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lils-writes-stuff · 4 years

Text

A Thin Line

spencer reid x reader

Best years part 4 | part three | part two | part one

summary: the team takes on a case in California involving home invasions. the reader has a surprise for her when they get back.

warnings: normal criminal minds things, mentions of racism and sexism (are those warnings idk)

A/N: based on season 7 episode 15; this ones cute ngl

“I think you should tell Spencer,” Penelope said turning in her swivel chair to Y/N who was sitting behind her.

“Tell him what, ‘Hey Spence, guess what, this girl who tormented me through my college life has come back to haunt me.’ Yeah, okay,” she said, shaking her head. She took a sip of the coffee in her mug, “And besides, there’s nothing really to tell him, she could just be trying to scare me, she loves to play mind games.”

“Well, you should at least tell him what’s going on, you’ve received two more notes from her since the night that you called me, and it’s been almost a month,” Y/N sighed knowing that Penelope was right. “And you guys have been going out for that long now, so I’m sure he’ll understand if you don’t want to tell him all about your past right away.”

“You’re right,” Y/N said, her finger trailing along the rim of her mug as she thought about when she should tell him.

“And you should also tell Hotch.”

“Tell Hotch? Why would I need to tell him?” Y/N asked looking up at Penelope.

“I think it would just be smart, you know in case something happens,” Penelope responded with a small sigh, remembering back to the whole Emily situation and what happened when she didn’t tell them.

“I’ll tell him if I get another note.”

“Okay, good,” Penelope said, then she smiled and began to get really excited. “So, you have to tell me, how have you and the good doctor been doing?”

Y/N giggled as she watched her friend get excited about her relationship. “It’s been going good, we’ve gotten to know each other a lot more on our dates, the other night we went to this museum, and at first I didn’t think that would be a cool place to go on a date, but then it turned out really romantic,” Y/n smiled as she thought back to the night of the date. Spencer’s hand grasping her’s as they roamed the halls of the museum. Her eyes trained on him as he spoke about the parchments in a case or as he explained in depth about the artifact on the wall.

“Oh my gosh, that’s so adorable!” Penelope exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Have you two kissed yet?”

“No, we haven’t, but I’m not rushing this, I don’t want to rush it.”

“Oh my- that is so mature, look at you, you're all grown up,” Penelope said, taking Y/N’s face in her hands squeezing her cheeks together. “I remember when you first joined the team, your 26-year-old self all antsy and ready to catch some serial killers. Now, look at you! 27 and so grown up I-”

“I’m 28 actually,” Y/N corrected Penelope with a laugh.

“Did we miss your birthday?” Penelope asked with a guilt written face.

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it, birthdays are just days,” Y/N said trying to reassure her friend.

“Don’t worry about it? You and Spencer both, he did the same thing awhile back on his birthday,” Penelope said referring back to when Spencer had turned 30. “And they’re not ‘just days’, it’s the day that you were born, they are wonderful days! We need to do something for it, when was it?”

Y/N just shook her head with a laugh before standing, “It was last week, but we really don’t have to do anything.” She tried to explain to the bubbly woman in the chair.

“No, we do, we are going to have dinner together as a family, and you are going to like it,” she stopped her rant when she saw her case alert go off and a text from Hotch. “Right when you get back from this case.”

--------

Y/N walked into the round table room smiling at her co-workers then making eye contact with Spencer. “Hi,” she said with school-girl glee as she took a seat next to him.

“Hi,” he said back, the light blush on his face growing.

“Y/N and Spencer, sittin’ in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-,” JJ began to sing the schoolyard rhyme.

“Shut up,” Y/N said giggling looking at the blonde who just laughed at her.

“Alright let’s get started,” Hotch said, taking his seat Derek and Emily following closely behind him.

“San Bernardino, California,” Penelope began as everyone opened up their tablets with the case file. “Two home invasions in less than a week, only a block apart, exact same M.O… Both houses were burgled, power and phone lines cut, and they broke in through a back window.”

“In each case, the entire family was shot and killed?” Spencer asked, eyebrows raised at the thought.

“Yes, that is right. I present to you the Mitchells and the Lewis family,” Penelope grabbed her remote from beside her, pulling the pictures of the family up on the screen.

“They took out the power and phone so what, they could feel isolated?” Y/N asked.

“The alarm system wouldn’t work and they couldn’t call for help,” Rossi explained the probable reasoning for why the power was cut.

“Most modern alarm systems have a backup generator and a cell phone connection to the security company,” Spencer said wondering why this didn’t happen in this scenario.

“Yeah, but the Mitchells had an older system, and the Lewis’ were behind on their account, so it was inactive,” Penelope explained.

“An assailant was killed in each case?” JJ asked, looking at Penelope next to her.

“Affirmative, but the sheriff hasn’t I.D.’d them yet.”

“So both families were armed, and fought back and shot one of their attackers,” Emily said looking around the table.

“Is that a coincidence or a connection?” Derek asked looking over to Emily.

“What concerns me is the frequency of the kills,” Hotch said looking up from his tablet.

“Only four days apart,” Y/N said looking at the dates.

“Alright, it’s a long flight, we better get going, wheels up in 30.” Everyone stood up and headed out of the room to grab their go-bags.

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

“Brian Mitchell was an avid hunter and Matt Lewis was an Iraq war vet, so it doesn’t surprise me that they both owned guns,” Y/N said looking up from her tablet.

“Last year, southern California’s inland empire ranked fourth in the nation in foreclosure rates. Typically, as the economy falls, the crime rates will rise,” Spencer said.

“Times are tough, desperate people do desperate things,” Rossi said, agreeing with Spencer’s statement.

“Greetings all,” Penelope said as she appeared on the screen. “Your herald bears tidings.”

“What you got, Mama?” Derek asked as he turned to the screen.

“The sheriff I.D.’d both the dead home invaders,” Penelope began to type on her computer pulling up some of the files. “First up is Alex Collison, twenty. Made an impressive list of bad life decisions before he croaked, included but not limited to...possession, a couple of drug charges, a card-carrying member of the Verdugo heights boys.”

“They’re gang members,” JJ realized as she listened to what Penelope was saying.

“Oh, he was, but slow your roll, home-girl,” Penelope said before she told of the next victim. “Because next up is Ronald Underwood, 19. Zero records, unless you want to count some volunteer work. Straight-A student, putting himself through school.”

“Not exactly the home invasion type,” Emily said.

“Both from a poor area of town, grew up a mile apart,” Hotch said while he looked down at the tablet in his hands.

“Hard to actually tell from the crime scene photos of how many assailants there actually were,” Y/N said as she swiped through the photos.

“Well, if it was gang-related, there could be a lot of them,” Emily said looking at Y/N.

“The homes that got invaded were on the other side of town, a predominantly white area full of middle-class families,” JJ explained the demographics.

“Hey, guys,” Penelope said, bringing the attention to her. “The M.E. report just came in, both of them had high levels of oxycodone in their system.”

“That’s strange. Violent crimes like these are normally associated with stimulant drugs,” Spencer said puzzled as to why that was.

“Like meth?” Y/N asked turning her head to look at Spencer next to her.

“Yeah, like meth.”

“Underwood’s as straight as an arrow,” Derek began. “Collison’s a garden-variety gang-banger. I grew up with knuckleheads like that, high-risk break-ins, and oxy, that’s not their M.O.”

“Regardless, we need to get ahead of it. The press has got a community on the verge of panic,” Hotch explained. “JJ and I will coordinate with the sheriff’s office, I want the rest of you at the crime scene.”

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

Y/N walked into the home of the Lewis’, inspecting all the blood on the walls. It almost felt like she could hear them scream for help and she so desperately wanted to go back in time and save them from all this. The shattered family photos and the torn-up house just made her feel so unsettled.

Y/N turned as she had finished with the room she was in and headed out meeting Emily in the hallway.

“You alright?” She asked as she saw Y/N’s sad face.

“Yeah, just family annihilators, they always hit me differently, you know?” She said as they turned and walked down the hall towards the stairs.

“Ballistics confirmed that the rest of the Lewis family was shot with the same 357,” Spencer said as he turned and watched Y/N and Emily walk down the stairs together.

“So if it was a gang, there was only one shooter,” Rossi stated after processing the information he had just received.

“The second and third victims were Trisha Lewis and six months old Blake,” Emily said.

Spencer shook his head at the thought of a six-month-old being killed.

“The injury patterns suggest that Mrs. Lewis tried to shield the baby with her own body,” Y/N said with a sigh trying not to let herself get worked up.

“Matt Lewis was found right here,” Rossi said with his hands pointed to the floor. “Ronald Underwood just over there-” he pointed to the blood spot to his left- “Underwood was shot eleven times in the head and abdomen.”

“But Lewis himself only had a single gunshot wound to the head at almost point-blank range?” Spencer questioned.

“How did someone get that close?” Y/N asked looking between Rossi and Spencer.

“He could’ve been subdued first,” Emily proposed.

“The M.E. didn’t find any signs of a blitz attack or struggle,” responded Spencer.

“Well, it had to be an ambush of some kind,” Derek said as he inspected some of the walls with blood spatter. “Probably when he was confronting Underwood.”

“But that’s almost impossible based on where the body was found,” Spencer said looking over at Derek.

“It’s right in the middle of the room,” Emily said as she looked at the bloodstains.

“It’s too out in the open to surprise somebody,” Y/N said agreeing with Emily.

“Matt Lewis wasn’t shot here,” Rossi said as he pointed to the spot where the body was found.

“No, but someone moved the body to make it look like he was,” Spencer said.

“Forensic countermeasure designed to make us think that these guys died in a gunfight that never occurred,” Derek said as he realized what probably happened.

“Bullet and blood everywhere, too messy for an accurate reconstruction,” Rossi said.

“Okay, so the unsub gets the drop on Matt Lewis,” Y/N said as she pointed to where Matt Lewis was found. “He then kills the rest of the family, and then leaves behind a drugged-up patsy to cover his tracks?”

“This wasn’t a burglary at all. There was a higher purpose here, they’re staging the crime scene as some kind of message,” Spencer said.

“This guy’s trying to make it look like black kids from the hood are killing white families, in white neighborhoods,” Derek said.

“Pretty powerful message,” Emily said.

“No kidding,” Y/N added as she shook her head.

The five finished up in the house and decided to head back to the station

“You good?” Spencer asked her as they walked out of the house, noticing how she was looking a bit upset.

“Yeah, yeah, I just can’t believe what happened in there really, family annihilators you know they just get to me, this one more than the others,” she explained to him.

“Yeah, this one is sad, I get it,” he said as he looked at her. “But we’ll catch him like we always do, and if you’re lucky you’ll get to put the cuffs on him.” The last statement was a hope to make her smile because he loved her smile so much.

It worked.

A smile crept up to Y/N’s face. “I might just do that.”

-----------

Y/N sat in the station the next morning. Head laying on her arms as she looked at the crime board on the wall. Another family had been killed last night, so they had been added to the board.

She stared at the victims of the first two families, they looked so much like hers. She saw herself in the shoes of the young girls, the memories of her childhood overwhelmed her. She lifted her head up and rubbed her face with her hands lightly, not wanting to rub the makeup on her face off.

The feeling of a warm hand on her back made her pull her face out of her hands. She looked beside her and saw Spencer as he sat down after taking his bag off, a coffee in his hand.

“You didn’t bring any for me, I see how it is,” Y/N said with a fake hurt expression on her face as she leaned into the back of her chair.

“Actually-” he pointed to her right side- “I did think of you.”

Her heart fluttered, “You sure know the way to my heart Spence.” She grabbed the large coffee cup and took a sip from it. The warm liquid running down her throat soothing her.

“Hey love birds, we’re about to give the profile,” Derek said leaning into the room they were in. The two stood up and made their way to where the rest of the team was.

“We believe we’re looking for a white male, in his late twenties to early thirties,” Hotch said, beginning the profile.

“Wait, wait, wait,” A deputy said quickly. “I’m sorry, I thought we were looking at black gang-bangers?”

“The unsub has been staging the crime scenes to make it look like black gangs and undocumented immigrants were responsible,” Derek said to the deputy.

“Why would anyone do that?” The deputy asked.

“We think he’s trying to create some racial conflict,” Y/N said hoping that was the best way to answer.

“In 1969, Charles Manson orchestrated the Tate-La Bianca murders, in the hopes of creating a race war between the blacks and whites that he referred to as Helter Skelter,” Spencer explained.

“A name he stole from a Beatles song,” Rossi added, the comment only being funny to the team since they knew that Rossi’s friends with Ringo.

“Members of the Manson Family left watermelon rinds at the scene of the crime and also painted panther paws on the wall in blood in the hopes of convincing authorities that the black panther was responsible,” Spencer continued on his explanation.

“Hate groups like the Aryan Nation believe that race war is not only inevitable but necessary,” Hotch said looking over the see of officers.

“Our unsub may be a member of one of these groups,” Emily added.

“Aryan gangs have a strong presence in prisons, so he may be an ex-con or even possibly related to a convict,” Y/N said.

“We think he may also be some kind of zealot,” Rossi began. “He believes his war is already being fought, and these murders are a mission to him.”

“And like a soldier, he is willing to put himself in harm’s way,” JJ added.

“The unsub may also be vulnerable somehow, weak mind, or even lonely. His cause gives him a sense of power and belonging,” Spencer said giving more depth to who the unsub might be.

“He’s physically fit enough to move dead bodies, so he’s probably young,” Derek said.

“But not too young as to be impulsive,” Y/N added quickly.

“These attacks took planning and focus. So, he’s disciplined,” Rossi said.

“He uses oxycodone to drug his unwilling partners,” Spencer explained.

“He does this without killing them, which shows that he is knowledgeable about dosages,” Y/N said.

“And oxy is expensive, so look at medical care professionals and caregivers, anyone with access to prescription drugs,” Emily said.

“This unsub is dedicated and driven, it makes him especially dangerous. Surrender is not likely part of his strategy,” Hotch said as the profile came to a close.

---------

“Hey Hotch, Y/N,” Derek said as he walked over to the two that were sitting at a desk going over some geographics to help Spencer with his profile. “There’s a mayoral race in town, and there’s a guy named Clark Preston all over the news.”

“Looks like he’s running a close second,” Y/N said as she looked at the tablet in Derek’s hand.

“Yeah, and check this out,” He scrolled down and clicked on the video.

“These vicious home invasions are a sign of the times,” Clark Preston said in the video. “As demographics change, so do crime rates. Now we may not be able to slow the browning of America, but we can sure as hell take our city back. And if you elect me, I’ll lead that charge.”

“The browning of America?” Y/N asked with astonishment.

“That’s a damn near hate speech,” Derek said as he looked at Hotch.

“He’s using the murders to further his campaign and I guess people are rallying behind it,” Hotch said.

“So what if our unsub is nothing like Manson? Manson never got his hands dirty, what if our unsub is more like his followers?” Derek proposed.

“You think he’s being manipulated?” Y/n asked pulling her legs up in the seat she was sitting in.

“Maybe even unintentionally, but either way, rhetoric like this could fuel his fire,” Derek said.

“We should talk to Preston,” Hotch said, nodding to the tablet.

“I already sent a car,” Derek told Hotch.

“Good,” was Hotch’s short response. “Y/N, do you mind talking to him with us, your knowledge in political science might help,” Hotch said turning to the woman in the chair.

“Sure,” she said with a nod.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am you’re here gentleman,” Preston said, not even acknowledging Y/N in the room. “Maybe now someone will stop these savages, what can I do to help.”

Derek looked at Y/N with one raised brow in question, after noticing that the politician in the chair wouldn’t even look at her. She just shook her head while she shrugged her shoulders and listened to what Hotch was saying.

“We were hoping to talk to you about some of your rhetoric,” Hotch asked as he looked at Preston across from him.

“My rhetoric,” Preston said, it wasn’t a question just him repeating what Hotch said hoping he heard him right.

“We believe the recent murders maybe hate crimes,” Derek said walking closer to Preston.

“Some of the things you say, well they maybe be construed as inflammatory,” Y/N said while she moved spots to stand behind Hotch.

“Agent Y/L/N’s referring to some of your recent campaign speeches and the references to the murders,” Hotch explained.

“We believe that whoever’s responsible for these crimes is impressionable and may be responding to the vitriol,” Derek said.

“You think I’m responsible?” Preston asked, turning to look at Derek.

“Nobody said that,” Y/N said crossing her arms. Preston never even looked at her when she spoke.

“If this person is motivated by racist sentiments, then what you are saying publicly may be affecting him,” Hotch explained making Preston turn his attention towards him.

“You’re profilers right?” Preston asked.

“Right,” Hotch responded.

“You study behavior, not actual facts,” Preston’s comment made Y/N sigh. “And then you come up with theories.”

“It’s really, not that simple,” Y/N said as she looked at the man. For the first time, he looked at her, and then he rolled his eyes at her statement.

“I’m sorry, who are you a secretary or something?” The blood in Y/N’s body boiled with rage at the question. She then watched Preston turn to Derek, “I’ll bet you had to work extra hard to get in the bureau, didn’t you? Probably still have to prove yourself on a regular basis. I respect that. I wish there were more like you.” He took small pauses in between each statement.

The man stood up from his chair and began to head towards the door. “I’ll cut back my media appearances, for now. But I suggest you start proving some of those theories of yours. And get some of those hard-working men to arrest those punks doing this.”

The way he said men made Y/N want to punch him so bad that she had to fit the urge to walk over to him and do just that.

“You gentlemen enjoy your day,” Preston then let himself out, once again not acknowledging Y/N.

“We should check out his list of contributors and his staff, it might be somebody in his camp,” Hotch said standing up from his chair.

“We need to check him out, too,” Derek said.

“No kidding,” Y/N said stilled enraged by the man. “Did you see what he was doing? Or more like wasn’t, he wouldn’t even acknowledge my presence and than he dared to ask me if I was a secretary.”

“The guy is no doubt a racist and is also very sexist,” Derek said.

“Oh yeah for sure,” Y/N said as she walked over to Derek by the door.

“Come on Pretty girl, don’t let him get you all riled up,” Derek said to her as they walked out of the room.

“I know, I know, it just makes me angry,” Y/N said as she and Derek walked over to the area where the rest of the team sat.

“What makes you angry?” Spencer asked as she sat down beside her.

“Clark Preston, not only is he a racist, and let that be known when he spoke to Derek, but also he is majorly sexist,” she grabbed a paper cup from the middle of the table and then poured herself some water. “The whole time we were speaking to him, he didn’t even look at me, and the one time he did he rolled his eyes and asked me if i was a secretary.”

“Are you serious?” Emily asked with disbelief.

“That’s ridiculous,” Spencer said while he shook his head.

“Uh-huh, you know Derek if he is a part of this, you know what would make me so happy,” She said as she turned to Derek.

“What’s that?” He asked her.

“If we got to arrest him, but I want to put the cuffs on him, just to let him know that a woman has power over him,” she said with authority.

Derek laughed before agreeing and promising her that if Preston was a part, they would do that.

The team sat scattered at various desks around the station they were at. Y/N stood next to Emily and Spencer as they looked over some maps of the area. Rossi sat at a large desk to left and Derek in a desk behind them towards the right.

“Hey, talk to me, doll face,” Derek said answering his phone to talk to Penelope, everyone’s attention now drawn to Derek and the woman on the phone.

“I got some dirt on your mayoral candidate, Clark Preston,” she spoke.

“He’s a politician, that shouldn’t be hard,” Rossi said as he walked over to be closer.

“Yeah, he’s a real estate lawyer who ran for city council last year and lost,” Penelope explained. “And he’s rich, as in if money was dirt he’d be filthy. He quadrupled his net worth in the last ten years, mostly from real estate.”

“So he managed to thrive despite the area’s economic downturn,” Spencer said in realization.

“What do you mean by mostly?” Y/N asked leaning closer to Derek’s phone so that she could be heard.

“Well, he is on the board of several financial institutions. Hedge funds, pension funds, oh, he likes to shuffle his money around. Even found some offshore accounts of his, I did,” she said giving what other dirt she could find on Preston.

“You only do that if you’re trying to hide it,” Emily said.

“What about his staff and contributors?” Spencer asked the woman on the phone.

“Uh-uh. No, they’re clean,” she said.

“Alright thanks, Garcia,” Derek said before he hung up the phone.“Preston’s a part of this, me and Y/N both think so.”

“Yeah you should have seen him in there,” Y/N said as she turned to Emily.

“He’s sexist, racist, and a little shady, maybe, but a murderer?” Emily asked as she looked between the two.

“It may be just a feeling, but I know he’s in this, we just need to figure out how,” Derek explained.

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

The next morning the team arrived to bad news, as another family was killed earlier that morning. Surprisingly this time, the guy the unsub would have left for the blame got away.

“His names Ramon Gomez, he’s an undocumented immigrant from Mexico City and he’s pretty freaked out,” JJ said as her, Y/N, Derek, Spencer, and Emily stood in front of the room Ramon was in.

“That’s pretty understandable,” Y/N said while she folded her arms over herself.

“Was he able to give a description of the unsub?” Spencer asked as he looked at JJ.

“Uh, just of the vehicle, his English is not that good,” JJ explained. “We put an APB out.”

Emily nodded her head, then turned to walk into the room with Ramon in it. “Hole, mi nombre es Emily Prentiss,” she said to Ramon.

The four others stood outside and watched as she interacted with the man sitting at the table.

“This poor guy,” Y/N said as she looked at the frightened man sitting at the table.

The three beside her hummed in agreement as the continued to watch and somewhat listen to what Emily was saying to Ramon. He pulled his arm out showing scars on his arm. He then got a look of realization on his face as he remembered more.

Emily then thanked him and walked out of the room to the other four.

“He remembers hearing a train and then loud music,” she said as she came to the four standing.

“That’s something, let’s get started,” Y/N said and the five began walking towards the area they had been working in.

“There are approximately two hours between Ramon’s abduction here-” Spencer pointed to one spot on the map- “and his escape here. He crossed the train tracks here. Now, given the time and distance parameters, there’s no way the unsub could have ventured outside this radius.”

“Okay, so he said the train was close, and he heard laughter and loud music,” Emily said.

“I looked at points of interest next to the train tracks and there really isn’t much. There’s a warehouse, a taco stand that would have been closed, and a bar called the drunken dog ” Spencer explained.

“Why stop there? He need a drink?” Rossi asked.

“He doesn’t seem like the drinking type,” JJ said.

“Yeah, he’s not impulsive or sloppy enough,” Y/N said sticking her hands into the back pockets of her pants.

“I live to serve you, sir,” Penelope said as she answered Hotch’s call.

“Garcia, what can you tell us about a bar called The Drunken Dog?” Hotch asked.

“Ooh, I like it already. Let’s see- uh- it’s been around thirty years. It was opened by a warehouse worker named Manny Gresham, upon his death six years ago it was bought by a hedge fund company called First Advantage.”

“Why would a hedge fund company want a bar?” Emily asked.

“Let’s see. Well, they bought it for a song,” Penelope began. “And, poor man, his medical expenses bankrupted him, I guess that’s why-- shut the front door.”

“What is it?” Y/N asked.

“Clark Preston is on the board of First Advantage, which explains why the bar is on a shortlist of local businesses that support Preston for mayor,” Penelope answered.

“Of course it is,” Y/N said as she sat down on the desk behind her.

“Okay we missed something, we need to go back over his staff and contributors again,” Emily said looking at Spencer beside her.

“They all came up clean,” JJ said.

“Garcia, look up DMV records and find every registration in the area that matches the description on the unsub’s vehicle,” Derek said to Penelope over the phone.

“Okay, 79 names and I’m way ahead of you, none of them match anyone Preston’s team-” she stopped. “What the what? Oh. I’m good at my job. Pamela Mills donates monthly to Preston’s campaign. Her son Trevor, his car matches the description, and it’s registered in his name.”

“Got a photo and an address?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, I do. I also have a place of work for Trevor. He is a part-time messenger, I’m sending it now,” Penelope said pressing ‘enter’ on her keyboard aggressively.

“Alright JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss take the workplace, we’ll take the house,” Hotch said dismissing everyone to go off.

---------

“What do you have, Garcia?” Hotch asked as he sped down the road, lights on in case they were stopped.

“Sir, I found the connection between the Mills family and Clark Preston. Ten years ago, the Mills were the victims of a home invasion. Robert Mills, the father, and 10-year-old Julie were killed. Pamela was raped, and now she has a lot of brain damage, that has left her in a near vegetative state,” Penelope said explaining the sad story of the family.

“What about Trevor?” Spencer asked.

“He hid in the closet and when it was over, he called 911,” Penelope answered.

“That’s why he stuffed that boy in the closet,” Hotch said referring to the last family that was killed.

“He was reliving his own victimization.” Y/N said in realization.

“He didn’t do that to the other children he murdered because he didn’t relate to them,” Rossi said.

“Garcia was anybody convicted of the crime?” Hotch asked.

“Yes, a Ronnie Green and Carlos Jackson. Both African American, both serving like in Folsom,” Penelope said before she continued with her story. “And then after the murders, Preston, he financially supported the family almost entirely. “

“So they’re close, he’s known the family for years,” Rossi stated.

“That must be how they’re paying Pamela’s medical expenses,” Spencer said.

“Yeah, it would be really hard to cover with Trevor’s part-time messenger salary,” Y/N added looking to Spencer beside her.

‘Yeah, I mean, it’s a top-flight policy,” Penelope said reading the health care bill.

“So Preston is playing the savior,’ Rossi said.

“And it looks like that monthly donation, that Pamela makes to Preston's campaign, is her disability check,” Penelope added.

“My guess is Trevor authorized that because he feels beholden to Preston,” Rossi said piecing together why that would happen.

“He probably Idolizes him,” Y/N added.

“So Preston is manipulating the Mills family to further his own agenda, he’s behind everything,” Hotch said coming to the conclusion that Preston was part of it all along.

“He took advantage of Trevor in a vulnerable state and made him trust and then brainwashed him,” Y/N said.

“Turned him into a killer,” Spencer added.

“Uh, guys,” Penelope interrupted. “There’s something else, Preston bought the Mills home after the invasions.”

The tires came to a screeching halt as Hotch pulled up to the Mills house. The four hoped out of the car, taking out their guns and walked to the front door.

Hotch pounded on the door, “FBI!”

When no answer came, Hotch pushed the door in and entered the threshold of the house. Y/N stood between Rossi and Spencer as they walked into the house. They then split up and looked around the house, Hotch and Rossi downstairs, Spencer and Y/N upstairs.

Y/N held her gun out in front of her as she entered a small guest room. She made sure the room was clear before walking out and meeting Spencer in the hall.

“You find anything?” She asked while she holstered her gun on her hip.

“Yeah, this note,” Spencer said as he inspected the note in his hand.

“Come on, let’s go find Hotch and Rossi,” She said before they walked downstairs.

“He’s not here,” Y/N said as she walked into the room with Hotch and Rossi. Spencer close behind her. Pamela Mills was seen laying in the bed not moving but looking at the four by her door.

“I found this in his bedroom,” Spencer said holding out the letter he found. “It’s addressed to her,” he said referring to Pamela.

“ ‘The price of peace is sacrifice, and I’m prepared to pay that price, no matter how high. I hope you’ll still love me.’ This is a goodbye letter,” Rossi said after reading the letter.

“Or a suicide note,” Hotch countered.

“He doesn’t profile as suicidal,” Spencer said in a hushed tone not wanting to disturb the woman in the bed.

“No, but he knows this could be his final mission,” Rossi said.

“He may want to go out in a blaze of glory,” Y/N said as she glanced at the woman in the bed.

“It’s all about the election, he’s only got one move left, we need to secure Mayor Wennington, I’ll have the rest of the team find Hilary Ross,” Hotch said pulling out his phone to call Derek.

They headed back out to the car and got an address for Mayor Wennington heading over to his house. Y/N walked up the front door, the three men with her following behind closely.

“Mayor Wennington?” She asked when the door opened and a white-haired man in a loose-fitting tie answered.

“Yes,” he responded.

“Hi, I’m Agent Y/N Y/L/N, this is Agent Hotchner, Rossi, and Dr. Reid, we’re with the FBI,” she said introducing the men behind her.

“Is this about those recent murders?” The Mayor asked with concern.

“Yes, sir, we have reason to believe you might be in danger, would you come with us,” she said gesturing to the car in his driveway,

“Yes, of course, let me grab my coat,” he turned around and walked ten steps to a coat rack to grab his jacket before he headed out the door with them.

“Yeah, Morgan,” Hotch said answering his phone while they walked to the SUV.

“We’re on our way to Hilary Ross’ house now, she’s still not answering her phone,” Derek said.

“All right, call local police, he’s not going to go quietly,” Hotch ordered.

“You have Mayor Wennington?”

“Yeah, keep me posted,” Hotch said before hanging up.

----------

The next day, Y/N pulled into Clark Preston’s campaign office parking lot with Rossi ready to arrest him.

“You want to do the honors kid?” Rossi asked Y/N as they exited the vehicle they were in.

“Absolutely,” she said with a smile, her wish from the previous day coming true.

“I hope this is a good enough birthday present,” Rossi said with a smirk looking at Y/N.

“Who told you? Penelope? I thought she would’ve dropped that by now,” she said with a laugh as she opened the door to the office.

The two agents walked back to the room where Preston was sitting.

“Clark Preston you’re under arrest,” Y/N said as she walked over to the man sitting at his desk. She pulled him out of his seat and placed her handcuffs from her pocket on him.

“For what?” He asked defensively.

“For orchestrating the murders of the Mitchells, Lewis’, and others,” Rossi said as he and Y/N began to lead Preston out of his office.

“What proof do you have?” He asked trying to find a way out of the situation.

“Voicemails left by Trevor Mills,” Y/N said shoving him when he stopped walking.

“Voicemail messages? That’s ludicrous, that boy is mentally unstable, always has been,” Preston said.

“Clark Preston you have the right to remain silent,” Y/N said, not only because she had to but because she really didn’t want to hear his pathetic excuses anymore.

“I’m Innocent!” He tried to protest.

“And please feel free to exercise that right,” Rossi said grabbing Preston’s other arm as he tried to move out of Y/N’s grasp.

“Anything you say can, and will be used against you in a court of law, you have the right to an attorney, if you can’t afford one, one will be appointed to you,” She continued as Rossi opened the door and led them out.

--------

“Come on, Spence please tell me where we are going,” Y/N asked, her arm linked with Spencer as they walked down the street.

“I can’t do that Y/N, you know that,” he said as he led her further down the road.

“Can you tell me if this has to do with my birthday?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh, come on, I told Penelope that we really didn’t have to do anything,” Y/N said as she shook her head.

“Well, I learned that you need to let them have their moment with you, cause they’re the closest thing you’ve got to family here until you have your own,” Spencer explained to her as he looked at her with a smile.

Y/N sighed in defeat, knowing Spencer was right.

“Oh look we’re here, can’t believe you didn’t notice where we were going before,” he said as he turned to Y/N’s favorite dive-bar in the downtown area of D.C. Spencer began to pull her inside but she stopped him before he could walk up the small stairs to go inside.

“Wait- Spencer, before we go in, I have to do something,” she said pulling on his arm making him turn to her.

“What is it?” He asked facing her with a curious look.

She replied by placing her lips on his in a gentle kiss. It was a kiss that made both their stomachs do flips. His hands reaching up to grab her face as hers gripped the front of his coat. A year and a half's worth of bottled up feelings were expressed as Y/N deepend the kiss.

“I just really wanted to do that,” she said to him after they pulled apart. A smile came on Spencer’s lips and he pulled her in again for a shorter but just as meaningful kiss.

“I really like you Y/N,” he said face still close to hers.

“I really like you too, Spencer,” she said back with a smile. “Come one let’s go in.”

The happy couple walked into the bar seeing their friends standing in a corner to the left of the door.

“There’s the birthday girl!” Penelope said as she saw Spencer and Y/N walk in.

“Happy Birthday!” They all said.

Y/N blushed as she approached the table, “Thanks, guys.”

The team laughed, drank, and danced till the late hours of the night. Even Hotch laughed and gave Y/N a hug as they all danced to the music. A smile stayed on Y/N’s face the whole night as she danced with all her friends and drank happily.

Spencer watched the woman he was beginning to fall in love with belt the lyrics to a Coldplay song that played through the speakers and dance with Penelope and JJ. Y/N looked over and saw Spencer staring at her at her and walked over to him.

“You know it’s rude to stare,” she said with a giggle.

Spencer laughed, “I wasn’t staring.” The blush on his cheek told Y/N otherwise.

She quickly grabbed his arm and started to pull him onto the dance floor.

“Oh no, I don’t dance really-” he tried to protest but Y/N wasn’t having it.

“You do tonight!”

She brought him to the dance floor Penelope and JJ yelling ‘Hi!’ over the music as they started to dance again. Y/N tried to help Spencer move less awkwardly and he eventually started to get the hang of it. Taking Y/N’s hand in his he spun her around and danced with her. A smile formed on their faces hoping the moment would never end.

tag list (let me know if you want to be added!!):

@throughparisallthroughrome @word-scribbless @nintendumbfuck @confused-and-really-hungry @justine-en

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds meme #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan

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littleghostlyrose · 3 years

Text

Because I'm really proud of this fic, here read it if you want if though though you all probably have no idea who da fuq is Amaya unless your my friend Bri (@lesbunnian) and what the hell is going on here fully or what the hell Amaya's past isor anything just DEAL WITH IT PLS it's a long story about the explanation.

But anyways this takes place in me and Bri's AU of the Drakengard universe and NieR universe so yeah this is technically AU stuff even if things aren't THAT immensely different. Uh. Kinda. So yeah.

Warning to all, if you do not like Grimoire Weiss x [Brother] Nier, I suggest you do not read! Even if it's mainly Nier x Amaya (my OC) there's still a tiny bit of Weiss x Nier in there so yeah.

I'll probably come back and fix the formatting a bit on my computer later so ye

Word Count: 3,026

He felt unworthy of even looking her in the eyes. Those beautiful ice blue eyes of hers that shone so brightly so often with so much happiness and kindness which he admired so much he felt unworthy of looking into. He felt unworthy of even being near her.

Why was this, you may ask?

Because he had failed her. He couldn't protect her or Kainé for that matter. He promised to protect them and yet in the end he ended up injured and bleeding on the ground in front of them as they huddled up together in front of a door trying to keep a ballistic Shade from escaping the room they were keeping it trapped in and which they eventually began being unable to keep contained to which they asked Emil to petrify them both so that the damned Shade wouldn't be able to escape and which Emil reluctantly did. Leaving Nier with only Weiss; a motherfucking sentient talking book; to keep him company whilst he drowned in his regret and grief.

As much as Emil wished he could, he couldn't stay with Nier; he had a home to return to and he had to find a way where he could unpetrify Kainé and Amaya both. For five long years, Nier was practically all alone, blaming himself for not being strong enough to protect Yonah or Kainé or Amaya. And for those five years, he trained hard and rigorously so that he would be strong enough when Kainé and Amaya were unpetrified and he resumed his quest to defeat the Shadowlord.

He swore he would not fail them again. He could not and would not if he could help it.

Then finally, the day came where Amaya and Kainé could finally be unpetrified. It was the first day of Spring; What a good way to start off the season, right? To defeat a jackass Shade that was the reason the two women you loved were petrified in front of a door and to tightly hug said two women once their unpetrified because you're terrified you'd lose them again!

Except that's not what happened.

What happened was Nier brutally murdered the Shade- the Jack of Hearts or whatever it was called, Nier didn't give two fucks- and avoided touching Kainé or Amaya except when Amaya practically leaped into his embrace and Nier flinched an avoided hugging her back despite nuzzling and leaning into the hug. Which he could tell caused her to be slightly shocked and worried, as Nier used to always return her hugs five years ago after he got used to her hugging him out of the blue.

But he just...didn't feel deserving of her embrace. He failed to protect her. Why should he be allowed to even be touched by her? To receive even the smallest of physically affectionate gestures? This was why he wore clothes that covered every inch of him but his face; he was punishing himself, practically. And trying to convince everybody else to punish him by using his clothing as a boundary to keep everybody from actually touching him.

To add to that, besides believing he didn't deserve affection, he also believed that he'd taint anybody he touched. He believed he was dirty, disgusting- someone who only tarnished anybody he touched and made them disgusting too. And because Amaya was beautiful, kind, sweet, and who Nier was completely infatuated with, he believed he should try his damndest to not touch her lest he tainted her.

And Amaya wasn't having any of it. But she couldn't do much of anything about it, until the incident that prompted Kainé to act like she was angry and kiss him, Amaya, and Weiss...somehow, and say that they're all dating now in her own Kainé way occurred. Long story short, Nier and Kainé had ended up in an argument about how much Nier had changed over the last five years, it resulted in Amaya and Emil both breaking down crying from the stress of not being able to do anything about it, Nier leaving the house intending to not drag his friends into his own failings anymore because he thought he only hurt them, then he got into a battle with a giant ass Shade and got pretty badly injured until Kainé saved his ass, and then he and Kainé apologized to each other and then they all got together after Kainé's roundabout angry confession.

Nier is still in disbelief even two weeks after the four of them got together.

A knock on the door roused Nier from his thoughts.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Amaya."

He wanted to tell her to leave, to not come in; not because he didn't want her coming in, quite the opposite, actually- he wanted her to come in and cuddle with him for as long as possible while running her hands gently through his hair and so much more- he just...he didn't feel worthy of being in her presence, still.

But after a moment of trying to figure out whether to tell her to leave or come in, Amaya came in on her own, startling Nier from his thoughts by so, so gently tapping his shoulder.

"You ok?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Do you need something?"

Nier doubted there was anything Amaya could possibly need from him, but he had no idea what else he was meant to say; thank god Weiss was asleep at the moment, he'd probably expose Nier's tongue-tied-ness and scold him for screwing up when around their girlfriend.

Girlfriend...the word felt so foreign to him, especially in reference to Amaya.

"I just wanted to see my boyfriend, that's all." Amaya smiled so brightly as she said that and Nier swore he felt his heart skip a beat and his face begin to heat up already.

"R-right…" God damn it, Nier wanted to kick himself for stuttering like that so badly, but he couldn't.

Amaya seemingly gave him a very faint worried look before she gently grabbed his hand, or at least tried considering Nier immediately recoiled as soon as she did that, pulling his hand from hers.

"...Actually, I came to ask about that," Amaya confessed, pointing at his hand which she had just to grab which had recoiled from her grasp.

"A-about what?"

She gave him this unimpressed look. "The recoiling and the flinching and trying to escape from most acts of affection I do with you, that's what. If you just didn't want to be hugged or touched for now, then why-"

"T-That's not it!" Nier says immediately, before mentally slapping himself for it as soon as the words left his mouth.

Amaya tilts her head and looks up at him with this expression of only confusion and some hints of worry.

"Then what is it? Why do you recoil and flinch? Five years ago, after getting used to my hugs, you rarely flinched unless I took you by surprise, but now you do it at even the slightest contact. What happened, Nier? Is it perhaps you not being used to me being back?"

Nier wants to agree with that, he wants to say "yes, that's it", because confessing he was afraid of tainting her and felt unworthy of even being in her presence let alone touched by her he believed was a waste of time because it'd just make her worry about a dirty, tainted idiot like him, but lying to her felt so wrong. He tried to go along with what she had said about him just not being used to her being her, but the words didn't leave his mouth and he just gulped and looked at his feet, kicking himself internally for how pathetic he was.

"Nier?"

"...It's not that."

"It's not?"

"...I…" Nier inhales deeply, trying to decide whether he really wanted to tell her the truth. "I'm...afraid of tarnishing you."

"...What?"

"You're beautiful, sweet, nice...the kindest person I've ever met. I'm afraid that if I touch you...that I'll only taint you."

Amaya went silent, before giving him this serious look.

"I'm already tainted. Not because of you," she quickly clarified before he would begin worrying that he had already tainted her, "I'm tainted beyond repair. There's not much you can really do that can taint me more than I already am."

Her unflinching expression and clear telling of the truth made Nier look at her in shock. This woman, who had been nothing but nice, considerate, gentle, and every other synonym for kind in the book to him, was…'tainted'?

...he didn't want to believe it. He felt his stomach turn and whilst he had not even asked how she was tainted yet, he just...knew it was in the same way he was tainted.

The mere idea that Amaya had been hurt like that made Nier angry. Whoever the hell hurt her, Nier at this moment wanted to kill them so, so badly. If they weren't already dead. But even then he'd find some way to punish them for having done the unthinkable to Amaya.

After hearing Amaya say that, Nier shakily then took off his gauntlet and glove on one of his hands, and hesitantly grasped Amaya's right hand, then putting his other, still covered hand on top of her hand which he was gripping quite tightly now.

Nier took notice of the light green nail polish that was painted onto her medium-long nails; it was a very pretty color, and Amaya had even painted a few little lighter green dots onto them too. A classic Amaya move.

As Nier gripped Amaya's hand, it was only now that he truly realized how small her hand was compared to his. So fragile. Delicate...it was a bit hard to believe that with these hands she had fought off and killed tens to hundreds of Shades with her sword and had punched several people in the face to protect Kainé with them as well.

As Nier stared at their hands, Amaya looked at him with a slightly shocked expression before making a very hard-to-spot smile as she put her other hand on top of his gloved hand.

"...I'll protect you. I-I'll promise I'll protect you, and I-I promise that I won't fail you again…! I won't fail any of you again…!" Nier shakily says determinedly, to which Amaya sighs.

"You never failed me or anyone in the first place, Nier."

"I did! If I had been stronger, smarter, better, then...then you have had to-"

"Shut up. Shut up, please." Amaya cuts Nier off suddenly, rarely ever saying such words to anybody, let alone him. She never was one for swearing like her comrade and now girlfriend Kainé; in fact, the two women were fundamentally so different Nier was shocked they were even friends let alone now lovers. Though given how Amaya is, it's also somehow unsurprising too. But either way, Amaya saying shut up is a rare thing that certainly made Nier go quiet as soon as he heard her say that.

"You didn't fail me. Or Kainé. Or Yonah. Or anybody. Because for me and Kainé, we chose to allow Emil to petrify us to hold that Shade at bay. It was us or the village. And you were injured, nearly fatally, and you don't have future vision. You couldn't have predicted that any of this would happen. And you were a child. A barely 16-year-old child. Doesn't matter if you're the resident Shade slayer of this village, you were still a kid. You shouldn't even be having to go on this journey in the first place, though for that matter none of us should've been considering all of us were kids, even me, even if I was 18 and legally an adult. But...nonetheless, please, please don't blame yourself for not being omnipotent and being a child and because of that unable to predict the Shadowlord would attack the village so suddenly and that you got so heavily wounded and just...it's not your fault and it will never be, ok?"

Nier went silent at Amaya's words, just staring at their hands, shaking before he let the tears he had been trying to hold back as Amaya had spoken fall. Upon seeing a few tears fall from his face, Amaya immediately wrapped her arms around Nier, and for the first time in years, Nier hugged her back, gripping the back of her beautiful blueish-green sundress tightly as he cried into her shoulder and she tightened her grip on him, even shedding a few tears as well, which Nier realized when he felt some sort of liquid fall onto his shirt.

The two of them stood there crying and hugging each other for who knows how long, and eventually their tears dried up, but even when they did, the two didn't separate from the hug. They elongated the moment for as long as they could, relishing in it and their love for each other,

"My word, I did not expect to see this when I awoke from my slumber!"

Until inevitably a certain white book would rudely awaken and interrupt the moment.

"Weiss!" Amaya and Nier said in surprise when they suddenly heard the Grimoire's voice, immediately separating from the hug to look over at him, although holding hands still, their faces red from both crying and embarrassment.

"We didn't wake you up, right?" Amaya asks, worried that she had disturbed Weiss's slumber.

"Worry not, for I woke up on my own, dear." The use of a pet name, even one as simple as dear, made Amaya blush more than she already had been, causing her to look away.

"Well, that's good," Nier states, making a small smile at Weiss.

"...have you two been to sleep at all?" Weiss asks, and if he had an actual face, Nier swore he'd be making some sort of unimpressed suspicious expression at the two of them. Although Nier couldn't really imagine what Weiss's face would have looked like if he were human; maybe something like the face Weiss has on his cover?

"I...no," Nier admits sheepishly, looking away, and Amaya shook her head as well, confirming Weiss's suspicions. Weiss sighs in frustration before he floats off the bed he was sleeping on and summons two black hands and gently pushes Nier and Amaya towards the bed.

"Then hurry along! Come on! You two need sleep!"

"Weiss, we planned to go to sleep soon!"

"Uh-huh, I don't exactly believe that, knowing you, Nier. Maybe Amaya planned to, but you tend to stay up until unholy hours even when you're tired beyond comparison. To bed with you!" Nier sighed in defeat at that until a realization dawned on him.

"W-wait, do you intend for me and Amaya to sleep in the same bed?" Nier asks, he and Amaya having been pushed over to the foot of the bed when Weiss finally stopped pushing them and the black hands he had summoned had disappeared.

"Well, we are in a relationship now. Why not? Though if you two are not ready for that I won't force you." Weiss says, surprisingly without any hint of his prideful arrogant tone for once.

"...I'm fine with it if you're fine with it," Amaya says, although she was quite clearly blushing bright red at the prospect of sharing a bed with Nier.

"...A-Alright. L-Let's try it," Nier says quietly, but before he can utter another word, Weiss once again opens his large mouth...or rather, his lack of one.

"Not in those clothes, you will! Go get changed into your nightclothes!" Weiss declares, making Nier and Amaya giggle slightly. Weiss somehow managed to be hilarious without even trying, perhaps because of his tone? Who knows, but either way Nier and Amaya finally let go of each other's hands and looked away from each other as they went to get changed. Weiss also of course looked away, although he'd be lying if he said he wasn't embarrassed when he realized they were changing in the same room...but then again where else were they meant to change? Why go through the effort of going downstairs to do it?

It only took a few minutes for the two of them to change into their nightclothes, Amaya of course wearing a pretty pink nightdress that was ruffly and cute just as she liked it, and Nier just threw on some random shirt and pair of pants that were comfortable to sleep in rather than wear some designated for the specific purpose of being slept in.

"...so…uh...er…"

"...uhm…"

"...oh for the love of all that is holy…" Weiss sighs at his partners' hesitance before once again summoning the same black hands as before and gently pulling them onto the bed, surprising the two as they fall face forward onto the mattress. They stare at each other for a moment before quietly adjusting their positions so they're properly laying on the bed next to each other. They stare at each other, blushing red once again, before Amaya notices Weiss laying on the other side of the bed and goes to pick him up.

"What the- why are you picking me up?"

"Because you're our lover too and even while you may be a book you can still sleep here with us too?"

"...very well." Weiss says, though it wasn't like he was putting up a fight against Amaya anyways.

Amaya smiles before she gives Weiss a small hug and then lays him down in between her and Nier, laying her hand on top of him before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as she tries to sleep. Nier does the same, laying his hand on top of Amaya's own hand, before he closes his eyes as well and begins drifting to sleep. Weiss just looks between the two of them and while he cannot physically smile, he still would be if he could.

All three of them slept well that night.

(And Weiss definitely did not just want this exact result to happen and that's why he suggested Nier and Amaya sleep in the same bed. Nuh-uh, no way)

Fin

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kph-01 · 4 years

Text

Diary of KPH-01 (part 4)

The interview

//Log

We reached Amargo Base in a few hours, the vehicle stopped inside an empty garage, there was no one to greet us and soon I learnt why.

The garage door closed and all the humans inside the vehicle stepped out, a large mirror in the wall turned transparent revealing the presance of four other humans in lab coats, presumably scientists or researchers.

"We are sorry for the inconvenience but we have to make sure you're not carrying dangerous pathogens or radiation. Please stand by"

A team of humans in hazmat walked in from a door next to the window, a few were carrying large devices, a closer inspection revealed them to be Geiger counters, gas detectors and others.

"Clear"

The researchers on the other side of the glass panel sighed in relief and used the speaker to communicate again

"We'll conduct other tests but for now you're free to enter, however decontamination is still required"

The hazmat team lead me and the other humans through the door they came from and sealed once we were all inside, an aerosol of chemicals was released at high pressure, the temperature rose by 5 degrees. The whole decontamination procedure lasted for a minute before we were allowed to enter the structure. The walls and the ceiling were white while the floor was tinted gray, as we walked we passed in front of several doors leading to other parts of the laboratory, Lieutenant Rodriguez remained next to me the whole time until we were accommodated in a waiting room, two humans in lab coats greeted me, a male and a female human.

"Greetings visitor from the stars! I'm Joseph Hughes, director of this research centre!"

He saluted me showing his hand, it was different from what I had seen and all other humans looked at him disdained.

"Director I doubt they are Vulcan..."

The female standing next to him whispered in the Directors ears.

"Whatever, whatever, this is a joyous day! Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Cola?"

The director was fawning over me and staring at my frame with morbid interest.

"No thank you, I do not need to drink and I couldn't even if I wanted to"

"Ah what a shame, please write that down Asami"

"Yes director"

The human female nodded and started taking notes on a clipboard. The director started circling around me

"Should we be aware of anything? Do you require anything to stay comfortable? Oxygen? Nitrogen? Water? Light?"

My opinion on the director was slightly altered as he showed genuine care for my well being.

"No director, my frame can function in outer space and in complete darkness, the only thing I'd need is to fix my telemetry and communication apparatus"

"ASAMI quick pull out the camera! Can we assist you in any way?"

Asami, reached for one of the pockets in the coat and took out a small camera, starting to film us.

"It would normally require me to connect to UniMatrix but I'm currently disconnected... I require a computer..."

The director gestured me to wait a second before dashing out of the room almost tripping on the door frame, he came back with a laptop and followed by another researcher who appeared to be quite altered

" I NEED THAT!! "

He shouted at the director while he ignored it.

"Here use this"

He presented me the laptop, breathing havely. The other researcher stood still staring at my with his mouth agape, curious.

I took the laptop and inspected it, the fastest way to share data was to use the USB port so I proceeded to grow an USB cable from my hand, connecting to the port in a quiet click. Soon the people in the room gasped in surprise, was I not supposed to do it? They aren't stopping me and Asami is still filming.

I transferred part of my internals inside the computer and modified the note pad program to be able to read my data.

Errors, errors everywhere. My internal code is garbled and nonsensical just like I predicted, the impact must've sent an electromagnetic pulse through my system. I delete everything and replaced it with what was supposed to be, writing it by hand on the keyboard.

I uploaded the file back to my system and my communication link was promptly restored.

"I am no more a unit, I am we. We are part of UniMatrix"

The humans around me held their breath while we gave the laptop back to the director. A massive flow of data was sent us by UniMatrix and we replied back with all the informations gathered. Within a second we were updated, our body frame is now resistant to electromagnetic pulses, ballistic weapons, explosions and hacking.

The director was shaking and so was Asami, they stared at the computer screen reading the file I wrote.

"What is this? code? You are machines??"

"correction director, we are a hivemind entity, our physical form is determined by the conditions of the environment, we are modeled after a human body due to its versatility in this ecosystem, as well as to ease your perception of danger."

After our statement nobody dared to talk, Asami had stopped filming and was looking at the director for instructions.

" THIS IS MAGNIFICENT! EXTRAORDINARY! TERRIFIC! "

Director Hughes exploded in a display of euphoria. His brain was flooded by chemicals and adrenaline.

"ASAMI QUICK CALL EVERYONE!"

"everyone director? What do you mean..?"

"Oh Asami I mean everyone! NASA, SETI, the secretary of state, the CIA, all of them, we need to start diplomatic relationships as soon as possible!"

Colonel Miller stepped in and pulled the director aside, they had a brief discussion and they both came back a little less euphoric.

" We won't call NASA, not until our diplomatic relationship are established. "

We and UniMatrix were amused by the reaction of humans, secrecy again, something so odd from our point of view.

"Tomorrow we'll have a conference with the representatives of their agencies, for now we're forbidden to ask any more questions, someone please lead them to a guestroom and provide them whatever they need and we are allowed to. We'll see again tomorrow!"

The director stated before leaving the room, the soldiers were looking at Colonel Miller, what he said was probably the cause of the mood drop

" This way please "

Asami slime and led us to a guestroom, a simple two room apartment with a bathroom and a bedroom, nothing else. We don't require sleep but we appreciate the free time, we'll be in contact with UniMatrix.

"Goodnight"

Asami waved and closed the door behind her after leaving, we were left alone by humans, we could explore the internet to our will.

Joseph Hughes, human male, light skin tone, old age, long curly Grey hair, light body, wear glasses to correct vision deficiency. Director of the laboratory inside Amargo Base.

Yoshida Asami (Last name, name) female human, Asian skin tone, long straight black hair. Director's assistant.

#humans are aliens #humans are weird #humans in space #science fiction

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andhereisthetea · 4 years

Text

A Personal Opinion: labeling Entrapta

I am very conflicted and also quite annoyed by the way fans have mentioned in the past and present Entrapta is asexual just for the fact she doesn't show sexual attraction nor desire like normal people do, nor she is sexualized nor romantic or even touchy with anyone around her.

I am often very tired by the labels people usually likes to give to characters that doesn't exhibit the normalized behaviours we see in society.

The fact is that, for me, describing Entrapta as asexual is increidble simplistic and overlooks most of her complexity as a character. And also shows how most people thinks that a 'sexual behaviour' is sexualy connect with everyone in their surrounded, so people who doesn't experience or doesn't want to experience such things are just labeled as asexual, which is unhealthy and incredible ignorant about sexual physiology and psychology itself.

Surprisedly was not the same thing with her autism, I am more accepting of this fact because I have studied it and is actually well portrayed.

I have never been diagnosed though, but don't like people, I have to admit, most of the time they don't understand what I talk about and what subject I want to debate, they see me as this weird or even too damn monotonous-talking person who doesn't seen to think normaly, who doesn't see to express herself normally, and they don't seen to know what to do with me around. I have never had a sexual partner, nor I've had interest in having one, UNTIL I started to connect with people in University and realized that I was in fact not asexual but my attraction is related to my connection with people.

Most of the time I feel people are too simplistic to understand what I feel or what I say, the same way Entrapta got bored by Catra when she asked for a more simple explanation of her scientific methods. Knowledge and hobbies I like to talk about goes from medicine to computer sciences and astrophysics, and also medieval history, I am a bachelor in ancient history and currenting studying anthropology/archaeology and computer programming by hobby because I enjoy it. I am not someone who is easy to be loved, nor I am someone who wants to have contact with people that I don't feel connection with.

The way she goes BALLISTIC when she talks about First One's tech is the same way I felt so much emotions over the possibilities of having my first Rapsberry Pi as a birthday gift, something I could even use to create robotic in the future. I know how it feels, to look at something so intrincate and precious and so damn complex and feeling is worth more time in the world than having people around you who will never understand.

The way she behaves around people makes me feel incredible related. For me showing desire or attraction or even romantical desire to people I barely meet is absurd. And to show or dress myself in a hypersexualized way or just show skin seen wrong and not my personality at all. And having a big genius or being intelligent over the average doesn't mean you are asexual, it means everyhing gets more complicated with how you relate and feel things around you, and most people like to label you with concept, right? It makes me fucking cry every time, most people likes to label others, like me, with a simplistic category that doesn't seen to describe the whole spectrum of things I feel about the world, just because they like to categorize humans that doesn't experience things like normal people do, right? And I have spent so much time feeling I was broken, that I couldn't feel anything at all, that my friends abandoned me. But then I got to the point in at 18 years old when I realized I was not broken, I feel things differently, I could feel desire, and I could feel sexual attraction, but not with the people I am usually surrounded by. I had to break my confort zone to feel it, because the group around me weren't the people I was destined to connect with.

And that is EXACTLY what Entrapta experienced with Hordak, quite literally when she ended up in the Fright Zone.

Some people I've meet thinks that behaviours and clothes, fucking clothes, are what defines sexuality. I like masculine clothes and I don't like feminine behaviour but I am not lesbian, and also I don't go in life touching or invading people's spaces, or trying to flirt with others because is just a waste of time, and still some people thinks that being asexual is exactly those things, or having a complete lack of sexual or romantic desires, or is equal to be celibe and frigid, when media and society usually push for women to be sexual and explicitly romantic, pretty, feminine and emotional or touchy (gross if you ask me).

Also the complete misunderstanding than the only kind of sexual connection one can have is related to body attraction and tactile stimulation is frustrating the shit out of me. I have experienced attraction and desire over a guy talking about philosophy, and not by a dude who goes to the gym who I find just blatantly brute.

Entrapta didn't need to convince me, she became my favorite person from the beginning, her passions, her emotions, her nonstop lust for tech, her obvious desire to stay with Hordak, her entusiastic nature, all of that is so damn complex and comes with layers and layers of years of building up her complex personality in loneliness. She finally CONNECTED with someone and now she is incredible passionated about that.

The brain and its capabilities for me are sexualy attractive, the way someone can behave around, like Hordak does and how he uses complex words, commanding people, is both stoic and passionate, and has more knowledge over the universe, technology and multidimensional space IS sexualy attractive, that is the reason I stand by the fact that Entrapta is not asexual, but her sexual desires are related to other things rather than the simplistic desire of superficial attractiveness that comes with impulsivity and lack of common sense I see in most people my age.

I had no desire to experience my own sexuality with someone because I just didn't care, and I am too beyond my 20s to even label what I feel, that is just limitating myself.

And Entrapta is such an amazing and wholesome creature, she is a genius between the whole crew, she is passionate and fierce, calling or labeling her whatever thing is to limitate her or reduce her to a word that doesn't seen to grasp her whole complexity as an individual.

I am closer to her age and I know it it feels when you just gave up friendship. When you spend your teenager years not connecting (nor romantic or sexualy) to anyone around thinking is because you are not destined to that, and then suddenly something happens in your system when you meet the right person, and you realizes is not that you were asexual, is that the way I experience sexuality is different and more complex, it needs X and before people just gave me Y, and that is not asexuality, is an spectrum of sexuality which is different from people to people, because not everyone will experience things the same, and categorizing a whole spectrum of people in only one concept to try and explain how those people feel and why is just ridiculous.

For me Entrapta is someone who would enjoy her sexuality and intimacy in private, who uses the clothes she uses not for her sexuality but because she is like that, who desires to have a personal space, and wouldn't share it with whatever people she meets, and who can value things like scientific knowledge the same way she values friendship and ultimately love.

Labeling her with whatever concept or category is just limiting her to a word, she is beyond that, I do not believe that a single post, nor a single planet, could contain the complexity that I have seen in her.

#too much personal but I am too old to care #entrapta #entrapdak #meta #mypost #spop #spop entrapta

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ask-de-writer · 4 years

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CAPTURED BY THE CLANS : Part 10 of 10 : Science Fiction

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CAPTURED BY THE CLANS

Part 10 of 10

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

18231 words

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All of the Feront creatures, T’cass and Lezon piled into the Feront shuttle and quickly became a vanishing speck in the sky.

The salesperson shook her head and asked, “What makes that pair so special? I’ve never heard of anything like that. What do they play at?”

Wryly, K’ress said, “Computerized space battle simulations, virtual reality hand to hand combat, even board games. As far as I know, they are the only ones that the Feront plays with.”

Shaking her head, the salesperson commented, “It’s hard to imagine that thing playing. There’s two city ships of it up there with enough fire power to knock out a battle fleet and it’s still one thing. I can’t imagine it.”

Six hours later, tanks filled with water for reaction mass, the D’ancer was ready to launch. Beside the crew ladder M’rel calmly and K’ress impatiently waited for the Feront shuttle to land. It was so silent in its approach that it took both of them by surprise.

They found the explanation for that when the canopy lifted and they saw Lezon dismounting from the pilot’s saddle. K’ress overheard her explaining, “. . . and that’s how you can avoid detection without any fancy equipment.”

The Feront replied, “Was that how you separated me in the Contact/Conflict?”

“In part. I used some other tricks, too.”

As she and T’cass joined their friends at the foot of the ladder, K’ress couldn’t resist asking, “Does the Port know that the shuttle has come down?”

With a feral grin, Lezon replied, “They do now! T’cass notified the Control Bunker once we were on the ground. Let’s get going before they figure out that it was us!”

In the control room, M’rel asked, “Do you know how to lift this leaky tachyon bucket, T’cass?”

Finished strapping into her crash couch, T’cass replied cheerfully, “Nope.” She gestured at Lezon, who was already setting up the launch sequence in the computer, “She does, though. If anyone can get this thing up, its Lezon.”

T’cass settled deep into her crash couch and serenely shut her eyes, gone into the calm retreat of a Warrior’s Way Meditation.

K’ress noted wryly, “That’s one hell of vote of confidence. Is there anything that I can do, Lezon?”

“Yes,” was the prompt reply. “Take the couch just to the left of mine. It’s engineering. I want you to monitor the pump pressure. We need at least four hundred kg/cm^2 all the time. We can run as high as six. If any pump falls below four, make it up with raised pressure in the ones that are left. Also, keep an eye on the power capsule. We need a steady twelve meg output.”

Lezon turned to M’rel and said respectfully, “Ma’am, you know how the Comm panel works. Strap in there and raise the Control Bunker. Let them know that we are ready to lift, per certificate T.C. 404-GT76. Warn them to clear the area because we are using a reaction drive. We need a totally clear traffic lane because, after launch commit, we cannot maneuver away from our ballistic course.”

M’rel sat and secured her safety harness. She reached out and activated the Comm. Smiling her best professional smile, M’rel stated, “Hello, Control. This is D’ancer, T.C.404-GT76. We request clearance to lift. We are on reaction drives with inertial assist. We need a totally clear traffic lane to orbit, as we cannot deviate once we commit. Be sure the pad zone is clear. This thing has a hot exhaust.”

A grizzled veteran with scars visible through her mane, replied, “This is Control. The notion that you are actually taking up that hundred and fifty year old antique has drawn news flitters and a camera crew on the ground. They have set up at the north side of your pad. Watch out for the flitters. You can lift at will.”

M’rel replied tartly, “Oh good! I’ll get a lot of work out of this lift off! I’m a reconstructive medical specialist, you know. I’ve had to be doing Barbeque Cats from the War. Those news tapers will make well paid private work at last!

“Um, the rest of the crew just said that we’ll give them twenty minutes to notify their next of kin or clear out to at least 800 meters. Let the news flitters know that the wake and exhaust of something this big, driven by reaction engines, will splash them all over the field if they get closer than 900 meters.”

Control actually grinned and said, “I like your style. I made them listen to the clearance chatter. You just warned them. They have twenty minutes to get clear. I wish that you could see it. They’re scrambling like ants when you turn over a rock. One of the flitters is actually moving in for a close up. I just sent them a canned get-clear warning.”

K’ress was running engineering checks on the ancient systems, familiarizing herself with them. Lezon joined T’cass in meditation. At four minutes to lift, both Lezon and T’cass came fully alert.

Lezon smiled approvingly at K’ress and said, “I see that you spent your time well.”

“Thank-you,” K’ress replied. “The drive is preheated and the pumps are up to pressure. That old capsule is working better than I hoped.”

M’rel called Control again. “Time is up. Lift Commit is initiated. Engine core is coming up to operational heat. Reaction mass pumps are on line. Call you from orbit!”

Enormous box shaped air scoops opened out from the sides of the tall, ancient, winged projectile-like vehicle. Steam began to blast out around the base of the ship. A moment later, the steam turned to a screaming, almost totally transparent blue-white glare of flame. The D’ancer, nearly as tall, if far less massive than a military Siege Ship, lifted smoothly, appearing to barely move at first. Suddenly gathering way she leaped straight up into the sky. The concrete pad where she had been sitting was cooling and cracking off glazed bits of fused, glassy blast scar.

One reckless news flitter did get caught in the supersonic wake of the monster that was screaming past on its way out of the atmosphere. Luckily the flitter’s pilot had fast reflexes and they recovered control a good seven meters above the ground.

The D’ancer rolled out at 15.5 kilometers and began to accelerate even more. She was eating all the air that the scoops could grab for free reaction mass along with the water that she carried. Besides speed, the D’ancer was gaining altitude, running ahead of a big plume of vapor. She continued to climb, coasting on inertia now. The antique engines had shut down exactly on their mark. On a shallow angle, the D’ancer rose up to a low orbit.

Lezon checked her course and made a low acceleration correction to regularize the orbit. There was no onboard artificial gravity. It was hard to realize that something so basic hadn’t even been invented when the D’ancer was built. Everyone was experiencing the sensation of free-fall. Lezon and T’cass were moving about the D’ancer with practiced ease. Small combat ships didn’t waste energy on artificial gravity either, so both were familiar with the feeling. K’ress, as an engineer, was at least used to it. M’rel was quietly curled around her tummy, being miserable.

While Lezon and T’cass were busy, K’ress noticed a ship approaching, matching their orbit. She hit the intercom and her voice rang out through the ship, “We have company! Intercept in fifteen minutes.”

The Feront activated the visual communicator. Several reptilian heads scanned about, focusing on Lezon and T’cass. “My friends! It is good to see your entities again so soon.

“You fulfilled your promise to come and bring your ship to me for salvage and refit. I will carry out my promises as well. While I work on your vessel, we can play! This time, I believe that my strategy will prevail!”

M’rel opened one eye and stared balefully at the others, cheerfully chattering away and said, “I have two questions. One, does this feeling of nausea ever actually get better? Two, why is the Feront always saying that it thinks that it will beat you?”

T’cass responded, “You will get used to the free-fall soon enough. Just orient by eye and forget about your ears.

“As for the Feront, it’s simply being utterly honest. It does think that it may beat us and says so. It’s right about twenty percent of the time, too. It enjoys playing and doesn’t get the chance very often.”

Just then, the Feront chimed in on the communicator, “I will be using a gravitational grapple to remove your vessel to the working and salvage area. Please secure. Down will face my vessel.”

Lezon looked sympathetically at M’rel and requested, “This vessel was designed for gravity along the line of thrust. Could you orient your tow that way for the comfort of one of ours?”

The polyphonic voice replied, “Certainly, friend Lezon. Field is now building.” Gently up and down returned.

K’ress brought M’rel an antinausiant. M’rel sipped gently and remarked, “Someday, somebody will invent something to stop stomach heaves that doesn’t need to go into a stomach that already can’t hold it.” She smiled wanly. “I like the Feront already, just for being considerate.”

“It can be, when it wants to be,” acknowledged Lezon, “but if you are going to deal with the Feront you need to understand that it will often not think of you at all. Remember, it has been a single thing and living in space craft for at least four million standard years. In all of that time, it had never encountered another intelligent entity that it recognized as such. As a result, it has only a little experience in dealing with others that are not itself.”

M’rel nodded, interested and focusing on something besides her now subsiding nausea. “I see. How can it stay one thing over interstellar distances? Does its mind have a faster than light way to communicate?”

Lezon answered, “That is best demonstrated. Pour some water into a drinking bowl and get a second bowl.”

Mystified, M’rel did as asked. Lezon took the bowl with the water and said, “This is the Feront.” She poured some into the empty bowl. “This is still the Feront, only now it is in two parts.” Pouring the two back together, she added, “Now, the Feront is one thing again. So far as it knows, it was never two. Both the separation and the merging are not conscious actions and are totally without trauma. There is a particular distance at which it simply separates or merges, that’s all.”

M’rel shivered all over at the thought. “The universe is strange,” she quoted from a Clan Precept.

Lezon surprised her by finishing, “And in that very strangeness lies all of the riches of life.”

“You know the Precepts?” M’rel questioned.

T’cass cut in, “Of course. How can you understand a conflict if you do not grasp all sides of it?”

K’ress put in, “You mean something like knowing your enemy?”

Easily, Lezon replied, “Yes, but that is very incomplete. All of life is conflict, even friendship is the management of conflict. Thus, you must understand all that you can of everything about you if you are to manage the conflict to the best good of all.”

“What about your enemies? Do you consider them?” K’ress asked sarcastically. She was not prepared for the answer that she got.

“Of course. Their lives are as valuable as your own. Otherwise, the conflict has no value or meaning at all. As soon as the armed portion of the conflict is over for them, they must be protected.”

K’ress snorted at that and retorted, “What about the crew of the signal laser at K’stall? That was knocked out and helpless. A cruiser wiped them out later.”

“Right,” agreed T’cass. “And after the battle, War Leader Lezon sent the captain home to M’cratt in disgrace. The Empress Triad ordered the captain executed for violation of the Warrior’s Way. We heard about it on the Strategy Board.”

About then, the Feront came onto the communicator. “I have brought you to the place of work. It will be best if you come into my vessel while I work on yours. Your input will be desirable from time to time in regard to the life support system and its amenities.”

During the refit, M’rel and K’ress shivered and stayed close in their quarters. The Feront liked cold places, arctic regions and ice worlds. Its idea of warm was still more than a bit cool.

T’cass and Lezon didn’t seem to notice. They went scampering off with Feront in tow. There were games to play and mock combats to enjoy. They showed up irregularly for meals and to cuddle up in a warm fur pile to sleep.

The Feront always seemed to have time for its guests. It courteously answered any questions except for ones relating to how the big city ship worked. The Feront would only say that the fusion system that drove it operated on a different principle than the ones used by either the Clans or M’cratti.

K’ress and M’rel spent a good deal of time going over the details of their ship’s refit. Doing so revealed that both T’cass and Lezon had ideas about creature comfort that were at odds with their Clan raised partners. The Warriors cheerfully yielded on most points but both insisted on a liquid exercise tank and a gymnasium.

The antique ship’s monster fuel tank became three cavernous holds and a serious group of maintenance shops for metal, electronic and tachyonic equipment. The power capsule had been replaced. K’ress’s practiced eye noted that it was one from a capital ship and far bigger than would normally be needed for a freight hauler. The drive was one from a fast messenger ship that had been pretty badly shot up. Her eyes widened when she saw the specs.

This vessel was no longer an antique. The fore and aft gun emplacements were not large by most standards. There were seven five kiloton per second weapons in each battery, the most firepower allowed to their newly assigned Class B freight designation.

They needed only to stock the galley and seek a cargo to begin their new life as the Clan D’ancer. Lezon reflected that since the war was over, so was her service to the Empress Triad. She hadn’t surrendered, she was Submitted to T’cass. The others came with her. The Clan D’ancer was as good a place to be as she could find. This new way of life would be an interesting Conflict to manage.

–THE END–

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#CAPTURED BY THE CLANS #Part 10 of 10 #Science Fiction #Written by De Writer

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littlesliceofmarvel · 5 years

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Manipulating a God | chpt. four

Synopsis: Trying to break the information out of Loki during the attack of 2012 wasn’t exactly the easiest task, but it was a challenge you were willing to take head on. So, what happened when a master manipulator tried to get information from the God of Mischief?

Series warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence, blood and gore

Pairings: Stark!Reader x Loki

A/N: sooooo. i am sooooo sorry it has been so long. there have been many personal/school/work issues the past few weeks and i have neglected this. :( But, I am back and very excited to continue. So, i hope you all enjoy and thanks sososo much for you patience i love you all. xoxoxoxoxo

Since agreeing to the case of investigating Loki, the entire team had been throwing tidbits and important information your way any chance they could get. You told them you were listening, jotting down everything in your mental notepad, but honestly, you were more confident about the whole thing than they thought. Thor was the only one who seemed to believe you could handle it yourself. Of course, he didn’t view Loki as a murderer the same way everyone else did, but he was also the one who really knew what Loki was capable of.

Thor told you a lot about Loki’s history and childhood; a frost giant, taken in by Odin, given the impression that he could eventually rule, living in incredible self-doubt, all that jazz. Small, personal things you hadn’t found on Google. You debated questioning him about the whole ‘Loki fucking a giant wolf’ thing but figured that that wasn’t information you needed - nor wanted - to know.

Tony on the other hand wanted to stop you as best as he could. He even tried locking you in your room once or twice (or five times.) Of course, he was fully on board with dragging Loki through verbal (and probably physical) Hell to get information that was desired, but he was worried you would fall victim to his lies and lose your mind, and in his words ‘have a Joker-like descent into madness.’

You couldn’t say you had the same vision, but we all know Tony can be quite the drama queen.

Steve, who you now trusted more than you thought you could, told you he’d be there for you if ever you needed help. Apparently being a part of the second World War could help this situation, so he offered you some strange advice on how to hold your ground. Your favorite, for example, was; “if ever he tells you he’s going to be a wonderful ruler, don’t trust him, Hitler said the same.” Steve had good intentions, sure, but his constant reminiscing made you feel as if you were a child listening to their grandfather speak about how ‘getting to school was so much harder in my day.’

Natasha, who was quite trained in the field of manipulation as well, gave you some tips she learnt in her mysterious past - some of which you already knew. Always form a connection. Listen to them. Don’t put them down if you want them to trust you. Simple things that worked wonders. Things you had used before, mostly on Tony, but they worked either way.

Sure, Loki was of another world, and he was the infamous God of Mischief. So, he had an obvious advantage over you, and you’d admit, a part of you was worried that he wouldn’t fall for you tactics and eventually be the one to drag you down to the deep dark depths. But, you were willing to take this challenge head on and nothing was going to stop you. For now, at least. If ever Loki dug his claws into your lungs to the point where you were gasping for breath and surrender was the only option, you’d opt out. But your goal was to not let it get to that point.

You hadn’t actually gotten the chance to speak one on one with Loki since his capturing, but Fury gave you a rundown of his so-called ‘prison’ chamber to ensure your safety. Which button to press if Loki went ballistic, where the security cameras were hidden out, which button to press to drop the cage - the basics. He also told you there’d always be someone listening in at all times, so if ever there was danger and you somehow didn’t sense it, you wouldn’t be alone.

But finally, today was your first day in getting to start breaking him down, and a part of you was slightly looking forward to it. On the countless times you had used your manipulative tactics to gain information from people in order to save your slightly self-sacrifical brother, none of it felt like it was up to the standard of actually being of worldly, even grave importance. The information you were trying to get from this guy was going to be do-or-die, and the sadistic side of you was slightly exhilarated at the thought.

“Alright, Y/N, are you ready to start? Remember, I’ll be watching everything,” Fury warned as if you were his daughter and about to go hang out with someone of the opposite sex for the first time.

“Yes, dad, I know you’ll be watching,” you reassured him, following him into the room where Loki was being kept, the loud thud of your overly-eager footsteps startling the man at the computer when you entered the room.

The dark, circular room was surrounding by computers, machines, pipes, wires, anything technological that you could think of. The only light source, though, seemed to be coming from the glowing white cage in the center of the room. The overwhelming scent of metal was almost aggressively jabbing at your nostrils, but you weren’t too affected - this is what Tony usually smells like after his Iron Man expeditions. You eventually turned your attention to the man standing in the center of the room.

When your eyes landed on him, you ended up staring more than you wanted. He looked so much worse than the first time you saw him. His pale, white complexion looked almost green, the deep indent of his eyes and cheekbones resembled the deepest craters and the pale blue of his eyes dulled down to a lifeless grey. His hair was messier, the little points at the end no longer bouncy, almost looking discouraged. You know, if it were possible for hair to have that emotion.

Fury had dismissed himself quietly and walked back out the same door, leaving you and Loki glaring at each other. You could tell he was reading you the same way you were him. His long cloak stayed put on his shoulders, but somehow, it looked just as dead as the rest of him.

“So, is this the best Fury has to offer?” His sultry voice spiked your ears, and you almost forgot you were here to actually speak to him, the staring contest feeling like it had lasted eight years.

“If anything, I think I’m the best Fury has. Period.” You shrugged, eyeing the small metal chair placed in front of his cell. You slowly walked over to it, fully aware of the God’s undivided attention following your every move.

He chuckled lowly at your comment as you sat down, “So, to what do I owe this insufferable thrill?”

Insufferable thrill?

“I’d like to think of myself as an angelic pleasure, but whatever suits your fancy,” you replied, crossing your legs and leaning back against the cold metallic chair, brushing past Loki’s insult.

Remember: don’t let him affect you.

“Why are you here?” He quipped, the teasing tone of his voice gone as he sat down in his cell, eyes boring into you as he searched for his answers.

Your mind thought up of something to justify your presence, “Uh - is it true you fucked a giant wolf?”

Smooth. Real smooth.

“Where did you hear this?” He asked, slightly more amused than he had previously been. His lips formed upwards into a subtle smirk, slightly confirming your question which once again, you didn’t really want an answer to.

“Never mind, uh, I actually have something serious I want to ask you,” you brushed past your initial awkward question, trying to set the tone that you were going to ask the questions around here and not the other way around.

He raised his hand as if to say ‘go ahead,’ leading you to proceed with your so-called interrogation.

“What’s the interest in Earth?” You found yourself asking, out of both curiosity and in following with Fury’s plan. Loki leaned back against the glass, crossing his arms as he took in your question.

He seemed to ponder, “Have we not gone over the cockroach metaphor--”

“Yeah, yeah, we have,” you rolled your eyes, “but seriously, out of all the galaxies and planets that have life and resources, what is it with out little home that’s caught your specific attention?”

His face seemed to drop slightly as you said ‘your’ - almost as if referring to the attack as ‘his’ had somehow upset him. He looked down to the ground, uncrossing his arms before making eye contact once more.

“Earth has something - something very valuable, priceless, something we’ve been looking for.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d think his tone was somewhat luring - as if he wanted you to ask for more information, but at the same time, wanted you to stay away from the details. It didn’t really make senseYou scanned him with your eyes once more. His body was slouched, showing vulnerability. If anything, this was way too easy. He had to be playing you somehow.

“What have we got that you want? Obama? Maybe some chicken wings?”

Loki scoffed, “No, you dim-wit. Something much more valuable than some Earthling. Or cheap food. Besides, your puny human brain wouldn’t be able to comprehend the power that I could find here.”

You made a mental note to bring that exact quote up to Fury later - the tone of Loki’s voice led you to believe there was subtext or some sort of hidden meaning that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“And what is this ‘power’ you speak of? Spill the tea, Loki,” you responded, leaning forward in your chair to listen better. Sure, you could hear just fine from the previous position you were in, but your subconscious says otherwise.

“As if I’d tell you,” he rolled his eyes once more, “I know Fury’s sent you here just to get information from me, but it won’t work that easy, I know they’re all listening in.” A smirk made its way onto his lips as he caught onto your act.

You knew Loki would catch on to what you were doing eventually - I mean, you were here to get information, and that was obvious, but a part of you felt as if you had already failed your little quest and it hadn’t even been ten minutes. But honestly, what else was he supposed to think with you coming in here and asking questions? You were here to get information.

Struggling to find your next words, you started laughing. Loki raised an eyebrow in confusion, looking around to check if there was some sort of joke he hadn’t seen.

“Ha, you think that’s why I’m here? To just wait around and work with what you’ve got at your pace?” you toned down the laughter slightly, regaining your breath, “Please, we wouldn’t go through that much trouble, we just want you dead. Or gone. Fury’s already planned the ten thousand ways he could behead you. No, no, we’re not that desperate, nor are you that important. I’m here because once I get framed with murder for ripping you apart, I’ll be able to justify it.”

Loki’s smirk dropped, the amusement disappearing from his eyes, “What did you just say to me?”

Chuckling once more, you raised an eyebrow at him, “What? Don’t like it when someone talks back to you, Mister Hot-Shot?” you leaned back in the chair, “Get used to it.”

Loki let out a sassed-filled sigh, dropping his shoulders as if he had been scolded, and started to mumble what sounded like, “No, it was just unnecessary.”

Now it was your turn to scoff as Loki took offence, looking like a small child who had been denied cookies before dinner. Your amusement spiked at his behaviour, his avoidance of eye contact being the cherry on top.

“You’re such a child,” you remarked, the unmissable pout disappearing from his lips, his eyes snapped back up to you as he stood up to defend himself.

“A child? Please, I’m over a thousand years old, have experienced wars, loss, have wrecked havoc - I have seen things your eyes can’t even begin to comprehend, and I am a God,” he was now right in front of you, of course separated by glass, but intimidating nonetheless, “Do not refer to me as a child--”

“You don’t have to be so touchy,” you smirked, standing up as well, “Sit down.”

Not used to taking commands, Loki blinked multiple times as he registered your words, practically discarding everything he just said about himself. Silently, he sat back down, leaving you to mentally swim around in victory.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen, Loki,” you placed your hands behind your back (you felt like Fury) as you started to walk around the circular cell, Loki’s eyes glued to you, “You are going to tell me what’s going on. I don’t care how much you think your honour and God-liness is going to prevent that - I will eventually get the answers I’m looking for. Now, you can either cooperate and get yourself sent safely back to Asgard - or we can do this the hard way - and believe me, with a team of enhanced superheroes who have a lot of fucking built-up anger and long-lasting unresolved issues, I can’t see that as being fun for you. Unless, of course, you’ve got some sort of dark sadistic torture kink, that is.”

You had made your way around the whole cell by now and were standing by the door, Loki’s eyes still stuck on you like flex tape, his mouth slightly open. To say you were basking like a champion would be an understatement. You felt over the fucking moon right now, having left the God of Mischief speechless on your first day of your mission. His lips formed into a smirk once he caught up to what you had said.

A small smirk formed on your lips too as you turned away, “Anyways, I need to go eat, my stomach’s been gurgling for a while now, so whenever I return, you can feel free to give me what I’m looking for. Have a lovely evening, Loki.”

You swayed in pride as you walked out of the room, Loki not uttering another word as you disappeared from his sight. Part of you felt as if you could have stuck around a little more to apply a bit more pressure, but at the same time, you didn’t want him thinking you were giving him all of your attention. He’d probably love that too much.

Making your way back into the main control room, you noticed Tony, Steve, and Thor huddled around the table, probably having watched your encounter with the dark-haired man. Fury stood not far away, hands clasped behind his back, his eye on you as you entered the room.

“How’d I do on my first day, boss?” You asked, a small smile playing at your lips. Fury sighed, looking over to Tony who had now stood up.

“Well, you were only in there for twenty minutes, so it was short--” Fury began speaking until he was cut off by Tony’s obnoxiously loud voice.

“I didn’t realize how much of a badass you were, lil sis,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leaning in to say the last part to you instead of yelling it to the whole room, “You make me proud.”

You chuckled, leaning in to his touch, “Gee, thanks big brother.”

“As I was saying,” Fury regained your attention, “It was short, but effective. You’ve left him thinking.”

Fury pointed to the screen which displayed the room you were just in. Loki was sitting in the same position, his eyes still glued to the door that you walked out of not five minutes ago, that damed smirk still on his lips.

“What can I say? I have that effect on men,” you smirked, a strange wave of confidence coming over you from who knows where. Fury groaned slightly, ignoring your comment. Tony played the exact same reaction.

“You’ve messed with his mind, that’s a good first step. But, you’re going to have to be more logical than emotional from now on. You got this.”

You grinned, patting Fury on the shoulder as you made your way to the small array of snacks on the table. You couldn’t lie, a part of you was left thinking about Loki too. You didn’t really like it, but at the same time, it helped you process what had just happened. You remembered the mental note you had made to yourself while talking to Loki, but figured you’d bring it up once your stomach got food. Fury’s ears were probably dealing with a lot right now since Maria just dragged him away, blabbing about some computer errors.

Thankfully, someone had brought out some food (finally) and you were grabbing just about everything you could - salad, crackers, cheese, whatever was in front of you. If this was what being aboard the helicarrier brought you, maybe you could live with it.

For now, you continued to think about what you were going to go over with Loki tomorrow, and hoping that things would work out much better now that you stood your ground.

You were proud of yourself too, in all honesty. Loki’s shock to your statement might have just been some sort of game, but at the same time, you had the guts to say it. That’s what mattered, and that’s what was important.

Fury’s words echoed into your head as Tony started a conversation with Thor about how hotdogs weren’t sandwiches.

You got this.

Damn right, you did.

Taglist

[Message me to be added - if you’re in bold it means I somehow wasn’t able to tag you, apologies!]

@appleappleton @what-a-fantasy @the-girl-of-many-fandoms1414 @brighteyedmichelle @leasly @cassiopeia-barrow @jay-the-mothafuckin-gay @themusingsofmany @bambamwolf87 @thefandomzoneisdangerous @cyberskeletonhandsbat @ultracarpediemfan @vgirl-10123 @bangvateez @leximills666 @littleredstarfish @blue-spider-official @what-a-fantasy @hello-lemons @yandereforyou @hippityhopitygetoffmyproperty @godhateskyleigh

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

How I got revenge on my cheating ex!

TL;DR at bottom.

This story takes place almost 12 years ago so I'll do my best with the dialog and details but admittedly some things are a little fuzzy. Most of my life I've had a problem with picking men that were not good for me, so much so that I even had a phrase for it "saving the world, one moron at a time". One of my more spectacularly bad choices was a guy by the name of "Bob" (obviously not his real name). I met Bob when I was working one of my 2 jobs at the local mall, he worked somewhere else in the mall so we hit it off and soon enough we were in a relationship. Within a few months my lease was up and we ended up moving in together which obviously in hindsight was a huge mistake but I was dumb and lonely.

Soon enough red flags began to fly, he would say things in common conversation that were simply incorrect (like there's only 4 continents and the rest are actually owned by the martian government and thus don't count etc. ) and when challenged would circular talk until you either agreed with him or dropped the subject. He would also make claims that seemed entirely unbelievable such as when I asked where he had been staying prior to his mom's house he said he "camped in the woods" when I asked how he did that for months on end and without any gear he simply gestured to himself and said "this is all the gear I need". The worst trait though by far was his epic LAZINESS! I have never witnessed someone so lazy in my life.

Bob was unemployed for over a third of our relationship and would simply sit in the apartment watching netflix or playing some war game on "his" computer AKA my spare computer typing away in the group chat. He would never clean up after himself leaving dirty dishes in the sink and filth on every surface while only taking a shower MAYBE once a week. The smell that permeated my apartment could only be described as revolting and could easily gag a maggot. I would inquire a few times a week on his "job hunt" only to be dismissed or given a growing amount of excuses such as "but I don't have a car, how would I get there"... "the bus doesn't run in that area"... "the internet went down so I couldn't apply"... etc. etc. Meanwhile I am working double and triple shifts at my job to try to make up the lost income and running him all over town in my off time getting applications and helping him fill them out and turn them in. Keep in mind he doesn't have a cell phone so all of these apps have my contact info on them. Thus begins the era of him "holding my phone" while I'm at work so he can make calls or schedule interviews as well as I can get a hold of him from my store phone if I needed to.

Things began getting weird, he began staying up later and later on this group chat, sometimes till almost dawn. Sometimes we would hang out all evening until it was time for bed. Then he would always make some excuse on why he needed to check the game before bed and he'd be right there.... hours would pass... no Bob. I began to get suspicious but nothing incriminating seemed to be taking place so I just shrugged it off as me being insecure. Then he started asking to use my car to go see his best friend "Ben", now I wasn't super comfortable with this but I did know Ben pretty well and we got along almost better than Bob and I did so I guess to a degree I trusted Ben more than Bob and agreed to it. This happened a few times while I was working the evening shift and he was always back at the allotted time with my car and my phone and relatively grateful for the opportunity to hang with his buds. Suspicious... umm yes, but I'm the kind of person that is loyal and trusting to a fault and don't assume anything without proof and from every angle all seemed to be on the up and u so I took it at face value.

So one day he asks to borrow my car and go with his friends to a card gaming tournament, he put on a great show telling me how the prize money would help us out and with the deck he had there was no way he could loose. I just had to let him use my car and phone this one last time and he would be able to buy himself a phone with the prize money. I wasn't a huge fan of the idea but nothing untoward had occurred in the previous instances and I didn't feel like spending my only day off at a card game convention that I literally couldn't care less about so I acquiesced. I bought myself a couple green monsters and some vodka and had my own little personal drunk party. Hours tick by and no Bob... Eventually I pass out only to wake up at the crack of dawn VIOLENTLY sick, this went way beyond a hangover. I start retching in the bathroom until there was nothing left but bile but the retching wouldn't stop. Hours ticked by and I lay in my bathroom floor sweating and convulsing with no phone, no car and no Bob. I eventually was able to crawl to my room and wrap myself in a bath robe before crawling down my apartment building stairs and began knocking on the closest doors. It took 3 apartments before someone opened the door and allowed me to use their phone to call my mom. My mother was at my apt in 6 minutes flat and rushed me to the ER where I was diagnosed with an aggressive and antibiotic-resistant strain of C-Dif. Bob finally showed up later that afternoon phone and car keys in hand looking very concerned and claiming to be deeply apologetic but my mom hated him from that point on. I was out of the hospital and back to work within a few days but it was the beginning of the end.

During these last months we were constantly scraping by due to his lack of consistent income and poor spending habits. There were jobs gotten and there were jobs lost for various reasons throughout our relationship but the final job was one I helped him get literally 3 buildings down from my own workplace. This company rents furniture and electronics on a weekly/monthly basis and I happen to know most of the employees and the hiring manager as they are regular customers at my coffee establishment . I was able to use what little sway I had to get him on there and he accepted a job as a delivery man.

Within a few weeks I come home from work to find a brand new TV and entertainment system and him grinning like an idiot. I tell him we can't afford this, we can barely afford to eat and are surviving off scraps I bring home from work. He talks about his amazing employee discount and assures me it's no big deal that the rental fee will just come out of his check etc. I was pissed! Not only had he not consulted me, he also had me on the account as well (my info had been taken from the credit app I filled out as a favor to help their numbers) so if HE flaked I was liable. Fast forward another few weeks the rent is late and we are receiving eviction notices on our door, I come home from work and the tv is mysteriously gone. "Thank goodness" I think, "he finally realized we can't afford it and took it back"... he gets paid, rent gets paid and all is as good as it can be. Until I found a pawn slip for the TV in his pocket as I was doing laundry and went ballistic! He assured me he had plans to get it back in the works and to not worry about it, it will be taken care of soon and no one will be the wiser? I was too pissed to catch on to the secrecy aspect of the situation.

A few more tense weeks go by with him working mornings and myself working evenings while we shared one phone and car... Until that fateful day arrived! I woke up that morning with a migraine headache and opted to let Bob take the car but leave me the phone so I can call someone later on for a ride to work. A few hours of uncomfortable sleep go by before I am awoken by my phone.... I answer the phone still groggy "Hello?"

There is a long pause on the other end of the line until a female voice asks "Umm is Bob there?"

I felt a sickening feeling in my gut and began to shake.... is this real? Am I dreaming?

"No, he's at work right now this is his wife (total lie but hey) is there something I can help you with?" I wasn't rude, I phrased it as a genuine question rather than an accusation.

Another long pause before she began to stammer about maybe she had the wrong number but it was obvious she just wanted to get off the phone with me as quickly as possible and I realized in that moment that I desperately needed her.

"Please" I said with an edge of desperation in my voice.. "I don't know what's going on but I just really need somebody to tell me the truth" the last word came out in a sob and I sat there for a moment in silence trying to quell the urge to just cry uncontrollably.

"Listen" the voice on the other end was almost gentle "I need to make a few phone calls but I promise you I WILL call you back". She said it calmly and with so much conviction that I really wanted to believe her...

"Please, you promise?" I almost begged.

"I promise" she replied

"Ok" I took a deep breath and released it, "I'll talk to you soon" and hung up.

I then proceeded to aggressively pace my living room floor staring at my phone while chain smoking and muttering to myself like a crazy person. I knew who she was calling... I was replaying all those little red flag moments in my head from the last few months, pinning down dates or behavior I'd found suspect when the phone rings again. It's her. I froze for a moment... shocked she followed through and called me back, terrified of what this meant... I answered the phone and what followed was about the most soul crushing 45 min of my life

After initial introductions June (again not the real name) and I began comparing stories and it became glaringly obvious what was happening... They had actually been in a relationship several years prior and had run back into each other on the aforementioned war game where they began to flirt on group chat. All those nights he'd been on the computer he'd been chatting with her. All those times he'd go hang out with his "friend's" he been using my car to take her out and my phone to communicate with her. The time I was sick and alone with NO resources... you guessed it... he was with her! Oh but it get's better...

"Do you have a little silver hummingbird necklace?" she inquired. "Yes, my mother gave it to me for my 27th birthday actually I love it"

"Really?" she said "Cause he gave me one for mother's day"

"OMG" I almost yelled into the phone as I ran to my room and tore through my jewelry box... it wasn't in there... it was around her neck.

From there we discovered not only had he been giving her my property as gifts but he'd had her over to our apartment passing it off as his own. I didn't want to believe him capable of doing something so cruel and disrespectful when I have allowed him to sponge off me for the better part of 3 years. Unfortunately as in confirmation she began describing my apartment to a T, all the way down to my bed sheets. June said he even pulled my "secret box" from beneath my bed and offered to use my adult items on her. She said she found it weird and didn't partake but I threw them away due to the sheer ick factor. Finally she uttered the words I didn't know I wanted to hear"

"You know what we should do? We should bust him together."

My mind immediately started racing, indeed we should! I was a mix of fury, adrenaline and despair so my thinking wasn't exactly strait and details begin to get hazy here. We arrange to meet up at my work and find a way to lure Bob over there but unfortunately she lived about 40 min away whereas I only live about 6 miles from our destination so if I got there first I'd need to stall him (assuming he wasn't out on a delivery). I called a trusted coworker of mine at work sobbing and begging for a ride... to his everlasting credit he got somebody to cover and LEFT WORK to come get me and bring me to my car. When I got to Bob's workplace I went inside to retrieve my keys (this isn't uncommon as they know the car is mine) and was stopped half way through store by Bob's manager wanting to talk about the payment due on "our account".

I don't remember the exact dialog but I said something along the lines of "Look, I don't know when you are going to get your payment." I looked utterly defeated and told him we could never afford the TV in the first place and how I had begged Bob to take it back and now we don't have it anymore as Bob has pawned it and I don't have the money to get it out let alone pay him. I was full on blubbering at this point when he stopped me to clarify that his EMPLOYEE pawned a rental TV under contract. I confirmed that this was indeed true and presented him with the pawn ticket. HE WAS MAD! Apparently such an act is illegal and is terms for immediate termination but he assured me that if I could get the TV back to him there would be no harm no foul and he would terminate my contract without any penalties. I thanked him for his understanding and told him to let Bob know I would be over at my workplace.

My heart is pounding in my chest and blood is roaring in my ears... what was I going to say? What was HE going to say? Would June make it here before he did?? My heart sinks when I see Bob's hulking form making it's way in my direction, I frantically scan the parking lot for June's car... she's not here yet and I'm out of time. He hits the door looking out of breath and guilty as hell and I just stare at him stone faced. I walk outside silently to light a cigarette unsure of exactly what to say and he follows me wordlessly outside.

He starts in with the "it's not what it seems" and "it's all just a terrible misunderstanding" and I just let him dig himself deeper into his hole of lies. I listen, I nod, I pretend to understand until a particular car pulls into view. June parks in the space directly next to where we were standing and gets out of the car... "Hey Bob, how ya' doing?" Bob has gone visibly pale, he hangs his head and sits down on the curb saying nothing to either of us. June and I greet each other and awkwardly shake hands before again returning our attention to Bob. June begins berating him on his lies and deceit, unveiling all of our mutual info and subsequent conclusions while I stood mostly in silence agreeing at the appropriate times but mostly still in shock. After 20 minutes of this I finally mustered up the courage to take my stand.

"We are done, I don't want to see you ever again. I'll pack up your things (only 2 boxes worth) and your sister can contact me in a few days to pick them up. Now I want your key." I held out my hand and looked at him. "Not until I get my stuff out, then you get your key" he replied. I tried to argue but he continued to refuse and used his large stature to his advantage knowing I'd have no chance in a physical altercation. He turned and walked away heading back toward his workplace, June and I talked a little more before she handed me my hummingbird necklace and left. I stood there alone staring at nothing trying to wrap my head around what had just transpired and then I cried... oh how I cried.

With nowhere else to turn I had only one call to make... to my mom. The moment she answered I unleashed this deluge of words at her that were half sobs and half rant. "Stay right there, I'm coming" she said. God Bless my mother! Soon enough both of my parents pull up in my dad's truck and my mom gets out to comfort me and give me hugs. I look at the driver's seat and see my father with his jaw is clenched and a death grip on the steering wheel while staring strait ahead... OH Crap! They take me to the pawn shop and my parents write a check for more than $500 to get the TV out, we then drive strait over to Bob's workplace and return the TV to the manager. As the manager finishes up the cancellation paperwork my dad spots Bob pacing around the back of the parking lot talking frantically on the phone. Unfortunately I didn't get to hear the ensuing conversation but my dad returns within a few minutes holding my house key and looking victorious.

"I believe this is yours" he says as he hands me the key and then pulls me into a hug and I cried a little into his shoulder. My dad gave me a squeeze, kissed my temple and whispered into my ear "They're firing him." I leaned back to look at my dad and he just smirked and said "Now he's jobless and homeless." I thought about it for a second before I said in my most sarcastic tone "Ohhh I'm sooo soorrryyy to hear that" We laughed about it a little and my parents gave me some words of wisdom before leaving me to drive myself home where my best friend was already waiting to keep me company.

Bob and his sister showed up a few days later for his pitiful boxes of stuff, he tried to talk to me, to explain... but my best friend descended on him like a harpy if he muttered more than a few syllables in my direction so he was shut down almost immediately. He left that night and I have never heard from him since, I blocked him on social media but there was really no need as he made no effort to contact me on any level. That's Bob... ever lazy, ever deluded and always an a**hole.

So here I am many years later happily married to my high school sweetheart and the mother of two beautiful little boys and grateful to have moved on when I did. The experience with Bob certainly took its toll I lost a lot of weight due to lack of appetite but had a myriad of trust issues moving forward but the point is I moved forward. I have grown leaps and bounds as a person since this experience and am truly content with where my life is now but every now and then when I'm drifting off to sleep I can't help but wonder... what ever happened to good ol' Bob? Is he out there somewhere... in the woods with a stick and his wits as his only gear... waiting for a martian government to make its move.

Ah well, a girl can dream ;)

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to message me with any questions or comments :)

TL;DR: I discovered my boyfriend was cheating so I organized a sting operation with the other woman. Boyfriend ended up chickless, jobless and homeless within a matter of hours.

(source) story by (/u/Jenabear7897)

#prorevenge #by /u/Jenabear7897 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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gumnut-logic · 5 years

Text

The Bellini Incident (Part Seven)

Title: The Bellini Incident

Author: Gumnut

28 Apr 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Kayo was going to kill him.

Word count: 3657

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Virgil!whump with a side order of Scott!whump.

Timeline: Standalone, not Rain Series.

Author’s note: For @soniabigcheese who threw the prompt at me, and @i-am-chidorixblossom who suggested some Virgil whump. Scott got a bit whumped, too, I’m branching out as a writer, blame @scribbles97.(And thanks to her for the read throughs :D )

The prompt: The character who doesn’t realize they’ve been hurt trying to see if everyone else is okay only to slowly realize that everyone is looking at them with mounting horror. Then they touch their side to find it’s wet and oh no…

I have been dropping hints about one of the characters in this story for the last couple of chapters. For those of you who have read Gentle Rain you might have recognised her. For those of you who haven’t I hope I’m sketching her character out well. If not, Gentle Rain might be worth the read as in this chapter she comes to the fore. It should also be noted that while I’m using the character from Gentle Rain, she is an alternate timeline version as this is not a Gentle or Warm Rain fic. So, things are very different, though I hope the core of her character is the same. This is me actioning an idea proposed by @lightning1999 and I hope she enjoys it along with everyone else.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

John stared at his tablet. His heart was breaking ribs. “Kayo?” His voice was little more than a whisper, but regardless, he knew he wasn’t going to get an answer.

Her tracker was moving out into the alley. “Eos, get down there. Don’t let her out of your sight.” It was supposed to be simple. Just a contact. Just a hint of connection to the Network. How had they known?

John had holed up in the room next door to Virgil and Scott’s. Besides him it was empty.

So empty.

His breathing matched his heart rate.

“Gordon.”

His younger brother was next door keeping an eye on both the eldest and the youngest. Alan had taken yesterday’s events very hard and fallen asleep in the chair beside Virgil, his hand still holding onto his sleeping older brother as if he was scared the man would disappear on him.

Kayo’s tracker was moving across the map. Eos was following.

“Gordon.”

The door opened and John jumped, but it was only the aquanaut. “What’s up, bro? Scott and Virg are still asleep. Alan’s snoring.” A grin. “I have video.”

“Gordon. They’ve got Kayo.”

His brother immediately sobered. “What? Who?” He hurried over to peer at the map.

“Unknown.”

“What do you mean ‘unknown’? What happened?”

“She went to meet with one of her contacts. They didn’t show, but someone else did. Aiden, Jo and Chu are not answering. Kayo...they took her. Eos is on it.”

“Took her?” It was as if his brother couldn’t compute the concept. “How the hell?”

John swallowed. “Apparently they knew she was coming.” The security breach leading to that issue gaped open in his mind.

“We need to get her back. I’ll wake Scott.”

John grabbed his arm and pinned those brown eyes with his own. “Don’t wake Virgil.”

Gordon’s eyes widened just slightly as the effect of Kayo’s capture on his second oldest brother sunk in. “He’s going to want to know where she is.”

“He can’t know. Not yet.”

Thinned lips. “I’ll grab Scott.”

John let him go and he ran from the room.

His eyes returned to the blip on the map that was his little sister.

Shit.

-o-o-o-

Doctor Em Harris was tired.

It had been a long day, the third in a row, and this was the first that she had seen of her apartment in over sixty-five hours. Her aching feet dragged her through the door.

The cause of this extended work period was the Tracy brothers. International Rescue, myth on a stick. It was pure chance she had been on ER duty when Thunderbird Two landed on the hospital’s front lawn, and the events that followed swept her up in their momentum. A directive from the hospital director, the GDF, and the leader of International Rescue...and her two sole medical cases were now Scott and Virgil Tracy.

Men and myths blurred.

Apparently, myths bled as red as men. She sighed. The brothers were close knit, that much she could tell. She hardly knew them, but part of her warmed to their banter. Obviously, they all cared deeply for each other. The youngest, Alan, reminded her of her little brother, Jeth. Both a sweet and heart-breaking thought. Before his paralysis, before the tsunami that had taken so much.

The sister had gone absolutely ballistic after the assassination attempt. Em had found her pacing the corridor outside Virgil’s room, fury in her step. A moment of hesitation, a bitten lip and Em had interrupted that pace. “Ms Kyrano, Virgil will heal. There is no permanent damage.”

Green eyes had snapped to her, mistrust at the fore. This was a woman who had been hurt in the past. Em could understand that, but underneath it all was guilt.

Guilt could be a killer.

She said nothing.

Em drew in a breath. “If there is anything I can do for you, just ask. Even if it is just an ear for listening. It can help.”

Those eyes simply stared her down. Still she said nothing and Em had the distinct feeling she was under an x-ray machine, her innards being examined for threat.

“Okay?”

Smooth voice. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

But Ms Kyrano had disappeared shortly after and she hadn’t seen her since.

Now Em was home to grab some fresh clothing and was due back at the hospital in fifteen minutes.

She closed the front door behind her, dropped her keys on the table in the hallway and strode through to her bedroom.

There was a man sitting on her bed.

She froze for just a moment, enough to see him smile in the dim light, before spinning and making a dash for the front door.

She almost made it.

An arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her from her feet.

She screamed and kicked.

“Woo hoo, you are a feisty-“

Her elbow hit facial bone. A strangled gurgle cut off the man’s snark and his hold loosened. Slamming a heel into his shin, she shoved her other elbow into his gut. A gasp and she was free and moving.

“You bitch!”

The door handle was in her hand when cold metal rammed into her neck.

She froze, a whimper on her breath.

“You’ll pay for that. Trust me, you will. Maybe not now, but definitely later.” He grabbed her hair and dragged her back from the door. “Now, Emaline, we need to have a little chat about Virgil Tracy and your little brother. One needs to die, which would you prefer?”

-o-o-o-

Scott Tracy had the ability to go from deep sleep to fully awake in a split second. It was a skill that was both useful and annoying.

This time it was useful.

Gordon’s touch had him peering up at worried red-brown eyes, his strawberry-blond brother gesturing silently, a finger on his lips. A glance around the room explained why. Alan was curled up asleep in the chair beside Virgil’s bed, his older brother’s fingers still in his hand. Virgil was on his side facing both of them, a frown furrowing his brow despite his quiet breathing.

The room was dim and quiet.

Gordon’s gestures were urgent.

Sitting up gingerly, Scott tested his equilibrium, hoping the vertigo that had plagued him since the incident was waning. A flicker of lights at the edge of his vision, but other than that he seemed fairly stable. The headache, he could ignore.

Gordon grabbed his arm as his feet softly touched the floor, shoved his dressing gown into his arms and urged him from the room.

The IR security officers outside the door raked him with their eyes. Scott tried to smile a little, but Gordon dragged him to the next room along.

“What the hell, Gordon?”

“We have a situation.”

Scott’s spine automatically straightened at John’s voice, illness forgotten. “Report.”

John was short, sharp and to the point.

Scott did not react, but that was only due to experience. “Do you have her status?”

“She’s alive. Eos has been able to hack one of the phones in the vehicle and turn on the camera.” A video of their sister limp on a backseat, from an awkward angle, but clear enough to see her breathing. It shook with the movement of the car, obviously being held offhandedly by someone sharing the seat with her. “Other than that, I’ve got her subcutaneous tracker and her collar comms.”

“Can you turn them on from here? Receive only?”

John muttered something. A moment later and the sounds of soft breathing and a vehicle in motion.

“Where is Thunderbird Shadow?”

“Airport. She was undercover, but wanted to have her ‘bird available if she needed it.”

“I need it.”

John turned to stare at him. “What?”

“I’m going to go and get her. Any idea where they are headed?”

“Out of the city, apparently, they’re on the freeway heading towards Tokyo.” He stared up at his brother. “Scott, you’ve got a severe concussion. You shouldn’t be flying.”

“That’s why Gordon is coming with me.” Blue eyes darted towards the aquanaut.

Something flickered in Gordon’s eyes and a grim smile curved his lips. “Hell, yeah.”

John stared up at them. “What about Colonel Casey?”

Scott’s lips thinned. “What about her? We’re wasting time. Call TBS and land her on the roof. I need my uniform.”

“What if they’re armed?! Scott-“

“Get the information. I will do what is necessary.”

“Scott-“

“Do you want to be the one to tell Virgil his ‘Kay’ has been captured?”

John opened his mouth, but shut it again. “You could be injured or killed!”

“Sounds like the average rescue to me.”

“The average rescue isn’t armed and criminal. Call in the GDF.”

“I don’t trust the GDF. Certainly not with a Tracy.” Scott straightened. “Keep it from Virgil as long as you can.”

John’s glare could have stripped paint. “What do I tell him?”

“Think of something, just keep him in that bed.”

“What, like I should be doing for you?”

Scott returned the glare. “Get me the information I need.” He turned away from his middle brother, sorry to be so harsh, but needing to move.

His head reminded him that it wasn’t happy about anything.

Two minutes later, Commander Scott Tracy left the room wearing a three-day old dirty uniform ignoring the dried flakes of his brother’s blood that he had been unable to brush off.

This had gone far enough.

-o-o-o-

Her fingers shook as she shut her locker, the bruise on the back of her hand where the bastard had wrenched her arm behind her back was turning black. She flexed her fingers desperate to dull the ache but only made it worse.

She was asked to kill Virgil Tracy or they would kill her little brother. The whole concept just broke everything dear to her.

Jeth, paralysed from the waist down and brain injured in the tsunami that killed her parents, was currently in medical care across the other side of the city. He was the entire reason she was in Japan at all. Nagoya held the most eminent specialist in the field of neuroscience. There was hope her brother could recover some of his faculties with continued treatment. It cost, but she didn’t care. She would do anything to see him better. To see him smile.

Anything.

She leant her forehead against the cold metal of the locker and tried not to cry.

Virgil Tracy did nothing but try to save people. Sure, International Rescue had been involved in the tsunami, but it hadn’t been their fault.

Not their fault.

Any more than this was.

A tear tracked down her cheek.

She had the ability to kill. She had spent her life fighting death, it wouldn’t be hard to let it win.

Another tear fell to the floor.

What was she going to do?

An image of the brothers bantering waltzed through her head. How could she possibly be considering this? How could she?

The last few years had been hard. She had lost her parents and her brother had needed so much care. So much.

She had been burning the candle at both ends for so long, she had forgotten what having a life was like. The last three days had been strenuous, but the ability to focus on just two patients and give them all the care they needed had been a pleasant contrast to the usual chaos of patient after patient that general ER and surgery tended to be.

Three days and she was caring for the Tracy brothers more than she should be.

And Alan was so much like Jeth.

Mr Scott Tracy. Eyes the colour of the ocean she so loved and hadn’t seen for so long. He seemed kindly. He was the leader. What if she told him? Could he help? Or would it doom her brother to death?

She wanted to scream.

Straightening, she squared her shoulders. She had twenty-four hours. A monitored twenty-four hours. He said they were watching.

Watching.

With a gun pointed at her brother’s head.

She would kill herself if it would solve anything.

It wouldn’t.

She wished it would.

With her heart in shreds she stepped into the elevator that would take her to the ward protecting her patients.

She didn’t expect one of them to be waiting for the lift when it arrived.

For a moment she was floored. Scott Tracy in uniform was a sight to behold. The determination on his face was a physical thing strong enough to plough through anything in his way. But more than a glance and she could see how pale he was, how stiff he was holding himself, the dirt on the uniform.

And she realised he was wearing the same clothes he had arrived in. Her memory of him clinging to Virgil in the ship’s medical bay, drenched in blood, was one etched into her brain and destined to join her for life.

“Where are you going?”

He blinked as if he hadn’t expected the question. “I’m needed.”

“You have a concussion. You need to be in bed.”

“Life isn’t perfect.”

God, that was the truth. “You can’t leave.”

Those eyes pinned her where she stood. “I do what I have to do.” His brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”

And she realised that her face probably wasn’t at its best. “I’m fine.” She forced her lips into a firm line desperate to hide her tremble.

His frown deepened. “Have you been crying?”

He was observant.

“I received some bad news.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He shifted his helmet from one hand to the other. “Look after yourself.”

An attempted small smile. “I will.” She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “You should, too.”

Scott bit his lip and looked down before catching her gaze again. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

Her mouth tightened, knowing she had no hope of stopping him. “Then come back safe.”

“I’m planning on it.” A breath. “Please excuse me.” He stepped around her and into the lift. A small smile as he turned back to look at her as the doors closed.

And he was gone.

-o-o-o-

Virgil woke groggy and hot.

Hot was not a good thing. That was the first fact to register. The second was a parched throat.

He had obviously been lying in the same position for some time as everything was aching and stiff. Of course, his left side was a mass of nasty nerve signals he really didn’t want to acknowledge, but even his right arm creaked as he tried to move to motivate his circulation.

He didn’t expect the hand that was entangled with his.

“Alan?”

His brother shifted, startled out of sleep. “Wha-? Oh god.” Just watching him, Virgil could feel his bones creaking. He knew from experience just how painful sleeping in a hospital chair could be. Alan folded himself, his elbows landing on his knees, his head in his hands. “Somebody put me out of my misery.”

“Ask Gordon, I’m sure he will oblige.”

“What the hell is wrong with your voice?”

“Water, Alan?”

“Oh.”

His little brother staggered to his feet, grabbed the jug and cup from the bed table, poured the liquid and handed it to Virgil.

Cool, clear and wonderful. In hospital, it was definitely the little things. Breathed out. “Thank you.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“Hot.”

Alan reached out and touched his forehead. “Shit, Virg, you’ve got a fever. I’ll go grab the doc.”

“Ala-“ But he was already gone.

Virgil sighed back into the bed.

One positive was the fog from the medication seemed to have cleared somewhat. Pain? Some, but manageable for the moment.

Alan returned with the doctor from yesterday. Virgil frowned. She was still all dark hair and pale skin, but she was flushed and she looked worried.

“Alan says you are burning up.” She pulled out a thermometer and poked him in the ear before he could answer. “Thirty-eight point five. I would definitely call that a fever, Mr Tracy. Let me see your wounds.”

What followed was gentle, but necessarily painful. The strongest suspect for infection was the scalpel wound in his side. It was no real surprise considering the stress he had put it through. The doctor finished off with some general obs and settled him back against the pillows.

“An extra course of antibiotics should nip that in the bud. Give me a minute and I’ll go grab some supplies.” She turned and left.

Alan looked lost.

“Go and get yourself something to eat, Alan.”

“It’s the middle of the night!”

“If you’ve been sitting there since I was last awake, you missed at least one meal. Go eat.”

“You sure? I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Virgil sighed. “I’m fine. There are two guards outside. The doctor will be here in a moment. If you are concerned, go find Scott and tell him to get his ass back to bed. Where the hell is he anyway? In fact, your mission is to go and find the escapee and escort him back here. Grab some food while you’re at it.”

“Yes, sir!” The mock salute was just that touch ridiculous and his brother smiled. “Won’t be long.”

“Don’t hurry, I’ll be fine.”

Alan held up two hands in defence. “Okay, okay, I’m going.” He waltzed pass the doctor as she walked back in, hands full of an IV bag and intravenous needles.

Great.

She was efficient and professional and within a matter of minutes, there were some cold yet hot fluids dripping into his blood stream. He took another sip of his water and lay back, doing his best to try and relax.

He was quite surprised when the doctor didn’t leave immediately.

She packed up her supplies neatly and placed them on Scott’s bed table. Turning she straightened and her pale eyes caught his. Her face was flushed again and her expression twisted him inside. There was pain there, and regret.

“Doctor?”

“You’re a good man, aren’t you?”

He blinked. Huh? “As good as any? I’m far from perfect, but I do try to do the right thing?” A slight frown. “Why?”

“I...” She bit her lip and, to his consternation, tears appeared in her eyes. “I just...need you to be worth it.”

“Worth what?”

Her face crumpled and she turned away, her face in her hands. Muffled. “I’m sorry.”

“Doctor Harris, what is wrong?” He pushed the button to raise the back of the bed as far up as it would go and with a gasp and a grimace, pushed his legs around and off the edge of the bed.

He was so damned hot.

“What are you doing? Get back into bed!”

He glared up at her. “Not until you tell me what is wrong.”

She took a step back. “I...”

“Emaline, is it?”

Her voice was small. “Just Em.”

“Just Em. Something has upset you. Is there anything I can do?”

“Oh god, why?” And she was crying, her whole body shaking.

He couldn’t reach her without standing up and to be honest, he didn’t feel that was advisable in his condition unless he wanted to get intimate with the floor. His side was yelling at him enough already. “Em.”

She looked up, her face swollen, her eyes desperate. A moment and she was in front of him, tears ignored, doctor to the fore. “Mr Tracy, lie back down.” Her hand touched his right shoulder urging him to comply.

“Not until you tell me why you are upset. Apparently, it involves me somehow. What is wrong?”

Expressions of worry, fear, guilt and sadness flickered across her face before it settled into one of resignation. She looked down at her hands and he reached out, clasping her arm gently.

“A problem shared is a problem halved.”

A pain-filled laugh sputtered forth and the tears welled again. “Mr Tracy, you have no idea.”

“It’s Virgil. And if you tell me, then I will.”

She stared at him. “You are worth it, aren’t you.” Another tear trickled down her cheek and she swallowed. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”

“Em?”

She straightened just slightly, looking past him as if to gain strength from the air around her. “Do you remember the tsunamis in Indonesia nearly four years ago?”

Remember? How could he forget? The Hood had set off a series of artificial seaquakes all along the Pacific Rim causing several tsunamis that had taken thousands of lives.

All in the hope of gaining access to the Thunderbirds.

“I can see in your expression that you do, and I know why. The Hood wanted your equipment, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” Virgil’s voice was little more than a rasp.

“And you couldn’t give it to him, could you.”

He breathed it out. “No.”

“My parents died in the southern tsunami, they were in a hotel lobby, ground floor. The building collapsed on them. My brother was higher up. Somehow, he managed to survive, but he was severely injured. It is likely he will never walk again.” A drawn in breath that strangled to a sob. “But he also sustained a brain injury. I’m...We’re in Nagoya for treatment. There is hope...” And she was crying again.

“I’m sorry, Em, for your loss.” It hurt. It always would. The mantra of ‘you can’t save them all’ marched around his head. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh god!” She turned away. “Why the hell? How can they possibly want you dead?”

He froze, his heart missing a beat. “Em?”

“They want me to kill you, Virgil.”

“What?!” He shuffled just a little bit further back on the bed. The corner of his eye caught the door, his hand reached for his comms.

The IV pulled at his skin.

She spun around. “They are going to kill my brother. If I don’t kill you, my little Jeth is going to die.”

-o-o-o-

End Part Seven.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #em harris #virgil/kayo #kayo kyrano #gordon tracy #the bellini incident

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roguelov · 6 years

Photo

I feel horrible.

An understatement, but it was the only statement your mind could string together. Your whole body had this dull ache. Every small twitch, every breath you drew made your muscles whine. You decided to only stay still and kept your eyes closed hoping to be lulled back to sleep. It last for only a few minutes. A door swung opened. But you didn’t move, only listened. It began to dawn on your that you didn’t know where you were. Or why you were here. A hand lifted your arm and two fingers pressed on the inside of your wrist. The contact made you open your eyes. Everything came in blurry and bright. Odd shapes that became more defined as you blinked rapidly. You were in a room. A hospital room? It seemed like it but not exactly. There was more computers. More equipment than a regular hospital. Glancing to your left, you saw another room with more computers on a desk and TV screens plastered on a wall.

Where am I?

A woman shuffled into your view. She checked on the IV bag and monitors that hanged nearby. As she checked the bag you were watching her. Curiously. Who was she? Your nurse? But she was dressed in finer clothes than normal nurse scrubs. The woman glanced downward to you, you who was still staring unwavering at her trying to figure her out. She yelped clutching her hand to her chest. She looked at you strangely. With relief? Concern? So many emotions passed through her face.

“Oh my god, (Y/N), you’re awake! Thank god, wait here let me go get the others,” she smiled before running off into the room next door.

How does she know my name? Did I tell her? I don’t remember. I mean, I guess I told her if she knows.

The woman returned seconds later with a group of people: another woman, an older man, and two younger men. Immediately, these people flocked to you surrounding your bed. They all gushed saying how happy there were to see you up, happy to see you healthy. All of them way too close. Who are these people? You clutched your bed sheets as panic seeped in. Am I supposed to know these people? Their faces didn’t ring any bells. Oh god, what if this isn’t a hospital. What if they kidnapped me or something?

Your heart monitor went ballistic. Beeping rapidly indicating your panicked state to everyone in the room. The group looked to the machine then to you with worry. The woman from before leapt into action checking your vitals. The group silently stepped back letting her work as they stared at you with countless emotions. You had to pull your eyes away from them focusing on the woman. She seemed nice. Kind hearted. Maybe, I wasn’t kidnapped.

After the woman did a once over, she pulled up a chair sitting at your bed side. “(Y/N), can I ask you a few questions,” the woman asked calmly. She was treading carefully hoping not to send you into another panic state.

Swallowing down the fear, you nodded.

“Good. Okay, do you know where you are? Specifically?”

You looked at the group then back to the woman. Fear wrapped around your heart. You shook your head whispering, “No.”

“That’s okay. Let’s keep going. Do you know what city you are in?”

“Central City.” That you knew. You had just recently moved here, so of course, you knew that. A new wave of panic shot through you. Was I in a car accident? The heart monitoring began screaming in your ear again.

The woman quickly tried to calm you down. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re at STAR labs a, uh, hospital of sorts.” You did not like how she phrased it. Of sorts. It’s either a hospital or it’s not. “Here, take a deep breath. We’re not going to hurt you.” You took even breaths. “Good, good, um, how about another question, okay? Do you know who I am? Or everybody else?” She gestured to the group.

You clenched the bed sheets again. You continued to take deep breaths calming your growing fears. “No, I don’t know you.” You glanced to the rest of the group, “Or any of you.”

Everyone had a look of distraught. It was as if you killed a puppy right in front of them. One of the younger men stepped forward. He had long dark hair and was slightly shorter than the rest. “You really don’t remember me? You know, your pal Cisco,” he joked but he had a broken look etched onto his features. “You know? Your favorite pop culture reference guy?”

God, you wished you did. You wanted to say yes just to wipe that broken look off of his face. But you couldn’t. You just shook your head, “I’m sorry, I don’t. I wish I did but I don’t.”

He returned back to the group where the other younger man patted his shoulder in comfort. “Let’s introduce ourselves, okay? I’m Caitlin, that’s Cisco, Barry, Iris, and Harry,” Caitlin said pointing to person to person. These were names you didn’t recognized, no matter how hard you tried. Caitlin turned back to you, “How about you tell us your latest memory? So we can have somewhere to start.”

You nodded. Closing your eyes, you tried to piece together your last memory. “I just moved here to Central City. There was a job opportunity that was going to help me pursue my career. I, uh,” a headache started to form, “I got the job. I was home. I –“

“(Y/N)!”

I’m falling. Falling. Falling. I can see Cisco and Barry shouting at me from the ground. Screaming for help. Pain erupts from my back. Something shot at me. My body twirls in the air. Spinning in circles, I see the sky then I see the ground. The ground that is getting so close. My concentration slipping in and out. Part of me wants to close my eyes and sleep. The other part focusing on surviving. I need to focus. I need to stop falling. Concentrate. Focus.

“(Y/N)!”

You gasped opening your eyes. The heart monitor was acting crazy. That loud, irritating monitor grinding that awful noise into your ears. That same annoying monitor that flew across the room shattering against a wall. You yelped. More panic seeped into you. More object began to shake as they slowly rose off of tables. You watched in horror. Your breathing erratic. Your mind stuck. You were falling and fast.

“No! Stop!” You clutched your head. The headache far worse than before. “I’m falling! Please, I can’t stop! Please, somebody help me!” You screamed. The ground clear. The paved road, Cisco and Barry in strange outfits, watching you in horror. Random citizens pointing and watching your demise. No one could save you.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N), you have to listen to me! You have to calm down. You’re safe. Look, you’re in a bed. Safe on the ground, okay?” It was Barry talking. “You’re not falling. You just need to calm down.”

Not falling? In a bed? You were in a bed. Sheets covered your legs. The mattress creaked and groaned when you made small movements. Wind didn’t whip in your ears. Your hair wasn’t flying. You were on the ground. Safe on the ground. You weren’t falling. Slowly, you let go of your head. Your headache subsided. All the objects in the air gently floated down. The group only stared at you with sorrow.

“Did,” your voice cracked. “Did I do that?”

They nodded. Barry stepped forward, “I’m guessing you don’t remember what a meta-human is?” You shook your head. He sighed, “It’s what you are. What I am, what Cisco is, and what Caitlin is. We have these abilities that others don’t.”

“But I never had these abilities before. I’m not a superhero.” That’s when they explained it. The particle accelerator. The dark matter. All these things that happened years ago. Years you don’t remember. “That can’t be right. No. I’ve only been in this city for a few months. It, no –“ The look on their faces confirmed it. You lost years of your memory. Years spent with these people you used to call friends. Years of fighting crime. Years of being a meta-human. All gone.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, “Will I get my memories back?”

“It’s possible. You obviously remember the accident. We could possible show you other things that could jumpstart your memories,” Caitlin explained. Yet, it sounded like she was holding back.

“But. I feel like you’re going to say but,” you said.

Caitlin sighed. “But, it might not work. The trauma you experienced might have repressed your memories to make it extremely difficult to resurface.”

“Oh,” was all you could manage.

“Hey, no doom and gloom, okay? We will help you get your memories back, we promise,” Cisco swore while everyone nodded.

You looked from person to person and they all had this determination. This spark. This hope that anything was possible. Staring at them, you felt it. You held onto the hope wishing they were right. You wanted your memories back, you wanted to call them your friends, you wanted your life back.

“I hope you’re right,” you mumbled.

PART 2

#the flash #the flash cw #the flash imagine #the flash one shot #the flash x reader #team flash #team flash x reader #caitlin snow #barry allen #cisco ramon #iris west #harry wells

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eamesandbellamyaremyheaven · 6 years

Text

Bloodreina - The New Avenger Chapter Two (The 100/Marvel)

Prologue || Chapter One

Summary: The 100 AU in the Marvel Universe What if Octavia and Bellamy joined the Avengers after escaping HYDRA’s Ark Project? Set after the Battle of New York.

Pairings: All platonic for now: Steve x Octavia, Avengers x Octavia, Bellamy x Octavia, Bellamy x Raven, Octavia x Raven, Boodreina x Winter Soldier, more to come soon…

Word Count: 1786

Warnings: Bad writing maybe? (sorry about that)

A/N: We are finally getting a glimpse of Octavia’s past, in the Ark, and the people she dealt with, specially our beloved deadly assassin Winter Soldier…

Chapter Two - Winter is Coming

“Session number 4, subject Octavia Blake” Fury said out loud, leading off another recorded session. Since they joined SHIELD, one of Fury’s conditions was that once a week Octavia would join him for the course of an hour, and she would tell give him all the information she had about the Ark, the missions she executed for HYDRA and the assets she came in contact with. “Last session, we talked about the day they took you and the serum. Now, let’s talk about your training”

“The serum did not work as they expected, my body didn’t suffer physical changes, but inside, everything was hyped” Octavia started, her voice nonchalant, as if she was telling a story from a book “I was taken to a cell everyday, where my tutor would beat me up until I defended myself, or passed out” Octavia brought her eyes down to her hands as she spoke that last part, the pain inflicted to her all those years ago still very present in her mind

“Who was he?”

“They only called him “the asset”. I was not allowed to address him during training, but during the missions we were assigned he answered to Soldat, or soldier” Octavia closed her eyes briefly, the mere mention of the name giving her chills “he only spoke to give me orders, in both Russian or English. He was a machine, very precise and brutal, his strength and speed enhanced by the serum, without a doubt. He had a metal arm, complete from shoulder to hand.”

Present day

In the distance, Octavia could hear the sounds of machines beeping while the doctors worked on Fury. The sound was barely an echo, and her eyes were focused on nothing. She had become numb a lifetime ago, when she became Bloodreina, the Red Queen. Her life was blood and death, and to love, to mourn, only the weak could afford.

“Is he gonna make it?” Natasha asked as she entered the room, coming to stand by Octavia’s side, in front of the window. Her voice was shaking, and Octavia could tell that the man meant a lot to the spy.

“I don't know” Octavia simply stated

“Rogers, tell me about the shooter.”

“He's fast and strong. Had a metal arm.” Could he be…?

“Ballistics?”

“Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable.” Maria said, coming closer to the group

“Soviet-made.” Octavia concluded, to surprise of everyone in the room. All eyes were now on her, and as she was about to speak the sound of the machines alerted them to Fury’s body shutting down. Doctors worked fast, to no use. After a few shocks with the defibrillator, the flatline in the screen persisted.

“Time of death, 1:03 a.m.”

***

Octavia waited outside the room while the other three agents said their farewell to the director. She wanted to feel sad for the loss of the man, she truly wanted, but she felt nothing. So, she stood in the hallway, leaned against the wall, until she heard Steve’s voice calling out Natasha. The woman came rushing from the room, the super-soldier right behind her.

“Why was Fury in your apartment?” Natasha asked him straightforward

“I don't know.” Steve replied. But he was lying.

Rumlow approached the group, turning his attention to the soldier “Cap, they want you back at SHIELD.”

“Yeah, give me a second”

“They want you now” he insisted, his voice more desperate this time.

“Okay” Steve shut him down, annoyance cleared in his tone. He turned to Natasha, who stared a him with a sad smile “You're a terrible liar” she simply stated before walking away from them.

Octavia was about to do the same when she felt Steve’s grip on her arm holding her in her place “Fury said not to trust in anyone” he said, as his hand roamed down from her forearm towards her hand “But my guts tell me I can trust you” he sat something small in her palm, before squeezing it shut with his hand “Go home, I’ll call you as soon as I can”

“Okay” she replied, her eyes focused on their joined hands, as his gaze lingered on her “Stay safe” he finally said, turning around, walking away from her and towards the STRIKE team

She stood motionless until they were all out of her sight. Then, slowly, she opened her hand, revealing a flash-drive in her palm, the same flash-drive they had collected the intel from the Lemurian Star.

“That was sweet” Natasha’s voice ringed in Octavia’s ear. She was caught off guard, never realizing the spy was watching so closely, and as she turned around to face her, the red-haired swiftly stole the pen from her hand, backing away from her reach

“Give it back!” Octavia hissed, trying to reach for it, but Natasha dodged “Why did Steve gave this to you?” she said, as sh inspected the pen

“Cause he trusts me” Octavia stated with a proud tone. Natasha’s face dropped

“But you don’t trust me” the spy smiled sadly. Natasha had trained Octavia since she joined SHIELD, and after all those hours together, days actually, Octavia still had no idea who the woman was. Still, she had seen the way she mourned Fury, silent tears rolling down her face, and she knew, deep inside, the same way Steve knew he could trust her, Octavia could trust in Natasha.

“I want to” Octavia said, and Natasha froze. She took advantage of that few seconds to retrieve the flash-drive, hiding it away in the inside pocket of her jacket.

“How do you know the Winter Soldier?”

The name made Octavia stop dead in her tracks. She turned her attention back to the other woman, who was gazing her in wonder “He was my mentor, back in the Ark”

“Do you know how to track him?” Natasha asked, expectantly

“No, it’s like chasing a ghost” Octavia said, looking down at her hand. Whatever was in that flash-drive, would lead them to him “but let’s find out what he wants”

“Don’t you want to wait for the Captain?” Natasha’s smile was devious, which made Octavia rolled her eyes to her

“I think we can handle this by ourselves”

***

The two women made their way through the mall, dressed in hoodies and jeans, blending in the crowd. Steve was already waiting, leaning against a wall. He had called Octavia when they were on their way there, after he ran out of SHIELD. He was now a wanted man, a traitor. They agreed on meeting on a public place, it would be easier to access the flash-drive and make it out before the STRIKE team could get to them.

Steve walked fast towards them, as they made their way to the MAC store

“First rule of going on the run is, don't run, walk.” Natasha greeted him, jokingly

“If I run in these shoes, they're gonna fall off.” Steve mocked, as both girls cracked a laugh. They approach an isolated computer, and Octavia handled Natasha the flash-drive. From the three of them, she was the one with the most hacking expertise.

“The drive has a Level Six homing program, so as soon as we boot up SHIELD will know exactly where we are.” Natasha knowingly stated

“How much time do we have?” Steve asked, setting himself by her left side, while Octavia stood on her right

“Uh...about nine minutes from...” Natasha popped the flash-drive into the computer, initiating the program “Now” she worked the keyboard, trying to gain access to the drive “Fury was right about that ship, somebody's trying to hide something. This drive is protected by some sort of AI, it keeps rewriting itself to counter my commands.”

“Can you override it?” Octavia asked

“The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me. Slightly. I'm gonna try running a tracer. This is a program that SHIELD developed to track hostile malware, so if we can't read the file, maybe we can find out where it came from.”

“Can I help you guys with anything?” a voice called them, their focus shifted from the screen towards a male Apple employee.

Natasha was fast in her thought “Oh, no. My fiance and sis was just helping me with some honeymoon destinations.”

“Right! We're getting married.”

“Congratulations. Where do you guys thinking about going?”

Octavia looked at the monitor, seeing the signal traced to somewhere in New Jersey “The lovebirds are going to New Jersey!”

Steve frowned at her. Traitor. It takes everything in her willpower not to ruin their cover, and laugh in Steve’s face.

“Oh” the employee said, as he looked at Steve for a few moments. Did he recognize him? “I have the exact same glasses!”

“Wow, you two are practically twins.” Octavia mocked, aloof to the man

“Yeah, I wish. Specimen. Uh...if you guys need anything, I've been Aaron.”

“Thank you” Steve said, as the man, Aaron, walked away, and he turned his attention back at the spy “You said nine minutes, come on”

“Shh, relax. Got it! ...Wheaton, NJ. You know it?”

“I used to. Let's go” Steve pulled the flash drive from the computer and they walk out of the store.

“Meet me in the south-side exit. I’ll get us a car” Octavia said, as she walked away from them.

After a few minutes of waiting for Steve and Nat in her newly possessed vehicle, both agents left the building hurriedly, Steve’s face red as a tomato “What happened?” Octavia asked, as Steve sat in the passengers seat without a word, and Natasha got into the backseat, smiling widely.

“I think Rogers had his first kiss since the war”

A/N: thank you for all of you who read the previous chapter, I would love some feedback, and since I never done this, I wonder if anyone wants to be tagged, just comment, or dm-me!

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