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gigabyte-flare · 7 months

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He Comes Alive (Part 9) [FINALE]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Summary: You are found by Ada Wong, an agent from the BSAA sent to escort you to Tricell's laboratories. They promise to remove the plaga from you and your unborn child, but only if you help them first.

Word Count: 8.5k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, pregnancy, monster f*cking, body horror, lactation kink, C-Section DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

Author's Note at the end!

You scramble back over to the driver’s side upon hearing the woman say ‘BSAA’ and open the door, climbing out of the truck. You see in addition to the red button up v-neck top and black gloves, she’s wearing black leather pants with knee high black boots with heels. She has a pistol in a shoulder holster. You watch her brown eyes shift to your hands.

“You’re infected,” she says; it’s not a question.

You look down at your hands, the inky veins pulsating, letting out a subtle gasp before hiding your hands in the sleeves of your shirt.

“Hopefully you’re not too far along to do something about it. Grab your bag; we’re leaving,” the woman called Ada commands.

You reach into the truck, grabbing the back pack before shutting the door of the truck, following closely behind Ada.

“Wait, Leon can’t be that close by, can he?” you ask.

“No but there’s an APB on that truck and we don’t want to be around when the cops finally catch up,” Ada replies as she leads you to a black Chevy Corvette, “get in.”

You open up the passenger side door, tossing your backpack onto the floor before getting inside. Ada gets into the driver’s seat, starting the car before getting back on the highway. The two of you are silent for a while, you rest your head on the passenger’s side window, watching the scenery outside as you mindlessly caress your belly.

Surprisingly, Ada breaks the silence, “is that Leon’s?”

You look over at Ada before glancing down at your belly, letting out a sorrowful sigh, “yeah… it is. I’m surprised you didn’t already know, being with the BSAA and all…”

“I didn’t have a lot of time to get filled in when I was sent to find you,” Ada replies, keeping her eyes on the road as she drives.

“Is… Clive ok?” you ask hesitantly, looking back over at Ada.

“As far as I know, he’s fine.”

“Can I talk to him, possibly? Once we get to wherever we’re going… that is…”

“Unfortunately that won’t be possible. I’ve been instructed to bring you to Tricell’s laboratories in upstate New York. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

You shift in your seat uncomfortably before looking back out the window.

Ada looks over to you for a moment before continuing, “don’t worry. We’ll stop at a motel or two to rest up, I’m sure you need it.”

“What’s Tricell?”

Ada pauses briefly before answering, “it’s a… multi-industrial company, mostly dabbling in pharmaceutical and biomechanical research. They fund the efforts of the BSAA.”

You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy as you drift to sleep. You awaken when the car suddenly comes to a stop. Confused, you look over at Ada, still only half awake.

“I found a motel. Stay here and I’ll get us checked in,” Ada says before getting out of the car.

You watch her walk up to the motel office, opening the door to go inside. After a few minutes of waiting, you watch her come back out, dangling a key in one hand and motioning for you to go with her with the other. You open the car door, grabbing your bag as you climb out and shut the door, following her into the motel room.

Upon entering, Ada switches on one of the lamps next to the full size bed to give the two of you some light, the red lampshade casting an eerie glow in the room. You set your bag down on the floor next to the bed, practically collapsing into a nearby arm chair, letting out a loud sigh.

“How long have you been seeing Leon?” Ada asks, walking towards you and sitting on the side of the bed opposite of you.

“Since like… September or October I think… so much has happened; everything is a blur.”

Ada nods, her gaze shifting to her feet, “I see…”

“Do you… know Leon?”

Her eyes shift back up to yours before nodding, “I do… it’s complicated.”

One of Ada’s hands reaches up, pulling her v-neck aside a little until you can see what looks like a large burn scar, causing your breath to hitch.

“I met Leon in Raccoon City during a viral outbreak 15 years ago, crossing paths occasionally. A couple years ago, he and I hooked up and that’s when I found out he was still infected with Las Plagas. He had infected me.”

“And that scar is…?” you ask, swallowing hard to stifle your nerves.

“When it was removed by Tricell. Assuming you’re not too far along, they should be able to do the same for you, too.”

You look down at your hands, the faint inky veins still showing, pulsating. You clench your fists and tuck them back into your sleeves.

“I hope so…”

You wrap your arms around yourself, breathing deeply to calm yourself. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes until your curiosity gets the better of you.

“What was Leon like before… you know…”

Ada smirks, chuckling a little before responding, “at first? Like a little lost puppy. He was a rookie cop who was late for his first day on the force; unfortunate that he had to deal with a zombie outbreak on his first day of being a cop--”

“Wait a second… zombies?!”

Ada blinks at you a few times before continuing, “right… I forgot that wasn’t public information. Yes, zombies. The whole city had gotten infected with a virus developed by the Umbrella Corporation.”

“That big pharmaceutical company that went under? It was because they made a virus?”

“A bio-organic weapon,” Ada corrects you before continuing, “anyway, Leon became more charismatic as he got older; became quite the ladies man. Had the looks for it, too, as you clearly saw.”

You can’t help but smirk at that.

“But he had a heart of gold; it’s a shame that--”

Before Ada can finish her sentence, your head starts pounding. You cry out, gripping the sides of your head. Your eyes also start watering.

Ẅ̷͇h̸̬̪̐ē̴̦͠r̸̢̦̕ē̷̻͜ ̴̨͆ȃ̶̆͜r̴̮̈̈͜ē̴̡͋ ̴̢̞̒͂ÿ̵̨́ö̴̹́u̷͖̕͝?̸̰̎͐!̶̥̋́

“Fuck off!” you scream, the pounding in your head getting progressively worse as your finger nails dig into the sides of your head.

I̸̼̓ ̴̨̍a̴̙͌m̷̖͑ ̸̛͖g̶͓̃o̴̦̓i̵̬͗n̶̦̒ģ̵̒ ̷̳͒ẗ̴͈́o̷̘̒ ̸͓͊f̸̤͊i̶̞͛ń̸̲d̴͇̒ ̶̙͌y̵̪͒o̶̰͝u̸̲̇.̵̹̒

“Shit!” Ada says, standing up from the bed and rushing to you, one hand grasping your shoulder while the other swings up, holding something that looks kind of like a pen.

You feel a sudden sting in the side of your neck and what follows is instant relief. The pounding in your head subsides. You let go of your head and look down at your hands, seeing the inky veins slowly fade.

“Thank god I brought that with me,” Ada says, taking a step back and looking down at the device she just used on you.

“What is that?” you ask, out of breath from your ordeal.

“An inhibitor. It will slow the progression of the plaga, but not for long. We need to get you to the Tricell lab and fast,” Ada steps aside, motioning to the bed, “get some rest, we’ll get on the road first thing in the morning.”

“Right…”

You stand up from the chair, your body still weak from the outburst you just endured, staggering over to the bed and collapsing onto it on your side, falling asleep within minutes.

Ada waits until she knows the girl is asleep before stepping outside. She looks around, spotting a pay phone at the end of the walkway in front of the motel rooms. She walks up to it, digging a couple quarters from her pocket and feeding them into the machine. Picking up the receiver, she dials a number. It rings a few times before answering to dead silence.

“It’s me.”

“Do you have the girl?” a man asks, his voice rough, but full of authority.

“I do, however there’s one problem,” Ada replies.

“I don’t do problems, Ada, you know that,” the man growls.

Ada rolls her eyes, “Listen, Simmons, it’s not my fault. She’s infected and the plaga is taking over at an alarming rate. I had to use the inhibitor Luis gave me.”

There’s silence for a moment, she can almost picture Derek Simmons, the National Security Advisor for the President of the United States, stroking his chin in thought while wearing that ridiculous ring on his hand.

“We proceed according to plan.”

“What about her?” Ada asks, the alarm evident in her voice, “if we don’t do something, she’ll be completely under Leon’s control.”

“Ada… are you trying to tell me you’re concerned about the girl?”

Fuck you asshole… Ada curses internally, her eyebrows furrowing as her hand squeezes the handset on the phone. She quickly comes up with a plan.

“What if we make a deal with her? We use her as bait to lure Leon to us in exchange for removing the plaga from her.”

Again, Simmons pauses, probably mulling over Ada’s idea. Then she hears his trademark chuckle, causing chills to run down her spine.

“I like how you think, Ada. That should work beautifully. To add to it, Dr. Sera believes he’ll be able to extract the plaga from her unborn child as well; that’ll make Wesker happy at least.”

Ada can’t help but smile, “that’s great, that will give her more than enough of a reason to cooperate in Leon’s capture.”

“Now then, hurry up and get the girl here, the clock is ticking.”

Ada hangs up the pay phone, turning around to head back inside the motel room. She walks up to the armchair that the girl had been sitting in earlier and sits down. She tries to rest her eyes, but sleep eludes her; instead, she watches the girl sleep. She’s sleeping on her side, her shoulder slowly rising and falling with each breath she takes. Her eyes slowly shift to her belly, which is clearly visible under the blanket. Despite only being a few months along, she appears to be almost to term; the work of the plaga, no doubt.

Ada’s thoughts shift to Leon and she finds herself reminiscing. From that bright, shy, yet noble police officer fresh from the academy to an abomination hell bent on ensuring the survival of its species, she finds her heart breaking for him. The Leon Scott Kennedy she knew was dead and gone, corrupted by the plaga inside him.

She doesn’t realize she nodded off until she hears the girl whimper in her sleep, jolting her awake in the chair. The girl’s eyes are squeezing themselves shut, her hand gripping into the sheets as her body trembles, the tell tale dark veins pulsating on her hand. Cursing to herself, she looks over at the clock on the bedside table, reading just after 4AM. There’s no time to wake her up, they need to leave and get to the lab immediately.

Ada springs up from the chair, tossing the blankets off the girl and carefully picking her up bridal style. Ada kicks the door open, making her way over to her Corvette, struggling to get the door open. She sits the girl in the passenger’s seat once she gets the door open and rushes over to the driver’s side. She turns the ignition, the car roaring to live which causes the girl to rouse from her slumber.

“Ada…? What’s going on…?” the girl asks, her voice soft.

“I’ve got to get you to the lab, just hang tight.”

Ada pushes her foot on the brake, reaching her other hand to the stick shift to put the car into drive. Her gaze shifts to the rear view mirror; what she sees chills her straight to her core. Standing just inside the edge of the forest, illuminated by the red brake lights of her car, is Leon. The front of his shirt coated in what she can only assume is blood, his mouth hanging agape as blood drips from it, showing off his elongated incisors. The more she looks, the worse it gets; she spots his tail whipping back and forth and four large claws coming out of his back, outstretched.

“What’s wrong?” the girl asks, panic starting to settle into her voice as she wakes up.

“Nothing,” Ada replies sharply, furrowing her brows, throwing the car into drive and slamming her foot on the gas.

The car peels out of the parking lot, turning sharply to get back onto the main road. She has no idea how fast she’s going and she doesn’t care. She has at least another two hours of driving to do, if not more and time is of the essence. She knew the inhibitor wouldn’t last forever, but she’s alarmed that it wore off that quickly and by the fact that Leon had tracked her down that fast; she had driven well over a hundred miles before stopping at the motel.

She has no intention of stopping now. She can already hear Simmons scolding her for not using the opportunity to capture him, but it was too dangerous, she would need backup. That was the first time she had seen him transformed like that and as much as she hated to admit it, it had shaken her.

By some miracle, she doesn’t run into a single police car and the two of them arrive at Tricell Laboratories safely, more or less. She looks over to the girl just as she parks the car.

“Can you walk?” Ada asks as she opens the driver’s side door.

“I… I think so…” the girl replies, her voice weak.

It’s still the early hours of the morning, the sun is just barely starting to brighten the sky, so it’s no surprise to Ada that those inky veins are sprawled all over the girl’s exposed skin. Ada practically jumps out of the car, rushing over to the passenger’s side to help the girl out, wrapping an arm around her waist to help steady her balance as she guides her over to the Tricell building. Upon getting to the door, Ada slams the side of her fist into the call button, and a few seconds later, a voice comes through the speaker.

“State your business,” says a gruff male voice.

“It’s Ada Wong. I have the girl but she needs medical attention immediately.”

A loud buzzing sound comes from the door and Ada kicks the door open and rushes the two of you inside. Within moments, a group of men and women in lab coats come rushing in, pushing a stretcher with them. Ada guides the girl to the stretcher and several of the lab technicians help the girl lay onto the stretcher. Ada’s eyes shift to one of them in particular, an older man with dark skin and long dark hair. She watches as he pulls an inhibitor from his lab coat pocket, jabbing it into the side of the girl’s neck, injecting the serum into her.

“You got her here just in time,” he says to Ada; he has a thick Hispanic accent.

“I wasn’t sure if we we’re going to make it, Luis…” Ada says, her breaths heavy.

“Take her into one of the infirmary rooms and prep her for surgery; make sure you have the UV lights on,” Luis commands the other technicians, watching as they wheel the stretcher away.

“You won’t be able to operate yet,” Ada says once she and Luis are alone in the hallway.

Luis looks to her, raising an eyebrow at her, “and why not?”

“Simmons wants to use her as bait to lure Leon into Tricell’s custody.” Ada says as the two of them begin to walk down the hallway together.

“What does he need Leon for? Does this have to do with why that pompous prick is helping Wesker with Uroboros--”

Ada stops in her tracks, grabbing Luis by his upper arm, squeezing it as she snaps at him in a hushed tone, “keep your voice down!”

Luis glances around to make sure no one is in earshot before continuing, “what on Earth would he want with Leon?”

“I have no idea, something nefarious, no doubt. But I’d much rather keep my head than question him and get on his bad side,” Ada replies, the two of them resuming their walk down the hall.

They come upon a set of doors; Luis swipes a keycard into the receptacle next to the door and the doors slide open, the two of them walking inside what appears to be a laboratory. Once inside, Ada lets herself relax a little, however the image of Leon in the red glow of her brake lights comes rushing back to her, causing her to visibly shiver. Luis looks over at her, once again raising an eyebrow at her.

“I saw him, Luis…” Ada says, her gaze shifting to make eye contact with him, “he’s on par with Saddler.”

“Shit…” Luis mutters under his breath, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter, putting one in his mouth and lighting it.

“What I don’t understand is… if Leon was still infected when he rescued Ashley, why didn’t he go brain dead like the others when he killed Saddler?”

Luis takes a long drag from his cigarette, grabbing it from his lips before exhaling a large cloud of smoke, “Leon and Ashley were infected with a special kind of plaga, ones that could act independently once fully turned. My guess? The plaga inside Leon could sense it was the last of its kind and mutated into a dominant, giving it the ability to infect others and breed.”

“I see…” Ada replies, her eyes looking to the floor absentmindedly as she wraps her arms around herself.

“What I don’t understand is why didn’t he tell anyone? Did he even know he was still infected? I could have saved him… it should have been me running the machine, not Ashley…”

“There’s no use beating yourself up over it. It was nine years ago--”

“But he saved my life, Ada!” Luis exclaims, throwing his hands up, “I should have died that day in the mines, the least I could have done was meet him in the lab and run the machine; that burden should never have been on the girl’s shoulders...”

The two of them stand in silence in an unspoken agreement to drop the subject. Ada drops her arms to her sides and starts to walk over to the doors leading out of the lab.

“I’m going to go check on the girl, are you coming or not?”

Upon opening your eyes, you're immediately blinded by not only bright fluorescent lights, but by the purple hue of powerful ultraviolet lights, causing you to wince and softly groan. However, your eyes quickly adjust and you attempt to sit up in the bed you’re in, only to find you are hooked up to all kinds of medical equipment.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

You turn your head towards the familiar voice, finding Ada standing next to your bed, her arms crossed as she looks down at you. Relief washes over you, as the last thing you could recall prior to waking up was the immense pain rushing through your body and Leon’s voice pounding in your brain.

“Ok… considering…” you reply, your voice hoarse and your throat dry.

You unconsciously lick your lips, finding them chapped and sore.

“Here,” says another voice with a strong Hispanic accent, “I got some water for you.”

You turn your head to the opposite side of the bed, finding a man with longer, dark hair and tanned skin; he’s holding out a glass of water to you, which you don’t hesitate in taking and gulping down.

“This is Dr. Sera, one of Tricell’s lead scientists,” Ada explains, motioning one of her arms towards the man.

“Please… just call me Luis. I’ve never been one for formalities,” he replies smiling at you, “how do you feel about getting an ultrasound done?”

You slowly nod, taking deep breaths, “I feel ok enough to do that, but what for?”

“I believe that we may be able to save your child. Depending on the development of the fetus, we might be able to extract the plaga and spare your child’s life. That’s my hope anyway. Then, afterwards, we can remove the plaga from you as well.”

Your heart skips a beat. The possibility of being able to save your unborn child didn’t even cross your mind, it gave you hope for the first time since this madness started.

“Absolutely, if there’s any chance of saving my baby, I’ll take it,” you reply, the hope within you energizing you further.

“Alright, let me just bring over the ultrasound machine, señorita.” Luis says, walking over to the opposite side of the room.

Your tired eyes watch him attentively, feeling Ada place her hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing it.

“Alright! Let’s say hello to little Kennedy, shall we?” Luis says, his tone cheerful as he positions the machine next to your bed before powering it on.

You watch Luis take out a bottle of gel, using his other hand to lift your shirt over your swollen belly. He rubs the gel onto your belly, the cold gel causing you to flinch slightly. Grabbing the wand for the ultrasound machine, he presses it into your belly, moving it around slowly while watching the screen. At first, you don’t really see anything on the screen but then suddenly, you see her.

The clear image of your unborn child comes up onto the monitor; your eyes frantically searching for anything that would appear off about her. You weren’t sure what to expect; a tail… claws… but you see neither of those things. For all you knew, she looked like a normal, healthy baby. Your gaze shifts over to Luis, who has a subtle smile on his lips.

“The baby is almost to term and no sign of late stage infestation; I truly believe if we deliver soon, we have a chance of safely extracting the plaga from your child,” Luis explains, a hint of hope in his voice.

“That’s great, let’s deliver right away!” you ask, your tone eager.

“That’s the thing…” Ada interjects, “Tricell needs you to do something for them before Luis can deliver your baby, remove the plaga from them and from you.”

Your heart immediately sinks, your hand unconsciously rubbing your belly despite it still being covered in that gel, “Like… what…?”

“We need your help to lure Leon into Tricell custody. We can’t have him running amok any longer and risk him killing and infecting more people. Can you do that for us?”

Of course they’re using you as bait…

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and mulling over your options. If you don’t agree to this, the only thing that awaits you and your unborn child is death. You truly have no other choice.

“Yes. I’ll do it.”

He watches her through the spaces of the grocery store rack, his body tingling with excitement; so much so he can barely contain himself. He was also doing his best to hide his presence from her, but with the sun beginning to set, that was becoming increasingly difficult. Her back is facing him as she browses the breakfast cereal aisle, completely oblivious to the azure eyes watching her every move from behind the grocery aisle behind her.

His eyes remain locked on her as she turns to the right, walking out of the aisle carrying a small basket full of various items. She walks up to the cash register, paying for her items before leaving the store, making sure to hang back quite a bit to avoid being seen. He watches her climb into a small sedan and he gets into his “borrowed” car, following behind the sedan as it pulls out of the parking lot.

Again, he tries to remain a decent distance away as to not raise her suspicions; but now that he is in the comfort of his own vehicle, he allows himself to let loose, the inky veins spreading across his skin and his eyes shifting to crimson, softly glowing in the low light inside his car.

The sun has completely set by the time he watches his quarry pull into a hotel parking lot, parking his car in such a way so he can watch her car and the front door of the hotel. He watches her get out of the car, carrying a grocery bag in one hand. His breath hitches upon seeing her pregnant form.

“Daddy gets to see you soon, Nora…” he says softly to himself, his grasp tightening on the steering wheel.

Closing his eyes, he focuses his thoughts on you, penetrating your mind with ease; his gift almost having its hold on you completely.

T̷̨̠͚̜͖͂̈́͌̋͗h̷̛̗̮̘̖̰̊͝e̴̛̯̐ ̶̫͇̻̱͑̾͘͠ṛ̸̡̘̒̔̑͠͝ͅͅo̷̝̅͐̔̑͠ö̴͖̙̺́̍͌̀͠m̶̖̭̈́̽̊͜ ̸̟̣̰̉̊͆i̴̢̓̓̚͘͝s̴͕̮͛̅̔̽.̶͖̙̜̏͘.̴̨̼̣̑̈́͝.̵̲͓̫̫̔ ̶͙̓̅y̷̧̞̓̂ë̶͙́̑͛̂̚s̸̠̊͌ ̷̧̨̕ͅI̶̢͓̼̲̍̅̀́ ̵̰͌̔͐́c̵̩̹̻̀̈̈́h̶̹͓͎̣͛̈́͝ë̷͔̦̮̮c̵͕͑̀͐ḱ̴̹͕̃ ̷̯̈͠o̵̱̺̩͔͎͆̈́͘u̸̝̳͆̋̓͂t̷͔̪͚̮̤͑͂̂̋̑.̷͕̈́̾͘.̶͙͔̖͈̈́̅̋.̶͔̥̤̩̖́͐̈͊͂ ̷̩̪͖̮̈́͜ȓ̸̜̒͛͑͝ǒ̷̹̲͇̏̀͋o̵̦̖̻̬͂͌m̶̯̒͋̀̂ ̵̛̝̙̰̇̉̀͘1̶̤͕̤̌̅̐͝0̶̻͚̰̝̤͐0̸̛͈͈̖͖́̓͘͝6̵͎̥͊͠?̸̛͎͕̜̊̂̚͠ ̷̘̉͋̈T̵̞̋̇̋ḩ̸̺̄͊͠ȃ̷͕͈̪n̴̠̙͂̈́̀́̄k̷̛͈͙̂̌ ̶͎͓͖̌͝ͅỳ̴͕̬̳̖o̸̫̪͉̜̅͜-̴̗̞͆̍̀̇-̴̢̹̣͂͐̊

A smirk crosses his lips as he withdraws from her mind. Now that he has your room number, getting inside should be simple. He waits another couple of hours before making his move. Getting out of his car, the inky veins no longer visible, he nonchalantly walks into the hotel, walking right up to the front desk to a tired looking receptionist. He glances over to the clock; it’s 11:00pm.

“Hi there,” he begins, leaning against the front desk, “my wife checked in a few hours ago. I broke down on my way here so I wasn’t able to meet her here like we originally planned. I imagine she’s sleeping now and I don’t want to wake her; think I can get a copy of the key?”

The receptionist lets out a loud sigh, rubbing her temples, “what’s the room number, mister?”

“1006.”

He watches the receptionist dig inside a drawer before pulling a key out that has a tag on it with 1006 printed on it, “here you are, enjoy your stay…”

“Thank you very much,” Leon says cheerfully as he swipes the key from her before walking over to the elevator, hitting the up button.

The elevator doors open and he steps inside, hitting the button for the 10th floor, putting his hands in his denim pockets as the elevator ascends. The doors open and he steps into the hallway, quickly finding room 1006. Putting the key into the door knob, he turns it slowly and enters the dark room, quietly closing the door behind him.

As he had suspected, she’s sleeping soundly in the king size bed on her side, facing away from the door. A smile appears on his lips as he approaches the bed, sitting down onto it and gently caressing your arm with the tips of his fingers. She stirs, rolling over to see what he can only assume are his soft glowing red eyes. She inhales deeply to scream, and he slaps his hand over her mouth, pressing his index finger to his lips, softly shushing her.

“Hey, hey, hey… I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassures her, “there’s nothing to be afraid of, angel.”

He watches her gaze shift to her arms, now sprawling with the dark veins. She starts to hyperventilate, tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes. His hand comes up to cup her cheek, using his thumb to wipe away her tears.

“Please don’t cry, I promise you, it’s going to be ok. The gift will bring us closer together, I assure you.”

“B-But…” you stammer, her eyes locking onto his, completely enveloped in fear, “I don’t want to hurt anyone…”

“Oh sweetheart…” he says with a sigh, shifting closer to her and wrapping his arms around her, giving a soft kiss to the top of her head and he runs his fingers through her hair, “I’ll do all the hunting for us, you don’t need to worry about hurting anyone.”

He places his hand on her belly, feeling his unborn child stir from his touch, instantly warming his heart.

“Look at you, growing our baby girl so well. So beautiful…” he coos, lifting your chin with his fingers before kissing you deeply.

He gently coaxes her to lay onto the bed. Sitting up on his knees momentarily, he pulls his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside before he then begins to remove the rest of his clothing. Once nude he cages her body with his own, the parasitic veins sprawling and pulsing across his skin as he gently removes her clothing as well.

“Let me show you how beautiful our gift is, angel,” he purrs, gently pulling your legs apart.

He wastes no time propping her legs onto his shoulders, practically diving into her pussy, running his tongue over her slit, stopping on her clit to suck the sensitive bud. He feels her thighs quiver on his shoulders and before long, he can hear her soft moans fill the room; music to his ears.

Letting out a low growl into her clit, he brings his hand up to gently stroke her slit before pushing two fingers inside her, curving them upwards. Her hips buck upwards in response, her entire body tensing up. He watches in delight as the veins on her skin grow darker, the gift further ensnaring her.

With a loud moan, he feels her come undone on his fingers, her juices heavily coating his fingers. He pulls them out, licking his fingers clean before he proceeds to climb onto her. As he settles his hips between her legs, his tail snakes out from his lower back, gently moving from side to side. He watches your eyes widen in fear, but he quickly brings his hands to her cheeks, gently caressing them.

“Please… don’t be afraid, angel,” he coos as he sheathes himself inside her.

In that instant, his back claws burst from his back, acting as a cage around her as he begins to thrust into her slowly. He stares down at her longingly, one of his hands gently caressing her belly. With each thrust, he increases the speed and intensity. He closes his eyes, leaning his head back and letting out a low groan as he inches closer and closer to his release.

The sound of a gun cocking, followed quickly by the feeling of a barrel being pressed into the back of his skull causes him to stop instantly. A low growl emanates from the back of his throat, his lips twitching and curling into a snarl as his eyes slowly open. He doesn’t even need to turn around to see who it is pointing a gun at the back of his head.

Ada Wong.

“Well, well, well… that’s one hell of a greeting,” Leon practically snarls, “couldn’t even wait until I came, fucking bitch.”

“Wow, when did you become such a prick, Leon?” Ada replies, the smirk on her face audible in her voice.

“The moment you discarded my gift, Ada,” he replies, another growl coming out of him, “what do you want?”

“Come quietly, that’s all I ask,” she says simply, pushing the gun into his head harder.

“Let me guess, you told my angel that you were with the BSAA, didn’t you?” Leon says, a smirk crossing his lips, “why don’t you tell her who you’re really working for.”

“Don’t listen to him,” she snaps, “it’s the parasite talking, he’s full of shit.”

“Ada…” his angel says softly, her gaze shifting over to Ada, “what is he talking about…?”

“Really Ada? How long have we known each other?”

“Are you going to cooperate or not, Leon? Stop wasting time.”

Leon sighs heavily, pulling himself out of his angel, his plaga appendages receding back into his body as he stands up straight, “If I go with you, promise me whoever you’re working for won’t hurt my baby.”

At first, Ada doesn’t respond, but he hears her exhale, “I can promise it won’t be intentionally killed, how about that?”

“Fine. Let me get my clothes back on.”

Arms and legs chained together and a crude metal mask covering the lower half of his face, Leon is led through the halls of Tricell Laboratories like some kind of wild animal. The armed guards lead him into a solid white observation room. On the back wall, there are shackles which are promptly put on his arms and legs upon being brought to them. The chains and mask are then removed and the guards quickly leave.

To Leon’s relief, they don’t have any UV lights on, so he allows himself to relax a little, his dark veins sprawling across his skin and his eyes shifting to crimson. For hours, he leans against the wall, unconsciously licking his upper canines and shifting on his feet occasionally.

Please let my angel and Nora be ok… he thinks to himself, closing his eyes.

The sound of the door across from him opening snaps him from his thoughts. He opens his eyes, immediately narrowing them upon seeing who has entered the room. He begins to growl.

“Derek Simmons… what on Earth are you doing here?”

“My, my… how the mighty have fallen,” Derek begins, standing several feet in front of Leon, crossing his arms and letting out a low chuckle, “it’s been awhile, Leon Scott Kennedy.”

“Answer the fucking question, Simmons!” Leon growls.

“I wouldn’t say working with him, it’s more like we both have a mutual interest in your condition. Wesker’s hopes are that the DNA extracted from you will help with his Uroboros project,” Derek explains, mindlessly spinning the large ring on his left thumb.

“Officially? I’m here to oversee your execution. Off the record, however, I’m here to watch you suffer as you become Wesker’s little pet project.”

“You’re working with Wesker?!”

“The fuck is Uroboros?”

“Dunno, you’d have to ask him yourself. Like I said, I just want to see you suffer, Agent Kennedy.”

“Fucking bastard…” Leon mutters to himself, glaring at him, feeling the plaga within him writhe in rage, begging to be unleashed, “what are they going to do with my angel and my daughter?”

“For starters, they’re going to attempt to extract the plaga from your unborn child, which will be used to further assist in Wesker’s ambitions, then, I believe the plan is to rid your darling ‘angel’ of your so-called ‘gift.’ She’s quite pretty, that one. I must say you sure know how to pick them, Leon.”

“You so much as lay a hair on her…”

“And you’ll what? You’re trapped here, Leon. Trapped like the fucking animal you are! You’re so pathetic, you’re not even half the man that lovely young lady deserves,” Derek taunts him, a sinister grin on his lips.

“Oh really?” Leon growls once more, his fists clenching.

He rushes forward, catching himself on his restraints, now within inches of Simmons. His tail bursts out of his back, taking a swing at Simmons’ neck, however he was able to take another step back to avoid the hit just in time. His back claws then burst from his back, his hands transforming into dark claws as he continues to fight against the shackles keeping him restrained. The sound of metal bending reverberates throughout the room as he further transforms. Leon lets out a loud roar, showing off his large and sharp incisors before his lower jaw splits in half, mandibles coming out of his mouth and his tongue elongated.

“How about now, Simmons?” Leon replies, his voice rough and distorted due to his transformation.

Simmons’ smug expression quickly morphs into one of concern as he continues to move away from Leon. The sound of metal breaking echoes in the room and in an instant, Leon pounces on Simmons, the sound of the chains dragging behind him.

“God dammit someone get in here and get him off me! He’s gonna-- ACK!”

Leon wastes no time in ripping out Simmons’ throat, his long tongue lapping up the blood hemorrhaging from his neck. Guards then come swarming in, firing several shots of tranquilizers into him. It takes a couple minutes for it to take effect on him. He knows they’ll punish him for this but it was worth it to finally get back at Simmons for accusing him of murdering the president some time ago, a B.O.W. attack perpetrated by Simmons himself that killed the president and resulted in the deaths of 70,000 innocent townsfolk. That was when Leon had gone on the run; Simmons had found out Leon was still infected with Las Plagas and used him as a scapegoat.

Leon closes his eyes as his face shifts back to normal, slumping onto the ground as he loses consciousness.

The loud cries of a newborn pull you from unconsciousness, your eyes fluttering open. Your eyes shift around the room before settling on the baby in Luis’ arms, caked in your blood and who knows what other fluids.

“Would you look at that, a healthy baby girl!” Luis exclaims, grabbing a towel from one of the lab assistants and wrapping the baby in it.

Luis walks over to you, you weakly hold your arms out to your baby, cradling her in your arms as Luis hands her off to you. She calms down instantly, you suspect because of the plaga you both share still. She has Leon’s blonde hair, however her eyes are still shut so you’re unsure what color her eyes are yet.

“Alright, I’ve got to take her to remove that pesky plaga,” he says before motioning to his assistant, “you know what to do. Get her stitched up and bring her to the removal machine and blast that plaga into hell.”

Nervousness quickly grabs hold of you, knowing there was a chance your baby would not survive the procedure, but Luis seemed very confident it could be done, so you have no choice but place your faith in him.

“Got a name picked out yet?” Luis asks, smiling warmly at you.

You look over at your baby, sleeping soundly in Luis’ arms, a warm feeling enveloping you as you reply, “her name is Nora.”

“Well then, little Nora, let’s go get that bug out of you, shall we?” Luis says to Nora as he carries her out of the room.

The assistant sews up the incision made to perform the c-section to remove your baby in record time before wheeling your bed out into the hallway. You’re then brought into a darkened room and you see a machine with a laser like apparatus on it. The assistant rolls your bed beneath the machine, positioning the arm of the laser at your chest.

“I’m going to warn you, this is going to be extremely painful. You most likely will faint. Let me know when you’re ready, ok?”

You take a couple of deep breaths, doing your best to calm your nerves before you finally nod, “I’m ready.”

The assistant flips a couple switches and you hear the machine whirl to life. Within seconds there’s a bright flash and then you feel what has to be the worst pain you’ve ever felt in your life. You let out a blood curdling scream, your hands gripping the arms on your bed so tight that your hands cramp up. Your eyes then roll into the back of your head and you pass out into a dreamless sleep.

Luis is holding up the plaga extracted from Nora, the procedure having been a success as he had anticipated. The child and her mother now resting together in one of the rooms. He looks perplexed as he examines it, turning the glass container that it’s being kept in.

“What’s the matter Dr. Sera?” one of his assistants asks, noticing the look on Luis’ face.

“I feel like something is off about this specimen. Like something is missing,” Luis replies, rubbing his chin with his fingers in the opposite hands as he continues to examine the plaga.

“We triple checked Dr. Sera, the entire plaga was extracted from the child. You have nothing to worry about,” his assistant reassures him.

“You’re right, I’m just overthinking, that’s all…” Luis replies, setting the container down onto his desk before walking towards the door, “let’s go get some celebratory drinks, drinks’er on me.”

On his desk next to the container is a diagram of the Las Plagas parasite, each part meticulously labeled. If one were to closely inspect this diagram and the parasite in the container, they would realize that the diagram had something the specimen did not:

A head.

December 25th, 1998… Ten years later…

You watch as Nora rips open her last Christmas present, your smile going from ear to ear as you hold your coffee to your lips. Nora gasps upon seeing the PlayStation logo on the box.

“No… shut up! No you didn’t, Mom!” Nora exclaims, ripping off the rest of the wrapping paper.

Other things were wrapped with the game console; a game and a memory card.

“You got me Spyro the Dragon! Thank you so much, Mom! Best Christmas ever!”

Nora jumps up from the floor, rushing over and throwing her arms around you to hug you tight.

“You’re welcome Nora, Merry Christmas,” you reply, kissing her cheek, “you deserve it. You’ve done so well in school this year.”

Nora steps back, her blue eyes gleaming with joy; Leon’s blue eyes. Everything about Nora reminds you of Leon, as heartbreaking as that is.

He’s right where he needs to be though… where he can’t hurt anyone anymore…

“Can I hook it up on the living room TV and play it, Mom? Pretty pleeeeeaaaassseee?”

“Of course you can, sweetheart,” you reply as you stand up from the dining table.

“Yay! Thanks, Mom!” Nora exclaims, scooping up the PlayStation, the game and the memory card and bringing them into the living room.

You let out a playful chuckle, walking over to your phone, picking it up off the charger and dialing a number. After a few rings a familiar voice answers.

“Hello?” your mother says.

“Hey Mom! It’s me!” you reply, “Merry Christmas! I wanted to thank you for helping me get that PlayStation for Nora. She absolutely loved it.”

“Oh good! You’re welcome sweetie! How’s the weather down in Florida today?” she asks.

“A beautiful 70 degrees,” you reply with a smile, “moving here was the best decision ever. Nora loves it down here.”

“Oh that sounds lovely! I’ll have to get down to visit soon. It’s snowing up here today, your step-father is out shoveling the walkway.”

“Oh yeah! How are things going with you and Darren? I can’t wait to meet him!”

“You’re going to love him, he’s got a great personality, really funny. The other day--”

You jump when you hear a sudden knock on the door, “sorry to cut you off, Mom, but I’ve got someone at the door. I’ll talk to you later, ok?”

“No problem, sweetheart, talk to you soon! Love you, bye!”

“Love you too, Mom. Bye!”

You hang up the phone, placing it back on the charger before walking up to your door and opening it. Standing outside is a woman you haven’t seen in a couple years, her black hair framing her face perfectly. She’s wearing a simple red tank top and denim jeans with knee high boots. You notice a 9mm strapped to her right leg.

“Ada! Merry Christmas!” you exclaim, giving her a hug, which she returns without hesitation.

“Merry Christmas, can I come in?” Ada asks.

“Of course you can, let me make you some coffee. Have a seat,” you reply as you motion to the dining table.

“That sounds lovely, thank you,” Ada says as she sits down at the table.

After you make her a cup, you hand it to her before sitting across from her at the table.

“How are you and Nora doing?” Ada asks, sipping on her coffee.

“Really well. Nora’s currently in the living room hooking up the PlayStation my Mom and I got her for Christmas. She’s doing well in school, she’s made friends. She’s a perfectly normal 10 year old. As for me, I just have a scar on my chest and that’s it, no adverse side effects as far as I can tell.”

Ada nods, “I’m really happy to hear that.”

You can tell her voice is strained, clearly something is wrong, “what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“You have that 50 caliber that I gave you, right?” Ada asks.

“Yes… why…?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Ada begins her explanation, “Two days ago, Tricell was transporting Leon to a new facility in Washington state when…”

Ada trails off, her gaze looking into the living room where Nora is happily playing her game, the sounds of the game softly traveling into the kitchen and dining room area. Ada lets out another sigh before continuing, “when he escaped; killing several people in the process.”

You let out a soft gasp, your heart jumping up into your throat.

“Don’t worry, the chances of him finding you are slim, this happened way out in Idaho. But I wanted to tell you nonetheless, as a precaution.”

“Right…” you reply, nodding subtly; your stomach is twisting in knots.

Ada grabs a piece of paper and a pen that are on your table, jotting down a phone number before handing it to you, “this is my cell phone number, if you hear, see or experience anything strange, you need to call me, ok?”

“Of course,” you reply as you motion to take the slip of paper, however Ada’s hands encase yours.

“Promise me that if you see him, you take that gun and you do not hesitate. Shoot to kill, understand?”

You take a couple of deep breaths before replying, “Yes, I understand.”

Later that night, you are tucking Nora into bed, covering her up with a beautiful floral quilt that your mom had made for her a couple of birthdays ago. She smiles up at you as you cover her up.

“This was the best Christmas ever, thank you Mom,” she says.

You gently run your fingers through her blonde hair, smiling down at her, “and you are most welcome, Nora. I’m glad you had such a good Christmas. Now, it’s time to get some sleep, ok?”

“Ok Mom!”

You lean over to turn off her bedside lamp getting up from where you were crouched next to the bed and walking to her bedroom door.

You’re at the threshold when Nora once again speaks up, “Daddy says he loves us.”

You immediately stop in your tracks, turning around slowly to look over at Nora, “wh… what did you just say?”

You must not have heard her correctly…

“I saaaid, Daddy loves us. He told me so.”

Your eyes widen and your heart is racing in your chest, “when did he tell you so, Nora?”

“Today,” she replies simply, her smile wide.

“O-Ok… good night, Nora…”

“Good night Mom,” Nora says, rolling over to face away from the door.

You walk out of her bedroom, locking and closing the door softly before proceeding to your own bedroom, closing and locking yourself in. You decide you’ll call Ada first thing in the morning. You’re hoping it’s just Nora’s imagination running wild again. But then again, Nora has never mentioned anything about Leon before now. You tuck yourself into bed, quickly falling asleep to the sound of the crickets outside.

That is, until a loud thumping sound wakes you out of a dead sleep, startling you. At first, you think it is just the remnants of a nightmare, until you hear the sound again. It’s definitely coming from inside the house. You open the drawer in your bedside table, pulling out the Desert Eagle that Ada had asked you about earlier in the day before climbing out of bed. You brought it to the local gun range to practice shooting with it once a week since you got it making sure you’d be able to handle it if the time ever came to use it.

You check to make sure it’s loaded and that the safety is off before slowly unlocking your bedroom door and stepping out into the hallway. Your first instinct is to check on Nora, maybe she had just gotten up to go to the bathroom. You slowly make your way to the bedroom, unlocking the door with a key in your pocket and quietly opening it. Nora is sound asleep, it definitely wasn’t her making the noise. You gently shut the door, locking it once more.

You hear the sound again from behind you, you turn quickly and aim your gun, but there is nothing there. Lowering your gun, you walk slowly down the hallway which leads out to the kitchen and dining room. You take a peek into the living room, thankfully not seeing anything, just the PlayStation sitting on the floor where Nora had left it. Confident that there’s nothing in the house, you turn to walk down the hallway to go back to bed.

However, you see a shadow cast from the lights of the Christmas tree of four insect-like appendages extending outwards, followed by a long tail, the shadow is also taller than you. Your breaths are ragged as you stop and slowly turn around, the gun clenched in your hands. Sure enough, you find Leon standing behind you, a soft smile on his lips that is barely visible in the low light.

It’s clear that he has aged, but admittedly he’s aged like a fine wine, still retaining his handsome features that first lured you to him in the first place. He is wearing a blue leather jacket with a black shirt underneath with denim jeans and work boots. His eyes glowing a soft red in the low light and the plaga black veins sprawling over his exposed skin.

“Merry Christmas, angel,” Leon says, his voice as smooth as whiskey, “you are as beautiful as the day I lost you, if not more. I’ve missed you both so much.”

You swallow hard, your feelings conflicted. You missed him too, terribly. There is still a part of you that loved him; you knew deep down there is still good in him; he would have been an amazing father to your daughter.

Leon continues, “how is Nora? Can I see her?”

You take a deep breath before shaking your head, raising the Desert Eagle to aim it right between his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Leon.”

You pull the trigger.

‘Glitch’ Text translation:

“Where are you?”

“I am going to find you.”

“The room is… yes I check out… room 1006? Thank yo--”

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize that this took so long to put out. I want to dedicate this part to my lovely friends @nexysworld @explorevenus @kaitkatme and @dollfacefantasy. They’re always supportive and have always been there for me when I needed it most and for that I am so incredibly grateful. I have made so many beautiful friends in the Resident Evil fandom. This fic is still one I am incredibly proud of and had so much fun writing it. Thank you for joining me on this incredible ride! I hope it is worth the wait

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #vampire!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes #he comes alive

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ventismacchiato · 1 year

Text

40 behind the lens — paper rings !

scaramouche x g!n reader

⇢ ˗ˏˋ time skip of three years ࿐ྂ

˗ˏˋ headcanons ´ˎ˗

✰ you and kuni graduate at the top of your respected classes and have been dating for almost five years now, known properly as the campus it couple

✰ neither of you moved in together until last year when everyone else started moving out of the shared content houses

✰ first xiaoae move out together, then childe, then heikazu, albenari, then ayaka going back home and venti living on his own

✰ living in the houses on your own was essentially a waste of money and space so jean ended your leases and you guys finally moved in together

✰ and after graduation, with jean’s help, you’re able to slide into the industry pretty easily with your large fanbases

✰ you start off as side characters that grow in popularity since your fans watch the shows and movies you star in just for you both

✰ i like to think kuni double majored in child psych along with film in case acting didn’t work out in his favor so he’s pretty and smart

✰ but since this is fiction it did work out for him cus dreams come true #livelaughlove

✰ id like to think star/you would also act but probably dials it down to direct full time instead

✰ you preferred to direct compared to acting so eventually you started to fund your own projects with kuni on your cast which helped you grow

✰ you try not to cast kuni in every one of your movies because then it’ll look like favoritism but he prefers to star in ones you direct

✰ you also get your friends to be extras a lot, most of the time it’s childe who begs you to let him be in the back for movies

✰ you guys probably don’t get engaged for a while despite living together, blaming it on scara’s commitment issues and the fact that your careers are your main focus

✰ alongside luna, your previous black cat, you probably adopt another white one alongside scara

✰ as for actor!scara headcanons imagine scara on hot ones, that one show on youtube, and he has a straight face the entire time as he eats the hottest wings and answers questions about you

✰i think he’d have a lot of fun on shows like that, example would be eat it or spill it by jimmy fallon, he would annihilate them

✰ he probably does all his own stunts, always giving you a heart attack as you see him falling from heights on harnesses, sometimes he convinces the staff to fool you into thinking he actually got hurt due to a broken rope as he plummets to the ground

✰ he does it so much that there’s enough content for ‘scara pretending to die in front of yn for ten minutes straight’ compilations

✰ you guys probably stream when you can but not as much with your jobs, i think star doing behind the scenes vlogs of you and scara together would be so cute though

˗ˏˋ headcanons ´ˎ˗

✰ was a communications major so he’s the PR manager for scara and you after graduating

✰ yes i know technically jean could do this but she has enough on her plate! i’m just thoughtful like that #feminist

✰ constantly trying to prevent you guys from getting into scandals, which is hard when scara cannot keep his opinions to himself

✰ aether probably has a heart attack everytime scara goes off to do interviews since scara always ignores the pre written answers and goes on tangents, which his fans love but twitter not so much

✰ xiao as an animator wud be so sexy guys. like walk with me here imagine an operation true love anime after the drama and webtoon are a hit so he gets to animate for the anime and storyboards with albedo

✰ i’m tryna intertwine all of them even after they graduate can you tell

✰ as for him and aether they probably tie the knot a little while after graduating, small wedding with just close friends and family

✰ xiao would edit one of those pretty wedding videos that youtubers do

✰ but they don’t film the entire wedding for their channels cus they gotta gatekeep

✰ id say xiao probably still streams but he mainly just draws with music in the background or works on his stardew town with aether

✰ xiao probably strains his wrist a lot from all the work he does so at promotion events he’s always wearing a brace on his hand

˗ˏˋ headcanons ´ˎ˗

✰ okay in this au let’s all pretend he’s the creator of operation true love cus rmbr he’s a writing major and a huge romantic

✰ like how sexy is that, obviously it does well cus all his fans all read it and so it gets turned into a drama

✰ directed by you of course starring kuni as eunhyuk

✰ he’s still head over heels and throwing up in love with heizou, they probably adopt a cat together when they move in together

✰ i imagine if kazuha ever wrote a murder mystery novel he’d have heizou read it to decipher if the culprit was too easy to figure out

✰ nothing really exciting about heizou’s major in this au, he probably just becomes a detective and streams on the side, known as kazuha’s partner in the entertainment industry and attends all the events when he can

˗ˏˋ headcanons ´ˎ˗

✰ obviously goes into the art industry, works on a lot of graphic novels and novel covers and sometimes album covers

✰ when kazuha’s work gets turned into mangas or graphic novels he always does the art for it

✰ he probably paints nari’s favorite flowers for him and they adorn their house’s walls

✰ i’d say he doesn’t stream as much anymore but if he does it’s probably just him doing commissions with music in the background

✰ nari’s major is also not exciting in this au, probably becomes a forest ranger or a college professor

✰ albedo builds him a greenhouse in the back of their house for him

✰ the type to bring hurt animals home and fosters them back to health

˗ˏˋ headcanons ´ˎ˗

childe

✰ stealing from my pookie mrbeast for inspo

✰ he probably does stuff like has a whole business for his videos and side hustles like merch and a food company

✰ like maybe he and diluc collab to make an energy drink or something

✰i mentioned he fancies diluc like once in a previous chapter so that’s why he’s with diluc who streams a little

✰ they probably met properly at another twitch con or creator event

✰ very wow factor oriented like he does more than just stream games, he prefers to work on big challenge videos and loves giving away money

✰ like he would host those extreme hide-and-seek challenges with all his youtuber/streamer friends in weird locations and get them to do weird dares with him

✰ i think heizou would win those types of videos most of the time, whereas scara barely tries and still seems to almost win

✰ diluc probably does one stream a month because it’s not his entire focus, probably also a business major and just appears in childe’s videos once in a while

✰ how cute would it be if childe was always at his 110% in videos and extra hyper to make them more entertaining but when diluc joins him he’s more calm and cute

venti

✰ his streaming fanbase gives him a jumpstart in his music career yk how it is

✰ does a bunch of osts for shows and movies. still streams but also is a popular musician

✰ not an idol 😍🤞 has to be a little different than jptp but does start out by opening for tours and makes it on billboard

✰ i do think he’d eventually do a world tour though on his own and stray away from streaming to focus on his music, would probably just upload vlogs if anything

✰ does the operation true love ost so everyone is working tgt and he’s single in this au cus #singlerep

ayaka

✰ honestly i don’t care what happens to ayaka she’s just there ig

✰ keep doing what ur doing queen! i’ll support you from all the way over here!

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

yes i’m using yeonjun as scaras face 🤞

also sorry if this isn’t as in depth as the jptp one i’m just tryna wrap this fic up ☠️

author’s notes — just like jptp i just wanted to do a bunch of headcanons :] this is how i envision their future and if u don’t agree talk to the wall cus idc 😊

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]

#scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #head in hands free me #behind the lens smau

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batfamscreaming · 4 months

Text

Once again trapped in trying to figure out what Wayne Industries actually Does. "Everything!" yeah sure but they had to get there somehow. Amazon was an online bookstore at first there was a lot of very rapid growth between then and now.

Usually I hear that they started as a shipping business which makes sense when Gotham is 90% waterfront, but at some point they had to transition from just shipping other people's things to shipping things they made as well. I suppose if they started making their own transports for shipping (starting with their own steamboats and later trains and cars) that would make sense. Maybe in the industrial revolution they even bought their own steel mill upon getting tired of having fluctuating prices or a steel shortage and just deciding they were going to get their own damn steel and sell the extra instead. If they chose to manufacture higher quality steel instead of cheapest possible steel that's also laying the groundwork for them to be well liked by their customers. Not railroad barons but making the steel to lay the railroad and build the trains. It's the 1800s so they have a couple patented medicines by then as well that are.... not really medicine but no one has officially noticed yet. They ship their own chemicals out west for a good time.

In 1880s Alan Wayne makes the building that becomes Wayne Tower?? Which I think is much too early, but apparently we were building sky scrapers in 1888 so business must have been booming I fucking guess. This is also the man that has them go corporate.

Of course the railroads start to fall out with the growth of cars and car lobbying. They are still used along with boats for transport but with railroads not being built as much and not being maintained and the union wars, Wayne Industries has to make a pivot somewhere to stay in the race. The family can have a lot of personal money but the business itself is still going strong in Gotham even before Bruce takes over.

I guess if they're already in shipping, they're probably importing as well by then. They may have started with steamboats but then in WWI and WWII all steel factories started producing things for the war efforts, surely they made a couple big ships by then capable of crossing the Atlantic, if they weren't already in oceanic shipping by then. It lets them ride out the great depression because of government maritime subsidies that were a little out of control until the new deal kicked in. That would've also presumably kept WI employees working in the depression and cemented them harder in the city as smaller businesses closed around them.

The patented medicine starts shifting to actual generics that are a little less Heroic post 1918.

Maybe at around that point was when WI started manufacturing... sort of everything. You get your ships, and all the things on board that you need to run a ship. You get your ovens and stoves and big pots and your radar and hell your sailors can even buy their boots and uniforms from us.

When WWII ends they shift back to transporting other people's goods but also maybe more luxury vehicles as well. Cruise services. Some nicer kitchen installations. Kitchens on land even. Get a nice WI electric mixer. Get your waterfront boots. Get your generic ibuprofen.

At that point we're closer to Martha and Thomas' era and they're just... Along for the ride I guess. Thomas is a figurehead CEO. He's off doing medical school and mostly just shows up for formalities, while Martha works in the Wayne Foundation (either the only thing Thomas really made or opened in the 60s to try and get Gotham really booming) as a charity liason. They're still not really celebrities as much as a charismatic couple in high circles. WI doesn't need them to function. It's basically just funding them as they do their own things.

And then the murders happen

And then Bruce, over eighteen, shows up having inherited the figurehead CEO title and his entire family's controlling stock in WI, and announces they're going to be doing things his way now.

The CEO/Board of directors is supposed to do things in the best interest of their stock holders.

If Bruce is the controlling stock holder, they do what he says his best interest is.

#trying to sort of talk it out to myself #wayne enterprises #wayne industries #bruce wayne

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iboatedhere · 3 months

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could I please get "heart shaped sunglasses" as a prompt? I love canon but if there's an AU that speaks to you I'd love that too

I went with a photographer/model AU.

—

Alex didn’t grow up thinking he wanted to be a photographer.

He cycled through dreams that almost every kid has—doctor, teacher, President of the United States, and astronaut. For a few weeks, when he was four, he thought seriously about becoming a T-rex.

When he was thirteen, he found an old camera in the attic that his father had left behind when he moved out.

He watched a half-dozen YouTube videos to figure out how to get it to work, then took a photography class in high school and got a position on the school paper, taking shots of football games and events around town.

He thought he looked cool, carrying around a vintage camera that used real film in the age of sleek digital devices and camera phones, and he was good at it. He received heaps of praise from his photography teacher, won awards in local contests, and even sold a few prints at farmer’s markets and craft fairs around Austin.

Alex majored in studio art in college, focusing on photography and media. He learned about color, composition, and lighting. He studied Ansel Adams, Dorthea Lange, Steve McCurry, and Robert Capa. He thought about becoming a war correspondent, embedding himself in the most volatile parts of the globe and reporting the truth through photographs—gritty, raw, and dangerous.

Where he ended up was someplace much softer.

–

Alex first saw Henry Fox on the glossy pages of one of June’s fashion magazines when he was twelve.

Vogue or Harper’s Bazaar. Maybe Cosmopolitan. He can’t remember. What he can remember is Henry Fox’s wide, blue eyes and golden hair. He remembers looking at the close-up photo of him for too long until June cleared her throat and met his startled gaze with raised brows.

He looked for Henry after that. Sneaking into June’s room or stealing the magazine straight from the mailbox when it was delivered. He’d bring it with him to the treehouse in the backyard and search.

Before Alex even had a word for it, most of the photos had felt exploitative. Henry, too young, around much older models. Odd poses and barely there clothing. Henry never looked happy. He never smiled. Alex would never photograph him like that. He never really thought about photographing him at all. Mostly, he just wanted to hang out with him. Maybe take him swimming at Barton Springs, to a baseball game in Round Rock, or ride their bikes together. He just wanted to make Henry smile.

Alex found out later that Henry’s father was a famous actor and his mother was a supermodel, making Henry one of the world’s biggest nepo-babies.

Maybe doors automatically opened for Henry. Maybe he has a trust fund or an inheritance and never has to work another day in his life. Alex is unsure of those things, but he is certain Henry is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

–

Alex lowers his camera as the art director flutters into the frame, tugging on the strap of Emily’s bikini top and sweeping Henry’s hair off his forehead.

“Perfect,” she says before waving in Alex’s direction. “Okay. Keep going.”

Alex rolls his eyes and lines up another shot.

He doesn't really know what the point of this shoot is. He guesses it’s supposed to be playful…a fun day by the pool where Henry has stolen her heart-shaped sunglasses and perched them on the top of his head while she’s taken his diamond-studded watch and is holding it against her throat like a necklace. But Emily’s bikini is practically see-through, Henry is wearing a pair of swim trunks that hide nothing, and Alex doesn’t understand what they’re trying to sell, aside from their bodies.

So goes the fashion industry.

“Did you get it?” Henry calls out to him without moving a muscle.

Alex blinks through the viewfinder. “What?”

“Did you get the shot?” He asks.

“Oh. Yeah. Probably.”

“Good,” Henry says, “my foot is beginning to cramp.”

He shifts, and Emily hops off his lap and into a robe a PA is holding while Henry stands up, stretches the arch of his foot, and accepts his own robe.

It’s all so fast and formal as if they didn’t just spend the last hour dry-humping each other by a pool at a mansion in Beverly Hills.

Alex isn’t sure if he could pull that off, being that close to either of them and acting like it’s no big deal. Things are easier behind the lens of a camera.

Alex busies himself by pulling the photos up on his laptop. He took nearly two hundred. At least one has to be good enough to go to print.

“May I see?”

Alex nods, and Henry steps into his space, pressing their shoulders together before Alex can make room.

“Christ,” Henry says as he peers at the screen. “Am I really that pale?”

“We can fix it in post?”

Henry hums. “Add it to the list,” he jokes, but it’s not funny at all.

Alex knows that no one is perfect, but he thinks the people he photographs—Henry especially—are about as close to the idea of it as possible. That won’t stop every photo he’s in from being scrutinized and edited to death. They’ll airbrush out the moles that dot across his ribs, the small half-moon scar by his left hip, and the line between his brows. Whatever they do to Henry, it’ll be ten times worse for Emily.

“You’re very good at this,” Henry tells him. It’s not the first time they’ve worked together, but it’s the first time Henry has complimented him.

“Thanks. You make it easy. I mean you guys—you two—you and Emily,” Alex flounders. “You look good.”

“Is it the sunglasses?” Henry asks as he reaches up and touches the thin, pink frames.

“Yes,” Alex answers. “They complete the look. Maybe they’ll let you keep them since they suit you so well.”

“I’ll be sure to ask,” Henry says, the barest hint of a smile on his face.

—

Unsurprisingly, it was June that helped him shape his view of fashion.

When he was younger, he’d point to the avant-garde looks in her magazines and genuinely ask who the hell would ever wear this?

“No one,” She’d tell him as she snatched the magazine away. “Sometimes clothes aren’t meant to be worn, they’re meant to be admired. It’s like how some people go to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa. Other people find their art in fashion magazines.”

He reminds himself of that each time he attends Fashion Week in London, Milan, or Paris. It’s an art exhibit; the models are living sculptures.

In the front row of the Dior show at Bryant Park, Alex thinks Henry makes a stunning canvas.

His hair is dyed dark brown, a near match to the cropped leather jacket he’s wearing, only half zipped, his chest bare. Alex watches his long legs in oversized wool shorts as they walk down the runway, where he stops at the end, poses, and then continues back. He looks down at Alex as he passes, tips his head up, and disappears backstage.

Only after he’s gone does Alex realize he didn’t get a single photo of him.

–

They let me keep the glasses, by the way.

Alex frowns down at his phone as he tries to parse out the Instagram DM that popped up on the screen.

He has two accounts—an official photography account and a smaller, more personal one, followed only by his family and friends. Alex knows he isn’t famous, not yet anyway, but he knows that people can get weirdly parasocial, and he’d rather not have to purge his main account a few years down the line.

This message, from a GEJames97, was sent to his personal account.

????? Alex sends back.

The ones from the shoot, the next message reads.

This is Henry.

Fox.

Alex’s frown deepens. Henry has an Instagram account. He has nearly four million followers and posts photos of his most recent campaigns at least twice a week. Not that Alex is keeping track.

Prove it, Alex says.

A few moments later, a photo of Henry Fox in the pink, heart-shaped glasses pops up.

Pez told me about this account. I hope that’s okay.

Pez…..???????

Percy Okonjo.

Percy Okonjo is an up-and-coming designer who is best friends with Henry. They have the entire fashion world buzzing with speculation that Henry will start working with Percy the second his contract with Dior ends.

Percy also was a guest editor for Vogue and had an undefined thing with June. Alex doesn’t know the details, and he’ll never ask for them, but it was enough that Percy followed Alex’s personal account.

How long are you in New York? Henry asks, and Alex feels his heart rate kick up.

Why do you think I’m still in New York?

Henry sends him a photo Alex posted earlier of a friendly Central Park squirrel eating a small piece of bagel out of his hand.

Until Sunday, Alex tells him. Why?

Doing anything tonight?

Alex blows out a breath.

Not yet.

Alex has only been at the bar for three minutes before Henry shows up. Alex appreciates the promptness, it gives him less time to be nervous.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Henry says anyway, leaning in to press a kiss to Alex’s cheek that leaves Alex feeling untethered. “Traffic in Manhattan is insane.”

“It’s fine,” Alex says, “you’re good. You’re…” Alex trails off because Henry is beautiful in jeans, a t-shirt (that probably cost more than Alex’s hotel room bill), and a Yankees cap pulled low over his face.

“If you want to go someplace else–,” Alex starts.

“Why would I want to go someplace else?” Henry interrupts, raising his hand to wave down the bartender.

“I don’t know. I feel like this place isn’t your usual vibe.”

It’s not a dive by any means, but it’s certainly not the flashy restaurants and clubs Henry usually attends.

“A few months ago, Pez brought me to this place in Chinatown. We followed this woman down a narrow stairwell for what felt like forever, light flickering and water dripping from the ceiling. I would’ve phoned my sister to say goodbye, but I didn’t have cell service. If I can survive that, I can survive this.” He glances around the bar. “I don’t fear for my life at all here.”

“You’re in America,” Alex tells him. “You should kinda always be fearing for your life.”

Henry snorts. “I suppose that’s true, but I am enjoying myself.”

“You just got here.”

Henry shrugs. “Then maybe it’s the company.”

Alex ducks his head. “How long are you in the city for?”

“At least another two weeks,” Henry tells him. “I’ll have a good bit of downtime, but not enough to fly home between shoots. I’m trying to figure out ways to keep myself busy. Do you have any ideas?”

Alex has about a million. He’s been thinking about this since he was twelve years old.

“Have you ever actually been to a Yankees game?” Alex asks, and Henry shakes his head. “They’re in town if you wanna go.”

Henry smiles, big and bright, even in the murky lighting of the bar, and Alex feels like he’s suddenly accomplished everything he could ever want in life.

#rwrb #rwrb fic #FirstPrince #FirstPrince fic #summer prompts

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rekaning · 1 year

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The Housekeeper | Part 1 | Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Additional tags: Human!Mikaelsons, Modern!AU, Housekeeper!Reader, no use of Y/N Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, The Originals x Reader (Platonic) Summary: You've been hired as the new housekeeper for the Mikaelson estate, owned by the elusive Elijah Mikaelson.

His sister had hired you. She had explained during the interview that her brother's previous housekeeper had been getting on in age and was looking to retire soon. There would be two weeks of training to make the transition between housekeeper feel seamless. The master of the home had a certain expectation of the cleanliness of his home, and he would expect the same amount of care to be shown by the new housekeeper.

You weren't worried at all.

You grew up around the janitorial occupation. Your mother had taken you along with her to the home's she'd been hired at on days you didn't have school. She always sat you down and made sure you were occupied while she went about tidying up the million dollar residences. You watched her most of the time. Saw how hard she worked to keep the domicile organized and clean. Whether it be cleaning the toilets, mopping the floors, scrubbing the bathtub. Your mother did it all. And you had been so impressed with her.

While many other children looked up to and aspired to be firefighters or astronauts, you had wanted to do what your mother did.

"One of the greatest things in life you can do, is to serve others." Your mother had once said. After a long and tough day at work, you asked her why she seemed to enjoy this job so much when it took so much out of her, physically. That had been her response. And when her employer arrived, looking at his home impressed and awestruck, his wide smile and generous words had made your mother's face light up like a Christmas tree.

"That feeling you get," she explained, "when a person thanks you from the bottom of their heart, when you can see the gratitude in their eyes; you can feel your chest swell with warmth at their words. It's one of the best feelings in the world."

You hadn't felt that before. You wanted to know what it felt like. So, one day in school, you made an effort to offer your services to clean up the classroom for your 2nd grade teacher, Miss Dobson.

After the class had been dismissed for recess, you walked over to the supply cabinet and grabbed a cleaning spray you had seen your teacher use for cleaning smudges, and a small hand towel, and got to work on wiping down all the desks of your classmates. Miss Dobson, having occupied herself with wiping the chalkboard clean looked over at you, diligently cleaning the desks.

Her look of surprise soon morphed into one of unabashed thankfulness. "That is very thoughtful of you! Thank you so much, my little helper!"

Safe to say, your mother had been right. The feeling you got was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

Since that moment, you'd vowed to follow in your mother's footsteps. Having observed her all your life, you went into the housecleaning business once you turned 18.

And it's how you had ended up working for one of the heirs of the Mikaelson conglomerate. Namely, the 2nd eldest son, Elijah Mikaelson.

The Mikaelsons were a world-renowned name, made famous by the various industries each sibling was tied to. The oldest of the siblings and 1st daughter, Freya, worked closely with the 2nd youngest brother, Kol; the two had co-founded an archeological enterprise that specialized in finding and preserving ancient texts and artifacts, usually donating items to museums the world over.

The oldest son, Finn, was a deeply loved humanitarian and patron for education. He traveled the world, working with out-reach programs to feed famine-stricken countries and bring medicine to villages that faced medical crisis. He also worked closely with his siblings Freya and Kol to facilitate extracurricular programs for children to learn more about history, giving out funds to schools to create more opportunities to take their classes to museums and other learning facilities.

Nikalus Mikaelson; or as his more well-known alias, Klaus, was a huge advocate for the arts. He owned and ran several galleries in different countries, curated a vast collection of paintings from famous artists of the past, and was quite the accomplished artist himself. He also funded many theaters, most of them opera houses and even owned a very exclusive art supply chain.

Rebekah, the youngest daughter, and the one who had hired you in the first place, was one of the highest paid models of this generation. She also had her own clothing line and marketed a lot of her items online, using her influence to sell her product. Out of all the siblings, Rebekah was the most "accessible", so to speak, her online presence marking her as the most social of the family.

There was also the youngest brother, Henrik, but he was still pursuing his education overseas, although rumor had it that he was very close to his brother Klaus and it was expected that he would most likely venture into the art business with him.

Finally, there was Elijah. The more elusive of the siblings. The 2nd eldest son was well established in the wine industry. He owned several wineries and even some breweries. He even worked together with his sister, Rebekah, and started a clothing brand for tailored suits. It was widely rumored that Elijah was the one running the entire conglomeration of Mikaelson subsidiaries. He was rarely seen out and about in public, keeping himself far from the spotlight, seeming rather content to let his siblings be front and center.

You were no stranger to the more reclusive type, there were plenty of millionaires you had worked for in the past that stayed indoor as often as possible, many of them incredibly uptight about punctuality and routine. You had expected the same of Elijah when you first came to work for him.

Surprisingly enough, he was anything but. You had met him on your first day. He had been the one to open the door, held out his hand, and greeted you cordially. He then escorted you to his retiring housekeeper, Philomena, and left the two of you for some meeting or other.

Over the transition period of learning the in's and out's of the Mikaelson home, you had come to learn a bit more about the family. Most all the children had homes of their own, besides Henrik, who still lived with their mother and father, but many of them would stay over at each other's houses quite often. The siblings whose homes were occupied a majority of the time were Elijah's and Klaus'.

After a few weeks of taking over as housekeeper, you met the siblings one after the other.

The first was Rebekah, though you had already tehnically met, seeing as she was the one to hire you. She had entered the home one morning and asked for Elijah. You had told her that he had stepped out for an early brunch with several investors regarding the opening of another winery. The beautiful blonde model sighed at the news and muttered that it 'couldn't be helped'. She then had you sit on one of the plush couches in the living area as she brought in a rack of gowns and asked you to pick which suited her better.

It had been a bizarre morning for you but you had enjoyed the time you spent with the young woman. You learned that she used these mini-runway sessions as an excuse to visit her siblings. She mostly dropped in on Elijah or Klaus, the two brothers she was closest with, but she did occasionally visit the others.

That day you had seen a sight you would not soon forget. Once Elijah came home and caught sight of his sister, a bright, wide smile spread across his lips, his face lit up instantly, and he looked years younger. You were awestruck.

He was never completely devoid of emotion, but many of the smiles he had shot your way had been cordial and polite. To see his face smooth over and relax the way it had with his little sister, you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight.

You prepared a special meal that day, to celebrate Rebekah's visit. Rebekah's words of praise at the delicious meal had that wonderful feeling spread through you. Your beaming smile at the blonde distracted you from noticing Elijah's own eyes from staring at you with curious wonder.

Klaus had visited a week later after Rebekah's departure. You had helped him lug in his 12 foot canvases to the studio room you cleaned out every other week. Thankfully, you cleaned it a day before the brother's arrival, earning an appreciative nod from the man as he went about setting up his work space. Over the next few days, you catered to the artist, bringing him his meals and any other items he required. When Elijah was present, Klaus would step away from his paintings, and the two would mainly spend their time in the library, either playing chess, reading, or discussing various topics regarding their respective businesses.

The two had such differing personalities that it was amazing to see how they balanced each other. Klaus seemed to act out of impulse. You had heard him yelling every now and again to someone on the phone but Elijah's calm demeanor seemed to counteract his little brother's short fuse.

On the last night of Klaus's visit, the blonde man had retired to his room earlier that day. Seeing it as your opportunity to tidy the studio room a bit, you carefully entered. You went about sweeping and mopping the floors, organizing the brushes and towels he had left scattered around. Once you had finished, you finally took a moment to actually look at the paintings that surrounded the room. It was safe to say that Klaus was far more talented than you originally believed. You stared in wonder at the majestic landscapes depicted on the canvas.

It was in this enraptured trance that Elijah had caught you. The door to the studio hadn't been shut completely, allowing the fumes from the paint to escape. He had just been on his way to his office when he had noticed the light on in the room. He had merely gone to glance inside to make sure his little brother hadn't just forgotten to turn off the light. Then he saw you.

You were staring at the painting Niklaus had finished. Your eyes were shining in amazement, and your mouth agape with awe. And Elijah couldn't help but smile. As his housekeeper, you and he communicated quite often, but there was a distance that couldn't be breached due to your position and because of that, he only ever saw you focused on your duties, polite and respectful responses to his questions and requests. Your professionalism only seemed to drop when you interacted with his siblings. And there was a part of him that was envious of them.

He had left the scene very shortly after watching you for a moment, slightly embarrassed at his blatant ogling. You were none the wiser to his presence that night.

Freya, Kol, and Finn arrived in one fell swoop. You had been surprised, only having expected to meet each Mikaelson one by one. Finn and Freya were warm in their greetings. Kol, while still polite, was the more aloof one of the trio. You had the sense that he was very wary of outsiders. From your observations while they resided in the estate, Kol seemed to thrive on the attention and praise of his siblings. He was an incredibly smart person, intuitive and thinking outside the box for solutions to problems. You noticed that he stuck very closely to his older sister and brother and how he would retaliate verbally more harshly toward Elijah or against Klaus and Rebekah if they were mentioned in some form or another. You soon realized that his aloof persona was really a shield to hide away his own insecurities. He craved validation from his siblings and wanted to feel just as loved as he so fiercely loved them. His combative nature toward Elijah, Rebekah, and Klaus seemed to be more out of jealousy at their bond with one another than actual contempt.

Having realized that, you treated him with more care than the rest. He didn't trust you but kept a close eye on you during his stay with his siblings. He would flirt with you, not because he was interested, it was a tactic for him to get you flustered, wanting you to slip up whatever facade he believed you had going on. But you were not that easily shakeable. You knew he was worried for his family. You'd heard plenty of stories of previous hired help around the home and how some had the audacity to try and steal from the Mikaelsons. Kol was just looking out for Elijah—and by extension the rest of his siblings—in his own way.

It was only when you had shown interest in a particular project that he and Freya had undertaken, did he start to warm up to you. The two had discovered ruins in the outskirts of a small village in El Salvador. Freya had sent an advance team ahead to secure the perimeter and begin initial survey's of the terrain for the main archeological team. Kol and she had been seated in their office, piles of books surrounding them with maps and charts pinned to the myriad of cork boards they had covering the walls of the office.

You had been bringing them a pot of tea, Finn trailing behind you holding a tray of cookies to go along with the prepared drink. As you laid the two trays on the emptiest looking portion of the desk, you caught sight of a map of El Salvador, a red circle encompassing their purported dig site.

"Oh, are you going to be digging near El Boquerón?"

Freya and Kol abruptly paused their discussion and turned their heads to you. Freya saw you eyeing the map and nodded, "Yes, that's correct. You know the place?"

You looked up from the map and sheepishly stepped away, "Uh, I was really interested in ancient civilizations during high school. I read a lot of books talking about various indigenous cultures in Central and South America. I really ended up focusing on Mayan nations and sub cultures that formed in remote locations. I know that there was a section of indigenous people in El Salvador known as the Pipil."

You pointed to the red circle on the page, "This area was devastated by a volcanic eruption in the late 1910's. The lake that was once there completely disappeared and many of the homes of the people there was completely burned or melted away by the lava."

Freya and Finn practically beamed at the information you were providing them. Kol tried hard not to look impressed with your knowledge. The three were quick to bring you into their discussion from that point. Asking if you knew anything about the climate there and the terrain they may face.

Elijah came in later that day to find the four of you huddled around Freya's laptop, an image of an item resembling a ceramic jar, half buried in the dirt. Again, a pang of envy coursed through him at the sight of you chatting away so freely with his brothers and sister.

But a bigger part of him was overjoyed to see how well his family had taken to you. Philomena, while a phenomenal housekeeper, had kept to herself and never connected with him, nor his siblings, on a personal level.

You were something special.

He looked on silently as you continued to point out different portions of the computer image. The moments of jealousy that coursed through him were unexpected but not wholly unwelcome. It told him that there was something he wanted to explore with you—only if you wanted to as well, of course—and that the time for distance was to come to an end.

He wanted to know you more, the same way his siblings had gotten the privilege to over these last few months.

Elijah was eager to learn more about his dear housekeeper.

***

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Author's note: This just kept getting longer and longer until I had to make it into a separate part.

Can you tell I love Original sibling interactions with OC's/reader's?

#elijah mikealson x reader #the originals x reader #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #finn mikaelson #henrik mikaelson #freya mikaelson #Alternate universe #human au

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stevebattle · 3 months

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youtube

Wakamaru communication robot (2003) by Toshiyuki Kita, Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, Tokyo, Japan. "Wakamaru" was so named because the two sensors on its forehead resemble the eyebrows of the Heian Era Yoshitsune Minamoto, whose childhood name was "Ushiwakamaru."

"The design concept of Mr. Toshiyuki Kita, who designed "wakamaru", was to create "a humanoid robot that can approach its user." "wakamaru" is designed in the image of a human being, not merely as a "machine" or a "computer terminal," but rather as an "independent personality." Its familiar facial expressions and body appearance make it feel friendly to everyone from children to elderly people." – "Wakamaru" Design, MHI.

The three stages of Wakamaru are seen in the 6th image, from first concept in 2000, through Toshiyuki Kita's blue sleeved prototype, to its final form in 2003. "The first inkling of "wakamaru" lies in a company project titled "MHI Frontier 21," started in 2000. In order to start a new product/project with a 21st century theme, ideas were canvassed from all employees. Then, one of the proposals summarized by the investigation team, mainly consisting of younger employees was, the "Service Robot Project." ... "wakamaru" was born. A robot that can live with human beings, enriching the quality of life." – Who is "Wakimaru"?, MHI.

"Wakamaru, the multi-function service robot developed by Mitsubishi Heavy Industries close to a decade ago has never seemed to gain much traction or use outside of research labs and universities. While Wakamaru is extremely cute, most observers agreed that it didn’t really address a compelling customer need, especially at its USD$14,000 price point. A tweet earlier today by @rani_chocobreak seems to provide visual confirmation [see 7th image] that Wakamaru may have reached the end of its rope. According to the tweet, there are quite a few Wakamaru robots stored in the garbage collection area at an unnamed Japanese university." – Is Wakamaru Alive and Well, or…?, robots dreams, 2014.

Yet Wakamaru keeps on giving (see video). "Under MHI's "wakamaru gift" initiative, based on the number of handshakes the MHI Group makes monetary donations to support the earthquake and tsunami recovery effort in the Tohoku region. … To date, the number of handshakes with wakamaru [based at the Company's showroom on the second floor of the Shinagawa Head Office] has resulted in donations totaling 2.4 million yen. The money is being put to good use to fund various events supporting Tohoku's recovery, a project to cultivate seedlings for creating green spaces as a disaster-prevention measure, and activities to help nurture the next generation. Many people who have cooperated in this campaign have expressed their joy at being able to help in the Tohoku recovery effort." – "wakamaru gift" Campaign Reaches 8,000 Handshakes!, MHI, 2016.

#cybernetics #humanoid #robot #Mitsubishi #2003 #Youtube

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lol-jackles · 3 months

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You do know that FBBC are still heavily producing and distributing beer, right? Before you start patting yourself on the back that the original brewery/land is being sold, you might want to get clued into the fact that distribution has been expanded to San Antonio and recently to Houston. The company and brand are positioning themselves to expand further. Don't think they will go back to the cute craft brewery, but as you have pointed out, craft breweries are not that profitable. Looks like they are going for a stronger business model.

You go on about the whole YANA thing. I have never understood why a select few in the fandom actually became jealous about a charity? Seems so small minded and petty. Regardless, YANA still exists and continues to do good things.

Yes I know about their distribution, I'm the one who pointed out 5 years ago all those bottling and canning equipment and the end products weren't for the taproom customers but meant for distribution because the Ackles were trying to go big because they want to make actual profit despite originally claiming that they would only sell beer at the brewery (X).

What did you think the $1000 membership package was about? To get SPN fans to regularly go to FBBC to keep it afloat so they can keep making beer on site and then ship off site. Quite a turnaround when Gino cast dispersion toward SPN fans and said there will be no beer named after a "corny tv show" (X)

According to Gino, they plan to resume producing their own beer again once they find a location in Austin.

After they bought these top on the line brewing equipment and are now selling. That sounds like a "stronger business model" to you?

Surely you don't think the Ackles are going to sell off all the brewery equipment only to turn around and buy new equipment for the alleged 2nd location? At best they should just open a small scale taproom and put Gino in there as the glorified bar tender.

Do you know people who had their beer made by somebody else? I have. They have to pay for everything, or make compromises. There is no in between. A specific yeast strain the contractors don't use? Then you're going to have to pay for that, and the labor to keep it going, or do it yourself. Oh wait, they can't because they closed down FBBC.

Breweries don't close because they'll make more money from contract breweries, if that's the case then why open your own brewery in the first place?

Let me break it down using another real life example:

If parents have a couple of kids going to the same college and overlap each other, instead of paying dorm fees or renting an apartment, they would buy a townhouse for their child/ren and rent out rooms to other students, which pays for the mortgage. Then when the last child graduates, they sell the house for a profit.

See the difference between owning a brewery that doubles as a contract brewery (your house) vs paying everything to a contract brewery (college)?

What's going on is there is a saturation of craft breweries. It's like in the late 90s when there was a huge surge in openings of comic shops. Every collector dreamed of running his own place and thought a love for the product was enough to be successful. The market became saturated. A couple years later, the trend reversed and it seemed another shop was closing every other week. The difference in making it or not largely rested on whether the owner had the skill set to run a business. Foresight. Customer relations. General business principles. And of course, the ones who had adequate funding. The market decided who made it and who didn’t.

That's what is going on in the current beer industry. The hobbyists who thought they could be successful because they loved brewing but lacked the skill set to run a business are beginning to fall.

LOL nobody is jealous of YANA, people continue to be amused by it because of how badly it was executed and then failed. If YANA still exist and continues to do good thing, it's only because Jared bailed it out after both Misha and Jensen abandoned the public promise as mentioned here and here.

I remember back in my day a craft beer was “hey there’s a beer that’s $3.50 a bottle instead of $2 and it’s way better!”

Nowadays it’s “this craft beer is sourced with water collected from the Himalayas by free range howler monkeys and filtered through the wings of butterflies. Oh and we can’t bother to be original so it’s an IPA loaded with hops. $8 please”.

#fbbc

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urdreamgirls-dreamgirl · 9 months

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the duffers were heavily inspired by the cia’s secret operations called mkultra which targeted women, people of color, and poor people most heavily and completely destroyed their lives to experiment with torture tactics and “mind control” during the cold war, focusing heavily on experimental drug use and electroshock therapy. el’s mother in the show is a victim of mkultra and el is the product.

what the show fails to acknowledge and what would have been so fucking interesting for them to explore in a show abt GOVERNMENT CONSPIRACY is that mkultra was built on the intense and extensive manipulation of the american capitalist propaganda machine that instilled fear in americans of becoming victims of these very same brainwashing tactics the american government was experimenting with but at the hands of the “big bad scary communists.”

now, in the 21st century with the benefit of hindsight, we know that the american people were being manipulated and lied to by their own government abt the ��dangers” of communism in an effort to manufacture consent for wars in vietnam, south america, afghanistan, etc. that allowed the us and us-backed military regimes to torture and execute millions of people associated with trade unions and leftist organizations. we killed che guevara, salvador allende, attempted assassinations on fidel castro, and facilitated the murders of millions of regular people to maintain the lie that communism is evil and a direct threat to the american people.

instead of exploring these themes they laid the groundwork for in season 1, the duffers succumbed to the pressure of the hollywood propaganda machine and the promise of continued funding and guaranteed marketing and viewership by creating characters like dr. sam owens in season 2 that allowed their audience to begin sympathizing with the us government and framing brenner as simply a “bad apple” within a system where people were just trying their best. brenner is evil and he’s a villain, but he’s no longer a representative of the us government but rather an extremist leading a covert cell of other extremists within the bureaucracy.

in doing this, the show allowed for the introduction in season three of the big bad communist boogey man in the form of the russian government/military and thus allowed stranger things to enter into a series of media products that, though seemingly unrelated & from different studios, nonetheless all work together to manufacture consent in the present-day for us wars abroad that claim to be protecting us from the perceived threat of “brainwashing,” “indoctrination,” and, in some instances, communism/threats to the capitalist machine (think specifically marvel and star wars). “the evil communists are doing this evil thing so we had no choice but to also do this evil thing” becomes the thesis of the show—the ends will eventually justify the means.

except that now it doesn’t. because to remain a part of the hollywood propaganda industry, the duffers have to sacrifice the themes they first established at the beginning of their show. they have to abandon any characters that offer a deviation from these new themes they’ve introduced. and it’s becoming apparent that the duffers lack the talent and the ability to execute complex storylines that go beyond what was introduced in the first season—perhaps they have the ability to conceive, but they lack the ability to follow through and it’s the very nature of the capitalist structure of the white male artistic genius that has now trapped them in this position—their inability to let go and let others take over the creative execution of their product will be their downfall as their series comes to a close.

#i’m not sure if this really makes a lot of sense or if what i’m trying to say is clear at all #but this is something i’ve been thinking abt since season 3 #i originally stopped watching the show halfway through season 3 because it was so clearly propaganda #and i couldn’t handle it lol #i didnt watch season 3 all the way through until i watched season 4 vol 2 for the first time #and then i did a rewatch and was hyperfixated on steve harrington so i was able to make it through that time #anyways #stranger things #stranger things meta

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kp777 · 1 month

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By Julia Conley

Common Dreams

Aug. 16, 2024

Proposals to lower housing, childcare, and healthcare costs for millions of families are "a welcome step in the right direction," said one advocate.

After announcing earlier this week that U.S. Vice President Kamala Harris plans to take on corporate price gouging with the first-ever federal ban in the food and grocery industries, the Democratic presidential nominee's campaign on Friday unveiled details about Harris' broader economic agenda, making clear to advocates that she is focused on lowering numerous costs facing working households.

Along with a four-year plan to boost housing construction, provide financial help to first-time homebuyers, and rein in predatory corporate landlords, Harris announced plans to lower medical costs and provide financial assistance to new parents and families raising young children.

The proposals, which Harris is expected to officially announce at a campaign event in Raleigh, North Carolina on Friday, send the message that "the days of 'what's good for free enterprise is good for America' are over," Felicia Wong, president of the progressive think tank Roosevelt Forward, toldThe Washington Post.

"Harris has made a set of policy choices over the last several weeks that make it clear that the Democratic Party is committed to a pro-working, family agenda," Wong said.

Within Harris' plan to lower healthcare costs, the vice president will include proposals to expand Medicare's cap on prescription drug costs at $2,000 annually to all Americans and to place a limit of $35 per month on insulin. Both policies are provisions of the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA) and currently apply only to Medicare recipients. As the Postreported, allowing all Americans to benefit from the price limits "could face resistance from the pharmaceutical industry and Republicans," who have fought to block Medicare drug price negotiations that were also included in the IRA.

Harris said she would work to expedite those negotiations, the first round of which yielded lower costs for 10 widely used medications that were announced by the Biden administration on Thursday.

"Policies that lift up families will always be popular with voters. Working people want to see action from our federal government to address sky-high costs."

The vice president would also work closely with states to cancel medical debt for millions of people "and to help them avoid accumulating such debt in the future, because no one should go bankrupt just because they had the misfortune of becoming sick or hurt," said the Harris campaign. "This plan builds on Vice President Harris' leadership in removing medical debt from nearly all Americans' credit reports and in helping secure American Rescue Plan funds to cancel $7 billion of medical debt for up to 3 million Americans."

The final plank of the economic plan announced on Friday was focused on "cutting taxes for the middle class," the campaign said, with the vice president pledging to restore and expand child tax credits. Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump's campaign has been focusing on the issue in recent weeks as vice presidential candidate Sen. JD Vance (R-Ohio) has come under fire for his criticism of people who don't have children and for his absence from a Senate vote on expanding the existing child tax credit, which nearly the entire GOP Senate caucus voted against.

The Harris campaign said the vice president would restore the expanded child tax credit that provided a credit of up to $3,600 per child for middle- and lower-income families; the program was passed as part of the American Rescue Plan in 2021, but expired at the end of that year due to opposition from the Republican Party and conservative Sen. Joe Manchin (I-W.Va.), then a Democrat.

Harris would also push for a further "historic expansion of the child tax credit: providing up to $6,000 in total tax relief for middle-income and low-income families for the first year of their child's life when a family's expenses are highest—with cribs, diapers, car seats, and more—and many parents are still forced to forgo income as they take time off from their job."

Diane Yentel, president and CEO of the National Low Income Housing Coalition, said the proposal would also work hand-in-hand with Harris' housing plan to "positively impact families' ability to pay rent."

Vance earlier this week called for boosting the child tax credit—currently $2,000 per year—to $5,000, but Sen. Ron Wyden (D-Ore.), who proposed a package last month that would have raised the cap on the credit for low-income families, said Vance's failure to vote on the legislation exposed him as "a phony."

"If JD Vance sincerely gave a whit about working families in America, he would have shown up in the Senate a week and a half ago and voted for my proposal to expand the child tax credit and help 16 million low income kids get ahead," said Wyden. "He didn’t even care enough to use his platform to call on his Senate Republican colleagues to support it."

Maurice Mitchell, national director of the Working Families Party, said that with plans to extend tax cuts that disproportionately benefited corporations and the wealthy, "Trump and Vance are going to look out for bosses and billionaires, while Harris and [Democratic vice presidential candidate Tim] Walz are showing working people that they have their backs."

"Policies that lift up families will always be popular with voters. Working people want to see action from our federal government to address sky-high costs," said Mitchell. "By committing to take on greedflation, lower prescription drug costs, and make housing more affordable, Kamala Harris is listening to the voters she needs to turn out in November."

A Data for Progress poll late last month showed that 75% of Americans support slashing prescription drug prices, 79% support making corporations pay their fair share in taxes, and 58% support restoring the expanded child tax credit.

Joseph Geevarghese, executive director of Our Revolution, called Harris' economic agenda "a welcome step in the right direction, particularly with its focus on tackling corporate price gouging, reining in predatory corporate landlords, reducing prescription drug prices, and providing real relief to working families burdened by medical debt."

"However, to truly address the root causes of economic inequality, we must push for comprehensive reforms that dismantle the structural issues enabling corporations to exploit consumers and workers," said Geevarghese. "The Harris-Walz plan's proposals are critical first steps, but the progressive movement will be watching closely to ensure these policies are not only enacted but rigorously enforced to deliver the meaningful change that Americans desperately need."

#kamala harris #tim walz #j.d. vance #2024 presidential race #child tax credit #greedflation #affordable housing #medical costs

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somberjoon · 7 months

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METANOIA [4]

✩ pairing: wolf hybrid nj x cheetah hybrid reader (f) - eventual ot7 x reader

✩ genre: soul-searching , romance🔞 , found-family , healing , angst , happy ending

✩ word count: 6.3k

✩ chapter warnings: uncertainty in behavior and emotions , anxiety and crying , discussions of inadequacy and feelings

✩ summary: She doesn't know. There is so much about her and her cheetah that she hasn't had the privilege to understand. Unknown backgrounds and unknown emotions clash with feelings of want- hopes of being herself unapologetically. Namjoon seems to be someone that can help her- but can the rest of his pack truly be what she has wanted and needed?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 , ch.3 , ch.4 , ch.5

“Joonie! I’m so happy to finally catch you while I’m in the office. How are you?”

Mila was always a rock in Namjoon’s life- one he didn’t know he’d need or find. When Mila found him, he was just another hybrid that needed help when the system was against him in multiple ways. Because he was too old to be “supported” by the shelter he was in, his choices were either to be kicked out with no resources or to end up with a mysterious fate because of the shelter’s shady practices. Now he knows what they do- trafficking, the selling of specific hybrids to different illegal industries, illegal euthanization- but back then, he was going to choose that route blindly, just so he wasn’t living on the streets.

Mila found him when she was making her rounds at the shelters, using the organization’s funds to pay the little fees the ‘of-age’ hybrids were under. She helped him personally, as her position wasn’t what it is now- placing him in a temporary home, visiting him personally for readjustment with humans, and helping him find a job that was hybrid friendly. She’s someone that’s dear to him, as he is to her.

“I’m doing great, how are you?”

“Eh, the new position is a lot more work, but I have more say in where our money goes so- I can’t be too mad.” She eyes the disengaged cheetah that seems to be lurking right outside her office. “Is this-? Taehyung?”

Mila never really had the time to meet Namjoon’s pack, and the rest of his pack never had the time or ability to come into the organization while she was in office- Taehyung and Mila have never met each other but know of each other. Namjoon wishes it didn’t have to be a random check-in that got her to meet his family but this is what it has come to.

“This is. Taehyung.” He turns and waves the nervous cheetah in, giving his waist a squeeze to keep him close and less anxious.

Mila’s smile is enough to have Namjoon relaxing at the first meeting, but Taehyung isn’t one for first impressions- he values time and familiarity.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’m Mila.” She stretches out her arm to invite the cheetah in for a handshake. Taehyung doesn’t shy away from formal greetings so he gives in immediately.

“Nice to meet you too.” Mila brightens at the response, letting his hand go to clasp both of hers together in front of her.

“I’m gonna be honest, I think I know why you’re here but, I’d love to hear what you have to say.” Mila looks up at the two from her office chair.

“It’s about the new case-”

“You can use her name here.”

“Y/N- I’m the only known hybrid that’s been in contact with her, and she definitely hasn’t met another like her. Taehyung also hasn’t met someone like him because of their rarity. I thought this would be a great opportunity for the two, but I didn’t share any information or specifics as I knew he’d need to be with the organization to help personally. I talked to them both and they both are up to having a time to meet up- is there a way we can make that possible?”

“Honestly, I think it would be great to see Y/N making these connections and having these relationships naturally. Through you and through Taehyung when he meets her- I think she would benefit greatly from creating these connections herself by her choice- without the help from the organization. I don’t mind them meeting, I don’t need him to be an official volunteer. If she consented to the meeting, then information can be shared between you and Taehyung- of course the most basic information out of decency, but you get it.”

“Ah I guess I didn’t think about it that way. Nothing like this has come up before.” Namjoon looks over at Taehyung to gauge his reaction, reading a calmed expression that Namjoon knows is relief.

“No worries, it truly depends on the circumstance. But, I trust you and I trust your judgment. And I really like the idea.” Mila’s praise makes him blush a little, tail happily wagging at her confession.

“Thank you, I’ll make sure to make notes.”

“Let her know that the meeting can be out of volunteer hours if you both would like that as well. Notes aren’t a necessity all the time, especially if you guys are creating relationships outside of just a ‘volunteer’ stand-point.”

“Oh- uh, I’ll definitely talk to her about it.”

“Perfect. Is that all you need from me then?”

“Professionally? Yes. Personally, I’d love for you to meet my pack members sometime, even if it’s just me and one other or a couple at a time whenever we can make it work. I’ve been wanting to but these last couple years-”

“I understand, Namjoon, don’t worry. I understand pack dynamics and the adjustment period for the new members. Don’t worry at all. If anything I’d love to give you a paid position here- and then maybe we’d be able to figure something out sooner.”

Mila has been trying to push a paid position into Namjoon’s lap for almost a year now, but working offsite for a hybrid shelter feels more important at the moment. The shelter is still not up to par in his opinion, and the hybrids under his care know him personally. He couldn’t leave them with someone random, that’s the worst thing someone could do to them- connect, then leave them with little to no notice. Once you connect with them, you’re a strong tie to them emotionally. Though he doesn’t see them all the time, he does random check-ins weekly and everything is going okay.

This is only the third shelter he has done monitoring at thanks to the organization helping him find a job in the ‘hybrid facility monitoring’ department of a local law firm. He is satisfied with his job, and he loves to do volunteering in his down time. He doesn’t want to change anything at the moment.

“I’m really sorry, I enjoy how I have everything at the moment. But, I won’t just leave the organization randomly, maybe later on when I need to get out of the house more often I’ll get back to you.” He gets a sweet laugh out of Mila before turning to Taehyung to see he’s antsy being out in an unfamiliar environment for so long when it’s not needed.

“I’ll try to catch you another day to make some plans, but I gotta get home to log in- I’ll see ya’.” He gives Taehyung’s waist a quick squeeze for reassurance.

“Of course, of course. I’ll see you later- and goodluck with everything.” She gives him a familiar smile that he knows is something a little more than a kind farewell. He returns it with a nod before turning to leave.

Y/N

Her restless body wakes her far too early. She stares at her dark ceiling, too many thoughts rolling around in her head.

Having relationships is odd to her, in a way that feels emotionally taxing. She’s to be mindful of how she presents herself, how she talks, how she reacts to their personality. It’s all so much to think about. With Maria she’s used to it, with Richard it’s getting easier, with Namjoon it feels like no work, but someone from Namjoon’s pack that she’s never met before? It’s scary thinking about how wrong it could go.

Namjoon doesn’t even know enough about her to trust her with a pack member. She can’t help but think he’s being a little rash. She hasn’t told him anything. Nothing about how she survived on the streets, about who and why she distrusts so commonly, nothing about how she cowers under the attention of a man. She can’t do this- not without being a little honest with Namjoon.

With her anxieties, Y/N ends up outside sitting in the divot of her favorite tree at the time that Namjoon shows up.

“Ahhh, that’s where the spot is. Very nice.”

She startles at the sudden disruption to her thoughts. Looking down at the comforting Namjoon that always quiets her mind, she mirrors the smile he’s giving her. Wasting no time, she scoots effortlessly to the edge of the divot and jumps down landing on her feet. She pats at her butt and the back of her legs to rid the fabric of any dirt or bark.

“Here, you got leaves in your hair as well.” Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to help her pick a few of the green friends from her hair- always careful of her ears. Her attention is set on him and the attention he gives to her hair- until she spots the bag he’s holding. He clutches the plastic bag that clearly has two small containers of pre-cut watermelon in it.

“Watermelon?” Is all she asks, hoping that he brought it for her again despite not being used to so much being bought for her. She’s okay with being spoiled a little if it’s out of her say- she’s never asked him to bring her the juicy fruit. She steps closer to give him a look she doesn’t clock as anything specific.

(To Namjoon it is absolutely begging).

(Namjoon is a sucker.)

“No hug this time?” He asks her, pulling his arm with the plastic bag back around his back out of her reach. He stretches his other arm out for the hug, fake-hurt eyes looking down at her.

She wants to relish in the feeling of his warmth- a constant heater- but she really would rather have the fruit as quickly as possible. She gives him a quick squeeze not even long enough for Namjoon to put his arm around her. All she can do is smile up at him and wait.

Luckily he gives in, handing her the bag.

“So, what should we do today?” Namjoon asks.

She mentally smacks herself for forgetting everything so easily.

“Actually- can we, maybe, go out today? Just to talk?”

“Definitely. Do you have somewhere specifically you want to go?”

She thinks of all the places she’d be most comfortable at when having this conversation. Surprisingly- all that matters is that Namjoon is at that place with her. That’s where she’ll be most comfortable.

“No, anywhere is fine.”

It’s the same park where she was able to run freely in- the grass tall and breeze light, just as it was that day. He was the first person to ever open her up to the point he did that day as well. He was gentle, sweet. She has no idea how to act around Namjoon, but she wants to think they’re friends. Maybe this isn’t just a volunteer-case relationship. Or maybe this is just how hybrids treat each other and she never knew. With care and mindfulness that shows they’re all the same in some way.

But, no matter how hard she tries- she can’t not think about him. About the way he holds himself, how perfect he is toward her. She didn’t have an ideal type before this, never once did she think that she’d be able to pick a person from a bunch and have these strange feelings. But he’s Namjoon- and she doesn’t want to lose him.

She doesn’t let herself think too hard about it, this conversation will give her all the answers she needs.

With both their windows down, Y/N watches as the park they ran in is slowly passed. She looks back at the large field, thinking of that day and why he didn’t stop to relive it.

“Where are we going?” She turns to him. Never does she watch him as he drives them each time. She can’t put her finger on it just yet- but the sight of him and his muscles that she never pays attention to as he shifts the gear, turns the wheel, and rests his arm on the window makes her mad. Or irritated? Or- something. She just avoids seeing them as much as possible.

“There’s this pretty look-out spot just up this hill, we’ll be able to see the park from there and the city in the horizon. I think you’ll like it.”

The drive isn’t much longer but it’s definitely much more scary than usual. The steep sides of the hill that the road winds up to create is causing her to slink back into her seat so she doesn’t have to look at the drop. Namjoon maneuvers the twists well, but she can’t help but heave out a sigh when they finally reach the spot at the top that he parks into and cuts the ignition.

She forgets about the watermelon in her lap, immediately opening the bag to distract herself with something refreshing. Namjoon’s hand rests on her shoulder with a touch that’s barely even felt.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry I should’ve warned you the drive was a bit much for the first time.” Her anxious nerves loosen up with the comforting touch, popping a piece into her mouth for further distraction.

“It’s fine.” She looks out in the distance she wasn’t able to fully take in. The mid-day bustle of the city is quiet from here- silent and calling for appreciation. She didn’t realize how big it all was. “It’s pretty.”

This is the first city she’s been in, two nearby towns and the surrounding areas were always small and harder to be unnoticeable in. She was in this city the longest after she realized she truly couldn’t take the stares and pitied looks any longer. In the city it’s a lot more common to be on the sidewalks, in alleys, under dried, old bridges. This was a place she could get used to living as she did- at the bottom of the food chain. Alone. It was the easiest way.

“It is. Perfect for the good news I have.” Namjoon gives her a cheeky smile that lightens her mood unknowingly. “You can meet Taehyung whenever you’d like.”

“Taehyung?” She turns to him to show her attention.

“Sorry I never let you know his name. I wasn’t sure how everything would go at the organization- and I didn’t know how to cross that line between us. Personal details and such.” Namjoon gives a little wave of his hands, nervous-looking for the first time.

“But anyways, Taehyung would love to meet you this week, or even this weekend. He doesn’t need to be a volunteer to- I talked to him about it after we left the organization. He’d like to get to know you without any labels anyways. He wants something natural.”

Her cheeks pink at the knowledge of Taehyung’s eager sounding wants when it comes to her. She didn’t think anyone would ever want to meet her. Let alone meeting her out of choice and wanting something more out of it all. This is a special case. Maybe he won’t like the way she acts, or the amount of emotional baggage she carries- maybe she’s not what he imagined-

“Namjoon.” His name forces its way out before she can think more on it.

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure that I should meet him?” Namjoon’s attention snaps to her gaze.

“Of course I’m sure. Are you- do you not want to anymore? It’s okay if you-”

“No. No, I want to. I just-” Her throat closes at the sight of his attention. His scanning eyes are trying to read her. A raw feeling of something bitter and gross fills her mouth. Her past, the things she’s done, the desires she has- she pushed them all down when they found her under that bridge. She promised herself she’d never look back. She’d never tell anyone. She’d never have to be that person again. She has the chance to be someone new. And still these awful things want to be seen.

“Y/N?” Namjoon’s warm hand is placed on her’s that she set on the middle console. Instead of the usual warmth he gives her, the wretched memories make her yank herself from underneath him- sticking both her hands underneath her seated bottom. She pushes down the tears threatening to silently release.

“You don’t know anything about me.” She whispers, worried about what she’ll say otherwise. She’s already turned to look out at the horizon so she doesn’t have to see his reaction to anything.

“What do you mean?”

She swallows thickly at the sound of him. God, this is worse than she’d thought it’d be.

“You know nothing about me, Namjoon. Why would you trust me with him? Why would he want to meet me? Why-” She has to stop as a crack in her voice threatens to cause her wet eyes to spill over. “Why are you so nice to me when you know nothing?” It’s not how she wanted it to go. It’s not as simple as she wanted it to be. An impending feeling already takes hold. She’s doing this too soon.

“Y/N.” Namjoon grabs her attention once again. Her attention is on him but she still doesn’t take her eyes away from the city.

"Y/N." The assured voice draws her in more than she'd like to admit. Her eyes find his again. There's nothing malicious- only concern and interest.

"Can I ask why you are asking these questions? Just so I can understand better."

She tries to find disingenuous hints in his expression. The tightness of his features proves she can do this with him- he's being genuine.

"No one knows anything about me except me. No one has ever shown me respect or care like Maria does, like- like you do. What- Why? Why would you? Why do all of this with nothing in return? Why waste your money and time with someone you have no reason to be around?"

She somehow keeps her composure despite her voice being all over the place.

“I’m trying to forget everything and just let it go but- but it’s obviously not working. And I’m confused as to why suddenly everyone is nice to me. After everything I’ve been through, now it’s like- it’s like nothing happened and everyone, including me, is ignoring it. I’m irritated, and I’m irritated that it’s my fault.”

The tears fall helplessly now, silently and without any grand show of arrival. She can barely see his face through the blurry wetness- she wouldn’t want to see his reaction anyways. She’s embarrassed more than anything.

“Y/N, I’m not here for no reason. I’m here for you.”

Her scoff is an audible, gross thing she can’t stop from coming out.

“You want me to believe that?”

“Yes. Because I told you. Because you said I respect and care about you. Because I have a choice to be here, to spend my time and my money on you- and I choose to be here. With you.” His voice is even and gentle unlike hers- making her feel more wrong, more out of place and rancid next to someone like him.

“Don’t do that.” Namjoon almost pleads.

“Do what?”

“I can tell when you’re thinking too much. Your eyes don’t meet mine and they go out of focus, your ears turn down like mine do when I’m overthinking, and your tail tightens around your waist. I can tell.”

She insecurely wraps her arms around her waist to cover her tail, feeling vulnerable.

“We’re responsive and emotional- hybrids- we need emotional connection and likeness in something and someone. I’m here to be there for you when you need that.”

“I don’t want to be a case that someone has to tend to. I want a friend- I want-”

“What makes you think we’re not friends?” Namjoon cuts in when she can’t think of that specific thing she craves.

“We know nothing about each other.” She mumbles, wiping the wetness from her face.

“And we won’t know everything about each other for a long time. That doesn’t mean we’re not friends- that means we’re learning. It’s only been a couple weeks, Y/N, we aren’t just going to immediately tell each other everything. I know you wouldn’t want to- and I don’t want to just yet.”

“Because you can’t trust me.”

“Because I want us to have something real. Something long-lasting and considerate. I don’t want us to trauma-dump and rely too greatly on each other. Of course no relationship is perfect, but that’s why we’ll learn. That’s why I’m glad we’re having this conversation.”

She composes herself enough with his response, relaxing just the slightest into the passenger seat.

“Do you trust me?” He suddenly asks after not getting a response from a thinking Y/N.

“Yes,” she confesses with a whisper, “that’s why I’m scared. Because I know nothing about anything and I still trust you.”

“I trust you too.”

“No you don’t.”

“What’s the difference? Between your truth and my supposed lie?”

“You’re perfect. You’ve got a family to think about and feelings you haven’t shared with me. You’re a hybrid- I barely am one, how would you trust someone like me?”

She watches as Namjoon’s eyes point out the changes in her comfort based on the slightest of movements. She just about scoffs again at the realization that she has no idea about any tells in hybrids. She knows nothing.

“Our difference in backgrounds doesn’t change the feelings we have, or the responses we have to each other. Your choice to keep your past a secret is the same I have made. I haven’t always had a family and I haven’t always been the Namjoon you know. It doesn’t matter anyways, our past- not when we’re just trying to find people to comfort us and care for us.” Namjoon swivels his head to make sure Y/N is looking into her eyes when he finishes his response.

“To trust blindly is the most vulnerable thing we could do- and that in itself is a lot more important- more meaningful than the pasts we are trying to hide.”

Y/N is speechless to say the least. Teary eyes watch Namjoon as his downturned eyes plead with her to understand. She doesn’t ever want to see him looking at her like this again- the ache in her chest and limbs clenches harder and harder with every passing second.

“So- ask me again.”

“What?”

“Ask me again why I trust you to meet Taehyung.”

At first she’s hesitant, closing her eyes to take a few deep breaths she desperately needs. Her lungs hurt but she breathes until they aren’t as tight.

“Why would you trust me with him?”

“Because I do. That should be enough, but since it’s not- I trust you because you’re a hybrid- because I know you both need this- because I met you and you’ve been nothing but gentle in our time together- because you are worried about who I bring around Taehyung, and that means more than you can imagine- because you’re you, Y/N. Because everything leading up to now has been nothing but pleasant and trusting.”

“Is that enough for you?” He asks with finality that she can feel in her bones. Because it is enough. It’s more than enough. It’s more than she could ever ask for and even-even more. Because she’d trust his judgment of hearself even if it wasn’t true. She’d shape herself into whatever he wanted.

“Yes. It is.” She swallows down a swirl of strange feelings, trying to grasp onto something to say, something to prove herself with. “You believe that I trust you?”

“I want you to trust me, with every piece of truth I can muster, I’d hope you feel that you can lean on me, trust that I’ll be there for you.”

This is turning into something she was nowhere near expecting. He’s putting far more into it than she thought he would. He’s crushing her down into a palm-sized thing for him to have and keep for whatever he’d need or want.

“I’m scared to meet him.” She confesses. “I’m scared that I’ll be nothing he expected, nothing he’d care to meet again. I’m scared that it will mean everything to me but he’ll realize I’m broken and incomplete and he’ll never want anything to do with me.” She takes another deep breath, ready to seal her fate. “I’m scared that his distaste for me would lead to me never seeing you again.”

The silence feels so suffocating, Namjoon just sits, waiting for something she can’t figure out. Until he’s opening his door and walking around to her’s, opening it and waving her out with no words. Blindly, she follows. Keeping her arms around herself to self-soothe.

“Yell it. Yell out how you feel.” He stretches his arms out towards the horizon.

“Why?” She asks, still stuffy-nosed and wet-eyed.

“No matter our age, no matter the emotion that’s overwhelming us, we need to expel the pent up adrenaline that’s eating us alive. Yell it while no one but me can hear. Yell it to get it out of your bones and muscles- let it be between us.”

She looks at him skeptically but turns to the city, taking in the colors, the breeze, the obvious life that thrives there.

“I’m scared.”

“Louder.”

“I’m scared.”

“Louder, put your whole body into it.”

Y/N uncrosses her arms, unwraps her tail, and tries again. Leaning forward, she tries to forget how stupid she looks.

“I’m scared!” She screams with a crack.

“Of what?”

“I’m scared! Of everything!”

The relief is almost instant. A weight releases from her that she didn’t realize was a constant companion. With the relief comes an audible choke that she can’t stop. The loud sob causes her to bend over and catch herself on her knees. Sobs and choked breaths rip from her- all those times she forced herself to be silent in her pain, this is how it repays her. This is how her body finds revenge.

But this time she’s not alone.

Namjoon

The urge to soothe, to comfort is too strong for him to just watch as she breaks down in front of him. This was his idea- even if he knew she needed it, the expulsion of her emotions is more than he can handle to just watch.

He gently pulls her up by the shoulder, letting her decide if she wants the same thing when he turns her toward him. Thankfully, there’s no hesitation in her leaning into him, pressing her wet face into the front of his shoulder, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and torso. He doesn’t have to think about holding onto her, rubbing her back in motions he hopes are soothing for her.

He lets the breeze-filled silence fill their space, waiting until her sobs turn into minimal hiccups and shaky breaths.

“It’s okay to be scared,” he starts with a sure but calm tone, “but you don’t need to be scared about this one thing at least. Taehyung and I were the first of our pack. I know my pack very well, but Taehyung and I have had a lot of time to get to know each other.” He can’t help but let a light laugh out at the remembrance of their past. “I know that this meeting means the world to him- it means more than anything I think. He’s very in touch with his cheetah, and he has no one to share that with. None of us are like him. You could hate him and vow silence towards him and he’d still try over and over again to change your mind. He’s minimalistic and puts his thoughtfulness into actions instead of words. He’s emotional but extremely shy- he’ll want to be around you just to have you near, just to make sure you're real and safe.”

Namjoon tries to think of anything else to reassure her, anything he knows is true and would help to calm her nerves.

“I’m not in touch with my cheetah.” Her voice is more of a hum into his shoulder than anything, making goosebumps prickle underneath his long-sleeve shirt.

“He won’t mind it one bit. Honestly-” He pulls back a little, causing her to pull her face from his body and look up at him. Her puffy eyes and red features make his heart clench, his ears immediately drooping at the sight. “I think he could help you with that more than either of us realize.”

“Are you sure about this?” Taehyung asks for the third time since they were getting ready to leave the house. This time, Namjoon is pulling into the Caddel household’s driveway as Taehyung looks around the front of the house nervously.

“Yes. I was sure this morning, and I’m sure now.”

Taehyung gives him an eye roll that could kill and waits for Namjoon to start the adventure up the front door before he takes action right behind him.

Namjoon was careful to instruct Taehyung on possible triggers for Y/N before they set out for the day. He’s extremely understanding, especially when he can relate to what can cause discomfort. He also made the effort to wear freshly cleaned clothes to limit scents and present his own scent upfront.

Namjoon’s at the door before Taehyung can ask anymore questions, knowing that if he could sit and anxiously wait for hours he would. With two knocks he expects Y/N to answer the door, but this time it’s Maria.

“Hi sweetie,” she gives a smile to Namjoon, herding the boys into the house to take off their shoes and put on guest slides. “You must be Taehyung, very nice to meet you.” She smiles at him but doesn’t make him give a proper greeting to keep it casual.

“Nice to meet you too.” Taehyung responds back as he waits for Namjoon to kick his shoes off. “Thank you for allowing me to visit Y/N.”

“Oh, of course! I’m very glad she has you guys, I want to do more for her but this is really the best way I can do that. So, thank you as well. Speaking of Y/N, she’s in her tree again- got too nervous and has been up there for about an hour now.” Maria explains.

“You’re doing a lot for her, Maria, I know she really appreciates you. And thank you for letting us know.” Namjoon makes sure to let her know.

“Thank you for letting me know, I’ll try my best not to disappoint. You guys can go right out, I’ll have lunch ready in an hour.” She gives them confident smiles before letting them go.

Namjoon leads the way, head circling with the possible outcomes. What if he doesn’t know how Taehyung would react? What if he was wrong and Y/N hates him forever because of it. What if he breaks her trust with the hope he wasn’t even trying to hide. He pushes that down, putting the trust he has in Taehyung to the forefront of his worries. He knows him. He knows how much this means to him.

Y/N perches in her usual spot, looking up instead of out over the fence. Taehyung waits a few steps behind to allow her to come down to him out of choice. Another detail Namjoon thought would be good to include.

“There she is.” Namjoon smiles up at her as she startles again. Her fast growing hair is in a high ponytail today, a common style now that she has the means to take care of it properly. The strands are pulled back carefully to accommodate her ears. The fuzzy, little things search for an out of sight Taehyung once she realizes he’s here. He gives her a minute to figure out what she wants to do. With a nervous look at Namjoon, he gives her an assured nod.

It seems to be all she needs as she moves and hops down with practiced ease. With a look at Taehyung he sees the same nervous expression, giving him a knowing look to show it’s going to be okay as well.

She peaks around the trunk just as she did when meeting Namjoon, but this time she wastes no time showing herself. She side steps to get to Namjoon’s side, accepting a reassuring hand on her back.

“Taehyung, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Taehyung.”

Y/N

She honestly didn’t know what to expect in terms of feelings upon meeting him. There is that anxiety she hates so much, and the impending feeling of doom that she seems to have so much lately- but, there’s something else there.

He’s pretty, just like Namjoon- he looks nothing like Namjoon, but pretty just the same. His hair is lighter than both her’s and Namjoon’s, a wavy style that seems effortlessly perfect. His ears peak out the top of his light brown waves, camouflaging well into the strands. He’s in clothes that seem to match her’s. Plain, comfortable bottoms and a plain t-shirt under a plain zip-up. His tail catches her eye, swaying effortlessly, lifted and cared for with no thought behind it. She looks down at her own to see it still wrapped around her waist like always.

She gives him a nervous glance before unraveling it from herself and letting it fall as it usually does. She isn’t used to keeping it up, her muscles ache after those unplanned times it seems to have a mind for itself and sway around with no direction. Even now, she lets it fall into the grass under her socked feet- but it takes tentative swishes around under the attention of Taehyung.

As she avoids looking at his face to not have to see his reaction to her unsure instincts, she startles at a sound from him. A shocked sound of joy leaves the other cheetah, causing her to look at him and find a toothy grin that stuns her. She looks up at Namjoon who seems to have a very similar expression towards Taehyung.

“Go ahead.” He gives her a light nudge on the back.

It’s not disgust on Taehyung’s face. It’s an expression she can’t place, but at least it’s not disappointment. He’s smiling at her so earnestly, she doesn’t think twice about taking the tentative steps to stand in front of him. Despite his now content smile, she can see his details up close. The wetness in his eyes surprises her.

“Taehyung?” She questions.

“You’re real.” He says, sounding more like he’s convincing himself than stating it to her. “You-” He lifts his hand to roll a curl of her’s between his fingers, looking at her and watching her in awe. She tries her best not to shy away, letting him search for whatever he needs if it means he’s okay with her.

“Hi.” She gives him in the silence, hoping she doesn’t sound awkward. Her smile is content under his attention despite not knowing him. With her greeting she takes in his scent, the warm, fresh scent seems to perfectly fit him.

“Hi.” He responds back, his voice less stable than before.

Her overthinking in how he feels blocks her instincts. An underlying feeling of want and yearn creeps their way into her muscles. Her own cheetah wants something she can’t quite figure out. Just like in times of pain, her cheetah is responding in a time of want. It’s a new warmth, a new feeling of being heard and understood.

He’s being vulnerable for her, he’s emotional in front of a stranger when Namjoon said he was usually shy. He’s being sincere- she can try to find a way to do the same.

Instead of blocking that scary feeling of unknown want, she tries to let it slip out, she tries to show him some part of her he can see as meaningful. To show them both that she’s trying.

Taehyung

Despite Namjoon telling him that Y/N wasn’t familiar with her cheetah, he can feel it. He can feel a connection of familiarity that he’s yearned so long for. Her pretty ears and tail are just like his. Their patterns and colors so similar. And up close, she’s perfect. She’s nothing he could have imagined. She’s far better than anything he could’ve honestly dreamed up.

She looks up at him with curiosity that melts him. He doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable but he needed to touch something, feel her in some way and make sure she was really in front of him.

“Hi.” She says, her voice uncertain but light. Her uncertainty in it all makes his cheetah want to soothe, his heart hurting at whatever she could be going through.

“Hi.” He responds, no knowing exactly what she needs in the moment.

He lets Y/N watch him, search him for whatever she may need. Her ears and tail tell him she’s thinking, looking for what to do and how to act around him. He debates cutting in and trying to be vocal about his intentions, but it seems Y/N decides first.

With Taehyung’s hand just out of reach of her face, Y/N leans towards him. Her cheek meets his fingers still holding her hair. He drops the strand, letting her move as she pleases. Her soft skin rubs against his fingers- he opens his hand to welcome her more. She takes the offer, fully resting her cheek in his palm, her eyes starting to water.

Taehyung does his best to take it slow, rubbing his thumb into the top of her cheek with slow strokes. Once she’s okay with that motion, she turns her face into his palm, being able to smell him and now her scent mixed with his.

“Taehyung.” She whispers, sounding like she’s in pain from whatever she’s thinking.

“Y/N.”

#bts au #bts fic #namjoon au #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid fic #bts hybrid x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #namjoon x reader

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fans4wga · 11 months

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“This Was A Negotiation For The Future”: Fran Drescher & Duncan Crabtree-Ireland On SAG-AFTRA Deal, AI & Informed Consent + Importance Of CEOs

"'We know that generations from now they’ll be talking about this seminal contract and reaping the benefits of it in the way that we have been for the last 65 years with a contract that was negotiated when Ronald Reagan was in my position,' says SAG-AFTRA president Fran Drescher of the new contract the actors guild made with the studios on Wednesday after 118 days on strike.

Worth more than $1 billion over the next three years, the tentative agreement has an “extraordinary scope” and is full of “unprecedented provisions,” according to SAG-AFTRA. While the fine print won’t be made public until the 160,000-strong guild’s board votes on it Friday, we know the new deal includes increases in minimum rates, a streaming participation bonus, new health and pension caps, diversity guardrails, and hard fought for AI protection provisions.

The recently overwhelmingly reelected Drescher and chief negotiator Duncan Crabtree-Ireland were at the heart of the strike and the talks. “This strike was about people who are trying to make a middle class living, and I think when the whole deal is put out in the public and people have all the different pieces of it, they will see that there is an overall commitment to improving the economic viability of a career as an actor in this business,” Crabtree-Ireland notes.

Frequently attacked and underestimated by the AMPTP and others, both the union president and national director were out on the picket lines day after day as well as in negotiations with the CEOs Gang of Four of Netflix’s Ted Sarandos, Disney’s Bob Iger, NBCUniversal’s Donna Langley and Warner Bros Discovery’s David Zaslav. Back at the bargaining table for the second set of renewed talks starting on October 24, a month after the WGA reached their own tentative agreement with the studios, the duo, SAG-AFTRA’s chief contracts officer Ray Rodriguez and other members of the negotiating committee unanimously approved the deal Wednesday evening. That vote came as the studios had set a 5 pm PT deadline that could have seen everything go back to square one.

Today, Drescher and Crabtree-Ireland spoke with me about getting to that deal, power of the picket lines, role of the Gang of Four and the importance of the new contract for the entire industry. The duo also revealed some of the AI specifics in the new contract and the battles to come.

DEADLINE: What was the turning point that brought this deal together?

FRAN DRESCHER: We got the protections we needed in AI. We got the funds that we needed for the new revenue stream. That was the two biggest outstanding pieces.

The money was in place earlier, it was the protections that we really were holding out for. With AI, things move very fast, and three months is equivalent to a year in how things can change. So, if we didn’t close that up now then you’ll be so far behind you’ll never be able to catch up. It was really important to us, that we got the protections we felt that we absolutely needed to sustain this contract until the next one. I mean, there’s still things that we’re already working on to get for the next contract, but there are so many milestones in this one.

DUNCAN CRABTREE-IRELAND: I would say it’s been a roller coaster since we got back in the room late last month.

DEADLINE: No doubt.

CRABTREE-IRELAND: Yes, and AI has proved to be one of the most challenging topics in this negotiation from the very beginning all the way to the very end. It was on the table Day 1 and it was on the table on Day 118 of the strike.

DEADLINE: So, how did you seal that deal, so to speak?

CRABTREE-IRELAND: It’s clear that the direct engagement of CEOs was essential to reaching the deal. I think that it is also clear that the companies had to push beyond their initial comfort zone to find a path that could actually give us enough assurances that our members could say yes, we’re going to walk forward into this coming couple of years with a feeling that there is sufficient protection against any kind of abuse from the way AI is being implemented.

For me, I think the key moments really had to do with the kind of dialogue that we had directly with the CEOs, and with Carol, and our committee which has just been so strong and so united. That really gave us the power we needed. Outside the room, the other thing I would just add is having the chance to be out on picket lines in our rallies with our members. That was incredibly not only energizing for me and for the committee but also really helped us make sure we were hearing from all facets of our membership.

DEADLINE: How so?

CRABTREE-IRELAND: Because the picket lines are a very democratizing unifying place and members from all walks of life and all aspects of people’s careers, and all types of specialties are all there.

DEADLINE: In this final round of talks, one of the things that came up a lot from the studio side, but also on the picket lines, was the notion that everyone was running out of time. Running out of time to get a TV season and summer slate off the ground. Running out of time to get people back to work. As we reported yesterday, the AMPTP even gave you guys a 5 pm PT deadline Wednesday or they were going to take their ball home. How real was all that to you?

CRABTREE-IRELAND: You know, I took it as an expression of how concerned they were about this timing and that they were really trying to send us a message of the realities of their production environment – that meant that the timing was real for them. I never take a deadline like that as a given because we’re we live in a world of human beings and our committee was working as quickly as we could. So, I personally thought we were going to be ready before that anyway and we were – but, that deadline was what partially drove us. The desire to make sure that that we could make a deal as quickly as possible because of the ongoing harm that that being strike causes to workers. That’s really what drove us.

The other thing, Dominic, that I will say made it possible was the studios coming through with the final pieces in AI. We’ve made it clear to them from the very beginning and it was true all the way along: AI was existential for our members. And if we didn’t have the right protections, we weren’t going to be able to make a deal. So, I think they ultimately believed that, understood that and they did what they had to do to give us those assurances.

Also, people need know that just strike was not about celebrities per se, this strike was about working actors. This strike was about people who are trying to make a middle class living, and I think when the whole deal is put out in the public and people have all the different pieces of it, they will see that there is a overall commitment to improving the economic viability of a career as an actor in this business. And that’s really good for all of us.

DEADLINE: Fran, did you worry with the deadlines the studios were trying to impose, that this could go off the rails?

DRESCHER: Well, I didn’t know what you mean by go off the rails because it was either going to protract the strike or they were going to appreciate the gravity of certain points that really were deal breakers. About AI, I told them that to their faces: This is going to be a deal breaker, I could tell you right now.

DEADLINE: Clearly, they got the message at some point…

DRESCHER: In a negotiation, you don’t ever get everything, that’s understood. But when the opposition in a really appreciates that we are prepared to go longer, that we’re already on strike. We were prepared to go the distance on this. They heard us, so thank God.

DEADLINE: You’ve indicated you’re already thinking about down the line, the next contract. From what I know about this contract, while it is a three-year contract, this seems multigenerational and it plants pillars that are going to be a strong part of a vastly changing industry. Do you see it like that? DRESCHER: Without question? I mean, we said that to ourselves last night when we passed this, without objection, which in itself is a historic triumph. We know that generations from now they’ll be talking about this seminal contract and reaping the benefits of it in the way that we have been for the last 65 years with a contract that was negotiated when Ronald Reagan was in my position.

DEADLINE:I know that we’re going to get more details tomorrow on AI when the board votes, but Duncan can you give us a sense now of what these protections are?

CRABTREE-IRELAND: I will say, I think our proposals are more specific than the ones that you’ve seen in other contracts because our members are experiencing the use of AI right now. This is not something that’s coming down the road. This is something that’s currently happening.

So, we do have very specific protections around the creation and use of digital replicas, including informed consent for any creation and use as well as compensation structures for how people should get paid both for the creation and use of digital replicas.

DEADLINE: How will that work?

CRABTREE-IRELAND: One way is to protect against the use of generative AI to create what we would call synthetic fakes, which are synthetic assets that are created out of potentially multiple actors inputs. Where there’s any kind of recognizable elements of that there will be protection and a right of consent, as well as a right for the union to be notified when they’re created and a right to bargain for compensation.

Really, the theme around all of this Dominic is informed consent and fair compensation

Also, I do want to just say because I know people have wondered this whole idea about zombie actors. There are now the consent requirements that apply if an actor is deceased. It wasn’t always that way during this negotiation, but where we’ve ended up is the producers will have to seek consent from the heirs or representatives of the estate of a deceased performer to get concerned for ad use of their image like this voice or performance and the creation of a digital replica, unless that consent was explicitly granted informed consent prior to the person’s death. Just with those examples, I think you can see it’s a very robust set of protections. Protections that address all of the areas of concern that we’ve raised in connection with how actors should be treated as the industry moves forward. Because, let’s be honest, nobody’s immune from evolution, and that includes the studios

DRESCHER: Also, part of the caveat of this negotiation is that the guild and the studios have agreed together to meet semi-annually so that we can always stay on the pulse of where technology is going. Because in many ways, we’re going to find ourselves on the same side fighting in Washington for a kind of legislation that protects all of us against piracy, and more.

DEADLINE: To that, on more than one occasion you guts put out stuff publicly about bullying techniques that AMPTP loves to use and has used over the years, and more How did that affect the tone in the room and or the tone in the virtual room sometimes? CRABTREE-IRELAND: You know, it wasn’t really acknowledged directly in the room. You know, as an openly gay man, I’ve been bullied plenty in my life including as a kid, and what I’ve always found is when you call it out, that takes away some of its power.

DEADLINE: Amen.

CRABTREE-IRELAND: So, to me, if I feel like those kinds of tactics are being used, my first reaction is to just acknowledge it publicly, openly and take away the power that it has as a result. That was our approach. I will also say, I’m not sure everything is as tightly choreographed on the studio side as people would think. There are multiple companies and there are different opinions, even within their group about tactics and strategy and things like that. Even so, in the end, I think it’s important to just really be open and be direct about it. And when we were in our meetings with the CEOs, you know, I didn’t perceive that as was happening there. And nor was that topic specifically ever discussed during those meetings. DEADLINE: One thing that was discussed, as Deadline exclusively reported at the time, was Netflix’s Ted Sarandos saying to guild leaders last weekend, once the studios had presented their so-called last, best and final offer: We didn’t just come towards you. We came all the way to you. What’s was your take on that, was it true? CRABTREE-IRELAND: Well, I mean, I don’t think that’s correct. I think it’s a good rhetorical point and Ted is a very powerful orator and persuader, obviously, but you know, this has been a negotiation.

We started out with an admittedly aggressive side of asks in our initial proposals, and we knew we weren’t going to get everything that we were trying to achieve it just as they knew they weren’t going to get everything that they were trying to achieve. In fact, where this deal has landed. I think it’s very favorable. It’s very successful. For us, it’s groundbreaking, but it’s not everything that was in our initial proposal package, and there are battles that will have to be fought another day.

So, did they come all the way to us? No. Did they come far enough to us to make a deal that provides our members the protections that we that we really need and provides them with a level of respect to this agreement that members can be excited about? Yes, and I do appreciate them ultimately getting there, although I wish it would have happened a lot sooner.

DEADLINE: Of course, but also there was a lot of bitterness, a lot of agendas in this strike, in the negotiations and in the getting there. What do you think, if anything the studios and the AMPTP leadership learned from this half year of strikes?

CRABTREE-IRELAND: One thing I do wish, and I hope that this will take hold in the industry and future cycles of negotiation, which is if there are strikes, it’s not a good strategy to just let everyone sit there. It’s not going to wear us down. It’s just going to cause more harm to the industry and it’s unnecessary. So, hopefully in the future, there won’t be these long periods of time, like the 100 days before the studios went back in with the Writers Guild to restart talks. There shouldn’t be those kinds of time periods of no talking, because the only way to solve these problems is through discussions and negotiations

DRESCHER: As we said all along: One day longer, one day stronger.

DEADLINE: Fran, there were a lot of attacks on you, on your leadership, on your abilities – some of which you have responded to. Some of the attacks were open, many were whispering campaigns. Now, with this contract, do you feel vindicated and what would you say to those who took potshots at you?

DRESCHER: The people that know me were not surprised that I was going to rise to the occasion. Yet, I think that sadly, women in leadership positions often are faced with the lowest hanging fruit ploy, which is to find any way to discredit them. Duncan’s actions in the negotiating room were a non-issue, never discussed. For me, the pendulum swung from being you know, overly aggressive to frivolous to everything in between. But I will tell you, I merely saw that all of that as an opportunity to create a womaqn and girls movement that I can lead and be exactly me, which is what I did.

DEADLINE: It seems there was a lot of underestimating and undermining here…

CRABTREE-IRELAND: I agree. I think they didn’t think they were going to go on strike in the first place.

DRESCHER: I don’t think so either.

CRABTREE-IRELAND: This entire process has been one of the studios opening their eyes to the reality of SAG-AFTRA, its membership and its willingness to do what it takes to make sure that they’re protected.

We came in with a strike authorization vote that was unprecedented. We then tried really hard to get a negotiated deal without going on strike, including the extension, which was also unprecedented. We did that and then I really think that they believed at the end of that we were stop.

DEADLINE: But you didn’t, why?

CRABTREE-IRELAND: Because the thing was, it wasn’t good enough for our members at that point. So, we couldn’t do that and so we went on strike with the WGA. Even then, I believe that their strategy was to wear us down, but our members didn’t get worn down. Yes, everyone’s hurt the whole industry, all the workers hurt and I don’t want anyone to ever think we didn’t know that and feel that. I did, all of us did. But what we’re fighting for something that was wasn’t just a regular three-year marketing cycle, we always knew that.

DEADLINE: How did that manifest itself?

CRABTREE-IRELAND: This was a negotiation for the future. For the future of our members and our industry. And members stayed strong at our picket lines. I’d say the last few days have been as strong as ever. Our members did not get weakened. They did not get discouraged. They knew that we were fighting a battle we were going win. Ultimately the studios and the streamers had to recognize. Also, the fact that the public and the rest of the industry really did hear us when we talked about we were fighting for was great. Between us and the Writers Guild, I think the public support was extraordinary, and I think the studios had to acknowledge that as well. So, there was a lot of elements that came together to really help us get here.

DRESCHER: One thing I made sure of too was that every community and every major concern for this contract was well represented. Represented by not only our amazing staff and chief negotiator, but experts. Our experts were with us every step of the way, in all fields, and that’s why we got so many, I believe, groundbreaking new things language in the contract that never existed before. This time called for that. I’m just grateful that the AMPTP recognized where we were coming from heard us and met the moment.

CRABTREE-IRELAND: Yes, there was a lot of progress made, and the last very last thing was negotiation on the toughest issues. I guess that’s to be expected, because all of the underbrush had been cleared and all of the points that could be addressed most easily had been addressed. In the end, we did things to send signals that we were not holding on to anything that we didn’t really need. To let the AMPTP know, and see, at the end this wasn’t a case of negotiating just for everything we wanted. It was for things that our members really needed, that were really important. As the studios really started understanding that, they realized that if they wanted to have an agreement in the timeframe that they were looking for, that they would have to do something to address those needs. And they ultimately did. So, a day after we agreed on a deal, I appreciate that very much, because that is what helped us get this across the line in the end.

#long post #sag-aftra strike #sag strike #actors strike #fran drescher #duncan crabtree-ireland #hollywood strikes #fans4wga

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thefallennightmare · 2 years

Text

Moment of Weakness-thirteen

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Notes: tbh, I'm still trying to figure out a mob storyline, like how with my last story Bucky was creating serum. But now I'm at a loss as to what it could be for this one. feel free to send me some ideas!

Tags(open): @splendidreads @sebsgirl71479 @mdpplgtz03 @pattiemac1 @unaxv @elizacusi-blog @alana4610 @broadwaybabe18 @themayzittcha @playboystark @raajali3 @ozwriterchick @ragamuffin285 @screamingdying @themorningsunshine @kenziekugler22 @calwitch @sebastianstansqueen @stanaddict @stucky-simp03 @sleyeveryday @loustan90 @lyra-black13 @valsworldofcreativity @cjand10 @tesseract69 @batprincess1013 @subwaysurf45 @arsonfrogger @winters1917 @yoruse @5moremin @lipstickandtanqueray @mandijo17 @joannaromanoff @justsebstan

“Bucky, stop it,” I giggled, feeling his presence behind me.

He hummed while burying his face deeper into my neck, fingers softly tickling my sides.

“You smell so good, doll.”

I sighed while setting down the papers I was trying to fax and leaned my head back against his shoulder while looking up at him.

“It’s called a shower. Soap, shampoo.”

Bucky smirked. “Naked, I know the drill.”

I smacked his chest while removing myself from his grasp and went back to my work.

It had been almost a month now of our affair and we had been so perfect now to get caught that the last thing I needed was for Steve or Sam to walk into work and see Bucky’s lips all over me. There were a few stolen glances, soft touches, and quick kisses in his office. We opted on fully seeing each other at my house, never thinking of going to his house.

Most nights were spent having sex and Bucky left right after but lately, it had been lounging on the couch and watching movies, Bucky still leaving afterwards. Every time he would go back to Natasha, my heart would chip away. I couldn’t be upset with him though because that was the price for our affair.

“Where are you going?” Bucky pouted while reaching for me.

I playfully smacked his hands away. “Someone gave me a list of things to get done today and I’ve barely made a dent.”

He shrugged. “You can take a break. Boss’ orders.”

“You have a meeting with Stark in twenty minutes, remember?” I reminded him.

“All I need is five,” his brows wiggled while he leaned against the wall, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

My abdomen burned with his suggestive tone but I merely shook my head. “Trust me, I know that’s all you need. But I’m not risking getting caught cause you’re horny.”

His bottom lip pouted and after a quick glance around, I took it between my own lips while ghosting a hand down his stomach and ghosted over his cock. Bucky groaned into the kiss.

“Fucking tease,” he hissed.

I gave him one last kiss. “Come by tonight and maybe I’ll finish what I started.”

“I’m holding you to that, doll.”

A loud squeal erupted from my throat when I walked past Bucky and felt him smack my ass quite hard and he simply shrugged then walked into his office.

“Hey, what is Stark even coming for anyway?”

I was sitting at my desk while Bucky sat at his.

“He’s funding the next project for Barnes Industries,” Bucky said.

“Which is?” I pried with a small smile.

He shook his head, however. “Not something you need to know, doll.”

In the way he ended the conversation, I knew it wasn’t best to try and get more information out of him. There were some things that Bucky wouldn’t tell me about his place in the mob and even if he said it was for my safety, I couldn't help but wonder what he was working on behind closed doors.

The rest of the morning passed by pretty quick, the meeting with Stark taking up majority of Bucky’s time so I barely saw him. He did manage to send me a few texts during the meeting.

I miss you.

I bet you’re staring at your work with a small smile on your face.

All I can think about is your mouth on my cock.

The last one caused my cheeks to flush and I had to make sure no one was around to read it on my phone. Thankfully, Steve and Sam were out doing the lunch pick up for me, since they saw I was buried in work. The three of us had just finished our lunch together on the couch in the main area of the office when the door behind me opened Stark greeting us with a smile.

“Afternoon. Say, Y/N, I heard you stood up to Clint Barton,” Tony asked with a raised brow.

I gave a half shrug. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. I just told him that I knew more than he thought I did, that’s all.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Stark placed his infamous glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Barton doesn’t like being played like a fool, especially by women.”

My heart began to beat fast and Steve noticed the way I shifted in my chair, placing a comforting hand on my knee to stop it from shaking.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Y/N,” Steve assured me.

All I could do was nod while Bucky appeared behind Stark and showed him the way out, his eyes landing on Steve and me. The way his pupils darkened told me that he was jealous with how close we were.

Steve must have sensed it because he removed his hand, placing it in his own lap.

“Sam, any word from your guy if it’s ready?” Bucky asked.

Sam held up his phone. “It’ll be ready in an hour.”

I looked between them, confused, and wanted to ask what they were talking about but with the stance Bucky had, I kept my lips shut.

Bucky tossed a large leather bag onto Steve’s lap with a bit of extra force. “Why don’t you and Steve head over there to pick it up.”

Steve snickered while running a hand through his hair. “No need to be jealous, punk.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Get it done, jerk.”

He then turned his attention towards me. “Y/N, can I see you in my office please?”

I swallowed thickly. “Sure.”

Bucky watched as Sam and Steve left before following me close into his office, the door locking shut behind us.

“Did I do-?”

My question was seized with Bucky’s lips on mine, ravishingly attacking them, while he backed me against the wall and locked me in with his hips. I ran my hands through his short hair, wishing I had something to grab and pull, so I settled with tracing my fingers behind his neck.

Bucky’s vibranium hand snuck up my shirt and began palming my left breast, my moan being swallowed by his tongue. He pulled away briefly, his pupils blown from lust, and began to bite down hard on my neck.

“Bucky,” I hissed. “Someone will see.”

“I don’t care,” he grunted into my neck, hips grinding into mine.

My eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of ecstasy, the tip of his grown cock pressing into my thigh. I went to work on his belt in hopes that his pants would follow, however, his phone rang from pocket halting all of our actions.

Bucky cursed as he pulled away and fished the phone out, eyes scanning the screen.

“Is it important?” I asked, breathless from our kiss.

He nodded. “Why don’t you head home for the rest of the day. I’ll come by after dinner.”

I noticed the way his shoulders tensed, and face went rigid with anger.

“Anything I could help with?”

Bucky cupped my cheek and left a gentle kiss upon it. “I appreciate the help, doll. But I can handle it.”

“Alright,” I nodded. “Eight o'clock?”

“Eight o'clock,” Bucky grinned.

I slammed the drawer shut with force, retrieving the pen I had been looking for, and hastily wrote down the list of things I needed to pick up at the store today for the office. My breathing was low and deep, anger festering low in my belly.

“Doll,” the voice breathed against the shell of my ear.

I pushed away from him and my desk, walking towards the other end of the office to do whatever I found for myself. As long as I was far away from him, I didn’t care what it was.

“Y/N,” Bucky sighed as he followed me.

“Leave me alone,” I demanded, not bothering to look at him.

He stepped in front of me, blocking my path towards the small break room. A groan of annoyance rumbled out of my throat.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized with a small pout.

I scoffed and put all of my weight on my left foot. “You’re sorry? You fucking ditched me, Bucky. I waited all night for you.”

He nodded and wrapped a hand around my wrist, bringing it to his lips and peppered kisses all over the skin there.

“I know but something came up.”

“Right, of course. What was it, work?” I questioned.

Bucky swallowed and avoided my gaze. “Yeah.”

My eyes sliced into him and removed myself from his grasp. “You’re a shit liar. Natasha posted a picture of the two of you at some club last night.”

“Shit,” he cursed.

“If you wanted to spend time with her, that’s all you had to say. I get it, she comes first.”

My body was pressed up against a door behind me, Bucky capturing my lips in such a breathtaking kiss that I stood frozen in his embrace. It was a hard one, parting my lips with the force of it. There was nothing soft about it, the door I was pressed against rattling as Bucky shifted our position, his thigh digging into my heated core, and grabbed my face between his hands.

Every single thought I had in my head exploded, to a bright, pounding white and I felt a desire twist in my insides heat up, ready to snap with my orgasm, thanks to Bucky moving my hips up which caused me to rut my pussy against his thigh.

There was a screaming voice in my head, however, to stop this before someone walked in because even if we were hidden behind the wall, if someone turned the corner, they would catch us. I went to pull away but Bucky’s grip in my hair tightened while he swallowed my tongue.

“No,” he said, bringing my lips back to his. Just like the previous kiss before.

He had me in his hands like putty and I ignored the voice in my mind, hands sneaking underneath his suit jacket and pressed himself closer to me, my entire skin feeling as if it was on fire.

“Hello?” A petite voice echoed.

Bucky and I practically jumped away from each other after hearing the familiar voice and while I fixed my hair and shirt, Bucky shifted his now prominent dick, hoping it wouldn’t show her what we were just doing.

“Bucky?” The voice sounded again.

He walked out in the open and smiled at Natasha. “What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

I leaned up against the wall to take a few deep breaths, hoping that the extra time would calm the redness that spread over my body. Natasha couldn’t see me so there was no way she caught what we had been doing.

“Are you here alone?” Natasha asked.

Bucky side eyed me and nodded. “Yeah, everyone went out for lunch.”

“Well, Clint showed up to the house and he kept rambling on about-.”

He grasped Natasha’s arm to silence her before pulling her into his office, my eyes watching with curiosity as to what the hell he didn’t want me to hear.

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan #moment of weakness-mob!bucky barnes

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