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superkilometerfilter · 1 year

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Can The Car Diagnostic Tools Detect The Mileage Correction?

If you research the term – “car diagnostic tool”, the number of options available and the names may confuse you easily. If you have come across such names as a car scanner tool, OBD2 scanner, and many others you will know that they all describe the same tool.

Probably you have heard the suggestion to be cautious about an unusual sound that comes out of your automobile. Even though this can truly give you a hint that your vehicle requires attention it is sometimes late. You need to be proactive and observe Check Engine Light frequently to avoid premium charges for maintenance.

WHAT IS A CAR DIAGNOSTIC TOOL?

As we have already mentioned, sound is not always the best way to tell if there is something wrong with your car. A much better option to be proactive is to use a brand new car scanner tool. It is a gadget that we use to determine any flaws that affect the car. When you drive an automobile that has some issues you are risking damage to the other parts as well. Hence leads to higher charges and a longer waiting time to repair your vehicle. Car diagnostic tool makes it easier, to measure and determine such issues to let you know what problem you are dealing with.

It is a great tool to check the well-being of your car frequently. Even if you know how to make your car last longer, once in a while you will still encounter the issues that you will have to deal with. In such cases, the car scanner tool will be the most useful gadget that you could have, without hesitating whether is it worth buying or not.

HOW DOES IT WORK?

Modern cars have microchips, sensors, and processors that detect any unusual ties about the car and let you know by checking engine lights. The fault can be related to vehicles’ engine, transmission, oil, exhaust systems, and many other systems. However, simply flickering light will not tell you what is the problem that you are dealing with. That is where the role of the car diagnostic tool comes in.

The car scanner tool helps to retrieve the information from the memory unit of the automobile to understand exactly what the vehicle’s problem is about. Sometimes it may be a minor issue that we can easily solve or a fault that requires instant action. You will not be able to answer this question unless you use the scanner that gives you explicit information.

If you already have such a professional tool you can simply plug it in the OBD port (image 1). of your car and turn on the device. The DIY tool is easy to use for any individual. The port might be situated in different places based on the maker and the exact model of your car. Hence, you have to check it online to find the exact location. Depending on the quality and the functionality of the device, you may receive the exact code of the error or explicit data about the code meaning.

WHAT ARE THE DTC AND OBD CODES?

Diagnostic trouble codes (DTC) and On-board Diagnostic (OBD) codes refer nearly to the same thing. Therefore, people frequently use it interchangeably. Similarly, OBD codes can also be referred to as OBD II code as it is kind of the upgraded code that was introduced in 1996.

These are the codes that you will get when you use a car diagnostic tool. If your professional tool allows you to do so, you can check the problem details directly in the device or in the mobile application (app) that is integrated with OBD II Bluetooth scanner tools. If your car scanner tool doesn’t have such functionality, simply search for the code in Google and you will get all the information that you need to know.

As soon as you have the information about the fault the most advisable would be to go to a certified mechanic and solve the problem until it develops into something more important. However, if it is just a minor problem you can solve the problem on your own. This will save you not only the maintenance cost but also the time that you would have to wait in the queue.

IS CHECK ENGINE LIGHT ALWAYS A SIGN OF CAUTION?

Don’t freak out if you see a flickering light. Even though in some cases it might indicate a major problem, in some cases it just indicates that there is a small problem that needs fixing. Either way, it’s important to know what check engine light might mean. If you have automotive knowledge and general tools you may solve the issue without the interference of a technician. If you see a light make sure you check the error code as soon as possible to access the difficulty level of the problem and take appropriate steps.

WHAT EXTRA FUNCTIONS CAN CAR SCANNERS HAVE?

You may be surprised to hear but a car diagnostic tool can also be used to clean and reset the codes. This function can be useful for multiple purposes. Firstly, if you cannot solve the problem for some reason you may want to turn off the annoying light before you deal with the issues. Similarly, in some states in the US, you cannot register the car if the check engine light is on. The rule was active in 2020 and it is still active nowadays, in 2021. A high-end car scanner tool usually has the function to erase such error codes and make your car look flawless.

Similarly, as we have already mentioned some diagnostic tools might also display the error message description. Without further research, it will tell you what problem you are dealing with. Hence, you can access the severity of the problem and take appropriate measures accordingly.

Another important characteristic of a high-end OBD II scanner is retrieving the information that is recorded in the car. This might be the mileage of the car or any other information that you might be interested in. Especially insurance companies are willing to get this information as they rely on mileage figures to charge you a premium. Basically, relevant units record almost all the information that we see in the automobile. An appropriate tool can help you retrieve this information with ease.

DO I NEED TO HAVE A CAR SCANNER TOOL?

If you would like to determine the reason for the check engine light you have two options to buy the OBD II scanner or visit the technician for a diagnostic test. Even if your “best buddy” is brand new you may require such testing time by time. Carmakers tend to exaggerate performance stats and unfortunately, some issues may arise after owning a car for some time.

A car scanner tool is a vital tool that would be good to have. However, whether it is necessary for you or not will depend on your preferences. Because of the multiple numbers of brands out there you can already find a decent car diagnostic tool under $100. However, if you want to have additional features that we have discussed you will need to pay much more than $100. Even though many providers claim to have all the features, they don’t always provide reliable data.

The cost of a car diagnostic test may vary from $40 to $400. It will depend on the information that you require and the maker of your automobile. Although some places claim that they provide free diagnostic tests they charge you extra for any additional services that you will still require. Hence, you can expect to pay the same price despite the claims that they make. However, these prices significantly vary in different countries.

Despite the price, these methods differ in terms of the time that they require. The car diagnostic tool needs several minutes to show relevant information. On the other hand, a diagnostic test at a mechanic might cost you more than an hour based on the queue. OBD2 scanner can truly help you protect yourself from being overcharged.

HOW DOES THE CAR RECORD MILEAGE?

If you cover more distance than the average person does, you may be cautious about the digits displayed on the odometer. Hence, it would be good to know how the car records mileage to determine how it is sometimes altered from the memory of the car.

In order to measure the mileage, the car counts the wheel rotations and multiplies it by the average size of the wheel. Multiple storage units record this information and display it on the odometer.

If you intend to buy a pre-owned car, it is vital to know everything about the mileage. Even though the mileage is not the main determinant factor of the car’s condition, some sellers still manipulate it before selling. Hence, depending on the method that they use you can determine how to track back the actual mileage.

WHAT ARE THE TYPES OF MILEAGE CORRECTION TOOLS?

We can sort mileage correction tools into two main categories: odometer correction tools (mileage correction tools) and mileage stoppers (odometer blocker). The first device deals with digits that the odometer displays. However, the mileage stoppers can entirely alter the mileage details that you drive.

The main difference between these two types of tools is their purpose. The mileage correction tools are meant for deceptive purposes either for insurance companies or for individual buyers. On the other hand, manufacturers create the mileage stopper tools solely for testing purposes. If you would like to test your car in a controlled environment, you can install this module on your car and test it without recording the mileage. There are many fraudulent websites that sell seemingly good odometer blocker tools. Although, make sure you purchase only the premium-quality mileage stopper.

DO CAR DIAGNOSTIC TOOLS DETECT MILEAGE CORRECTION?

The short answer to this question is No. The car scanner tool cannot really access the vehicle’s actual odometer reading. It just calculated the mileage based on the distance between the start and endpoints of the road that you take.

However, we haven’t checked all the tools available for sale and there might be those that can detect mileage rollback. There are API tools that can truly determine such fraud. On the other hand, you can’t detect something that a tool never recorded. The mileage stopper tools entirely alter this information and no tool will ever be able to determine the altered distance.

However, be aware that this tool is not meant for fraudulent purposes. The solo role is to test the performance of your car. Many people use this tool to sell their car with favorable mileage and you have to be cautious when you buy a car. When active, the module alters the traveled distance unconditionally. If you have any further questions please visit the support page or contact the customer center.

TAKEAWAY

Car diagnostic tool is a useful gadget that can come in handy when checking engine light flickers on the dashboard. It can tell you what is the main flaw with your car either through an error code or with a thorough explanation. However, it cannot detect mileage correction issues as the calculations that it makes are based on assumptions rather than calculations. If you have to visit a technician frequently, a good car scanner tool may be what you need to avoid extra charges.

#Car #Diagnostic #tools

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nikki-writes-stuff · 4 years

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Beauty In the Blood - Part 5

Summary: One day your friend convinces you to join a dating website that matches people based on their search histories, and when you match with Loki Odinson, a handsome, intelligent coroner who’s a fan of your murder mysteries, you’re absolutely thrilled. But there’s something off about Loki, and as your relationship progresses, you discover that his dark side is even darker than you could ever have imagined…

Pairing: Serial Killer!Loki x Writer!Reader

Read part four here!

A/N: This story is based off of this post! I hope you guys enjoy; this is my first time writing Loki, and this will probably be the darkest thing I’ve ever written. Please let me know what you think as the story progresses!

*Please read to the end for another author’s note!*

A/N: Warning, folks! Here be smut! Nothing too dark in this chapter as far as gore or violence goes, though. Which... I suppose is a plus, considering this story. I hope you guys enjoy!

Too good to be true.

That was the thought that kept plaguing you, even four months later. He’s too good to be true. This relationship is too good to be true. What happens when I figure out that this is too good to possibly be true?

And yet, day after day, Loki continued to prove you wrong. It wasn’t all just the big romantic overtures that you found out he loved to make. (Like the time he had a dozen red roses delivered to your door on your one-months anniversary. Or the brand new matching wireless keyboard and mouse he got to make writing easier for you. Or the time he took you to a quaint, tucked away speak-easy to treat you to a night of drinks and slow dancing.)

It was in the little things, too. How he would come over on days where you felt less-than-good to hold you and watch your favorite movies. Or how he would send you texts throughout the day to tell you about an interesting case at work, or to ask you what you wanted for dinner on date night, or just to tell you that he was thinking about you.

In fact, some would even say that he was too attentive, too perfect, and were it anyone else, alarm bells would be going off in your head. But there was something about him that made you keep coming back for more, and even with months now behind you, you still couldn’t get enough.

And maybe that was why you were so nervous right now. Pacing back and forth across the length of your bedroom, you stared down at your stocking-clad feet as you tried frantically to tamp down the butterflies batting around your rib cage. You knew, consciously, that even if tonight were a disaster, Loki would still care about you. He wouldn’t just up and leave, even if Thor ended up despising you.

But you still really hoped he wouldn’t.

A gasp parted your lips when the tell-tale sound of your doorbell echoed throughout your home, and after one more deep breath, you pulled your heels on and made your way down the stairs. With one last glance in the mirror and a quick, silent prayer to whoever might be listening, you threw your purse over your shoulder and opened your front door.

His smile still caught you off guard sometimes. As you stepped out into the darkness of the evening, you felt heat flood your cheeks as Loki grinned up at you. He was dressed impeccably as always, sporting a dark green suit with a crisp white shirt, and if the way his eyes raked over you was anything to go by, he was more than pleased with how you looked, as well.

“And you must be the woman I’ve heard so much about!”

A loud, booming voice took you off guard, and you watched as annoyance flashed over your boyfriend��s face at the outburst. As he turned to shoot a glare over his shoulder, you caught a flash of the other man waiting at the base of your front steps, and though you already knew that Loki was adopted, you were still briefly taken aback by just how different the two brothers were.

Thor was just as large as Loki had described, and although the two stood at about the same height, his shoulders and build were so broad that he would have been quite intimidating, were it not for the large grin on his face. His long hair was pulled up into a loose bun, showing off a pair of blue eyes that seemed to radiate genuine happiness, and despite your still-present nerves, you couldn’t help but let a matching smile come over your features.

“Hi, Thor. Loki’s told me so much about you.”

“And I’m sure all of it is incredibly flattering, right?” He sent a conspiratorial glance back to Loki, who only raised an eyebrow.

“Whatever could I tell her about you that wouldn’t be flattering, brother?”

“Nothing comes to mind, seeing whereas I’ve never done anything wrong or questionable.”

“Thor Odinson? Perish the thought.”

The man in question let out a bark of laughter before turning back to you and extending his arm for a handshake.

“Well, my brother has nothing but glowing remarks about you,” he remarked, all but crushing your hand in his grip. “And I couldn’t be more thrilled to finally meet the woman who’s stolen Loki’s heart.”

Once more, you felt heat rising in your face, and you let out a nervous chuckle as Thor dropped your hand. From your right, you felt an arm slither around your waist, and you leaned into Loki’s warmth.

“Thank you so much! It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”

“You don’t need to lie for his sake, love,” Loki stage-whispered into your ear. Rolling your eyes, you gave him a nudge with your elbow, though Thor seemed to be used to his brother’s sass. Without a glance in his direction, Thor reached into his pocket and withdrew a set of keys, clicking a button on them until you heard a car beep close by.

“Shall we be off, then?” he asked. “We have about twenty minutes until our reservation.”

“That is if his driving doesn’t kill us along the way,” Loki snarked, guiding you towards the car with a hand on your lower back.

“I didn’t hear you offering to drive earlier, Loki,” Thor commented, sending his brother a look that elicited a scowl in response.

“Only because my car is in the shop. Remember?”

“Excuses, excuses.”

You giggled at the pained look your boyfriend sent you, pecking his cheek as Thor made his way around to the driver’s seat. Loki offered to sit in the back, but after a few moments of deliberation, you ended up sitting in the back with Loki on the passenger side next to Thor. Your seating arrangements ended up working out perfectly, though, because you had the perfect vantage point to watch the two brothers bicker over how to get to the restaurant. Loki was doing his best to navigate, but… Well. You quickly learned that it was of no use with Thor behind the wheel.

“I said take a left at Sycamore, Thor.”

“I heard you. But there’s a shortcut between Sycamore and Highland Street.”

“No, there’s not. Have you even driven through this part of New York before?”

“You forget I used to live here, too, brother. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Oh, just like you did when we were driving through London, yes?”

“That was your fault. If you hadn’t had tried to-“

“WATCH FOR PEDESTRIANS, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!”

Needless to say, the twenty minute drive was eventful to say the least, and you were only mildly traumatized by the way Thor was bobbing and weaving through the thick New York traffic. Even Loki looked a bit green from it, and you’d never seen your boyfriend shaken by anything. When both of you had your feet once again on solid ground, he wrapped an arm around you once again and whispered against your hair.

“I really do apologize for all of that, darling.”

“No, please don’t. It was funny,” you assured him, pecking his cheek as Thor rounded the vehicle towards you. “Usually you’re so…unperturbed. It was nice to see you a little ruffled.”

He sent you a bemused smile, but it vanished as Thor clapped him on the back hard enough to make him stumble forward a few steps.

“Well, nothing ruffles Loki’s feathers like me. It took an entire month of convincing for him to even agree to me visiting.”

“A decision I’m regretting more and more as the minutes tick by…”

Soon enough, the three of you were sat at a table in one of the nicest restaurants you’d ever been to. Surprisingly enough, Thor had recommended the place, and after your waiter came by to take your drink orders, you rested your hand on top of Loki’s and turned towards the blonde.

“Thank you for the restaurant suggestion, Thor. How’d you hear about this place?”

“My girlfriend actually told me about it. Usually when I’m in New York on business, I just go to local food trucks or pizza parlors. But Jane said that I should take you two somewhere nice. She apologizes for not being able to make the trip, by the way. She was just as curious about you as I was, but she had an important conference to give a lecture at.”

“That sounds amazing! And no worries; I’d love to meet her next time you’re in town. What do the two of you do for a living?”

“Well, Jane is an astronomer – one of the best in the entire world, actually,” he started, his eyes lighting up at the mention of his partner. “She’s lecturing on a new design she’s invented, some sort of spectrometer. Honestly, it all goes way over my head, but that’s why she’s the genius.”

“To be fair, most things go over your head, brother.”

Thor rolled his eyes at Loki’s quip, and when you turned towards your boyfriend, you saw that he had a small smile on his face to match the mischievous glint in his eyes. You knew better than to take him seriously; anyone would be able to see how close the two were, despite their back-and-forth.

“And what about you, Thor? Loki’s never told me what you do for a living.”

“I work for Stark Industries,” he replied, taking a sip of the large pint of beer he’d ordered. “It’s not much, but it keeps me busy.”

“Not much, indeed,” Loki interjected. “You’re only in charge of the entire marketing department, after all.”

Your eyes widened at that; Stark Industries was one of the biggest, most well-known brand names in the world. From appliances to electronics to clean energy, it was right up there with Google and Disney as far as most were concerned, and to think that Thor was in such a high-ranking position, well… From the things Loki had told you about Thor, you hadn’t expected such a career for him.

“Wow. That’s…incredible. So you know Tony Stark?”

“Oh, me and Tony are great friends. But I don’t ‘run’ the marketing department by any means. Just the UK faction of it.”

“’Just’?”

After that, the waiter stopped by to take your respective orders, after which Thor settled his attention on you once more.

“So, Loki has already told me about your writing. It’s funny to think of him dating the author responsible for those books he’s obsessed over for years.”

“I’m not obse-“

“Has he asked you to sign any of his copies yet?”

He had, jokingly, at one point. But you didn’t tell Thor that.

The rest of the evening passed by without incident, and your nerves quickly evaporated as the three of you laughed and talked through the rest of the meal. Loki liked to joke at Thor’s expense, but it was clear that he held his older brother in high regard, and Thor clearly loved Loki very much. More than a few times, you caught him watching you and Loki closely, a discerning, considering look in his eyes that belayed an intelligence you hadn’t expected. He might not be as book smart or as well-spoken as his younger sibling, but Thor obviously was good when it came to reading people. Whatever he was looking at, though, it didn’t disappoint, because any time your eyes met, he would send you a small, encouraging smile that would immediately dissipate any worries you might have had.

In what felt like no time at all, the three of you were piling out of the car at your house again, and you didn’t hesitate to return Thor’s hug as he said his goodbyes.

“It was wonderful to meet you,” he assured you. “Loki’s never let me meet any of his girlfriends before, but I see now that he was just waiting for the right one to come along first.”

Taken off guard by his genuine compliment, you could only blink up at him for a few moments in surprise before your brain kicked back in.

“That’s…so kind of you to say, Thor. Thank you.”

“No, thank you.”

After clapping you on the shoulder, Thor said his goodbye and got back into his car, giving you and Loki some privacy. As soon as his blonde head disappeared into the vehicle, you felt two cold hands cup your cheeks, and before you knew it, you were being pulled into a deep, toe-curling kiss, and you let yourself melt into your boyfriend’s embrace as he held you against him.

“That went well, I would say,” he murmured as the two of you finally parted. “He likes you, if that wasn’t already obvious.”

“I like him, too,” you smiled. “Thank you for letting me meet him.”

“I should be the one thanking you, love.”

He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but you watched as uncertainty began to creep along his features, and after a few moments of considering, his mouth snapped shut once again.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “I forgot what I was going to say, is all. I think driving with Thor still has my brains slightly scrambled.”

“Hm.” You didn’t believe him, not for a second, but whatever it was left your mind as soon as his lips came down onto yours once more. This kiss was slower than before, and lingering; his hands slid up over your hips to settle on your waist, and he let out a soft sigh through his nose before pulling away to set his forehead on yours.

“I should probably head home,” he whispered. “But Thor leaves out tomorrow morning. Would you like to come over tomorrow?”

“For dinner?”

“And dessert.”

You grinned, pressing one last kiss to his lips before taking a step towards your door.

“I love you, Loki. Have a good rest of your evening.”

“I will, darling. But only because I’ll be thinking of you.”

_______________

The two men drove in silence back to Loki’s house, leaving him to think back over the evening. It couldn’t have gone better, in his opinion. Thor liked you, but Thor was a bit like a golden retriever in that way. He loved most of the people he met, whereas Loki had always been more comparable to a cat; he needed to trust someone before deciding whether or not he liked them, typically, and his trust was not easily gained. In fact, there were only two people in the world he truly trusted, and now, they’d both finally made the other’s acquaintance.

The silence was finally broken when Thor parked in front of Loki’s home. As they both sat there, illuminated by the dashboard and streetlights, his elder brother turned to face him fully.

“I like her,” he announced, as though Loki couldn’t already tell that. “Does she know?”

Loki arched an eyebrow before getting out of the car and fishing his keys out of his pocket, striding up to his door as his brother scrambled to catch up with him.

“I have no idea what you could be alluding to,” he replied, opening his front door and bending down to scoop up Lovecraft, who had a habit of swiping at Thor anytime he tried to enter the house.

“Oh, I wonder,” Thor countered, shutting the door behind him before peeling off his winter coat. “I suppose I could be talking about your allergy to dogs. Or perhaps your aversion to the color orange. Or, oh, I don’t know, your habit of murdering innocents. Who knows?”

With a roll of his eyes, Loki hung his coat up beside Thor’s and started striding towards his basement stairs, trusting Thor to follow him.

“How many times must I tell you – there’s no such thing as ‘innocent’. Not in today’s world, at least.”

“Try telling that to a jury.”

“Hopefully it’ll never come to that point,” Loki sighed. He bypassed the first room of his basement, not giving a second glance to the old, miscellaneous pieces of furniture and the stacked boxes of keepsakes from childhood. No, instead he focused on the large, dusty bookshelf that covered the far wall of the room, reaching for the thick compendium of Shakespeare’s plays and sonnets that hid the keyhole.

“I’ll never get used to being down here…” Thor’s voice was uncharacteristically small in here; usually, his baritone could be heard from several rooms away, but his mood always took a dark turn when he was reminded of Loki’s…’proclivities’.

“You can always wait upstairs, you know,” Loki uttered without a backwards glance, fitting the small key into the lock and twisting until he heard a click.

“I know,” his brother assured him. “But I promised I’d help you, so let’s just get this over with.”

Smirking, Loki pocketed his keys and pulled the hidden door open, watching a section of the bookcase separate from the rest and turn on the hinges he’d installed so long ago. The creaking shriek they elicited made him wince, and he made a mental note to grease them before his next houseguest.

Luckily for Thor, the only beings alive or dead in Loki’s house were the two of them and Lovecraft, who pattered in after them before jumping up onto the chair in the corner. He typically didn’t allow his cat entry to this room, for obvious reasons, but he decided to leave her be as he knelt next to the detached backseat from his car that was sitting in the middle of the room.

“I’ve already replaced the stuffing; you just need to help me reupholster, and then I can do the rest.”

Thor knelt beside him with a grumble, grabbing a staplegun from his wall of power tools and torture instruments as he kept his eyes stubbornly focused on the seat.

“You know, if you used plastic tarps like any self-respecting serial killer would, you wouldn’t have to reupholster anything in the first place,” he groused. Loki knew that he had a point, and he usually did use plastic when transporting his victims.

“…This one was a bit of a last minute decision,” he finally conceded. “But I’m handling it, as you can see.”

Thor’s lips turned white as he pressed them together, pausing in his struggle to roll out more fabric.

“Loki, you can’t afford to make many last minute decisions with this sort of thing,” he muttered, all joking gone from his voice. “You promised me you’d be careful if and when you get these…urges.”

“And I am,” Loki assured his brother. “Truthfully. No one has ever suspected me of anything. Not once, and you know that.”

With a huff, Thor nodded and continued his work, his movements echoing in the concrete chamber. In the back of his mind, Loki knew that his brother was right, though. Five months ago, he never would have been so careless as to get a victim’s blood on his suede car seats. But, now that he had you in his life, all of his passions seemed to be reigniting. For one, he’d never had as much sex in his previous relationships as he was having with you. He also never felt the need to talk to someone as much as he spoke with you; he hadn’t had many girlfriends or boyfriends in the past, but the ones he’d had always complained about him being too distant, too aloof, too ‘unfeeling’. Now, though, he found himself craving you and your company at all times during the day, and his alone time was less and less precious to him as he considered how much better it would be having you by his side.

However, as those passions rose, others did as well. You and your newest novel were a constant source of inspiration to him, and his lust for blood had grown considerably. If he kept up the pace that he was at right now, he knew it would only be a matter of time before he slipped up. But he pushed that thought aside, as he always had. That was a bridge he would cross when he came upon it.

“…Will you ever tell (Y/N)?”

Thor’s question was sudden, and it made his hands still as he reached for the staple gun.

“…Are you suggesting that I do?”

“Of course not.” Thor shook his head, biting back a curse as he tried stretching a length of suede over the car seat’s frame. “At least, not right now. I think both of us know that it wouldn’t end well. But this is a…mammoth secret to keep from a significant other, Loki. And if you weren’t able to hide it from me, there will come a day when you won’t be able to hide it from her, either. Not if you’re going to keep her in your life.”

“You didn’t find out until I was twenty,” he countered. “And you only found out because I got sloppy.”

“I still knew that there was something off. And, if I’m being honest with myself, I suspected the truth for years before I caught you in the act.”

Loki’s eyebrows rose, and he didn’t know what was more surprising to him – the truth, or the fact that his brother was still able to take him off guard, even after all of the years spent together.

“…Truthfully?”

“Of course, Loki. I knew you weren’t sneaking out at night to go clubbing.” He chuckled a bit at the thought, though his laughter died the second he saw the look Loki shot him. “I saw you burning your clothes once, in the field behind our house. We were 17 at the time, I think. And I knew you wouldn’t burn them unless it were to hide…well. Bloodstains. It was the only explanation for why you decided to burn them in the middle of the night, at least.

“But I told myself that I was wrong. People do that, you know; when someone you love hurts you, or when they do something wrong, you know it. But you lie to yourself anyways.”

There was a long, heavy silence before the two brothers got back to work, one that was only broken several minutes later, when they were mostly finished.

“Loki?”

“Mm?”

Loki looked up, catching a solemn expression on Thor’s face that immediately didn’t sit right with him. For all of his sociopathic tendencies towards most people, he didn’t like to see his typically jovial sibling so serious.

“I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to be you,” Thor sighed. “I’ve never fully understood how your mind works, but I know that it’s hard for you to let people in. So I’m happy for you and (Y/N). I am. But I also know that, someday, she’s going to find out. It can either be from you slipping up, or from you telling her outright. But, someday, she’s going to find out.

“I meant what I said – when you find out that someone you love is bad, and that they’ve done bad things, you lie to yourself before accepting the truth. Just…promise me that you’ll look out for when she starts lying to herself about you. Alright?”

Loki swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as he thought about you, about how your face would twist into an expression of fear, of disgust, of hatred, when you finally found out about him. And his heart sank as he pictured the fragile reality you two had been living in all of a sudden crumpling into ash. He couldn’t even bear the thought of losing you, but what other choice would he have if you found him out?

“What are you suggesting I do when she finds out?” he asked, a slight waver making its way through the syllables despite his best interest.

“I’m asking what you’re prepared to do, brother. Think it over, and please, just be careful.”

____________

You woke up the next day to find a text waiting for you from an unknown number, but as soon as you opened it, a wide smile came over your face.

Loki wouldn’t give me your number, so I had to get it out of his phone while he slept. But I wanted to tell you before I fly back to London that it was lovely meeting you, and I’m very happy my brother finally found someone he loves. -Thor

The text was sent at 6:14am, so you knew that Thor was likely already on his plane, but you still tapped out a message before getting up and starting your day.

It was great to meet you, too! Have a safe trip back.

With that, you finally dragged yourself out of bed and went about your morning routine, sending Loki a quick good morning text as you ate breakfast. You were planning on finishing up the last chapter of your coroner story, and you were excited to let him read it that evening when it was done. He’d been so supportive throughout the entire writing process that you were making record time on it; even your editor was surprised at how productive you’d been lately, and you were anxious for his thoughts on the ending.

As you sat down at your computer to type it up, though, you saw that you had an email from your publisher, and your heartrate skyrocketed as you opened it up. You’d sent them the first five edited chapters a few weeks back, and even though you already had several published books, you still got excited anytime you heard back from them.

Your heart only beat faster as you read through their email, and though you’d only just sat down, you were soon leaping out of your chair once you were done. They were going to publish it! At least, they were going to as soon as you had all of the chapters. You’d been concerned that your main character wouldn’t have as much appeal as others of yours had in the past, but as it turned out, they loved Olivia.

Before you even realized what you were doing, your phone was out of your pocket and you were dialing Loki’s number, your fingers trembling in excitement. You tapped your foot anxiously as you waited for him to pick up, and when he finally did, he barely had time to say hello before you were telling him the good news.

“Hello, darling-“

“LOKI I HEARD BACK FROM MY PUBLISHER!” you cried, grinning from ear to ear. “Also hello! Good morning, my love.”

Loki’s velvety laugh only added to your elation, and you quickly ran up to your bedroom to start getting dressed.

“Good morning to you, too. I take it the news was good?”

“It was amazing news! Fantastic news, actually. I was going to finish the final chapter today, but now I’m too excited to focus!”

“Well, love, I’m sure that if you want to just take today to celebrate, it won’t put you too far behind schedule.”

“Speaking of celebrating, can I bring lunch by today on your break? If work isn’t too busy for you, that is.”

“That should be fine, darling; work is actually quite slow.”

“Perfect! I’m going to start getting dressed, but text me which restaurant you’d like, and I’ll pick it up. My treat!”

“Alright, love,” he chuckled. “I’ll see you around noon, then.”

After you two said your goodbyes, you flew through getting ready and ran a few errands before lunch time came around. Loki, as usually, had told you that he was fine with anything and that you should pick the restaurant, so you swung by your favorite bistro before taking a cab to Bellevue Hospital, waving at the front desk staff as you passed by. They all recognized you at this point from your previous visits to see Loki on his break, and they all smiled and waved back as you made your way to the elevators.

“(Y/N)!”

You turned to see one of the receptionists calling you over, and so you shifted the food boxes in your hands and approached the desk.

“Dr. Odinson asked me to tell you that he’s in his office – it’s on the same floor as the morgue, but take a left instead of a right when you get out of the elevators. His is the third office on the left.”

After thanking her for letting you know, you headed down that way, shivering as you stepped out into the cold basement floor. His office had a bronze name placard on it that had Loki’s name on it, and so, after a quiet knock, you walked in to find him sitting behind a tidy desk, tapping away at his laptop furiously.

“I come bearing gifts!” you announced, causing his head to pop up from staring at his screen.

“Come in, love,” he smiled, standing up to help you with the food. “Thank you so much for lunch.”

“Don’t mention it! I wanted to celebrate the latest book, and I can think of no way I’d like to celebrate more than to spend time with the man I love. …And that was incredibly cheesy, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Loki laughed, pulling the chair in front of his desk out for you. “But it was also very sweet, and I appreciate it more than you realize.”

After setting your food down on the desk, you sat down, not realizing that Loki wasn’t going back to his side of the desk until you heard the click of a lock sliding shut behind you. Turning around, you watched as Loki stepped away from the door, approaching you with a conniving glint in his eyes.

“Did…you just lock the door?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink.

“I did,” he confirmed. He didn’t elaborate further before sinking down onto his knees in front of you, and you only caught on to his intent after he gently took the to-go cup out of your hands to rest it on his desk.

“…Am I stuck in here with you, or are you stuck in here with me?” you joked, starting to squirm in your chair as Loki’s hands came down onto your knees.

The only answer you got was a wink before his lips were on yours, and all other thoughts fizzled out as his palms started creeping up your thighs, getting closer and closer to the waistband of your jeans. His tongue tasted like coffee as it glided over your own, and a small moan escaped your lips when his teeth gently nipped at your bottom lip.

“Are you sure about this?” you whispered as he started unbuttoning your pants. “I mean… What if we get caught?”

“We won’t get caught, love,” he assured you, slowly dragging your zipper down before beginning to slide your jeans off. “No one can stop us from having a little celebration. As long as you can keep quiet, that is.”

You lifted your hips as he tugged your trousers down your legs, taking your panties with them, and you shivered when you felt the cold leather chair against your exposed skin. Biting your lip, you slowly nodded your head, spreading your legs wider as Loki stooped down to place open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh. It was wrong; you knew that there were other doctors in the offices right next to his, and you had no idea how thick or thin the walls were. Could they hear how hard you were suddenly breathing? Would someone passing by be able to hear the low, muffled groans Loki was making as he nipped and sucked hickeys into your skin?

As if sensing your thoughts, Loki glanced upwards as he spread your thighs even further apart, his lips twitching up into a smirk before he suddenly grabbed your hips and pulled, forcing your ass closer to the edge of the chair. In the same instance, he leaned down and buried his face between your legs, his nose just barely brushing against your clit as his tongue started lapping at your entrance. Your eyes rolled back he slipped it inside of you, the vibrations from his voice like bolts of lightning as he let out a guttural growl. He’d commented before on how much he loved eating you out, and you had no reason to doubt him as he thrust his tongue deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Loki…” You kept your voice at a soft whisper, gripping his hair as his tongue started alternating between thrusting into you and tracing patterns into your clit. Your hips jolted every time he swirled his tongue over your swollen bud, and it wasn’t long until they started rocking up against his face of their own accord. If you were at home, you’d already be begging for more or moaning his name over and over again, but now you were acutely conscious of every sound the two of you were making.

The panting of your breath and the obscene, slick noise of his tongue moving against you seemed to echo in the small room. With every shift of your hips, the chair you were in creaked, and you were soon fighting not to move too much for fear that it would be too loud. You were biting your lip so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if you suddenly tasted blood, but the pleasure Loki was bringing you overshadowed any pain or discomfort.

Just as you felt the edge of your orgasm starting to approach, though, he was pulling away, licking his lips and watching your pussy clench around nothing as you tried to guide him back with the hands you had locked in his hair.

“Please,” you whimpered, “fuck, I was getting close-“

“Don’t worry, love,” he interrupted, leaning up to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m far from through with you.”

And that was all the warning you got before he scooped you up, setting you down onto his desk before you could do anything but let out a surprised gasp. At some point while he was eating you out, he must have taken his cock out of his pants, and now he was pushing you to lay on your back as he lined up with your entrance.

You gripped the edge of his desk so hard that your knuckles turned pale, but you still weren’t fully prepared for him to abruptly shove his cock inside of you, so hard that it pushed the air out of your lungs and pried a sharp moan from your lips. His hand came down over your mouth at its sound, and he leaned over you until your face was only inches from his.

“You have to stay quiet,” he panted, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting back into you. “You don’t want us to get caught, do you?”

You hurriedly shook your head no, and he nodded before pulling his hand away and sliding it between your bodies. You nearly moaned again once his fingertips found your clit, though, and you pressed your own hand to your mouth as he began playing with it in time with his thrusts.

“Good girl,” he purred, his own voice fighting back a moan as he started a fast rhythm. “Of course… Maybe you do want us to get caught.”

He punctuated his statement with a hard buck of his hips, and you pressed the back of your hand even harder to your lips as it startled another cry out you. The desk was beginning to creak in time with his movements, and you knew that anyone who walked by outside would be able to hear it. You just hoped that they couldn’t also hear Loki’s raspy breathing, or the way his balls were smacking against your ass with every thrust forward.

“Maybe you do want someone to hear me fucking you. Is that it?” he continued, his voice not once rising above a low growl. “Do you want them all to know that you’re mine? That you’re letting me use you, fuck you, right here in my office? Anyone with a key could get in, love. A janitor, another doctor… Anyone could come in and see what a good little slut you’re being for me. And you love that, don’t you?”

His thumb was moving faster and faster against your clit, and you were rapidly approaching your orgasm; you couldn’t remember the last time a partner had brought you so close so quickly. This was so different from how Loki usually was; typically, he was gentle with you, treating you like you would shatter if he were to grip you too tightly or kiss you too hard. But there were times, you’d found, when something else would peak through the cracks; some nights, his hand found its way around your throat, or his voice dropped into something predatory, threatening.

This was one of those times, evidently. And it always made something else rise up within you – the desire to submit, to bend to him completely, to let him have you and use you however he wanted. And so you did.

With a long, loud moan, you felt yourself cumming around his cock, so hard that it made your eyes roll back and your back arch up off of the desk, bending at an almost unnatural angle as your cunt clenched around him. Through the ringing in your ears, you heard him let out a muffled curse, and his thrusts began getting even harder, even faster, and through it all you laid back and took it. Your body was limp and pliable from your orgasm, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as he took what he wanted from it.

It wasn’t long, though, until he pulled out, stroking his cock a few more times before you felt his cum against your thighs and belly, staining your shirt with his release as he leaned heavily over you, catching his breath. After letting out a deep, heavy sigh, he leaned over, kissing you gently before resting his head on your chest.

“…Wow,” you breathed, settling one of your hands on the back of his head as your other arm drew him closer.

“I agree with that assessment,” he murmured, pressing a kiss over your heart before lazily turning towards you. “You did say you wanted to celebrate, though.”

A giggle escaped your lips at that, and he smiled softly before kissing you once again and slowly drawing himself up to full height.

“I’m…sorry, if I was too rough,” he began, but you sat up and pressed a finger to his lips, shaking your head.

“I liked it. Loki, I know you’d never hurt me,” you assured him. “And I know you don’t really mean it when you do things like call me a slut.”

“Good,” he nodded, his eyes skating over your face. “Because I don’t. And I would never, ever, hurt you.”

“Then don’t apologize for getting a little rough,” you countered, pecking his cheek before starting to stand on wobbly legs. “Because you better believe I enjoyed it.”

“Mm. I could tell.”

You swatted playfully at his arm before straightening your jeans and grabbing a tissue from his desk, dabbing at the cum he’d left on your shirt before giving up on the task entirely and deciding to just keep your coat buttoned up on the ride home.

“…(Y/N)?”

You turned to find Loki staring at you, having already smoothed his appearance back to its usual unrumpled state. The look in his eyes gave you pause, though – it was the same look that he’d had the night before, when he’d looked like he had something to tell you before deciding against it. Unbidden, fear suddenly swept over you, and you had the worst feeling that he was going to break things off, that he was going to tell you that he’d rushed into things and that he didn’t feel the same way as you.

Gulping, you stepped closer, fighting against the trembling in your hands as he took them between his, pressing a kiss to each of your palms before looking up at you once more.

“I’ve…been doing a lot of thinking, and Thor’s visit yesterday made me realize something,” he began.

“I haven’t ever felt this way about anyone before. And, if I’m being honest, sometimes it terrifies me. There are… There are things about me that I haven’t told anyone besides Thor, and even then, there are things he still doesn’t know.

“I came to the realization last night, though, that I want you to know everything about me. I want you to accept me, fully, as I’ve accepted you. And even if I’m not ready to share it all with you, I know that I want us to grow to that point together. I want you to be mine, yes, but I want to be yours, too. Wholly and completely.”

He took a deep breath, then, and your eyes grew wide as he reached into his pocket, taking out a small box and handing it to you.

“I had this made earlier today, after I dropped Thor off at the airport. And I realize that, yes, this is rushing things a bit, and I want you to know that it’s alright if you need to say no or if you need to think it over. But I’m ready to take the next step, whenever you are.”

Feeling as if time was suddenly moving in slow motion, you opened the box, tearing your eyes away from Loki just long enough to look down…

…and see a key waiting for you.

Immediately, your heart soared, and you looked up to see a tiny, hopeful smile on his lips.

“Will you move in with me, my love?”

And even though, yes, it was probably too soon, even though you’d only known Loki for four months, even though all of the logic inside of you was screaming against it, you didn’t hesitate before answering him.

“Yes!”

____________

A/N: WOW it took forever to write this. I am so sorry! 2020 has really had its way with me, as it has with all of us, and I can’t apologize enough for letting my writing get so far behind. THANK YOU to anyone and everyone reading this, though. I hope you all are having a safe holiday season, and please don’t hesitate to contact me if you ever wanna talk! You guys are the best readers in the world, and I appreciate every single one of you!

#beauty in the blood #loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #loki imagine #loki fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #serial killer #serial killer!loki #serial killer au #reader insert

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rivalsforlife · 3 years

Note

Do you have anything you wished was different from Ace Attorney canon?

Hello I'm finally slowly starting to get around to answering some of these! Sorry for the wait.

Uh this ask got super long so a basic summary of it: narumitsu being canon in a well-written way would be nice even though I don't think it would ever happen, I stand by not bringing back Phoenix as a main protagonist in DD, and I'd also want to rewrite all of SOJ so that Apollo goes to Khura'in in place of Phoenix, to have more interesting character stuff going on.

So the longer answer is this:

Aside from some of the actually problematic stuff that I don't feel qualified to talk about, story-wise, I answered a sort of similar question about a year ago here. I have changed my opinions a little bit since then, particularly with regards to the canonicity of narumitsu... because while I do love narumitsu I feel like I don't trust Ace Attorney to actually do it properly. After all if this past November has taught us anything "making a ship canon" could actually be quite undesirable and I have no desire to see Phoenix and/or Edgeworth sent to superhell. (I literally know nothing else about supernatural sorry about that.)

If capcom were somehow able to make narumitsu canon but in an unobtrusive way and as a natural progression of the storyline, like oh hey, the court record profile for Miles Edgeworth's Obligatory Last-Case Appearance has Phoenix mention they're dating, and maybe there's a few lines suggesting they live with each other, but it's not like... taking the entire story to force them together and otherwise does not change the way they interact with each other and butcher one or both of their characterizations in the process? I'd definitely be happy about that. Not gonna lie even if they made narumitsu canon in the most terrible way possible I'd have a "holy shit I can't believe they did that it's the best day of my life" kind of moment before I could think about it critically. But I honestly see no chance of them ever actually making narumitsu canon, so that's quite unrealistic to hope for anyways.

Aside from that in that other ask I talked about basically the premise of an Apollo trilogy and not bringing back Phoenix as the main protagonist in DD, and I still stand by that, buuut in my other ask I did touch on making SOJ a different game where Apollo goes to Khura'in instead of Phoenix - and you know what I'm going to take some time to actually talk about my dream version of SOJ because there were a lot of little things about the one we got that I didn't like. And it's going to be very long. So it's under a cut.

SO yeah I talked about it a bit in the other ask. I think that Phoenix going to Khura'in is a rather weak idea both externally and in-universe. In one of the interviews, too lazy to find which one, Phoenix basically goes to Khura'in because the writers couldn't figure out how to challenge him anymore. ... And then they don't actually challenge him at all. Because oh well now we're going to this new country where they KILL DEFENSE ATTORNEYS WHO LOSE and then it's supposed to be *shocking* that Phoenix would risk his life for a kid or his best friend. you know the guy who ran across a burning bridge to save his best friend. you know the guy who got punched in the face, nearly killed by the mafia, and tazed trying to save his clients. This doesn't tell me anything new about Phoenix's character. His whole travel in Khura'in doesn't tell me anything new about Phoenix's character. Basically the only reason he's there is to see Maya - Maya who theoretically would be returning home in about two weeks. Maya who was still in her training for two more weeks when Phoenix visited so he wouldn't be able to see her anyways. ... And in the meantime Trucy had the biggest show of her life that was going to be on TV and Phoenix wasn't there for it. And of course Phoenix didn't return home after Trucy was accused of murder (yes he couldn't be there for the trial, but he definitely could have for the emotional support afterwards) and instead just sits for two weeks in Khura'in doing literally nothing after Ahlbi's trial.

(And yes I know about the anime prologue that has Phoenix think Maya's in danger... but that's not strictly canon since it's never mentioned in game, isn't technically a part of the game, and even still, why wouldn't he go home after knowing that Maya's safe and that Trucy had been ACCUSED OF MURDER. Honestly that's what makes me angriest about this whole thing is that it makes Phoenix out to be a terrible dad. We really don't need any more takes like that, especially not from canon.)

And what about Apollo, you may ask? Well, given case 5 of SOJ, Apollo actually has a personal link to Khura'in and ends up staying there afterwards... after being there for like a day or two. I should note here that it has been a while since I went through SOJ in its entirety so I am fuzzy on many of the details. But both through what I remember and some conversations with people who actually played the game recently, the motivation for Apollo to actually stay in Khura'in isn't that great. It mainly seemed like guilt about his dead dad who he hadn't been in contact with for years and had completely written off until a few days ago but oh he died and then went to go visit him so... better take up the law office!

If Apollo had gone to Khura'in in place of Phoenix and spent more time there, reconnecting with his childhood home and actually getting passionate seeing how corrupt the legal system is there (even though we have a corrupt legal system at home) and being driven to fix it, that would make for a stronger story, I think. The Khura'in plot is more personally focused around Apollo than it is Phoenix. Phoenix's connection to Khura'in is through Maya, but Maya doesn't really have much of a connection to it aside from "it's where spirit channeling is from and she trains there". But Apollo, I guess, grew up there. So it's so strange to me that they force all of Apollo's connection to Khura'in in the last case while Phoenix is running around doing who-knows-what for the rest of the game. Phoenix spends more time getting to know the state of Khura'in and the Defiant Dragons and case 3's whole thing but he isn't the one who in the end decides to sit down and fix it; that's all on Apollo. It almost feels like they forced one of the two plots in to everything. And it was probably conceived as a Phoenix story that they needed to fit Apollo into last minute because oops he's supposed to be a protagonist too.

Some other strengths to Apollo going to Khura'in include that it would shake up the character dynamics a bit. Instead of Phoenix defending Maya, it's Apollo defending Maya, and that's a particularly interesting thing to look at in the context of Khura'in's "we kill defense attorneys" system. Of course, Phoenix would risk his life to save Maya, 100%, every time. But what about Apollo, who hasn't met Maya, who only knows her as "Mr. Wright's former assistant" - would he risk his life for her? And I feel like Maya would argue more against him defending her because of that. "We're strangers, you don't know me, you don't have to risk your life defending me." (Sidenote that I was always upset that Maya didn't protest much when Phoenix offered to defend her, knowing his life was at risk - sure she knows him better and knows he's always been able to get her out of these situations, but at the same time, the fact that there was no "what about your daughter?" conversation sucks. I really wish SOJ wouldn't have like. completely forgotten about the phoenix-trucy father-daughterisms.)

Let's say Apollo goes to Khura'in. Phoenix stays at home. Phoenix gets a call from Apollo that's basically "uhh hi Mr. Wright you know your friend Maya, she's been arrested for murder, if I defend her and I lose we're both dead," then you can tie in to that moment in 6-2 where Phoenix (who can't make it in time for the trial!) believes in Apollo and his skills as an attorney, not just to save Maya's life, but also his own. It ties in a bit more to the overall challenge of defending someone at the risk of your own life. Again, Phoenix would have very few hesitations, if any, risking his life to defend Maya. Apollo may have more defending a stranger at the risk of his own life.

Then if you can actually have Apollo and Maya talk together that would be neat - Maya can tell him embarrassing stories about Phoenix's rookie days, for instance. Their dynamic would be quite a bit different from Phoenix and Maya's, and that would be an interesting thing to see, unlike what we have in SOJ where all of Maya's substantial interactions are with characters she already knows or brand new characters.

(It would also be pretty neat to know more spirit channeling politics and dive in more to Maya's perspective on Khura'in and also her role as upcoming Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique and where she plans to lead the village in the future and also reconcile with her family's bloody legacy, but I'm not quite sure how to fit that in right now.)

And how about Phoenix, back home in Japanifornia? Evidently he'd end up being in charge of defending Trucy. Now, I did love the siblingsisms in canon 6-2, but I feel like there is still potential for Phoenix defending Trucy. All of Apollo Justice has a bunch of good moments between Apollo and Trucy, and she's co-counsel on all his trials, but we've never had any substantial Phoenix and Trucy investigation or co-counsel moments. I feel like AU 6-2 would be a great opportunity to dive more into Phoenix and Trucy's relationship and how it may have changed after Phoenix got his badge back. Plus, Phoenix being "the only one who knows how she really feels on the inside", he'd have unique insider knowledge into some of the Gramarye stuff that comes up in the case and Trucy's personal connection to the Gramaryes, which Apollo knows a bit of, but Phoenix knows more of. ... Or at least, should know more of, given that he raised Trucy for nine years at this point and they're very close, and Phoenix knows her better than anyone else does, even if capcom has forgotten this.

... Of course having Athena defend the case would also be great because more Athena spotlight is never a bad thing, but it's hard to come up with a reason why Phoenix wouldn't be there to defend her. And doing more switcheroos in terms of role in the plot is a bit beyond the scope of what I have in mind right now. Sorry Athena.

Aside from that, Athena still gets Storyteller, Apollo still heads Turnabout Revolution, and Phoenix still gets the DLC case. Apollo stays in Khura'in in the end with a bit more to his motivations. Rather than it just being about carrying on Dhurke's legacy, it's also something Apollo is passionate about after all he witnessed here. While we're at it I'd still rework a lot of Turnabout Revolution to make it so that Phoenix genuinely believes in Atishon because that makes for sooo much more interesting of a plot and actual character development on Phoenix's part than "Maya was kidnapped again and Phoenix is only wrong when he has no other choice", but that'd require some more detail and this post is long enough already.

And in terms of other details that need to be sorted out, there's the question of why Apollo would need to go to Khura'in in the first place. I'd probably say something to do with Dhurke. Maybe he comes back a bit earlier - actually alive, maybe, though crossing borders would be a bit of a challenge, or he reaches out to Apollo remotely somehow and Apollo goes to yell in his face about abandoning him (or at least that's what he thinks he wants.) Then we could have some more Dhurke and Apollo bonding time, potentially? Idk, if you switch up Phoenix and Apollo you're pretty much writing a whole new game and obviously I have not worked out all the details, but I think if Capcom had tried to go with this route from the outset they'd have a stronger game. At least stronger character motivations.

So... yeah. Those are my opinions. If you read through this whole thing I'm very impressed because it got very long!

#asks #soj spoilers #aa6 spoilers

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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years

Text

Branded - Chapter 46

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You try to find your way back.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Angst, anxiety, mild body horror

AO3

You woke up coughing and gagging, pulling your jacket out from under your head to wrap it around your face. For there to be so much dust in the air, another dust storm must have kicked up outside.

Just as predicted, when you looked out one of the air holes of the cave system, you saw the wall of dust that cut off all sight after a few feet.

You sighed and sat back in the deepest part of the cave, making sure to keep the jacket wrapped around your head. It was much different being here as a physical entity instead of just living in someone’s head. You knew which one you preferred.

Still coughing frequently, you picked up a stone tool, no bigger than a piece of chalk, and added another tick to the rows of marks Bucky had started. Tenth day in the demon realm, with no sign of rescue.

It had been sheer luck that you’d woken up in a place with landmarks you actually recognized. You weren’t far from Bucky’s old territory, and after hours of walking barefoot through the sand, socks stuffed into your pockets, you made it to the cave system he’d used as a home base.

Seeing the same walls, the edible fungus, the dried “bamboo” strips as bedding, even the old journal Bucky had left behind, it had been the most relieving and the most painful thing you’d felt in a while. That was saying a lot, considering you’d been murdered just a few hours prior.

Your shelter and source of food and water secured, you’d done nothing but decompress, going over everything that had happened.

Bucky falling into Zemo’s trap. Forced to be a weapon once more and ordered to kill Rogers. He probably would have if you hadn’t managed to pull on the thin thread that had remained of your bond.

The irony wasn’t lost on you. The bond you’d both wanted to get rid of had been the thing to save Bucky’s life. The cursed book had been right; the only thing that could break your bond was Bucky’s death… or yours. It hadn’t said the death would result in you being banished to the demon realm, but it wasn’t like the damn book had been trying to be helpful to begin with.

No, if anything, the ancient sorcerer whose words it had quoted had been more insightful. Especially the part where he’d witnessed a human slave die in his master’s place, and his body had burned to ashes.

Is that what had happened to you? Had Bucky been forced to watch as you’d crumpled to dust in his hands? God, you hoped not.

At least it explained how you ended up here and that corpse you’d seen through Bucky’s eyes. A human with a demon sigil, it could only mean one thing. This was where all human slaves ended up, eventually.

You just hoped you wouldn’t meet the same fate.

Thoughts turned back to Bucky as they usually were, you couldn’t begin to imagine how Bucky was dealing with your death. All you could hope was that he realized it hadn’t been permanent, and that he would find a way to the demon realm without dying himself. Knowing him, Bucky would take that route if he had to.

But here it was, day ten, and you were beginning to have doubts. You knew time flowed differently here and you would have to be patient, but it was impossibly difficult. You just prayed you wouldn’t have to wait another fifty years. Unlike Bucky, you doubted you would remain ageless in this place.

Day ten became day eleven. And then twelve. And then you’d been in the demon realm for two weeks with no sign of Bucky or the wizards.

At day fifteen, you decided it was time to stop waiting, and time to start being proactive. If your rescuers couldn’t come to you, perhaps you could bring yourselves to them. You’d glimpsed the truth in Bucky’s memories after him coming through the portal. Your younger self had practically bragged about opening a portal, and you’d been ten years old.

Surely you could still do it, even if you didn’t remember how… and even though you’d never shown a spark of magic while training under Wong.

But what else was there to do? It wasn’t as if there was anyone else around to embarrass yourself in front of.

Only… that turned out not to be the case.

You had managed to create a spark in the air. It was orange and sputtered after a few seconds, but it was the most you’d ever accomplished before. After a few more hours, you got a glowing circle the size of a hula-hoop.

But it was the wrong color, orange and not blue, and the image you could see through it was just more red sand. You didn’t need to travel across the planet; you needed to get away from it.

Frustrated, you weren’t as aware of your surroundings as you should have been, and that was when the demon attacked. Drooling and growling, it charged at you from over the sands and chased you into the cave system. You recognized it from before; a large beast that looked like it was part-bear, part-bull, and it was pissed.

Terrified and without thought, you made a jerky circular motion just as the demon launched itself at you.

The portal fizzled to life and vanished just as quickly, and the bottom half of a demon body landed on top of you. It was still smoking from where the portal had sliced through it like a hot blade.

It was the first and last time you tried to make a portal.

The days continued to crawl by until a month had passed, or at least, the best you could guess as days and months when the sunlight never changed or faded.

Until it finally did. And that’s when things truly started to take a turn for the worst.

You’d managed to keep your spirits up by reading the journal Bucky had left behind, reliving the time you’d spent together in a weird, symbiotic partnership, but when the rare night came and shrouded everything in cold darkness, you didn’t even have Bucky’s words to comfort you. The jacket was no longer a breathing mask and went back on your shoulders, barely keeping the chill at bay.

Through the dim starlight that came through the overhead holes in the ceiling, you could see your breath fogging up before you. You huddled into a tighter ball, tried to keep your emotions in check, and eventually gave up. You turned your head and sobbed quietly into your arms, letting the despair and fear pour out of you like a flooded dam.

And still it grew colder. You couldn’t remember Bucky being this cold, but then again, he wasn’t fully human. Plus, even though you’d been an observer in his head, you’d been able to raise his body temperature and keep him warm.

Now, all you could do was shiver and stay huddled against the wall that still retained heat from the day. You didn’t want to think about what you’d do when it faded.

Somehow in the night, you’d managed to fall asleep, or maybe fall unconscious. When you stirred, something was… wrong. You shifted your arms and legs and your skin tingled oddly, goosebumps breaking out along your flesh as the sensations felt off, both muffled and heightened at the same time.

You opened your eyes and wished you hadn’t. Instead of the bare skin of your arms… they were covered with grey-blue fur. Smooth, short, and thick, like a cat’s.

The panicked sound you made wasn’t human, and that just made the panic worse. You scrambled across the cave floor and ran to the nearby underground stream. There would be enough light now that the sun had risen for you to see…

Horns.

The face staring back at you was barely your own. Thin fur covered your face entirely, your pupils were no longer round but narrowed into slits, and the horns. They curved from either side of your forehead, several inches in length and grey, like ashy bone.

That wasn’t the only oddity. You turned your head and gasped at the long, pointed ears sticking out from under your hair.

You looked like a strange mixture of part-human, part-demon, part-cat.

This can’t be real. I’m hallucinating. Exposed to the cold, this is just the effect of a dying mind.

Expect, it didn’t go away. Your shock continued to mount as you took stock of the rest of yourself. The same blue-grey fur covered every inch of you. When you flexed your fingers, sharp nails slide outward from the nailbed, strange but natural at the same time.

You weren’t completely cat-like. There were the horns, of course, but when you stretched and felt along the back of your neck, scaly ridges continued all the way down your spine to your—

You jumped when something moved inside your pant leg, and you earned yourself a flare of pain when you slapped it to discover it was a long, puffed up, furry tail.

You startled giggling. The giggling devolved into hysterical laughter, and when that faded, it turned into breathless crying.

Now you knew why you hadn’t frozen to death in the night.

Your curiosity as to what you had become waned along with the days. The anxiety and fear was gone too. Something important had slipped your mind, like a half-forgotten dream, but there was nothing to remember. You had your cave system, your food source, and your territory to defend. There was nothing else you could possibly want.

Even the scorching sunlight no longer bothered you and instead filled you with strength. Your fur protected you from the worse of the sandy wind, and a third eyelid, transparent and able to cover your eye, allowed you to see even in the worst of dust storms. And there was a power that seemed to sustain you, an energy from this place that kept you strong and brimming with a power you didn’t quite understand.

Your body was perfectly suited for this world, and after a while, you couldn’t remember a time when it’d been any different.

Sometimes, you had dreams. Confusing ones, because they were of both a man and a demon. You always woke from these with your chest aching and your vision blurred, but you blinked the moisture away and soon, those were also forgotten.

Most demons knew better than to encroach on your territory, and in turn, you left them to theirs. Any demons foolish enough to ignore your boundaries were easily chased away with your outstretched talons and ripping claws. Once, when a demon that stood twice your size and had the head of a skeletal horse (how did you know that word?) tried to push you out, you conjured a rope of fiery orange. Striking at the beast, you’d left a burn across its back, and it hadn’t returned since.

You were comfortable in your solitude. Barring the strange dreams and the moments when you would wake up, confused into believing something was missing, you were content.

Until the day when a new, strange demon encroached on your territory. Worse than that, he’d wandered into your cave system. You were grooming yourself, tongue licking across the fur on your forearm, when you heard the telltale sounds of feet moving against the stone floor.

You hid in the shadows, eyes narrowed into slits as you waited. It didn’t take long for the intruder to walk directly into your cave, and you were taken aback at its appearance.

It—no, he, the demon was definitely masculine, with broad shoulders and prominent facial features. He seemed human, but the rest of him was not, with a demonic arm, wings, horns, and a tail.

He raised his head and flared his nostrils, testing the air at the same moment you caught a whiff of his scent. It was almost overpowering, heady and male, and your fur puffed up in response. This demon would try to take your home from you, and you wouldn’t allow it. You’d defeated bigger threats than him.

When he turned toward your makeshift nest and bent down to open the journal you no longer took interest in, you crept from your hidden nook. The demon was still crouched, his tail lying flat against the ground, but the tip flicked back and forth.

You drew closer, closer still, completely silent and pointed teeth bared. Bunching your muscles into a tight coil you leapt, claws outstretched.

The demon turned just before you landed.

He grabbed you around the throat, spun in one fluid motion, and slammed you against the cave wall.

You released a yowl and dug your claws into him, but they merely skidded off the shifting plates of his arm, leaving him unmarked.

Pinned with your back to the wall, you were trapped with his claws around your neck. The demon bared his teeth in his own impressive growl, inches from your face. His eyes were a cold sort of fury that made you doubt your chances of survival.

“Where is she!”

He spoke a language you somehow understood. The words had meaning, but you didn’t know what they were, so you remained silent.

When you didn’t answer he leaned forward, fangs sharp and ready to tear open your throat.

“You reek of her, and these are her clothes. Did you—did you kill her?”

You gave him nothing but a growl in your throat. When he squeezed tighter around your neck, you bared your teeth and snarled in hatred.

Just as quickly as it had arrived, his deadly glare vanished. He blinked rapidly, brows furrowed as if trying to put together a puzzle. And then his grip relaxed as something very different crossed over his face.

“No…”

He was distracted, his mind clearly elsewhere, and you wiggled out of his grip and tried to dart past him. The demon immediately seized you from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around you so you couldn’t escape.

You screamed and fought, your feet shoving against the ground for purchase, but with your arms pinned to your sides you couldn’t even conjure the fiery rope to defend yourself.

“Stop, stop, it’s me!” he cried. “It’s Bucky!”

His words were simply noise, and you swiveled your head to bite into his shoulder, this time making sure it was the fleshy one. But he still wouldn’t release you, even as the coppery taste of blood touched your tongue.

He gripped you tighter, and you let go of his shoulder and continued to struggle. He was much larger and stronger than you, and he didn’t move an inch. Instead, something soft touched your hair, and you realized it was one of his hands.

Gathering your strength for one last attempt, you twisted violently in his arms, pulled back your lips and sank your teeth into the junction between neck and shoulder, biting down. You were about to take out a chunk of his flesh when the concentrated aroma of his scent slammed into you.

You released him, licking the blood off your lips, and carefully sniffed higher up his neck. Something pulled at you, something familiar but lost, and you gave a curious lick just below his jawline.

Pine trees, earth, warm stone. He smelled like…

He smelled like…

Home.

You pulled back, staring in horror as blood continued to trickle down his neck.

You knew him. You knew him, how could you forget him, how could you forget—

You tried to say his name, but no words came out. You couldn’t speak. When had you lost the ability to talk?

When had you forgotten Bucky?

“Sweetheart?”

You whimpered at the cautious hope in his voice, at the pet name, at him being here.

Bucky wrapped his arms tighter around you, and you began to lick at the wound you’d caused, an apology and a way to prove he was real and you weren’t imagining this. To force yourself to remember everything you’d almost lost, even as the pain and grief grew worse every second.

Bucky had finally found you.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he apologized, voice choked with tears. “I came as soon as I could… I thought I was too late.”

But he was too late, wasn’t he?

You stopped mid-lick. Your tongue had done a decent job of cleaning his wound, because it wasn’t a human tongue anymore. It was dry and barbed, like a cat’s.

You buried your face into his shoulder, giving another miserable noise. How could you go back home now? You were a monster. A thing made of the demon realm. How could Bucky stand to even look at you, let alone touch you?

When you tried to pull away, he wouldn’t let you. Even his tail was stubbornly wound around your leg now.

“We’re going home,” he said, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. You tried to jerk away, not wanting him to look at you, but he didn’t let you budge an inch. “We are going home.”

His image blurred as your eyes stung. How could he say that when you were… when you…

“It’s okay,” he said when the tears slipped down your furred cheeks. He brushed them away and pressed his lips against your forehead. You sighed and closed your eyes. “You’re okay. I’m not leaving you. This time, for good.”

You wanted to believe him, but how could you when you had the face of the very thing he hated about himself?

As if knowing your thoughts and afraid you would bolt, Bucky kept one arm firmly around your waist. He turned you toward the cave exit that would lead into the tunnels, but you resisted, pointing down to the nest when he looked at you.

Seeing what you were pointing at, a brief flash of fondness and pain crossed his face. He picked up the book, Bucky’s old journal that had documented his days and adventures with the “mysterious voice,” and you grabbed it and held it to your chest. You’d forgotten before, but now you remembered how this book had been your lifeline, and you couldn’t bear to leave it behind.

“Ready?” he asked, voice soft, eyes even softer.

You nodded, leaning into him when he tucked you against his side. Now that you remembered who he was, the thought of not touching him for even a second was unthinkable.

Bucky led you outside, and you spared a single glance backwards at the series of mounds, hills, and boulders that signified there was an underground cave system. It had saved your life, and before that, Bucky’s. It had been your temporary shelter, but it wasn’t where you belonged.

Spreading his wings, Bucky lifted you easily into his arms and leapt into the air. You curled protectively around the journal, but you felt safer now than you had since being captured by Zemo. As the hot, dry air ruffled your hair and fur, a deep rumbling came from inside your chest. It took you a moment to realize you were purring. Indicating he could hear it too, Bucky kissed the top of your head, making your purring even louder.

You kept your eyes closed and pressed to Bucky’s tactical vest until he said, “There it is.”

You turned to look, eyes widening at the sight of a shimmering blue portal near the ground. It looked tiny from this distance, and your stomach churned with nerves.

“Hold on!”

Taking Bucky’s advice, you gripped onto him tightly as he dived. Just before he went through, you shut your eyes tight.

The difference between the demon realm and Earth was a lot more extreme than you remembered filtered through Bucky’s memories. You immediately started shivering, buffeted by the cold air, taking shallow breaths because each one felt like you were breathing ice water.

The colors assaulted your vision—bluebluegreenblue—leaving you whimpering into Bucky’s shoulder, painful after you’d seen nothing but red for so long.

And the smells. No longer diluted with dry air constantly in motion, the salty and perfumed scent of multiple humans, of mildew and stone and ozone that made the tip of your tongue tingle—

It was too much. As soon as Bucky slightly relaxed his hold, you dropped the journal and scrambled behind him, hiding between his wings as you buried your face in the back of his neck.

It was toomuchtoomuchtoomuch—

“Sergeant Barnes, is that… who I think it is?”

The smooth, commanding voice was familiar, but you couldn’t place it. Unlike your recognition of Bucky, everything else was a struggle to recall. You didn’t even know where you were, the domed room unfamiliar and intimidating.

“Yes,” Bucky responded in a low tone.

“Ah, well, that is… unfortunate.” The man who had originally spoken cleared his throat. “We will need to do a thorough examination—“

You had peeked over Bucky’s shoulder to get a better look at the others in the room—they were wizards, weren’t they?—but as soon as one of them drew forward, you gave a spitting snarl.

“Or not,” the man said, raising his hands. He had a goatee and a ridiculous red cape. Your ruffled fur went flat against your skin. Was that… Strange? And next to him, concerned but not without pity, your mentor, Wong.

How could you have forgotten so much? How long had you been gone?

You hid behind Bucky’s shoulder blades, misery forcing your ears to fold back and curl your tail between your legs.

“I’m taking her home,” Bucky said quietly.

“But—“

“No,” he said, more firmly this time. “I’ve been where she is and I know what she needs. She needs to feel safe, somewhere quiet and familiar.”

He waited a beat.

“Are you going to stop me?”

“No.” Strange’s tone was weary but surprisingly relenting. “I’m not. Just make sure you take your next doses with you.”

“I know,” Bucky muttered and then bent down to pick up the journal you’d dropped.

He did it slowly and carefully so as not to dislodge you, because you still half-clung to his back like a lost duckling. It would have been funny if you weren’t already knee-deep in the urge to bolt. Your fur was puffed again, as far as it would go, heart hammering in your chest, and all of your senses were in overdrive as you struggled and failed to adjust to your new environment.

When Bucky straightened up again, you retreated into the sanctum of his folded wings and refused to let go. You couldn’t bear to look around, not when you could sense the wizard’s peering at you, at the freakish thing you’d become. Just the thought of it provoked a whine from your throat.

“One of you mind making a portal?” Bucky said dryly. “The sun’s still up and we’re obviously not taking a cab.”

You heard footsteps shuffling against the stones, and you clung tighter to Bucky. He reached back and put a hand on your leg, reassuring you he wasn’t leaving. Your trembling subsided slightly, but every muscle of your body was still taut enough to snap.

When he stepped forward, you went with him, keeping your eyes shut until you felt the familiar but unsettling shift of space as you stepped through a portal. Only when it fizzled out behind you and you caught the comforting scent of Bucky’s penthouse did you open your eyes.

You thought by “home” he would take you back to your room at the Sanctum. Instead, you were standing in the middle of Bucky’s loft.

Before Bucky could say or do anything, you buried your face in his jacket and released everything you’d kept buried, your soft keening echoing inside the old clock tower.

Next Chapter

#branded #demon!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #demon!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #i'm sorry whoever i stole the gif from i couldnt find the source to share it

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straydawg-writing · 4 years

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

- 𝓚. 𝙯𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙮𝙘𝙠

• hunter x hunter series

⋯✰⋯

Chapter 3—

"Don't they have anything at least a LITTLE flattering? I get they're like hippie-extremists, but not all of us want to look like a sack of potatoes," you complained, swiping through their clothing racks that screamed no-potential-whatsoever.

You'd finally arrived at NGL headquarters, only for them to make the three of you throw out your phones and clothes. It's like they were still living in the 18th century.

"It's only clothes. Just pick whatever," Killua replied while browsing through the selection, though he looked equally as aggravated and bored. He did have at least some style that he wanted to upkeep.

Gon on the other hand didn't seem to care.

"You think they have anything green?" He wondered out loud.

You pulled out a set of white pants with a blue long sleeves top.

"Hey Killua."

"Yeah?"

You shoved the set into his arms, giving him a bright smile.

"Try this on, I think it would match your eyes well."

"Idiot. The Chimera Ants won't be looking at my eyes when we're fighting them." Pink dusted his cheeks as he looked to the side, avoiding eye contact.

He bought the outfit without even trying it on.

Gon pouted. "Wait, what about me?"

You pulled out two more similar sets. One was a pair of green pants and a white tank top, while the other was burgundy pants with a black top. That one was yours.

"We can all match!" You grinned, relieved you finally found something that wouldn't make you all look like homeless children. "Well, sort of." The sets were still different colors, but they retained the same general style.

"Oh, great idea Y/N! I'll go change into it now," Gon beamed, nearly skipping all the way to the changing room with his brand new green pants. It was about time he put on something different for a change, you inwardly joked.

Killua was already walking back from the stalls when Gon ran past him.

"Wow Killua, look at that drip~" You whistled, checking out his new outfit.

"You're so hopeless," he sighed, bonking the top of your head.

You rubbed where he had hit and stuck out your tongue, pretending to be hurt. It was the truth though, he looked really good in the outfit you had picked out. Peeking at him while he wasn't looking, you discovered that the tight-skinned long sleeves accentuated his arms in a way you'd never noticed before, hugging his lean muscles. You were right about the royal-colored shirt bringing out his pretty blue eyes. And the way his pale skin and white hair contrasted them even looked a little heavenly...

God, what were you thinking? If Killua heard you right now he'd hit you over the head another 20 times over. You looked to the floor, hoping he wouldn't see your growing blush.

After all three of you had changed into your new clothes, the hunt for the Chimera Ants began. Kite was on his own horse, while the rest of you fit on the second one due to your small frames. You were holding onto Gon's torso as he took control of the reins.

He was like a natural, his whole body moving in sync with the horse in strong determination. You trusted him, knowing that wouldn't just let you topple over. You weren't really used to horses, as they weren't typically found roaming around the jungle.

Then there was Killua, who was standing stick-straight on the horse like it was nothing.

"How do you even do that?!" You called out over the sound of galloping hooves.

"Huh, Do what? You mean this?" Killua smirked, doing a handstand.

You couldn't believe him. The boy had no fear at all.

"You're crazy," you stated, turning around to face Killua and leisurely leaning your back against Gon.

You had finally mastered balancing on the horse without having to hold onto him— but you had nowhere as near the skill Killua did.

"Maybe I am, but you love it," he teased, still upside-down. Temptingly enough, his white locks of hair were hanging upside-down too.

Slowly, you leaned forward on the palm of your hands, steadily closing in the distance between you two.

"Sure, I do. You got me there," you cooed, catching him off guard.

"Huh.." He sweatdropped, turning bright red. Killua's balance was starting to wobble.

Then, exploiting his moment of weakness, you tugged on his hair knocking him over.

Satisfied, you rested against Gon again. Thankfully the boy didn't seem to mind.

"Show off," You said, sticking your nose in the air.

"Man, that was so unfair!" Killua whined, sitting back down on the horse and dragging his hands down his face.

You crossed your arms, ready to deliver some witty comeback, when you noticed some bees in the distance that looked like they were carrying something. Squinting your eyes, you saw that they were flying in closer.

"Hey guys, look at that," you pointed out. The horses stopped as one of the bees dropped the paper in Kite's hand.

Help!!

Chimera Ant Nest, Rocky Area

Notify Hunter Association!!

An SOS? And it appeared to be written in blood.

You cast a worried glance at Gon, who looked disturbed.

"It's Ponzu..."

Ponzu...? The name wasn't familiar to you at all. That must be somebody Killua and Gon knew from before you had met them.

The bee fluttered defeatedly around you before making its landing on your ring finger. Kite made the decision to leave the horses, with a message for the Hunter Association.

Even though they ran faster on foot, it didn't take much time until you came across an unsettling scene.

Or, what was left of Ponzu.

Blood soaked the ground. Articles of ripped-up clothing scattered the dirt, and there was not even a bone in sight. The putrid smell of iron overwhelmed your nostrils.

It was fresh blood.

If you had arrived even 15 minutes earlier, maybe Gon and Killua's friend would not have so barbarically killed. You felt sick to your stomach.

'This wasn't done by a human'

"This was done by a Chimera Ant," Kite finished your thought.

The look on Gon's face scared you. Most of the time, Gon was a sweet boy on a journey to find his father. But sometimes, you could spot a festering darkness threatening to take over his very being. You knew he would never tolerate his friends getting hurt, but you couldn't help but wonder if Gon was self-sacrificing, or perhaps selfish?

"I hate to consider the possibility, but it's possible that NGL's underground rulers have already been fed to the queen. What will happen if Chimera Ants are born with their genes..?" Kite trailed off, studying one of the bullet casings in the murder scene.

An unprecedented biohazard never seen before in human history, is what that meant. The worst-case scenario had just happened.

⋯✰⋯

That wasn't the last disturbing scene the four of you came across. In front of you now were three decaying horses, each speared through the stomach by its own tree. They resembled grilled chicken and steak kebabs.

The scent was even worse than the last incident. This time, they were rotting. Killua and you both covered your noses, in an attempt to block out the stench.

"It's like a morning sacrifice," Gon stated.

You remembered what that was. Back at home, sometimes birds would impale their prey on sharp objects like branches. It wasn't a pretty sight, but it was the circle of life. What kind of monster could do this to not just one, but three 1,000 ton horses?

Your question was answered quicker than you had hoped.

"Trash. Those are mine!" The monster in question growled as he stepped foot out of the dense forest.

He looked like an overgrown bunny, with wings of a bird, thick-ass thighs, and seaweed green hair. And as for the vibe he gave off? You could safely assume he was just a stupid man-child.

"Wow. You're ugly," you deadpanned.

"You wanna say that again little brat?" He snarled, making the first move and charging right after you.

You quickly dodged his attack, but not before he came in contact with your arm. That was gonna leave a bruise.

Kite activated his aura, temporarily distracting the bunny-monster. It seemed to have noticed the change in atmosphere.

No way...was it possible? Had it already learned about the power of nen?

"Y/N, Gon, Killua... You three must deal with him yourselves. We'll be encountering more Chimera Ant soldiers like him. I won't be able to help you during combat, so if you can't defeat him, you will have to leave." Kite stepped back from the fight.

You nodded, Gon and Killua mirroring you. The three of you understood what hung in the fate of this fight.

"We told you before Kite, we're pros, not just kids!"

In sync, you all activated your nen together.

"Did you hear that bunny? I'm about to blow off those weird speedos of yours into the next dimension." You raised your hand in front of you, manipulating the wind to blow him away with every step that you advanced.

Killua was already in the air, prepared to test his thunder-bolt. In a flash of blue, dozens of lightning strikes were being zapped into the ant, immobilizing him. Gon's charged punch was enough to send him flying across the sky.

You saw his tail-puff shrink and sparkle in the distance as he was about to disappear, until something fast and unidentifiable swept him away.

Someone had been watching.

"He let his soldier do the fighting so that he could learn our abilities," Kite explained while walking towards the three of you again.

Gon and Killua looked disappointed. You hadn't even gotten a chance to use much of your powers during that fight. If you had finished it off, would that have been enough to prove yourselves?

"Are you coming?"

You looked up at Kite.

"There's no need to feel down, your attacks weren't that bad. You just need experience now. If you wish to become stronger, this is a perfect opportunity... But if you aren't prepared, you won't be able to endure it. Whether we win or lose, hell lies ahead of us." Kite finished off, looking at each one of you in the eye with a resolute stare.

You knew that. Gon and Killua knew that also.

Even so, all three of you were prepared and eager to do whatever it takes to strengthen yourselves and help Kite save NGL.

⋯✰⋯

Kite looked serene as the light of the small campfire lit up his features. He and Gon had caught some fish for dinner earlier, while Killua and you set up camp. Now, you sat brushing arms with Killua, who was sitting next to Gon, who was huddled up close to Kite. The night was quiet, except for the cicadas singing in the trees and the thoughts running through you and your friend's minds.

There was a lot to think about.

Gon and Killua hadn't even been given the time to grieve over the loss of their past acquaintance, before being hit with the hard-hitting truth that the Ants were already evolving at a nightmarish rate. Nobody knew how many had gone missing or even more so been eaten. Yet everyone knew that the death count had already surpassed comprehensible numbers. Most likely, not everybody here would make it out alive.

But, the three of you consistently have proven the odds wrong. You held onto that fact like you held onto your pendant.

It reassured you.

It was obvious that the three of you had become inseparable over the past two years.

After you met Gon and Killua at Heaven's Arena, you'd never left each other's side.

Nobody would be going home without the other, because you had all found home within each other.

"Hey, Kite? What was your dad like?" Gon asked.

Kite looked up at the boy, surprised by the sudden question. Turning his eyes to the starry night sky, he exhaled a breath of cold air.

"I didn't know him. He disappeared when I was a child."

Gon hummed, waiting for Kite to continue. He knew that feeling too. It was an icy and empty feeling, not having a father figure in your life to guide you, praise you.

"I have very few memories of him, but they've all muddled together by now. Sometimes I can't tell if they're real or if I've convinced myself they are."

"....I think Ging would thank you."

This brought Kite's attention back to Gon.

"Thank me for what?"

"Well... You've been like a sort of mentor for me ever since we met, back on Whale Island. If it weren't for you, I would never have even become a hunter. Maybe I'm just a kid, but the past month it felt like I.. like I had a dad."

Your heart ached for Gon, who had been searching this whole time for his father in everyone he met and everything he saw. Gently, you placed your hand over his and squeezed it, wishing you could be of more comfort to him. Wishing you could turn back time and bring Ging back to his home, to Gon.

Kite's eyes softened as he looked at the boy, who offered a wobbly smile.

"Ging would be proud of you," he said, ruffling Gon's spiky hair.

That night, the glimmering moonlight had brought out your most vulnerable selves. You felt a honey-like warmth grow inside of you— a new member had just been added to your family. Killua seemed content, happy that his friend was smiling. And Gon's eyes matched the twinkling stars as he looked up to Kite like he was the most wonderful thing.

It was a special night. You knew deep down that you would treasure it, for a long time to come.

⋯✰⋯

#hunter x hunter fanfiction #killua x reader #killua zoldyck x reader #hxh #hxh fanfic

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

Note

YOU WANT VIOLENCE WITH ANTLERS?! M O O S E. one of the Last Remaining Megafauna (like muskox) and downright Terrifying. I know someone who had his 450 Pickup (brand new) SHREDDED by a moose he pissed off by accident. They are Massive and can dive?? like 20m below the water to swim and eat. Both sexes have antlers, and all of them Can And Will Fuck You The Fuck Up. They also have strong Old Forest God energy, way more than any deer. Moose Centaur.

Seeing a moose in real life is my biggest dream and nightmare at the same time. They’re so big and yet so terrifying, I would want to watch one but not be noticed by it. (Un)fortunately they’re not native to my corner of the world so I shall stick to watching videos of them from time to time. Meanwhile, have a story where Jaskier is most decidedly not a fan of moose centaurs.

CW: major injury, non-sexy but still inappropriate use of axii.

Foraging was a task Jaskier happily took on to help. He was much more able to prance through the undergrowth and find the herbs, plants and roots than the others. No matter what they said, horses just weren’t designed to delicately flit through the undergrowth. The freedom it gave him to bound around, sing to his heart’s content and have a bit of Jaskier time was a bonus.

“You’ve strayed far, little deer.” A deep voice brought Jaskier back into the present, away from his fantasy world. The owner of the voice was huge, if songs had been sung about him, he would have been described as blocking out the sun. Eyes of a witcher stared down at Jaskier and he smiled. Even someone as large as a moose centaur brought zero fear, Jaskier lived with witchers, they were soft at heart, friendly despite the gruff exterior. Before he could greet the new arrival, the deep, menacing voice spoke again. “Run.”

The moose witcher charged and Jaskier barely had any time. He was smaller, was familiar with the paths and more agile. But he was also trying to outrun a witcher.

“Geralt!” He yelled at the top of him lungs. “Geralt!”

The moose centaur was gaining on him, Jaskier tried to keep less of a straight path to try and out manoeuvre his opponent. It wasn’t working though and, just as Kaer Morhen’s gates came into view, flying open, something caught Jaskier’s soft underbelly and he was lifted through the air. Pain laced through his stomach as the world tumbled before rushing to meet him with a sickening crunch. Vaguely, Jaskier was aware of a black body leaping over him, the stomping of a furious horse and Cahir’s voice demanding to know who the fuck the newcomer was. It was all becoming distant though, each breath hurt and Jaskier couldn’t focus.

More thundering hooves, hands touching him which drew a pained cry but Jaskier didn’t know who it was or what they were doing. The world was fading.

“Shit.” It was Eskel who swore, hands fluttering over Jaskier’s broken body. While he was the most proficient at healing, the moose witcher was still posing a threat. Even with Lambert and Geralt flanking Cahir, their odds of coming away unscathed were slim.

“What the fuck, Letho?” Geralt snarled, sword in hand. The rest of the yelling was lost on Eskel as he turned all his attention to Jaskier. Broken leg with the bone poking out of a delicate leg, probably a broken hind pelvis, belly sliced open and bleeding freely, there was too much to be able to treat without being in the infirmary. Even worse, he could see Jaskier slipping.

“We’re losing him!” He called, needing the others to rally round and help him.

“Do whatever it takes to keep him alive!” Geralt snapped before turning to charge at Letho.

Whatever it took. Eskel nodded to himself, he could keep Jaskier alive no matter what. That was his sole task, he would find a way. If only Jaskier would cooperate rather than let his eyes flutter shut, breathing stuttering in his chest. That just wasn’t going to do. Out of options, Eskel did the only thing he could and cast the strongest ‘axii’ he could. Under him, Jaskier fell lax as the sign took hold.

“Keep breathing and stay awake.” Two simple commands and Eskel watched as Jaskier tried to follow his new instructions. Each time it looked like he was slipping, a breath not coming or his eyes stayed shut on a long blink, Eskel cast again, pushing his will onto Jaskier, urging him to keep breathing, to stay awake.

Two bodies lowered down next to him but Eskel couldn’t afford to pay much attention. The signs were exhausting to cast and hold for such extended periods of time. A hand on his shoulder was reassurance and also bolstered his rapidly depleting reserves.

“Let me take over,” Geralt murmured. “You’ll be needed to help heal him.”

Eskel didn’t want to let go, too scared that if he did, the thready heartbeat he’d been willing Jaskier to keep going would falter and stop. However, Geralt was right, he and Vesemir would need to work together to help Jaskier and he couldn’t do that when exhausted. The moment Geralt’s will slipped next to his, Eskel could feel the power he was now lacking. As Geralt’s ‘axii’ took hold, Eskel slipped away and looked up. Cahir was racing back towards them, a sheet in his arms. Blood coated the other three, but hopefully none of it was theirs.

Between Lambert and Cahir, they managed to pull Jaskier onto the sheet. They agreed that Geralt need only walk beside them and keep up with the sign while the other three carried the makeshift sling. Lifting Jaskier, they valiantly tried to ignore the soft noise of pain and Geralt’s murmurs of “it’s okay, no pain, just breathe and stay awake.” Jaskier’s eyes tracked sightless over the sky and Geralt’s order of “watch me” was barely met, gaze sliding off him every few seconds.

By the time they made it to the infirmary, Vesemir was there. The floor was going to have to do because they couldn’t get Jaskier safely onto a table. Geralt was sweat drenched, fur slick and skin beaded with droplets.

The problem was, Jaskier was no witcher, potions and salves would do him more harm than good. They were going to have to rely on more traditional methods. However, when Vesemir touched the broken leg, Jaskier whined and kicked out weakly.

“Keep him calm,” he ordered and Geralt could only nod, casing the sign again and willing Jaskier to keep going but to also stay placid.

It was exhausting work. After a while Geralt settled on the ground, eyes on Jaskier who tried his best to stare back. Eventually, Lambert had to take over to give Geralt a break. They swapped out over and over again until Vesemir and Eskel sat back with a sigh.

“We’ve done what we can. He’s patched up but he needs to stay calm for at least two days.”

Two more days of constant axii. Geralt closed his eyes to try and gather himself and prepare for what was to come. 48 hours under axii seemed an awfully long time but the other option was to give up and lose Jaskier. This gave him an outside chance at least.

“We’ll take shifts,” Eskel said, trying to wash Jaskier’s blood from his hands. “We’ll get him through it.”

It was beyond exhausting. When Geralt wasn’t keeping Jaskier calm and alive, he was sleeping. All of the witchers had taken to staying put around Jaskier. Thankfully Cahir had been willing to take on making them food and bringing it down along with water. He also ensured Ciri stayed out of the way and kept her occupied.

The last shift fell to Geralt. He was terrified of letting Jaskier go, of finding that after so long under axii, he was no longer himself. That was almost worse than finding that without a witcher’s will, his heart would stop.

“Let go,” Eskel urged, a hand on Geralt’s flank. “Trust him.”

Slowly, almost tortuously hesitantly, Geralt let his control over Jaskier slip. He breathed a sigh of relief when Jaskier’s heart kept beating and his lungs drew in even breaths. Fully withdrawn, Geralt watched as Jaskier lay there, no different than when he had been controlled by a witcher.

Minutes ticked by and there was no change. Jaskier’s eyes drifted, unseeing. Geralt was ready to give up, to leave the room and howl his misery at the sky. He almost missed the tear that slipped across the bridge of Jaskier’s nose. It was the first sign that maybe he wasn’t as gone as feared. The tear was followed by his face creasing up, breath hitching as pain registered properly. Blindly reaching out, Jaskier cried out and Geralt caught his hand, pulled it gently to his cheek.

“I’m here. You’re okay.”

The most beautiful yet heartbreaking sound in the universe was potentially Jaskier’s reply. Broken, laced with pain but eyes finally fixed on his witcher’s face.

“Geralt?”

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #eskel #lambert #centaur au #tldr: major character injury #cw: blood #cw: blood and injuries #tldr: jaskier gets hurt by moose letho

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retirementhomecollab · 4 years

Text

☾ the witching hour

☾ decision: closed bedroom

☾ warnings: f!reader, mildly suggestive

☾ word count: 3k

You sigh, scanning the room for a second time to see if you could find anyone you know well enough to bother.

You catch sight of him.

Oh, shit, you think. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

Your “purse” – a shitty plastic cauldron you’d bought from the dollar store – rattles in your hand as you flinch, disgust twisting in your stomach. God, why does he have to be here? Just looking at him is enough to invoke that well-worn rage which has the power to possess you.

In all fairness, you’re not surprised that your ex is at this party. But that doesn’t make the sting of seeing him any less sharp.

Your legs move on their own, shuffling down the hallway and away from the main room as quickly as they can. They take you down the hallway, towards the closed door. You open it and slip inside, trying to calm your stuttering heart.

Kuroo is knelt on the floor next to you.

You yelp, jumping backwards.

“Hi,” Kuroo blinks.

“What are you doing?” You breathe, placing a hand on your chest.

“What are you doing?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

You frown at him. What right did he have, asking—oh. Oh.

This is his room. You’d slipped into his room on instinct.

Now that was embarrassing.

“Catching my breath,” you say quickly, hoping that is a convincing enough lie. Well, it’s not totally a lie; it’s a half-truth more than anything. You don’t want to make Kuroo listen to you complain about that asshole again.

“Uh huh,” Kuroo nods. He doesn’t look convinced.

“Why’re you on the floor?” You ask. It’s a weak attempt to change the conversation, but you’re genuinely curious.

“Oh, right.” He holds something up to you. It’s a black gel eyeliner, travel-sized and from a brand you don’t recognise. It’s not hard to guess that it’s the first one he found in the grocery store. “I’m trying to do my eyeliner. I sent Kenma a photo of my costume and his only comment was 'were you too scared to do the eyeliner'.”

“Wait, who are you?”

“Guess.”

You tilt your head at him, trying to get a good look. He’s got a long black jacket on, a ponytail clipped to the base of his hair, an Ouroboros tattoo on the back of his left hand…

You grin. “Nerd.”

He grins back. “I seem to remember you saying that Greed-Ling was hot,” he remarks.

“Oh, is that why you chose your costume?” You fire back.

“I wanted to be something unique,” he retorts, looking you up and down pointedly.

You look down at him with a playful glare. “Are you calling me basic, Tetsurou?”

“I would never,” he gasps, placing a hand on his chest in mock sincerity.

“Be careful,” you tease, “I’ll hex you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he chuckles, standing to full height. Admittedly, he’s much more intimidating that way.

“Don’t underestimate me,” you taunt, poking him in the chest. “I’m stronger than I look.”

“I highly doubt that,” he says, reaching forward to ruffle your hair.

“Nuh uh,” you huff, slapping his hand away. “I worked hard on this. I won’t have you messing it up.”

Kuroo scoffs, shaking his head. This sort of talk is usual for the two of you; it’s easier to tease him than let him know how much you actually like him.

“Anyway, you never told me why you’re really in my room,” he says, grin spreading across his face. “That desperate to see me, huh?”

“Ah,” you swallow, shaking your head slowly. “No, I… I saw my ex.”

The word alone is enough to shift your mood. God, why is that asshole still able to have such an effect on you?

Kuroo’s confident demeanour crumples in response, his shoulders slumping towards you. “Oh, shit. Sorry about that.”

You smile. “It’s fine. I said it was fine.” You had. Big mistake. “Besides, I know that not inviting him would’ve made a mess, so…”

“Still,” Kuroo frowns, tilting his head to the side.

God, why does he always have to look so sympathetic when it comes to this sort of thing?

You sigh, sitting yourself down on the end of his bed.

Sure, your ex had dumped you months ago. By most people’s count, you should be over it now. And in many ways, you are. You don’t miss him. You don’t have any desire to get back with him. You don’t even wish things had gone differently.

But you still can’t see him without that well-worn anger twisting in your stomach or the bitterness in the back of your throat that always bubbles up when you remember most of your friends still hang out with him.

Kuroo stands across from you with his arms crossed.

You place your “purse” at your feet, suddenly feeling very exposed.

Kuroo knows quite a bit about what happened between you and your ex. By a stroke of bad luck on his part, he’d ended up as your port of call during the breakup.

By a stroke of bad luck on your part, you’d ended up growing a tad too attracted to him than perhaps you should’ve.

But you’d never made a move. You don’t want him to think that he’s just a rebound, or that you’re using him to feel better. He’s far too good a guy for that.

“It’s Halloween,” Kuroo shrugs. “If we stage an accident, we can blame it on a poltergeist. Or maybe a demon. Or, at the very least, we can get off on manslaughter charges because we were ‘too drunk’ to realise what was happening.”

He’s trying to lighten the mood. Like he always does, when your ex is mentioned.

You roll your eyes at him. “Is that how it even work?”

He grins. “No idea. I’ve only done a class on Corporate Law. And even then, I can’t really tell you what’s legal or not.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a good student.”

“Yeah, but it’s law,” he drawls. “There’s nothing duller than law.”

You shake your head. “I can’t fault you for that one.”

A silence falls over the two of you. You can hear the faint din of the party in the living room, the occasional raucous laughter and the bubble of conversation. Some part of you knows that you should be out there, mingling, having a drink, laughing along with everybody else.

But you’d much rather stay here, with Kuroo.

A question itches at the back of your mind. It’s one you’d rather not know the answer to, but it’s heavy enough to weigh on your conscience.

“How’d your date go the other week?” You ask, instantly regretting it. “You never texted me about it.”

“Ah…” Kuroo clears his throat, looking at the ground. “It didn’t work out.”

“Oh…” You say quietly. “I’m sorry.”

You do feel bad for him. But you feel worse about the relief flooding through your chest.

He doesn’t look too disappointed. Granted, you don’t know how much of that is because you want him to be not-disappointed.

“It’s fine,” Kuroo shrugs. “I mainly went on it to placate Bokuto.”

You frown at that. “Huh?”

“He thinks I should be going on more dates,” he grins. “Apparently, moping around doesn’t suit me.”

“Moping around?” You ask.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head. He’s caught his own slip up before you could exploit it.

Kuroo says nothing more. The silence makes you uncomfortable; it’s not that you’re not used to the odd silence or two when it comes to Kuroo, but more the context. He’s always been notoriously tight-lipped about his love life, and you’ve never been brave enough to dig. There’s only one answer that you want to hear; but you’re certain you won’t hear it. No matter how much he flirts and teases.

You bite the inside of your cheek, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He twirls the eyeliner in his fingers, the metal casing catching the light. Oh, that’s right.

“Let me do it,” you say, before you’ve even processed the idea.

“Huh?” Kuroo looks up, raising an eyebrow at you.

This is your chance to back out. You can pretend you never said it, pretend you didn’t have that bizarre thought.

You hold out your hand expectantly. “Your eyeliner. Let me do it.”

He blinks at you for a moment, baffled. “You sure?”

“You’ll poke your eye out,” you say. “I know you’re shit when it comes to detail works.”

“Excuse me?” He scoffs. “I’ll have you know that I’m excellent at titrations.”

You hold your hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright… but if you go blind, don’t come crying to me about it.”

“Fine, fine,” he chuckles, dropping the eyeliner into your outstretched hand. “But you have to do it standing up.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Ah, but those are the stipulations—”

“On the bed,” you command. “Now.”

Oh. Whoops.

Kuroo’s face flushes a deep red. You realise the implications of your words too late.

But he sits himself on the bed, a good distance away from you.

You sigh, standing up and moving in front of him.

He’s just sitting there, and yet he’s frustratingly good-looking. He’s got no right, in your opinion. Especially when he doesn’t even bother to attend to his hair.

You bring one hand to his chin, tilting his face upwards to give you better access to his eyes. Big mistake.

He’s looking up at you expectantly with those golden-brown eyes of his, cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted.

You try to ignore it, bringing the tip of the eyeliner to his waterline. You follow the curve of his eye gently, dragging the eyeliner along with quick, gentle strokes.

He’s looking at you still. Maybe you’d be flattered, or nervous, or maybe even excited. But his eyes keep fluttering shut, disrupting your progress.

“Look up,” you swallow nervously.

“One moment,” he mumbles, shifting to take his jacket off.

That just makes things worse – now his frustratingly muscular arms are in view. He doesn’t show them off often, but you’re grateful for any chance you get to admire them.

It’s frustrating, really; Kuroo had never really been hot in high school. Sure, he’d been a cut above the rest, but hormonal teenage boys weren’t exactly tough competition.

Besides, you hadn’t really gotten to know him until university. It just so happened that you were going to the same place, and you’d reached out to each other more because you didn’t want to be alone and less because you were particularly close.

That being said, you’d become close quite quickly. Quickly enough to make you regret spending all those years of high school specifically avoiding boys. Most of them probably weren’t worth your time, but you had a feeling Kuroo would’ve been.

“Your lipstick looks nice.”

The compliment almost makes you stab him in the eye.

“Thanks,” you blush. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to pull it off.”

“There’s very little you can’t pull off,” he chuckles.

Your blush deepens, trying to stop your mind from wandering too far. Although you’d done a terrible job at that so far.

“You can’t just say things like that,” you pout. “You might give me the wrong idea.”

You never know if you should put distance between the two of you. Sometimes it feels like you’re too close, like no matter what, you’ll get hurt. Kuroo’s never mentioned being into anyone else, but that doesn’t rule out the possibility. He’s been on a date, after all. Even if it didn’t go particularly well.

“What if… it wasn’t the wrong idea?”

You freeze. “What?”

“What if… whatever you’re thinking… isn’t incorrect?” He says, staring at you boldly.

“What are you saying?”

Your heart hammers in your chest, a quick but steady rhythm thrumming through your body. The logical conclusion is obvious. But you don’t want to hope, just in case.

“What if the reason the date didn’t work out is because I realised that I’d much rather be spending time with you?”

The world stops around you.

Did he really just say that? Did he mean it?

His gaze is so heavy, so intense. You’ve caught him staring at you before; sometimes fondly enough to make you wonder, to make you hope.

But this? This is new. This is exciting.

You cup his face with both hands, eyeliner long forgotten as it clatters on the floor.

“Tetsu…” You murmur.

You’ve got no idea what’s happening. But you like it.

He holds your waist firmly, tilting his face upwards.

You’re not sure who moved first.

But his lips are on yours, hot and firm and hungry. You lean into it, threading your hands in his hair. His hands tighten on your waist, a soft moan rumbling from the back of his throat. You sigh in response, warmth coursing through your body.

God, you need this.

His hands move down from your waist to your hips, tugging you towards him.

You half-collapse against him, balancing yourself by propping a knee either side of his lap.

Are you really going to… right now? With Kuroo? For the first time? But you haven’t even been on a date yet. You haven’t even told him how you feel – not that it really matters.

You know you want this.

You know you want him.

He moans again, the sound making your shiver. He wants this too.

Have you really been so blind? The way he’s kissing you, the way he’s holding you, the way he–

A knock on the door.

You shoot to your feet, stepping back from him.

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment, both of you wide-eyed and owlish.

Another knock breaks through the silence.

“What?” Kuroo shouts. He sounds just as frustrated as you are.

“What are you doing in there?” Someone calls back.

It sounds like Iwaizumi. He’s perhaps one of the last people you’d want walking in on you like this. But at least he’s one of the few people at this party who’d actually knock instead of just barging in. God forbid someone like Atsumu catching the two of you like this.

“None of your business,” Kuroo growls. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to know when you’re going to come and join the land of the living.”

The two of you exchange a glance. How long has it been? You’ve honestly lost track.

“Soon,” Kuroo says. “Just… give me a minute.”

The sound of footsteps fades away. Kuroo lolls his head back, sighing.

“Is it okay if we take a raincheck?” He asks, smirking at you.

You roll your eyes, standing up. “I’m not that desperate.”

“Oh?” He grins sitting forward. “Is that so? That’s not the impression I got when you—”

You lean down and kiss him firmly. His yelp is muffled by your lips, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he reaches a hand up to cup the back of your head.

You stand up straight and flick him on the forehead. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Fine,” he sighs, standing up and ambling towards the door.

He grins at you from over his shoulder, his chin smeared with an embarrassing amount of black lipstick.

“Wait!” You grab his wrist, pulling him back.

“What?” He blinks, turning to look at you.

You point at the black smeared all over his chin. “Maybe you should deal with that.”

Kuroo frowns, turning to look at himself in the mirror. “Oh,” he blinks. “Right.”

He lifts his wrist to wipe it away. It doesn’t work very well.

You lower yourself to your knees, plopping your “purse” in front of you, digging around in it for a second. The makeup wipes are easy to find, squishy and rectangular as they are. You’d primarily brought them for Hiromi – just in case she needed to de-zombify herself before engaging in certain scandalous activities.

You pull out a single wipe and hold it up to Kuroo. He takes it from you and sinks to the ground, long legs sticking out in awkward directions.

“Use one of these,” you giggle.

He doesn’t need further instruction, peering at himself closely as he vigorously rubs the wipe all over his chin. You’ll tell him not to be so rough with his skin later down the line.

“You did a good job on the eyeliner,” Kuroo says. He sounds a little too surprised by that fact for your liking.

“And you messed up my lipstick,” you grumble, fetching your own wipe and dabbing it around your mouth. You can’t be as rough as him; you have foundation to account for and having half of it missing from the lower half of your face is arguably just as suspicious as smeared lipstick.

“You didn’t seem to mind,” he grins.

You nudge him in the chest with your elbow, eliciting an “oof!”

“Don’t push your luck,” you murmur, biting back a smile.

The two of you attend to your respective cosmetic predicaments. It’s a comfortable silence, one where neither of you have to worry about hiding anything.

It’s even nicer than you could’ve imagined.

“Hey, so…” Kuroo clears his throat, a touch of pink to his cheeks. “What are you doing next Tuesday?”

His bravado is almost entirely gone, dissipated into the dark of the night.

“Nothing,” you smirk. “Why?”

“No reason,” he grins.

You elbow him sharply. Stupid jerk.

“I’m kidding,” he cackles, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

You have half a mind to fight, but what you really want to do is give in. He’s warm, and you rather like being this close to him.

“How does dinner sound?” His breath tickles against your ear as he speaks in a tone deeper than usual.

You smile, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Can’t wait.”

Pick a different room: > Go to the open bedroom. > Go to the balcony. > Go to the kitchen. > Go to the hallway. > Go to the bathroom. > Go to the living room.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #the witching hour

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incorrectsdkquotes · 3 years

Text

Youtuber AU (warning: some spoilers)

(requested by @ladyofthelake13)

AU in which all (or most) of our favorite characters make a living as famous/semi-famous Youtubers/vloggers.

Yuya is a True Crime vlogger a la Buzzfeed Unsolved. Each week she researches old crimes and cold cases, adding in her own thoughts on the case and her thoughts on who really committed them. She started out the channel first as an extra credit project when she was still in pre-law but grew so popular that she started creating videos full time. She earns most of her money through merchandizing rights and by creating her own brand. Every now and then she delves into supernatural-type videos with her adopted sister Sakuya as co-host. Her adopted brother Nozomu helps out behind the scenes with editing videos and doing some camera work. One of the more popular aspects of her channel is when she brings her friends, other popular Youtubers, in as guests. There are even shipping wars among her followers on who she has the most chemistry with.

Benitora is a travel vlogger who travels all around the country trying out different local and specialized food/snacks, showing off various features in the geography and chatting with friendly locals. His prestigious family only allows his ‘frivolities’ under the excuse that he’s going out and building goodwill with the populace he will eventually be in charge of. Tora’s father is the leader of the country, something that Tora himself tries to keep quiet about. To finance his travels, other than the Patreon page he set up, Tora made a deal with his father Ieyasu: he can keep up a steady and consistent view count Tora can keep making his videos. As soon as viewership drops below a certain amount, he has to stop and resume his training to take over leadership. So far he’s been able to keep up his end of the bargain, but the looming future ahead of him is something that he’s never quite able to forget.

Okuni is a beauty vlogger who has inside access to some of the newest products about to hit the market. She regularly reviews the new and upcoming products, shares tutorials for both beginners and those who’ve been using makeup for a while on how to apply the perfect foundation, get expert wingtips, and how to match their particular color pallet for their skin tone. Okuni will bring in her friends, both women and men, to give them makeovers as well as to have them compete in different makeup challenges. So far, the most popular video on her channel is from when she let Hotaru and Shinrei give each other makeovers.

Yukimura’s channel comes across as half family drama and shenanigans and half prank channel. Saizo is largely his go-to camera man, but other members of his family take turns as well, lending to some...interesting footage that almost always ends up in the videos released to the public. Every now and then Yukimura will drop his own political takes into conversation, only to immediately start talking about something else as a distraction. There are rumors that he’s going to be running for public office as a bid to overthrow the current political power. There are also others who discount this theory stating that Yukimura’s not serious enough for the role and actually doesn’t have any interest in politics beyond his ‘hot takes.’ It’s goofy, fun-loving Yukimura, there’s no way. Yukimura himself loves to obfuscate this even further by going on regular shopping trips where he shows off the newest gifts he’s planning to get for his family...usually specifically for whoever’s holding the camera at the time, leading to a lot of back and forth with the cameraperson on exactly why they deserve these gifts in the first place.

Sasuke’s channel is largely an unboxing channel for various toys and other gadgets, usually ones he gets from Yukimura. He’ll also review the items based on how engaging or mentally stimulating he finds them. When Sasuke isn’t reviewing items he’s usually filming himself out in the woods exploring with his childhood friend Kotaro. The two friends run a side vlog documenting skateboarding, biking, and rollerblading tricks and stunts or hiking and camping trips they go on together. A popular series of videos the two friends have that has boosted their viewership considerably involves them showing off various sword stunts and tricks. Every now and then Benitora sneaks his way onto Sasuke’s channel, sharing travel tips and stories. Despite Sasuke repeatedly mentioning how annoying he finds the older man, viewers can’t help but notice that Tora’s never actually cut out of any videos he appears in. Every now and then Sasuke will post gaming videos that he plays with Kotaro and occasionally Tora; despite several requests, he insists he’s not a gaming channel.

Bontenmaru’s channel is almost exclusively dedicated to bodybuilding and workout techniques. Usually these videos include him trying to get his friends involved in working out or acting as their personal trainer. Some of his friends are more receptive to this than others. Whenever a new workout ‘challenge’ comes out, Bon will immediately make a video about it, either criticizing the challenge or pointing out the different ways that the challenge helps develop certain muscle groups. When he’s not making workout and bodybuilding videos, Bon can be found filming drunk hangouts with his friends. There’s a small subsection of his videos dedicated to reviewing workout clothes while trying to promote his own personal brand or workout clothing and accessories.

Akira’s videos are full of DIY tips and tricks as well as testing to see if other DIY videos hold up. More often than not the DIY videos he reviews are hilariously wrong, something he goes out of his way to prove and mock. When he’s not reviewing DIYs, he’s posting Let’s Plays to his channel. Akira is also a popular Twitch streamer, usually co-opting his friends into playing either Team Death Matches or pvps together. He likes to consider himself a cool and collected gamer, which admittedly he is to a degree. Whenever he has to be on the same team as certain ‘friends’ of his, though (Benitora, Hotaru and Akari, namely) he tends to lose his cool. If his friends annoy him too much, though, he’ll just bring them on as guests to try out the end results of his DIY videos.

Hotaru’s channel is about as chaotic and disfunctional as the man himself. His videos are almost completely unedited, excepting for a few special effects for when his brother appears on screen. He tends to get stuck with the label of ‘Travel Vlogger’ flor lack of a better description for his videos, which usually document the various places he finds himself whenever he gets lost. It’s become an in-joke and even a betting pool among his followers on where he’ll end up next with his videos. If he’s not out getting lost, he’s posting videos about random things that he’ll find interesting--various stray cats, an interesting bug he found, or even a few attempted prank videos on his brother Shinrei. For those who don’t get enough humor out of his videos, Hotaru’s twitter account is open and well documented, usually with various out of context posts or sporadic updates on where he is. He is well recognized on the Internet, if by name only, as a living cryptid.

Akari is well known as an influencer, posting her own beauty tips and tricks, local restaurant reviews, and even some humorous videos of her friends doing silly, stupid, and humiliating videos as a result of some kind of blackmail that she has on them. Every now and then her videos turn educational when she offers medical advice on how to treat certain wounds and injuries, usually because one of her dumb friends has that specific injury that she demonstrates with. Akari also has certain Opinions on a certain pharmaceutical company that she absolutely in no way has any connections with. She certainly never worked there at one point, and you can’t prove that she ever did.

Kyoshiro’s mostly known for his editing skills, being the go-to editor for his girlfriend’s sister Yuya’s channel. He has a few tutorials on how to edit videos together, though there are a few videos that are light skits that he does with his girlfriend Sakuya. He did a series at one point that was part tea-review and part gushing about Sakuya. He tries to stay out of the spotlight for the most part, but he’s not opposed to appearing on Yuya’s channel as a guest host...as long as Kyo’s not also guest hosting at the same time. He has a unique relationship with Kyo, where sometimes they appear to be best friends and in other videos as mortal enemies. No one’s quite sure what the relationship is between them, though there have been a few rumors floating around that the two are siblings. These rumors have yet to be acknowledged either way, however.

Kyo’s channel isn’t actually run by him. Every video that appears on his channel is something that one of his friends made and then uploaded for him. These videos usually take the form of boasting Kyo’s skills (usually made by Akira or Akari) or as group hangouts with his friend group. There are a few that were made by Yuya that are typically along the lines of “look what this guy did now” that are pretty popular and technically give Kyo the title of ‘influencer.’ Kyo is also known on the Internet as a type of cryptid, though not to the levels of Hotaru. Instead, he’s known as the kind of person you want to emulate, who men either hate or want to be like and who several women wish to date. There’s some speculation that Kyo may already be in a relationship with someone (typically Yuya, though she refuses to say anything about the subject). There’s some talk that there may be open warrants out for his arrest, but so far nothing about his alleged crimes or the man’s whereabouts has come to light.

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myheartrevealedocs · 4 years

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Untouchable Ch 25: Minimal Loss (S4E3)

[TW!!] Warnings: (This is the same content as found in the episode, so if you’ve seen it, don’t worry too much, but I find this one to deal with multiple sensitive topics at once, and I don’t gloss over it all, like I often do, so be careful) mentions of rape and pedophilia, depictions of torture, cults, murder-suicide

Ch 24 | Ch 26

A/N: Okay, so I’m four days late on posting this, but this is quite possibly the longest chapter I’ve posted, so hopefully that makes up for it?

~ ~ ~

Lydia’s family stayed for about a week, attached to Lydia at the hip the whole time. She loved her sister dearly and was glad to have some time with her father, but she could barely breathe by the time she was taking them to the airport. As she explained to Spencer, she was merely frustrated they didn’t give her any heads up.

Luckily, they left before her teaching schedule came back into full swing at the university. It was nice to get back into her routine and see some of her students and coworkers who were worried about her. She didn’t realize how close she’d gotten to the people there until the letters, phone calls, emails, and gifts started flooding in, telling her to take it easy and get back soon.

And then, in October, Hotch finally gave her a call for a case.

It was small, but she wanted to get out of her apartment so bad.

Hotch was sending Lydia and Prentiss to Colorado where there was a claim against a separation church leader raping young girls.

Spencer wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear Lydia was leaving, but the whole thing was fairly straight-forward: interview the kids, determine what they could about the cult itself, then see if there was reason to shut them down. Hotch knew that there wasn’t going to be any extraneous activity, so it was a perfect start to reintroducing Lydia to the field. Not to mention, she was very perceptive and a master manipulator.

“Tell us about the 911 call,” she said as she flipped through a file on the people of the church.

Emily was in the front seat with Nancy Lunde, from Child Protective Services. She was the head of the case and had the most prior knowledge on the group itself. “I believe the ‘he’ that they referred to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus.”

“Benjamin Cyrus,” Lydia mumbled, flipping to his page. “No criminal record. No record at all, really. I doubt it’s a real name. Correct me if I’m wrong, Emily, but Cyrus is a biblical name. A monarch. I’m seeing some subtle messages in there.”

“It translates to ‘sun’ in persian,” Emily agreed. “What else do you know about him?”

Lunde shook her head. “It’s rumored that he’s practicing polygamy and forced marriages,” she said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Any idea who the caller is?”

“Uh, Jessica Evanson is the one who the age fits, but… we can’t be sure. So I negotiated interviews with all the children. It wasn’t easy.”

“Well, considering their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI,” Emily explained and Lydia got to work on their covers. She took their guns, holsters, and badges, hiding them in the door of the car and handed Emily two fake IDs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.”

The Bureau had made them brand new drivers licences and CPS badges with Colorado addresses to complete their cover stories.

All too soon, they were approaching the front gate. The sign read ‘Liberty Church Ranch’ with a large cross beside it.

It was hot outside and Lydia could feel the dust coating her nose and throat as she exited the car, approaching a set of stairs leading up to the church.

“I’m looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus?” Lunde called to a figure on the steps.

“You found him.”

Cyrus wore a light flannel and jeans, with reading glasses perched on his nose and a book in his lap. Lydia had to hold herself back from calling him out on framing the scene. Oh, look how kind and relaxed we are. Our leader sits outside and reads books all day blahblahblahbl-

Open mind, Lydia.

“I’m Nancy Lunde. We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation.”

He got up and approached the three of them. “‘Savages they call us. ‘Cause our manners differ from theirs.’”

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus,” the red-headed woman huffed.

“Actually, that’s Benjamin Franklin,” he sneered.

Nancy ignored this, and began introducing them. “Emily Prentiss, Lydia Ambers. They’re child victim interview experts.”

“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be the need to invent a job called child victim interview expert?” Cyrus wondered.

“We wish we didn’t have to be here,” Emily said.

“So do we. But you are welcome, nonetheless. The children are in the school as I indicated.”

“Thank you.”

Lydia nodded and followed Emily off to the school building.

~ ~ ~

Jessica Evanson was not the kid they were looking for. Lydia could tell the moment she walked into the interview room. She was completely calm, the perfect child. Her hair was neatly brushed back, her polo shirt well ironed, and her hands folded neatly in front of her.

Her mother, Kathy, stood beside her, petting her hair gently, as if to reassure her, but Jessica clearly didn’t need it. She wasn’t intimidated by their presence at all.

“We go to school. We do our chores. And we treat ourselves and each other with the respect God demands.”

Emily sat across from her, conducting the interview, and Lydia stood beside her.

“But you’ve never been off of the ranch?” Emily asked.

“I brought Jessie here when she was two,” Kathy explained.

Jessica clearly was not having any of this. “You’ve talked to lots of children in your work. Tell me, are their lives somehow better than ours?”

“We devote ourselves to God,” Kathy continued. “That doesn’t mean we’re not devoted to our children.”

“We are not here because of your religious beliefs,” Emily reasoned.

“Why are you here?” Jessica demanded.

She was starting to become hostile. She grew up in a cult that taught her to hate outsiders, so Lydia couldn’t blame her for her behavior. But her mother was clearly a peacemaker, so where did she learn it from? It wasn’t defiance from her family, because that would put her against the group, not for it.

“We received a phone call alleging that an adult male member of your church was having inappropriate relations with the younger women here.”

“You’re talking about Cyrus,” she responded, almost immediately.

“What makes you say that?” Emily asked.

Her mother immediately became defensive, trying to get her daughter to be quiet, but Jessica was still determined to make a point.

“Is it inappropriate for a husband to share a bed with his wife?”

Lydia’s eyes shot open. His what?

“You are married to Cyrus?” Emily spoke slowly, as if worried that the question would escalate the situation, but Jessica stayed proper in stance, if not in tongue.

“Yes. Cyrus is my husband and a prophet. It’s an honor to bear his children.”

It took everything in Lydia not to look disgusted by the thought and keep the interview going. “Jessica, you aren’t old enough to get married without parental consent.”

Emily nodded at the mother. “She gave consent.”

Before anyone could continue, a loud sound from outside got their attention. There was some yelling and suddenly Cyrus and a few other men were rushing in, machine guns in hand.

Lydia let her shock show on her face. Not just that they had the weapons, but that they would carry them around a school where CPS workers were present.

“Get up!” Cyrus demanded, turning on her and Emily. “Get up! Move!”

On the other side of the room, Nancy was entertaining the other kids. “What’s going on?” she asked softly.

“We just got a very strange phone call from a news reporter,” Cyrus began and a man walked around Emily and started to pat her down for weapons.

They were both unarmed, but Lydia was starting to regret that. These men were clearly threatened by their presence. What the hell had happened?

Another man walked around to check her and unceremoniously smacked her in the side, causing her to wince involuntarily. Cyrus clearly noticed this, but said nothing, continuing on with his point.

“Is there anything you want to tell me? About a raid, maybe?”

She and Emily exchanged a concerned look. A raid? They weren’t prepared for that. They had checked in with the state before joining child services to the ranch, there shouldn’t have been a raid on this church.

Luckily for them, Cyrus took their concern for fear and nodded. “They don’t know,” he determined. “Bring them along.”

A man grabbed Lydia’s arm and dragged her across the room, where another armed man was opening a hatch in the wall. A tunnel. A few guards went first, then they started ushering the people in. Women with their kids, Nancy, Emily, and Lydia all surrounded by machine guns, leaping into a dark hole underneath the church.

The passage underneath the buildings was too thin to walk side by side, so the guards let them go on by themselves.

“What’s going on?” Nancy whispered to the two FBI members ahead of her.

“We’re not sure yet,” Emily hissed. “Just stay calm.”

As they reached a large opening directly underneath the chapel, they could hear gunfire from above ground.

Prentiss pulled Lydia aside, trying to get as far away from the crowd as possible. “If this escalates, Cyrus is going to put this place on lockdown. The FBI is going to be in charge of negotiations as long as we’re inside. Do you know the Critical Incident Response Group handbook?”

Lydia shook her head quickly. God, it would be helpful if Spencer were here. He probably knew that book front and back. Lydia didn’t know what she was doing.

“Okay.” Emily fumbled, trying to determine what was important for Lydia to know before they had to revert back to their covers. “CIRG will bug all the windows and anything else they can get to. So, anything you need them to know, find a way to say it out loud. Keep the inside members talking. We won’t be able to know what the team already knows so tell them everything. If there are blinds on a window, they might be blocking the sound, so try and get them out of the way before speaking.”

“Best hope it doesn’t come to that,” Lydia argued, but the sound of the gunfire overhead was diminishing her hopes of getting out any time soon. She just hoped Spencer didn’t know what was going on.

At the sound of Cyrus’s voice, the two girls stepped away from one another, trying to blend in with the crowd.

“Alright! Move quietly! Quickly, go to the left! Everybody stay together!” he ordered, pushing his way through the room. “Children, listen to your parents. Have faith.”

“Where did these guns come from?” Emily whispered hurriedly and Lydia glanced around her to see what she was looking at.

Wooden crates lined the walls, each labelled as bullets or magazines. Leaning into the corners were more machine guns. Buckets of them.

“I thought Garcia checked with the state police to see if they were involved in…” Lydia trailed off, not sure how to frame the inquiry, but luckily Emily was on the same page.

“Someone lied to us. You don’t just lose track of these weapons, not when you’re already watching this group.”

“At least the raid is unrelated to the FBI,” Lydia reasoned. “Our cover is still intact. But you’re right… someone from the Colorado government just ruined their career. Once we’re back in Quantico, Hotch is going to lose his shit.”

Lunde approached the two of them once more. “This is ridiculous,” she sneered.

“It’s okay,” Emily tried again. “Just calm down.”

Cyrus continued to reassure his followers, telling them that God would look out for them as long as they stayed calm.

Once he had disappeared, Nancy was arguing with them once more. “It’s the state police. I’m an officer of the state.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do right now.”

“I can talk to him.”

“No!” Emily rushed after her but Nancy was already halfway through the crowd of people. “You can’t. It’s dangerous. Nancy, stop!”

The woman rushed out of the room and before the two of them could follow, one of the guards blocked their way. The other went after Nancy, but she was booking it back up to the ground level of the chapel.

Shit. This was starting to look… bad.

She stood next to Emily at the front of the group, anxiously waiting for the battle to cease, but the hail of bullets above them never slowed. After a minute or two, Cyrus came stumbling back down the stairs.

“Do not fear! We are on the side of the righteous.”

Behind him was the guard that went after Nancy, but no Nancy herself.

“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked him.

“It wasn’t us.”

“What?!” Lydia screeched, then quickly lowered her voice, seeing the attention she had attracted. “You can’t shoot it out with the cops! You have children here!”

“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus argued back.

Emily was clearly distraught watching him reload his gun, then take off with the rest of the men to the roof.

“The BAU is coming,” she whispered.

~ ~ ~

“Reid!”

JJ’s voice reached Spencer from the center of the bullpen and he looked up from his email curiously. “Hm?”

Her eyes were on the TV she was in the process of starting up and he noticed that Morgan was also looking up at it intently. It lit up in the middle of a news report.

“...a routine questions and answers meeting by Colorado child services-”

Colorado… that’s where Lydia and Prentiss were…

“-has turned into a violent and deadly standoff between Colorado authorities and a fringe religious group known as the Separtarian Sect.”

Spencer jumped up, joining Morgan and JJ in the middle of the room, his mind still not coming to terms with what was happening.

“JJ,” Morgan breathed, standing up, his eyes not leaving the TV, “That’s not the ranch where Prentiss and Ambers-”

“They’re still inside,” she said, softly.

Spencer’s legs almost gave out underneath him.

“HOTCH!” Morgan screamed.

The unit chief was rushing out a moment later to see what was going on, but Spencer didn’t pay him any attention. His eyes were glued to the screen in front of him. Where’s Lydia? Where’s Lydia? Where’s Lydia???

“...While no one knows for sure how many people are inside, it is believed that at least three of the child service members are still trapped within the compound.”

~ ~ ~

Spencer sat on the couch of the jet, his head in his hands, listening intently to the ongoing news report on Morgan’s laptop.

“...turned deadly when the Colorado state police officers tried to serve a warrant. Colorado Attorney General Jim Wells says the reclusive cult has been the subject of a 6-month weapons investigation.”

“Six months,” Morgan repeated. “We didn’t check?”

“No. We checked,” JJ argued. “I had ATF call Wells. He told ATF there were no pending state investigations. He lied.”

“Why?” Rossi demanded.

“Wells is challenging the governor in the next election. He thought that ATF was about to poach his big election-launching weapons bust,” JJ explained. “Now, it’s clear he didn’t know there were FBI agents there. He just thought the best time to serve a state warrant was when the kids were safe inside the school being interviewed.”

“Agent,” Spencer corrected quietly, his head finally lifting from his own grasp.

“What was that?” JJ asked.

“There aren’t ‘FBI agents’ in there. There’s only one.”

It seemed to slip everyone’s mind that Lydia wasn’t an agent. They looked around nervously, noticing the edge in Spencer’s voice as he corrected them. Hotch was the first one to speak up.

“Ambers may not be an agent, but she’s not a civilian, Reid. She can look out for herself.”

“The FBI only worries about their own,” Spencer hissed.

“She is one of our own,” Morgan fired back. “We’re going to get her out of there, just like Prentiss.”

“Just like all of the hostages,” Hotch continued.

Not wanting to argue more, Spencer nodded at him, then jumped up from his seat and walked to the back of the plane, unable to listen to any more. The media wouldn’t be able to tell him what he wanted to know, anyway.

“Hey, Spence,” JJ called as she approached him at the refreshment table. “I know you’re worried about Lydia, but we need your help on this case. You gotta stay focused, okay?”

“JJ, she’s in the middle of a deadly standoff and she’s still recovering from getting shot last May. Injured tissue takes months to repair itself and it’s going to take even longer for her to regain abdominal strength.”

“I’m sure that she’s safe inside the church with the other hostages.”

“Even if that’s true, I-” He shook his head. “I always seem to be away from her when she needs me most. When that bomb went off in Annandale, when Sonia had a stroke, when Frank got her… Why does it always feel like I can’t reach her?”

JJ sighed, contemplating his question. “I don’t know, Spence. I wish I did.”

~ ~ ~

Once the police had fallen back, Cyrus brought the two of them into a seperate room. Clearly he wasn’t sure how to deal with outsiders being barricaded in with his people. As him and his men tried to assess the damage done to the church and get people back inside, Emily was prepping Lydia for the worst.

“Don’t antagonize them,” she tried to reason. “I know you’re not a fan, but we need to know everything we can. They won’t tell you anything if they don’t think they can trust you.”

“There are two ways to find things out, Em.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was sprinkled with annoyance. Emily knew that Lydia tended to be very blunt. She didn’t need to worry about Cyrus killing Lydia when she was supposed to be helping the team get these people out.

“You keep Cyrus’s favor. But someone here doesn’t believe him, or else we wouldn’t have gotten that phone call. They’re going to seek us out.”

It wasn’t a terrible plan, she realized. One of them learn from the higher ups, the other speak to the underdogs. “You want to play two different sides?”

Lydia nodded. “For the time being.”

“Okay. That means we have to distance ourselves, though. Act unfamiliar with one another.”

“Brief me faster, then.”

She was on top of it from that point on. “The hostage negotiator’s job is to slowly get the women and children out. They want as few innocent people inside when they raid. But if they think anyone inside is in danger, they’ll come in, no matter what. We can speak to them through the mics on the windows, but they have no way of talking to us. So if we need to know anything, they’ll tell us through other means. Look out for signs from them. They’ll be listening to our every word…”

~ ~ ~

Hotch had put Rossi in charge of being the lead negotiator, in the hopes that he was both objective enough to not be blinded by his care for Prentiss and Ambers, but also knew them well enough to predict how they’d react while still inside.

Frankly, Spencer wasn’t sure he could do either. He hoped that Lydia would play it safe, but a part of him knew that she was just too impulsive.

The entire team gathered around as Rossi made his first call to the church, waiting to find out what happened to their friends.

“You killed my mommy and daddy. Are you going to kill me too?”

A kid. A little girl had answered the phone. It wasn’t surprising that Cyrus had set something like this up, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

“No one is going to kill you, honey,” Rossi said calmly.

Then, there was a shift. A new voice. “This is Benjamin Cyrus. Who am I talking to?”

“David Rossi. I’m an FBI agent. We sent the state police away. There’s just us and the local sheriff. All we wanna do is resolve this before anyone else gets hurt.”

“Then leave us alone.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Benjamin. One of the police bled out on the way to the hospital. So let’s just stop this before things get worse. Please, just put down your guns and come out.”

“We’re believers, Dave. We believe God says what he means and means what he says. His laws don’t depend on what state you live in.”

“I have no issue with your beliefs.”

“You don’t, but the state does.”

This was taking too long. Spencer needed to make sure they were okay. He needed to make sure Lydia was okay.

“I can’t answer for other people.”

“Oh, God will answer for everyone in the final battle I’ve foreseen.”

“That’s why I’m here. To make sure that this is not that battle.”

“We shall see.”

“Now, the three child service workers...”

“One of them is dead.”

Everyone’s heads shot up. Dead. Dead…

“It wasn’t us.”

Rossi leaned away from the phone, trying to take in a deep breath before continuing. “I need a name to inform the family.”

“Her name was Nancy Lunde.”

The relief between them was almost a solid entity, letting their eyelids hang heavy as they realized neither of their friends had died. But someone had.

“Okay. Now, please, Benjamin, send out your wounded. I promise you they’ll be well taken care of.”

“With enough supplies we can tend to our own.”

“Okay. I need a few hours to put it together. I’ll bring them up myself at first light.”

With news that supplies was coming, Cyrus hung up the phone and the rest of the team was left to ponder what to do now.

~ ~ ~

Lydia and Emily didn’t know much about their situation until the next morning. Everyone was assembled in the chapel to pray. Cyrus had sent the two of them to the end of a row of chairs, trapped in by the wall. Not that there was any point in running anyway. There were men at all exits, guns at the ready.

A soft knocking came from the church entrance and to Lydia’s surprise, Cyrus opened the door. It was difficult to see at first, with all the armed men surrounding him, but after a moment of discussion, Lydia was able to make out Rossi walking through the front door, a box of bandages in his arms.

Despite everything Emily had told her, Lydia could feel a twist in her heart. The BAU was right outside. Spencer was here.

Dear lord, he was never going to let her leave their apartment again.

Lydia reminded herself to steady her facial expressions. Cyrus had no suspicions of their connection to the FBI yet and she wasn’t about to give him any. She silently prayed that whatever Rossi was bringing in was bugged, so that she wouldn’t have to make sure all the important dialogue happened by a window.

They took his supplies, patted him down, and then Cyrus walked him down the center isle. Lydia couldn’t make out much of their conversation, but it seemed like Rossi was trying to convince Cyrus to let some people go.

Their discussion took all of about 30 seconds, then Cyrus was ushering him back out the door. With Rossi gone, Cyrus started giving instructions to his right hand man, Cole, then indicated for Lydia and Emily to get up.

The two of them exchanged a look before standing and walking to the back of the chapel.

“We’re going to have communion,” Cyrus informed them. “Feel free to stand and watch for the time being.”

They nodded politely, noticing Cole at the front with a jug of wine and stacks of plastic cups. A few of the men went around, passing them out while Cyrus poured each person a sip of wine.

“We are celebrating,” he announced. “Everyone drinks. Everyone rejoices. Because today we are one day closer to being with Him.”

“Look at Jessica’s body language,” Emily whispered. “The way she looks at him.”

Lydia nodded. “She literally worships him. There’s no way she made that 911 call.”

“Trust in God with all your heart. Lean not on your own understandings. Trust in mine.”

As Cyrus kept talking, Kathy stood up and walked over to the row her daughter was sitting in, leaning over her and speaking quietly. Jessica tried multiple times to nod and turn her attention back to Cyrus, but her mother kept talking.

“Look at how she comes between Cyrus and her daughter,” Emily continued. “She’s inserted herself between them.”

“Acknowledge Him in all things and He will guide your way. Drink to acknowledge him and I will guide our way.”

Everyone lifted their cups together and followed Cyrus in raising it to their mouths. Men, women, and children alike drank the entirety of their share and watched him intently.

“We will be with him soon. We have drank the poison together.”

Lydia was almost too distracted by the audience's reactions to comprehend what this meant. Some seemed completely calm, maybe even relieved. While others gasped or looked around wildly. It was easy to see a line between the diehard believers and the… less-so believers.

“Mothers… Fathers… Children… Though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we fear no evil. For thou art with us. And God will wipe the tears from their eyes, and there will be no more death nor sorrow nor crying. And there will be no more pain. For all of the former things have passed away.”

Some families grouped together, mothers holding tight to their kids. A few of the loners cried silently while the rest nodded to Cyrus in admiration. It was a wild array of people he’d collected.

“What do we do?” Emily hissed.

Lydia blinked, beginning to realize that the team was probably thinking the same thing. They wanted to save these people. If the bugs were working, they could hear Cyrus announce their imminent death.

“I don’t think he’s telling the truth,” Lydia admitted, looking Emily in the eyes.

She looked frantic. Her instinct to help was kicking in, but there was no way for her to act on it. “What makes you so sure?”

“Look at Cole.” She nodded up to the stage. “He’s writing in a notebook. I think Cyrus told him to make note of the people who had a bad reaction to the news.”

Emily’s gaze followed that of Lydia’s. At that point, both Cole and Cyrus were scanning the crowd. “They’re writing down the names of the people who are crying,” Emily realized.

“It’s a loyalty list,” Lydia finished out. “He wants to know who will follow him to the end.”

“Be still.” Cyrus’s voice broke through their conversation just in time to confirm their theories. “There was no poison. Instead a test of faith. Because your adversary, the Devil, walketh about as a roaring lion! Choosing whom he may devour. Watch each other for signs of weakness. You are your brother’s keeper.”

“What’s he going to do with those that the Devil has devoured?” Lydia asked slowly, but Emily shook her head, not ready to consider it yet.

~ ~ ~

“You exhausted yet?” Emily asked jokingly as the two of them lay up against the stone walls of the basement. Cyrus had brought the two of them back down there a few hours ago and left them on their own.

“You’ll excuse me if I didn't get much sleep last night,” Lydia shot back. “A cement bomb shelter isn’t exactly my idea of comfort.”

“No kidding.” She was on the opposite wall, one leg propped up on the wooden bench she had taken. “You should try to get some sleep now. We don’t know how long we’ll be here. I’d rather have you well rested when the raid starts.”

“I would try, but-”

They swiftly stopped their discussion as the sound of footsteps echoed through the halls. Cyrus was at the door and he looked pissed.

“Ambers. Stand up.”

Her and Emily shared a curious look, but she did as he said and got up from her bench.

“Lift up your shirt,” he ordered.

“What the hell?” she demanded, but Cyrus had already stepped between her and Emily, reaching for the hem of her shirt and pulling it up above her waist. “Hey! what are you-?”

“That’s what I thought,” he grumbled. “Child interviewers don’t often get shot, do they?”

Lydia glanced down nervously at the bullet wound on her side. She had seen the weird look he gave her when his men had searched her and hit it painfully, but she never would have thought it would lead to blowing her cover.

“I don’t know why you…”

Dropping the front of her shirt, he reached up and grabbed a chunk of her hair, pulling her head back painfully. “We just got word that there was an undercover FBI agent in our midst. Care to explain that?”

Lydia hissed through gritted teeth. “What do you want?”

“You’re not CPS, are you?”

His grip was getting stronger by the minute. She didn’t like the idea of blowing her cover, but he already knew it was one of them. Might as well let him think it was only her.

“No. You were right,” she admitted. “I work for the FBI.”

Now, Lydia didn’t expect him to thank her for her honesty and let her go, but it still came as a shock when he walked off, while still holding her hair. Her feet were immediately yanked out from underneath her, not prepared enough to steady herself, but Cyrus just kept going, not deterred in the slightest by her weight.

Lydia groaned, her hands wrapped around his wrist in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure, but it did very little. Luckily he didn’t take her very far, throwing her down on the ground inside a nearby supply closet.

“I told you not to put me in this position!”

She moved to look up at him, but he was faster, swinging an arm up to her chin and knocking her down onto her back. Upon her next attempt to stand, she received a swift kick in the stomach.

“Ugh.” Her left side lit on fire in an instant and she stayed on the ground, her arms and legs wrapping protectively around her abdomen.

“Get up!” Cyrus sneered.

He reached for one of her arms and pulled her to her feet. Lydia flinched away from him as he threw an arm above his head and brought it down against the side of her face. There was a mirror on the wall behind her which shattered as her right arm moved to steady herself.

“Proverbs 20:30 tells us blows and wounds cleanse away evil.” As he said this, he held her still against the broken mirror so that she could see herself.

It wasn’t until she physically saw the blood dripping from her nose that she could taste its warmth on the edges of her mouth. The temple that he hit was tinged pink, but from the way it ached, Lydia knew it would be a dark purple by evening. And her right arm, which was still lodged in the remaining pieces of the mirror was staining the white sleeve of her shirt.

She shrieked as he threw her backwards again, running into the shelf of canned goods against the opposite wall.

The BAU is listening, she remembered. And Emily said that if they thought someone was in danger, they’d begin the raid.

They needed to prepare. They hadn’t gotten any of the children out yet. If the team could hear her and decided to come in prematurely, a lot of people would die. Lydia wasn’t about to let that happen.

There was a window towards the back of the closet she was in. She could only hope that Spencer was listening.

“Careful.” Her voice was shaky and unconvincing, but she made sure Cyrus saw the anger in her eyes. This message wasn’t for him. “Hit me too hard and everyone will see the bruises on your knuckles.”

“No one is going to care,” he replied calmly. “You came here to shut us down! I’m protecting them!”

“From me?” Her laugh came out almost maniacal with her bruised stomach and battered jaw. “I’m fine! I got bruises on my knuckles too! I can take it!”

“Pride comes before the fall.”

His next blow sent her into the metal shelf again, this time her skull ricocheting against one of the sides and knocking her to the floor. She was just able to see a few drops of blood land on the ground below her, though she couldn’t identify where exactly on her face they came from, before her arms shakily gave out and her cheek hit the cold cement.

She prayed silently to whoever may be listening that Spencer understood. She really hoped she didn’t face all that torment in vain.

~ ~ ~

“We’ve got audio!” Morgan called from across their tent set up.

Spencer ran as fast as he could to the panel controlling the microphone feedback, throwing on a set of headphones.

Hotch hadn’t let him do anything for the past day, claiming he was the most emotionally involved in the situation. And although he couldn’t argue with that fact, it killed him to sit and listen. Lydia was right there. She was in the building just over that hill. And he wasn’t allowed to see her, talk to her, call her, save her.

When the fact that an FBI agent was in the church hit the news, Spencer felt an anchor drop to the bottom of his stomach. She wasn’t even an agent. There was nothing to suggest Cyrus would target her. But his instincts screamed that Emily wouldn’t be the one in danger.

And unfortunately, he was right. When he set those headphones over his ears, he immediately recognized Lydia’s voice. She was moaning in pain.

“We gotta go in,” Hotch said, but Rossi stopped him from throwing off his headphones.

“We’d be risking the lives of everyone in there.”

“Get up!” Cyrus’s words were followed by a crashing noise, like glass shattering.

Please be okay. Please don’t let it be as bad as it sounds.

“Proverbs 20:30 tells us blows and wounds cleanse away evil.”

There was more struggling over the line and Spencer threw off his headphones, unable to bear it any more. She was in pain. He knew this would happen.

“How could you let this happen?” he demanded of Hotch. “We have to go in! She’s not-”

“Sh! Sh!” Rossi hissed, one hand over his earpiece, the other between the unit chief and the boy.

Both looked at him confused, but he just kept listening silently.

“Everyone will see the bruises on your knuckles,” he finally recited. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Spencer didn’t answer, but put his headphones back on swiftly.

“-protecting them!”

“From me?” Lydia’s laugh sounded more like a wail over the mic. “I’m fine! I got bruises on my knuckles too! I can take it!”

“She’s antagonizing him!” Morgan exclaimed, frustratedly.

“She’s not talking to him,” Rossi argued.

“Pride comes before the fall.”

There was one more grunt, then the line went quiet. When Spencer finally breathed in again, all eyes were on him.

“She gets bruises on her knuckles when she lets off steam on a case,” he explained quietly. “I always worry for her, but she says she’d rather hurt her hands for a little bit then do something rash or detrimental on a case.”

“So what she’s saying is-”

“Don’t come in,” he finished begrudgingly. “She’s telling us not to go in.”

~ ~ ~

Cole had to basically carry her to one of the upstairs bedrooms. Every breath was agony for her lungs and a violent sting for her nose and mouth. And she figured it was psychosomatic, but her bullet wound hurt as if she’d just been shot yet again.

Who would have thought this whole hostage thing could get ten times worse?

Cole tied her arms to the sides of the bed, though frankly, she didn’t think she’d have the abdominal strength to sit back up anyway. And she didn’t want to try.

Kathy Evanson came by with a washcloth to clean the blood away from her nose, mouth, and temple. She tried to warn Lydia against lying to Cyrus, to which Lydia snapped back, “Do you speak from personal experience?”

Kathy didn’t say another word before standing up and leaving. It was a clear sign that she was hiding something and Lydia could only hope Emily caught onto that too. ‘Cause Lydia… she wasn’t going anywhere fast.

Downstairs, Cyrus had pulled Emily into his office, using some of his only medical supplies to disinfect the tiny abrasions in his hand from his fight with Lydia.

“Did you know she was FBI?” he demanded, as Cole shut the door behind the three of them.

Emily quickly shook her head, but her heart was in her stomach with fear for Lydia. Lydia was strong. She could take a lot. But she was also far too defiant to make this easy on herself. Emily silently wished she’d been smart.

“Nancy told me the woman was a child abuse interview expert from Denver.” Emily hated to put the blame on someone else, but Cyrus couldn’t hurt Nancy anymore. Nancy was gone. Lydia was still here and if Emily made her sound worse, it could fuel Cyrus’s anger towards her. “In the 4 years I worked with her, Nancy had never lied to me before.”

“As far as you know,” Cyrus replied. “Their law says that a 15-year-old girl is a child. Fifty years ago, that same law said a 14-year-old was an adult. Have children changed so much in 50 years?”

No, but people have, Emily thought. It was frustrating. Hotch had chosen Lydia because she was so good at acting calm. At least… in the workplace. She could have any unsub they met trust her entirely, or keep them constantly on their toes. Now, Emily could act, but she couldn’t do that.

If anyone’s cover should have been blown, it should have been hers. Emily knew more about CIRG protocols. She could diffuse a situation. Acting like she wasn’t totally disgusted by Cyrus’s morals was not in her skill set.

“I think it’s a matter of trust. People have stopped believing that kids can make good decisions, they’ve stopped believing in selfless acts, and they stopped putting their trust and faith into God.”

Her appeal seemed to work. Cyrus looked intrigued. She hoped it would hold long enough to make a good argument in her favor. Now was the perfect time to build up Cyrus’s trust with the FBI, because he had brought in the medical supplies Rossi had given them. There was absolutely no way that the BAU wasn’t listening.

“On your next call, you should test them. Test the negotiator. Make him prove that he isn’t a liar.”

“How would you suggest I do that?”

“Ask for the identity of the FBI agent.”

Cole looked unamused. “No. We already know her identity.”

Emily opened her mouth to respond, but Cyrus beat her to it. “They don’t know that.”

“Yeah. But the FBI would never tell us.”

“They keep asking you to release people,” Emily argued. “Tell them you’ll release a kid and you won’t harm the agent. If they really care about the children, they’ll have to tell you.”

“You’re trying to get us to release a child!” Cole accused.

“It’s one kid! If they don’t hold up on their end of the deal, then you know they can’t be trusted!”

“She has a point,” Cyrus conceded much to Emily’s relief. “What is it, Christopher?”

Emily glanced over her shoulder to find Cole pacing the room.

“Some people have been talking about… leaving.”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah.”

Cyrus glanced at his hands. “Wake the baby. Let’s let them meet the orphan that they’ve made.”

~ ~ ~

Cole held onto Lydia’s shoulder’s firmly as he led her back to the chapel. She’d been dozing for most of the day, unable to move from her bed, so her ability to process the situation was hazy.

Cyrus had everyone gathered in the pews. “It has come to my attention that some of our brothers and sisters have lost their faith in God. That they no longer love us. They want to abandon us. So, when I call out your name, please stand.”

Cole left her leaning up against one of the back walls as he went to usher the last of the people in and that’s when Lydia noticed Emily eyeing her, slowly creeping closer and closer while still looking as if she was listening to Cyrus.

“He looks pissed,” Lydia whispered to her when she was close enough. “He’s choosing the people who failed the loyalty test.”

“I’m so sorry,” was all Emily could say.

“Em, I’m okay,” she snapped, more forcefully than she meant. She knew she wasn’t okay. “You need to stay focused and tell me what to do. What does this mean?”

Emily cleared her throat quietly. “He’s releasing these people, because he knows it’s over. He’s getting rid of any possible threat to his mass suicide plan. I’ll try and figure out when it is and get word to the team. Be ready. There’s going to be a raid tonight.”

~ ~ ~

“Drugging the food’s not an option because of the children,” Hotch was saying as they passed around tubs of fried chicken. “We have to go in.”

“Best time to hit ‘em is when they’re least mentally prepared,” Rossi added.

“3 AM.” All eyes turned on Reid. “Biorhythms are at their low point then.”

“Reid, I told you to stay with JJ,” Hotch argued, already on his way to lead Spencer out of the room, but he stood firm.

“Please let me help. I can’t just sit here and pray that she’s going to walk back out of there. I need to do something.”

There was a moment of silent tension between the two of them. Hotch didn’t want him to go. Technically, he shouldn’t let him go. But he didn’t have the time to argue, and Spencer would no doubt be helpful when it came to setting up this plan.

“The plan depends on Ambers and Prentiss separating the diehards from the followers,” Hotch continued, turning back to the group.

“And delaying Cyrus’s diehards from reacting to our assault,” Morgan said.

“No, that’s not my main concern. Ambers and Prentiss know what they need to do. I don’t know how to tell them when we’re coming. This whole thing hinges on them being ready for us at 3 AM.”

“Reid? What the hell are you doing?”

Hotch and Rossi followed Morgan’s gaze to the young genius who was covering the top of one of the food trays with red sharpie.

When he stepped back, the tray read, ‘New owners! New hours! Open ‘til 3 AM!’ The time was underlined multiple times.

“They’ll recognize my writing,” he promised. “Just write this on a few different plates so that there’s a better chance they’re near someone with a sign.”

“Let’s just hope it’s that easy,” Morgan grumbled.

~ ~ ~

Lydia watched curiously as Emily slipped into her room and carefully shut the door. She wasn’t sure how Emily had gotten away from Cyrus’s men, but she was positive something big was happening, else she wouldn’t have taken such a risk.

“3 AM,” she said, reaching the bed and helping Lydia sit up. “We need to get all the women and children down to the basement before 3.”

Lydia had no clue what time it was, only that the sky was completely dark and their time frame was getting shorter. “Find Kathy,” she told Emily. “I’m pretty sure she made that 911 call.”

“Pretty sure?”

“She’s hiding something,” Lydia admitted. “But no, I’m not positive that that’s it.”

The unease was more than a little scary, but there wasn’t much else for them to do. These people wouldn’t trust her or Emily. The only way to save them was to find someone they trusted.

“Stay here. I’ll be back for you before 3.”

“Don’t get caught.”

~ ~ ~

“They’re setting the place to blow up,” Kathy said as she ran into Lydia’s room.

Lydia’s heart fell. “Where’s Emily?” she demanded.

“I told Jessie that Cyrus wanted the two of them to gather the women and children. She’s leading them to the basement now,” she explained, untying the ropes on Lydia’s wrists.

Oh, thank god. Lydia thought for sure when Emily didn’t come back that she’d been caught.

“It’s 2:45. We’ve got to hurry.”

Kathy pulled Lydia along by her arm, Lydia’s other hand wrapped around her waist. Her entire torso burned as she ran down the stairs towards the basement. Almost out. This was almost over.

The sound of gunfire was muted through the walls and Lydia didn’t have time to place where it was coming from.

Get out. Get out.

As they were reaching the door, Lydia could see Emily leading the group into the basement.

“Let’s go! This way!”

“Let’s go, kids!”

“This building’s going to blow up!”

There was shouting in all directions. Lydia’s legs barely held her steady as she ran alongside Kathy. The only thing that was keeping her from passing out was Spencer. He was just outside. She needed to see him.

“Lydia!” She looked up as she passed through the door frame and found herself face to face with Morgan. She didn’t have time to open her mouth before he had pulled her into his shoulder. “I’m going to kill Cyrus.”

“You don’t have long,” she said, almost jokingly, but the timing was badly placed. Not a moment later, the ground and walls began to shake and a deafening sound filled the basement.

Everyone still inside hit the floor, protecting their heads from possible falling debris, but the ceiling was solid. Lydia had been through earthquakes before, and she’d survived an explosion, but this was somehow worse than both. She felt so claustrophobic she didn’t even try to breathe, out of fear she’d find herself unable too. For many seconds, she stayed on the floor, unable to tell if the rumbling had stopped.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” She didn’t realize it was Emily who was talking until Morgan and Rossi were helping her off the ground. “That was the explosives. If Cyrus planned a second round, the basement might crumble too.”

The four of them made a run for the secret door in the school, Lydia now holding onto Rossi for support, so that Derek could lead the group and make sure the rest of the kids got out.

“How’s Spencer?” she asked as they climbed back into the school building.

“I imagine Hotch has got at least seven guys holding him down right now to keep him from running into the rubble to find you. How are you?”

Lydia didn’t want to answer that. Not only was she in a lot of physical pain, but after that explosion went off above her, her heart rate had been soaring.

Everyone’s eyes were on the smoking ruble that was the chapel, amazed by the destruction. Many kids were crying and women were no doubt waiting to see if their husbands had survived. Rossi kept pulling Lydia along, not letting her stop to watch. They walked through the barricade of armed men with ease.

“Lydia! Lydia!”

It was Spencer. He was looking for her. Lydia tried to yell back, but Rossi could tell she didn’t have it in her.

“I’ve got her, Reid!”

Not too long after, she saw her boyfriend pushing through the crowd, his eyes looking around frantically.

When their eyes met, it was like Lydia’s whole world muted to a dull roar. Three days. Three days she’d been trapped in that building, trying to reach the team and getting the shit kicked out of her. Three days she’d been quiet, accepting Cyrus’s blows. All to see him again.

She wanted to run to him, but she just didn’t have it in her. Luckily, he was eager enough for the both of them.

His arms were so tight around her that she felt like all her ribs would break at once and her nose was so deep in the side of his neck that the bruises burned. She couldn’t care less.

He pulled away all too fast and she was about to protest, when she realized why. As she looked up at him, a breeze hit her cheeks, making the wet trails going down her face apparent. She took in shuddering breaths.

She was crying.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say, the back of her hand reaching to wipe them away, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like they were gone. “Sorry, I can’t-”

Before she could finish, he leaned down and kissed her. He kissed her in front of the whole team. In front of everyone. He’d never done that before. PDA was a very rare thing for him. But all her shock died on her lips, suffocating between his own.

“I love you,” he whispered, barely moving an inch away. “I love you so very much. You don’t need to apologize for your tears.”

Such kind and affirming words should have quelled her tears, but she just sobbed harder. “I love you too. Please don’t ever leave me.”

Tags: @kris-stuff, @wooya1224, @bispences, @anotherr-fine-mess, @eddysocs

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auredosa · 3 years

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i NEED a one shot of malistaire having a ptsd nightmare about their escape from dragonspyre then sylvia is there to comfort him when he wakes up

thank you for the prompt again, anon! i hope this meets your expectations! enjoy!

wet hands

tw; destruction, war collateral, trauma

Malistaire was tailing his father home from the Command Academy the hour it began.

Whispers of a riot, a coup, an attack had been floating around the mage division as of late. No, not floating, more like crawling up the grape vine and becoming the subject of many late night meetings between the senior members of their branch.

High General Vladan Drake, naturally, was required to be in attendance. At first, Malistaire was worried that the other correspondents wouldn't let him attend-he had a fraction of his father's experience in service, but to his surprise, he was given a seat at the table and even asked for his opinion on occasion.

"Just in case one of us drops dead before this all blows over. You have a youth to tell our story," one of them, a blunt Diviner, had stated.

"We have the crystals for that, Agatha," his father snapped back. "Why shouldn't we use them to keep record of our rendezvous?"

"You saw what happened when those little gems get into the wrong hands." She took a long whiff of her cigar and leaned back into her chair. The smoke smelled to Malistaire of burnt parchment and sandalwood; not something that he'd remotely want wafting in his lungs. "Can't trust anybody these days. One leaked jewel and the upper echelons of society go to-"

"Enough," commanded a third voice. He was seated at the head of the round table, rings of every cut and metal adorning each of his thumbs. "We will not be holding any proof of our meetings on this topic. My superiors are suspicious of us as it is-"

He was about to elaborate further when the crystal goblet before him began to tremble. The drink within started to ripple, then splash onto the table. Malistaire gripped the edge of his chair and looked towards his father.

"What is this, now?" Vladan hissed, looking to the door of the room. "Another experiment of the lower division?"

Suddenly, a frantic knocking sounded at the double doors to the conference room, accompanied by a voice too young to be a late attendee, too old to be one of the servants.

A white haired woman who had yet to speak raised her hand to the deadlock, and the chains fell apart at her will. The doors flew open to reveal a gentleman in harlequin robes, red as a child in the snow. His breaths came out in wild pants, and his fingers gripped his wand as if he were still in battle.

"Mikaeil," the woman greeted stoically. "What is going on?"

"The Titan!” he gasped, struggling to stand up straight. "The Titan is-is here."

"I beg your pardon?" Vladan probed, brows knitting in disbelief. "Tell the full truth, boy!"

"It is the truth!" insisted Mikaeil, rising to full height in the presence of the General. "And you must evacuate at once! The insurgency-"

Another tremor rocked the underground chamber. This time, dust cascaded above their heads. A hairline crack appeared in the stone, before splintering across the ceiling.

“The insurgency has begun,” the woman finished. She finally opened her eyes, revealing glowing ivory pupils which had scried their doom.

"But-" Vladan began, just as a stone column shattered the stone ceiling and appeared like a giant rusty nail in the center of the room.

"I said we leave! Now!" The mage repeated.

They were running. It was difficult to keep pace when the ground wasn't meeting his feet. The thunder and rumble were deafening to his young ears. When they were outside, the sky was blanketed in thick fog. Not fog, Malistaire realized. Smoke and debris from the destruction that had only begun.

"To our airships, general?" The cigar-wielding woman shouted.

"If we can!" Vladan called back. "There's a cargo ship near the commerce district. Meet there!"

As was taught in all schools of battle, it was too dangerous to travel together. While they couldn't quite see their enemy, it was better to assume they had the entire command academy surrounded.

"If this is an attack, then where is-"

A hellish roar tore through the quarter. They all gazed up to the sky, where the crimson, leathery wings beat mercilessly through the smog.

"The Titan . . ." Malistaire muttered in awe. The stench of burnt flesh and ash wafted from above. From the cloud cover, he felt a drop of rain hit his cheek. Placing a finger to his face, he found that it was warm. Blood.

"General!"

Behind them, an ornate pillar gave way. But not just the shattered stone beam. Shards of crumbling white stone, all fashioned into jagged points, were hovering in the air, like knives pointed at a target. Pointed at them.

An unseen puppeteer gave the command, and the pillar came down in unforgiving gravity.

“Father!”

“Malistaire?” came a soft voice beside him.

He gripped the cotton bedsheets in clenched fists. There remained an unyielding tightness in his chest, and sweat gathered on his brow. But the air was different: tinged with morning dew and waxy smoke wafting from the nightside table. The warm glow of an oil lamp filled the room, illuminating their shared bedroom.

No fire. No chaos. No blood raining from the carnage-stained clouds.

Just his wife, staring at him with a familiar concern.

Ah.

It happened again, hadn’t it?

Another nightmare to inconvenience those around him. Some sorry part of him wished he could carve his memories out of his head. The aftermath of this was never pretty. He didn’t need comforting. He didn’t need to recount the days of horror and warfare. It wasn’t as if that would change anything. Those events were singed into his brain like a brand on skin. No theurgist could fix that.

“Apologies,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “I . . . I’m sorry for waking you.”

“No need to say sorry, silly,” assured Sylvia. “It’s really nobody’s fault, you know. The mind can be a horrible foe sometimes.” As if she hadn’t parroted that to his brother too.

She slid off her side of the bed and stretched her arms. Her hair was twisted into unruly tangles, brushed aside to show tired green eyes. Despite her best intentions, he could tell she was tired, too. Now she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until she had to get up for the day’s work.

“I’m going to make tea,” she yawned. “Raspberry leaf or the stuff from Marleybone?”

“Your call,” Malistaire replied. He was still unnerved by what he’d seen in his subconscious, and anxious about the trouble he was causing her. His throat was too dry to let him offer another apology.

There was nothing to do but stare blankly at the other end of the wall with his racing thoughts. Before he knew it, Sylvia had returned with two teacups of floral refreshment. He made a mental note to thank Arthur for introducing them to this custom.

“Here. Be careful.”

He took his own cup and wrapped his palms around the base, smiling at its fleeting but welcome warmth. Sylvia took her place next to him and they both said nothing for but a moment, quietly partaking in their drinks.

“Same sequence?” She asked once they’d both had a sip.

“Not quite. It . . . this took place earlier, minutes before we arrived in Wizard City.” It was easier to talk about if he treated it like a historical text from a book, not the horrors of his own mind. “It’s as if I’m going through all the motions in reverse, back to the start of it all. The problem is that I don’t think there’s any further to go back to.”

“Well,” Sylvia began, “that’s a good thing, isn’t it? You’ve completely exhausted the entire story, so it can’t get any worse from here.”

“Not necessarily . . .” Malistaire grumbled.

“I know.” She sighed and took another sip of her tea. The conversation always progressed this way. There was little she could do to quell his self-destructive subconscious. As far as either of them knew, there were no spells that took away bad dreams, at least not ones that didn’t require the favor of a fairy or a monetary fee of some sort. Those were simply fiction[SH1] .

“. . . I’m sorry there isn’t more I can do, my heart,” she said sadly, setting her cup on the nightstand. “And I understand that I don’t really understand the things you see in your dreams.”

“Sylvia, don’t bother.” Malistaire grumbled, putting his down as well. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“Exactly,” his wife affirmed. “I’m not going to stop searching for something to make this easier. Dahlia might know something, or maybe a seraph on the Way could-“

“That isn’t what I meant.” He interrupted, more roughly than intended. “We would both know about that, wouldn’t we?”

He scowled at the floor, finally feeling better now that his anxiety was turning into frustration.

“My father and mother have been lost. My brother and I can’t return home because there isn’t one to return to, not even if we wanted. And for all we can do, between the both of us, we can’t bring them back.”

Cracks, shouts, fire, stone, shards.

"General!"

“Ever since then, every night, I am reminded of that, and I despise it.”

“Ah.”

Sylvia’s face was unreadable. It took her a moment to rationalize the horribly charged vent that’d spilled from his mouth. before her face gave way to kind understanding. The corners of her mouth turned up in a wistful smile, and he could only wish he could have her saintly patience.

“You are correct, love. Nothing you said was wrong,” she soothed. “However-“

She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Her graceful hand clasped over his. The messy locks of her hair brushed against his face, daisies and rain under his nose.

“Your wounds are fresh, and they can still heal. Your parents may have passed, but their legacy is not entirely forgotten-thanks to you and your brother,” she added, smiling. “I promised you that I would save as many people as I could, and I know there are so many more, and that there is still so much work to do. So, so much work.”

Three tiny squeezes in the heart of his palm.

“I know it hurts, love. I know you’re tired. But I’m almost certain that one way or another . . .”

A tender kissed pressed to the stubble on his cheek.

“You can always find your way back home.”

#thank you for being so patient anon!#malistiare drake #sylvia drake #wizard101

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pacificsandsrecovery · 3 years

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Drug Prices: The Real Cost

It’s no secret drugs cost money, we all know from one avenue or another that drug prices can be high and there is a big financial drain on people with addiction. Drug prices are wide-ranging across different addictions and If you’ve ever wondered how much do drugs cost, you aren’t alone. It’s a common question, and one of the more important things to recognize is that when we talk about the monetary high costs of drug use.

Drug prices generally don’t even take into account the many other costs including health problems, emotional and psychological costs, and in some cases, the loss of life.

Illicit Drug Prices on the Streets

The following gives a rough estimate of what someone might pay for illicit drugs on the streets.

Marijuana

Marijuana is one of the most widely used drugs in America, and many states have made it legal medically and in some places, recreationally. Marijuana has a psychoactive chemical called THC. It’s used in a variety of ways. For example, it can be smoked, vaped, cooked into food, or used as a liquid.

Marijuana users pay around $20 a gram; an eighth of marijuana, which is about 3.5 grams, might cost around $40.

Heroin

Heroin is an illegal opioid that’s the cause of many of the deaths during the opioid epidemic. Heroin can be something that people start to use after they develop an addiction to prescription opioids because it is cheaper and easier to get.

The price of around 0.1 grams of heroin could range from $15 to $20.

Someone who is a heavy user might pay $150 to $200 a day for heroin. In a lot of locations, you can buy heroin for cheaper than you can buy cigarettes, especially in bigger cities.

There’s a reason for this—drug cartels have focused on providing a cheap product to a larger number of people who can’t afford an opioid prescription medication.

Cocaine

The effects of cocaine last only around 30 minutes, and the average price is $100 to $120 a gram. For someone who is a heavy cocaine user, they could spend upwards of $100 a day supporting their addiction.

Methamphetamine

Methamphetamine, also known as meth or crystal meth, is a powerful stimulant drug. It affects the central nervous system. This drug is very addictive and it’s usually smoked, although it can be injected, swallowed, or snorted.

The price of crystal meth averages around $80 a gram. One dose of meth is around 0.25 grams, so you might pay $20 for a dose.

Hallucinogens

There are a lot of other street drugs that fall into the larger category of hallucinogens.

MDMA, also known as ecstasy, usually costs anywhere from $15 to $25 on the streets for one pill, with effects lasting anywhere from three to six hours.

A single dose of LSD, also called acid, might cost anywhere from $5 to $20.

Hallucinogenic mushrooms can cost $20 to $25 for around an eighth of an ounce.

PCP, or Angel Dust, can cost $20 to $30 per gram, with a single dose being anywhere from one to five milligrams.

The Cost of Prescription Drugs

Prescription drugs can be just as addictive and even deadly as illegal drugs, and along with that prescription drug spending is higher than ever. Opioids are prescription pain medicines that can change how pain signals are sent between the body and the brain and they can, unfortunately, be very addictive. In 2017, nearly 59 prescriptions for opioids were written per 100 people in the U.S.

Vicodin is one example of a prescription opioid that has a high potential for misuse. Prescription drug prices are very high; if you get a prescription for Vicodin and you don’t have health care, drug companies may charge around $125 for 100 pills. That comes out to about $1.26 per Vicodin tablet. If you were to go and try to buy that same pill on the street, the list price would cost nearly four times more in most cases.

Adderall is one of the brand-name drugs that is highly abused amongst students. Prescribed to treat symptoms of ADHD. It is also sometimes abused by people who want the energy burst, focus, and concentration it can create. With health care or a discount card, generic drug versions of Adderall will usually cost around $25 a month. Buying Adderall on the streets or using it without a prescription may mean that you pay around $10 a pill.

The Other Costs of Addiction

Drug prices aren’t the only cost involved with substance abuse. Addiction is expensive in so many ways after you already spend money.

You might lose your job because of your addiction. You might not be able to fulfill your home duties, and your drug use could cost you meaningful relationships. You may also face legal consequences, which come with their own costs.

Sometimes people worry that the cost of addiction treatment is a barrier to them receiving the help they need. The reality is that untreated addiction is much more expensive than an addiction treatment program monetarily and in other ways. Addiction may cost you your life; An addiction treatment program, like Pacific Sands Recovery Center, is one of the best investments you can make.

#drug prices #drug addiction #addiction treatment #illegal drugs #rehab center

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banashee · 4 years

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Part 5 of my @badthingshappenbingo round 2

With a bit of help

Steve doesn’t run, but he very much wants to. His steps are wide and just quick enough so he can move as fast as humanly possible without making himself any more noticable. Walking quick won’t make him stand out in a busy street, but running would probably earn him some looks. It’s the last thing he wants right now.

There is so much noise around here - chaotic traffic with honking cars and loud motors, people chatting, yelling, laughing. Somewhere, a toddler is crying. Phones are ringing left and right and people are shouting back into it.

The noise on it’s own would be bad enough, but there are so many neon lights, and so many different smells - Steve wants to rip his own head off and bury it in cotton, so he doesn’t have to see or hear any more of it. It’s too much.

Sometime, in the 70 years he was asleep in the ice, the world got really fucking loud. It’s close to unbearable, but how do you even begin to explain that?

Luckily, it doesn’t take long for him to reach the SHIELD facility near Times Square. The street itself is one of his own personal nightmares. Steve isn’t sure if the reason for that is his less than pleasant awakening in the 21st century and the memories with this particular place, or if it is due to the fact that it is even brighter with flashing lights and video commercials here.

In any case, he is happy when he enters the sleek glass building. It’s busy, too, but not nearly as bad as outside.

He smiles politely without really making eye contact at the people he crosses on the way back to his quarters. Once the door falls shut behind him, it’s like he deflates entirely. His hands are shaking, Steve notices, and he drops his bag onto the floor, next to his brand new, unused combat boots that they gave him. He didn’t have a mission yet - he’s itching for it, but at the same time isn’t sure what will be expected of him.

With heavy limbs, feet dragging over the floor, Steve makes his way to the bed in the corner and collapses onto it.

His ears are still ringing, his heart is still racing, and all he wants is just a moment of peace and quiet. Even the ticking of the clock sounds deafening to him, and he knows exactly what is happening in the rooms nearby.

SHIELD barracks have paper thin walls, and his enchanted senses don’t help. In the room next to him, somebody is playing a video game. The gunshots and explosions are fake and Steve knows it, but he can’t help but flinch at the noise every time. It’s too much.

Another room over, someone is having a heated but one sided argument - over the telephone, probably, if he had to guess.

Across from him, it sounds like there are two people and - oh. Oh hell no. He really doesn’t want to listen to that, it would be incredibly rude.

In an act of desperation, Steve crawls out of bed again and makes himself a pair of makeshift ear plugs out of toilet paper, then he buries his head under the pillow.

He is shaking violently by now, wishing the world would be just a little bit calmer. It’s still so new, and he feels incredibly stupid, but he is absolutely overwhelmed with everything.

There is a name for it, he learns later. Sensory Overload.

That’s what he gets from typing “Why am I overwhelmed from noise, people and lights?” into the Google Thingy, and it makes a lot of sense. Unlucky for him, the only suggestion he can really find is to remove himself from the stressful environment, which is not always possible. Besides, he highly doubts that the articles he has been reading have taken a guy from the 40s who woke up in 2012 just a few weeks ago into account. His case is, admittedly, quite unique.

“Quite Unique”, he knows, also means that getting help for The Thing is hard.

Steve makes do with whatever he can, but it’s draining. Oftentimes, he’ll find himself collapsing into bed after a day around people, unable to stop shaking. The thing they gave him for alerts keeps beeping sometimes, even after hours, and he barely resists the urge to “accidentally” step on it one of these days.

Then, aliens attack New York, and his life changes once again. He’s got a team now, even though their start was admittedly messy and his own attitude not the best.

He has a chat with Stark, later, and they shake hands. Steve is not sure he’d call him or the others “friends” at this point, but “friendly” for sure, and he trusts every single one of them. This has to be enough for now.

Steve leaves the point of departure with a bag full of clothes on the back of his motorcycle and a mobile phone with a few numbers programmed into it. He isn’t sure if he’ll use it, but he figures it might be useful. Besides, they tell him that phone booths aren’t really a thing anymore, so better not rely on them.

Steve intends to go see the country for a bit, drive wherever he sees fit at the moment.

His plan to see the cities largely fails - much like New York, there is too much stress, too much noise. Steve can’t relax in any of those places, so he gives up and makes his way into much more rural areas.

Back in the day, when he was with the army, he traveled the world, but he never managed to enjoy the sights, for obvious reasons. Now, he’s got all the time in the world to go watch the stars in a field where no light pollutes the air. He walks on a beach for the first time in ages, letting the feeling of water and sand around his feet wash over him.

Luckily, he manages to grab a small, portable photo camera in a tourist shop. It’s a cheap, easy to use thing which he can deal with. There is a camera on his telephone, Stark said, but that doesn’t really seem necessary to him. He didn’t use the phone, but he keeps it charged - just in case.

Two weeks after he left New York, his phone rings. The damn thing makes him jump and almost crash his motorcycle into a tree.

Cursing, he pulls over to the side and fumbles it to answer. The sound of it ringing grinds his gears, and it takes every ounce of self control not to snap at whoever is at the other end.

“Hello?”

“Steve, hi. This is Natasha. Where are you right now?”

“Oh, hey. I’m in Georgia right now - why? Am I needed back?”

“We have a situation - sorry to interrupt your road trip. Can you please keep your phone on and wait at the nearest point accessible for the jet? We’ll pick you up on the way.”

“Yes, of course. You will be able to find me?”

“Already did.” it sounds like she’s smiling. “See you in about two hours, possibly sooner”

When the jet sets down on an empty space of land, the ramp extends and Steve drives up there. The door closes behind him, and he is greeted by his team, already suited up. Thankfully, they brought his gear and his shield.

The situation is messy and so is the fight they have to take part in, but all of them return to New York in one piece - small favors.

When the jet settles down on the roof of the tower, it does so with little grace. A string of very colorful curses emerges from the cockpit, where Barton is ranting about shitty robots shooting at them and wheels that spontaneously fall off in the middle of landing, but other than that, they’re fine.

Internally, Steve has to agree with him, but externally, he keeps on a brave face. He refuses to lose it over this, although he very much would like to join in on banging his head against hard surfaces. Unfortunately, it’s just a bad look on a leader, so he remains calm.

As soon as he steps out of the jet, the noises of the city drill into his brain, and it takes a lot of self control not to cringe at it. He’d gotten used to the peace and quiet of the countrysides, and even though he’d known it wouldn’t last forever, he already finds himself missing it.

Thankfully, the inside of the tower is a lot more bearable. The walls must be thick and at least somewhat soundproof. It makes it easier to relax, and although the debrief takes a lot out of them all, they’re glad to be back.

Before they shuffle off into different rooms to sleep off the last mission, Tony stops him on the way.

“Oh hey, before you walk off - let me know if you’ll need anything specific, the apartments are in planning.”

Steve blinks. “Apartments?”

“Yeah. Here, for everyone. Didn’t I tell you?”

“Uh, no?”

“Oh. Here you go, then. We’ll move everyone in here and I need to know if you have any specific preferences. Layout, accommodations, furniture whatever. You can tell JARVIS, too, if you’d rather.”

Before he can ask anything else or even say “thank you”, Tony has disappeared, leaving Steve standing there like he just got rolled over by a train. To be fair, this is the kinda feeling that most people have after talking to Tony when they’re not used to him, and Steve has been away for a while.

He mulls over this on his way to a guest room. JARVIS is kind enough to explain the plans in more detail, which helps a lot because “Hey so, you’ll move in here for free, let me know if you want any stuff” is not what he expected to hear once he got back.

Truth be told, it feels kind of weird and overwhelming, so he decides to shower, sleep and think about anything else later.

As it turns out, the walls are soundproof in here - Steve falls asleep and wakes up in total silence, and he sighs in relief. Maybe, moving here wouldn’t be such a bad idea, especially since the tower is a lot more private and convenient than SHIELD barracks.

When he makes his way to the kitchen for breakfast, there are voices and the clattering of plates, sizzling from the stove and gurgling off the coffee machine. His ears can pick up every single noise, but unlike the traffic on the streets or neighbours back at SHIELD, it’s not uncomfortable now that he is well rested and, most of all, got a break.

Maybe, living here isn’t a bad idea. It’s an opportunity to get closer to the team, especially since everyone else will be around as well. So, Steve enters the kitchen to share breakfast with the other Avengers.

He’ll figure out the rest.

*+~

Square 5/25: Sensory Overload

#banashee writes #Bad things happen bingo #marvel fanfiction

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my-thoughts-my-views · 4 years

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Macbook Air M1 | Best Suitable Accessories for Macbook Air M1 | Laptop Accessories

Macbook Air M1

Let’s talk about best suitable accessories for you MacBook Air M1. So you might have recently picked up an M1 MacBook Air or Pro. or perhaps you have an Intel model Or even one of the larger 15 or 16 inch MacBook Pros. Here’s a list of accessories that are tried and tested by me over the years and really help enhance the capabilities and increase you productivity with these machines. You can purchase these accessories from Amazon or other other e-commerce website to get best gadgets for you likewww.gadgetworldusa.com.

I will divide it in two sections:

- The first talking of accessories you can get for your MacBook when using it in laptop form, these are meant to be portable and in general can be applied to any laptop.

- In the second half, I will look at accessories when using your MacBook in desktop mode. What accessories you can get to make a seamless shift from laptop to desktop mode and carry on working for those longer, more demanding work sessions.

So let us get started with accessories to get when using your MacBook as a laptop.

USB Port:

Apple USB Type C to Type A adapter

The first thing I picked up when I got my first USB type C port only MacBook Pro, was this. The Apple USB Type C to Type A adapter. Well, with only USB Type C ports on all MacBook’s nowadays and a lot of peripherals still using a USB Type A port, you need the ability to access type A devices from the word go, so this is an excellent adapter to have in your bag, that will give you USB 3.1 Gen 1 speeds from any device that is also compliant with at least this standard.

Lenovo USB type C hub

Now, you may be thinking about why you should get an adapter that just provides a USB type A connection, when you can get a Lenovo USB type C hub with many other connections. Well, if that’s your Amazon is full of listing for these and there’s a lot of badge engineering happening here. So, a single supplier maybe manufacturing the same product for a number of retailers. Now both of these are well reviewed hubs, but I’ve had better luck with this Lenovo Hub. It is a couple of years old and no longer available in this exact version.

This other one offers additionally a 3.5mm jack, but in actual performance, it tends to heat up and loose the display completely till it gets cool. Also, you’re unable to adjust the volume using the MacBook’s software slider when you connect external speakers via this hub.

One thing these unpowered docks will not give you, is transfer speeds via SD cards. You really need a dedicated SD card reader if you work with large photo or video files. This here is an excellent choice, the SanDisk Imagemate Pro and it allows you to exploit the full potential of your SD cards read and write speeds.

SanDisk Imagemate Pro

Cable:

USB Type C to Micro B Amazon Basic Cable

Let’s talk cables for a bit. Now although you can use one of the aforementioned adapters or hubs to connect to USB type A cable devices, but if you’re not going to be moving between older computers and your new MacBook too much, you may want consider a USB Type C to Micro B cable such as these.

They are from different brands, but for the sake of uniformity wherever you may be located, I will recommend the USB Type C to Micro B Amazon Basic Cable. This will allow you to connect a sinning USB 3.1 hard drive directly to your MacBook via USB C and achieve USB 3.1 Gen 1 speeds.

Griffin Breaksafe cable

If you’ve had MacBook in the past and really loved the idea of MagSafe, this could be just the cable you were looking for. This is the Griffin Breaksafe cable that snaps in half if you yank or pull at it and prevents your computer from falling off a desk or other surface.

You have to be careful here, because there are tons of such options online. One example is this Baseus MagSafe connector, I really liked the idea of it. Convert your existing cable to MagSafe and have a very small connector permanently plugged in to the MacBook. And the connector itself was right angled to enable a more compact profile when charging. But in practise, this is not recommended at all. 99% of times it worked as advertised but that one time, when I connected it, remember this has live electricity running through it, it fried the logic board on one of my previous MacBook.

So, the only safe product I have come across is the Griffin Breaksafe cable. It’s bulkier and only charges up to 60 watts, so not as suited for bigger MacBook, but it’s safe and long enough to charge MacBook Airs and 13 inch Pros or even iPad Pros.

Cable Protectors

And also on the topic of cables, you can pick these little cable protectors on Amazon for next to nothing, they go on to your original Apple cables like so and offer great protection from bends in the one are Apple’s cables are most vulnerable at and if left unprotected, the cables tend to get frayed in this region. I used them on my iPad Pro and MacBook Pro 15 inch original USB Type C cables and they are as pristine as they were on day one, some two years later.

Mouse:

Logitech MX Master 3 mouse

Now when it comes to mouse, you do have the excellent trackpad on the MacBook Air itself, but if you want that classic mouse experience and want that scroll wheel, I cannot say. Enough good things about theLogitech MX Master 3 mouse. It’s not the most compact of mice but trust me when I say this, once you’ve used one of these, you will never want to go back to anything else. Really you have to experience it to know how great it is, it’s simply the best mouse in the world. In certain regions you can get in a Mac specific variant, but from what I’ve read there isn’t that much value addition in that one, so I would rather stick to the general variant and retain compatibility across devices.

Sandstorm mouse

You can connect up to three devices and switch between them using a toggle button on the bottom of the mouse. But if you want something more compact, I have used this Sandstorm mouse for the past three years now and this is from a UK based manufacturer. It is quite excellent, but its limited availability and recent issues I’ve had in terms of lagging with my older 15 inch MacBook Pro, means I would rather point you in the direction of the Logitech pebble mouse, which is really compact and performs well.

Logitech pebble mouse

Protection:

MOCA hard shell case

Now let’s talk protection. For many people MacBook is an expensive purchase and they will rightfully have think about protecting their new investment. The first thing that comes to mind is a hard shell case such as this. This is the MOCA hard shell case for the new M1 MacBook Air, but also fits other2020 MacBook Airs. The idea is sound, but since 2016, when the USB Type C MacBook came out, their displays are razor thin and the top lid has very little strength to it. So whenever I’ve tried to use such a case, be it on this MacBook Air or my older 15 inch MacBook Pro, it adds too much weight to the lid, and I can see this having an adverse effect over the years on the hinges.

Now that you’ve chosen a hard shell case for your MacBook, you may be thinking of sleeves. Well, if you want a basic sleeve, you will be well served by any of the generic ones available on Amazon. I used a handcrafted one that I picked up in the UK on my original13 Inch Retina MacBook Pro for a good few years. But recently I’ve moved to “Thule cases and bags”. On one of my flights with my older 13 inch MacBook, a generic laptop bag didn’t offer the protection from pressure damage that was needed and I had a damaged MacBook screen. Since then, I surveyed the market and chose this product, the Thule Gauntlet sleeve for both 13 inch and 15 inch MacBook Pros.

Thule Gauntlet sleeve

I actually the used the 13 inch version for my iPad Pro 12.9 inch. It offers rugged protection and although bulkier than a cloth or fabric sleeve, I’ve had peace of mind when travelling with this item. It’s quite no frills though and beyond a protective shield for your device, it doesn’t offer any storage space for accessories.

Thule Attaché case

If you’d rather have a bag, then Thule has you covered once more. Because of my really nice experience with their sleeves, I tried out the Thule Attaché case for the 15 inch MacBook Pro. This is a really nice bag and offers the same protection as the Gauntlet sleeve but additionally has plenty of space for accessories and chargers and keeps the laptop separate from these. You also have the option of working from the bag itself, quite useful in situations at airports and such locations, where you don’t want too much clutter when working for quick few minutes.

Storage:

Now let’s talk about storage. If you want fast and lightweight storage for you MacBook, you can’t go wrong with the excellent Samsung external SSDs, the T5 and its newer T7 cousin. I’ve used T5 1TB variant for a couple of years now and really enjoy the 540MB/Speeds it consistently delivers and do all of my video editing off this drive. The newer T7 offers double these speeds, but at some additional cost. Both are excellent and deserve a space in your laptop bag. And being solid state drives, they are not only very compact, but also extremely rugged when compared to a spinning hard drive.

Samsung external SSD T5

So this was all about accessories for on the go computing with your MacBook. Now let’s look at accessories that make your life easier when working at a desk. With these accessories you can seamlessly transform your MacBook into a proper workstation.

Display:

32 inch 4K Benq display

Well, the most obvious one on this desk is the main event, the 32 inch 4K Benq display. This is the Benq EW3280U 4K display. Don’t confuse it with the EW3270U, which is a VA panel display whilst this is the real deal, an IPS display, which you really need with such big displays for good viewing angles.

Also anything smaller than this, and you will not be effectively able to run this at native4K resolution. Everything becomes too small for reading comfortably and even this one, I use it a pixel doubled 2560x1440 resolution that provides retina-like sharpness and still plenty of screen real estate. As a bonus, this comes with the best speakers on a monitor and a subwoofer, meaning I’ve thrown away my external speakers now.

It’s not perfect though, and the new M1 MacBook do have number of issues with it. Also, even though it comes with a remote, I’ve found this Tobe very unresponsive. I still recommend this display simply because it is one of the few good IPS displays in 32 inch size and 4K resolution at this price point, at least in India and USA.

Stand:

Laptop stand from TARKAN

The other item here is a laptop stand from TARKAN. It is a 360 degree rotating stand that elevates you MacBook to a comfortable height and allows you to have the screen open of closed as per your choices. I wanted access to the Touch ID sensor, so didn’t want to use the MacBook in clamshell mode and this was really perfect for the purpose.

If you get the same design by a different manufacturer, by all means go for the best deal available, as most of these are made by the same supplier and then sold with different brand names.

Powerhouse:

Caldigit TS3 Plus dock

You can use the Caldigit TS3 Plus dock peeking for your MacBook, this is the powerhouse that has enabled me to have such a clean desk setup. The first distinction between this and the USB Type C hubs we spoke of earlier is that this is a Thunderbolt hub and is actively powered by its own big power brick. That means, not only does it not draw power from your MacBook, but it can charge the MacBook at up to a full 87 watts and power all number of other devices and have just a single, neat thunderbolt 3 cable running to your MacBook. Unfortunately in my case, my Benq Monitor doesn’t run at 60 hz refresh rate when connected via display port cable that this hub offers or even its own USB type C cable.

Belkin USB Type C to HDMI adapter

So I’ve had to add another accessory to the back of this hub, and that is Belkin USB Type C to HDMI adapter. This is a great accessory that allows running4K monitors at up to 60hz resolution and offers pass-through charging for a MacBook as well. It actually comes in two variants, but make sure you choose new one, and not the older one that doesn’t provide pass-through charging.

Thunderbolt dock:

Caldigit TS3 Plus thunderbolt dock

The Caldigit TS3 Plus thunderbolt dock has really replaced a number of devices form and offers the single cable convenience that I was looking for. The only thing going against it is the cost, it’s really expensive and its availability outside of the US and Canada is not great. But if money’s not an object, and you want the best hub for your MacBook, this is it.

Mechanical Keyboard:

TVS Gold Keyboard

Now this is a mechanical keyboard, the TVS Gold Keyboard, which is only available in India and is based on Cherry MX keys. If you’ve typed on a mechanical keyboard you will know how great they are for typing. The downside with this keyboard is its Windows layout keys. And also, if you’re used to typing on the excellent Magic Keyboards of the latest MacBook or even the iPad Pro, there is a lack of consistency when you switch to this keyboard, as the keys are differently sized and take some getting used to. For this reason, I recommend both this style of mechanical keyboard and Apple’s own Magic Keyboard. It will boil down to personal preference on this one.

Mouse:

Logitech MX Master 3 mouse

Once again, you see the excellent Logitech MX Master 3 mouse and it is right at home on this large Scarters mouse mat. It measures90x45 cms and offers a great base to work on and is spill proof and easily cleaned and also reversible and comes in different colours on both sides. It’s recently had a price cut and really great value at reduced prices.

Scarters mouse mat

Monitor Arm:

The other item you see here, is the excellent Amazon Basics monitor arm, which allows a range of movement for your monitor whilst keeping your desk clean. It also offers cable management for a clean look. I’m not using it currently as I like the look of my new Monitor’s base stand, but I do use it add an additional screen from time to time. I’ve done an in-depth review on this, so do check that out.

Amazon Basics monitor arm

External HDD:

Seagate Backup plus Portable 5TB external HDD

Now when you’re at a desk, portability is less important and when it comes to hard drives, space and capacity take precedent. Here are two excellent choices, one is the Seagate Backup plus Portable 5TB external HDD and second is the WD My Passport 4TB portable external hard drive. Both are USB 3.0 and have spinning drives inside them. They are both available for great prices around the world and availability is excellent on any local Amazon site. It’s a great way to dump large files and use for backing up your MacBook. And USB 3.0 speeds mean that they are not painfully slow when it comes to file transfers.

WD My Passport 4TB portable external hard drive

Extension Cable:

USB type C extension cable by Stouchi

USB type C extension cable by Stouchi that are tricky to find, also they are uni-directional, so you can plug them in the wrong way. They only work when connected in one orientation, so make sure you try both sides when you use them. But what it does offer is the ability to hide USB Type C hubs away for a clean desk setup. If you don’t want an expensive Thunderbolt hub, this maybe a good way to achieve port expansion whilst keeping your desk clean.

Cable Management Tray:

IKEA Signum cable management tray

Finally, this is the IKEA Signum cable management tray, plenty long and strong and adjustable. Also easy to install as will ensure your desk looks pristinely clean and cable clutter free.

Since it’s from a well-known brand, availability and quality is generally great around the world. Thanks for sticking by till the end and hopefully you will find something useful from these accessories for your own use case scenario. There are many other e-commerce website to get best gadgets for you like www.gadgetworldusa.com. Let me know in the comments section, which ones of these you have or are planning to get or if you have an alternative to any of them.

Thank you very much for reading this Article.

#macbook air m1 #laptop #laptop accessories #mouse #laptop stand #gadgetworldusa #gadgetworld #external ssd #external hdd #usb extention #apple macbook

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sweetsmellosuccess · 4 years

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TIFF 2020: Days 1 & 2

Films: 5 Best Film of the Day(s): One Night in Miami

One Night in Miami…: I guess you could form an argument that basing a film on a pre-existing play would make the feature easier to put together, but that wouldn’t be taking into account the tremendous differences between the mediums, their relative strengths and weaknesses. For her feature debut, the Oscar-winning actress Regina King has cinematically adapted the stage play by Kemp Powers about a fictionalized fateful night amongst four famous Black men in 1964. Those men, Malcolm X (Kingsley Ben-Adir), Jim Brown (Aldis Hodge), Sam Cooke (Leslie Odom Jr.), and Cassius Clay (Eli Goree), are all in town ostensibly to celebrate Clay’s beatdown of Sonny Liston to first become the heavyweight champion of the world at the tender age of 22. But the film puts them all together in Malcolm X’s modest hotel room, watched over by Nation of Islam security men, to spend a night, essentially, debating the merits of what they bring to the struggle for Black equality and economic emancipation, and arguing back and forth about their distinct positions. Here is precisely where many play adaptations falter, without the dramatic friction of a live performance to power the emotional core, such conventions generally fall flat on the screen, but King’s virtuoso acting instincts serve her able cast well, and her work with DP Tami Reiker allows the film to flow, seemingly organically between its few location movements. Working from a skilled script by Powers, the celebrated figures feel three dimensional, which gives even their more didactic diatribes (Malcolm), and pithy rebuttals (Cooke) enough weight to avoid sounding contrived. The cast work wonders on the material, granting a needed organic vibe to their nonfiction characters, echoing the essences without tipping into caricature. It’s a strong debut for King, and the film’s complex ruminations on the responsibility of successful Black people towards their community as a means of bringing attention to the country’s oppression couldn’t be more on point. At one point Clay tells Cooke the four of them will always remain friends, because they are among the few who can possibly understand what it’s like to be “young, Black, famous, righteous, and unapologetic.”

Shiva Baby: Danielle (Rachel Sennott) is in the midst of having a day. Turns out Max (Danny Deferrari), the sugar daddy with whom she has frequently been visiting as part of her regular prostitution gig, is somehow a friend or cousin of the deceased at the same Shiva she has come to attend with her well-meaning, but completely overwhelming parents (Polly Draper and Fred Melamed). If that weren’t enough in Emma Seligman’s spry comedy, Danielle is also horrified to find Maya (Molly Gordon), a successful young woman she’s known for years, and a recent ex, also there. Crammed into the Shiva house, full of cousins and aunts and uncles all kvetching about everyone else, and being physically grabbed and moved about by her mother, Danielle faces this house of horrors, with everyone commenting concernedly on her weight-loss (“You look like Gwyneth Paltrow — on food stamps!” her mother hisses at her), and her lack of job prospects when she graduates, and her parents telling scathingly embarrassing stories about her in front of Max and his shiksa wife (Dianna Argon), whose 18-month-old baby, her mom says is “freakishly pale — and no nose,” with no respite in sight. As a result of this sort of hyper-scrutiny, Danielle goes the only route that makes any sense: Lying to everybody about nearly everything, from her current major (“gender business”), to the many job interviews she has supposedly lined up. She’s just trying to get through the ordeal, one that Seligman, along with a continually spiraling score from Ariel Marx, ratchets up, until, near the end, poor Danielle is in a near fugue state, sweat glistening on her face, and the attendees, shot in unflattering slo-mo, and distorted lenses, take on the sheen of a waking nightmare. At a brisk 77 minutes, the film still doesn’t have quite enough to sustain its running time — at a certain point it begins doubling back on itself — but it’s still a lot of horrific fun, as Seligman expertly captures the absolute loss of agency one can feel, swallowed up in a claustrophobic family gathering, where escape feels futile.

Limbo: If Scotland has a cinematic identity, as such, it seems like the kind of place, desolate and unforgiving, where individuals come to exit regular society and come to a land filled with eccentric loners (stoic and unique in their oddities), in order to get better in touch with their souls. Ben Sharrock’s serio-comedy captures both the pitiless beauty of the land, and the lonely plight of a Syrian immigrant, Omar (Amir El-Masry), waiting with a group of other men from across the Middle East and Africa, on an island off the mainland, for word from the Immigration Office that his bid for political asylum has been accepted. Omar, sweet-faced and approachable, was a musician by trade in his native Syria, and walks around everywhere carrying his precious oud, bequeathed to him by his grandfather, also a musician, even though his right hand is locked in a cast from an unspecified injury. Even without the cast, however, you get the sense that his heart really isn’t into playing, despite the entreaties from Farhad (Vikash Bhai), his Afghani roomie and self-appointed “agent and manager,” who wants him to enter a local music contest. Omar is carrying a significant amount of weight beyond missing his mother’s fragrant home-cooking. Talking to her on the lone payphone on the island, where other immigrants-in-waiting stand in line for a chance to hear from home, she implores him to speak to his older brother, who chose to stay behind in Syria and fight in the Civil War that has plagued the region for years. Omar feels guilty for having left, and suffers from having disappointed his father in the process. It doesn’t help him that the culture he finds himself in seems so foreign to him, despite his speaking flawless English. Sharrock’s brand of deadpan perfectly suits the setting, but as funny as the film can be (when asked in a culture/language class to create a sentence using the “I used to” construction, one immigrant offers “I used to be happy before I came here”), it doesn’t paint a rosy affirmation for Omar and his ilk, stuck as they are, as the title suggests, between countries and lives. Omar’s pain is real, and for every positive step forward he takes, it’s one further away from his family and his beloved home country.

Enemies of the State: Sonia Kennebeck’s challenging and curious documentary seems at first to present a case for its protagonist, Matt DeHart, a young teen hacker interested in social justice, who through his work with Wikileaks runs afoul of the U.S. government, and his beleaguered parents, Paul and Leann, who vigorously defend their only child against the evil forces conspiring against him. Through a series of personal interviews with Paul and Leann, both retired Air Force intelligence officers, who believe their country has turned against them for what Matt had downloaded from his computer into secret thumbdrives shortly before the FBI arrived at their door and confiscated all his equipment, and various lawyers they employed, first to protect Matt from what they claim as utterly bogus child-porn charges, then, after they slip away to Canada in the middle of the night, the lawyers trying to earn them asylum. While in Canada, under close supervision and confined to his parents’ apartment, Matt uses his charms, his hackavist bonafides, and his skill at PR, to generate enough interest in his case to become a digital cause celebe, along the lines of Edward Snowden and Chelsea Manning. Protests are fronted, defense funds gathered, and pressure put on the government to come clean about why they seem so hard-driving against the young man. During a peculiar reenactment set in a Canadian immigration hearing — Kennebeck employs actors who apparently lip sync their lines in perfect time with the actual recorded audio — DeHart describes a harrowing ordeal earlier in the affair, after having moved to Canada to attend college, being abducted by the FBI shortly after crossing the border to renew his Visa, and tortured for days for information related to the material on the thumb-drives. Some documentation seems to corroborate his claims (even Paul and Leann, as fierce supporters as can be, were shocked to see just how ready the FBI were to snatch him), but as the film continues, and we hear more and more from the investigators and prosecuting attorneys about the original child-pornography crimes, it becomes clear that our sympathies are being played with by Kennebeck. By the end, the film itself becomes an indictment of our rapid-assumption culture, in which decisions of guilt and innocence are determined in seconds online and forever after based on the presentation of information before us.

The Way I See It: For non Trumpites, the switchover from eight years of the dignified, intelligent, and measured leadership of Barack Obama, to the perma-tanned tackiness of power-mad, narcissistic bloviating of Donald Trump, was like a double-feature that went from Citizen Kane to Kevin James’ Loudest Farts. One man better than most to measure Obama’s time in office against the subsequent regime is photojournalist Pete Souza, who served as the official White House photographer for both of Obama’s terms, and has gone on to become an outspoken critic of Trump by way of his devastating IG account, in which he juxtaposes stately Obama photos with Trumps scandal-du-jour. Lest you think he’s just another divisively partisan liberal, you have to take into account his previous turn in the White House, as one of the official photographers for Ronald Reagan’s presidency. In fact, Souza’s fly-on-the-wall quality was considered one of his strengths in the oval office. Documentarian Dawn Porter travels with Souza as he makes the media rounds promoting his newest book, Shade, a collection of those IG photos that have earned him millions of social media followers (a sort of companion piece to his previous book Obama: An Intimate Portrait). Hauling from far-off India (where he gets a standing ovation before he even takes the stage), to domestic conferences and speaking engagements, Souza emerges as a man becoming more used to being out from behind his ever-present Canon lens. Through that lens, as he displays to his rapturous audiences, he has taken many hundreds of indelible photos, showing Obama’s various interactions with foreign dignitaries, his council of cabinet members, and his more raucous time with his two daughters (one shot of Obama with his girls making snow angels on the rear lawn during a heavy snow storm remains his computer screensaver, Souza says with pride). As Porter moves from talking heads to public oratories, Souza’s remarkable photos — brilliantly composed, and inspiringly intimate, having been given nearly unlimited access to the president — play throughout, showing us a collection of images that capture the inspiring hope the president inspired and the agonizing rigors of the job he was elected to perform. The film spends little time on his Reagan years, except to note how media and image-savvy the former Hollywood actor and his wife were (Souza professes no political ill-will towards the Reagans, other than noting that while he didn’t always agree with him, he was a genuinely caring man, who at least understood the parameters of leadership). At first, the film trolls Trump by a sort of subtweet level of backhandedness: Without directly naming names, Souza makes it entirely clear who he finds failing in comparison to Obama’s empathetic, engaging deportment, but by the time the film comes around to his notorious IG account, there can be no doubt the subject of his ire. Souza maintains it has less to do with his partisan feelings (his political affiliation is never revealed), and more the way he finds the current president’s undignified manner and total disrespect for the office and the leadership it demands unacceptable. Trumpers will of course take great exception to the portrait the film portrays of the sitting president, but even the most hardcore GOP folks won’t be able to help noting the blatant differences between the loving, genuinely close Obamas; and the preening, viciously competitive Trumps, each trying to outdo the others in acting as their father’s primary sycophant.

In a year of bizarre happenings, and altered realities, TIFF has shifted its gears to a significantly paired down virtual festival. Thus, U.S. film critics are regulated to watching the international offerings from our own living room couches.

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