “I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but I’d prefer if you all sat down too,” you paused, before adding, “kinda makes me feel like I’m back at school.” They seemed to smile at that, everyone else moving to find a seat at the table. Before the silence could turn uncomfortable, JJ spoke up again.

“Does anyone else in your life know about the murders?”

You shook your head no before replying, “my agent knows just in case I have to go underground and my security guard is aware, but besides them and the police, I haven’t told anyone.”

“Go underground?”

“Uh yea, a few years ago I had a stalker. I went ‘underground’ for about three months and the guy seemed to give up. The police have already cleared him, he hasn’t been to LA in over a year,” you explained.

“That’s good to know. We want to keep your involvement in the case completely out of the media. I can only imagine you want that too,” JJ started, angling her body towards you, “I know you’re probably more than well versed in dealing with the press, but if anyone comes up to you asking about the murders we want you to completely disengage. And of course, don’t tell anyone else about what’s going on.”

“Alright, now that that’s settled, we just have a couple questions for you,” Emily asked as she stood up, opening up a file from the table, “so what can you tell us about-”

----

The dump site wasn’t showing any promise. Situated near a highway, the field was hidden from the road, yet still accessible by car. The constant stir caused by the speeding cars meant any leftover DNA or footprints were effectively blown away.

“Our guy’s gotta be fit. The drop into the field is just steep enough he would’ve had to carry the body at least fifty feet to get it here from the road. He could’ve rolled it, but the bodies were too pristine to have been dropped on the ground like that.” Derek said, looking over at Hotch. The two of them were standing at the edge of the road, looking down at the now empty field. “Not only that, but this is a nice spot. Normally places like this so close to a highway are filled with trash, do you think he might’ve cleaned up?”

Hotch was silent as he considered this, before slowly nodding, “it’d make sense if he did. Everything we have concerning his treatment to the victims post mortem has been nothing but affectionate.”

“Do you think there could be two unsubs?” Derek asked, when Hotch looked at him with mild confusion he continued, “All the victims were strangled to death, ME report assumes it was by hand. It takes a lot of strength and persistence to kill someone by hand like that, not only that but it’s intimate, he’s staring them in the face as he kills them. The level of care displayed here seems way more than just remorse.”

Hotch took another moment to consider Derek’s proposition before shaking his head, “we’ll keep it in mind, but it’s clear whatever connection he has to L/N is personal, at least to him. These women could be failing to replicate some part of her personality and in his rage he kills them. But when they’re silent and unmoving, their likeness to L/N lets him fall back into the fantasy, hence the care.”

“We should start heading back, Reid just texted me they’re almost done with the initial briefing with L/N, and we should meet her before she takes off for the day.” Derek said, putting his phone back in his pocket before turning on his heel to head back to the car. Hotch’s shoulders tensed at the idea of seeing you, looking back at the field once more. Giving the field one last look, he felt a shiver run up his spine at the idea of finding you in a field like this. Shaking the idea out of his, he turned to join Derek in the car.

Hotch took the driver's seat, glad to be able to use the road as a needed distraction from the impending face to face. The drive was only twenty minutes, but Hotch didn’t think any time would truly be long enough to prepare himself to see you again. He found himself wondering if anything would be different from the last time he saw you. Did you still smell the same? You had always been quite adamant about your preference for scented lotion, rather than perfumes. What if you completely changed your hair? Were you worrying about seeing him as much as he was?

“You think she’s gonna be easy to work with?” Derek asked, breaking Hotch out of his mental spiral.

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, you know, “Hollywood’s It Girl”,” Derek explained, “if she’s as in demand as Garcia said she was-”

“While we work this case Morgan, I expect you to conduct yourself appropriately,” Hotch interjected, his voice tight, “we treat Y/N the way we would anyone else, do I make myself clear?” His eyes not leaving the road at all, knuckles tight around the steering wheel.

“Crystal,” Derek responded, raising his hands up in mock surrender.

As they turned into the parking lot, Hotch scanned the parking lot before finally noticing your car parked in the back of the lot. You used to always park as far as you could, constantly complaining about how people in parking lots stressed you out and you wanted to be able to drive in and out as easy as possible. The corners of his lips turned up, ever so slightly, thinking maybe nothing had really changed for you, at least in that regard.

“You go ahead, I’m just going to send a message to Jack real quick,” Hotch lied, pulling his phone from his pocket. Derek nodded and got out of the car, quickly entering the building. Hotch put his phone down in his lap and gripped the steering wheel once more. You were one of the few people to ever wind him up this way; it had been like that from the first day he met you, as if you managed to make him melt under your gaze. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes to pull himself together before letting the Unit Chief in him take over.

----

“I’m sorry, I just, can I take a break,” you asked, looking up at the agents who were still grilling you about facets of your life you never would’ve considered relevant, “I just need to get some air.” Without really waiting for permission, you were pushing back on your chair to stand up. Slinging on your thin jacket you exited the room, heading for the entrance of the building. The agents had been kind, but you were starting to feel a bit useless. Each time they had a new theory, you came up short in terms of material for them to actually use. They kept reassuring you that what you were able to come up with was helpful, but you weren't convinced.

You had been in and out of this office so many times, your body went into autopilot as you made your way to the entrance, not even pausing to look up as you started to push open the door. What you missed was the distinct outline of a body pulling the door open at the same time. The added force made you stumble, nearly crashing straight into the man on the other side. Brown eyes met yours and you both froze, uncertain of what to say before speaking at the same time.

“Y/N.”

“Agent.”

-----

a/n - wow wow! things are gonna start moving in the next chapter, i promise. the response to ‘in the stars’ so far has been so heartwarming. ive said it before, but this is my first fic and i cant even fathom that people are actually interested in what im writing. your support means the world! im trying to get stuff written before university starts up again, but i dont want to nix quality for faster updates so if updates slow down im sorry! comments always appreciated. leave a reply or ask if youd like to be added to the taglist! if you requested before but arent added, just ask again i mustve missed it on accident

Taglist: @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong

no permission is given to republish or upload my fics anywhere else. if you see this story not on my tumblr or ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own criminal minds or any of the characters involved

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchner #in the stars #'stori writes #in the stars chapter 1

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theleotorrio · 3 years

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Hi, I wrote a jupeter fanfic, if anyones interested. Have fun!

Words: 2253

Also I couldn't figure out how to do a read more thing, so sorry to everyone who wants to skip this

Your better half

CW: Blood, a lot of blood, major character death, very sad

__________

He had a lot of time to think about it.

So whenever Juno imagined seeing him again, his mind came up with a lot of different scenarios.

In his worst nightmares there would be yelling and tears, the stench of betrayal thick in the air and his heart scattering into pieces. Or there wouldn’t be a reunion at all. Just an offhand comment in a bar somewhere “Oh yeah, the angel of Brahma? Dead”

In more conscious moments there were conversations to have, a little distrust but the determination to work through whatever it is that is going on.

And sometimes he allowed himself the thought of breathless relief upon finding him unharmed and the feeling of an embrace he wished could last until forever.

The thought of Peter Nureyev was the thing that kept him going, no matter which one it was. And he should be right. There would be tears and breathlessness and determination. But in the end, it wouldn’t be enough.

____________

It has been months since the wedding, since Juno had to leave the Carte blanche behind to work on saving his family. The only thing he had left was the Ruby 7 and Nureyev’s notebook. And it had been work to come up with a plan that would work and ensure that no one got hurt.

And it did.

Until it didn’t.

Juno knew he couldn’t pose as a guard, when his family got transferred to a different facility, as they were still looking for him. So he let Ruby hack into the system to get all the information needed, the plans and locations to find the perfect spot to free them.

It was easier, as the Carte blanche was moved with them, too.

So, there he was, again in the vents, following the movement beneath him, waiting for the hall to narrow.

His family knew he was there. They must have seen the sign Juno left on the cell door, invisible and irrelevant to everyone, but the Aurinkos. They all anticipated it, which made his job easier.

There were eight guards.

He could take out six with one shot, when they stopped to wait for the vehicle to arrive for them. Buddy showed him how and he didn’t doubt his abilities or her assessment for a second. Not anymore.

And even if he got less, Vespa would have no issue taking out the rest.

As he lined up his blaster and pulled the trigger, one of the guards not in his line of fire raised his and shot the guard in front of him.

Juno froze. His mind stopped yet started spinning with emotions at the same time.

It was him. It had to be. Here to the rescue.

His knight in stolen armour.

And suddenly everything was lighter. The notebook in his pocket no weight to drag him down no longer, but to ground him in the moment.

He shook himself out of his paralysis, a hope blossoming in his chest. He had his family back. All of them. And it was time to go.

So he freed himself from the vents and landed next to Rita who squealed upon seeing him.

“Mista Steel!! You found us”.

He allowed himself a quick smile for her and squeezed her shoulder, but his eyes on Buddy to make sure everything was alright.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Nureyev taking off the guards mask and his last bit of doubt dropped. Everything was alright. As much as Juno wanted, he knew now was no time to focus on Nureyev. That had to wait, until they were back in Carte blanche, in safety.

On their way to the Carte blanche the alarms started ringing, but they got themselves to the cargo bay before any guards entered the area and opened fire, but the ramp was already closing in, and quite honestly, they were pretty bad shooters.

Juno let out a breath and let his shoulders slump. He did it. He saved his family and by whatever chance got Nureyev back at the same time.

He looked around at the others. Buddy and Vespa, out of breath, checking each other over, Rita, busying herself with the ramp and the ship, just like Jet, who also kept looking at the Ruby. And then his eyes finally caught him.

Juno forgot about his surroundings for a while. It has been too long since he last saw Peter, talked to him, was near him.

Suddenly the cold and the loose ends and the empty feeling, that had stayed with Juno ever since Nureyev had left his room the morning he had given him the notebook, disappeared and a wave of warmth washed over him. Everything was in the right place again.

So now looking at the soft smile, that was directed at him, made him feel like everything would be alright.

He saw the bright orange flash and Nureyev’s smile drop at the same time, but everything happened too fast.

He heard a yell of “Juno!” and felt himself being moved, hands on each of his arms, but nothing really registered, his ears were ringing.

He nearly missed the groan of pain, but was forced back into the moment, as the hands on his arms tightened.

A shot must have gotten through the ramp, that now locked with a hiss, and ricochet from the wall and head for Juno. Good thing Nureyev got him out of the way in time. Nureyev!

A sharp intake of breath made his eye look up, into Nureyev’s pain contorted face, just to drop back to the torso of the man in front of him.

A red spot was spreading all across the light uniform.

Juno’s face fell. No. This couldn’t be happening.

“N-, Ransom? Ransom, it will be alright, it’s barely a scratch” He knew his voice was way higher than usually and sounded panicked, even to his ears.

He lifted his hands, pressing them to the fabric, trying to stop the bleeding as best as he can, while reassuring himself under his breath.

The Carte blanche started moving abruptly, which caused Nureyev to lose his footing and tumble to the ground, dragging Juno, who was desperately trying to keep him standing, with him.

Juno managed to change his grip on the tall man and caught him before he hit the floor, draping him across his lap, a hand buried in his hair, holding him close.

“You’re fine, we can fix this, just a few days and you’re as good as new” The words felt wrong even to his own ears, unbelievable and so far away from everything he was seeing.

Peter was pale now, his breaths coming short, as he was clutching at Juno like his life depended on it. It felt like his hands were burning wholes into Juno, the warmth he was feeling before turning boiling hot. It made him want to jump out of his skin.

Juno looked down at the torn shirt, the burned skin and the blood.

All the blood. He felt like he might throw up. He looked back up into Nureyev’s eyes, desperation written over all his face.

Peter’s eyes, despite being pain worbed, gazed at him calmly. Lovingly.

The acceptance written all over the man he loved broke something in Juno. He started shaking his head, his eyes filling with tears.

It will be fine, everything will be alright, they can fix it. They have to.

Junos inner monologue got quieter, more unsure of its authenticity, fizzling out slowly.

“Juno”, Nureyev’s voice was quiet, full of emotion and maybe filled with a little bit of wonder. Like he couldn’t believe he got to see him again. “I want you to know-”.

“No”, Juno’s voice was loud and panicky in the quiet space. “You are not going to do something stupid or say goodbye or… or”, his words were shaky, as he started tearing up more, a first tear escaping his eye.

“This is ok, we can fix it, we can heal you, right?” he looked up at Vespa then and even though the tears making it hard for him to see, he saw something like pity, concern and resignation.

“Right?” he tried again, breathless and numb. Vespa just shook her head helplessly.

“I’m sorry”.

Juno’s breath hitched as something cold closed around his heart. Nureyev coughed, wetly and whistling, ripping Juno from his stupor and bringing his face back to him. He cupped his face between his hands, desperate for contact as everything inside of him was screaming and tearing itself apart.

“No, no, no, no, I am not losing you, not now” a tear landed on Nureyev’s cheek, his eyes filled with tears now too. “I just got you back” Juno’s voice was nothing more than a whisper.

He was not even noticing, that he left blood on his lovers cheeks with his hands.

Peter’s hands smoothed down Juno’s sides, reassuringly, comforting. “Juno, love”, his left hand caught on something in one of the detective’s pockets and he pulled it confused out.

The notebook.

The notebook, that had been burning in Juno’s pocket every day for months on end, as he never took it out. Never parted from it.

“Please, just stay still and we’ll figure something out” Juno didn’t even know what he was saying, everything that was happening was like a fog. Everything but Nureyev.

Nureyev pulled the notebook towards himself now, slowly opening it to the last page.

“Who was my first love” he read the sentence he wrote, that was his to answer, out loud, yet quiet in the big cargo bay.

More tears ran down Juno’s face. Everything inside of him hurt so much, that he coiled into himself a bit, holding onto Nureyev a little tighter and being just a little closer to him in the process.

“This is not important, we can talk about this later, when you’re alright and everything is fi-ne” he stuttered on the last word as Peter reached a hand to his face, letting his thumb rest just under Juno’s eye and wiping another tear away that was running down his face.

A first tear trailed down his face as well now, as he smiled a sad smile, very different of all the charming and teasing and sometimes just plain happy smiles Juno was used to. This one was way heavier.

“It’s you”.

It was the way he said it, that broke Juno completely. So full of awe and wonder, like he never imagined getting to this point, having this; full of love.

Juno couldn’t process all that. Him. Even though Nureyev could do so much better, it was him. And because of himself, he was going to lose not his first love, but what he hoped could have been his last.

He was sobbing freely now, clutching at everything of Nureyev he could reach, as he heard the tell-tale noise of the book continuing to write itself.

He had no eyes for it. He only looked into the bright eyes in front of him, trying to say everything.

“Don’t leave me”.

The denial has left Juno now, leaving shards of broken hope behind, as he cradled Nureyev’s head and leaned in to touch their foreheads together. Seeking comfort for himself, but also trying to provide some for his lover in front of him.

“I love you”, it was spoken quiet between them, no more than a breath and it felt just as needed to survive, “stay with me”. Juno was pleading to everything that he didn’t believe in.

Nureyev laced their hands together and smiled that sad smile again.

“There is nothing I would love more Juno” He was savouring the name on his lips, like a benediction.

His breathing was irregular now, the whistling of each one louder than the one before, his eyes dropping from time to time.

“I promise, I will never really leave you” the sentence was pushed out between a lot of painful breaths and took hold of something in Juno’s chest.

He raised the tangled hands to his face and pressed his lips to Nureyev’s palm, as more tears fell between them.

That was when he felt the grip loosen and saw Nureyev’s eyes close.

They didn’t open again.

Juno’s chest clenched together. All the air in his lungs felt like it was punched out.

He closed his eyes, pressing Nureyev’s hand tighter to his cheek and just cried. He was cold.

The relief he felt, when he saw Nureyev between the guards, was long gone. Nothing was in the right place anymore and Juno wasn’t sure, if they would ever be again.

Because the person with the plans to how everything was supposed to look like inside of him was dead.

He could live with the mess, he told himself. It would remind him of Nureyev and the chaos that followed meeting this impossible man.

The best thing that ever happened to him.

Juno looked up.

The others were all still in the cargo bay with him. He had forgotten they were there, but they also seemed frozen in place.

Buddy and Vespa, their hands clasped together tightly, like they were afraid, they would lose each other the second they let go.

Vespa looked haunted, unsure of what to feel, of how to process it and Buddy. There was deep grief all over her face, sadness and guilt; regrets.

Juno wondered, if she ever knew just how much Nureyev had looked up to her. He had to look away.

Jet was standing stoically as Rita buried herself in his side, trying to muffle her cries. There was a single tear escaping his eyes.

Juno knew that that was his way to show his respect. He didn’t want to know how he himself looked.

Not being able to bear their looks anymore, he looked down.

Onto Nureyev’s body. He felt as still as the man looked.

The whirlwind of emotions had stopped and left behind nothing. Just an empty feeling.

As he moved his knee bumped into something.

The notebook.

The new page was still in Nureyev’s unreadable scribble, but he picked it up nonetheless.

What he saw made him tear up again. The book was dragging him down again, further than before, crushing him.

Juno broke down sobbing, clutching the notebook to himself.

He would have loved to.

Well, Detective, you’ve made it through my riddles

I was not expecting anything less, obviously

As I probably already said, I got out of my troubles- present and past- and there is nothing I want more than to spend the time and freedom I have with you

As myself

If you’ll have me

Your better half

Peter Nureyev

#the penumbra podcast #the penumbra spoilers #the penumbra fanfic #tpp #tpp spoilers #peter nureyev #jupeter #juno x peter #juno steel

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ranger-jedi-knight · 4 years

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This Little Angel Part 2

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201565/chapters/59881333 Taglist: @chocolate1721 @tiny-goddess-of-chaos @amayakans @cutechip @more-or-less-human-i-guess

Ok, so here’s the much requested second chap!! I hope you guys enjoy it!!

Mari was excited as she looked around the private jet Bruce was taking them home on. She kept looking up and down at her sketchbook as she sketched a few things from the inspiration. Harley and Joker were on the plane too, Mari and the others had a moment of surprise when Joker had taken all his make-up and what not off leaving him looking very normal. Not that they couldn’t blame him. They can’t exactly petition Paris to give her custody back over to her criminal parent JOKER. So they had to look normal. Harley was going by her real name Harleen and Joker was going by Jack.

It may have been illegal to forge some documents but it was for the better. She was in all rights Harley and Joker’s daughter. But, no one outside of Gotham was going to accept that. So, they may have asked Babs and Tim to hack and make official paperwork saying that she was adopted at age 3 by Jack and Harleen Quinzel. Then have it known that at around age 10 she was kidnapped and trafficked resulting in their divorce.

Even Gordon agreed to it since he knew how much Harley and Joker cared for her. Their worried attack to search the city when she first disappeared was proof of that! And having her back, they were sure Joker would return back to normal, doing more innocent attacks, using the venom only on HUGE heists that happened less and less. Becoming more of a nuisance than a real big baddie.

And they could only do that if they had official US documentation of Mari’s adoption to them. So, they did a little illegal hacking to do it. But no one outside of their group had to know that. Mari reached down to pat her purse as they crossed into France, getting closer to Paris. It was the next day so no doubt her class was going to be in class. She did wonder tho if classes were easy today for everyone because of the trip.

She suggested it, but she wondered if Bustier would follow it.

They soon landed at the airport and both Chloe and Damian took one of her hands into theirs. She was so glad that Bruce had come with and let Damian join. They exited the plane and got their suitcases.

Chloe’s driver was there already and took them to the hotel where they were all staying. Mari was to stay in Chloe’s suit as a neutral place while that whole case went down. Gordon was sharing a room with Joker and Harley to keep them in check, which he doubted they needed but better to be safe. While Bruce and Damian had their own.

After dropping their bags off, Bruce, Gordon, Harley, and Joker went to the French Police and child services to deal with the case about Mari’s future. Meanwhile, Mari and Chloe went to the school to tell them due to a case they wouldn’t bee in class for some time. But they would keep up with their studies while the case went on.

Damian decided to go with them but would stay in the car-limo actually. Mari took a deep breath when they stopped in front of the school. She gave the two a small smile when they squeezed her hands. The two slowly slid out of the limo and made their way into the school and up to Principal Damocles’s office. It was a quick thing to inform him of what happened and about a case being opened.

So Damocles agreed and understood that they wouldn’t be in class and just said to either put their work into Bustier’s mailbox in the school or to give it to him. Now it was time to face Ms. Bustier and tell her. They reached her classroom and Mari raised a hand to knock. Bustier opened the door and glared at the two girls before pulling them into the classroom.

“Girls, I don’t know what has gotten into. First, you purposefully miss the flight home for attention, and now come to class late? What do you have to say for yourselves? It better be good otherwise I’ll be sending you to the principal’s office,” Bustier said annoyed and the two shared a dumbfounded look while the rest of the class laughed.

“Ya Marinette, I can’t believe you’d stoop so low like that!” Alya shouted before looking at Bustier once more. “Also, Ms. Bustier, Marinette sent Lila horrible texts this morning. They should be sent to the principal’s office for bullying!” she yelled and the class shouted their agreement. “Oh really? Girls?” Bustier was fully glaring at the two now.

“I can prove that Lila lied there. I haven’t touched my phone all morning since I turned it off when I got onto my flight home this morning and turned it on when we got off,” Mari said pulling out her phone to show a tweet she made from Gotham time of 2 am getting onto a private jet and then making a tweet at 11 am getting off the jet and into Chloe’s limo. “See? You’d see that for the time it took to fly, my phone was off, the exact time that I ‘supposedly’-” she put in air quotes “-sent horrible texts to Lila. even you know that you can’t do anything on a phone while flying,” she finished and Alya grumbled and glared at the girl, somehow thinking she was lying still.

“As for that flight thing and late,” Chloe said looking at her nails not even bothering to glare at Bustier, “you guys left us in Gotham even tho Mari’s reunion with her parents was very public. Not to mention you didn’t even headcount. So really, you’re too blame for that,” Chloe said and Bustier opened her mouth but Chloe cut her off with a raised hand. “And for the late, we just arrived an hour ago in Paris and had to drop our bags off. We just came here from Damocle’s office saying we won’t be in class for some time due to a case being opened up that we’ll be a part of. Now, we ought to be going,” she grabbed Mari’s hand and started walking out before glancing back in with a smirk. “You guys should be expecting some suits to show up later too~!” she called out smirking before leaving.

Bustier glared at the door, planning on talking to Damocle’s at lunch about their behavior.

They entered the limo and Mari leaned against Damian’s shoulder as they went to the hotel and stayed there.

The following week is hectic, to say the least. Mari is going between talking at family court and facing akumas and ignoring her ex-friends and parents. Tom and Sabine didn’t appreciate Mari saying that Lila indeed lied to them when they asked about where she was. They also didn’t appreciate being investigated along with their workers, friends, and customers. They thought they were star parents and didn’t deserve this.

Before court, they tried guilting Mari into not suing them or her friends. Chloe and Damian had to pull her away before she caved with her lawyer threatening them. As it was, they informed the judge of it, and the Judge was not amused at that. It was tough, so very tough, but in the end, the Judge decided that Mari was to stay with Harleen and Jack in joint custody. While they were separated, it was clear they loved and missed their daughter. Meanwhile, Tom and Sabine had to pay for it. They were banned from adopting kids until they took some classes and had proven they would take care of and love a child correctly and not work them.

After that, it was time to focus on suing her classmates for harassment and the school for negligence. Now that would take longer to deal with. The family court only took 4 days to deal with it. She could only sigh at the break she got between it after finishing the family case. They gave her the next day to rest before jumping into the next cases against students and the school.

Tho, that had her giving another sigh of relief as a few classmates agreed to the terms easily when they were told off by Jack and Harleen about how they should know her from the 6 years they’ve known each other. And then Bruce coming in to serve Lila papers for slander. That had the whole class shouting as then another lawyer came in with all the other celebrities she’s lied about suing her.

Ladybug sighed as she landed in an alley nearby after defeating the Akuma. She leaned against the wall and slid down as her transformation died. Her head fell back against the wall with her eyes closed. A gasp ringing thru the air had her eyes flinging open tho.

She looked around and her eyes landed on Joker and Harley standing at the entrance. “Mama? Papa?” she called and the two came to her and kneeled down in front of her. “What are-did you-?” she cut off, worry filling her veins.

“We know now sweetie. We followed Ladybug to see how long this has been happening and if you were in trouble at all,” Harley said cupping her daughter’s cheek and Mari leaned into the touch with a sigh.

“This has been going on since I was 13. I’ve tried figuring out who Hawkmoth is but I’ve been having trouble. My partner hasn’t been any help tho,” she said softly and watched as her parents got angry.

“And this whole time you’ve had to deal with those idiotic sheep called classmates the whole time?” Joker demanded and Mari bit her lip.

“Just for the last year or so when Lila appeared,” she explained watching as her parents got more upset.

“Please calm down tho!” Tikki called floating in front of them causing their anger to dissipate a bit as confusion went thru them.

“Who are ya?” Harley asked, sticking a finger out pocking the paw Tikki held out.

“I’m Tikki, Marinette’s Kwami! I’m what allows her to transform into Ladybug,” she explained and the two slowly nodded. So once that confusion was clear she elaborated on her first comment. “You two need to calm down tho. Hawkmoth can feel any negative emotions and feed off them! So far only two people have fought him off and I’m sure Mari wouldn’t want to fight her parents,” she explained and the girl nodded her agreement.

“I don’t wanna fight you, mama, papa,” she said as Harley then pulled her into a hug that Mari returned. Joker stiffened tho causing the two to pull back to look at him worried. Mari gasped when she saw the outline surrounding his eyes. “Papa!” she cried out.

“Oh, so your that punk-ass bitch terrorizing everyone. Well, listen here, mothy. You are an insult to villains everywhere. You hide away and make others do the work for you. You make children fight your battle, you punk-ass bitch. So let me say this, the reason I’m upset is because of you terrorizing my daughter while facing the stress of her classmate’s harassment. The moment I find you, Mothy, I’m going to make you regret everything you’ve ever done. And don’t you try saying that I can’t. Do you know who I am? I’m the Joker, Clown Prince of Gotham. Oh yes, you have heard of me. Then you know I don’t make light threats. I will make your life a living hell. Do I make myself clear?” he asked and cackled when a pure white butterfly flew away hastily. “Well, he won’t try bugging me anymore,” he said and a sudden laugh left Mari’s lips.

Her parents looked at her fondly as she laughed. “Why don’t we head home now, sweetie?” Harley suggested and Joker nodded agreement. The two help Mari up and make their way to the hotel they were staying at.

“Since you know now. I’m Ladybug, I’m also the guardian of the Miraculous. I....I need to defeat Hawkmoth before I can leave,” she said softly when they reached their room and the two nodded understanding.

“Of course, sweetie. We’ll stay here as long as it takes,” Harley said as Joker hummed as they sat down on a couch.

“What if Batsy could help?” he asked and Mari hummed in thought.

“It could get done quicker,” she admitted and Joker nodded.

“That’s what I thought. Let me go talk to someone,” Joker said standing up and leaving the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ladybug stood at the top of the Eiffel Tower. She tilted her head slightly when she saw movement. Two people soon landed in front of her and she tilted her head. “Batman, Robin,” she greeted and the two nodded to her.

“So your Ladybug,” Batman said and she nodded. “What did you need help with? You seem to be doing everything very well,” he commented and Ladybug shrugged uncomfortably.

“Well, that may be. I’m not a detective. I don’t know how to figure out Hawkmoth’s identity. So I need your help to do that. I’m done with Paris. I want to leave,” she said and the two nodded slowly. They could only guess that she was done with Paris in her personal life seeing as everyone has the greatest respect for Ladybug.

“Ok, we can help with that,” Batman said with the smallest of nods.

“There’s something else,” she said, trailing off as she looked off into the distance.

“M’Lady! You didn’t tell me we would be having company~” Chat purred out leaning in close while glaring at everyone. Ladybug frowned as she pushed Chat away from her, earning a growl from him.

“That’s because we,” she pointed between him and herself, “never had anything planned. This was a planned meeting between myself and Batman and Robin,” she said glaring and Chat was angry at that.

“Oh really? Is that any way to treat your partner, m’lady?” he demanded and Ladybug scowled.

“You haven’t been my partner in a while, Chat,” she spat his name out. “You stopped being it when you decided flirting and whining was more important than defeated the Akuma’s,” she said and Chat scoffed.

“Please, your cure will bring everything back,” he said and Ladybug gnashed her teeth together as she stomped up to Chat and slapped him hard across the face.

“I don’t care that my cure can bring everything back. We shouldn’t rely on it. What if that battle is the one Hawkmoth wins? He does his wish. There’s no telling what will happen. Except that those people who are dead will most definitely stay dead. And because of your lazy ass, I now how to protect you as well which means that more people can get hurt or killed. Did you know that people remember dying? They remember that moment. They are traumatized by that moment. They cannot ever forget that moment. And that is all on you!” she shouted angrily.

“So what!?” he demanded and everyone was silent at that. How could they respond to that!? Ladybug was shaking in anger. She had a terrifying expression on her face that somehow was both ice cold and encompassed all seven levels of hell angry.

Chat didn’t even get to react.

Before he knew it, he was on the ground tied up and sore all over.

“Chat Noir, I hereby proclaim you unfit to wield a Miraculous. As Guardian of the Miraculous, I hereby reclaim you’re Miraculous of the Black Cat. You are unworthy and will never be able to wear or use a Miraculous ever again,” Ladybug said ripping the ring off of Chat to reveal Adrien Agreste underneath the mask. Ladybug snarled at him as he cried out. A red mark similar to the one of the box, formed on his chest and hand, burning.

“No! You can’t do that! He’s all I have left!” he shouted reaching out when Ladybug untied him.

She slapped his hand away. “No, I can do that. You’ve shown yourself to be incompetent in being a hero. You only have yourself to blame,” she said turning away. “Let’s go,” she said swinging off, not even seeing if the other two followed. She landed on the balcony leading to her parent’s room, leaving the two vigilantes confused. Mari stumbled into the room and collapsed onto the couch with a groan as she transformed.

“Mari?” Robin asked causing her to groan once more as she looked up at them blearily.

“You followed,” she mumbled before planting her face on the couch once more.

“Mari needs to rest now,” Tikki said flying up to look at both Batman and Robin. The two looked at her shocked.

“Who are you?” Robin asked.

“I am Tikki, Kwami of Creation. I’m what gives Mari her powers,” she explained and the two nodded. “But go, she needs to rest. What she did exhausted her, it’d no simple thing for a Guardian to ban someone from ever using a Miraculous again. We’ll talk in the morning,” Tikki said and the two nodded, heading to their room.

In the morning, they did talk.

In the morning, Mari learned that Robin and Batman were Damian and Bruce Wayne.

Within the week, they had taken down Hawkmoth and revealed to the world that Gabriel Agreste was a terrorist.

Adrien revealed himself as Chat Noir which brought about mixed responses. No one really respected Chat, at least not the people that he needed to. Especially when they learned he was stripped of the Miraculous. For all the harassment, endangering, and enabling he’s done, along with not feeling guilty about just outraged that he was being punished, he was going to a school for troubled kids and put on record as a harasser. He would be going to juvie for 6 months tho first before being sent out of Paris to the school. His father’s company tho, the courts would decide what to do with when he turns 18. But who knows how it’ll look like when Adrien is 18.

Mari felt a bit bad but knew it was for the best. Lila was the next worst off. Lila had piles of lawsuits. She was banned from France as a whole with everyone knowing what she’s done. She was going to a military school for troubled teens in the hopes she’d get better. She’d stay with her grandparents who were no-nonsense. She’d also have to pay for all the suits which would be hard considering not many people wanted to hire her.

The rest of the class had it off easiest. They only had to pay a fine and do a bit of community service. Damocles was demoted and sent to classes to see if he could possibly return to being a principal. Ms. Bustier, however, was fired. She didn’t handle the situation well at all, and only ever listened to one side of the argument and pressured students. So she isn’t allowed to teach kids anymore.

The class tho, they felt they lost the worst.

They realized just how amazing Mari was to them. And what they did to her in return for that kindness? They treated her horribly. Only Chloe was able to talk to her. But they all got to see how well she was settling into her new life in Gotham. It was hard to miss really.

She was dating Damian Wayne and got an internship with Bruce Wayne to help start up her business as MDC. She was called the Angel of Gotham. Chloe joined her there and lived with Mari and her parents.

And she looked so happy back home in Gotham.

They were never making it up to Mari, no matter how hard they tried.

Ok, so here’s the second part!! I hope you like it. Sorry if the ending seems a TAD rushed. I wanted to give you guys this and i was losing steam on it, mostly a headache comin in goin ‘HAHAHA U THOUGHT UD WRITE?! THINK AGAIN AHAHAHAHAH’. Ya, so that’s why. Anyways, until next time! -Love Willa <3<3<3

#fanfic #fanfic update #This Little Angel #TLA #Part 2 #the MUCH awaited part 2 #update #my writing #maribat #daminette #ml x dc #dad joker #uh #idk what else to tag

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sombrasdatabase · 6 years

Text

Just Say You Love Me (Angel Jet Hack)

Content: SFW

Pairing: Pharah x Mercy x Sombra

Prompt: Feeling unappreciated.

Angela sighed as she scrubbed the dishes after their Thankgiving dinner. Fareeha and Sombra were cuddling on the couch laughing about something in the Charlie Brown special. Sombra had never seen it before and Fareeha was more than happy to enlighten her on the classic holiday film, but here she was cleaning up the mess of a kitchen by herself. She didn't really expect them to help, and she supposed that the dishes weren't really what was bugging her. It was the fact that she had been away at the Oasis University teaching a semester on advanced medicine and when she came home at last they seemed closer than ever before while she was starting to feel like a third wheel in their relationship.

Her lips had settled into a frown as she washed each dish, dried them, and put them away but still felt frustrated with herself for the creeping jealous. She was cleaning to take her mind off of the distance she'd been feeling from both her lovers lately, but it didn't fill that hole she was feeling in her chest. Two arms wrapped around her waist and a chin settled in the crook of her neck as she reached up to grab a glass for some wine. Fareeha's scent surrounded her earning a soft sigh of content. She leaned her head back against Fareeha's shoulder as she stood there for a moment just taking in her warm embrace.

"What's on your mind habibti?" Fareeha asked pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.

"It's nothing. I just missed you both." She told her softly.

"We both know that's not the only reason you've been in here cleaning instead of cuddling with us on the couch amiga." Sombra chipped in as she hopped up onto the counter beside them.

"I love you both very much, but I guess I just feel like I've missed so much being away at the university. I don't want to be left behind." Angela told them both.

"We're not leaving you behind." Fareeha assured her as she turned Angela around to face her. "Why don't you let the cleaning up wait and come finish the movie with us?"

"You can even be the middle spoon." The hacker grinned before taking her hand and pulling Angela along with her to the living room. "I'll be the little spoon so you can see the movie. Fareeha's big head might block the screen." She teased earning herself an eye roll from the Security Chief.

"I would like that very much." Angela smiled before settling down on the couch with them. It made her heart feel full that they had taken notice that something was upsetting her, and were trying to rectify it. This was her family now, and she wouldn't trade it for the world.

Fin.

#overwatch #sombra x pharah #overwatch fic #pharah overwatch #security breach #sombra overwatch #sombrarah #sompharah #angela ziegler #pharbra #pharmercy #somercy #angel jet hack #sombra x pharah x mercy #pharah x mercy #mercy x sombra #fic friday

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purkinje-effect · 3 years

Text

Asking for Trouble

Cait gets a terrible first impression of Melancholy, my Sole.

This blurb has sat in my drafts for a few years now, and I decided to polish it up and finish the thought. Not sure if the encounter will be canon to Anatomy, but it’s here nonetheless. (For those curious to timeline placement, we’ll say this is roughly after the Park Street Station stuff in Fourth Instar, and sometime after his falling out with Mac.)

TWs: Heavy angst, injury and death, drug use and alcohol, explicit description of drug side effects, and violence-baiting.

Cross-posted on AO3 here if you’d rather. Likes, comments, kudos, etc. are all greatly, greatly appreciated.

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Someone at the Dugout Inn had mentioned this place. ‘Choly had come here with a vague recollection that the Combat Zone had once paraded skin. It only served to live up to its name now without any innuendo. Observing a little violence could be cathartic, too, and damn, if he couldn’t use some catharsis after his myriad missteps in Goodneighbor. All his life a spectator, vicarious in every regard.

He belonged here far before Goodneighbor or Diamond City, regardless of looking the part. Who could say a quavering, grey little man wearing a white three piece suit over head-to-toe leather orthotic braces didn’t fit right in among these earthly, physical misfits? He certainly couldn’t see any hackneyed political messes or territory wars erupting here: only people blowing off steam any way they could find it.

He couldn’t entirely say he minded that Angel’s compulsive cleaning habits almost always nettled the Hister Handy into picking up after social locations like this burlesque theater which now showcased cage fights. The possibility any of these raiders might hack it almost avoided him altogether, since he seemed like the only one with a Pip-Boy with which to do so. Such a worry would stick with him long-term after what he’d seen the Rust Devils do to Lowell.

His mind sang praises that Angel had allowed him to resume adding alkaloids to his meal replacement beverage, the Melancholia. Hubeine gave him negligible trouble compared to other options.

The fight unfolding before him was the billed spectacle for the night: for one hour, plus implicit encores, Cait would take down any body foolish enough to step foot into the cage to fistfight her unarmed. He swirled at some bourbon in a shot glass, from his bar seat to one side of the stage. His cataract eyes raised as he watched her continue through the athletic redhead’s performance. Somehow she managed restraint just shy of lethal blows, despite her precision and brute force. Any composure belied the depth of her murderous and bottomless rage. Glassy and lugubrious, he followed her bared teeth and retracted lips, her unblinking eyes, her adrenaline-wired and overworked musculature, her leaden instinctual footwork.

Despite having knocked out seven opponents in twenty minutes already, she wore more of their blood than they did.

In every mannerism, he recognized his enlisted in her. He stopped sipping at his liquor and threw the glass back, only to refill it.

Cait danced with the eighth opponent for about a minute before things escalated. The burly, hairy man pulled a switchblade on her, and managed to gouge her in the arm. In the physical sense, it didn’t faze her. In the mental sense, it had shattered the sanctity of her performance. She roared at him and lunged to sink her teeth into his face.

The crowd exploded. Her ghoul manager stepped in and attempted to stop the match-up, but he knew better than to get between her and the fool. She refused first aid, intent to fuck the guy up. The man kept his distance from her, knife still drawn, clutching at his gushing cheek. she voiced her displeasure to her manager, and he seemed to walk away and leave her again to her opponent... Only to bring her a baseball bat. A bloodied grin ripped across her face as she choked up on it like a familiar friend.

‘Choly smiled quaintly, head askew. The ghoul knew that the crowd demanded results--and more importantly, he knew that the crowd needed to see the consequences of forsaking what little honor they agreed upon in this dive.

She slugged him in the head. As he fell over, she proceeded to beat the shit out of him. The resultant din deafened much how ‘Choly might imagine Fenway Park during the World Series. Not that baseball had been his druthers. God, he wished that had been him on the receiving end. Between her hair, her leather corset, and the carnage, red was so very much her color. Head to toe, she was rage incarnate.

No one wanted to challenge her after that, especially not if they had to step around the bloody mess she’d splattered across the stage.

Time blurred a bit in ‘Choly’s shot glass. The next he looked up, he realized the champion sat beside him to drown herself in a fifth of vodka straight from the bottle. He straightened as coolly as he could, shifting to watch her. He adjusted his half-moon glasses, but could otherwise not obfuscate his alarm. He couldn’t leave alone the familiarity of the untethered ferocity with which she carried herself.

“Forgive me if this is forward of me, but I will get you any chems you want, if you will swear off cyclomorphine. The Psycho.”

“Bull shit,” came a potent Irish twang. She slammed down the bottle. Beneath the indignity in her glower, a tinge of fear felt more like the pressure of desperation. “You suggestin’ I couldn’t possibly fight as well as I do, weren’t I doped up? Your stupid mug hasn’t been here before. I’d remember. Who the hell do you think you are, to go around insultin’ the talent?”

His heart begged hot for her to retaliate. His gloved fingers tapped gingerly at the barely varnished countertop.

“I mean it. Name it. Med-X. Calmex. Anything but Psycho. I’ll even get dirty and brew you the most potent Jet you’ve ever had, if what you really need is escapism and not a low. CM isn’t a chem. It’s a death sentence. And... even if that’s the desired end result, that’s just about as gruesome and painful as it gets.”

She swiveled on the bar stool, resting both hands squarely on her spread knees. Her dead gaze bored through him.

“The fuck do you care so much about this wild theory of yours? You go around cold readin’ everybody’s vices tryin’ to hock your snake oil? Some salesman you are. You’ve got the Charisma of a Mirelurk egg that’s been in the sun.”

He raised his hands in defense, and then said what he meant sooner than meaning what he said.

“I’m not trying to sell you anything. I keep trying to offer solutions to the people I’ve hurt with my life choices, fix the damage rather than enterprise on it. Please let me get you chasing a different devil. Anything but that.”

“You’ve never met me in your life, and I don’t know your name or face from a Molerat in the floorboards. Don’t you try and bullshit me into believing you’re capable of fixing what ails me--and don’t you dare try to take credit for anyone that’s wronged me.”

“I’m the reason Psycho exists in the quantities it does in the Commonwealth. So yes, your pain IS my fault, at least part--”

His jaw seared. ‘Choly found himself sprawled in the floor. He felt around for his glasses, and as they returned to his face, he smiled up at her imploringly from where she stood over him. She cracked her knuckles sourly.

“I don’t have time for this nonsense. Tryin’ t’say I’m the one’s got a chem problem. What color is the sky for you? Forget you.”

Her hard exterior began to show signs of crumblign, in a series of stifled tics, most noticeably a corner of her mouth and the same ear. He could only begin to speculate to what exactly it was she’d taken exception, but he had to keep her attention, hold her contempt. Charm had never come naturally to him, so instead he had to sound the part of insisting at all costs that he was right.

“--Fine, you don’t want to quit. That’s a choice, too. I’ll make however much Psycho you want. You want to go out like that, I can help you with that. But I want you to know just exactly what that death looks like. Abscessed injection sites. Your gums and cuticles bleed. Your tear ducts bleed. It weakens all your capillaries, the tiniest blood vessels in your body. Internal bleeding. Organ deterioration. The numbness doesn’t turn off the pain--it only makes it so you don’t care. Is the anger easier than the hurt? If that’s how you want to go out, I’m not in any position to question it. But you might as well have an expert supplying you with it.”

Rather than help him up, she bore a heel down on his right hand. With an anxious chuckle, he winced, but welcomed being pinned in place. She glared down at him, seething. She didn’t want to hear another word from him, but she had to. Something about him surely sounded more deranged than intoxicated, and it threatened to haunt her.

“Do you know why cyclomorphine exists?” he continued, breath stuttering all the while. “Do you know what it is? Of course not. It was a prewar chemical--I can’t even comfortably endear it a chem--that the military developed so its soldiers no longer felt injury or fatigue. They endeavored to engineer soldiers who wouldn’t quit when hurt, even fatally. And it was only one of a dozen projects of its kind, to exploit the different aspects of human limits. Nothing human came from refining Psycho. It destroys something fundamental to a sense of humanity. The perfect formula didn’t concern itself with whether the patient came back in one piece, or alive at all. The Deenwood Project wasn’t poetic, wasn’t artistic, didn’t make a single beautiful thing. The fact that CM fell into paramilitary use after my tenure ended with the Army... and the fact it now as a result flows freely throughout the country as holdovers from... from the police attempting to keep the peace through intense and consistent violence... The fact is, I’m one of the chemists responsible for cyclomorphine’s end product. Responsible for it being one of the devices of America’s victory at Anchorage... So yes, yes I am. Responsible for what ails you. You’re civilian collateral of the United States Army.”

Her posture shifted slowly from anger to bitterness. She ground her heel into his palm. He pretended the token of her grief got through the reinforced officer’s glove.

“It’s not my place to question the source of your pain, and it’s not my place to insist that I be the one to take it away. I simply know that no matter how great the pain you’re in... Psycho dissolves parts of you, every time you use it to numb you. It begins physically, then advances to spiritually. It robs you of who you are.”

“That’s just the thing. I can’t handle bein’ me. This is the only part I’m fit to play. Besides, Tommy only cares if his juggernaut brings in the caps. I’m beholden to a contract. And the way I see it, you’re tryin’ to come between a man and his money, pokin’ around where your nose doesn’t belong! You’re lucky we’re out here and not in the cage, creep. Either I’m paid to beat your arse, or you’re askin’ to get blackballed.”

He sighed dreamily up at her, almost regretting that she let up on his hand. She drew her fists when his hand went to the lining pocket of his vest, but he chuckled producing a sack of caps.

“I thought you’d never ask. I admire one who rests their agency in someone else’s hands--or pockets, as it were. Surely, this is to the tune of you doing the honors. Add a black eye to the busted jaw. Tack on whatever you like. Ladies’ choice.”

She snatched the sack from him, frowning incredulously.

“What kind of sick flirting game is this? You tryin’ to buy me into bed? I know I’m easy on the eyes, but this isn’t a brothel these days, in case your damaged brain can’t tell the difference.”

He knew he wouldn’t be getting back the sack, but at least he’d tricked her into accepting some fleck of reparations from him.

“How many caps would it take to break your contract? To get you out of here?”

A broken sarcastic laugh crackled out of her. He’d long since surpassed overstepping, having moved on to stepping on toes.

“You’re insane if you think I’d ever want to leave the Combat Zone, especially not on the arm of the likes of you. I’ve got everything I could want here--except right now, not a place without you. You’re the one who needs to lay off the chems. Get your stupid brain-damaged arse out of here before I ask Tommy what I can do with you.”

He whistled for Angel, then retrieved his cane to stand.

“I suppose if you won’t let me help you, obliging you is the least I can do.”

With his Handy by his side, the two left without further question.

On his walk back to Hotel Rexford, he accepted that he’d probably never know the answer, but still he wondered if he had the same or opposite trouble as Cait: Were the two chasing a perpetual numbness, or were they chasing the futility of trying to feel anything again, at any cost?

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout cait #cait fallout #sole survivor #combat zone #melancholy #deplorable karma sole survivor #battle for anchorage #psycho #whump

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