#i think the guy was like an undercover spy or something and he managed to take something valuable from taffy cause. boy pretty

[losingmymarbelles]

more of my doodles from school FEATURINGGGGG my ocs that i’ve never talked about and also some random designs i drew bc school is boring 👍

[sinon36]

Ghost x undercover!reader (HC) Part I

Warnings: torture, blood, pain, unconscious Ghost and basically kinda useless, really capable YOU persona ;), rushed writing, possible mistakes, reader is pretty neutral so far

P.S. Don’t judge the unexplained inconsistency of how a guy like Ghost gets captured, but spy you get to waltz around unbothered, yeah, you’re that good, so good you got plot armour. Besos!   

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

- the first time you meet it's messy. He's supposed to extract an agent from behind enemy lines but instead he gets captured

-  you pose as a computer science PhD who is in charge of the enemy base cyber security, when in reality you're there to install a backdoor with remote access.

- you know someone should come to help make your exit, but when no infiltration is reported panic starts to rise in your chest

- you start investigating, searching through the facility trying to find out if something happened.

- you gain access to a part of the facility you don't have clearance for.

- you stumble upon a gruesome scene in one of the holding cell in the underground levels

- you find a man tied to the ceiling, bare feet barely touching the floor, muscles stretching under the tension ready to snap

- a black hood is thrown over his head and he's shirtless, remnants of once black cargo pants hang on his hips.

- he was tortured, for days by looks of it

- you know enough about that to know that he hasn't cracked yet, otherwise he'd be dead not hanging there in the damp cold cell.

- you take your chances and take the hood off

- he groggily turns his head to look down at you, he’s a big that much you can say

- blonde whisps of hair matted to his scalp stained a dark red, pale skin the same blood oozing from small cuts on his cheeks dripping down on his pectorals. From behind black and blue and inflammation two brown eyes scan your face

- 'the wolf walks alone' you quietly utter the code phrase for identity verification

- he watches you like an owl watches a mouse with cautious patience but he gives no indication that he'll answer

- you can't stay there too long; someone might catch you here or someone could report that you never came back from the bathroom break

- you reach for the hood to place it back on the prisoner’s head, knowing that you can't do anything for him and in this state he can't even provide a distraction for you to slip out unnoticed

-as you get closer tiptoeing to reach above his head he grunts, you stop in your tracks making eye contact

- his dried and busted lips start to quiver you wait for a moment giving him a chance to prove you wrong

- 'But the pack's got its back...' he draws out in a deep guttural voice laced with a thick Manchester accent

- phrase matching your own, you get to work hastily finding a way to get him down

- as you unlock the chains wounded around his wrists you try to support his weight which proves impossible

- you barely manage to break his fall turning yourself in a cushion under his massive form

- you huff and try to pull him up ' I can't carry you' you mutter to him. 'You gotta get up, soldier' you try and nudge him, you slip and talk in the familiar British accent

- he stalls, taking in deep breaths trying to surpass the pain and ache, multiple bones broken, muscles tumefied, and skin bearing to many cuts and bruises. Blood covers him like a deathly veil

- he tries and with your help he manages to stand but he can barely walk on his own, he can barely see, he can barely think, having sustained multiple concussions

- with great difficulty you get moving, praying to yourself that the guard might be gone, taking a piss or having a smoke

- your prayers are answered, no one is on the otherwise busy hallways this late at night, many having called it a night going back to their rooms

- as you pass the med bay your quick thinking finds a credible disguise: you steal a lab coat and a doctor's key card, some glasses that make your vision blurry once you put them on, and get the wounded soldier in a wheel chair

-he huffs but you can clearly see the relief overtaking him as he no longer has to stand

-you throw a medical gown over him concealing the dried blood on his bare torso

-once you clean his face a little and bandage his whole head to cover his identity, you grab a few bottles of morphine and a med kit for later and push the wheelchair out the door

- you aim for the underground parking lot, where civilians’ workers such as your cover, keep their personal cars

-you hope that the sentinels stationed at the gates won't look too closely at your backseat as you carefully push the wounded man in the car

- everything goes smooth from there, the guards wishing you a good night, no questions ask as to your departure from the base

- once you get farther away you start speeding eyeing for any police cars that might stop you or any military vehicle that might chase you

- to your dumb surprise no one follows you the mountain road dark and deserted

- you head to your safehouse where you have stashed money, fake id's, a new disguise and another car.

- once you change everything and make sure that the soldier still breathes in the back of the SUV, after you've administered some first help giving him the relief of morphine, you burn everything down

- the wooden house the other car, everything, nothing can be left behind to be tracked to you or to the MI6, you have taken precautions that borderline OCD, but you know that you have to be through, no detail to small

- once you're back on the road you contact your handler, a tired voice but you can hear the sound of relief as he hears your voice

- he's pleased that everything went smooth, no alarm was triggered, no shot was fired, no chase happened and you even managed to save your would-be saviour, sent specifically to get you out of that den of wolves

- you announce your E.T.A. to the agreed pickup location and you are annoyed to hear you'll have to wait a bit, your nerves are starting to fray, and body to tire

- you don't have the manpower nor the firepower to make a stand in the woods until the heli gets there

-but you do as you're told, as always

- you grab the pistol you keep under the passenger seat and place it in your lap; the heaviness in your lap gives very little reassurance

- but not long passes and you can hear the lovely sound of an Apache helicopter

- in a whirlwind of dust and voices shouting out instructions both you and the soldier are placed in the metal beast's bowls

-you inform the medics of the dosage of morphine you gave to the soldier as they start hooking him to machines that monitor his vital signs

-you don't even know his name and he definitely doesn't know yours as per protocol, and you doubt you'll ever see him again

-you won't even be there when he'll wake up, he'll probably never know of your act of kindness; you could have left him behind but instead you risked your safety for his

- any other agent would've done it, but not you, you couldn't leave one of your own behind

- you still hold your breath, eager to cross the border and get back to HQ where meetings and debriefs will be held, and rapports will be written then redacted

-you expect the compliments at a job well done and the proud pats on the back from your superiors, even though for you that's just a show

- you know you will get a free month at best to recover and then you'll be shipped somewhere else to do it all over again

- it's a lonely life, and full of danger but it makes you sleep better at night knowing you helped soil some plans that could be used to hurt innocents

- once the pilot announces that you crossed the borders you slightly relax on the padded bench, closing your eyes in relief but not allowing yourself to fall asleep yet

- when you feel the heli dipping down towards the tarmac you open your eyes eager to get off the noisy thing and looking forward for some commodities you know wait ready inside the base

- you watch as the soldier gets rolled toward the med bay and you get pulled by a Sargent that informs you, he's there to take you to the commander of the base

- you'd hopped to at least get a few hours of sleep before the rounds of interrogations start, but the higher-ups are hungry for the confirmation of a successful mission

- you trudge behind the Sargent mentally preparing for the onslaught of questions and can't help but wonder what of the wounded soldier

-you subconsciously hope he'll pull through

Next part here.

[laduenadelswing]

Love Game Vox fan fiction

Chapter 4

“Let’s do more trust exercises.” Charlie exclaimed, shockingly, no one was excited about that. “Can't we do something fun?” Angle asked. “You want to become a better person or not?” Vaggie spat back. Her eyes glancing at Angle before fixating on you. Something is wrong with her, Isabel thought. So they obeyed Charlies demand and did some trust exercises. After that Angle went back to his “workplace” Whatever that is, Isabel was too afraid to ask.

Husked kept an eye on Nifti who was cleaning the hotel. Pentious and you didn’t have any work to do and decided to help Alastor. Even though Alastor could probably do all the work better if they left him alone, she still enjoyed the company. “Vaggie wants to share the TV Spot we made a couple of weeks ago.” He kept on smiling. “Sounds like a plan.” Isabel replied, thinking about last night, did he really want to kiss her or was she just projecting her desires? “What a show. Now that’s entertainment.” Alastor laughed. “How do you want to get it into TV?” Angle asked. Isabel could ask Vox, but that’s no option right now. “Vox ain't an option.” Angle's accent underlined their precarious situation. Sir Pentious shivered, “Oh no, don't. No Vox, please.” He exclaimed with a dramatic undertone. Angle rolled his eyes, his spider like arms held Pentious. “The almighty V’s will kill me next time.” Pentious couldn’t stop shivering, even his egg boys hid behind him. “Who?” Isabel asked confused.

“The V’s, Vox, Valentino, and Velvet. Together they rule of media, technology, and communication. Valentino employed every whore around town and has a temper. Velvet a producer and social media expert is a young overlord but with her knowledge and the internet she managed to join them, she is a handful. Vox is the working force behind it, controlling the media, he is a businessman like no one has ever seen. Together, they almost bet Alastor seven years ago.” In this second radio noises appeared and Alastor glitched “Vox could never beat me.” He explained with a dark undertone, his stature changed and became increasingly more intimidating, his eyes tinted red. “Also… Vox told Pentious to kill himself when he couldn’t manage to be an undercover spy.” Isabel couldn’t believe what Husk told her. Was Vox really so bad? I mean, he is in hell after all, Isabel thought. “So, you say that Vox is the worst of them?” She asked. “No definitely Valentino, his boy toy, Vox cares too much about his public image. Business is business, after all.” Isabel nodded, “I can understand that, once you're in the public eye no one cares that you're normal. They want absolute perfection or drama. There is no place for normality.” She explained. The demons gave a confused look. “Sorry, my life was very public until I came here. It's refreshing to be relatively unknown.” “Don’t tell me you're also a porn star.” Angle asked sassy as always. Alastor looked at her amused. “No, no.  I was a bit of everything but mostly a singer.” A porn star? That’s hilarious, Isabel thought. “Pentious, I am very sorry. That guy probably just jabbered. Your great.” Isabel winked at the snake like demon. His slimy arms wrapped around her body. “Thank you.” He whispered, as guilt began to crawl up inside her. The hours continued, and the guilt grew bigger every second. At night, she left the hotel. Maybe they're wrong, she should talk to Vox.

As soon as she put some distance between her and the hotel, Vox appeared. “Isabel, nice to see you.” He smiled as she looked to the floor. Vox noticed that something was off. Possibly he shouldn’t let her back to the hotel. They went into his flat. Vox was incredibly nervous in her present, afraid of losing his shot. She was really quite all the time, not her usual self. “I really don't know what's going on with you today. You look sad.” He asked her, they sat on a huge couch, she stared at the popcorn in front of her. “Is Valentino your boy toy? Did you tell Pentious to kill himself?” She whispered and couldn't look at the screen. He raised a brow. “Do you really care about stuff like that, HAHA!” He put on his best PR smile. She looked back, the sadness in her eyes was visible. “ Val and I have the same goals and a very tumultuous past. I admit that I am attracted to demons of any Gender. But Val's obsession with Angle dust ruins any chance to have a relationship.” Isabel still wasn’t convinced. “You have seen him. I really can't handle his erratic behavior in a serious relationship.” She raised a brow. “ I don't see what you see in Valentino, he seems like a lot. But the things you said to Pentious are worse.” Vox was confused. “ You really care about those demons? They are scum, trash on the street.” Vox's voice glitched and deepened.

“Oh really? They seem really nice and hardworking! They let me stay without any hesitation. Yes, they are a handful, but they have good hearts. ” A hint of anger tinted her voice. “ That’s all you found out?” He asked, on the one hand he was a little annoyed that his plan wasn’t working out as he expected, on the other hand he wanted to keep her around. She was his latest obsession, his everything. “That’s all. Maybe I stop spying on them. There is nothing going on.” She was boiling, still quite but boiling. If Vox was more like Valentino, he would have killed her for her rebellion. Vox couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her. “Maybe I should go.” She whispered, looked back.  “Don’t please. I know, hearing that is shitty, and I want to tell you that I am not like that. But I said it and can't take it back.” Isabel sighted. "I know Vox. So sad to hear. They are great. I know you hate Alastor, but this has nothing to do with the rest of them.” She explained.

“Oh really? They are demons, they are here for a reason.” Vox explained calmly. Confusion crawled over her face. “You’re here too, actually, you don’t seem bad after all.” She gave him a small smile which made his heart jump. It's so refreshing to see someone believe in him. “The real Vox behind the public mask isn’t so bad, he is a pretty likeable guy, just like Pentious.” She poked him with her shoulder. “Wouldn’t hurt apologizing. Or do something nice for them.” She mumbled. “I think I need some time and sleep.” Vox took her to the hotel defeated, planning how he could make things right.

Making things right for a human? A small little toy? Vox, you're pathetic, Vox thought.

When the hotel door closed she expected to see someone but no one was there. She went to her room, all the emotions overwhelmed her until she was crying. A knocking on the door helped her get back into reality,  “Dear. Please, what's going on?” It was Alastor. She opened the door. His smile lid up the room for a second. “What makes you so sad?” He asked. Today must have been the day of plot twist. Isabel never expected Alastor to be compassionate. “Had a hard day, and you? A friend treated some other friends poorly, I miss home and do not know what to do?” She sopped and turned her face away. “Oh dear, let's go outside, I give you a tour, and you will feel better afterward.” He smiled and confused her even more. She followed him, they went through the city, and you couldn’t help feeling watched. She felt secure in his presence. Some demons performed on the street. They watched them amused. “Are you a singer?” Alastor asked her directly. “I used to sing a lot.” Isabel confessed. Demons kept dancing in the street, as Alastor took her arm and spun her around, she began laughing. “Sing for us.” Alastor asked as his voice deepened, and he watched her with a dark, predatory hint in his facial expression. “Promise me that no one except those souls will see it? “Alastor nodded and gave her his microphone. Vox couldn't believe the images he saw on the screens, he was very angry until he heard her singing. He had never heard something as beautiful. She was greater than god, you could question god but questioning her talent was impossible.

It was the most beautiful thing he ever heard in his mortal and immortal life. He threw one of his mugs into the screen. Vox wanted to resist the temptation but spawned close by the scene. Alastor who couldn't hide his excitement for this entertainment also couldn’t ignore the presence of his old pal.

Author's note: Thank you so much for reading. I hope you liked it. I feel very bad lately, this keeps me happy/ busy.

[ridiasfangirlings]

fushimi going undercover for something minor and having to wear the most awful, most obvious wig with no glasses as a last resort and even though everyone else can immediately know who it is yata has no idea

(inspired by drew_talbert on tiktok creator of bistro huddy<3 )

Yata being like huh who is this strange man and it takes every ounce of Fushimi’s self control not to blow his cover and berate Yata for being an idiot. Imagine Fushimi has to go undercover to like spy on this Strain who always has business meetings at a fancy restaurant. This is intended to be an intelligence mission, not combat, Fushimi will bug the attendees of the meeting and then sit at his table and listen in. Of course since he’s a known member of S4 he needs to be undercover for this, unfortunately S4 happens to be a little low on disguises (Fushimi ruined all the dresses after the last mission) so the best they can manage is the absolute worst blond wig in existence and some ugly color contacts that are vaguely close to his prescription, along with like a very conspicuous trench coat. Imagine Fushimi looking at himself in the mirror after being dressed up, looking like he has a dead cat on his head, and being like this is the stupidest thing you idiots have ever asked me to do. 

He’s sent to infiltrate the restaurant and imagine on his way in he sees Doumyouji, who was running an errand in the same area, and who’s immediately like oh hi Fushimi-san even though he was told nothing at all about this mission. Fushimi irritably shushes him and Doumyouji wonders why the wig, like oh did you want to try coloring your hair. Fushimi grumbles that he’s undercover and is like not one word about the wig, Doumyouji senses murder in the air and is like right yes sir. Fushimi gets into the restaurant, getting very weird looks from a confused front of the house guy as he’s led to his table, and manages to get the bug in place as well. He settles down to listen in when a waiter shows up and asks him what he’d like to drink.

Fushimi looks up and finds himself face to face with Yata, who’s working part time as a waiter at the restaurant. Normally this would be a good thing for Fushimi but he has work to do so he scowls and is like don’t you say a word, Yata’s like uh excuse me sir because he just asked if the guy wanted drinks. Fushimi gives him a flat look like you’re going to ruin everything you idiot and Yata’s like hey don’t call me an idiot before quickly shutting his mouth and coughing all uh I mean don’t call me an idiot ‘sir,’ I’m just a waiter. Fushimi looks at him blankly like you….really don’t know who I am and Yata’s like wait are you a celebrity. Fushimi internally facepalms and orders a water.

Fushimi tries to continue the mission and imagine him so torn between completing his mission properly and trying to get Yata to realize who he is. Like he knows it’s best for his mission that Misaki is an idiot but also how dare Misaki not know it’s him, Fushimi’s a traitor and Yata should be thinking of him all the time and hating him and recognizing him in stupid costumes. Imagine he keeps doing things that should tip Yata off to his identity, like after he finishes his water he starts ordering meat dishes plain with no sauce or dishes with lots of vegetables and demanding all the veggies taken out, he orders some milk and drinks the entire glass while Yata is just standing there staring. Eventually I imagine as soon as his target finishes their meeting and leaves Fushimi gives this heavy sigh and immediately orders another dish all ‘and be quick this time, Misaki.’ Yata’s all wait how do you know my name and then suddenly he finally figures it out and is like ‘Saruhiko!’. Fushimi throws off the wig with a wide grin and goads Yata into going outside for a fight, Yata can’t believe that Fushimi stalked him here in disguise and Fushimi’s like it’s your fault for being so stupid you couldn’t figure it out. (Later he returns to the office with his wig destroyed, contacts missing and clothes all messed up and everyone’s wondering how he managed to get so roughed up on a non-combat mission.)

[oldsargasso]

WinnerDean spy AU?

thank youuuu I love you 🥺 sorry for taking days to answer lol I have been. so sick.

five VERY LONG facts...honestly this is just a story outline at this point. TW for violence

the first time they meet it's because Dean's been sent on his first solo mission, instead of Babe or Way getting it done. and he's so proud of himself - finally Alan has recognised how hard he's been working! sure it's not like Babe (currently holed up at home with a broken leg) or Way (currently undercover as a high-end ~companion) could have been sent anyway...still. Dean was the one Alan pulled from the team and sent out into the field all on his own. and he's going a great job---bypasses all the security measures, is in the CEO's office with his password being cracked as Dean pokes around the desk drawers---when the door opens and the number 1 ranked agent at X Hunter's rival agency saunters in.

2. Winner had incredible scores throughout his stint at the academy. But X Hunter has some more avant garde recruitment practices and Winner's not bitter about it at all. Working at RDR means he stays number one, big fish in a small pond kind of thing. His talents are being wasted looking after the very lucrative contract Tony's hired them on for; officially it's "locating and correcting weaknesses in the security framework" but it's really corporate espionage. and it's boring as hell. Winner hates it. why become a spy if not to go around guns blazing and driving dangerously and seducing hot targets? turns out there's a lot more paperwork and sending phishing emails and standing around waiting for people to leave their office in actuality. that is, until Winner makes the usual midnight loop around the top-floor offices and finds something very interesting. (Winner's a little miffed that X Hunter didn't even bother sending their top agent for this job.)

3. Tony offers Alan a deal: give Tony Babe, and Dean gets released with nary a scratch.

Alan doesn't take the deal.

Winner doesn't care, about the deal or Babe or the way Tony's aide keeps hovering around like he wants to say something and definitely not about the pretty agent he captured. But he DOES care that Tony has his own guys doing the interrogation. Like why even hire Winner and his agency if not for something exactly like this? So he hacks into the security feed and finds Tony's guys aren't even asking questions. It's like they're just ...playing almost, landing blows all over the agent's body while his arms are held so he can't protect himself, both eyes blackened and blood dripping to the floor from his torn-up mouth. And Winner notices someone else in the system too. They've covered their tracks very well---unfortunately for North there's only a handful of people that can cover their tracks like that. It pisses Winner off: any good agency would have gotten their guy out, or at least gotten him a bullet---instead X Hunter is just watching? Listening to the sounds of Dean gasping for breath after another interminable minute of being held underwater? Winner kicks North out of the system and patches the weak point and decides to cater to his own particular moral code.

4. Dean doesn't break. He doesn't talk. He clings to the hope of getting out (and then he hopes for it to end). He repeats to himself that Alan wouldn't have left him here if he didn't think Dean could handle it. Alan has faith in Dean so Dean will have faith in Alan. And he manages to keep it up for a few days, or maybe a week---the only way of tracking time is the comings and goings of Tony's guys, and Dean's not sure they have a set schedule. He hurts all over. There's no position he can sleep in that doesn't have his ribs screaming at him, and the comments from Tony's men have started to get very pointed in a way that has his skin crawling. Dean knows the protocol, and he should have gotten at least a message by now. It's easier then, to give up a little, and let his anger and bitterness turn to apathy and carry him through.

5. Winner's favourite thing about being a spy? The vast array of beautiful guns he has access to. He was top of his class when it came to shooting, and taking out five guys before any of them manage to fire back is barely enough to spark any satisfaction. Dean doesn't answer when Winner asks if he can walk, so Winner just slings him over one shoulder and makes his leisurely way out. He's planted enough explosives around Tony's estate that every man is going to be completely occupied elsewhere.

He does run into Kenta on his way to the exit---Winner doesn't shoot, because the guy is armed with a knife and that's not a fair fight---and Kenta just nods at him, like. with approval. Weird guy, but probably has to be to have worked for Tony for so long.

And then when Winner makes it to the garage North and Sonic are waiting there? with a guy Winner distinctly remembers seeing tied up in Tony's office a few weeks ago. And they just take Dean from him and drive away??

So Winner goes back inside and shoots a few more people. He finds Tony's body, and Kenta kneeled next to it, and is like "well I have an empty seat in my car now..." and then they drive away.

(bonus fun fact is that Babe and Charlie are having a whole Mr and Mrs Smith AU thing going on in the background)

[princess-of-the-corner]

Amnesia!Dabi: Honestly, how do you think the rest of the LoV would take Dabi's "betrayal"? Like, are we going CC, & Dabi eventually takes half in the divorce? Do they understand his reasoning but stay put? Are they mad at him, think he overreacted? Heck, do they think he infiltrated the heroes, & he might still be on their side? (Is this still Dabi/Hawks? How do they meet if Dabi isn’t Hawks's contact?)

Some of this might depend on if Dabi told them the amnesia story. I think he would, partly from starting to trust the group and partly because his whole reason for joining really boils down to trying to find himself, and he'd need to tell them so they can look for leads.

It might be a while before they find out that Toya jumped ship.

Like they know that Dabi and Himiko don't manage to meet up with them. They hope they got away, but know there's a chance they got caught and arrested.

But it'd be weird because they'd expect to hear about the arrest in the news, but the news still says they're both at large. In reality it's being kept quiet because Himiko is a child and they're sorting out Dabi's situation.

The first they'd probably hear is that eventually a news story breaks about Toya being found, so if his face is in the news they go ????. At first they'd assume he was spying on them and that the amnesia was a lie, but then the news reports that Toya still has the amnesia. So they guess that he probably remembered enough to be able to go home and..... well. They can't fault a guy for wanting to go back to his family instead of being /here/

(a lot of them are kinda..... they'd like to jump ship because they're starting to realize that AfO is Real Damn Bad™ and not just the 'gotta break some laws to make change' type of thing they were promised at first. But they're attached to each other and don't have anywhere safer to go, and are still hopeful on the 'we can change society by doing this')

That said.... they are still a bit concerned for him. Dabi did show trauma responses that were still intact despite the lack of memory. He might be somewhere technically 'safer' than the League, but they don't know if this is what's going on. (They also don't know /who/ hurt him, just that he was hurt, and they def don't know that the family's been getting better).

They don't get an update on Himiko for a while, but they can't imagine Dabi abandoning her. So they figure he probably took the chance that he'd be able to protect her while getting her help. That's kinda confirmed because the whole case with her parents also makes the news of how her parents are being arrested for how they treated her and that most of the charges against Himiko are being cleared in a 'she was literally fighting for her life' kinda way.

I think in the long run we'd end up in something similar to the 'Toya takes the league in the divorce' but I do want things to be a bit more different in this AU so I think maybe one by one the members jump ship from the main group and kinda. They manage to stay in contact with one another and come back to help Deal With Shit™ but they're not around as much. Obvs Shigaraki would be the one that stays, due to the *gestures at his whole thing* but I think even he starts to get to a point where he thinks things might be fucked and the only reason he hasn't jumped ship somehow is because AfO would hunt him down if he did.

Re: Hawks

While I like the romance, I think I'll hold off on it for a bit. Toya really needs to work on his situation and recovering more of himself. And while I /am/ a sucker for these two being a hot mess bad idea that shouldn't work but somehow does... I really do think this time around, especially with the support network, they'd step back from that. They do interact plenty given that Hawks is low-key being dragged into the family too, but this would be more slowburn(ha!).

Hawks would still be ordered to go undercover with the LoV but.... well. The League kinda catches on from the beginning that he's probably there to spy on them. But they don't care because Hawks is access to Dabi and Himiko and being able to check on them.

I think Hawks would also be aware that they know he's a spy and they all just kinda. Talk around it.

[paarthurnax59]

"Soul Of Liberty"

Chapter 4

Warning: angst and Swearing 

note: readers dress

      By a miracle or the grace of Chuck, Dean managed to get into the building by showing his fake badge. Yeah, he knew a guy in New York that can forge good fake IDs. He quickly went to one of the custodian closets and changed into a tux and stuffed the rest of his stuff into his duffle bag. He slicked back his hair and looked at the mirror, knowing he looked decent enough to pass as a guest. 

"Now or never, Winchester." He said as he left the closet and checked to see if anyone was around. He walked up the stairs to where party was being held. He found where the large crowd of well-dressed right people walking into one of the largest rooms in the museum. He stood straight and act as if he was part of the rich crowd. It was easy to act like a stuck-up wealthy bastard after all the times that he and Sam had to go undercover for a case. He grabs a glass of champagne when he was offered and shooed away the waiter. He stuck to the shadows as the party was lively. With a classic band playing and laying a lot mix of jazz and blues playing. Finest food being served and bright lights shining the entire ballroom. He scanned the room to try and find his target when a voice appeared behind him.

"Looking for something, tiger?" Said a feminine voice that made him turn around, now seeing a beautiful red-haired woman in a red silk gown that made him think that he was looking at a real-life version of Jessica Rabbit. He took a good look at the woman and realized that this was none other than Natasha Romanoff, Also known as Black Widow. The Avengers' best infiltrator and spy and former assassin. 

'Oh shit.'

'Told you this wasn't a good idea.'

'Shut up! Do you ever stop talking?!'

"No, not really just watching." Dean replied and hoping that she would leave him be. He knows for a fact that Natasha was a spy and could read him like a book given enough time. He doesn't need to have his cover blown and ruin his plans. 

"I see, just enjoying the Perks of being a Wallflower, handsome?" She flirted and Dean smiles back at the woman. If he weren't about to expose one of her teammates to her, He would have enjoyed the attention he was giving Natasha. 

"So far, I am, gorgeous." He flirted back.

"The name is Natasha, Natasha Romanoff." She sticks out her hand and for Dean to grab and shake it. Dean offers her his hand in return.

"Clark Harrison, pleased to meet you." He gave her a fake that he often used for cases shook her hand with a little bit of hesitation. 'Dean, relax don't blow your cover.' Dean then let's go of Natasha's hand and draw his attention back to the dance floor. 

"Well, Clark. You want to dance?" Natasha offered and Dean took her hand as they both walked to the dance floor. The two danced for a while as Dean continued to search the room for (Name). 

"So, Clark. What made you come all the way to New York? Business? Pleasure?" asked the red-haired woman while Dean glanced around the room for (Name). 

"A bit of both, actually." Dean admitted. He saw (Name) and some what they would call in the hunting world, 'unfinished business' and believe him what he's planning on doing would bring him a lot of pleasure.

"Guess you can find a bit of both I suppose?" Dean continued to look around the room in search of his target. He's got to act quick, or his cover is going to be blown. Suddenly, the music stops, and everyone turned to the stage of the event. 

"Excuse me. Excuse me everyone!" Said the familiar voice of Tony Stark everyone focused their eyes on where the ostentatious billionaire was speaking from. He was wearing a classic black and white tuxedo and standing where the band was playing. "First of all, I like to thank everyone for coming tonight to help raise funds to benefit aiding people around the world effective by hungry and poverty. Your donations will help greatly to those effected by war and disaster and we cannot thank you enough. And I speak for all of us when I say this The Avengers thank you for your aid." He raised his glass and the rest of the crowd followed. "However, that's not the reason that I am up here! I know this is charity event, but I honestly just couldn't help myself! It has come to my attention that we have a birthday today and had to take the opportunity to embarrass her for it. I'm her uncle Tony after all." the. They crowd cheered with their wine glasses in the air, for the soon to be revealed birthday boy or girl. "I would like for this said person to come right up and let us sing in celebration of the day that she came out the birth cannel." Tony said and people chuckled at his inappropriate joke and other's just shook their heads. Dean looked around the room, still trying to look for his ex-wife. 

And speaking of the devil and she appears. 

"(Name) (Last name)! Come on down, Game of Thrones! and say a few words!" Tony exclaimed and then the stage shined on Dean's left direction and saw (Name) shining right in the middle of the dance floor with Steve with his arm around his shoulder, trying so hard to hide her face from embarrassment by cover her face in Steve's chest. Dean watches her shake her head probably saying she don't want to go up there. Which is rich considering what an attention whore she really was. She couldn't stand not having Dean's attention for one second and make him drop everything just to spend time with her.

She tried to run away but sudden a large, blonde-haired man, who Dean recognized as Thor picking her up while laughing his ass off throwing her on his shoulders. The Thunder god he carried her to the stage with Steve laughing seeing his girlfriend being carried like a sack of flour as Wanda and Vision stood next him. Dean quickly slicked away from Natasha as her eyes were on (Name) being carried to the stage and smiling. Dean scowled while looking at Black Widow clapping for his ex-wife.

'Let's see how long you'll be clapping when I'm done, Ms. Romanoff.' Dean thought as he slips away into the shadows in order to get to (Name). he just had to stick to the shadows and remain hidden from sight, until he can get (Name) lone and confront her. 

Thor Finally reached the top of the stage with (Name) and plopped her next to Tony as the stoplight shined on the two of them. Tony then gave her the mic and hugged her muttered a happy birthday to her. (Name) took a deep breath and raised the mic closer to her glossed lips and smiled.

"Thanks, Uncle Tony." She chuckled now zoning her eyes onto the audience of the wealthy and power looking at her. "First, again. Thanks so much for your donations and generosity for helping the needy and less fortunate around the world. I can't tell you how much this means to me. Personally, I mean." She said as the crowd listen intently of what the heroin was saying while Dean just zoned out, only waiting for her to get off stage. He doesn't need to be hearing her empty of words of fake empathy. "As someone that had grown up in an orphanage, I didn't have anything. No home, no parents, no family-"

"No heart? No Conscious? Or a human soul?" Dean muttered under his breath as he heard (Name)'s speech. Boy, did he want to gag at her being so fake. Yes, it's true she grew up with nothing, and did not have an easy life by any means. However, Dean and Sam were the ones that took her in and gave her his heart wholeheartedly and she stomped on it. He gave her a home and a family, though it wasn't a literal home. Living in a new motel every week or having to sleep in the Impala wasn't exactly appealing or even stable. At one point, he wanted to stop hunting and just build a life with her. Have a home together and have a family. But she ruined it, no! She demolished it. Now, she was trying to do the same to the Avengers and to her beloved Captain. All because she wanted to live out some insane fantasy of being America's sweetheart and the arm candy of Captain America. Just so that she can be the one on top after their divorce. 

"It was hard. Really hard not knowing who you really were. nothing but a name. I was just dumped on the doorsteps of some orphanage in Kansas. No, I can assure you that I am not Superman or anything. Though, being able to fly would make my job so much easier." She jested as the crowd chuckled and laughed at her reference to pop culture. Dean for some reason thought that last bit was quite funny and smirked. "But the worst part of that was how alone I was and how lost I was. The only real family I had was with my best friend who I grew up with in the orphanage. She had passed on when we were in college at Duke at nineteen and I ended up dropping out. Sense then, my life was a mess, and I didn't think I could ever come back from it. Until I met Steve Rogers and the rest of the Avengers." She continued and Dean could swear he saw Steve blushing at him mention. Dean again felt like he wanted to vomit. "I have usually kept a lot of my past a secret, that is well known. Only my teammates know the full extent of it. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Not all of it, sweetheart." Dean whispered, knowing full well there is no way that she had told them about her life as a hunter (and a terrible one at that) and was also married to him and cheated on him.

"So, at my lowest point, I had met Steve and he basically became my rock and my center for the foundation of my recovery. He was the first to take a chance on me, to train me and has not left my side sense. Many accuse us of being long lost twins at birth. I mean do I look like a hundred-year-old plus woman to these people?" The crowd burst into laughter at another joke. "But, seriously. All I want to say is that even though I love everyone on the team, I would not be here today celebrating another birthday, without that old geezer down there. I wouldn't be who I am today without you. All of you. I love you and I'm proud to call you family." (Name) then ends her speech by hold a flute glass up in the air with the mic still in her hands. "Cheers, to friends, family and second chances." 

"CHEERS!" The crowd hailed as they drink from their glasses. Dean then drinks from his own to not draw attention and blend in. He placed the glass on a nearby table and moved a bit closer to the stage. He noticed that (Name) was about the exit the stage giving Dean a chance to corner her. When suddenly Tony came back up and grabbed the mic from her and spoke once more. He really wished he would be able to punch Tony right now. 

"Lovely speech, Game of Thrones. Really touched my robotic heart. However, before you all go back to dancing, I just want to give one last opportunity to humiliate my girl just a little bit more. Bring it out, Stann!" Tony exclaimed and an old white guy in dark glasses in a waiter's uniform came out with a large delicious looking chocolate cake with the amount of candles that matched (Name)'s age. Dean watches as she hugged the man that delivered the cake and the old man hugged (Name) and muttered a happy birthday to her. "Alright! On my mark! One. Two. Three!" The crowd began to sing "Happy Birthday" to (Name), making Dean think back to the time that he and (Name) celebrated her birthday together as married couple for the first time. 

"Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. As good as this cake looks, it's still not going to be as sweet as you." He said as he held out the cake to her and she gave him the biggest smile.

"Oh, Dean. You didn't have to do that." She muttered softly as her eyes lite up after her husband had took the time to make her a cake.

"Yes, I do, (Name). I love you and I wanted to show that everyday for the rest of my life." He said as (Name) blushed and covered her face.

"That's a big commitment, Dean. Hope you are up for it." She laughed still feeling flushed at her husband's charming gesture.

"I plan on it, Sweetness."

"If only you held up your promise, sweetness. You promised to love me and be faithful to me until death do us part. I'll never forgive you for breaking your vows and for breaking my heart. I loved you with all I had, and you broke it. I won't let you do that to anyone else. Not even to captain heartthrob." Dean pulled out his gun and his demon knife, ready to fight his former love if he had to, maybe even kill. Yes, if it meant exposing (Name) for her fraudulent public persona. He watches (Name) leave the stage after she blow out the candles and unfortunately, she disappeared when the old, white guy in glasses started cutting the cake and distribute it. With the crowd was distracted with their gluttony, Dean hunted for (Name). finding no success, he decided to go outside of the ballroom and to the hallway. He took a deep breath and placed his hands on his head going down a hallway filled with exquisite statues.

"I'm in way over my head, right now. Every time I find her in a crowd, she disappears in the last minute." Dean gasped trying to get away from the crowd of rich snobby pricks that would never experience a day of what Dean lived through. The hunter was about to go in when he noticed on the he sees the white-haired young woman he was hunting down walked out from the ballroom. Before (Name) could notice him, Dean hides behind a pillar, hoping she wouldn't see him. He hears footsteps fade away through the echo of the hallway. Dean looks around and could see that (Name) was gone. He walked away from the pillar that hid his frame. He quietly walked down the hall and to the corner and saw (Name) looking up at some of the artwork hanging on the walls, looking like she was lost in thought. 

Dean got a closer look at her and never really realized on how beautiful (Name) truly was and how much she physically changed since he last saw her. She looked like an eternal, shining star casting her light among unworthy mortal men. The woman's white, starlight hair shone like the full moon on a clear, cloudless night. her (S/c) skin was clear and free of any blemishes or scars, making her look ethereally flawless and don't get him started on her figure. Though she was wearing an A-line gown, Dean could see just how fit she had become. It was slimmer, curvier, and toned than when he last spoke to her, when he called her fat and ugly. Her midnight blue gown made her appearance the ever more radiant and her perfectly even make up made her the ever more immaculate. He finally got close enough to notice that she was wearing what looked like a golden neckless shaped like a star with a diamond in the middle. Her new boyfriend must have given it to her he thought, scrunching his nose up in repulsion at the thought. Even Maria whom he praised and dangled in front of (Name), mocking he that she will one day be his new wife, paled in comparison to what his ex-wife looked like now. He never thought she could look this good, this regal.

The longer Dean kept looking at her, the more he kept thinking of the night of their first date together. He remembered how beautiful she looked that day. In truth, Dean had always thought (Name) was stunning, even when they were dating. However, after what she had done to him that ended their marriage, she became the ugliest person on the planet to him.

It was a crisp fall evening when Dean had come and picked her up from Bobby's when she stayed there. 

"I'll get it, Bobby!" She called from the other side of the screen door as she turned the knob and revealed herself wearing a long-sleeve green sundress with white flowers and holding a denim jacket for the cool air. Her (H/c) hair was braided up and curled in a way that showed off her lovely neck. She wore only little amount of make-up that brought out her own natural beauty. It still made Dean's heart skip a beat when he saw her.

"Wow, you look fantastic sweetheart!" Dean gasped looking at his lovely date for the evening. 

In all honesty, Dean was more nervous about taking (Name) on an official date for the first time. He never had been truly formal with a girl and taking her out like a real man. He had always been the kind of guy that would just spend the night and leave in the morning. That was only because that was the only thing could give the women in his life. Dean didn't believe he was relationship material, due to the life he lived. But after meeting (Name), he felt taking a chance on trying for one. 

"You look pretty great yourself, Dean." She replied back looking at the handsome hunter with that charming devilish smirk of his that made her face turned beet-red, especially when he was wearing that leather jacket. The couple were interrupted by an old man popping out of the door glaring at Dean.

"Remember Dean, no funny business. She's a good girl and doesn't deserve to be a notch in your-"

"Bobby, relax. It's not like that. We're just going to a dinner and a movie and we will back around 12 o'clock." Dean said with a nervous grin. It was almost like his whole cocky demeanor changed when the older hunter emerged from his doorway. 

"Make it 10, son. No later." Bobby retorted with his arms folded to his chest. Ever since (Name) became a hunter, he had taken it upon himself to be a surrogate father to the young new huntress. Though he had known Dean for much longer, since his childhood, he more protective of (Name). Mostly because of how much of a ladies' man he is. To help ease the tension, (Name) stepped between the two men.

"Bobby, give him a break. Tell you what? I will be back by 11 tonight? No later okay?" She suggested and waited for the old man to answer. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Alright, you win, sugar. 11 o'clock, no later. Got it?" He pointed at Dean and the young man comedically and anxiously game the old man an thumbs up. 

"Got it, Bobby." Dean agreed and (Name) walked up to him and grabbed his hand and happily sprinted to Dean's Impala. It was the best date Dean ever had.

As Dean's memories distracted him, he then hears even louder footsteps come out from the ballroom and saw Steve Rogers coming out with two plates of cake. The hunter watched the couple as (Name) grabbed a plate from Steve, smiling at him. Dean's emotions rapidly changed as he saw the pair converse, growing angrier as he watched Steve put his arm around her shoulders. She giggled as he kissed her on the head in an extremely affectionate way. It made Dean realized the reason that he was here. He was here to expose the monster that his ex-wife truly was. A cold heartless, dishonest cheater that no man would love, and he was going to end her little charade tonight, be any means necessary.

As Steve walked away from (Name), Dean then took his opportunity to walk up to, with his gun in hand. She had her back turned as Dean walked closer to her slowly and quietly. He was only a few feet away from (Name) when he finally spoke to her for the very first time in nearly four years. 

"(Name)." He coldly uttered to her loud enough for her to hear. He noticed her flinch as her breath hitched, making Dean smirk watching her squirm as she turned around slowly. He could have sworn that her beautiful (E/C) grew twice their size when she laid eyes on him. Her mouth dropped as she had forgot how to breath.

"Dean?" She whispered in absolute and utter disbelief that her ex-husband was standing right in front of her. Dean did nothing but smirk as (Name) shocked expressing didn't faulter as she gawked at him. 

"Darling, it's seems you and I need to talk."

[teecupangel]

Submitted by @saberamane

Been seeing a lot of Edward Kenway and James Kidd/Mary Read and it just got me thinking, Edward never noticed that ‘James’ was a woman, so wouldn’t it be funny if someone had an oc who was a man, but dressed as a woman as a disguise, like mary did, and poor edward never could tell?

Like the first time he met this guy was with Blackbeard, and they were there to collect the oc because Blackbeard got word that the oc’s female alias was under investigation, so they were there to basically pull him out before he was caught. Blackbeard know the oc, so he knows the oc is a man who just makes a very convincing woman, but Edward meets a new beautiful 'woman’ and flirts. And is then horrified to find out it’s a guy.

And then every time Edward is in a new port with the crew, he’d end up hitting on a woman in some tavern, and it turns out to be the oc in a new disguise nearly every time.

And so then Edward begins to flirt less with woman, because he is getting seriously paranoid about flirting with that guy again. And then he finds out about James Kidd being Mary Read and it’s like the last straw for his sanity.

And somehow Blackbeard can tell the oc apart from actual woman, and so is technically cheating in the crew wide betting poll at each port on whether or not Edward flirts with their undercover informant again.

Edward and oc become friends in the end, and maybe the oc becomes the live in 'nanny’ for the Kenway’s and is able to stop the Templar’s from killing Edward and abducting Haytham.

=============================

Addition by teecup

All I can think is Edward going “the boobs, check the boobs, he had flat boobs before so this time…”

Two hours later…

(Pokemon text) Edward has learned PADDING.

I like to think of this OC as the pirate spy equivalent of Chevalière d'Éon. He’s an okay fighter, having spent years in Blackbeard’s ship, but he found his ‘calling’ when they were at port and some drunk idiots mistook him for a girl.

The easiest score he ever got.

After that, it would actually be Anne who helped him be more lady-like and Edward had actually flirted with him before Blackbeard officially introduced the two of them as he used to work as a waitress too (for research).

At some point, Edward just stopped flirting altogether because he has been traumatized so many times by the OC who kept flirting back, only to flash his balls when Edward is ready to do the do and leave while laughing. Edward never does anything because it’s all harmless flirting and they never get anywhere because the OC would always shows him the truth before anything can get physical.

Nobody realizes it but Blackbeard has a surefire way to know if their undercover informant is on port. He always wears something on his neck to hide his Adam’s Apple.

And he would actually be with Blackbeard during his last stand, being spared only because the soldiers believed he was one of the women and not a pirate. He managed to get to Edward and stay with the Jackdaw, following Edward because, well…

Blackbeard’s gone and he has nowhere else to go. So he took the job as their live-in nanny and pretended to be Edward’s sister so Edward’s wife wouldn’t think something is happening between them (there wasn’t, they had a more sibling relation at this point, forged from the high seas and the blood of the people they lost) and he does think of Edward’s children as his niece and nephews.

But years of being a spy and the paranoia of losing people he cares about once more (especially considering Edward’s occupation) made him more suspicious of people he didn’t know and Birch just pings at him.

He doesn’t find out Birch is the Templar though and the attack still happens but he had been able to take down the ones after Jenny, telling her to stay behind him while they searched for the others. He would be there to help Edward, telling him that it was just like ‘old times’ jokingly even though his chest would be beating too fast due to both adrenaline and fear. They tagteam the attackers and Edward lives but they were too late to stop Haytham from killing someone to protect his mother.

In the end, Tessa leaves the Kenway mansion because of the truth of Edward’s commitment to the Creed and Haytham’s actions.

But at least he wasn’t alone in raising his children.

Unorganized Notes:

For more drama, add hints that the OC may have felt something more for Blackbeard than just him being his ‘captain’. Perhaps he’d only say “He was my Mary Read”  when Edward asked and Edward knew instantly what he meant.

He always call Edward ‘Ed’ because he used to call him ‘Kenway’ or ‘Cap’n Kenway’ but now that they were meant to be siblings and they have grown close, it was too painful to call him ‘Edward’ which was what he usually called Blackbeard.

Jenny always joked that he has prettier clothes than her. He just tells her to talk to Edward about that.

… It would be funny if having him as the nanny would teach Haytham how to crossdress and be more inclined to crossdress to get whatever he wants.

Just imagine Ratonhnhaké:ton going “This is my father. Sometimes, he likes to wear dresses and paint his face but he still prefers to be called ‘father’.”

(Just additional information: The Forsaken Book does name Haytham’s nursemaid as Edith so if anyone wants to make this OC and can’t think of the name, there you go. On the other hand, Edith could also serve as the OC’s sorta-best friend and they could gossip about Tessa instead)

[softquietsteadylove]

Hi can I request 2 parts for Spy/Special Force AU?

I have been craving for some angst and drama, so I am really sorry for this.

So for the 1st part. We always see Gil in dangerous situation but now...what about Thena was caught. Gil didn't know that it was Thena not until they presented her to him. He had to watch her getting interrogated and tortured and he can't do anything about it because he's undercover. He tried to negotiate with them without getting suspicious, but it didn't work.

"So, what do ya think, new guy?"

"Ask about the arms deal happening at the end of the week."

Gil took the instructions coming through his earpiece silently. "Not a bad place, but do you guys really have the stuff necessary to secure all this square footage?"

He got a couple of looks and tried to remain calm; using 'secure' like that would definitely get him suspected of being an undercover Agent.

"I know a guy with both hands under the table, I mean," Gil shrugged, keeping his arms folded and tight to his sides. He didn't manage to sneak anything in with him weapons wise. His fists were weapon enough.

"Don't worry about it," one of the ones who had been showing him around for the last week shrugged. "We've got more incoming."

Gil nodded. It was as much of a confirmation on the weapons trade off as he was going to get, and he wouldn't risk asking about it further. His brows furrowed as they reached their destination: a control room in the basement with the window smashed out. "We catch something?"

"You could say that." His grin gave Gil a bad feeling.

They turned on the singular light bulb that lit the decrepit little space. There was a small figure in a chair, ziptied to the armrests and legs by the wrists and ankles. They were visibly too tight, drawing blood no matter how still they tried to remain.

Gil's heart stopped.

He tried to stay still. He would know that figure anywhere, as much as he tried not to. The slight frame, the slope of the shoulders and the prominence of the clavicle under the buttoned work shirt. The stockings were torn, probably from getting dragged to and fro. Shoes were probably the first thing taken from them.

He knew it was Thena before they pulled the burlap off her head.

As soon as it was off they punched her square in the jaw, whipping her head around and making the chair screech on the concrete floor. It was just heavy enough not to topple over with her in it.

Gil kept his face as neutral as he could--their lives depended on it. They were watching him, checking to see if they had found the weakness they thought. If they had found their mole. "Where'd you find her?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," the worker bees around him snickered as they watched the show.

Gil kept his fists clenched under his armpits, digging his short nails as deep into his skin as he could. His teeth were clenched so tight he could barely see straight.

Thena didn't utter a word as they laid into her, taking every slap and punch with little more than a grunt or a burst of air. She kept her eyes shut as they hauled her head up by her hair, still pulled back into a ponytail.

They hadn't gotten her at home, she was still dressed for work, whether they got her coming in or going home. Gil felt sickened to wonder how long they'd had her captive.

"We got a tip that there was a real pretty blonde hangin' around," the one doing the beating said to Gil, giving Thena's head a shake by her hair. He turned his face into hers, inhaling against her cheek. "Had to go and find 'er for myself."

"Don't move a muscle, Agent. Stay on target."

Those fuckers. The brass knew Thena had been captured and were still ordering him not to move? How far were they planning on letting this go? How long had they been listening to Thena get hurt?

Eyes were still on Gil in the room, monitoring how far they could push him. He still hadn't let a crack show, yet. "Y'know, someone let us know that she was with the Fed."

Of course someone had tipped them off. How else would they have been able to get the drop on the Goddess of War?

"Y'know what they say, big guy," another one slapped him on the shoulder before strolling into the semi-connected interrogation room. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"

Gil wiggled his fingers against his palm, feeling the blood he'd drawn. He was nearing his limit. Thena pried her least swollen eye open and looked at him, managing just a little twitch of her lips. No one else would be able to recognise it as a smile--they'd sooner assume it was a flinch.

But Gil could always tell.

Thena shut her eyes again as they wrenched her head back, exposing the length of her neck.

"She is a pretty thing, huh?" the new one looked back at Gil, trailing a finger along her throat.

"Agent, do not move. I repeat: stand. Down."

Gil watched the hand trail down her neck to her collarbone, just barely peeking out from her blouse. He pulled out a knife, cutting off one button, then another.

The two in the room grinned at each other as the third button popped off, exposing just the hint of a white bra with floral lace. "Should we see how pretty?"

If the window weren't shattered before, it certainly would be now. Gil grabbed the head of the first one, slamming it down on the table so hard it only took the one hit to incapacitate him.

The other one reached into the back of his jeans, "fuckin' mole-!"

Gil turned his shoulder out to him, ramming him against the wall with his shoulder driven directly into his solar plexus. The wind left him and he slumped down the wall. For good measure, Gil kicked his teeth in.

"Hey, what the fuck-"

Gilgamesh was by far the strongest on the special forces team--probably one of the strongest agents in the field, if not the strongest. He grabbed the creepy one by the hand, twisting it all the way around to pop it off the wrist.

The creep screamed and howled in pain.

The one who had been doing the beating held up his hands, backing away from Thena on the chair, who was swaying faintly in her attempt to remain conscious.

"Agent! Stand down, this is a direct order!"

Gil tore the earpiece and its connected mic out of his ear and crushed it under his foot. He kept his eyes on the man with Thena's blood on his knuckles.

"H-Hey, big guy," the idiot was at least smart enough to try and barter his way to safety. "Look, we both know you're not gonna kill me-"

"Says who?"

The smaller of the two men shrank a little. Maybe his life wasn't as insured as he thought it was. "O-Okay!--okay, look, I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry, man! You want info?! I'll tell you--I'll tell you everything! Who tipped us off, how we scoped out your headquarters--everything!"

Gil grasped the bastard by his shirt, slamming him up against the wall, black in the eyes. "You've got a lot of nerve bartering with me after what you did to her-"

"Gil."

The beater hit the floor like a sack of bricks.

Gil moved in front of Thena, lifting her chin as gently as he could. She'd have one hell of a black eye, and her naturally sharp cheekbones were split and swollen. "Hey."

Thena blinked her good eye, lifting her head shakily as Gil cut open the zipties slicing her wrists and ankles incrementally.

"Backup better be on the fucking way," Gil growled as he get her freed. Her body naturally folded in on itself in its injured and vulnerable state. Gil shirked off his jacket, pulling it around her and even zipping it up over her exposed chest. "Or those old fucks are next."

The beater was trying to crawl to safety.

Gil slammed his heel down on his back.

The beater threw up anything that was in his stomach.

Gil leaned down, pulling his head up by the hair, as he had done with Thena mere minutes ago. "You're gonna tell us everything."

He nodded.

"You're gonna cooperate with every agent you see."

He nodded again, more vigorously.

Gil dropped him. If they did get some valuable information out of him it would be the only thing saving his job after this stunt. He turned, catching the creep trying to struggle to his feet. "And you."

Thena didn't even blink as Gil grabbed his shoulder, then his jaw, and twisted. She watched as the man's lifeless body fell to the ground. She looked up at Gil, "I'm going to pretend I didn't see that."

Gil said nothing. He had no remorse for someone like that. He nudged his body out of the way, picking Thena up and sitting down in the chair for himself with her in his arms.

The sounds of their fellow agents storming the building started at the top of the building and travelled through its open, gutted remains. They would be with them soon enough.

Gil sat and waited. He would be lucky to be suspended and on probation. Much more likely, they would have internal affairs investigate him for his disobedience. Worst case scenario, they could find him in breach of protocol and fire him.

Thena shuddered in his arms.

He would accept any punishment they gave him--gladly. He turned his head, pressing his lips to her temple in the slim window of being alone with her.

[ncisfranchise-source]

While the NCIS franchise may have said goodbye to one of its shows (Los Angeles), two are still on the schedule for fall 2023 (the original and the newest spinoff, Hawai’i). And both left at least one member from each team in interesting places.

NCIS ended with more of a straightforward cliffhanger, as Torres (Wilmer Valderrama) confronted a man from his past and teased quite the potential dark turn. Meanwhile, over on Hawai’i, Tennant’s (Vanessa Lachey) actions in the two-part finale may mean trouble for her in the future. Plus, just one day after the NCIS: LA finale aired, LL Cool J made a cameo on Hawai’i and was announced to be recurring in its third season.

Scroll down as we take a look at the burning questions we need answered when our favorite dramas return.

NCIS, Season 21, Fall 2023, Mondays, 9/8c, CBS

NCIS: Will Torres shoot that man from his past?

While in prison undercover, Torres took an interest in a young inmate and, specifically, his mother’s boyfriend (Al Sapienza) visiting him. Later, Torres left his sister a voicemail to tell her, “I found him. … The bastard’s still alive, and he’s still doing it.” The finale ended with Torres waiting for him in his home, wanting “what I always wanted … to watch you die,” the agent said, picking up his gun. But Torres wouldn’t really kill — or even shoot — him, right?

NCIS: Will Palmer and Knight take any significant steps in their relationship?

It was the penultimate episode of the season that saw Palmer (Brian Dietzen) blurt out “I love you” to Knight (Katrina Law) on his way out of the office; she returned the sentiment in front of the team later. Theirs is the first relationship featuring two series regulars we’re actually seeing play out onscreen (versus something happening only when one person is leaving), so what’s next for them? Moving in together?

NCIS: Will Season 21 be its last?

Given that we’re now over 20 years into the series, and it has lasted beyond Mark Harmon’s exit (something we initially didn’t think would happen), it is hard to imagine it ending. But the reality is that shows can’t last forever. Two NCIS spinoffs have already ended: New Orleans in 2021 and Los Angeles in May 2023. We’re closer to the end of NCIS than we are to the beginning, and it’s only a question of when, not if, we see the final season.

NCIS: Hawai'i: Will Tennant face any serious consequences for her actions?

Tennant made a calculated move in the finale to take a really bad guy out of commission, and as a result, her mentor who turned out to be a spy, Maggie (Julie White), who was in custody is now free. John (Henry Ian Cusick) from the Office of Special Projects (OSP) told someone over the phone that the events of this case “seem like an exception” but that, presumably, Tennant could be hiding other secrets, and it “couldn’t hurt to plus up the team.” We know that Sam’s recurring next season, and on NCIS: LA, Kilbride (Gerald McRaney) was looking at him to fill the operations manager spot near the end of the series. (That was never resolved.) Could his time on the island have some sort of impact on the role Tennant has with the team in an official capacity? (Unofficially, we don’t think it would.)

NCIS: Hawai'i: What will bring (and keep) Sam around for a while?

Sam stepped in to help Tennant and Kate (Tori Anderson) while they were in Caracas (and he was in Morocco, as part of the Rescue Hetty mission teased at the end of the LA series finale). And while no details have been released about what brings Sam to the island for multiple episodes, we would think that it would be related to something in his life and what’s going on with the Hawai’i team. And how much will we hear about what’s next for the OSP team while he’s around?

Will there be another NCIS-Hawai'i crossover?

In addition to the three-show crossover that brought NCIS, LA, and Hawai’i together for an event in January 2023, there have been a couple featuring the two remaining shows in the franchise as well. Will that happen again, whether it’s only on one show with a character (or more) visiting or a two-hour event across both?

Will anyone else from NCIS: LA appear on either show?

Since the aforementioned major crossover introduced the agents of the three teams to each other, the door is open for another LA cast member besides LL Cool J to appear on either NCIS or Hawai’i, even for a single case since that series ended with everyone still working at OSP.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Hi hello! So pleased to hear your requests are open! Can I please request for a marriage au mafia style where the reader gets hurt or assaulted by the rival gang in front of him and due to being restraint he can't get to her and he cries and begs for her stop. Then thankfully Chan and the others come to the rescue and you want nothing more than to be in chnagbins arms. Maybe a lot of angst and fluff afterwards too. Can't wait to see what you come up with 💕

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Changbin

Warnings: Mention of violence and blood; cursing and language; lots of angst and some fluff at the end; mature content

Genre: Mafia AU; Established Relationship

Where are you?

It feels like a dream. The very strange sensation of that in-between state because you were incapable of distinguishing consciousness from something less than. 

Am I alive?

You must be, aware of the sensation of cold, shivers running down your spine, raising little bumps across your arms...

“Princess!”

What? Did you hear that?

“Y/N!” the voice came again. More urgently this time.

You realized then, with the grounding agency of that sound, that your eyes were closed, but it was a struggle to open them, slowly coming back from whatever had sucked you down, wincing at the dull pain in your head.

“Y/N,” the voice sighed this time. Like it was relieved to see you cognizant. “Tell me you’re okay, love.”

Love?

It hit you at that moment, the sound of the voice. One you could recognize no matter the degree of darkness holding you under, and you managed to open your eyes enough to meet Changbin’s gaze from across the room. 

“Changbin?” you questioned. Or, at least, you thought you said his name. You couldn’t be sure since the sounds around you made it seem like your head was underneath water, distorting everything, and the roof of your mouth was dry and tasteless.

“That’s right, love,” Changbin said, and you struggled to keep him in your line of vision, watching his form swim and dance in strange directions.

“I don’t feel good,” you admitted, hearing what might’ve been a sharp intake of breath.

“Where does it hurt?” Changbin asked, and you frowned at how difficult the question was since you weren’t sure how to answer it.

There was too much numbness, and you were far more concerned with restoring your senses, slowly feeling your ears open back up and the things surrounding you come into focus.

Meanwhile, Changbin was still talking. “I’ll kill them all,” he growled. “This was never supposed to happen.”

Them? you thought to yourself vacantly, gingerly turning around as much as your bindings would allow, realizing only after a brief relapse of confusion that your hands and legs were tied to the metal chair you sat on. 

“Where are we?” you asked, finding your voice amidst everything else.

“I’m not sure,” Changbin whispered, and he suddenly sat upright in his chair, eyes narrowing and features taking on that practiced hardening that you associated with your husband at his most dangerous.

But a Changbin bound and tied by seemingly impossible to escape restraints didn’t exactly scream power to you. In fact, it seemed more like a power imbalance, and you were left reeling for answers when the sound of a distant door opening and then closing filled the space between you both.

“I see you’re awake now,” an unfamiliar figure announced, voice slightly accented. He walked with an arrogant swagger, matching the exaggerated steps he took and the smirk he wore on his grizzled features. “We’ve been waiting.”

“Don’t touch her!” Changbin snapped, jerking against his restraints as the veins in his neck visibly popped in response to his obvious anger and frustration. 

“Who? The girl?” the man asked with a lazy gesturing towards you. “Then you’ll give us answers, no?”

“What do you want?” Changbin asked, and you noted how his fingers were clenched tightly against the arm rests attached to his chair.

“The new shipment of weapons,” the man said. “Your men took them from us the other night. Came in and shot my best sniper.”

Changbin sighed, clearly frustrated. “They were originally assigned to us.”

“But then we made a better deal!” the man growled. “It was my name on that contract, and you had no right to interfere.”

“Says who?” Changbin asked, fishing for more information.

“I can’t tell you that,” the man replied. “I’m only the messenger.”

“You act like it’s more than that.”

“Oh?” the man smirked. “Well, I am a big deal.”

Changbin glowered at the arrogance. “I don’t lead the organization.”

“I know, but you’re an important player,” the man continued. “And your name was everywhere when I started investigating.”

“The weapons were a necessary exchange,” Changbin argued.

“But they were ours!” the man declared passionately, and Changbin knew better than to try to argue with someone so overzealous.

“Fine,” Changbin huffed. “I’ll have my men restore the weapons.”

“Wonderful,” the man sighed, tucking his hands into his pocket. “There is one more thing, though.”

“One more?” Changbin snorted.

“I know of your importance, Mr. Seo,” the man said. “I assume that you’re someone in possession of good information.”

“Like what?”

“Like that little bar you opened downtown,” the man continued, taking another step closer. 

You froze when he pulled a knife from his pocket, studying the way the light reflected off the harsh metal. “What about it?” Changbin grumbled, eyes focused on the obvious danger in the room.

“I’m curious about its sudden success,” he said, and you shivered when he started circling your chair. “Seems like something is missing.”

“Just good business,” Changbin said, but you could tell he was trying to get one step ahead of the guy - discerning the meaning of this unexpected conversation.

“Or, you figured out how to delegitimize the competition,” the man harshly exhaled, and you whimpered when you felt the cold blade of the knife tease the sensitive skin of your neck. 

Changbin sat up just a little higher, biceps flexing against his restraints. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Obviously,” the man hissed, digging the blade just enough to draw a tiny pinprick of blood. “You’ve sent your men undercover to spy on my business! To spread rumors and lies and turn my clientele away!”

Changbin chuckled at the outrageous claim, but it was devoid of any humor. “You probably fucked your business over yourself.”

“Do you think I’m a fool?” the man growled, searing metal against flesh. “I know men like you, Mr. Seo, and I’m willing to bet that you’ve played a bigger part than what you’ve let on.”

“I have better things to do than fuck with some second rate booze club,” Changbin growled. “We’ve got clubs all over downtown. They’ve all been successful, and it has nothing to do with sending off the competition.”

Changbin smirked then, something harsh and mocking. “Maybe you’re just a really bad businessman.”

But it was the wrong thing to say, and you withheld a scream of terror when the man suddenly wrapped biting fingers into your hair. “You want to save your cocksleeve?” he growled, gripping even tighter to your aching scalp and wrenching your head back to expose your throat and the small laceration he had left there on the smooth skin. A puddle of red amidst the rest. “Tell me why you did it!”

“I can’t!” Changbin snarled in return. “My guys never stepped foot in your territory.”

“LIES!” the man roared, and you were teetering precariously in your chair, back legs lifted from the safety of the floor.

“If you hurt her,” Changbin said, and his tone was staggered and weak. “I will make sure you suffer a thousand times worse.”

The man laughed, incredulous as he looked around the room. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

Silent tears fell down your glistening cheeks as you felt the man’s warm breath against the side of your face. “Maybe violence isn’t enough for you. Maybe I need to get what I need by other means.”

Your stomach dropped at the guttural tone, trying to meet Changbin’s eyes from across the room. “You’ve been warned,” Changbin said. “The grave you’ve dug for yourself is deep enough.”

“Oh?” the man laughed. “Well, since you think you’re in such control here, let me remind of you of the reality of the situation...”

“Changbin!” you cried when you were abruptly lifted from your chair, knife cutting through the ropes binding you, sending you colliding back against the solid mass of an unfamiliar form, loose hands roaming across your torso. 

“Stop!”

Changbin’s voice was just veering on the edge of desperate, recognizing that you were in no position for him to sound anything less than serious. 

“Stop?” your captor repeated in a mocking tone, and you felt the blade of the knife return to your throat, slicing down harder and finally triggering the hair-raising scream that you had been suppressing. Trying to be brave for Changbin.

“You can’t do this!” Changbin cried, and you were amazed to see the faint rivulet of a tear stain - the mark of weakness that your husband tried so hard to suppress in this violent line of work.

If you thought about it, there were only a handful of times that you had ever seen Changbin cry.

“I’ll do anything,” Changbin whispered. “I’ll even take her place! Just don’t hurt her anymore.”

“Hmmm?” Your captor relinquished his threatening attack, and you could breath a little easier when he turned his attention back to Changbin.“What if I offer you a compromise? Tell me how you’ve managed your business affairs, and I won’t kill your little plaything.”

Changbin inhaled sharply, gaze full of a sinister rage you knew was reserved for his greatest enemies. “You’ll be screaming for a death of your own by the time I’m done with you.”

“You still don’t understand,” the man sighed, and you gasped when chapped lips brushed against your cheek. “Maybe I’ll fuck her first...”

“You won’t have the time.”

“Says who...”

He trailed off then. The last words you ever heard from your captor before an enormous explosion interrupted the tension, walls and floors shaking as dust and debris fell from the ceiling overhead.

You could feel the body behind you trembling as well, but you knew that it wasn’t from the explosion. It was from fear, and in a split second of panic, the man shoved you to the ground, and you yelped when your head collided hard against the concrete. 

You attempted to pull yourself back up, but there was something numbing and weighty keeping you on the floor, darkness swimming threateningly in front of your eyes once again.

There were familiar sounds: the sharp click of a gun, the whizzing of bullets flying overhead, and the cacophony of screams and yells.

The pain was keeping you from focusing, aware of vague figures passing in and out of your periphery, running and moving in all sorts of directions. It was chaos at its finest, and you were incapable of comprehending any of it. Instead, you could only focus on two things: the pounding of your pulse against your eardrums and the intermingled buzzing of familiar tones.

There was a hand on your shoulder, but you were incapable of responding to their call, succumbing to an irrefutable and dreamless sleep.

The first thing you noticed when you were capable of understanding your surroundings, was the silky fabric of the bed sheets.

They were smooth to the touch and you flexed your fingers around them, humming in contentment when you silted open your eyes just enough to confirm that they belonged to you and Changbin. The ones you used on the King-sized bed in your shared room.

But therein lay the problem: you were alone in the bed, and the only voices you could hear certainly didn’t match the same tone of your husband.

You swallowed hard, flinching when the motion brought attention to the thick bandage around your neck, and upon touching the material, you were bombarded with a barrage of images reminding you of everything that had happened the previous night. 

It was enough to leave you shaking, seeking some form of comfort as you roused your body just enough to turn around to the sound of those voices, recognizing Chan, your husband’s boss, and Seungmin, the residential healer.

“Chan?” you groaned, grimacing at the dryness in your mouth.

“Y/N,” he acknowledged you, rushing over to your bedside in an instant. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you said, watching as he lifted a bottle of water to hand to you.

“Drink this.”

You nodded, taking it from him. “Where’s Changbin?”

The question was met with silence, and you frowned when Chan and Seungmin exchanged quick glances. “Well, if nothing hurts, then I have other appointments,” Seungmin said, hurriedly dismissing himself from the room.

“Coward,” Chan muttered, but he was nothing but smiles for you, coming to sit down at your bedside. “Changbin...he’s busy.”

The answer wasn’t satisfactory, and your heart started beating a little faster. “Where?”

“Downstairs,” he said, and you knew exactly what that meant. 

“He brought him here?” you muttered, hating the idea of having someone like that under the same roof you called home. 

“Changbin insisted,” Chan replied, and you realized that he disapproved as well, but it still didn’t help your tender sensibilities, and you were ready to implode from the inside because you needed Changbin’s comfort.

“I need him,” you said, fixing Chan with a stern look. “Can you ask him to come up here?”

“He won’t be convinced until he’s done,” Chan said, but his gaze was soft as he leaned in closer. “I can help, if you’d like.”

It was a nice gesture, and normally you might take him up on an offer of comfort, but Chan wasn’t going to heal the turmoil bubbling inside of you.

The emotions burst forth, and your eyes had already glossed over from tears shedding themselves like dead leaves falling from a tree in the middle of a windstorm. “I just want Changbin,” you sobbed, and Chan was barely perceivable through the mess of your tears. 

You could tell Chan was upset by your dismissal, even as his fingers tried to brush away the wetness dotting your cheeks. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, and it spoke to a history between the two of you that often when unsaid.

You had been given to Chan, your organization’s leader, as a peace offering from a rival mafia group. It was a cruel trade, and you resisted as much as you could, especially since, at first, you were meant to be his betrothed.

And you came into the Miroh Group with a determination to resist them to the very end.

Until Changbin stole your heart.

From there, you couldn’t believe that you had gotten so lucky, falling in love whole-heartedly, capable of forgiving Changbin’s worst sins.

Including his more sadistic tendencies.

“You can try to see him,” Chan said, seemingly satisfied after wiping away most of the evidence of your internal breakdown.

You nodded immediately, even though you understood that what you might find downstairs wouldn’t be anything comforting.

You felt a little unsteady on your feet, even with Chan helping you down the concrete steps descending into a place you tended to avoid.

The smell of alcohol and blood were both overwhelming, and you stumbled on the final step, rearing back at the sound of a truly gruesome gurgle that reminded you too much of drowning. 

In the middle of the room you managed to make out Changbin, wearing dark pants and a white t-shirt, allowing you to see all the blood painting the texture in ugly patterns.

But then your attention wandered over to the poor soul strapped to the chair, barely recognizable because of the damage caused by your husband, the one who was gaping at you while holding a knife in one hand and scissors in the other.

"Y/N,” Changbin whispered. “Why aren’t you resting?”

You shook your head, looking past the gruesome, mangled damage to see the pained expression of your former captor. 

Changbin had made good on his threat to tear the asshole apart, and your stomach rolled at the awful display of violence.

Done at the hands of the man who made the sweetest love to you in the dark recesses of your bedroom.

Still, you craved his presence, falling into his open arms as he held you close after tossing aside his tools. “Shhh,” he whispered to calm your tears.

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” you sniffled.

“I’m sorry, love,” Changbin said, soothing your cries with soft cooing. 

You savored his closeness, tucking your chin over his shoulder and opening your eyes to look upon the decrepit appearance of your former captor. “What are you doing to him?” you asked, and you felt Changbin sigh as he pulled back from you.

“I know you don’t approve, love,” Changbin said, and he glanced down at his ruined t-shirt and jeans, drenched in blood. 

Under most circumstances, you would agree, but you felt your hand jumping to your throat, wrapping around the bandage covering your wound. 

Changbin frowned at the movement, likely remembering the events that led to your injuries. “Kill him,” you said, and both Changbin and Chan seemed taken aback by your response. It was completely out of character, coming from someone who often disapproved of the murderous part of their work. 

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, and you could see that he wore wariness on top of his horrified expression.

“Come upstairs soon,” you said, squeezing Changbin’s hand with your own. “I need you.”

Your husband nodded, looking at you with something akin to awe as you left the downstairs basement with Chan hot on your heels and torturous screams assaulting your ears. 

Chan only left your bedroom once Changbin arrived, showered and clean, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

“Careful,” Chan whispered to him on the way out, and you shivered.

But there was nothing that could warm you up more than Changbin, and you even managed a smile when he climbed into the bed behind you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Hi, princess,” he whispered, and you felt like bathing in the sensual tone of his voice.

“Changbin,” you sighed in return, turning around so that you could face him.

“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it love?” he asked, reaching out to tenderly stroke his fingers across your bandages. 

“Not anymore,” you said. “Seungmin did a good job.”

“He better,” Changbin rumbled, and you tried not to roll your eyes at your husband. 

“I was really upset earlier,” you said. “When I couldn’t find you.”

“That’s my fault, princess,” Changbin said. “I didn’t know you would wake-up so soon....and there were things I needed to take care of.”

You sighed, closing your eyes hard against a distant image of your mind conjuring the bloodied and ruined form of your captor. “Did you find out who he belonged to?”

“Yeah, a small organization under Park,” Changbin said. “He was more than willing to talk after I took one of his fingers.”

Your heart twisted at his nonchalant tone. “I guess you silenced him.”

Changbin hesitated, pausing to look at you with concern. “Are you mad at me?”

“Just...disappointed,” you said. “I couldn’t hold myself together.”

“It would’ve torn me apart,” Changbin replied. “If I let him go without making him suffer for touching my princess.”

You closed your eyes, feeling Changbin trail his fingers across your arm. “But you’re here now?”

“Of course,” Changbin agreed, leaning in to kiss you gently. “I’m yours, love. For as long as you need me to hold you.”

“Might be all night,” you said, moving up to kiss under his jaw. “I need you in a lot of ways.”

Changbin chuckled at your implications, leaving nothing to be imagined as you grazed one finger over the front of his sweatpants where his cock lay flaccid. He titled your chin at a better angle, a glaze of lust darkening his eyes. “When you feel better,” he purred. “I’ll take care of your little pussy.”

You shook at his seductive promise, curling even closer to him as Changbin’s thudding heart lulled you into a comfortable peace.

[lesbian-deadpool]

Saving Rosie

Part One of Two: “I’m Not A Spy.”

Rosie Betzer x Reader

Words: 5,768

Warnings: WWII (and everything that comes with that era), Nazis, spy shit, arguing, alludes to execution, sadness... I think that may be it.

Request: No.

Summary: You save the woman you have grown close to over the past few years you have been undercover as a Nazi general, and now you’re going to save her family.

A/N: Me, still broken after watching Jojo Rabbit almost a year and a half ago?? It’s more likely than you think... so, apparently I write Rosie Beltzer fics now lol

Also, just some lil notes. The reader in this is undercover as a male Nazi general, and they’re not actually German in this fic.

EDIT: I accidentally tagged this as a Natasha fic lmao. I fixed it now tho.

Ko-Fi

Commissions

(Not My GIF)

***

"It's a lovely night for it, huh?"

For what? You weren't 

certain. Maybe it was the full moon. Maybe, it was the clear sky. The deserted streets, perhaps... what loomed in the following days to come.

Or maybe, just maybe. It was the woman by your side.

The woman hummed, a small sweet smile caressing her face.

"One of the better ones we've had in years. Came her strong German accent. A stark difference to yours, considering you no longer had to mask it. Around her, anyway.

Your smile mirrored hers as it brightened.

"It sure is."

"I can't believe it's almost over. And after so long..." she said, while you grunted, sitting down beside her on the small roof over the open attic window. "This unjust war is finally coming to an end."

"Okay, you're starting to sound like my commander now."

Rosie chuckled at your words, moving to softly lean into your side, keeping her head up to continue looking at the bright white stars that littered the midnight blue sky.

"Why do you always insist on meeting up here?" you grumbled, no malice in your voice, "It's a pain in the ass to get up onto the roof, from the outside, y'know?"

"You're a spy, aren't you? Aren't you supposed to be good at this stuff?"

"Oh cheeky," you laughed, lightly slapping the side of her leg, with the back of your hand. Rosie's quiet giggles following your remark, "And I'm an undercover soldier. Those are two very different things."

"Still." She shrugged.

You sat in silence for a small while. Over the few years, you and Rosie had grown close. Meeting up on her rooftop, at the dead of night, where there was no chance of anyone seeing you together, this way, becoming an almost every day occurrence.

You knew you could trust her the moment you first met, almost three years ago. After you had stolen the identity of a Nazi officer, that looked starkly like you. Luckily, there was hardly any information about this person. So, there was less chance for your cover to be blown.

Soon, the resistance that Rosie had been deeply a part of was un-earthed to you, thanks to your informant and the letter she carried. It wasn't long after that you started working with them too. Helping them better than they could ever hope, thanks to the military resources and information you brought.

"What happened to your neck?" Rosie asked, pulling you out from where you were, deep in your memories.

A hand came up to rub at your slightly sore skin.

"My informant can be cruel..."

Rosie cocked a blonde eyebrow at you, wanting an explanation from you.

You sighed, getting ready to tell her.

***

Eyes burned into the woman from all sides as her heels kicked against the polished wooden, yet stained, floor. Her light brown hair shone under the glowing lights, confidence radiating from her just the same.

"Can I help you?" a German Soldier slid in front of her, she had to stop herself from sneering at the man. For both his being a Nazi and his sweaty stench. But instead, she managed a sultry smirk.

"I'm here to see your General," she replied, in a German accent.

"Don't bother," another Soldier, this one drunk and slightly swaying, called over, from where he was pressed into the wall a few feet behind her.

"I don't think your General would take too kindly to you stealing what they paid for."

"They're gonna have fun with you," he replied, blatantly looking her up and down. Like a wolf would, to a tiny bunny, ready to devour it whole. However, the wolf was not a wolf at all, the wolf was, in fact, the bunny, and the bunny was the actual wolf.

She would tear him to shreds, given the chance.

"The General is in the usual room," the original man said, "Fair warning, though. They're not in a good mood today."

The woman began strutting down the hallway, once again. Throwing, "Aren't they always?" over her shoulder once she passed him by.

When she opened the thick wooden door you resided behind, the sounds of your continued groan began pouring through the crack.

"Sometimes I cannot believe that you got this assignment," she uttered in her original London accent, with her back pressed against the now-closed door.

You finished your groan off and took a deep breath before you uttered your reply.

"Luck-of-the-draw, I guess," you spoke from the floor where you lay on your back, with a shrug, "That, or I look strikingly alike the guy who died. The Nazi prick."

She walked over to you, one foot rising to press her heel into your neck, your thyroid resting in the open space of the shoe.

A choking noise sprang from your mouth as you flailed your limbs around gently. You knew that if she were to press any harder, she would surely manage to choke you.

"You're not suited for this job."

The brunette pressed harder against your throat before she released you. Leaving you to turn on your side, coughing and spluttering.

"Well, no shit. I'm a soldier, not a spy."

"You can tell."

"What was that all about?" You motioned to your neck. Red marks already making their way upon the tender flesh.

"We need to make it seem like we are having sex. Remember? I am supposed to be your hooker after all."

"You're a bitch, is what you are."

She scowled at you as you rolled yourself onto your stomach, sighing when you finally got to your feet.

"Where's the update?"

You hummed, almost as if you were remembering what you were here to do. Removing the crystal tumbler from your lips the whisky sloshing around inside. Reaching behind you, you pulled the file from where it was tucked into your pants and under your shirt. Handing it over to her.

"Is this it?" She asked, weighing the file in her hand, "It's very light."

"Yeah, and so's the information swimming around. Unless you wanna hear about the fish Agatha caught last weekend," you snarked back, moving to point at the file with the same hand that held your glass, "There's some good stuff in there. It's not much. But it's good."

"I'll take your word for it."

She tucked the folder into the long overcoat she wore, then you saw her eyebrows furrow.

"Aren't you supposed to take care of that?" She nodded towards the uniform jacket you had thrown across the room not long after you had entered it.

"You sneered at the fore-talked about item.

"I hate it and everything it stands for." You turned back to face her. "As soon as all of this bullshit is over, I'm burning that fucking armband. And then the rest of the fucking uniform."

"Real calm there, aren't you?"

"Don't start shit with me, Hannah." You took a large swig of your drink, almost emptying the glass. "I know that you wish you had somehow gotten this mission. But trust me, you don't fucking want it. The shit I've seen and done. The stuff that I've had to authorise, just to keep my cover. The fucking horror storied these monsters have told proudly, or as if they're fucking jokes." You were panting now. "You don't want that."

You had her startled into silence. Hannah had never expected this to come from you.

"How's the resistance?"

You grunted. Downing the rest of the brown liquor before moving to pour yourself another glass three fingers tall.

"It's going." you gave a heavy nod. "Still trying to spread the word."

Hannah hummed, slowly making her way towards you. Fingers coming up to razzle her hair, and wipe her lipstick, so it smudged onto her cheek.

"How's the blonde?"

"What-?" you were cut off when she wiped the red lipstick on her fingers across your own lips, leaving a smudge like hers there. "Ugh," you groaned, moving away from her palm, only to utter small obscenities and sounds of pain when her lipstick freehand messed up your short, slicked-back hair.

"What blonde?" you finally managed to ask.

"The one from the resistance. What's her name?" She clicked her fingers together, in realisation, "Rosie."

"Oh! Yeah, she's fine, and so are the kids."

"You seem to be taking a shine to her, from what I hear from the resistance. You and Rosie seem to be something of a dynamic duo."

Suddenly your shirt was ripped open, from the collar to your ribs. Making your eyes widen in shock.

However, you were used to this by now, so they soon returned back to their regular size.

"Yeah, we're friends."

Hannah hummed, something akin to a knowing smirk on her face. As she untucked your shirt.

"I'd keep an eye on her, though."

She opened your pants.

"She's being watched."

Breathless at what she just said, you stood stock still, watching as she walked towards the wooden door.

"Oh." Hannah stopped, her hand upon the handle, pulling some pieces of paper from her pocket and threw them to the floor, "I'll leave you to deliver the bad news."

And with that, she left.

***

You forewent telling Rosie everything from the mention of her.

Thinking it the best if she heard it differently.

"That really sounds like a spy meeting to me," Rosie said with a smirk, knowing it would annoy you to no end.

You closed your eyes before you could roll them into the back of your head. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled, "I'm not a spy."

"So, you've said," she giggled.

"You're drunk," you mumbled to yourself.

"What was that?"

"How are the kids?" you asked, clearly watching as Rosie groaned lightly. Her head down-turned, almost sad looking.

"Jojo's still obsessed with Hitler and everything. And Elsa's doing her best. But I can tell how much this is affecting her. And in what world wouldn't it?"

"She's strong." You nodded. "She'll get through it. We all will."

"And what about Jojo?"

Rosie turned to face you, hair swaying as she did. You could see the glazed look in her eye's, telling yourself to be extra vigilant with the woman upon the roof. You had to make sure she didn't fall off in her drunken state.

"Is he going to be like this for the rest of his life?"

Tears were building in her eyes now.

"Supporting evil dictators, wanting to take over the world, and fill it with hate?"

"No. No, of course not," you whispered. Reaching over, you clasped her cheeks between your rough, war-hardened hands. Wiping away her silent tears. "He's just a boy. A boy who wants to be a part of something, even if he doesn't understand what that is. What monster's he's following. He will realise one day. Trust me."

"I trust you." She nodded. "It just. It's hard. It's so hard. Especially when he plays up, like he did at dinner today."

"He did?"

She hummed with a nod.

"We're low on food right now. I had to go without to feed Elsa. But Jojo, he didn't know, obviously, so he took that too. Then he started arguing about his father-"

You inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing. But luckily for you, she didn't notice your reaction.

"-I yelled at him... we made up not long after, but I still feel awful about it. I'm a terrible mother."

"No, you're not-"

"I am-"

"No. You're not," you said firmly. Grabbing her forearm, gently moving it side to side, to get your point further across, "You're such a caring and amazing person. Your heart is so big and kind. And you're an even better mother. It's like all of that is doubled for those kids."

"Thank you," Rosie whispered, tears in her eyes once again, before she moved to wipe them away.

"Anyway, you're way better than my mother. She abandoned me at a farm. I was lucky a cow didn't shit on me."

She giggled at your little joke.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"There's no need. I wouldn't change it."

Things were quiet for a few minutes when you suddenly remembered.

"Oh!" You reached into your pocket and pulled out three packages, wrapped in brown paper and tied together with string. "I guess it was just lucky that I brought these then."

"What are they?"

"Beef sandwiches, I thought you would like them."

"Oh, you're a lifesaver," she spoke in something close to a moan as she took a bite out of her sandwich.

You gave a small chuckle at the woman seated beside you, "I'd thought you'd say that. I'll have to start bringing food over to these meetings of ours because it's not like I can do it out in the open."

"People would think something was going on between us," Rosie hummed.

"You're right about that. Everyone is so bored around here. Gossip is like their life sauce."

"Would you be surprised if I told you that it was the same before the war?"

"Not at all," you laughed.

Rosie finished her sandwich, and you dreaded what was coming next.

"I need to tell you something," you almost whispered.

She bumped her shoulder against yours when you didn't continue.

"Well? What is it?"

"It... it's about your husband..."

You watched her carefully as you said that, all the while emotions, flew into her while she processed them.

She held back more tears, ones from the look on her face that she had shed more times than she could count. Face contoured into one of concealed pain. Looking away from your gentle, caring eyes while rubbing her hands together.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

"I'm afraid so." You nodded, looking out before you, into the starry night sky.

That's when you felt a tiny jolt beside you. Looking over at the blonde, you watched as a tear trickled down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered.

With a gasp and a wet sniff, Rosie wiped her tears away.

"What happened?"

"There was a raid, some members of a resistance was there, your husband included. None of them made it... they saved the people they intended to, however."

She nodded with a sad yet proud smile.

"How long ago was this?"

You swallowed. Hating the words you were about to say.

"A little over a year ago."

You winced when you heard her sobs, ones being held in so hard just so no one could overhear her cries.

And, sickeningly so, the worst thing of all was that you didn't know how to help her.

Placing a hand upon her back, rubbing small comforting circles into her shoulder. Feeling her lean into you, face now pushed into your neck.

"I'm here. Everything's going to be alright."

You left not too long later, after already spending way too much time up on that roof.

Rosie wished you a "goodbye" with the promise that she would be fine. However, she didn't reply to you when you told her not to finish the rest of the wine. That she had been pounding for the majority of the day.

Before you arrived "home" and promptly collapsed onto the bed.

***

The afternoon sun was warm upon your face as you walked the streets of the German town. Watching as children ran around, women worked, and well, gossiped, and Nazi soldiers came and went.

Soon. You thought. This will all be over soon.

That's when you heard the murmured words from the women you had just walked past.

"Yes, the Gestapo. They're here right now."

"Who for?" the other woman asked, voice slightly higher at the aspect of such "juicy" gossip.

Sometimes it surprised you just how detached some of these people were from human lives. But then you took a step back and saw everything that was happening in the world. And you weren't surprised anymore. Just disappointed.

"The traitors wife. Beltzer."

And now you were scared.

"-They should be taking her to the square, right now."

It was like the world had slowed down as you turned to look at them, meeting their curious eyes.

The last thing you heard before taking off at a run towards the town square was a fading, "Like husband, like wife. I guess."

The people you passed by looked at you like you were insane. To see a, what they thought, General, sprinting down streets and panting like crazy, it set them on edge.

But you didn't give a damn about what anybody thought.

You just had to get to the square.

And quick.

***

By the time you got there, you had a light shine over your skin. Thanks to the sweat from both the running you had done and the worry that coursed through you.

"Remove your hands from her," came your faux German accent.

"She is a traitor to the Reich," one of the Gestapo's, seemingly the leader, replied assuredly.

"And what proof do you have of this?"

Rosie was terrified. You could see that as clear as day, no matter how she tried to keep calm. It was written all over her face.

So, you forcefully pushed their hands from the heavily breathing woman and pulling her to stand by your side and away from the group of men dressed in black suits.

"I'll have you know, we have very probable tips from some of the community-"

""Probable"?!" you shouted, causing the on edge woman beside you to jump slightly. To which you pulled her closer to you as a form of comfort. Your hand, coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Yes. Probable. We cannot have risks."

"Well, I say that it is bullshit."

"You have no jurisdiction or authority over our department."

"And I never said I did. I am saying that I vouch for this woman."

"But the tip-off's-" another man began.

"You choose to believe lonely and bored housewives over a General?!" You watched as their faces fell, and they tried to grab onto any straw they could to change your mind.

"There is still a chance-"

"There is no chance!"

"And can you be so sure?!"

"Do you really believe that I, a General, would be with her if you were right?"

"With her?" a third Gestapo asked curiously.

You knew what you had to do to get her back home, safe and away from the men trying to execute and make a spectacle of her. Just like the poor people hanging to your right.

"It means that I have been seeing her. Romantically, if you still do not fully understand, what I mean."

They didn't say anything for a few short moments, only stumbling and stuttering over their own voices.

"So, tell me. Who are you choosing to believe?"

"Uh. Y-You General."

"Good." You nodded once. "Now, I'm going to take her home. Goodbye, gentlemen," you spat. Turning on your heel, with Rosie under your arm, and walking away.

"Are you okay?" you whispered. Not drawing any attention to yourself or Rosie.

"I'm fine. Thank you for saving me," she replied in the same way.

"I wouldn't have done anything else." Your hand slipped down to the blondes dip in her lower back, helping to guide her back home. "Where are the flyers? Did you have any on you?"

"Yes. I threw them down the drain before they could see."

"Good. You did good." A squeeze to her hip before your hand returned to her lower back, just to keep up the appearance of the lie. "They're not gonna find them."

***

Rosie had relaxed more by the time you were at the bottom of her street when you saw a distinctly expensive car parked outside of Rosie's house. A car that everyone knows belongs to that of Gestapo's.

"Is Jojo home?" you asked, just stood there starring at the sight, with Rosie by your side.

"Yes," she husked.

"Shit."

And that's when you both broke out in a run.

You, being faster than Rosie, arrived at the building first. Barging through the door, with her hot on your heels.

Pounding your way up the stairs, only to come face to face with a gang of men, identically dressed to the Gestapo's, you had just saved Rosie from. Along with Jojo and Elsa, in clothes that didn't look like they belonged to her. Not to mention the demoted soldier, holding an identification book.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

"What are you doing in my house?!" you and Rosie said at the same time. Your yell angrier, compared to her more so worried one.

"We are searching the premises," the lead man, who wore round glasses, spoke. Face confused as to why Rosie was still alive. But as soon as he saw the anger chiselled upon your face. He could take a successful guess as to who had stopped the execution.

"Mama, they were just checking Inge's identification," Jojo said as his mother rushed towards him. Her hands, on his cheeks, as she checked him over.

"Oh, yes. Of course." Rosie pulled Jojo along to bring Elsa into her side, just as you had done for her mere minutes ago. "Are you both alright?"

She gained words and nods of confirmation from the two children.

"I think it's time that you all left."

"But-" one Gestapo said, looking to Rosie.

"But nothing," you continued, "I'm sure your associates will fill you in on their mistake. Now, if you are finished, I ask that you leave this house."

"We were just about to, anyway," the leader said, leading the way out for everyone. But not before the ID was handed back to the assumed Inge. With you trailing after, to slam the door behind them.

You turned, leaning your back against the wooden door, sighing deeply.

"Are they gone?" Rosie called down, leaning over the railing, to peer down at you.

The stairs creaked below you, the layer of carpet doing nothing to quiet them. You spoke your confirmation, as you reached her, "They're gone."

The kids looked like they had just been caught with their hand's in the cookie jar.

"So..." the caring woman started, "You two know about each other."

They nodded.

"For how long?"

"A couple of weeks, at most," Jojo said.

"How did you even find out about her?"

"I-I found the hatch-"

"He crawled in-"

"And I found her-"

"He was terrified."

"Was not!"

"Was too."

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Okay, enough," Rosie raised her voice, gaining the bickering children's attention.

Taking a breath, she ran her hands through her soft blonde hair.

"And you never told anyone?"

"No." Jojo shook his head. "I didn't want you to get into trouble..." It was at that point, he realised you were silently stood behind his mother, watching as everything unfolded and who you were.

Rosie caught this and looked over her shoulder at you.

"Don't worry," she told both of the kids, crouching down before them. Elsa's face one of mild terror.

This is when it hit you that these kids were exactly that.

Kids.

Kid's that were too scared of their mothers, or motherly figure, scolding them, than the actual, apparent danger that lurked not too far away.

"They're not going to tell anybody. They know. And won't let anything happen. To any of us." she manoeuvred to face you. "Right?"

You nodded. "Absolutely. I will do my best to protect all of you."

"Speaking of." She slowly rose to her feet, walking towards you.

The hand that Rosie placed upon your arm was gentle, almost like she was worried she would hurt you. Fingers curling into the jacket of the uniform you loathed.

"I have to speak with the General. So, you two stay up here. Understood?"

They nodded.

"Good." She pulled you through the open door, but before she could close it fully, her head popped through the door, "Oh. And we're not done yet. We still have a lot to talk about."

Then the door clicked shut.

"You're really good at that."

"What?"

"Being a mother."

"I know. You've told me before."

***

Things had changed rather quickly when you arrived downstairs.

Sat upon the blue cotton cushions of the wooden framed couch. Watching as Rosie paced around in front of you, fingertips rubbing against her full lips, worry etched across her face.

Your eyebrows shot up, and your body straightened when she turned to face you. Arms now down by her sides.

"So, we're together, huh?"

"I'm sorry," you replied, German accent dropped, "But that was the only thing that would get them to back off and drop the suspicions against you."

"I know." She nodded, completely understanding. Before her minimal composure dropped, and the worry came back. "What do we do? Jojo obviously thinks you are a traitor now. What if he tells someone?"

"He won't." You stood abruptly, taking Rosie's shoulder's into your hands, squeezing them gently. "He didn't tell anyone about Elsa when he had so many chances to do so. Hell, he had the chance, not even five minutes ago. But he hasn't said a word, purely just to keep you safe... he doesn't understand that this could hurt him and Elsa too. He doesn't know what's happening."

"But this is different-"

"Yes, it is different. It's better he thinks I'm a traitor, helping his family, than him knowing I'm an undercover soldier."

"You mean a spy?"

"Don't you start with that shit." You pointed at her playfully.

Rosie's smile dropped when a thought popped into her mind.

"Do you think they will still come back?"

"It is possible," you said honestly, "Which is why we should leave as soon as we possibly can."

"And go where?"

"Anywhere that isn't here."

"What do I tell the kids- What do I tell Jojo?" she clarified.

"The truth. You tell them that they could come back and that we all need to leave because we could all be in danger."

With her head in her hand's, the blonde scoffed tearily, "God. This fucking war."

"I know. I know."

You pulled her into your chest, letting her cry into you. Arms wound around your torso tightly.

"I hate it, For so many reasons."

"I know," you repeated again, "I feel the same."

"When will it just end? When will people be safe again?"

Deciding that it would be best to tell her the truth, you said, "I don't know. Soon I hope."

And there you sat, for a small while longer, allowing the blonde to cry into your chest.

***

You had left.

Gone to go gather some of your things, thinking it best to stay with Rosie and the kids while you were forced to stay in town.

All the while Rosie, spoke to the kids about leaving.

"I don't understand why we have to go!"

Was what you were greeted with as you entered the home.

"Because it is not safe for us here anymore," Rosie's voice came, calm but firm.

"But they won't come back."

"That's not entirely true," you spoke, entering the kitchen. Placing the leather bag you carried and the wicker basket upon the small table against the wall, you continued, "There's always a chance, no matter how small."

The young boy watched you silently for a minute. Not knowing what to say.

"Trust me, Jojo. I know how all of this works. I just want to keep you all safe, so does your mother. And this is the best way to do it.2

Jojo sighed.

"Where will we go?"

Rosie looked at you intently when her son asked this, wondering the same thing.

"We'll get out of town first. Then we'll focus on a safe place for us all to go."

"Jojo, would you. Would you go to your room, please?" Rosie asked, "I need to speak with the General, alone."

Just as the blonde boy was about to protest, he was cut off.

"Now. I also have to start preparing dinner."

He huffed and walked from the room, bounding up the stairs rather loudly.

You felt bad for the woman as you watched her grip the sides of the oven, bow her head, and give a great sigh.

"Where's Elsa?"

"She's in her hiding spot." Then she turned to face you. "Y/N, K know that Elsa isn't Inge."

"What?"

"She got Inge's birthday wrong, and he didn't say anything."

Your eye's wandered as you took in the information that was just given to you.

"Do you think he will say anything?"

"I don't know," you said with a shrug, "But I don't wanna take any chances. It's too risky."

"I agree." Rosie nodded once. "So, when do we leave."

"As soon as possible. Tonight if we can. Only pack the essentials. And not yet, we can't raise any suspicions."

Rosie's only reply and indication that she had heard you were a good few nods.

And then.

"What's in the basket?"

"Oh," you said chipperly, "Don't worry about cooking. I brought dinner."

***

Turns out "tonight" wasn't a viable option for skipping town, as with loud, almost deafening sirens of dread filled the sky came the air-raid strike.

"Wouldn't it give us a good cover, though?" Rosie had asked, preparing for bed.

You had resigned yourself to staying over, as a sort of bodyguard, while still in town. And the threat was still very much weighing in the winds.

You looked over your shoulder at her. Being spotted by her through the mirror of her vanity, where she sat. Removing her makeup and then applying some face cream.

"I'm not the only one by a window," you told her. Then moved to peer through the window, at the moving lights in the black, midnight sky. "I'm sure I heard Elsa and Jojo in the attic watching them."

"They are," she confirmed.

"See. We're not the only ones. Too many eyes. A good distraction," you admitted, "But almost impossible. And with two kids added to that? No chance."

A hum came from Rosie.

"So, what are our options?"

With a sigh, you began explaining, "People will be too jumpy tomorrow, so our best bet would be the day after."

The blonde, now ready for bed, came over to you. Moving to stand right in front of you, looking out the window herself.

"Wouldn't it be too risky, staying here that long?"

It seemed it was your turn to hum, shrugging your shoulders.

"I'd rather stay here a few more days than risk it out there. But there is a good side to these change of plans."

"And what's that?"

"Now, we can sneak stuff to the car. And won't risk being caught doing it all at night. That way, all we have to do is get in, then drive off."

"Good plan. Partner," Rosie spoke in a slight mocking about sultry tone. Which only made you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

"Yeah. Yeah. You're welcome."

"Seriously," you halted at Rosie's serious tone, raising your head to peer at her, "Thank you for everything."

"You don't have to thank me." Your lips ticked up in a small smile before you lightened the sober mood and atmosphere. "And you definitely won't be thanking me if I accidentally kick you in my sleep."

Rosie laughed at your words, watching as you said into bed beside her.

"Do not worry. If you kick me, I'll just kick you out of the bed."

"Now that's just rude."

Waking up the next morning was strange for you, to say the least.

With the bright sun shining through the thin drapes, across the cosy room, and onto the bed. Duvet lumpy above your forms.

And then there was Rosie.

The blonde pressed up against your side, head resting on your shoulder, arms curled around one of yours, still fast asleep.

Now that.

That was very unusual for you.

But then again. You were too sleepy to process anything at that moment. So instead, you just watched her breathe soothingly, looking so peaceful by your side, with your eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted in curiosity.

It was a wonder how someone could look so contest face asleep like Rosie was, with everything that is going on in the world.

The world wouldn't be that way for much longer, you thought, it was only a matter of time before everything was over.

And the same thing could be said for the blonde sleeping by your side.

The wooden door barged open, alerting you fully awake, as Jojo strutted in. Only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of you. In bed. With his mother.

You could see the slight anger in his eyes, purely out of protection for his beloved mother.

"Good morning, Jojo," Rosie said sleepily as she moved to sit up, looking at the boy with a sleepy smile.

You grunted as she pressed her palm into your abdomen to raise up into a seated position.

"What are they doing here?" he asked, nodding his head towards you.

Rosie looked over her shoulder at you, tired eyes evaluating you. Before she turned back to her son.

"There's something I forgot to tell you yesterday."

You watched the mother and child with slightly wide eyes, not uttering a word, just looking like you wanted to escape this situation.

"What did you forget?"

"The General here-" she patted your abdomen where her hand still resided. "-And I, are seeing each other."

It was a few good long moments as Jojo processed the words. You thought he was going to be angry. It would be natural. You would understand. He was a young boy, one who undoubtedly missed his father and would not be happy with his mother being with anyone else.

But you also had to understand that he idolised you, if only for your -albeit fake- position in the German military.

And yet, you were still surprised and confused by what he said next.

"A lion?"

Rosie smiled brightly, nodding her head, "A lion."

"A lion?"

That was the first thing you said that morning, and it was full of confusion.

But it fell on deaf ears.

Jojo nodded once at his mother before turning on his heel and walking from the room, without saying what he initially came in for.

"What?"

Rosie smiled at you.

"Come on, we should get moving."

The bed shook and bounced as she got up from the bed, preparing to get ready for the day.

"I'm so confused," you almost whimpered, only gaining a soft giggle in return.

***

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[lucemferto]

I talk about the current troubles of the Dream SMP.

If you want to help me out, please reblog! You can also retweet my tweet and upvote my reddit post. Thank you.

Script under the cut

I really hope Technoblade succeeds in breaking Dream out of prison.

Now why would I say that? Well, it’s because there’s this feeling in the fandom right now that Dream SMP Season 3 is … going slow. That there’s not much happening. Some have blamed it on the pace of how lore streams are doled out, saying we get too little lore stretched out over too much time. Others postulate that it’s the quality of the lore – that the individual plot points are badly told or that the high production value of certain streams prevent the story from gaining momentum.

Now, because I’m me, I think I identified the problem as something that’s structurally wrong with Season 3 as opposed to Seasons 1 and 2. In order to explain that we must look at one of my favourite narratological theories: the Three-Act-Structure.

But before we get into that, here’s your obligatory reminder to please like this video, comment your thoughts down below in order to help me with YouTube’s algorithm and subscribe if you really like my stuff. Please feel free to check out my social media presences and share my videos on there so that more people have the chance to see them. Thank you so much.

Let’s get back to the video:

 Chapter 1: The Three-Act-Structure Explained

The Three-Act-Structure as a model to explain narratives finds its roots far in the past with its earliest recorded instance being in the fourth century by the Roman grammarian Aelius Donatus though similar ideas were also expressed by everyone’s favourite Greek philosopher Aristotle.

Since then, the model has been continuously evolved and used throughout recorded history. There are also alternative models such as the Five-Act-Structure, the Six-Act-Structure, the Eight-Act-Structure, the … Nine-Act-Structure, Jesus Christ. But the Three-Act-Structure has reigned the undisputed champion in modern-day creation and analysis of narratives.

The particulars of the Three-Act-Structure as we know it today were codified in Syd Field’s 1979 work “Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting”, which has since become the Go-To-Work when it comes being a screenwriter in Hollywood. You want to write a script? You need the read the “Screenplay”.

The modern Three-Act-Structure is comprised of the following points/sequences:

-       The Backstory/Exposition: Exactly what it says on the tin. Sets up the Ordinary World that the characters inhabit, let’s us know about what character’s general deal is. It serves as an introduction to the story and world of your narrative.

-       The Point of Attack: This one is not often talked about and doesn’t feature in every story, but it’s still worth mentioning. This is where the major tension/conflict/dramatic question (structurally, these terms fulfil roughly the same function) is set into motion. It usually doesn’t include the protagonists of the story, but rather the antagonists.

-       The Inciting Incident: This is where the protagonists are sent on their way. We are introduced to their personal conflict and given a reason as to why they would have to leave the Ordinary World behind.

-       The Turning Point: This marks the end of Act I, where the personal conflicts of the protagonists and the major conflict of the overarching story intersect and coalesce. It is the natural fallout of the inciting incident, the big dramatic status quo change that we need in order to get the story going.

This naturally leads into Act II, where all the minor character conflicts are resolved and integrated into the larger conflict. This is what is referred to as the Rising Action: through the resolution and incorporation of the minor conflicts into the major conflicts, the story gains momentum. The action rises.

This act has two big culminations:

-       The Mid Point: The first culmination or Mid-Point sees some sort of shift in the major conflict. Maybe all the minor conflicts set-up in Act I are resolved and thus the major conflict becomes the full focus or the major conflict gains an additional factor. Instead of defeating the evil bad guy, the Heroes now have to defeat the Bad Guy and save the Damsel

-       The Lowest Point: The Lowest Point marks the end of Act II. Here the villains are just short of victory or maybe even achieve victory. In a romantic movie, this is the cliché end of Act II fallout which naturally leads into chasing the Hero chasing the love interest into an airport.

With the Lowest Point, the Heroes begin the third act almost or fully defeated. The stakes are high and everything seems hopeless. But then comes:

-       The Twist/Resolution: Usually, the twist coincides with either the protagonist or some sort of character having a eureka-moment or resolving their personal conflict – their Want vs. Need.

-       The Climax: With their problems resolved, the protagonists can venture forth to stop the villains or antagonistic force or save their love life.

-       The Dénouement: After the villain’s defeat/the resolution of the final conflict, the protagonist returns to the ordinary world, but changed by their experiences. The Dénouement is the one part of Act III, that can really drag it out – think the many, many endings of Return of the King for instance.

Up until now, I usually focused on that end of Act II/Act III-part when discussing the storytelling of the Dream SMP such as the Final Disc War, November 16th or Doomsday. Because Doomsday wasn’t just the Lowest Point in terms of storytelling quality.

But for Season 3, I instead want to focus on this section, The Inciting Incident and The Turning Point. Because this is where the current storytelling falters. The narrative has failed to pick up momentum, something that is achieved through a successful Inciting Incident and Turning Point.

So, I want to make the theory palpable and apply the Three-Act-Structure – with focus on Act I and early Act II – to all three Seasons of the Dream SMP to see where Seasons 1 & 2 succeeded and Season 3 failed.

 Chapter 2: The Three-Act-Structure Applied

Despite being much less written out and planned and more focused on the roleplay-aspect, both Season 1 and Season 2 somehow stumbled into recreating the Three-Act-Structure pretty well (S2 had its problem, but on the whole, it was still generally discernible).

I’m not here to discuss why narrative conventions and tools of literary analysis are applicable to something as seemingly idiosyncratic as the Dream SMP, I will do that in a future video. For the purposes of this video, we will simply have to take it at face value that these tools are applicable.

Season 1, which was probably the most consistently and competently written out of the three seasons thus far, has a very clear major tension/conflict: Who gets to steer the fate of L’Manburg, whether that be through stewardship or dissolution. It ties deeply into the personal conflict of our protagonist Wilbur as well as the external threat as represented by our villain JSchlatt, the best character in the story.

And not just that, basically every character whether that be Tommy, Tubbo, Niki, Fundy, Dream or Technoblade is invested in seeing this major tension resolved.

All this is achieved through a wonderful inciting incident and turning point. The inciting incident, the personal conflict for our protagonists, is Wilbur calling a presidential election. He wants to solidify power; his personal conflict being gaining full control over L’Manburg – I will talk about it more in my Wilbur-video.

This leads to the Turning Point, which in this case is a very natural cause and effect: Wilbur loses the election his sense of self shattered and JSchlatt, best character, takes over L’Manburg declares himself Emperor and exiles Tommy and Wilbur. The protagonists are forced out of their Ordinary World and the dynamic of the server is changed forever. The Main Tension or Major Conflict has been fully established.

This has server-wide consequences that every character is impacted by. All the many personal conflict are now framed by this all-encompassing major conflict. Thus, everything feels like it’s building up towards the same climax. Whether that be Fundy’s personal conflict as a deep-undercover spy, Niki’s conflict as the resistance in Manburg, Quackity’s struggle for power under Schlatt or the threat of Schlatt trying to expand Manberg into Dream SMP territory.

This even applies to the most disconnected conflict in Act II: The War between Sapnap and Tommy. Because even here, Sapnap’s stated goal is to gather enough power to take over Manberg. Now, that the power dynamic has shifted once it has signalled to other antagonists that the power dynamic can shift once more. The Balance of the Ordinary World is disrupted.

And from the Pogtopia-side, this conflict serves as a great way to not only build up their team, but also as a mini-version of their major conflict. If they cannot defeat Sapnap, what chance do they stand against Big Bad Emperor Schlatt.

Season 2, in spite of all the problems that it has, also managed to pull off the inciting incident and turning point rather well. The Inciting Incident here being Tommy burning down George’s house – his intent being to gain some leverage to win his discs back – which then again lead very gracefully into the Turning Point: Tommy being exiled from L’Manburg.

Tommy’s personal conflict – regaining his discs – was folded into the major conflict: Breaking Dream’s grip over the SMP (and in effect creating a new power dynamic on the server).

Tommy’s exile led to Tubbo being pushed by Quackity to institute the Butcher Army – an antagonistic force intent on making L’Manberg the strongest nation on the server; in effect dethroning Dream. This would of course lead to Hog Hunt and Technoblade’s involvement; ultimately bringing a lot of momentum into the narrative.

Now, Season 2 doesn’t pull this off as graciously as Season 1: You will have noticed that both the Inciting Incident as well as the Turning Point are pretty exclusively focused on Tommy which leads to the major conflict revolving mostly around Tommy and the characters in his orbit – which is not ideal when dealing with an ever-expanding ensemble cast.

While Season 1’s Inciting Incident and Turning Point also had Wilbur as their centre point, they were open enough to allow for other characters such as Quackity, Sapnap and most crucially Schlatt to naturally integrate themselves into the narrative.

What also doesn’t help is that the Rising Action up until the Midpoint is almost exclusively focused on Tommy as I discussed in my Philza-video. There is dramatic and narrative momentum, but it comes at the expense of basically every other character or storyline. The Butcher Army and New L’Manburg are painfully underexplored.

But still, despite its flaws, Season 2 managed to get the ball rolling. So where did Season 3 go wrong?

The main problem that Season 3 has is that it presented us with a large number of potential inciting incidents, but no concrete turning point. We have a lot of personal conflicts, but are as of yet missing the big major tension or conflict that ties it all together; that gives the framework in which the personal conflicts of the characters can intersect and resolve.

I think just to showcase how scattershot Season 3’s storytelling is right now; I’ll have to list all the big plot points of the season as they happened:

1.    Tommy meets with the Egg and shows an immunity to it. The Egg orders the Eggpire to kill Tommy in order to proceed with their plan

2.    The prison gets into lockdown mode, while Tommy is visiting Dream

3.    Tommy gets killed by Dream

4.    Tommy gets resurrected by Dream

5.    Technoblade and Ranboo come into contact with the Egg

6.    Quackity comes into contact with the Egg

7.    The Syndicate meets up and checks out Snowchester

8.    Tubbo loses a nuke

9.    The Red Banquet

10.  Tommy breaks into the prison

11.  Wilbur gets resurrected

Now, quite a number of those could have worked as either inciting incidents or turning point with some narrowing the scope of the narrative more than other. The early points involving Tommy for instance would have pushed him again into the role protagonist akin to how it worked in Season 2, while others like the Syndicate, the Red Banquet or Wilbur’s resurrection would have established the respectively involved groups or characters as the drivers of the major tension.

But none of these avenues are taken. All these conflicts are still insular; their resolutions don’t build to anything.

Tommy’s resurrection – which in my opinion is the first plot point that could have been used as the Turning Point relatively easily – changes the course of the prison and Las Nevadas-storyline, but has little to no impact on the Eggpire, Syndicate or Nuke-storylines.

Similarly, Tubbo losing the nuke could have led to the major tension becoming every faction hunting for the missing nuke in order to fulfil their personal agendas. But again, no dice.

And this just keeps adding up and up. Each new plot point subconsciously leads the viewer to expect that this will be the one to establish a major, unifying tension for the season – and then nothing comes of it. Though the volume of “lore” is still relatively high, the narrative momentum that is needed in order to make the viewer invested in the storyline is diminished with every potential turning point that is ignored in favour of more set-up.

And this structural problem of Season 3 when compared to Seasons 1 and 2 is made the most apparent when looking at …

 Chapter 3: The Eggpire

Oh, my poor boys. Where did it all go wrong?

To give some context: The Eggpire or Crimson-storyline actually started in the middle of Season 2, where they managed the impossible: Establishing a storyline with some narrative momentum and impact outside of the major conflict.

So, how did they do that and do it successfully at that?

The first thing we need to understand is that the Season 2 Eggpire-storyline basically involved no one from the “principal cast”. As such, the story was not chained to the developments that were going on there – such as Exile, Hog Hunt, the Green Festival, etc. – and instead had more freedom to do their own stuff.

The Eggpire-storyline in Season 2 was for the most part self-contained. So much so, that people were viewing it not as a part of the on-going narrative, but rather in the vein of Tales from the SMP: A story that stands alone, the resolution of which would have no impact on the server as a whole.

And, to be fair, they could have gone that route. But the writer(s) behind the Eggpire-storyline decided to be more ambitious.

The Eggpire-storyline in Season 2 follows its own mini-version of the Three-Act-Structure, with BadBoyHalo serving as its protagonist. The big narrative movements coincide and are influenced with dramatic movement in his own personal conflict. He is the Wilbur of this storylines – the once good man (relatively speaking), who falls from Grace.

Now, the thing that makes the Eggpire-storyline in Season 2 quite brilliant is that they ultimately tied the resolution of their tension into the major conflict/tension of the Season 2.

Doomsday saw the Lowest Point of the main storyline of Season 2. With L’Manburg’s destruction and Dream’s future imprisonment, there was a huge power vacuum on the server – a power vacuum that BadBoyHalo, now fully under the control of the Egg, was ready to fill.

The climax of the Eggpire-storyline in Season 2 saw the rise of the Eggpire as they spread the seeds of the Crimson in the L’Manburg-crater, intent on taking over server – thus adding onto the dramatic tension that Doomsday already established, making the Lowest Point feel even more foreboding and successfully linking their erstwhile separate storyline to the main tension of the overall narrative. The villains for Season 3 seemed to be perfectly set-up.

And then Season 3 rolled around and they … bungled it completely.

Though the Eggpire eventually came into contact with almost every active character in Season 3 – such as Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, Technoblade and Quackity – they completely failed at driving the major conflict and establishing themselves as the main antagonistic force of the storyline the same way Schlatt and Dream had done in the Seasons prior.

The biggest missed opportunity in that regard is without a doubt the Red Banquet. Now, I talked in the past about how the Red Banquet failed just on its own – at least a specific aspect of it – but now we’ll have to talk about how the Red Banquet fails in the context of Season 3.

Because this was the moment that all the storylines could have been brought together. The Eggpire could have succeeded in their endeavour and established themselves as the most prominent force on the serve. This event would have impacted the server as a whole and thus the entire storyline.

Immediately we would have had a major conflict to drive all other storylines – such as Tommy’s storyline, Snowchester, the Syndicate, Kinoko Kingdom and Las Nevadas – to stop the Eggpire from fully taking over the server. All the character-specific conflicts could have then happened within the framing of this major tension.

Maybe Tubbo and the rest are hunting for the nuke, because they think it’s the only way to stop the Eggpire. Maybe the Eggpire wants to free Dream, because he could be of use for the Crimson. Tommy could get abducted by the Eggpire because he is some sort of chosen one or whatever and the onus would fall on the other characters to save him and stop the villains – so Tommy would become the damsel effectively.

Maybe they decide that the only way to defeat the Eggpire is to bring back Wilbur and that’s how that storyline gets integrated. Maybe the disparate forces disagree on that or other plot-points and there’s some infighting between them.

But still: All conflicts would be unified by this one major tension. The Red Banquet would have been the Turning Point to lead into Act II of Season 3, where all the problems would be viewed with the knowledge that the Eggpire and the Crimson was looming in the distance.

Alas, we did not get that. Instead, the Red Banquet turned out to be just another plot point in a long line of plot points that promises more in the future. Smaller personal conflicts are resolved just within the limited scope of their individual storyline and a major tension is yet to be seen.

When Bad says that there’s just one more Egg-stream planned, I hope he’s either misleading or not being clear enough on what he means. Because if this was it; if the Eggpire-storyline just kinda dies here – too connected to all other storyline to be seen as standalone and yet too separated to be enjoyed in the context of Season 3 as a whole – then it would be a worse writing choice than Doomsday.

 Epilogue: How the Prison Break can bring it all together

To bring it all back to the sentence I opened this video with: I hope Technoblade succeeds in breaking Dream out of prison, because this could finally be the Turning Point that introduces a major tension to the narrative of Season 3.

I hoped that Wilbur’s resurrection would fill that role, but disappointingly that plot point is again relegated to driving the tension of a few chosen storylines instead of providing a major tension for all players involved.

And with five months into Season 3, this Act 1 has gone on for far too long! For comparison, the entire written storyline of Season 1 encompassed 4 months. Season 2 took place in only 2 months. Season 3 has already exceeded both their runtimes and still seems to have yet to truly start.

Whether Technoblade breaks Dream out or Quackity succeeds in trapping Technoblade in Pandora’s Vault – there needs to be a turning point somewhere in sight.

Because my biggest fear is that we’re already past it. That the Eggpire-storyline will just fizzle out and that some other plot point will retroactively reveal itself as the turning point – because that would mean that Season 3 would have a horrifically unfocused, saggy and just generally unengaging second act. And that would be a shame.

Thank you so much for watching. Once again, please feel free to like, comment and subscribe. The links to my social media are all in the description down below. I have a bunch of stuff planned for the future including a very long video on Wilbur as well as two videos that have nothing to do with Dream SMP.

Until then, please be excite.

[mha-quotes-and-such]

my headcanons about what 1-A students would be if not in the hero course (but some of them are stupid)

-kirishima: firefighter. he toughens his skin as an extra layer of protection against flames and can just,, walk through them if someone is trapped on the other side.

-kouda: hed have a degree in zoology. next question.

-bakugou: hed still want to fight people but I dont think he'd like being on the ground too much so wrestling isnt an option. he would box.

-tsu: marine biologist. she would be the best in her field and also volunteer everywhere she could on the weekends.

-jirou: an exterminator (hear me out... get it?) she can hear exactly where pests are in walls, floors, ceilings, etc. and we know she isnt bothered by bugs as seen with her working with kouda against present mic.

-mina: alas, she is Too Dummy Stupid (and proud of it!!) to understand chemistry so she would open her own dance studio for little kids.

-sero: works in an office. 9-5. but hes constantly high so it makes it bearable when people make jokes about his elbows. he's still punched a guy over it, though.

-hagakure: government agent. she is harder to pin down because she isn't given much personality (that I've seen) but her quirk would be good for undercover missions or whatever the government does.

-uraraka: manifesting that she'd be the CEO of a successful company and Get That Bread but pay her workers so far above the minimum wage.

-kaminari: youtuber. I'm not going to elaborate.

-iida: probably something boring but Professional like a lawyer. except his own morals get in the way sometimes so he fudges a few cases if he thinks someone is truly guilty regardless of evidence presented.

-tokoyami: stand up comedian. the constant back and forth between him and dark shadow would be very entertaining to watch and his delivery for jokes would be perfect. the audience laughs at him for being emo.

-ojiro: some form of martial arts instructor I dont know what he trained in but he would teach it to younger kids looking to learn.

-shouji: this man is a jack of all trades huh? anyway he would probably be a first responder. he's just Like That and his quirk is useful for listening for survivors of natural disasters and such.

-todoroki: this boy is a trust fund baby he'll most likely never work a day in his life. although he would donate a lot of his dad's money to charity. he volunteers at hospitals.

-aoyama: he's a model why do you ask (he also has his own fashion line, not a lot of people buy from it though).

-satou: some of these are SO easy. professional chef/baker, obviously.

-yaoyorozu: she is also a trust fund baby, but she values hard work so. theres a lot of things she could do with her quirk but for some reason I see her as a writer??

-midoriya: there is nothing that will stop this boy from becoming a hero. that bring said, he would be a teacher. good with kids, is passionate about learning... need I go on?

-mineta: dead. and I killed him.

I could totally see Kirishima as a firefighter! I definitely think he’d want to use his quirk to help people, same with Shouji. I could see him as anything from disaster relief to paramedic

He would need some healthy way to get out his anger, so boxing works, but I could also see him doing most types of fighting (some of the more disciplined ones not so much)

Tsu would totally wanna do something with water (and animals!) I could see anything from marine biologist, to working at an aquarium, and maybe even a sailor (she does have experience after all)

Jirou would do something related to her quirk. While I think she’d probably pursue music (maybe not in a band, she could totally do sound engineering or something) I do think exterminator works

Hagakure would make a great spy and Uraraka a great manager. You can’t convince me other wise

Iida would be an absolutely terrifying lawyer which would work well

Todoroki and Yaoyorozu would both probably do a lot of volunteering and philanthropy (is it still philanthropy if it’s technically not your money??) And Yaoyorozu could totally be a writer or journalist!

As for Mineta, thank you you’ve done us all a great service

[acreativeme]

Anti-undercover

TW: Mentions of death, getting shot, and blood.

Anti-Undercover 

Ivan Ortiz x Reader

Y/N stood in the doorway of the Director’s office, listening as he and her unit chief, Jess LaCriox, talked about her new mission. She has to fake her death and go undercover in an underground anti-government group. With her familial history, they think that she is the best option for this mission.

“You will not be able to tell anyone about this mission.” The director stated, leaning forward against his desk. 

Y/N shared a look with Jess, knowing that it is going to pain her to not tell Ivan. “I understand, sir.”

The director handed her a thick file, dismissing them as she grabbed ahold of it. “You have a week to prepare.” He said, just as she was shutting the door.

She nodded sharply, closing the door tightly behind her. She couldn’t stop from thinking about the what-ifs and how Ivan is going to handle her death. When he joined the team, something clicked within both of them and they became incredibly close. The spark blossomed into something more shortly after they became friends. 

The next day, they got a case. A man was targeting women, who he deemed were trying to ‘end to male species’-- which kind of pissed her off. She talked with Jess about how this case could be her way to fake her death, because of this man’s disdain for women. He was quick to agree, but brought up that they have to be careful. 

When they had narrowed down some locations, Jess and Y/N were lucky enough to have actually found him. He was holding a female CEO of a Management Company hostage in her Town Home. 

With their guns raised, they silently move towards his ranting and raving about how she should only be managing men with her body. Y/N frowned at his statement, kind of wanting to shoot him in the nuts. Jess nudged her, signalling her to take charge. 

Y/N stepped into the kitchen, because of course he wants to put the woman in her place. “Graham Holmes… FBI… Put your gun down and step away from Ms.Holloway..” Her voice was firm and authoritative.

His face grew red at her tone. “You have the audacity to use that tone with me!” He screamed.

Y/N smirked, “Considering that I am more important than you, I think that I have every right to use any tone I want with you. I mean seriously, my cat Ginger has more brains than you.”

He growled, like literally growled, at her, moving his gun so that it was focused on Y/N. “You think you are sooo special, but I bet any of your male counterparts are ten times the agent you will ever be.” 

Y/N shrugged, brushing off his comment. “They can’t be ten times better than me, because I trained them. I am better than any man on my team. I am far superior than any of them.” She said it slowly to make sure it rubbed him wrong.

He screamed, pulling the trigger of his gun. The bullet hit her stomach, causing her to fall backwards just after getting a shot off herself. She hit him dead center.  

Jess moved in quickly, calling for two squads and that an officer was down. He cut Ms. Holloway free. “Where are your kitchen towels?” He asked, looking around the busted up kitchen.

She pointed to the drawer next to the sink. “In the top drawer.”

Jess nodded, grabbing three towels. “Thank you.” He fell to his knees, pressing the first towel to the wound. “You did great, Y/N. But please don’t actually die.” He whispered the last sentence.

She winced, smiling up at him. “You taught me well, Jess.” She coughed up blood. “I think the bullet hit my lung.” She gasped, trying to take in air. 

Panic filled Jess’ eyes, “Don’t talk. Breath in through your nose.”

Her eyes started to droop. “Tell Ivan that I love him and I am sorry.” A tear rolled down her cheek, mixing with the blood that she had coughed up. 

The team stood around a blown up picture of Y/N, sharing memories of her. Jess had to stand back and watch as the team mourned someone who wasn’t even dead. He watched as Ivan drank and glared at the photo of the one person he loved. His heart ached, because he knew what Ivan was feeling and he wanted to make it go away.

Jess walked up to Ivan, who had just taken a long swig of his beer. “It will be okay.” He squeezed his shoulder.

“I was going to propose.” Ivan replied, voice raspy from holding back tears.

Y/N was coming back. She had gotten enough evidence to shut down the anti-government group within 6 months. She couldn’t help but be proud of herself, because any other agent would have taken over a year to collect the amount of evidence that she got. The leader had warmed up to Y/N quickly, especially after finding out that her father had led one of the largest anti-government compounds /groups in American history. She had told him that her father had her infiltrate the FBI as a spy, but was killed before anything could come of the information that she had stolen. 

It was partly true. Her father was the reason behind her joining the FBI, but not for that reason. She had hated what her father screamed about and she wanted to put him away. She was also not going to share that she had been the one that killed her own father--- which only happened because he was using her 4 year old sister as a shield. 

Y/N took a deep breath, straightening her mask-- cause COVID.. She pushed open the door, walking in slowly. “Anyone here?” She asked, looking around.

The team, who had been about to go over a new case froze, had been scattered around a large room. “Y/N?” Hana asks, slowly standing from her place at the table.

Y/N waved awkwardly. “Hey, guys.” 

Hana almost tackled her into a hug, sobbing in relief. “You are alive!” 

The rest of the team, minus Ivan and Jess, took turns hugging her.  Just as Kenny was pulling away, Y/N saw Ivan storm out of the room. She shared a look with Jess, who nodded at her to follow him. 

Y/N found him outside, glaring at a tree. “What did that tree ever do to you, Ivan?” She asked softly, walking slowly towards him.

Ivan tensed up, eyes squeezing shut in anger. “It pretended to be dead for 6 months and thought it could walk back into my life without warning.” 

She sighed, heart breaking at the pain in his voice. “You were supposed to know that I wasn’t actually dead. I made a list and gave it to LaCroix.”

He groaned, finally looking at her. “LaCroix knew that you were still alive?”

Y/N nodded. “He was the one that recommended me for the mission.”

“What was the mission?” He asked, fully turning towards her.

“Shutting down an anti-government cell that was inspired by my father.” Y/N responded, not holding back. “He and the director thought that I was the best option given my history. I didn’t want anyone else to suffer like my sister, like me. I had to do my part in shutting down something that my father had inspired, Ivan.”

Ivan slumped against the tree, anger draining from his body at the sight of her big eyes. He understood where she was coming from, as he had to do things for this job that he normally wouldn’t.  “I am still mad.”

She chuckled, eyes swelling up with tears. “I figured. I am so sorry, Ivan.” She took a cautious step towards him.

He nodded, signalling her to walk closer. “I forgive you.” He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest in fear of her slipping away. 

“I love you, Ivan.” She whispered into his chest, tears falling freely. 

He kissed the top of her head, tears falling too. “I love you more.”

[dreamywriterinthedark]

Losing you pt II: Dressed to kill

Introductory part

Pairing: Spencer x fem!reader

Category: angst.

Resume: Reader goes undercover to trick an unsub and help the team catch him but things go dramatically down hill. She regrets not listening to Reid’s advice, he helps her cope. Basically, this is what would happen if Linda Barnes was the leader of the team and you joined.

Trigger warnings: Linda Barnes slander, death, blood, injuries, trauma, weapons; a gun and a knife, medication. (please let me know if i forgot something <3)

You checked yourself in the bathroom mirror. You wore a little black dress with glimmers that suited your morphology better than anything you’ve worn before. You ran your hands on your silhouette anxious at the thought of being so close to a serial killer. The worst part is that you had to pretend you liked him so he could trap you. You felt slightly dehumanised like you ridiculously were the cheese on a mouse trap.

“Are you done, Y/n ? I’d like to see how the dress looks on you.” JJ asked knocking on the door. You unlocked the door seeing Tara and JJ stand right in front. JJ slightly gasped and Tara’s mouth formed an ‘oh’ in reaction to your sultry beauty.

“Well, Tara, if you were ever considering an alternative career stylist might be just for you.” said JJ complimenting Tara’s choice.

“Are you okay, Y/n ? You look horrified.” Tara asked concerned putting a hand on your shoulder. “Oh, I’m fine. Let’s go see the guys,” you answered stepping out between them your heels clicking on the floor. They glanced at each other shrugging exchanging a contentment frown.

Spencer was rambling without catching a breath to Luke until he slapped his shoulder when he noticed you were out and ready. Luke made his way towards you. “Well, will you look at that ? Looks like I’ve got competition on the team’s most attractive member.”

“Shut up.” you answered playfully to which he laughed putting his hands up in defeat.

Spencer stood behind but not as far as he was before when he was chatting with Morgan. He licked his lips, hands in his pockets looking at you and only as if everyone around him disappeared. He saw you before and the fact that you wore a tight dress did not change that. His stare was more of the analytical type. As you walked down the few steps you almost tripped catching yourself thanks to the rampart. You closed your eyes with a hand on your chest to calm your heart throbbing at your ribcage. Before anyone had the time to say anything you laughed it off; “Stupid heels, pretty but could kill you in a flash.”

 The team went along and laughed with you except Spencer who only furrowed his eyebrows. You did not trip because of your shoes but because you were dizzy. You hardly slept or took care of yourself before this; you were too anxious. Spencer giving you the cold shoulder did not help either. You did not understand that very well, you thought things were good between you two. It’s not like you could guess every single that ra through his head when your own was spinning already.

Once you were all in the elevator Spencer whispered in your ear “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to ?” You felt his warm breath on your neck, this closeness along with his voice made you feel fizzy inside.

“This is the only way.” you whispered back nodding your head now looking into his eyes.

You were going to meet the unsub at his favorite hunting spot; the dive bar. You were sitting aside Tara at the back of the SUV while Penelope was at your right violently typing at her laptop. At the front was Luke at the steering wheel. He pulled up by a secluded spot a few blocks away from the bar. Penelope was rarely on the field but you were glad she was. She was not only an anchor for you since the beginning, but your first true friend within the FBI. She liked to call you “kitten” or her “little protégée.” Plus she was taking care of your spying devices such as your ear piece and the mic she would hide in your dress including your GPS tracker.

Luke’s phone started ringing, he answered. After a very brief conversation he debriefed it to you three. “It was Barnes, they’re ready. Once you get out of the car, Y/n, the rest of the team is going to join us in this car to listen to your conversation enhance the unsub’s confession. Except JJ is going to be on the field undercover to update us on your every move.” You nodded to let him know you understand the instructions. “Then we’ll follow you to the location the unsub takes you to and arrest him. Tara and I will be out there in hiding in case anything happens. Got it?”

“Got it.” You said gesturing toward the door at your right. Penelope got out with you, before you left she said “Just know, we’ll be right here listening to everything but please be safe. I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

“Penelope, you’re not going to lose me.” You hugged her tight, “Plus you know if I died I’d haunt all of you.” You chuckled as you detached yourself squishing her hand before walking away for good.

Everything went according to plan, you gave the eye to the unsub, you perfectly fit his idea of the perfect victim. You acted naive and what if you were ? Because even though the whole time you had the worst gut feeling you still went thinking that was going to grant you validation from the leader of the team, Linda Barnes. The cold hearted one that can not trust a woman yet you trusted her, how pathetic.

The unsub took you to a dark alley but before Tara and Luke could get out of the SUV, Barnes told them to stand their ground.

“Why ?” Tara asked.

“Because I can’t risk the unsub seeing you and lose his confession or evidence.” he answered.

You started panicking, going from anxiety to a state of agony as the unsub pointed a knife at you.

“Well, can we go now ?!” asked Luke.

“We can’t take this risk just yet.”

“You know what ? I can’t risk Y/n being dead!” Spencer said rising from his seat but getting slammed back down by Linda.

“It’s okay, we’re not going to let anything happe-“ A gunshot interrupted this back and forth conversation. Everyone ran to you seeing you on the floor, blood slipping through the cracks of tar. Your shaky hands dropped the small gun right next to your boy bag purse. You tried to stand up but you couldn’t, you wished you could cry but you were too shocked, too numb to even let a whimper out. Spencer took off his windbreaker before running to you helping you up and slinging it over your shoulders with an arm around them. 

As he guided you towards the medics he bit back at Barnes, “Not going to let anything happen, right, Linda ?” He did not respond instead he looked down at the floor which would now let him forget the repercussion for his actions since it was tinted crimson. What the team was doing in your tear stained glory you were unaware nor did you care. You sat on the edge of the ambulance as Reid made sure you were taking care of properly like a polite version of a scientific Karen. He leaned in towards you, his head titled looking at your face.

“She has a scratch on her cheek, you might want to check for a concussion.” advised the genius doctor. He straightened his index finger a few inches from your face asking you to follow it with your eyes. As you did the exercise, he noticed your eyes fluttering to hold back tears. When the medic was done with cleaning and sanitizing your bloody hands and went back inside the ambulance to gather anything needed to heal your wounds and medication, Spencer sat down next to you in silence as you stared in the distance. His eyes landed on your face when saw you put your hand down drying a tear. You felt him looking at you.

“Suit yourself, you can say you told me so” you said breaking silence.

“You know, Y/n…” he started taking your hand in his, you looked back at him, “I’m really glad you’re alive.” This made you immediately sink into his side taking him by surprise, unable to hold back the tears. He leaned into your touch, shutting his eyes feeling your pain and mentally sending you his energy in hope it might heal you.

The medic walking towards the two of you, when she looked up from the container in her hands full of medical products she stopped in her tracks; “Alright, I’ll come back, uh, in a minute.”

“You should hydrate yourself,” he advised handing you a water bottle as you put your arms in the sleeve of his jacket. As you took it, he rose from his feet a hand on your shoulder as he said; “I’m going to go check in with the others, you’re in good hands.” You nodded looking up at the medic smiling at you, you managed a weakened smile back.

When Reid was back with the team, he noticed they were arguing. Linda took Reid’s presence as his opportunity to shut the other members down; “Ah Reid, how is she ?”

“She’s injured but she’s holding up,” he answered fidgeting with his hands. The team was concerned about you but did not want to circle around you, make you talk to too many people at once since that would overwhelm you. Your injuries were quite superficial, you were scarred, you were bruised but you were going to be okay…physically.

Once back at the police department, you took off Reid’s windbreaker folding it on his desk with a post it note that said “Thanks :)” You went back to your desk changing into some more comfortable shoes than the heels you wore all night. You tried to channel your thought but as you were about to get lost in the turmoil, a low male voice made you breakout of your trans.

“Y/n, may I see you in the sheriff’s office ?” You nodded hurtfully knowing things were about to heat up for you, fearing you were in trouble.

You’ve been in Barnes’ office for quite a bit of time or at least longer than usual.

“How long ?” Luke asked.

“Oh at least 10 minutes.” Garcia answered, “and he isn’t the very chatty type.” The entire team was in front of the steps that led to offices, some leaned on desks, some fidgeted in place in impatience.

“He was going to kill me, Barnes!” You screamed.

“We would’ve protected you!”

“But you didn’t!” You felt your heart sink, “you didn’t.” There was a beat too long for your own taste. As you were about to leave Linda stopped you in your tracks; “Maybe you should take the rest of the week off, take some time for yourself.” You looked back at her in disgust, shocked she had the audacity to blame it all on you. “Sure, my pleasure.” you responded almost slamming the door behind you. However, you weren’t as pleased as your pride made you claim you were.

Once you were doing your walk of shame, Garcia hugged you and handed you her favorite cat squishy toy knowing you were in distress. They all encircled around your desk as you gathered your things.

“She is making me take the week off.” you informed them.

“Yeah, we heard so.” JJ said nodding sympathetically.

“We’re with you, Y/n.” Tara said.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let us know.” Garcia told you moving her hands. “Snacks, blankets, a shoulder to cry on.”

“If I do I will, thank you Garcia but I think I’ll be fine.” When you were ready to leave, Spencer offered to drive you back which you decline. They all stood there watching you leave confused at how ‘fine’ you looked despite experiencing a near death experience.