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nebulousbrainsoup · 11 months

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PAIRING: biker!kang yeosang x fem!reader GENRE: romance, strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, lil bit of angst, teeny bit of comedy SUMMARY: more often than not, a life lived in Night City is carefully crafted, slotted firmly between preapproved lines—or it is if you value keeping it. whispers of freedom float just beyond the city's neon lights, and it's only through a chance encounter with the most unlikely of characters that you finally start to hear them. TAGS/WARNINGS: explicit content, minors do not interact!, biker!yeosang, biker!seonghwa, misuse of lore terms, extensive control of emotions, artificial intelligence, food, shady government tampering, mysterious disappearance/implied death of unnamed bg character, near-death experiences, mild motorcycle wreck, injury, language, discussions of government corruption, alcohol consumption, discussions of being unhappy with life, unbetaed & barely edited, pov shifts, inspired by outlaw teasers/posters & @hwaightme's This World (Bai is well aware of my shenanigans); tell me if i missed anything pls! WORD COUNT: 12.6k PLAYLIST: Don't Stop - ATEEZ ; Control - Halsey ; Paranoia on Main Street - Demi the Daredevil ; ERROR - The Warning ; Ghost - Halsey ; Virtual Reality - rey ; Aqua Regia - Sleep Token ; AMOUR - The Warning ; BURN IT DOWN - Linkin Park ; Z - The Warning ; mercy - KiNG MALA ; EVOLVE - The Warning A/N: it's finally here, and with a playlist too!!! (yes it's a lot of The Warning, but this whole fic is ERROR-coded i had to) this fic has taken me close to a month to write, it is my baby, so pls treat it with care <3 i have to give world's biggest shout out to Bai for inspiring this absolute beast and for giving me the privilege of tipping my hat to it and her in my first full-length ateez fic. i hope it lives up to expectations. much love, ash tagging the homies: @jaehunnyy & @justhere4kpop

nsfw tags under the cut ; masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

this work is 18+. this is a friendly reminder that if i catch a minor interacting with this work, they will be blocked. so don't :)

A/N 2: y'all remember the opening to the Kingdom performance of Rhythm Ta? "The disease is human emotion"?? well, that was echoing in my head on a very obnoxious repeat, and this fic (and its smut scene) absolutely reflects that. you've been warned. NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: explicit consent included, protected sex, yeosang keeps a condom in his wallet (don't do that!), they're both switches p.2, outdoor sex, pet/nicknames (doll, angel, Sangie), hair pulling, lil bit of marking, yeosang's voice, oral (fem receiving), handjob, decently fast-paced, also emotionally charged; lmk if i missed anything!

It was always unnerving, delivering in this Sector. He'd done so countless times without incident, but even so, Yeosang could feel the infinite eyes of the Guardians upon him. His first trip to this particular building had left him shaken, turning down any more legitimate, above-board deliveries for the rest of the night and hightailing it back to the rest of the Blue Birds as soon as his duty was done. Mars had been less than pleased, scowling at him as he scolded, “As far as they can tell, you’re a delivery boy. There will be no reason for suspicion until you run.” A valid point, certainly, but one Yeosang had trouble reminding himself of while trapped in that neon maze.

The next night, he dutifully shoved down the nausea that crept up his throat and the shudder that threatened to rip down his spine as he stared up at the looming steel pillar in front of him. Plastic bag in hand, he took a deep breath and pressed the building's buzzer, trying to find comfort in the shadows and the familiar blue of the lights.

The intercom crackling to life startled him, nausea welling up inside him again as he spoke, “Blue Bird Delivery with an order for Y/N.”

“Come in, I’ll meet you down in the lobby!”

It took a moment, that first night, to recover from hearing a human voice rather than the monotone, robotic rasp of a Guardian coming from a government building. He hadn’t expected life or warmth to greet him amidst the blinding lights of the lobby, but both did as you stepped out of the elevator, still in your lab coat and gloves, smiling softly and subtly at him as you patted your pockets. “Shit, I forgot what I owe you.”

Something about the way he looked as he tilted his head in confusion, helmet still on and bandana still pulled up around his nose, had you focusing all your remaining willpower on not doubling over in laughter. “You paid online. You don’t owe me anything.”

His turn to bite back laughter came then, standing there with his arms folded and his lower lip between his teeth as he watched the gears in your head turn.

“Long day, hm?” The words left his mouth before he even registered them, and as your eyes snapped back to his visor, his heart jumped into his throat.

To his surprise and relief, you laughed, and the tension in both of your bodies drained simultaneously. “It’s two in the morning and I’m having my dinner delivered to work,” you countered, “you tell me.”

Behind his mask, Yeosang smiled. “Have a good evening.”

Nothing about the anonymous man on the moped should have piqued your interest. But that same night, as you settled in the empty employee cafeteria, the stranger seemed unwilling to vacate your mind. Sure, he’d joked around with you; that was unusual in this Sector with the plethora of Guardians milling about at all hours, but not unheard of; and it was a little odd he hadn’t taken his helmet off. Neither of those things, you thought, were good enough justifications for the thought that circled your mind on repeat until sleep finally began to take you; when can I see him again?

As luck would have it, the answer turned out to be “soon” and “frequently.” You and your team were already a week behind the requested lead time on your current build, and as the days dragged on, the microchip’s flaws only seemed to multiply exponentially—much to your annoyance; you’d warned the design team, after all. Of course, the longer it took, the worse the hours got. By the time you made it home after twelve or more hours locked in the clean room, being leered at by eyeless creatures and pulled into at least one far-too-heated debate over a fix or adjustment every two hours, it was all you could do to make it into bed. Cooking was not an option; you lived on delivery.

It wasn’t always Blue Bird—they seemed to reserve themselves for the late night and early morning; but when it was, it was always him. The same jacket, same jeans, same fingerless gloves and bandana obscuring his features, and the same warm, silky baritone greeting you from underneath it all. He rarely joked with you again, seeming to become skittish as more of your team members stayed later and the late-night Guardian presence increased, but you continued to exchange basic pleasantries. Your manners wouldn’t leave you in the face of tighter security. Still, you couldn’t blame him in the slightest—you yourself wanted to have a word with whatever psychopath had designed their ‘faces’—but you couldn’t help missing the teasing lilt his voice held that first night.

Around a month after your late nights became mandatory, you had trudged into work as usual, with four hours of sleep and the largest coffee cup in your arsenal the only things keeping you upright, and the chaos you were met with nearly made you walk back out. Your production manager was nowhere to be found, leaving you and the rest of your coworkers to scramble to find something, anything that could direct your workflow for the day. It was you who, in sorting through the papers in and on the desk in his office, figured out why. Every ounce of your self-control went toward keeping your eyes from shifting to meet the cameras as you shoved the incriminating papers back where you had found them, rising to your feet to sift through the mess on the desktop once again. Somehow, even with your shaking hands and unfocused gaze, you managed to find what you were looking for, pulling the newest revision of the drawing from a stack you were positive you’d already searched. Hidden, maybe, you thought.

Returning to the clean room and pinging your team melded hazily into going over the drawing, which faded into you handing out tasks on autopilot until, finally, you were left alone at the work table you had claimed as your own. Falling back into your chair, you finally let yourself acknowledge what you had seen—drawings. Dozens of them, tucked—no, pointedly hidden away between the various books and manuals stored in the bottom drawer that, until this point, you could have sworn was always locked. They weren't unusual for your production manager to have in the slightest, under normal circumstances—their desk was usually covered in white sheets.

But between the loyal employee’s unannounced “sick day” and the amount of White-Out painted across months of drawings for new tech you and your team had been having unprecedented trouble with… These weren’t normal circumstances, and you figured they wouldn’t be coming back to work any time soon. Before you could lose yourself wondering what exactly this development would mean for you and your team, the whirring of a camera lens zooming snapped you out of your thoughts, and you quickly buried yourself in your work once more. Prying would only get you in trouble.

The morning passed in a blur, you spent your lunch hour staring at the stark white wall behind your newest, least jaded coworker’s head as they prattled on, and before you knew it, those still intent on keeping eight hour shifts were beginning to filter out of the building. The ever-present hum of machines and voices slowly dwindled until you were alone with the buzzing lights overhead and the sound of your own breathing. Most days, this was when you got your best work done. No one else was here to bother you, fewer people meant fewer Guardians breathing down your neck, and you could make any snide comments or use any language you wished without offending the sensibilities of anyone nearby. But tonight, once your last coworker had waved goodbye and the click of the door shutting behind them had finished echoing ominously behind them, the usually comforting silence that enveloped you brought with it a sense of unshakable dread. Shifting uncomfortably, you let your eyes wander over the empty clean room, lifting your head nearly imperceptibly.

You wanted to leave. Every hair on your body was standing on edge, and every fiber of your being was screaming at you to run, to get as far away from this Sector as you could. Something was going on here, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that the crosshairs were zeroing in on you next. But running—leaving, you corrected yourself; you have nothing to run from—early would only arouse suspicion, wouldn’t it? You’d lived your life slotted neatly between the lines the government had drawn, but that hadn’t kept you from hearing the horror stories of those who toed those lines or, heaven forbid, stepped across them. There was no reason to feel this way.

Until.

For as large as the Guardians were, the things were nearly silent in their movement. If you hadn’t tinkered time and again with their abilities yourself, you’d believe the stories that they could teleport. It was in front of you in the time it took you to blink, and you nearly jumped out of your skin as your eyes met the chrome monstrosity that was its ‘face.’ Gingerly setting down the delicate tools and microchip in your shaking hands, you set carefully practiced neutrality on your face and suppressed a shudder as its message began to play.

“L/N Y/N. Requested by Upper Management. Follow.”

In seconds, ice filled your veins. If anyone had asked, you’d tell them, truthfully, that it was survival instinct alone which carried you to your destination. When you finally came back into yourself, you were staring at the imposing wooden doors you knew belonged to your location’s operational manager. Steeling yourself with a deep breath, you knocked, and were immediately met with your manager’s voice ushering you in.

“Hello, sir,” you greeted, bowing lowly as you shuffled over the threshold.

“To you as well, Miss L/N,” he offered in return from behind his desk, snapping shut the file in his hands. “Please, have a seat. We have much to discuss.”

“So what’s our next move, then?” Yeosang chewed on the inside of his lip thoughtfully, listening to the silence on the other end of his comms grow ever louder. “Seonghwa?”

“If I had an answer, I’d tell you,” his companion spat back, leaning further down over his handlebars and pulling ahead of him. It didn’t matter that they needed a new game plan within the next few hours, he was done talking. With a sigh, Yeosang sat back, rolling his own throttle forward to keep pace as he fell in behind his friend.

Night City sped by in a blur as they rode in silence, eyes and ears trained to the streets they were patrolling. Small houses gave way to apartment buildings and local shops with no movement on the streets, but still the tension in Yeosang’s shoulders rose with each passing minute. Finally, as they passed into the city center and neon skyscrapers began to loom over their heads, he could stand it no longer. He felt like he was suffocating, and they were miles off-course for their patrol anyway.

“Mars. Something feels off,” he called, pulling off his throttle and sitting up straighter.

There was silence for a beat as the other man pulled further ahead, and Yeosang watched his helmet turn. “What are you seeing that I’m not?”

“Nothing, I just have this feeling—”

“Well, keep an eye and an ear out, and we’ll deal with it when we have to.”

He sighed, tossing a narrowed side-eye Seonghwa’s way before turning his gaze back to the streets and leaving him with his thoughts. Maybe it was just this Sector, he reasoned. The artificial gaze of the cameras, drones, and Guardians was enough to put anyone on edge. Couple that with the time he’d been spending here, making deliveries of all kinds, and of course he was feeling on edge. It was nothing.

It took another block for the itching anxiety to come back full-force. “Mars.”

A sigh crackled over his comms. “I don’t see or hear anything, Hermes. It’s probably just the surveillance systems getting to your head.”

Yeosang sighed, nearly resigning his edginess to paranoia again. Until, out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. “On your left, look.”

A person was quickly making their way out of the government building he brought most of Blue Bird’s above-board deliveries to, oblivious to the two motorcycles sailing in their direction. He saw the moment Seonghwa made his decision, weight settling further over his handlebars as he shifted into a higher gear. In moments like this, he thought—moments where his desperate search for adrenaline dragged someone else a little too close to the line they delivered others across; the moniker of the ancient god of war fit his friend a little too well.

He knew the drill by now; fall back, open mid-distance communication with whatever unit was patrolling here for clean-up—just in case he cut a little too close to you—and meet back—wait.

His head snapped up from his watch, abandoning his redirect halfway through in favor of surging forward to catch up with Seonghwa. “Mars, don’t!”

The shout had Seonghwa’s helmet snapping up in alarm, his weight shifting back and throwing both him and his precious Suzuki Hayabusa off-balance. For a moment, he tried desperately to downshift and tame the beast under him, a cause that quickly became lost between his own speed and the downhill slope of the street. You had frozen in your tracks at the sight of the two machines barreling toward you, one now out of control, and Yeosang’s heart skipped a beat or two as the events in front of him began to unfold in slow motion.

You had been sent home early—well, early for you, anyway; the weight of your new position heavy on your shoulders. Production manager. It was everything you should have wanted—everything you had wanted at one point; but the thought of coming in to work tomorrow morning, moving your meager belongings out of your locker and into your former boss’ office to pretend everything was fine had bile rising in your throat. Your meeting with upper management had shed no light on the mysterious disappearance of the last person in charge, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that a target had been painted on your back now, too. Maybe that was just paranoia, though—you had no plans to sabotage any products, after all. What reason would anyone have to make you disappear?

Lost in your thoughts as you began the trek home, you failed to drag your eyes from your feet, only noticing the two headlights careening toward you when the rumble of their engines was close enough to feel in the ground below you. You froze, stunned as your heart jumped into your throat. Was this the dread you had been feeling? Was this the curse of your new position? There was little you could do about it now, you supposed, staring down what you were sure was certain death. It was silly, but you couldn’t help wondering whether your new delivery boy friend would miss you.

“Shit!” Seonghwa hissed, the curse crackling in Yeosang’s earpiece.

Your shoulders tensed and you took a step back and raised your hands, clearly bracing for the oncoming disaster. Mere seconds before your fate would have been sealed, he watched the unimaginable unfold in front of his eyes; Seonghwa, heeding his words of caution, threw his weight to the right, sending his bike skidding away from the both of you. The grunt he let out as he hit the pavement weaved together with the screech of metal on asphalt, a discordant symphony echoing through his helmet. You added no harmony of your own to it, only flinching as the man who would’ve been your doom rolled to a halt at your feet, visor reflecting familiar blue neon as he stared at the sky. He saw rather than heard the breath you let out, watching your shoulders drop from your ears as you stumbled away from Seonghwa’s prone form.

“What the fuck,” you gasped out, one hand splaying out over your chest as you caught your breath. Adrenaline was coursing through you, leaving your heart pounding and hands shaking as the other biker sidled up next to you.

“I’ll say,” the man below you grumbled, slowly climbing back to his feet. He winced as he settled his weight on his right leg, limping heavily as he made his way back to his friend and leaned against their bike. “You should probably look before you cross the street next time.”

“I was halfway into the road, you ass!” You fumed, snarling at the man before you in stark contrast to the last time you’d met a masked stranger. “You could’ve gone around me—it’s not like you were driving a car!”

Yeosang couldn’t help the giggle he let out at the sight of you—mild-mannered, eternally frazzled you—standing toe-to-toe with the infamous Mars, masked vigilante leader of the Blue Bird biker gang. He bit his lip quickly, hoping his mic hadn’t picked up the quiet noise.

No such luck, it seemed, as the other man whipped around to face him. Somehow, the visor was more intimidating than the scathing glare he knew lay behind it. “Something funny?”

He shook his head, the action dizzying him just slightly when coupled with the weight of his helmet and the adrenaline cooling in his veins, and raised his hands in surrender. “Nope,” he hummed, nodding over to the wrecked Hayabusa. “You think you can get that thing to the shop, or do I need to do it for you?”

Seonghwa shifted his weight, testing his injuries lightly. “Help me get her up and I’ll take it from there,” he muttered.

Something about the man with the cruiser was familiar, you decided, as you watched the pair cross to the bike and set it back upright. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but between his voice and the way he carried himself, he reminded you of someone. You’d never seen either of their bikes before, though, and both of these individuals struck you as the type who were connected to their respective machines. You were still racking your brain for the answer as his friend pulled away, sparing you no apology, and it wasn’t until he reached up, tugging at the chains around his neck with familiar, skeleton-gloved hands, that it hit you.

“You’re the Blue Bird Delivery guy.”

Yeosang froze in his tracks, blinking and stunned as he scrambled for an excuse. “I, uh…”

“Your friend just almost killed me. The least you could do is be honest,” you prodded, crossing your arms over your chest.

The way he looked down told you there was a sheepish smile on his face, and you wanted nothing more than for him to finally remove his visor so you could bask in it. “Yeah, I am.”

“Does my near-death experience mean I get free delivery next time?” you quipped. The laugh that left him this time was full-bodied, heard even through the thick padding and metal of his helmet. You decided then and there that you would stop at nothing to hear that sound again.

The grin you gave him in exchange was sunny, another mark of your warmth in the midst of Night City’s eternal chill. “I might be able to arrange something for you, sure,” he hummed, his smile evident in his tone. “But that might end up being my paycheck you’re cutting into.”

You shrugged. “I’ll tip the difference.”

“Then there’s no point!” Another cheery laugh bubbled up from him, and you found yourself leaning closer to the delivery boy-turned-biker as you shared in his joy. For all the leather and mystery, he didn’t seem all that intimidating; he was nothing like his counterpart had been. He seemed shy and maybe even friendly behind the facade, and the interactions you’d had with him before seemed to corroborate your guess. Again, that familiar feeling of longing that had struck the first night came back to you as he took a step back toward his bike.

Luckily for you, your mouth worked faster than your brain. “Would you want to maybe go get coffee with me?”

Your inability to read his expression meant the silence you were met with had you wanting to pull your words back into your mouth; to rewind time so you’d never spoken; so you’d looked up and seen Delivery Boy’s idiot friend speeding at you; so you’d never ordered from Blue Bird in the first place—

“I can’t, tonight,” he muttered. If he removed his helmet, you would be able to see the tips of his ears turning red. “But maybe another time?”

Your heart sank. When would you ever have time again? “Um, maybe. We could exchange information?”

He tensed, shaking his head gently. “I know where to find you.”

Again, you felt yourself deflate. “Can I… Could you at least tell me your name? So I know who to contact if your friend ever tries to kill me again?” Your attempt to lighten the darkening mood was half-hearted at best, but you tried for a weak smile.

For the third time that night, Yeosang froze. It felt like every camera and Guardian in the vicinity had their lenses trained on him as you asked what was, to anyone other than Yeosang and the rest of his friends, the simplest question in the world. This time, he recovered quickly, unwilling to draw more suspicion to himself than Seonghwa already had with his stunt. “Hermes.”

Your brow furrowed, and he found himself wanting to swipe the crease between them away. “Just Hermes?”

He nodded, stepping back to his bike and tossing his leg over the body, feeling suddenly like a rat in a trap again. “Just Hermes, for now. You can find out the rest later.” He sent you a wink as his bike roared to life under him, only to hang his head when he realized you couldn’t see it.

You tilted your head at him as his shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Hermes?”

“Yeah, I, uh… I shouldn’t try to flirt. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

Staring after him, still in the middle of the street, that longing feeling pulled at you again, following his dimming taillight over the horizon.

He was flirting?

“You did what?!”

Yeosang flinched. He was very rarely on the receiving end of Seonghwa’s wrath, but between the wreck and his… slip up with you earlier, he found himself squarely in the sights of Mars.

“What was I supposed to do, give her my full legal name?” he argued, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning, trying to at least somewhat match the energy in the warehouse. “That would’ve been a death wish.”

“So you gave her your callsign instead?” Yeosang shrugged, earning a scoff in return. If he were being honest with himself, he didn’t know why he’d done what he’d done either. “What you should have done was hopped on your bike and come straight back here, like we always do.”

His eyes turned to the floor, and for a moment, everything was silent. “She recognized me,” he muttered, quiet voice still managing to echo like a whipcrack between them.

“You took your helmet off in the middle of the city?!” Seonghwa was on his feet now, yelling, and Yeo might have been scared, if not for the panic flashing behind his friend’s eyes.

“No, no, I’m not that stupid.” The older man settled, leaning back against the beam beside him once more, arms crossing over his chest. “My voice, and the gloves, I think. She didn’t say, but she pinned me, and I panicked. I couldn’t just turn tail and run; that would’ve looked worse.”

Finally, a smile cracked the cold demeanor Yeosang had been facing down, and the tension between the two men split as Seonghwa shook his head in exasperation. “If you make me wreck my baby again, I’m making you pay to fix it.”

The comment earned a hearty eye roll as he shifted his attention back to the bike he’d been outfitting upon Seonghwa’s arrival. “As if Yunho makes you pay.” The other man hummed dismissively, and he chuckled quietly. “Could’ve gone a lot worse, anyway. She could’ve had the Guardians on us in seconds for you running her down.”

Seonghwa frowned, staring thoughtfully at his freshly patched bike for a moment. “She could have. Why didn’t she?” He murmured, eyes flickering back up to Yeosang.

“I… hadn’t considered it.” The younger blinked, matching the elder’s frown and sitting back on the ground. Why wouldn’t you call the authorities on them? They were at your beck and call, hiding just beyond the gates of the building you’d been in front of at the time. Most people in your Sector would have quickly taken advantage of the convenience, leaving the two outlaws to flee for their lives. It wouldn’t have been the first time, nor did Yeosang think it would have been the last.

“Do you know what she does there?” He blinked out of his thoughts, shaking his head. “You might consider finding out, since you’re friendly enough to be recognized. She’s clearly not as far up the government’s ass as some of the rest of them; she could be a good in, since we just lost our last one.”

His frown deepened at the suggestion, stomach turning at the thought. “She might just do grunt work. I deliver to her a lot—she’s always there.”

“Worth a shot, though. I’ll take anything we can get at this point.”

“Maybe,” he hummed, chewing on the inside of his lip.

It was an excuse to see you, at least.

After your little run-in with Hermes and his friend, Blue Bird Delivery was out of service in your Sector. You couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that echoed in your chest every time you checked their app; you’d been hoping that your lack of a report would have kept the authorities off their trail. No such luck, it seemed. The longer time dragged on with no Blue Bird and no word from your faceless friend, the more your worry grew, and after a week and a half of radio silence, you were beginning to lose hope that he was just lying low somewhere. Until, two weeks after you had nearly been run over, their delivery started up again. You couldn’t help but smile as you clicked through your usual order from your favorite restaurant and watched as it was confirmed.

Fourty-five minutes later, your phone pinged to signal its arrival and you made your way to the lobby with a spring in your step. You barely bit back the smile that threatened to take over your face—keenly aware of the Guardian stationed outside of the elevators—as your phone buzzed again, this time to signal the ringing of the building’s doorbell. Forgoing the usual pleasantries, you quickly made your way to the door, this time stepping outside and letting it shut behind you.

It was unbelievable, really, that you’d managed to peg the edgy biker from two weeks ago as this same moped-riding, unassuming delivery driver. You thanked whatever being was listening for your attention to detail.

He offered you a small wave, fingers twitching in the air, and if there had been a doubt left in your mind that they were the same person, it would have left then. You bit the inside of your lip as you stepped forward and took ahold of the takeout bag in his hand, bowing to and thanking him.

“So, about that coffee,” he murmured quickly, his words overlapping with your own pleasantries as you both stood upright again. You blinked, head tilting in mild surprise as he continued. “When are you off work?”

“I, uh… I could be off in like an hour and a half?” You offered, smiling subtly at his visor.

“I’ll be waiting. I hope you’re okay with motorcycles.”

You could hear the little smile behind his many masks, and your heart fluttered. “I’ll see you then.”

“Will I get to see your face?” He stopped in his tracks at your bold question, and you clapped a hand over your mouth. “Sorry, I— If you’re not comfortable—”

“If you don’t mind a little bit of a drive, then maybe.”

You looked at the ground, taking your lower lip between your teeth to force back your grin. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

It was a risk, Yeosang knew, revealing his identity. Seonghwa wouldn’t be happy when he found out; but what was another bout of his anger in the grand scheme of things, really? If the risk turned out to be worth the reward, he’d end up back in his friend’s good graces at record speed—and he had a gut feeling that would be the outcome. He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of curiosity and wonder he’d experienced when you greeted him that first night, full of bright life and warmth in the middle of a desolate steel tundra. Something about you was different from the others that roamed your Sector—you’d proven that tenfold two weeks ago; and Yeosang was more than happy for the opportunity to figure out exactly what that was. Meeting you, really meeting you, was the first step.

It was a risk, sure, but a calculated one.

The closer the clock ticked toward your designated meeting time, the antsier Yeosang got. He’d finished the rest of his deliveries in record speed and closed things down for the night, stopping back by the warehouse just long enough to inform Seonghwa of his plans and make the shift from delivery boy to biker. The elder was yelling something after him that Yeosang didn’t quite catch, tossing a wave over his shoulder before the door clanged shut behind him. He was back in your Sector in record speed, anticipation building in his veins the closer the clock ticked to your meeting.

And as it ticked past, he began to feel trapped. More and more as the seconds ticked past into minutes, he found himself glimpsing his watch, glancing warily over his shoulder and at the door of your building, waiting for you to emerge. Five minutes turned to ten, and ten to twenty; he’d nearly considered calling this a lost cause before you finally made your way from the building, eyes darting around the street as you stepped onto the sidewalk. He watched your face fall just slightly as you saw no sign of him, only to brighten in the next moment as he flicked his headlight back on. Stepping out of his hiding place, he pulled one hand out of his coat pocket, giving you the same wave he had earlier in the evening. He looked ridiculous, you thought, halfway between your delivery boy and the biker you’d met briefly—the same long, black and red leather coat, but this time sporting the same helmet and goggles he wore on his moped.

Barely biting back your grin, you nearly skipped over to him, and he beamed behind his bandana. “I wasn’t sure you were still coming,” he hummed.

You looked down and huffed a little sigh, feeling heat rising to the tips of your ears. “I’m sorry, paperwork just took a little longer than I expected tonight. I’m still adjusting.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry. I know what your hours can be like.” Again, you heard the smile in his voice, and you wanted nothing more than to see it. “I wouldn’t have blamed you, anyway. If I were going out to an undisclosed location with a mysterious, masked stranger, I’d be wary, too.”

You giggled softly, and Yeosang’s chest got tighter. He wanted to bottle up that sound and wear it around his neck, close enough for him to pull out and listen to any chance he got. “You don’t feel like a stranger.”

The blush that rose to Yeosang’s cheeks was, frankly, embarrassing, and he was more thankful than ever for his need to remain anonymous. “Neither do you,” he murmured in return.

Reaching down to the backpack he’d dropped at his feet, he unlatched the helmet from it, offering it out to you. “When do you have to be back at work?”

You blinked, tilting your head at him and taking the offered helmet. “I have tomorrow off, actually. New position, new hours.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it when we get where we’re going, then.”

You’d been entirely unprepared for the feeling of riding a motorcycle, much less riding one with Hermes. When the growl of the engine kicked up beneath you, you’d found yourself clinging tighter to his middle, earning a low chuckle that you felt more than heard. The city streets gave you some time to adjust and by the time you reached its outskirts, your heart rate had mostly returned to normal. As he took you past the little rows of houses that marked the beginning of the edge of Night City and into the warehouse district that followed, though, it picked up again.

What were you doing?

You hadn’t told anyone where you were going or who you were with; you didn’t even know who you were with, not really, anyway. A few passing interactions didn’t count for “get to know you” material, in your humble opinion. His friend had nearly killed you, or at the very least nearly put you in the hospital. You had no clue what this man looked like and only had one name, which you were nearly certain was, itself, an alias.

This was easily the stupidest decision you had ever made.

As he pulled to a stop just before the city limit, the desert sprawled out in front of you, and you loosened your hold around his middle. To your surprise, he noticed immediately, turning over his shoulder to glance at you before pulling your hands tighter around him again.

“Only a few more minutes, I promise. Hold on tight.”

His voice was like magic, washing over you and soothing your nerves. It brought with it the familiarity and warmth you’d come to associate with Hermes; the warmth of the sun in a place where it had been blotted out. Shifting closer to him and squeezing him tighter, you nodded. “Let’s go.”

Riding through the desert was a rush entirely different than puttering through the streets of the city. Hermes had shifted his shoulders forward, picked his feet up, and sent you sailing into the cool night. You shivered as the wind whipped around you, slipping your cold hands under his jacket to seek heat you couldn’t find through the leather. He jolted slightly at the contact, helmet tilting back toward you for a split second, and you thought you felt him laugh again. It was terrifying, cold and dark, save for the strip of road illuminated by the headlight.

But it was also exhilarating. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as his speed climbed, and although you were freezing, the excuse to curl closer to Hermes was not unwelcome. It felt like freedom, being even five minutes outside of Night City, seeing never-ending darkness rather than eternal, artificial light, being here with someone you barely knew, taking the risk of a lifetime. Your initial fear was gone, replaced entirely with childlike wonder, and you let out a quiet giggle, relaxing just slightly as you gazed out at your surroundings.

You were almost a little disappointed when, as promised, Hermes began to slow a few minutes later, just as you were cresting the top of a bluff. When he had killed the engine and steadied his bike, he carefully pulled your arms from around him, swinging off of it to offer you a hand. You took it readily, leaning heavily on him as you stood on wobbly legs. He let out a quiet laugh as you stumbled into him just slightly, and you found yourself thankful for the helmet you still wore. Once you had gained your footing, he let you go, letting you remove the cumbersome thing before reaching for the pack he’d secured onto your back before your ride.

“Sorry again about that,” he muttered, “I really didn’t think before I decided to bring things along. It was either you or the storage compartment on the back.”

You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “Don’t worry about it, I needed it as much as you did. Holding onto my stuff the whole time would’ve been a pain.” Breathing a pleased sigh, you set your loaned helmet on the seat and turned to him.

He’d removed his own helmet and goggles, leaving only the bandana hiding him as he crouched in the sand, digging in his backpack. It was a little hard to tell whether his black hair was purposefully slicked back or simply still stuck in the same state his helmet had put it in, a few strands falling into his eyes. As he tucked them behind his ear, eyes narrowing in annoyance, your attention was drawn to the movement, and your gaze landed on the birthmark beside his left eye. Your jaw dropped open just slightly as you stared, taking a step forward and kneeling in front of him. Even with half of his face still hidden from you, you could tell Hermes was a fitting name for him—he truly did have the beauty of a Greek god.

Steely gray eyes flicked up as they registered the movement, and you felt the wind knocked out of you under their intensity. Just as quickly as they had snapped to you, they softened, and once again, you were left wondering how to reconcile your delivery boy with the vigilante-esque biker in front of you.

“I brought some blankets, snacks and soju. I figured we could stay for a little while, get to know each other,” he murmured, looking out to the horizon.

Was the dim light playing tricks on you, or were the tips of his ears turning pink?

You beamed at him, smiling wide with your teeth for the first time since you’d met, and Yeosang felt his heart flutter. It did that more frequently lately, it seemed.

“Sure, yeah. Does food mean I get to see the rest of your face?”

This time, you heard the giggle that left him, the sound wrapping you up like a warm hug. “That depends. You’re not going to drag me back to the Guardians by my hair if I end up being a wanted criminal, are you?”

“If I wanted to do that, I would’ve sent them after you and your friend two weeks ago.”

He sighed, breathing another laugh and looking at the ground, shaking his head. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair. Seriously, though. I might actually be a wanted criminal, and I might actually need you to confirm whether or not you’re going to turn me in.”

You blinked, brow furrowing for a moment. He couldn’t be serious. Sighing, you gave in. “No, I won’t drag you back to the authorities. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured, standing and pulling a blanket from his backpack. “Do you want to face toward or away from the city?”

You glanced behind you, back in the direction you had come from. The neon lights shone like a beacon in the distance, a slow gradient from electric blues and purples to fiery oranges and yellows as the city spread. Red tinted the edges of the amoebic mass of industry, giving the impression of a spreading fire or trickling blood. You shuddered.

“Away, please,” you murmured, and he nodded, spreading out the blanket to overlook the edge of the bluff, out into the quiet of the desert. Setting his bag at its edge, he gestured to it and moved back to his bike, pointing the headlight out in the direction you would be facing. You settled in, curling in on yourself and rubbing your arms for warmth against the chilly night.

Before you could dwell on it too much, something warm and heavy dropped onto your shoulders. Glancing up, you found Hermes had shed his coat and settled it over your shoulders, leaving him in a tank top and you blushing. You hadn’t expected a toned body underneath the puffy Blue Bird jacket he always wore, and you could barely tear your eyes away from him as he situated himself next to you. He was a little more than just fit, if his arms were anything to go by.

“So,” he began, leaning back on his hands, eyes fixed with yours on the horizon. “New job, you said? What are you doing now?”

You heaved a sigh, pulling his jacket tighter around your shoulders as your eyes turned to the ground. “Production management,” you murmured dejectedly. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shift to face you. “I got… Promoted, I guess. I don’t know why, because there are other people who’ve been there for years that I’m sure would be better at this than me, but…” you trailed off, sighing again, and when you glanced up, the concern in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. “I didn’t ask for it, but I couldn’t really turn it down.”

His eyebrows creased for a moment, something like disgust or anger flashing behind his gaze. “Why not?”

You shifted uncomfortably, gnawing at the inside of your lip for a moment. “Well, I would’ve been stupid to, for one. And no isn’t a very well-received word when you work for the government.”

He hummed thoughtfully, looking back out over the horizon. “You didn’t have any sort of warning?” You shook your head, catching him glancing at you from your peripheral. “Don’t people usually give a two-week notice or something?”

“They do when they don’t disappear without a trace.”

Yeosang shot upright at your words, eyes wide as he turned to you. “They what?”

You startled just slightly, turning to better face him. “He disappeared. No word, no sign. I got promoted the same day.”

“That’s… disturbing.”

You nodded, shifting to rest your chin on your knees, and he shifted closer, settling one arm behind you. Leaning into his side, you sighed. “It happens, sometimes, when people step a little too far out of line. Par for the course in Night City.” You heard him scoff and felt him nod as he wrapped his arm around you, giving you a quick squeeze that had you relaxing immediately.

“I’ve been wondering something,” he mused, breaking the silence that had begun stretching between the two of you. “Why didn’t you call the Guardians that night?”

The question caught you off-guard and you sat up straighter, brows furrowing together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, your building was right there, when you almost got flattened, and I think anyone else in your position would have taken full advantage of that fact. I know others in that Sector have—my friend’s had some pretty close calls before.”

You frowned, painting careful neutrality back on your features as you stared at the ground. If anything were going yo betray you, it would be your eyes. “I didn’t really… This isn’t a trap, is it? We’ve been over me not ratting you out, but how do I know you’re not trying to trick me into saying the wrong thing? I haven’t even—”

“Seen my face?” he finished, and you nodded. “Look at me, Y/N.”

Slowly, you raised your eyes, your heart skipping a beat or two as you caught sight of his bandana, now resting just above his collar. Excitement surged in your chest as you let your gaze flicker over his features, quickly morphing into confusion and a bit of panic. “You look familiar,” you murmured, shifting away from him. “This has got to be a trap, please don’t—”

“Y/N,” he soothed, his quiet baritone settling your frayed nerves just slightly. “I wouldn’t have anything to do with the government if my life depended on it. Which, I rather prefer the opposite thing I’ve got going on instead.”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, memories of his face flashing behind your eyes at lightning speed. Every bulletin, every news story, every poster that had displayed that same silhouette, described the same features you were staring at now, right down to the birthmark you’d been fantasizing about kissing. There were never any photos, but your mind had put together a decent enough replica.

Kang Yeosang was not the monster you had heard described in the media, you didn’t think. If he were, why hadn’t he taken his chance and poisoned your dinner? Why hadn’t he killed you the moment you were outside the city limits? Why hadn’t his friend just run you over? Where, in the slew of calls for his immediate arrest and reminders of how dangerous he and his friends were, was this man; the one who greeted you pleasantly, who made you laugh, and whose own giggles in return could warm you for days? You didn’t know what was real, what to believe anymore.

Despite yourself, you laughed. He tilted his head, an amused and wary expression on his face. “I’m sorry, I don’t— this is just—” you tried, gesturing between the two of you. “My delivery guy is Kang Yeosang, one of the most wanted criminals in Night City. It’s kind of ridiculous.”

The giggle that graced your ears was louder without barriers to cover his pretty little smile, and you beamed back at him, chest tight and warm.

“Isn’t it dangerous for you to be out and about like that?” you questioned.

He shook his head. “It’s better to hide in plain sight, actually. The Guardians rely so much on facial recognition, anyway, that as long as I stay covered up, I’m not at much risk. The delivery job gives me a good excuse to do just that.”

You nodded thoughtfully, gaze turning back to the desert. “That makes sense, I guess. Are the rest of them doing the same thing?”

“More or less.”

“So… your friend from the other night, is he one of your vigilante buddies?”

He was silent for a long moment, and when you glanced back at him, his smile had been replaced with a pensive look. “The less I tell you, the better.” Your heart sank ever so slightly, but you nodded, hoping you hadn’t overstepped too far. “Just… For your own safety, you know?”

“Yeah… That makes sense. Sorry.”

He turned to you again, tilting his head like a curious puppy, and you bit back a giggle. “Don’t be. I’m sorry for being so mysterious.”

“Don’t be,” you echoed, nudging him with your elbow. “It’s your life on the line, and I rather prefer you right where you are.”

If you could frame a moment, you would choose this one, when Yeosang blushed a shade of pink that was barely noticeable in the dim light, smiling shyly as his eyes turned to the ground. “I’m glad,” he murmured, voice only audible thanks to the complete silence around you, “because I prefer being here, too.”

It was your turn to blush as you reached for his backpack, pulling a bottle of soju from it and cracking it open, tilting the opening toward Yeosang. Cocking his head again, he followed suit, clinking the necks of your bottles together.

“To being here, then,” you offered, heart fluttering at the return of his sweet smile.

“To being here.”

With the tension broken, the silence between you two became comfortable, and you unfurled your legs from your chest, shifting to lean against Yeosang. After breaking into the snacks and a few swigs of soju, he finally broke the silence again. “You never answered my question, you know.”

You thought for a moment, and he found himself holding back a giggle at the sight of the near-pout on your face. When the realization seemed to hit, you perked up quite comically, eyes wide. “Oh! I don’t really trust the authorities anymore. After…” you sighed, chewing on the inside of your lip. “I’ve never really liked them. They’re creepy, I know what they can do, and it’s… I don’t think like what they represent, I guess. I’ve never had the guts to do anything about it, but I’ve always kind of kept my distance. And after my old boss went missing, I didn’t really… I haven’t felt right getting them involved in anything.”

He listened intently as you rambled for a moment, eyes locked onto your face as he searched for any form of deception. He couldn’t think of a single reason why you would lie to him, of all people, about your dislike for the guardians, and he was relieved when he read you as truthful. Hwa was right, then—you could be a helpful asset.

Nodding as you finished, he turned his gaze back to the horizon and capped the bottle in his hand. “That’s kind of what I thought too, at first, and it built from there pretty quickly. I guess that’s the Captain’s fault, though.”

“Hongjoong?” You questioned, taking another stiff glug of your drink.

That was a name that put you on edge to speak, like its utterance would summon its owner. Yeosang only hummed in confirmation.

You tucked yourself further into his side, tucking your legs up again as you picked at the label of your bottle. “I kinda thought you guys were a myth before tonight.” The look he gave you was something adjacent to offense, and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from your throat. “I don’t mean it in a bad way! The stories have just always been so much larger than life. I thought you were a legend the rebels of the city cooked up to keep hope or something.”

He laughed at your explanation, securing the arm that rested behind you around your waist and squeezing you into his side. You hid your face in his chest as heat rose to your cheeks, hoping he couldn’t feel your blush through the thin material of his tank top.

“You did not,” he teased, shaking your shoulder lightly. When you didn’t raise your head and only mumbled something unintelligible in response, he sat up straighter, the hand that had been holding him up coming to lift your chin. “Oh my god, you did,” he teased when you wouldn’t meet his eyes, tongue caught between his teeth. He let out that distinct, adorable giggle, and you couldn’t stop your lips from twitching into a smile.

“Yeah, I did,” you murmured, still plenty embarrassed.

You felt him shift more than you saw it, turning your head to figure out what he was up to. Freezing for a moment as you found his face inches from your own, you glanced between his eyes and lips. His fingers shifted from under your chin to splay out over the side of your face, and you saw the ghost of a smirk tug at his lips.

“You’re blushing, Y/N,” he hummed, making you impossibly more aware of the heat in your cheeks and under his palm.

When you didn’t respond, he hesitated, a small blip of wariness in the confidence on display in front of you. Before he could pull away completely, in a feat of bravery you didn’t know you were capable of, you pulled him in until your lips crashed together.

The little noise of surprise he let out was muffled between you, but he recovered quickly, pulling you tight against him and meeting your kiss with just as much fervor. He was quick to grab at your thigh, pulling it over his hips and tugging you into his lap. Hands settling on his shoulders, you barely noticed his coat falling from your own before his hands left you to catch it. He pulled back with a low hum and a smile as he settled the garment back where it had been, this time wrapping it in his embrace with you.

“Still think I’m just a myth?” He prodded, earning a scoff and an eye roll from you.

You smirked, though, as you looked back at him, eyes flickering over his own flushed face. “I don’t know, let me check again.”

You were almost sorry to swallow the giggle that left him, but any regret quickly melted away with the feeling of his lips on yours. This one was slower, soft and exploratory, a stark contrast to the sudden heat of the last. He dragged your chest flush with his own slowly, one hand splaying out between your shoulder blades while the other slid around to your opposite hip. The movement had goosebumps prickling over your skin and, despite the warmth of his body and the coat around you, you shivered. He hummed against your lips and held you ever so slightly tighter, hands beginning to wander across the expanse of your back.

When you finally broke for air, Yeosang’s hands settled at your waist, doing little more than steadying you as you breathed each other in, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed. It was like time had frozen around you, the silence of the desert night suspending you in an alternate reality, and it felt as though even the slightest movement would send you careening back to the doom that awaited you in Night City. Neither of you spoke, neither of you stirred; for a few short moments you wondered if you had forgotten how to breathe. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Yeosang broke the silence.

“Do you want me the way I want you?”

There was a rasp to his already deep voice that hadn’t been there before, and when you finally opened your eyes, he was already staring up at you, the desire burning low in his gaze making your breath catch in your throat. Swallowing thickly, you nodded, one of your hands slipping into the hair at the base of his skull. He hummed lowly, pleased, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a smirk, and guided your hips to rest more firmly against his own. You let out your own quiet sigh at the evidence of his arousal pressing against your core, quickly sealing your lips again. He met you once again with passion, an undercurrent of desperation and urgency in the way his hands ran up your body, pushing his coat off of your shoulders. Your grip on his hair tightened as he slid them under the hem of your shirt, and you swallowed the moan he let out, matching it with a quiet whine of your own.

His hands settled on your waist again, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pulled back from you just long enough to speak, “Tell me.” You huffed, trying to guide his lips back to yours, but he held you fast. “I need to hear you say it, doll.”

The pet name had you whining, nodding eagerly as you squirmed against him. “Yes, Yeosang, I want you. Please.”

Your permission was all it took. In seconds, his lips were back on yours and his hands were exploring every inch of skin they could as his hips rolled up into your own. His explorations left your shirt bunched up, and as the cool night air met your skin to contrast pleasantly with the warmth of his hands, a shudder lit down your spine. His lips parted from your own to pepper open-mouthed kisses and teasing nips down the pillar of your throat, hands dropping back to your hips to drag you more solidly against the bulge in his jeans. You both let out breathy, broken moans and found each other’s eyes, desperation reflected back at the both of you. Your hands fell from his shoulders to slink under his tank top for a moment, fingers wandering over the toned muscles you found for a moment before running over his waistband, tugging at the buckle of his belt.

“Eager,” he murmured, leaning up to nip at your pulse. He ground up into you roughly as he shifted under you, one hand settled firmly on your hip while the other splayed over your shoulders. You barely registered his words, too preoccupied with the need coursing through you, when he spoke again. “Flip with me.”

You complied easily, letting him roll you onto your back and settle between your legs. His gaze was hungry as he ran his hands down your thighs, hesitating when he reached your waistband. A nod seemed to be all he needed to unfasten them and drag them down your legs along with your underwear, leaving you bare to his gaze and the night air, one or both of the sensations sending a shudder lighting down your spine. Feeling exposed, you moved to close your legs, but in a flash, Yeosang was settled firmly between them, fingers kneading at your thighs as he hovered at eye-level with your core.

He lapped a fat stripe over your folds and it was over for you both. The groan he let out and the hungry way he dove back in had you whimpering in seconds, legs twitching where they rested over his shoulders. His tongue worked over you a little clumsily at first, but the moment he found the things that had you gasping or whimpering, he was zeroing in on them, building you rapidly toward a peak you weren’t quite ready to fall over.

“Sangie,” you gasped, reaching down to tug at his hair and drag him up.

His eyes, closed in reverence of his position and your body, snapped open, and he sucked hard on your clit. You whined, pushing back against the top of his head. “Yeosang,” you tried again, “need you t’... Need you.”

He hummed lowly, pressing a kiss to your folds before pushing himself back up, caging you in with his body.

“You’ve got me,” he murmured, leaning down to mouth at your neck again.

You whined in protest, hand finding his hair again to pull his lips to yours, earning a low chuckle from the man above you. Reaching for his belt, you ran your nails over the front of his jeans, pulling a hiss of your own from his lips. When fumbling blindly with his belt buckle became a lost cause for both of you, he sat back on his heels, unfastening both his belt and his pants. He paused only to pull his wallet from his pocket and a condom from his wallet before he was shoving his jeans and boxers down. You let out a quiet moan at the sight of his cock, flushed and leaking, propping yourself up on an elbow and reaching for him.

The look of him as you wrapped your fingers around him was a memory you wanted to keep forever. His eyes rolled back in his head and his hips twitched up into your touch, a broken moan falling from his lips. His fingers tightened around the foil packet between them as you slowly pumped his length, his breathing quickly becoming ragged. Within moments, one hand was snapping down to grab at your wrist, halting your movements.

“You keep at that much longer, angel, and I’m not gonna last.”

You grinned, lip caught between your teeth, thumb swiping over his weeping slit. He heaved an unsteady breath, head rolling back again, before he focused back on you, glaring.

“Fuck me already, then,” you quipped, mouth ticking up in a smirk.

He huffed another laugh, shaking his head as he tore the foil open, reaching for you the moment he had a hand free to pull you in for another kiss. He lowered you to the ground as he rolled the condom over himself, gasping into your mouth at the friction, and you clung hard to his shoulders as he settled back over you. You whined as he parted from you again, tugging at his head to urge him back, but he grabbed your wrist, lacing your fingers and pinning your hand to the ground as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“You’re sure about this?”

As touched as you were by the check-in, it made your jaw twitch in irritation.

“Yes, I’m sure, fuck me, Yeosang–!” His name morphed into a long, drawn out moan as he pushed into you in one quick, fluid stroke. His own low sound melded with your own, crafting a harmony that would be echoing in your mind for weeks.

He paused for a breath, leaning down to kiss you quickly, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. You whined as he shifted within you, breath already coming in short; you were desperate for him, and if he weren’t just as desperate for you, Yeosang would have taken more time to commit the sight to memory. But with the way your walls were hugging him—and the way you had already begged him, the sight of the rapid rise and fall of your chest and the knowledge that he caused that—he couldn’t wait long or this would be over before it had even really started.

The moment you felt him begin to move, really move, within you, you let out a gasp, the hand he didn’t have pinned snapping up to tangle in his hair. You pulled him forward as he fucked into you, pressing your foreheads together, and he followed your lead eagerly, catching your lips in a sloppy kiss. It devolved quickly into little more than you moaning into each other’s mouths, hips rocking together rapidly as you chased bliss together. He was warm, strong and sure above you, and the night around you faded into nothing with the way his body covered yours, leaving both of you once again suspended in a world of your own making. Your cries and whines of pleasure echoed out into the nothingness of the desert, and for once you didn’t bother silencing yourself—out here, there were no repercussions for your pleasure.

For the second time that night, you mused over how Yeosang—a man you were taught was the enemy, trapped in a prison of his mind’s own making—felt like freedom. The build of the high you were chasing now reminded you of the rush of adrenaline that had coursed through you on the back of his bike such a short time ago, and you pulled him impossibly closer to you, needing to feel his body flush against yours in the same way. A quiet grunt left him as he dropped down to his elbow, stuttering for only a second before picking his pace back up. You settled your feet on the ground, using the leverage to tilt your hips up, and with that small shift, you were seeing stars. His cock was hitting that perfect spot inside of you, his lips were chasing yours every chance he got, and his grip on your hand was tightening; you could tell he was just as close to his peak as you were as he sighed your name against your lips.

He feels like freedom. The thought echoed in your head again, this time louder, and your heart skipped several beats in quick succession. Your chest, throat and core all tightened together, and you pressed your lips against Yeosang’s lips with purpose as your orgasm crashed over you like a wave. You swallowed the drawn-out moan that left him as your walls milked him dry, his hips twitching against your own. He pulled back while you were still lost on cloud nine, wanting to drink in the sight of you, and when his eyes caught the tearstains on your cheeks, his headlight tinging them gold, his stomach dropped. But your eyes blinked open as he wiped them away, a hazy, blissful smile on your face, and he felt himself relax just a bit.

“What’s wrong, angel?” he murmured, and your chest clenched at the concern in his voice. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?’

You shook your head vehemently. “No, Sangie, you were perfect. I just… It felt really good to let go,” you admitted, turning your gaze away from his own. “I haven’t ever been able to, with the whole…” You gestured back toward Night City, and he raised his head to stare back at it, frowning.

WIth a sigh, Yeosang nodded, slipping out of you to sit up. You whined in protest, grabbing at him, and he placated you with a kiss before shifting around to clean both of you up. Once you were dressed again, the cold quickly having become unbearable without his heat, he tugged you into his lap.

“I’m sorry you’ve never had an experience like this before,” he hummed, pressing a kiss into your hair, “but I’m glad I could provide it, and I hope you’ll let me again.”

You smiled brightly against his chest, nodding. “Any time, Sangie. I’m just sorry so many other people miss out on this.”

“Me too.”

“It felt like freedom,” you murmured after a stretch of silence. “You feel like freedom.”

Another moment you wanted you imprint on your brain; the grin he gave you before he yanked you in for another kiss.

When he returned to the rest of the Blue Birds for patrol the next night, Yeosang was keenly aware of Seonghwa’s eyes boring holes into the back of his skull. No doubt he was curious about the details of the previous night’s escapades and itching to give him an earful for wandering off with a government employee and no backup or contingency plan. Sure enough, when the gang split for their respective patrols, he was the one left with their leader. It wasn’t unusual by any stretch, but since the change to his callsign, Seonghwa had been putting Yeosang with other people more frequently to give everyone a chance to adjust.

As they set out, silence stretched between the two riders, and Yeosang couldn’t shake the discomfort it brought. After only a short fifteen minutes, he had to break it.

“You’re mad at me.”

It was purposeful, he was sure, the way he could hear Seonghwa’s drawn-out sigh over his comms. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“But I didn’t,” he countered, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“You could have gotten yourself arrested.”

Yeosang scoffed. “What’s the difference, these days?” The silence that met his ears spoke volumes. “Look, I know you aren’t happy about it, but I did it, and I survived. And I think you might be right—she might be on our side, she just doesn’t know it yet.”

Another sigh. “What does that even mean, Yeosang?”

“I figured out why she didn’t call you in.” Silence, this time, but where he had been pointedly keeping ahead of his companion, Seonghwa sat back just a bit, slowing his pace to ride with him. “She doesn’t trust them.”

“Who does?”

“Like eighty percent of the population. Can you be civil for long enough for me to explain, please?” Silence met Yeosang’s ears, but it was miles better than snark. “She’s worked on the things—she knows their wiring and their programming back to front. She could be a very valuable asset to us.”

“So you’ve said—I fail to see how this is more than grunt work.”

“She just got promoted to the position our guy was in before.”

Seonghwa’s helmet whipped to face him for a split second. “Okay, now that is something. Did you convince her to help us, then?”

Yeosang chewed on his lip. “Not yet, but I think I can.”

The deep breath that echoed through his earpiece set his nerves on edge. “You’d better work fast. She’s good at her job—the things our guy was blocking from release are almost ready to be delivered to the masses, according to my intel. We need her position back as soon as possible, and there are already plans in motion.”

There it was. His stomach dropped and bile rose in his throat. “You’ve already called a hit on her.”

“In my defense, I didn’t know it was this girl you’re head over heels for.”

“Says you,” he spat, uncharacteristically nasty, eyeing the way his companion’s shoulders rose. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway.”

Silence once again, heavy and tangible, hung in the road between the two men.

“If we only resort to death and violence, we’re no better than they are.”

Seonghwa’s scoff echoed as he revved his engine, pulling ahead once again. This time, it didn’t seem like he would be falling back. “I can give you a week. Either convince her or get over her. It’s your choice.”

Yeosang scowled, watching with a glare that could kill as his friend faded into the horizon. He didn’t need a whole week.

Two days later, when you were once again working late and in desperate need of a meal, Blue Bird Delivery was out of service once again. Your heart sank and bile rose in your throat at the implication, and you promptly locked your phone, suddenly too sick to eat. You drowned yourself in your work for the next hour or so, blissfully uninterrupted. It wasn’t until your phone pinged in your pocket, signaling the building’s front buzzer, that you were pulled back into reality. Blinking the measurements and notes from your vision, you frowned, clicking the front camera onto your computer and opening the intercom. “Yes?”

“Blue Bird Delivery with an order for Y/N,” came the quick reply, Yeosang’s voice crackling through the speaker. You rubbed your temples and sighed heavily, feeling like the weight of the world had been taken off of your shoulders as you relaxed.

“I’ll be down in a minute.” You bit the inside of your lip, holding back your grin as you made your way downstairs and through the front door as fast as possible.

He seemed even more on edge than usual tonight, shoulders tensed up nearly to his ears, you noted when he came into view. This time, it was you who used his greeting to cover your question.

“Are you alright?”

He hummed quietly, barely loud enough for you to hear, and turned on his heel, leaving you stunned and confused, a million questions running through your mind. Did he regret taking you out? Did he regret the sex? If he wasn’t here to talk, why was Yeosang bringing you food that you hadn’t been able to order in the first place? He had seemed happy for the rest of the night, holding you close, watching from the street as you had made your way into your apartment building and waved to him from the window, pouting just slightly before you’d arrived that he couldn’t kiss you good night. In a slight daze, you made your way back to your office, locking the door behind you before settling in to eat. No matter how bitter the food would taste now, you needed to eat, but you certainly didn’t want anyone disturbing you.

Pulling the bag open, your eyes immediately zeroed in on an unfamiliar shock of blue tucked down the side of it. You squinted for a brief second in consideration of it, quickly thinking better of pulling it from the bag. Removing the takeout containers resulted in the paper falling down into the bottom of the bag, and as you set it below your desk as you had made a habit of, readying it for the remnants of your dinner, you glimpsed the message scrawled on it.

“1 hr. -H”

You swallowed thickly, anxiety coiling in your gut. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

He was waiting in the same place he had been before, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. You hesitated as you approached him, and his heart sank. He wanted so badly to touch you, to kiss you, to pull you to him, but he couldn’t risk that emotional breakdown happening in the center of Night City if this went south. Still, he offered you a half-hearted version of his little finger wave.

“What’s with the passing notes?” You questioned, attempting to laugh off the awkwardness.

“I need you to make a decision.” If you weren’t nervous before, you certainly were now, heart pounding against your ribcage as you bit back a retort about your relationship being too new for ultimatums. “I can either be here as an opportunity or a warning.”

“Should we go somewhere—” you started, only for him to cut you off with a raised hand.

“We’re safe enough here, and I don’t want to waste gas. This is a blind spot for surveillance.” You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort. This didn’t feel good. “The rebellion needs someone in your position. Your previous boss was—”

“I know,” you cut in. “I found the forged documents ages ago, before I even took over.”

He went silent, head tilting to the side. You wished you could see the puppy-like look under his disguise.

“He wasn’t sneaky. He didn’t destroy any of the evidence—I found it all the morning I got promoted. The drawings, the inspection sheets, all of it. Are you here to ask me to take over for him?”

Yeosang hesitated. “Well, I was going to, yes. The issue is, you’re a little too good at your job, and if you keep being good at it, I and my people will start losing our footing. And…” He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the way you were staring at him with narrowed eyes. “There might already be a hit out on you from some of the higher-ups. So it’s kind of a ‘help us or die’ situation.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. “There’s no other alternative?”

“Not unless you wanted to end up running and hiding for the rest of your life like we do.”

Your decision, and therefore your reply, was instantaneous. “How do I do that?”

If you could see his face, you probably would have laughed at the stunned look Yeosang was giving you. “What?”

“I don’t want this life anymore. I’ve spent my entire life making absolutely sure I fit the mold, and it’s been absolutely terrifying every step of the way. I’ve lost coworkers, friends, even family members for bullshit or unknown reasons and I—” Your voice broke and you paused, regaining your composure. “I felt free with you the other night. I want to feel that again, as often as I can.”

He was quiet for long enough that dread settled back in your stomach. When he finally broke the silence, you could hear the mask fall away from his voice. “Let’s go for a ride, then. We’ll figure this out together.”

You grinned, waiting impatiently for him to settle over his bike before climbing on behind him, wrapping tightly around him, this time in excitement rather than fear. Like the first night, you felt him laugh. “Hold on tight, doll, you’re in for a bit of a bumpy ride.”

Despite knowing he was talking about more than poorly paved roads this time, your heart soared. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Hermes.”

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sixshotsinatumbllr · 16 days

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I give you: Bunnings Warehouse!Crowley

So, following on from some posts about Aussifying Good Omens with @mrghostrat and a few others, I've started a multi-chap fic featuring Crowley as a Garden Specialist from Bunnings, and Aziraphale as a Lions Club volunteer at the Community Barbecue.

(For those of you not in Australia, Bunnings is a chain of large hardware warehouses. There's a million of them all over the country. Each weekend, a community group runs a fundraising barbecue at the front of each store).

The fic is completely drafted, I am working on editing at the moment, and hope to have the start of it up in the next week or so. No spoilers, but it features misinterpreted booty texts, goon of fortune, misuse of the intercom system, and Beelzebub as store manager (who has become my favourite character).

In the meantime, I've been working on some art for the fic.

Let me know if you want a tag when I post it.

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #gomens #good omens au #good omens fanfic #good omens fanart #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #crowley #bunnings #Bunnings warehouse where au's are just the beginning

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hellishere7980 · 11 months

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IMW Chapter 9

Life’s a roller-coster Marinette likes to ride

Next Week

“Let’s go get Nooroo and Duusu back.” Marinette almost didn’t recognise her voice, but as she spoke, she knew where that dark vengeful source came from as it bubbled up within her.

Turning back to the kwamis, she met their eyes as she silently summoned Tikki’s transformation and felt her power wash over her as they merged, her split doing the same with Plagg.

It felt different.

Momentarily, Ladybug’s mind faltered as she settled into her transformation. It was different, the way Tikki’s power spread through her, the Kwami’s power felt more protective as it joined with her, covering her in the suit as they merged.

Ladybug smirked back, inclining her head slightly before summoning a portal directly over Agreste Manor and jumped into it. Falling twenty meters, feeling Lady Noire not a second behind her, Ladybug closed the portal as they landed on the roof of the Manor holding Shadow Moth.

“Shadow Moth is mine.” Ladybug said coldly, turning to look at Lady Noire and she watched as she nodded in understanding.

“I’ll take Mayura.” Lady Noire’s tone was sinister.

Scanning the building below them she pulled up a hologram of it and began to study it. There was a crypt below the building, holding a number of generators and plants thriving in their own small echo system underground, including a tree where a pod rested at its base.

There were only two people within the house; a figure on the first floor sitting at a desk within the front entrance and one directly below their feet. The latter was pacing around what appeared to be an observatory. Glancing at Lady Noire, she smirked at her as she leaped off the dome, flipping as she did before disappearing into the shadow cast by the Manor.

From the shadows behind Nathalie Sancoeur Lady Noire emerged, the darkness clinging to her released her slowly as though they birthed her and he approached her from behind. Ladybug watched the woman stiffen, lean closer to her computer and pale as her eyes widened.

Nathalie reached for the intercom unit, no doubt about to alert Shadow Moth of the video but was intercepted. Lady Noire grabbed the woman’s hand before she could, snapping the bones of her wrist like a twig and covering her mouth to silence her scream of pain.

Turning off the camera footage and going back to the scan, Ladybug slipped in her own com unit and listened as Lady Noire began cursing Nathalie according to Court Law on misuse of the Miraculous and crimes committed while wielding one, muffling her screams so she didn’t alert Shadow Moth.

Checking to see if Shadow Moth had been tipped off or heard anything, Ladybug watched as the terrorist threw his staff, unaware that his reign of terror was drawing to an end.

Studying the scan of the dome below her, Ladybug realised there was a retractable metal door over the window that was designed to look like the roof when closed. It was designed to look like a butterfly.

Waiting for the moment Shadow Moth turned his back on the window, Ladybug moved, slipping down the dome and into the window. Landing silently on the ground, she cast a quick illusion to make herself invisible and blended seamlessly into the shadows as the man who had terrorised Paris for years threw a temper tantrum not ten metres in front of her.

He was tall, imposing and had both Nooroo’s and Duusu’s magic, ancient and powerful even when corrupted, rolling off him in waves as he hissed with unrestrained fury about some akuma attack. Shadow Moth appeared to finish his rant by throwing his staff. The noise was grating, Ladybug didn’t flinch, watching the man before her as his eyes, clouded with fury stared unseeingly at nothing, face twisted in a snarl, visible even with the ugly cowl before his head snapped to look at the window.

Shadow Moth growled out the detransformation phrase for both Nooroo and Duusu and Ladybug watched as he was covered in a blinding flash of blue and purple light before it faded, leaving Gabriel Agreste in his place.

Ladybug let out an inaudible breath.

This close, and now detransformed, Ladybug could feel the bonds with Nooroo and Duusu clearly and the amount of pain, fear and sadness she felt from them hurt her as they hovered closely together, cowering under the rage rolling off the man oppressing them.

Gently Ladybug dropped the illusion as she stepped out of the shadows and into the light streaming in from the large window.

The Kwami’s eyes flickered to her briefly before returning to Gabriel, not giving away her position or arrival even as she felt their awe, happiness and crippling relief.

The extent of their emotions only fuelled Ladybug’s anger as she approached the man silently, hearing Lady Noire finish cursing Nathelie. Lady Noire began to sweep the house for anything on the Miraculous, not wanting to alert Gabriel as she got closer and closer to him.

Grabbing the arm that was waving close to the Kwami, Ladybug snapped the bones under her hand and he spun to look at her, his scowl twisting to pain before his eyes landed on her.

It was satisfying, watching all of the blood drain from his face in a single moment. In the pale blue light that came through the window he looked ghoulish as he stared at her, wide eyed and frozen in fear as the dark promise of death rolled off her in waves.

“boo!”

Moving lightning fast, Ladybug reached with her free right hand and ripped both Miraculous’ off his chest, vanishing them to the Miracle Box the moment they were in her grasp, Nooroo and Duusu flying to hover closely behind her immediately.

“No!” Gabriel’s cry matched his expression as his face twisted with rage and manic desperation.

Swinging wildly despite the awkward angle, and how his arm was still in her hold, Gabriel tried to punch her. Catching it in her right hand, the crunching sound of his knuckles being crushed was drowned out by an agonised cry as his eyes filled with pain and fear.

Dropping his right arm, Ladybug twisted, putting all of her strength into her back, shoulders and arm as she threw Gabriel Agreste across the observatory.

The metal dome creaked loudly as his body collided with the wall before falling to a heap on the floor, struggling weakly as he tried to suck in air from having it knocked out of him.

Gabriel managed to sit up awkwardly; the fingers and knuckles of his left hand were crushed, and she had broken his right arm. His breaths came with difficulty as he raised his ruined hand in such a way she was unsure whether he was cowering away from her or reaching towards her for mercy. The man’s grey eyes were wide and his pupils were blown with terror and frantic desperation, fear saturating his scent as he watched her stalk towards him with the grace and power a predator stalks their prey with.

“Please, mercy. Please-” Gabriel gasped through short breaths as he tried to fill his lungs, “-My wife. I miss my wife.”

“The families of your suicide victims miss their loved ones.” Ladybug answered coldly.

“The Miraculous, it killed her.” Gabriel tried again, but it fell flat as his tone sounded accusatory.

Unprompted, Duusu and Nooroo told her, sending her memories from years ago of a woman with hair that shone like wheat under the sun and eyes the colour of grass. Of her selfish desire and dismissal of warnings given by both Kwami in favour of her desire to ‘be a hero’. How she did nothing but play with her powers behind closed doors of a Manor that became the Kwami’s prison long before her death.

“She was told. You both were.” Ladybug said, eyes flashing dangerously as she dared him to deny it.

“I’ll give you anything you want; I just want my wife back. I love her, please.”

“Anything I want?” Ladybug asked, stopping just out of reach, staring down at him and tilting her head.

“Anything, anything in the world. Money, fame, power.” Gabriel rambled, hope shining in his eyes as false promises fell from his lips; his mind whirling with ways he could twist this into his advantage.

“I want you to pay for what you’ve done.” She whispered.

Despite how quiet her words were, they carried with power and Gabriel’s face fell, terror overcoming his features as she let her aura, all that she felt towards Gabriel Agreste flood out of her along with her magic.

The smell of urine saturated the air as his bladder loosened but not a sound left his lips. Smirking, she watched how he shook violently at her feet, curling in on himself and away from her in horror.

Ladybug hadn’t even started yet.

“Gabriel Agreste, as Grand Guardian of the Mother Miracle Box, I judge you guilty of crimes against the Miraculous and the Kwami. I judge you guilty of using two Miraculous to terrorise, kill and destroy people and property without remorse. I judge you guilty of abusing the Kwami of Transmission and the Kwami of Emotion and I hereby deem you unfit to wield a Miraculous, now and forever more. You will forget all secrets and knowledge of the Miraculous, and I hereby curse you for your crimes and your misuse of the Miraculous.”

As she spoke, Ladybug watched as Gabriel screamed in agony, writhing around on the floor as the curse began to set in. Nooroo and Duusu watched from where they hovered behind her and she felt their glee as they watched the man who had abused and misused their Miraculous finally getting what he deserves.

Ladybug could end the curse there. She had completed what she had to, but it wasn’t enough.

Gabriel Agreste had caused too much pain, physical, emotional and mental, to be allowed to live. He had tortured the people of Paris over and over again without remorse all because he wanted his wife back. He didn’t deserve to live for all he had made akumas do, he didn’t deserve to live for the continuous cycle of dying and being brought back to life he made the people of Paris suffer through and he didn’t deserve to live when his suicide victims were not.

Gabriel Agreste didn’t deserve to live, but Ladybug wanted him to know the extent of pain he had caused millions of people. He was going to feel it for the rest of his life, and it was going to follow him in death.

“You will forever feel the pain you have caused the people of Paris no matter if it’s mental, emotional or physical. You will experience every moment of their torture and suffering at your hand for the rest of your existence, in both life and death you never escape what you have done to others. So I have said, so mote be it.”

As the last of the cold words layered with magic left her lips, Gabriel’s back arched, forming a perfect curve and his lips opened in a silent scream, eyes blown so far open they looked ready to pop out of his head before he went slack as he fell unconscious.

#maribat #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #jason todd #hellishere7980 #dick grayson #marinette dupen chang #miraculous fanworks #miraculous lb #bio!dad bruce wayne

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beardedmrbean · 1 year

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Australia has decided to examine and remove Chinese-made surveillance technology used in government buildings.

Defense Minister Richard Marles on Thursday said the Chinese-made cameras could pose a security risk for the country.

Two companies, Hikvision and Dahua, have provided at least 913 cameras, intercoms, electronic entry systems and video recorders in over 250 Australian government buildings.

Both companies are partly owned by the Chinese government.

"We would have no way of knowing if the sensitive information, images and audio collected by these devices are secretly being sent back to China against the interests of Australian citizens,'' said shadow Minister for Cyber Security James Paterson, who requested the audit.

The checks came after Britain in November announced that it would stop installing Chinese-linked surveillance cameras in sensitive buildings.

Some US states have also banned vendors and products from several Chinese technology companies.

Hikvision rejects claims of security threat

An audit found that equipment from at least one of the two companies was present in almost every government department, except the Agriculture Department and Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet.

Paterson urged the government to "urgently" come up with a plan.

Defense Minister Marles said that issue was significant but added "I don't think we should overstate it."

Hikvision said that to represent the company as a national security threat is "categorically false," as it cannot sell cloud storage, access the video data or manage databases of end users in Australia.

"Our cameras are compliant with all applicable Australian laws and regulations and are subject to strict security requirements," said a spokesperson of the company.

Dahua Technology has not yet responded.

China urges "fair" treatment

Beijing on Thursday accused Canberra of "misusing national might to discriminate against and suppress Chinese enterprises."

"We hope Australia will provide a fair, just and nondiscriminatory environment for the normal operations of Chinese enterprises," said China's Foreign Ministry spokesperson Mao Ning.

According to Paterson, both companies are subject to China's national intelligence law which requires them to cooperate with Chinese intelligence.

In similar cases, China's general response to such situations has been to defend their high-tech companies and present them as good corporate citizens who play no part in intelligence gathering.

#nunyas news #we are ideological foes china #and you are far from trustworthy at the best of times #we're not any different so let us spy on ourselves for a bit

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jmcdra · 3 months

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Robot Masters Decommissioning Day

It was finally the date I had long dreaded. I tried to avoid the timer in my chronometer sensor but the countdown was always running in the back of my CPU. After the first incident with Robot Masters being stolen and misused, an expiration date was programmed into all of us of this series. Given that I was not considered dangerous, I was allowed a much longer expiration date than most in my series. Who would have thought too that Dr. Wily's Double Gear system as well as his argument for robot rights would have been the good fortune for my long decommissioning date despite being the cause of why I even have that date set in my programming in the first place. I guess good things can sometimes come from something rotten like cheese and wine after all. I may be the last of the Robot Masters to be decommissioned. I heard on the news that what will be replacing the Robot Masters is a new type of drone called Mechanaloids. Despite all the groundbreaking research Dr. Light is going to be forgotten. His legacy of human like robots is going to be betamaxed by mechanical dolls with no personality, no thought of any kind, just obey orders of humans with an simple shutdown procedure. While I served my purpose and did much more than my intended purpose I have no regrets but one. I won't be around to see what new creation Dr. Light will come up with. I heard that he was creating something new but he's been so secretive lately. He used to share with those close to him all his new projects but not this one. Maybe he's afraid of one our memory bank reviews would compromise him and put him and his work in danger. As much as I don't want to head to the decommissioning office, my body is moving on its own because of that date set in me. Much like the Laws of Robotics, this process is hard coded in me and part of my BIOS. I want to run. I want to scream. I want to avoid my fate but my body keeps moving toward its demise. I guess I really am just like a doll as much as I hate thinking about it. The doors open automatically since they can read the sensor in my chronometer letting the machines know what today is. It's like a perverted Christmas instead of excitement and joy, the only thing I want to emote is fear. I step into the sterile room and onto the decommissioning platform. There's a large window for owners to watch the process. There were humans already there and I could see them crying. There was Dr. Light, Dr. Cossack and his daughter. Kalinka has gotten so much older and grown into a beautiful woman. I hate seeing her cry. There's one other person too? No it can't be, Dr. Wily! He of all people came too and he's crying too. He's disguised but there's no mistaking that it's him. I kind of wish he would break me free but given his current emotional state, I don't see him doing anything. I can't stand seeing all the humans in my life so upset. I want to fix it. I want to make everything better. I want to get them comfortable and to cheer them up but this expiration date function is overriding my programming. I wish I could just shut off my visual sensors so I don't have to witness this but all the functions I normally have control over are superseded by this end of function process. I'll be joining the fate of my brothers and cousins soon. The intercom in the room activates and a I hear a voice say,

"DLR-002, Roll. the mandated expiration date has been reached and all current legal activation extensions have used. You are to be deactivated and initialized in 3, 2, 1..."

And all of Roll's processes were killed and sensors shutdown, never to be reactivated again.

#tw death #megaman #megaman roll #roll light #classic megaman #roll #mega man #dr light #dr wily

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sysdo · 5 months

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Technological Advancements in Military Audio Systems: Amplified Speakers at the Forefront

In the ever-evolving landscape of military technology, audio systems play a crucial role in communication, intelligence gathering, and, more recently, as a tool for strategic advantage. Amplified speakers have emerged as a forefront technology, offering enhanced capabilities that redefine the way military forces operate in the field. This blog explores the cutting-edge developments in military audio systems, with a focus on the amplified speakers that are leading the charge.

Evolution of Military Audio Systems: From Tradition to Innovation

The history of military audio systems traces back to traditional communication methods, where shouts and signals were the primary means of conveying messages on the battlefield. Over time, technological advancements led to the development of radios and intercom systems, laying the foundation for more sophisticated audio technologies.

The Role of Amplified Speakers in Modern Warfare

Amplified speakers have become integral components of military audio systems, offering clear and powerful sound projection in various operational scenarios. These advanced speakers are designed to operate in extreme conditions, providing reliable communication in challenging environments, including urban warfare, dense forests, and mountainous terrain.

Directional Audio: Precision in Communication

One of the key advancements in military audio systems is the implementation of directional audio technology. This innovation allows military personnel to transmit targeted messages over a specific area, minimizing the risk of unintended interception. Directional audio ensures that critical information is communicated precisely to the intended audience without revealing sensitive details to adversaries.

Stealth and Covert Operations: Silent Communication

In special operations and covert missions, maintaining stealth is paramount. Advanced amplified speakers now come equipped with technologies that enable silent communication through highly directional and focused sound projection. This capability allows military units to coordinate without alerting nearby enemies, enhancing the element of surprise.

Integration with AI and IoT: The Smart Battlefield

The integration of artificial intelligence (AI) and the Internet of Things (IoT) has revolutionized military audio systems. Amplified speakers now leverage AI algorithms to analyze and interpret ambient sounds, providing real-time intelligence on the battlefield. Additionally, IoT connectivity allows for remote control and monitoring of audio systems, enhancing the overall efficiency of military operations.

Adaptive Noise Cancellation: Enhancing Battlefield Clarity

Military environments are often noisy, with various sources of ambient sounds that can hinder communication. Amplified speakers with adaptive noise cancellation technology filter out unwanted background noise, ensuring clear and intelligible communication even in the midst of chaos. This capability is particularly valuable in high-stakes situations where split-second decisions can be the difference between success and failure.

Future Prospects and Ethical Considerations

As military audio systems continue to advance, ethical considerations come to the forefront. The potential for misuse of sound-based technologies raises concerns about the impact on civilians and the ethical implications of sonic warfare. Striking a balance between technological innovation and ethical responsibility is crucial for the responsible development and deployment of military audio systems.

Conclusion:

The rapid evolution of military audio systems, with amplified speakers at the forefront, reflects the ongoing efforts to equip armed forces with cutting-edge technologies. These innovations not only enhance communication and intelligence capabilities but also raise important ethical considerations. As technology continues to shape the future of warfare, it is essential to approach these advancements with a mindful and responsible perspective, ensuring that they are used for the greater good and in accordance with international laws and ethical standards. Source: https://headsettactical.wordpress.com/2023/12/09/technological-advancements-in-military-audio-systems-amplified-speakers-at-the-forefront/

#AmplifiedSpeakers

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goldilocksmith · 6 months

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What are the Common Lock Problems and How to Avoid Them By Goldi Locksmith

Lock problems are common and can happen to anyone at any time. Some of the common lock problems are: - Lost or broken keys: This is when you lose your keys or they break inside the lock, preventing you from opening or locking your door. This can happen due to wear and tear, misuse, or theft. - Faulty or damaged locks: This is when your locks stop working properly or get damaged due to various reasons such as corrosion, vandalism, forced entry, or poor installation. - Lockouts: This is when you lock yourself out of your property or vehicle due to forgetting your keys, leaving them inside, or losing them. This can happen due to distraction, haste, or carelessness. - Burglaries or security breaches: This is when someone breaks into your property or vehicle by bypassing or damaging your locks or security systems. This can happen due to weak or outdated locks, lack of security measures, or criminal activity. You can avoid these problems by taking some preventive measures such as: - Keeping spare keys: You should always have a spare set of keys for your property and vehicle and keep them in a safe and accessible place. You can also give a copy of your keys to a trusted friend, family member, or neighbour who can help you in case of an emergency. - Maintaining your locks: You should regularly check and maintain your locks to ensure they are in good condition and functioning properly. You can clean, lubricate, and adjust your locks as needed. You can also replace your locks if they are old, worn out, or damaged. - Securing your property: You should take steps to secure your property and deter potential intruders. You can install high-quality locks that meet the British Standard BS 3621 for doors and windows. You can also upgrade your security systems such as alarms, CCTV cameras, intercoms, etc. - Choosing trusted locksmiths: You should always choose a reputable and reliable locksmith service that can help you with any lock problem. You should look for locksmiths who are qualified, accredited, insured, and experienced. You should also look for locksmiths who offer fast response time, competitive pricing, and guarantees for their work and products. By following these tips, you can prevent or solve any lock problem and enjoy a safe and secure property. Conclusion Locksmithing in Bournemouth UK is an important service that can help you with your lock and security needs. Whether you need a new lock, a lock repair, or a lock upgrade, you can rely on a professional locksmith like Goldi Locksmith. In this article, you learned: - Why you need a locksmith in Bournemouth UK - What are the main types of locksmith services in Bournemouth UK - How to find and choose the best locksmith in Bournemouth UK - What are the benefits of hiring a locksmith in Bournemouth UK - What are the common lock problems and how to avoid them I hope you found this article helpful and informative. Read the full article

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rahulredekar · 1 year

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Terra Alegria Luxury Villas off Whitefield Bangalore

We are m1 Homes, a part of the m1 Group

Besides Bangalore being m1 Group headquarters, we also have extended our arms in the United States & Dubai in the Middle East. Conceived by a team of immensely talented professionals from Real Estate domain, we expertise in property development & wealth advisory services. Our precision in risk assessment and detailed research based investment opportunities makes us take judicious and informed decisions regarding our developmental projects. Our CSR activities too encompass a wide spectrum through m1 Foundation. Women Empowerment in the real estate space being our biggest step forward in this regards. We endeavor in all our sincerity and honesty, to empower women and grant them a sense of equality in all decisions related to Real estate investments. The farmer community is very close to our hearts. We also endeavor through our m1 Foundation, to enable granting them their rights, which otherwise could possibly be misused. These are small steps towards building a magnanimous future and we wish to contribute in every possible way.

Terra Alegria, a Gated Villa Community project spread over 7.5 Acres of Phase 1, located Off Whitefield. This project is strategically located just off the NH4 and bang on NH 207 and offers excellent connectivity to IT Parks like ITPL, BGRT, the various state highways, the airport, the Narsapura Industrial Area & the proposed six-lane Bangalore-Chennai Expressway. Terra Alegria has been approved by RERA and RERA Registration Number is PR001069

In the vicinity of m1 Terra Alegria, there are renowned Schools like DPS, VIBGYOR, Chrysalis High School, Deans Academy, Whitefield Global School and Ryan International High School. It also boasts of nearby Hospitals like Columbia Asia, Vydehi, Narayana Multispeciality, Sathya Sai General and Super specialty hospitals. It has nearby Hotels like Taj Vivanta ITPL, Sheraton, Marriot, Zuri and Alila. Also it has neighboring IT Parks and Corporate offices like ITPL,SJR Tech Park, Bearys IT Park , Brigade Tech park, Salarpuria Tech park, EPIP Zone ,HP India, SAP Labs ,GE and Mercedes Benz R&D etc.. The nearest Shopping malls like Value Forum Mall, Park Square ITPL Mall, Inorbit Mall and Phoenix market city are at a very comfortable distance. Connectivity wise Bangalore International airport is less than an hour, you can reach KR Puram Railway station in less than 20 min ,Whitefield Railway Station in less than 10 min.

Terra Alegria is affordable Villas project Off Whitefield, with the best of amenities including metalled roads, concealed drainage and electrical connections, besides common amenities like a club-house, parks, Swimming Pool,WiFi Zone, provision for clinic & Super market and open spaces. The first phase is comprises 103 Villas, most of them in the standard 30×40 and 35×40 and bigger sizes .

Architecture & Facilities

Large covered space on grassland set amidst beautiful flower plants. Huge Landscaped Gardens & Parks to add a touch of green to your every day.

Kids Play Area helps keep your children amused. 24/7 experienced and qualified well equipped security men guarding the layout.

All around compound wall with Concealed power lines. Avenue plantation , pedestrian walkways on either side & street lights.

24 hours uninterrupted water supply through over head tank. Rainwater harvesting for the entire layout and individual plots.

Black Top Road for comfortable driving.

Under ground drainage & Sewage treatment plant.

40 feet main roads and 30 feet sub roads.24 hrs power back up for common amenities.

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chrisliss0878 · 1 year

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Multi-tenant Residential Intercom Systems

We are familiar with intercom systems fitted within a single home for security purposes. A multi-tenant residential takes the requirements to a whole new level. The first obvious difference is the enormous size of the property (a larger number of units) that needs to be supervised. Thus, you need an intercom system that is built to function in this setup. Multi-tenant residential intercom systems allow people in different areas of the building to communicate with each other via a centralized setup. It consists of the intercoms installed at different entry and exit points that relay texts and calls back, security is the same way that a single-dwelling intercom system does. Depending on the model you choose, you can enjoy audio or video or audio and video surveillance. The intercom that has only featured audio allows you to communicate only through voice. On the other hand, one with video features, allows you to hear as well as see the person who comes knocking at your door. Monitors are installed in every apartment. Screen sizes range from 4.5 inches to 10 inches. Features like night vision ensure that your watchdog is on guard 24/7. You can choose from open voice tenant stations or handset types. Some have a memory to store images, with the time and date tagged for later viewing. This can be of great help should there be a need for evidence in the event of a crime or mishap. High-end systems also have a provision to alert tenants in case of an emergency and allow for safe exits. Access control is among the important features of a multi-tenant residential intercom system. It is the initial way to keep unauthorized visitors out of the way. Card access is quite common in this regard. The key fob is another option. A few intercom systems come with a card system where people are required to punch in or enter the passcode to gain access. If a person loses the access card, there is a provision to deter misuse. Modern multi-family residential intercom systems wireless are also equipped to handle emergencies. It consists of SOS calls directly to security guards, and there are features such as buttons to unlock a door or elevator control once the visitors are identified. Installing a multi-tenant residential intercom system shouldn’t be a hassle if you have the right heads and hands to guide you. Most of the time, even for older buildings, it is possible to install it along the existing phone lines, making it very cost-effective. There is quite an extensive range of intercom systems on the market equipped to control between 500 and 1000 tenants and man around 20 entrances. Looking for ways to security should be a priority for every building owner. It not only raises your property value but also shows your tenants that you truly care. Thinking of installing a multi-tenant residential intercom system to add security and functionality to your building? Intercom Repair London is a licensed and insured service provider that offers intercom installation in London at a compatible price. We can help you install the best residential intercom system in London.

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aricazorel · 3 years

Text

"Being alone with you is the best part of my day." prompt

pairing: Kaidan Alenko x Kori Reese (OC); set during ME3; word count: 1311

Major Kaidan Alenko made his way from the QEC through the war room. He paused at the doors to the security checkpoint. Sighing and rolling his shoulders. he attempted to push away the annoyance, frustration, and very real anger that he felt. All day it seemed that he had been dealing with nonsensical issues while not receiving any information he had requested.

He had expected an update from several groups of his students that morning. Waking up to a lack of information about their safety, whereabouts, or activities was disconcerting to say the least. He'd given them names and contacts both he and Reese had after he rejoined the SR-2. Unfortunately, none of them had heard a thing from his kids either. It was a hell of a way to start the day.

Later in the morning he had received an email regarding his inquiries about his mom. Since learning that she'd made it to the orchard, he'd received no other updates. Even using his Specter status he'd only gotten messages stating ‘status unknown.’ His father was still listed as MIA. Nothing had changed. Nothing new to be learned. Nothing to give Kaidan hope.

Kaidan shook off the thought as he finally allowed the doors to slide open. He passed through the checkpoint giving each guard a polite smile and a nod. He headed straight to the elevator hoping no one would stop him along the way. Surprisingly, he was successful. As the elevator doors shut behind him Alenko leaned against the back of the lift, resting his head against the cool metal wall. He closed his eyes attempting to clear his mind.

Suddenly the elevator came to a halt before reaching its intended destination of the crew deck. Kaidan frowned about to ask EDI if there were a problem when Joker’s voice came over his omni-tool instead of the intercom.

“Hey, Major? You got a minute?”

“Why is the elevator stopped?” Kaidan demanded, in no mood for any of Joker’s nonsense.

“'Cause I need to ask you something.”

“Joker, I've had a long day …and I'm off duty now …”

“Then you have a minute.”

Kaidan exhaled sharply. “Only because you had EDI stop the elevator.”

“It will just take a minute.”

The Major exhaled sharply. Why was he the lucky enough to be Joker’s advice dispenser? “I've already given you enough advice for the rest of our mission. Can you ask Cortez or Vega or Traynor or Shepherd? Literally anyone but me?”

“Those guys aren't in a relationship and even though Shepard is, EDI has already asked him about this.”

Alenko sighed. There was no fighting it. Maybe if he answered one more question he could have peace the rest of the night. “Fine.”

“You and Reese are together. You two made things work after a bunch of shit happening. You two fight and have different ways of doing things. But you're still together. How? How do you do it?”

Kaden scrubbed a hand over his face. He really was in no mood for dispensing dating wisdom. He received no news today on things important to him plus dealing with political BS from people demanding special favors because of his Specter status didn't help.

The pilot had been pinging his ‘tool all day for advice. Apparently EDI had cornered Shepard earlier in the day in the cockpit asking for advice. Now Joker was starting to seriously consider a possible relationship with this sentient AI.

Why go to him for advice though? Why when he just wanted to retire to his quarters and forget about most of the day's events?

“Joker, I'm not sure I'm the right person to ask for the exact things you just listed. Reese and I …We made things complicated when we didn't have to.”

“But you two are together now, man. That's gotta count for something. How did you do it? Overcome all that and you still want to be together?”

Alenko rested his head against the wall again. He took a breath. He thought of everything he and Kori had been through, everything they had done, everything they add said.

Staring at the grey ceiling the Major said, “Look, Joker, anything I tell you take with a grain of salt.”

“Okay. Fine. Just tell me—"

Kaidan sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “Sometimes you just connect with someone. You see something in them they might not see in themselves. Sometimes they see that in you. You can either decide to take a chance or you play it safe. You can choose to get to know them or ignore them. You can learn more about them, learn how much you have in common and what drives them crazy, or you don't. You can learn to trust them with more and more of yourself or not. You can build a foundation to a meaningful relationship or not. I've done both with Reese and in the end choosing to take that chance was the best choice of my life.”

“So …take a chance?”

“It's a gamble but it can be worth it.”

“Thanks, Kaidan.”

“You're welcome. Can I go now?” the second human Specter replied briskly.

“Oh yeah sorry,” Joker’s voiced replied over the ‘tool, sounding a little sheepish.

The elevator continued its short journey to the crew deck as the pilot added, “I really appreciate this. If you need anything –“

“Ask someone else from now on.”

“Yes, sir.”

His omni-tool clicked off as the doors opened. He ran a hand through his hair as he headed to the cabin he now shared with Reese. Surely nothing else would happen.

Right?

As soon as he entered their quarters Reese smiled but didn't look up at him. She sat in the middle of the bed working on yet another mod for omni-tools. “I just told EDI you wouldn't be receiving any more calls or messages for the rest of the night.”

Kaidan groaned as he took off his boots. “Do I even want to know what it was about?”

“Some Alliance Admiral…McTaggert I think—wanting to make sure you understood the seriousness of his request,” the Lieutenant Commander said in a derisive tone. “I'm gonna guess it in fact isn't serious or important.”

Alenko flopped down on the bed beside her, his legs hanging off the edge while his head laid even with her hips. “McTaggert thinks I should use my Specter status to order the Normandy to retrieve some vital resources for the Alliance from his previous post. I checked with Liara. She says the vital resources are rare and very illegal cases of brandy.”

Reese glanced down at him within amused grin. He went on as he used air quotes for the last part of his sentence. “He wants me to retrieve alcohol because it will increase morale.”

The L3 snorted as she feathered her fingers through his hair. “I'm sure if you ask Liara could subtly have the Admiral investigated for misuse of resources or his position. His service record isn't that great. Mostly desk jobs with no real significance.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You already looked up his record?”

“Of course! What kind of paranoid girlfriend would I be if I didn't?”

Kaidan laughed. “Your paranoia has saved us a bunch of times. Plus you are just naturally thorough. And resourceful. And beautiful. And smart. And compassionate. And –“

“Okay, tech boy. Flattery will get you everywhere,” Reese chuckled. “So what do you want?”

“You. Alone. With me.” He replied simply as he rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You have me, Kaid,” she said as she leaned down to kiss his temple.

The second human Specter snuggled his face into her side as he murmured, “Being alone with you is the best part of my day.”

“Mine too, tech boy. Mine too.”

#trilogyappreciationweek #mass effect #kaidan alenko #kori reese #kaidan alenko x fem oc

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

Want to join the fam? 13th Doctor x child reader

*Author’s note*

Hey gang well here we are again with yet another Doctor who request. To the anon who requested this I THANK YOU FOR YOUR INCREDIBLE PATIENCE. Now I made some slight changes to the reader’s characteristics so I hope that’s okay. Now again most of these updates that I’ll be doing will mostly be Doctor who based (from the endless amounts of DW requests I’ve had on my phone since last year, again anons I thank you for your patience and I am getting through them) but some Marvel ones will come out as well. So just sit back and enjoy these requests ;)

Warnings: Child neglect, malnourishment, human captivity, some angst and fluff.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@platawnic

___________________________________________________________

I’ve been in this prison for—what feels like forever. In fact I think it has been forever. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been the possession of a man known as The Collector due to me being the last of the Timelords. At first I didn’t know myself what I was, all I knew was that every now and then right at the point of death from malnourishment, my body grew warm and my appearance would change.

When the Collector first saw my change firsthand, he moved me from one cell to another where I had nothing but needles shoved into my arms and every now and then he not only took my blood but there was also this glowing gold light that would also go up into a canister and once it got full after a month of draining, he’d take it away and replace it with a new one.

On and on this went on and I began to think that this was to be my life for the rest of my days. I couldn’t die because all I would do was regenerate into a different person. I was beginning to think that I would never get out of this horrible place, that the Collector would continue to misuse and neglect me.

That was until…….she came into my life.

I was trying to sleep in my 4x4 cell (it is not comfortable let me just tell you that) when I heard a knock at the solid glass of my prison. There I saw the Collector standing there, his eyes full of obsession as usual. His mouth gaped in awe as he said.

“Today is the day my little one.” Oh yeah that’s right. I’m dying today. The Collector has even gone far as to make a schedule for when I’m to be expecting to regenerate. My current 12 year old body had been put through countless hours of testing, blood draining, neglect, and aura extraction. And now the time has come for me to regenerate once again.

“I can’t believe it’s been your 9th change and you’ve given me more money and immortality than I could ever hope for.” Oh yeah I forgot to mention this one little detail.

Sometimes when the Collector is in his greatest moods, when the Tourist season arrives, hell have his greatest displays out for the public for all the gawk, point and take pictures of. I was displayed when I was in the process of my 3rd change so everyone got to see me transform from a small 4 year old white child, to an 11yr. old brown skinned girl.

Now that it was time for me to regenerate once more and it was the day tourists from around the galaxy, and across space and time for them to come see his fantastic collection of mistreated, abandoned and unwanted things.

“Now then remember to make this your grandest metamorphosis yet. And also try not to burn any of the clients. Always bad for business if someone gets hurt.” I didn’t respond to him. I never respond to him, no matter what torture he does whenever he tries to make me answer, I don’t give him the satisfaction of being broken before him.

He can continue to drain me dry but he’ll never break me.

*3rd Person POV*

Meanwhile just in the outskirts of the Collector’s shop, the familiar wheeze of the TARDIS soon echoed out. The TARDIS went from a faint image to a full solid picture.

“And here we are gang. As promised, welcome to the Bermuda Tri—” soon stepping out of the TARDIS was the Doctor herself, and her little fam, Yaz, Ryan and Graham.

“Uhh Doc, this isn’t what I pictured the Bermuda Triangle to look like.” Graham said.

“What? Ahhh no you stubborn ol girl you do this again!? Every. Time I want to go somewhere I tell you to go, you do a 180!” She snapped as she slapped the side of the TARDIS.

“So……where exactly are we?” asked Ryan as he stepped out along with Yaz.

“It kinda looks like a combination of London and Los Angeles.” Yaz said.

“Honestly I’m not quite so sure myself of where we are. Stay close everybody. Never know what could be lurking around here.” The Doctor said to them.

“Should we—have a look around?” asked Graham skeptically.

“I mean it’s the only way, right Doctor?” Ryan said to the Doctor.

“Well normally I would say no when I don’t know of a certain location but the TARDIS always has a habit of sending me where I’m needed. Alright listen up gang,” she turned to her three human companions and explained to them in a firm tone. “We’re gonna have a little look around. But again I have no idea who or what lives here. So there is to be no going off on your own, no touching anything, don’t even speak to anyone. You are to stay where I can keep an eye on you. Is that understood?”

“Yes Doctor.” The three of them answered. The Doctor nodded and soon the three of them walked on ahead.

They walk up a hill till they finally arrive at the borders of the city. All around so many different species of creatures and people across space and time were gathered around just going about their day.

“It—looks like an ordinary in London. People going about their day, nothing really out of the ordinary.” Graham said.

“I wouldn’t go that far yet Graham. Let’s go, blend in well with the crowd. There’s—something doesn’t feel right for some reason.” The Doctor said. As they walked they soon heard a few voices say.

“Have you heard about the Collector’s new showcase?” a young woman with albino skin and purple eyes said.

“I go there every year. I’m told he’s got her on display once again.” Said a mechanical green woman.

“Wait you don’t mean…..”

“Yes. It could be another transformation.”

“Then let’s go.” The two women raced on. Yaz leaned towards the Doctor and whispered.

“Did you catch any of that?”

“I don’t know who exactly they’re talking about, but that’s our best clue as to why the TARDIS might’ve brought us here. Cause out here in the streets there’s clearly no danger. No fights, no war, not even an invasion.”

“Couldn’t hurt to take a look inside and follow those girls.” Ryan said. So they secretly followed the two women.

Soon the two women turned into a crowd as hundreds upon hundreds of people walked right towards a tower-like building. As our gang of time travelers went inside, they found that this tower was almost like a warehouse. It’s darkened hallways lit only by the hollowed lanterns above. As they continued walking, they noticed that it soon began to remind them of some kind of art show.

“Hang on, I know that thing.” The Doctor said as she suddenly stopped.

“Know what?” asked Graham.

“Over there.” She pointed to a very large cube like cell with an intricate design on each side. It was a circle with what looked like a maze-like pattern decorated along the inside of it.

“What is it?” asked Ryan.

“My old prison in a past life.” The Doctor answered grimly. Yaz and Ryan walked up to it and they saw on the plaque the words.

PANDORICA BOX.

Ryan and Yaz looked at each other and Ryan shrugged.

“And that, I recognize that weapon over there.” She and Graham walked to it and Graham asked her.

“Is—is that what I think it is Doc?”

“Yes Graham. A cyberman head.”

“So…..what is this like some sort of art gallery of everything you know?”

“Possibly. But none of this is Timelord technology. However this place does seem to have almost everything I’ve encountered in my many lives.”

‘Ladies and gentlemen. Creatures and species far and in between. Please make your way to the back room for a show like no other. For the first time in decades, the changeling child has returned.’ The voice of a women came on the intercoms from above.

“The changeling child?” Ryan repeated confused.

“So changelings actually exist?” asked Yaz.

“After all we’ve seen, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Graham shrugged.

“I’m not so sure about that guys. C’mon. Stay close and keep to the back.” Soon everyone started heading towards the back room where a giant arena-like stadium stood. At the very center, the Doctor and her friends saw a young girl laying there at the center of the stadium in a clear box like cage.

“Oh my god.” Yaz gasped as she covered her mouth in horror.

“That poor girl is she—she’s completely malnourished. She’s practically skin and bones.” Graham said.

“Doctor. Who would do something like this?” Ryan sneered softly. The Doctor looked closer and that’s when she saw the glowing hands on the young girl. That familiar orange, yellowish glow.

“Oh my……”

“What is it Doc?” Graham asked. But before she could say a word, an elderly man with spiked white hair and wearing a leather attire with a fur coat with multiple colorations came right to the cage and he said to the audience.

“Greetings my dearly beloved guests. As you have ventured into the far outreaches of space and time to see all of my beloved collections. I am proud to announce and reveal to you all for the first time in a very long time, my most prized possession. The changeling child.”

“Calling a child their possession. Boy I’d like to give that crazy git a punch across the face.” Graham hissed lowly.

“Easy Graham. Just watch.”

“Watch what exactly? Doctor what’s going on?”

“Just want to prepare you guys for what you’ll see one day with me.” Soon the young girl began to glow brighter and brighter till her whole face and hands were starting to glow like the sun.

Then with a burst of Timelord energy, a powerful fiery blast exploded from her and the crowd was just in awe of what they were witnessing. The Doctor shook her head and muttered.

“She can’t be contained when a regeneration happens. It can cause significant damage to the next body.”

“What’s happening Doctor? Is she going to explode?” asked Ryan worriedly.

“No Ryan, just keep watching.” A cry was soon heard and the next thing everyone saw was that the young 12 year old white girl now transformed herself into a young 7 year old brown skinned child. Her once blonde hair was now pure black and cut into pixie style haircut.

“Wait did she just—” Yaz started off.

“Fam. I’d like to introduce you all to a Timelord child.” The Doctor said in a stoic manner.

“Wait but—I thought you and the Master were the last of your people?” Ryan said.

“So did I. But that there was a regeneration. Known only to the Timelords themselves. No other creature or species in the Universe can do a transformation like that.”

“And it seems that freak’s using her as a main attraction for his Collection around the world.” Graham hissed angrily.

“Well what do we do? I mean we can’t just leave her here. Maybe this is what the TARDIS wants us to do.” Yaz said.

“But how can we rescue her? I mean we don’t even know the layout of this place.” Ryan said.

“Leave that to me. For now I want you guys to play out the roles of interested travelers. If any security goes snooping around, just play them off in any way you can. Trust me gang, right now that little girl down there could use someone whose been through this. And believe me I’ve been through it many, many, many times.”

“Alright Doc. But just know should you need us, we’re just a shout away.” Graham said. She nodded to them and as the crowd began to leave the stadium, Ryan, Yaz and Graham joined the crowd while the Doctor stayed behind in the shadows and watched as some of the Collector’s helpers moved the child out of her display case and moved her back down to her proper cell.

*My POV*

After being put back in my cell I finally got the chance to look at my new form. My once white skin was now brown and my hands were smaller. I must’ve de-aged again. I felt around my face and it was now more rounder than it was previously. My hair was also shorter, way shorter actually. So short that I couldn’t even see what color it was. But I had fingers, lots of fingers, 2 legs, two feet, eyes, nose, mouth, ears. New body, new rules.

“Magnificent. This is almost like your 4th form but—lighter skin. And your hair, don’t really like it that short but it is what it is.” The Collector said as he pressed his hands up against my glass cage. “After I count the profits for today, we’ll proceed with the Timelord aura drain.” With a flick of his animal skin cape, he turned and left the room.

I lowered my head exhaustedly and let out a deep breath and soon saw the familiar glowing fog coming out of my mouth. Then out of nowhere, my cage began to unlock itself but the Collector was nowhere in sight. As the glass walls lowered back down, I sat up in shock and looked around fearfully only to see a woman with short blonde hair wearing a greyish-blue trench coat.

She also wore a dark blue shirt with multiple colored stripes around the front, the color yellow was the main color that really struck out cause it was just piled up on both top and bottom of the other colors. She also wore what looked like suspenders and brown boots.

But what really caught my attention were her eyes. Her deep brown eyes. Unlike the Collector whose eyes were always filled with crazed obsession, this woman’s eyes were filled with kindness, curiosity, and—astonishment.

“It’s alright. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“How can I—trust you?” wow new voice. It was lighter—almost like the sound of a bell.

“I know this must seem strange to you. Having a stranger open up your prison but tell me this. If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would’ve done it by now?” she asked me. I pondered the thought and realized she was right.

The Collector’s workers who would transfer me from my cell to my display case, they always took a shot using their electro-whips on me just for the sport of it.

“Who are you?” I asked her.

“Well believe it or not. I’m just like you. A Gallifreyian Timelord.” I looked at her shocked.

She was a Timelord as well? But—the Collector said that I was the last of my kind. When he found me as a baby, he told me that I was the only sole survivor.

“You’re lying.”

“Actually I’m not. How do I know I’m not lying you might be thinking? Well I can tell you that seven months ago, I was a white haired Scotsman.”

“Prove it.” I asked her. “That you’re a Timelord. How do I know you’re not lying?” she looked around before finding a stethoscope from a nearby stand. She grabbed it and came up to me and placed the earpieces in my ears.

“Have a listen.” She placed the metal part against her chest and soon enough I heard the 4 heartbeats of the Timelord. I looked up at her and she looked right at me with those soft eyes of hers and she said, “Well, what’s your verdict?”

“But—it’s impossible. I thought I was……I thought I was the only one.”

“So did I.” she said solemnly. Her eyes now appeared to have a hint of sadness to them. “What’s your name?” she asked me.

“I—I was never given one.” I said sadly as I looked down. I heard her hum softly and that’s when she said.

“Well we can’t just call you nothing. Hmm let me think……I’m not good with coming up with names but I’ll give it a go.” She said before she began muttering to herself as she paced around me. I looked at her intrigued and she would look right at me before getting right up into my face.

It was a little awkward having this strange woman get right up in my face but it didn’t make me feel intimidated (not like how the Collector makes me feel whenever he gets up in my face).

“Ah-ha! I think I came up with the perfect name!” she exclaimed happily. I tilted my head. “Lyra!” I looked at her in disgust. “What? Oh c’mon that’s a brilliant name. You’d be named after a constellation. And Lyra is a Greek name Lyre, a Greek instrument. And a marvelous one at that.”

“I’m sorry it’s just that with……this current form I don’t know if Lyra is a good name for me.”

“Yeah I suppose so. Most beings usually pick a name that fits their look. Well like I told you I’m not really good at coming up with names. I don’t think I ever was.”

“I…..” I started off before trailing off.

“What? What is it?”

“It’s nothing I….I can’t say it.”

“Course you can. Hey you listen to me now love, you can say whatever you want. I’m not like that—monster whose treated you like his possession. So if you’ve got something to say, you can tell me.”

“I—I once did come up with a name during my 3rd transformation. But I don’t know if it’s any good.” She looked at me with encouragement telling me through her eyes that I could freely speak it out. “(Y/n).”

“(Y/n). Hmm……I like it. Yeah it suits you. Alright, (Y/n) I’m the Doctor and I’m busting you out of here.”

“Busting me out?”

“Yeah. You know setting you free, freeing you from your cage, all those other freedom metaphors and sayings. Bottom line is, is that you’re coming with me and my friends.”

“But—the Collector. He’ll know that I’ve escaped. He won’t let me leave.”

“That’s why I’ve got a plan. Now c’mon let’s at least get you out of this storage room and into some real light.” She extended her hand to me and I looked at it conflicted. “I promise (Y/n), as long as you’re with me. I won’t let him or anyone else harm you. I can help you, but you have to trust me first.”

I looked up at her warm brown eyes once more and they gave me a fluttery feeling in my stomach. Was—was this what it feels like when someone’s kind to you? Finally I lifted my hand and I placed my hand in hers.

“Brilliant. Now can you stand and walk? I know that regeneration still takes time to cook but we kinda are on the clock.”

“I think so.”

“Okay, let’s get you off this thing and then we run.” She picked me up and set me down on the floor before taking my hand again and we took off.

We came to the main door which the Collector always kept lock and only he or his workers knew the combination.

“It’s no use, we’ll never get out of this room. He has it locked 24/7.”

“Good thing I’ve always got this.” She then pulled out a long silver or iron like thing with a crystal point at the end. She pressed a button and aimed it right at the door’s control panels and a loud hum came out of it as the crystal point became a bright yellow color.

Soon enough I heard the locks being unlocked and the doors opened up.

“There that’s better.” She tossed her magic stick in the air before catching it back into her hand and putting it away into her coat. “Now come on, we’ll rendezvous with the others in the main lobby.” As we left the room I asked her.

“What was that thing?”

“What was what?”

“That thing you used to open the door?”

“Oh right! That was my sonic screwdriver. A handy device of my own invention. It can basically be used for anything. Bio readings, translation analysis, but most of all it can unlock any door. The one thing it isn’t used for is for killing. Because killing is senseless and fighting never solves anything. I hate weapons of any kind especially guns.” Her voice started to trail off into anger which made me a little scared seeing this bubbly, whacky woman now become an ice cold queen. “Sorry. I—tend to get a little dark whenever it comes to hate for violence. Now c’mon let’s keep moving.”

After going up several more levels and her using her sonic screwdriver to get the doors unlocked, we finally arrived at the main level.

“Alright, now my friends are in the lobby like I’ve said. So it’s just a straight forwards to—hang on.” She suddenly said urgently. She stopped and looked around. “Something isn’t right. There were hundreds of people here just now and now it’s—it’s completely empty.”

“The shop isn’t closed cause it’s still light out. So—where is everyone?” suddenly the alarm sounded off and every entrance, window and door, were sealed off. The red light of the alarm was the only source of light we had for awhile before it went completely dark.

“You thought I’d let you escape that easily?” then a bright light shined down just a few feet in front of us and there stood The Collector. Behind him were three people, two men and one a girl around the Doctor’s age.

All three of them were not only being held by the Collector’s guards but from their feet to their hips were trapped in the crystal prison that I was familiar with. In some of his collections, the Collector loves to showcase his ‘prizes’ in crystal form with specially designed rings that encases whatever he wants in a crystal prison.

Trapping them alive.

“We’re sorry Doc. They caught us just before we could meet up.” Said the elderly white man.

“Let them go.” the Doctor stated firmly.

“Or what? See I’ve got basically almost everything across Time and Space but pure humans—well imagine the attractions they’ll bring us.”

“We’re not your property you crazy old bastard!” the young black man spoke up. Which resulted in him being shocked by the Collector’s guards and the crystal formation went higher up his body from his hips now to his ribs. He groaned in agony after his shock treatment and the Collector said to him in that low voice of his.

“On the contrary. All those that trespass on my home are my property. No payment in, you serve as a part of my Collection.” He turned back towards us and he continued, “Who would’ve thought that I would get the chance to not have one Timelord, but two. Such a rarity indeed.”

“Yeah bet you didn’t think this was going to happen when you woke up this morning.” The Doctor said sarcastically. The Collector chuckled softly and that’s when I noticed the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver in her back pocket. I looked around to make sure that no one was looking at me and I quickly took her sonic and stalked away towards one of the cells.

This was the only option I could think of that could give us enough time to get all of us out of here. And finally put an end to the Collector once and for all so that no one else could be captured and experimented on again. I arrived at cell 722 and pointed the screwdriver at the keypad which soon activated.

“This is madness. But you’re our only hope.” I walked inside and went right to work.

*3rd Person POV*

The Collector stared at the Doctor with obsessed eyes and he said to her.

“Who would’ve thought that there were two Timelords left in the entire galaxy. If only you were a male, then once my female one would take a mature form, I could’ve had you both make more Gallifreyian children.”

“Believe it or not I was a man. Actually many times before I’ve been a man.” The Doctor said.

“Interesting. So you can choose which gender you want to be.”

“I don’t really have control over my regenerations. They just happen and I stick with the form I get.”

“Pity. But no matter, you will soon join the child and you both will become my ultimate supply source and tourist attraction. While your friends become one of the many other displays I will showcase in my museum.”

“That won’t happen.”

“You’re so confident about that?”

“Yeah. See, I’ve been in rougher scrapes than this. Now this here, sure it’s a bit of a pickle but it’s way low on the amount of danger I’ve been in on a regular basis.” The Collector stroked his chin as he continued to stare at the Doctor with interest.

“So you’ve been everywhere and seen everything?”

“More than you can imagine pal. Now unless you’d like to be overloaded with the knowledge I’ve got, which trust me you don’t want to know, I suggest you free my friends, let me take the girl, and allow us to walk out of here quietly without another word.” The Collector chuckled icily and lowly and he said.

“And allow you to take my immortality away from me? Do you have any idea how powerful the essences of your kind is?”

“And that’s what makes people like you sick to my stomach. What you’ve been doing to that poor girl is inhumane! No one should ever be put through the hell you put her through! Extracting her Gallifreyian aura, draining her blood. Yeah I’ve seen the needle injections on her arms.”

“What you see as inhumane. I see as an opportunity. The essence of a timelord can give the bearer an immortal life. Even at the point of death, you can just regenerate yourself and start off fresh again. And now that I have too, I’ll forever be immortalized as the famed Collector of the last two Timelords!”

Suddenly the alarm began blaring out loudly. Everyone looked around in confusion, the Collector had both confusion and anger.

“What is going on?” it was then they heard screaming from down the hall as some more of the Collector’s worker’s were fleeing for their lives.

“Sir! Sir! Prisoner 722 has been reactivated! It’s going on a rampage!” one of the workers said before it was suddenly shot at and he fell to the ground dead.

“No.” The Doctor softly enunciated. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Why did you have it here!? What makes you think you could contain such a monster!?” she sneered.

“Doctor what’s going on? What are you talking about?” then they heard it. That haunting raspy, mechanical voice proclaiming.

‘WE ARE THE DALEKS! WE WILL REIGN SUPREME AND YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!!’ Soon coming down the hallway was the Doctor’s most feared and hatred rival, a Dalek.

It was an older generation Dalek but it still had it’s program to search and destroy everything that isn’t Dalek based.

‘SURRENDER NOW OR YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!!’ the Dalek proceeded to fire all over any everyone and everything. While the Dalek was literally destroying everything in sight and bodies kept dropping like flies, over by Graham, Ryan and Yaz, they suddenly felt themselves getting free of their crystal prisons.

They looked down and there stood (Y/n) holding their three rings. She slammed them on the ground and stepped on them.

“C’mon let’s go!” she whispered as the four of them raced over to the Doctor. They dodged and nearly got blasted by the explosions of the Dalek’s gun. Once they came up to the Doctor she turned to (Y/n) and said.

“Were you responsible for this?”

“I didn’t have a choice. This was the one thing they never went to. All of them were too afraid to go near it when it reactivated itself years ago.”

‘IDENDITY DETECTED. THE DOCTOR IS HERE!! THE DOCTOR IS THE ENEMY OF THE DALEKS! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!’ The Dalek suddenly screamed out.

“RUN!!!” The Doctor cried out as we ran out of the lobby and towards the side exit (that had no just been created thanks to our Dalek).

*My POV*

We quickly raced out but I was suddenly grabbed and I was pinned against the Collector’s chest.

“You’re not going anywhere! If I die then you’re coming with me!” I squirmed and tried to free myself from the Collector’s grip when suddenly he was shot in the head and he dropped down to the ground. The Dalek rolled up to me and it’s scope-like eye stared right at me.

‘TIMELORD ENERGY DETECTED! TIMELORD ENERGY DETECTED! EXTERMINATE!’ I quickly jumped out of the way and just barely managed to escape the death beam.

“(Y/N)!! RUN!! GET AWAY FROM IT!!!” As quick as I could I raced out of the building.

It wasn’t easy to escape the Dalek cause it kept coming right after us firing shot after shot, explosions coming up around us. Finally we came up into a blue box that said POLICE BOX written on top.

“In here quick! The forcefield’s up now, but it won’t last for long!” the Doctor cried out. One by one we each piled into the TARDIS before she shut the doors. As we all ran inside my first reaction was that it was bigger on the inside. Could this be more of my people’s technology or is this some kind of magic?

The Doctor quickly flipped a few of the controls and soon a wheezing sound came from the center of this room and a large light shined from the center console that stood in the middle of the controls.

“There. Daleks alone can’t navigate through space and time without a ship. We’re safe. Are you all alright fam?”

“I’m good.” Said the woman.

“I’m thankful that I won’t end up as a display case.” Said the elderly man.

“He’ll survive. And I’m okay too Doctor.” The young man said. The Doctor sighed with relief and pressed her hand up against her chest over her two hearts. She then turned to me and asked me as she knelt down in front of me.

“Are you alright (Y/n)?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that—thing. It was the only thing I could think of as a distraction that I knew they would be too afraid to fight back against.” I looked down sadly but she lifted my chin up and she said as she stroked the back of my head, burying her fingers into my short hair.

“The most important thing is that you’re okay. And that you’re free now.”

Free. I—I couldn’t believe it. For the first time in my life, I was finally free of the Collector, I would no longer be his lab rat or neglected ever again. He was dead and he couldn’t hurt me or anyone else again.

“But I must ask you one important question first?” she said in a serious manner. I tilted my head to the side in confusion and said.

“What?”

“How do you feel about going to Barcelona with me and the fam?” I looked around and these three people who had no idea who I was, all nodded with warm smiles on their faces. I turned to the Doctor and immediately hugged her.

There was soft laughter all around as she hugged me back. I nuzzled into her shoulder and I whispered to her.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. Now then, let me introduce you to the gang.” The Doctor then took me over to the three people and introduced me to Ryan, Yaz, and Graham. And she introduced them to me as the second to last Timelord from Gallifrey.

From then on, I stayed with the Doctor and her friends. We traveled throughout the entire galaxy and back and forth through time. Eventually there came a time when I went from calling her Doctor to mum. She was my savior, my protector, my mother. And I will always be grateful to the day when she and her friends came to save me.

#doctor who #doctor who imagine #doctor who imagines #doctor who x reader #doctor who fandom #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who oneshot #13th doctor #13th doctor x reader #13th doctor x child reader #Jodie Whittaker #doctor who fluff #13th doctor fanfic #13th doctor imagine #13th doctor imagines

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staliasjeronica · 3 years

Text

Riverdale S5 Ep9 Thoughts

It’s been awhile since I’ve watched Riverdale, I’m getting bored with them going back to Varchie out of literal nowhere and I’m assuming BH will soon follow because they don’t know how to write anything else even though that’s all the show needs to be good. Look how great the show was when they were finally starting to give us Barchie…. anyways thoughts under the cut so this post doesn’t clog up the tag. Also: MANIFESTING JERONICA AND BARCHIE BYE

- Honestly a lot of people are weirded out/annoyed by the alien plot but I love aliens so I’m lowkey okay with it.

- Alice this is Riverdale you really think some bad coincidence couldn’t have happened right after Polly left the phone booth?

- Veronica stop using money for no reason PLEASE. And god more VA scenes I’m so tired of it… though somehow it fits better than them being together as teens. But we’re not forgetting how he cheated on her with Betty, still loves Betty, and is mostly just going back to Veronica because it’s “comfortable”

- TABITHA AND VERONICA SCENE!! They look so good standing near one another ugh

- … if I heard the football coach say that over the intercom I’d literally think he’s a whiny piece of shit and never go to the games in spite. What the fuck was that???

- Jughead acting like he probably wouldn’t have written a story like that kid when he was in school lol okay...

- Reggie pointing at each bulldog and calling them a loser on his way out…. what the actual fuck asdfgjkl;

- Give Veronica literally anything than plots surrounding Archie and Hiram we’re so fucking TIRED

- Veronica needs Archie to talk to Reggie about this boring football bs but will make a wager with her dad that will go against everything Archie would like… please nothing about them as a couple has changed!!! IT’S SO BAD AND BORING!!!! WE DON’T WANT THEM!!!

- We really could have had teachers!Barchie and Jeronica but noooo they’d rather cater to toxic bh and va who don’t deserve to have their boring ships that ruin their characters. Why did Riverdale get stuck with the people who can’t write to save their lives?

- Cheryl and Betty finally having an actually good conversation wow-

- VA once again in bed sigh. The only thing getting me through is that Archie seems much happier with Betty muah

- Veronica stop being cute I’m trying to hate you and Archie getting back together out of nowhere

- Betty please for once in your life stop lying… I know you’re trying to protect her but if Polly really is dead it’s gonna hurt even worse now that you gave her hope

- LERMAN LOGAN AAFJDSHKHFJDFASHJKN THAT’S HIS FUCKING NAME? BRUH-

- “The story could have alluded to stuff happening at home.” “Then you should have come to us!” yes because parents who were abusing their child totally wouldn’t say anything to throw off the teacher who’s just trying to make sure their student is okay…….. why would he go to the parents first?

- #Kangs Cheryl shh we already don’t like them together please stop… anyways Swangs and Keggie when???

- Fangs really dated Kevin for 7 years, weirded out with his bf going into the woods to hook up with strangers and only now is talking about it… and they thought they’d be able to marry and have a baby together??? damn anyways SWANGS AND KEGGIE WHEN????

- But also Fangs is so right that’s why Kevin’s angry

- Adult friends BH is literally so much better than teenage co dependent toxic wannabe detectives but also if this makes them get together, also out of nowhere, I will rip out my hair

- what kind of nick name is T-Dub………… but anyways this scene was so cute

- See adult BH and VA could have been so good if they kept romance out of it since they already milked the shit out of it for four seasons (at least three too long), because them as adults, as FRIENDS feels so good to watch.

- HIRAM BENCHES REGGIE BC HE DOESN’T WANT TO LITERALLY BREAK A CHILD’S LEGS?!?!??!? This is how we get Reggie back to the “good side” and not Beggie sighhhhhhh imagine if we had good writers

- Betty’s like “…… the mothmen……. god I literally grew up to be a real detective what is this bullshit?"

- Also instead of mothmen why not just make it all about aliens by themselves

- This proves that BH is STILL not compatible after five seasons muah I guess I can deal with boring VA as long as the worst of the worst, BH, is gonna stay dead. At least VA is hot

- That edited picture of Betty and Polly I— afsdfhfasf

- Polly deserved so much better… anyways go read my Sweet Pea x Polly drabble!!! based after the time jump :)

- Kevin please if you’re gonna painfully flirt please learn a few actually good pick up lines

- Ummmm okay first of all why did that guy not say anything about Kevin calling him hot if he was straight and not into him hitting on him? Second of all, why does Kevin always get these awful plots, and lastly, what the fuck anyways can’t wait for Fangs to find out and sick the serpents on that Shane guy bc while him and Kevin aren’t together anymore, he definitely still cares about him

- Betty once again resorting to assault……. okay…… what a gross misuse of power

- Kevin feeling ashamed of him being gay because his mom once talked about him wearing husky clothes…? God everyone on this show deserves much better plots what the fuck

- Can’t wait for Betty to be suspended for this bullshit

- I don’t think the Logan’s would like Jughead of all people helping find their son but okay

- Betty is so unstable please how did she become a detective… ahhh right the writers eat from her ass lmao

- Love that Reggie gets no shit for just suddenly switching sides

- also sigh pairing up bh and va for the millionth time. It’s interesting that everyone enjoys the show much better when literally anyone else interact

- more singing…………Cheryl you’re not in high school anymore BUT it is lowkey a bop somehow though

- I know the answer is no but V never told Archie of her dumbass wager huh

- 0 to 52………………. so how is Hiram not gonna win this. We find out he cheated in some way and is disqualified or something?

- VERONICA, REGGIE, AND TABITHA HUGGING AHHH NEW OT3 FUCKKK

- Why is Hiram so mad his team has 52 points I—

- That kiss was so boring please give us Barchie and Jeronica and stop having V go back too Archie

- THEY LEFT RIVERDALE THAT QUICKLY? damn okay

- Betty feeling bad just because her mom found out she lied… like okay I know we’re supposed to want Betty on the case but she really shouldn’t be. She’s such an awful detective. She had potential in the beginning but :/

- anyways thank fucking god it’s over that felt like a million years long of boring bullshit where is Barchie and Beggie and Jeronica and Keggie and Karchie and Swangs ugh make Riverdale interesting again PLEASE I’ve never stopped watching like this, ever…

#Riverdale #Thoughts

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clintbartonswife · 4 years

Text

bird cage

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader, mentioned!Sam x Riley, Steve, Natasha Summary: HYDRA had caged you, all Sam wants to do is set you free Notes: mentions HYDRA torture, soulmate!au, mutual pining? I will probably write a part two to this at some point masterlist || part two

The mark on you collar bone was all you had left - the only thing that their machines couldn't take from you.

No one had ever told you what the mark meant, why the bird was caged behind iron bars, or why it couldn't be removed. You were grateful for it though.

The mark gave you a sense of comfort that you never got from anything else. No matter how many times they tried to break you, all you had to do was look at the bird and you felt calm again, safe amongst the worst people you’d ever met.

For the last few days, it was the only thing you concentrated on.

No one came in and out of your cell, the isolation confusing to you. Normally you’d be experimented on at least every other day, not to mention the leering insults that would normally get thrown at you by passing guards.

You guessed you should revel in the silence while you had a chance, an uneasy feeling brewing in your gut.

You were awoken the next day to footsteps echoing through the corridor just outside of your cell, the first sound you had heard in days. You stilled, fear coursing through your veins as you realised you didn't recognise them.

You had been stuck here for so long that by now you could tell every guard, scientist and staff member apart just by the sound of their footsteps. This person was new.

New recruits usually meant pain.

Another two pairs of footsteps joined the first, your heart now beating like crazy. Three. Three new people.

“Anything?”

The voice seemed to bounce off the walls of your cell, crisp, clear and direct. Authoritarian. A new handler perhaps?

“He’s not here - I checked”

Another man’s voice, though this one was softer. Before you could register what he had said, the third voice spoke.

“Did you check the cells?”

Female. Also hard, though not as harsh as you were used to. Who were these people?

The second man spoke again, this time nearer your cell, “Not all of them - why would Barnes be hiding in a cell?”

“That exact reason” The woman replied, sounding slightly exasperated as footsteps moved further left, “you didn't think to check”

“huh”

You held your breath as the sound of opening cell doors filled the space, your hand reaching up to cover your mark protectively as you curled up in the corner of your cell.

Jumping slightly as your door swung open, you kept your head tucked in between your legs, trying your best not to move a muscle.

“No, nothing in he- holy shit!”

“What, Sam?” the woman said, footsteps hurriedly rushing over towards you.

“There’s a person in here”

“Barnes?”

“No - too small”

You tensed up further as you heard some shuffling by the doorway, the woman stepping over to you. She stopped a safe distance away.

“Are you okay?”

How on earth were you supposed to answer that?

Sensing your reluctance to answer, the second man - Sam? - spoke again, “We’re not HYDRA”

“What?”

Your voice was croaky from misuse, eyes narrowing as you slightly lifted your head up, getting your first glance at the new arrivals.

The woman was standing just slightly to your left, the two men blocking the doorway.

“We’re not with HYDRA” the first man repeated, more firmly this time, “you’re safe”

You huffed a laugh at that, curling back into your tight ball, “Am I? How do I know you’re not just gonna kidnap me like they did, huh?”

“Because we’re looking for somebody” the first man replied, choosing his words carefully, “somebody who was taken - like you. We hate what HYDRA did to them. We’d never do the same”

“Who?”

“Im sorry?” Sam asked

“Who are you looking for?”

“His name’s Bucky - you may know him as the Winter Soldier”

You turned to face the woman, eyes connecting to hers.

“You wont find him”

The blond man stepped forwards, hand lifting his shield threateningly, “Excuse me?”

“Steve-”

Backing even further into the corner, you made eye contact with Sam, “You wont find him. When he wants to be found, he’ll come to you”

“How do you know?”

You tapped the side of your head lightly, a small smile on your face.

Huffing, the first man Steve stood down, arm returning to his side.

“There’s no one left here. It was abandoned - they left you here to rot”

A mirthless chuckle escaped you, hugging your arms tighter around your body, “They gave me mercy”

The woman beside you frowned, exchanging a glance with the other two before offering her hand, “Come with us. We can take you somewhere safe”

You eyed the hand warily for a minute. With a sigh, you uncurled and accepted it, letting her help you off of the ground.

A small gasp came from Sam, his eyes fixed on your mark.

“It’s you”

“What?”

“Her collar bone - look Nat”

Your hand moved to cover it automatically, not liking the attention it was getting, starting to back off into the corner again.

“I don't understand” you whispered, eyeing them.

The excited look on Sam’s face dimmed, his fists clenching slightly as he stepped forward, “do you know what that is?”

His voice sounded almost hurt, his eyes turning sad as you shook your head.

“I know its mine” you eventually said, lifting your head up higher, “They couldn't take it away from me”

This time it was Steve who stepped forward, face aghast as Sam let out a punched noise.

“God, no - we’d never - they tried to remove it?”

You nodded, gaze flitting between the three of them. The woman’s face was steely, though her eyes were angry.

“If you come with us they wont be able to try again” Nat spoke, tone calculated, “You can keep it - that's a promise”

Hesitating for only a moment, you nodded, Sam relaxing slightly.

You didn't speak again until you boarded their jet, carrying you away from the cold grey walls that you had been encased in for years.

“What is it?”

Your voice was quiet, and you were sure that if Sam hadn't been watching you so closesly it would’ve been lost amongst the white noise of the engine.

“What’s what?”

“The mark - you seemed to know what it was when you saw it”

His gaze moved to your collarbone where your fingers gently stroked the branded skin, clearing his throat before answering.

“Everyone’s born with at least one on their skin” he stated, avoiding eye contact, “they’re called soulmarks, and they all have a copy on the skin of someone else”

“Everyone has one?”

“Yes”

“What happens when you find the one that matches?”

Sam gave you a small smile, averting his gaze to his feet as he cleared his throat, “You know you’ve found your soulmate”

You gave a small noise, to let him know you’d heard him, before frowning in thought. Silence fell over the two of you again, only breaking when you nudged his leg with your foot.

“Soulmates are safe” you stated, voice slightly unsure, “I think I know that”

Sam smiled again, this time with a less melancholic look, and nodded.

“They should be, yes”

You took a moment to let the validation sink in, going back to staring resolutely at your hands placed in your lap.

“Do you think my soulmate would still want me?”

“Wha- of course. Why would you ask that?”

You flashed him a rueful smile, gesturing in the direction you had come from.

“Well, I don't think that matters at all” Sam said firmly, “You weren't there by choice”

You hummed thoughtfully, tilting your head to the side as you surveyed him.

“Where’s your mark?”

“I have two” Sam said, hand absentmindedly coming to rest on his thigh, “though the first one is fading quite a bit now”

You frowned, “why?”

“They died”

“Oh... why do they fade?”

Sam shrugged, sadness clear in his eyes, “No one’s really sure. The marks just fade out until they look like a scar - still there but less … obvious”

“And your other mark?”

Sam just smiled, turning around as Nat’s voice ran over the intercom, “ETA 3 minutes, get your gear ready to go, Maximoff is waiting outside the safe house”

“I’ll be back” Sam sighed, moving to the other side of the jet where he started to re-pack the equipment.

Your thoughts began to take over as you listened absentmindedly to the sounds of the aircraft, fingers lightly tracing the lines soothingly. You knew that you felt safe around Sam, the others not so much - but if he trusted them then you guess they couldn't be too bad - besides, it’s not like you had much choice in the matter.

“We’re here” Sam murmured, hand gently hovering over your shoulder, as if afraid to spook you, “you’re safe now”

________________________________________________________________

@xxloki81xx @geeksareunique @bangtan-serendipity

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whatdoyouexpectthistime · 5 years

Text

6 Feet

The whole thing, from beginning to end.

______________

A knock at the door.

Knocks on the door are usually fairly innocuous.

And this one was punctuated by the excited barks of two puppy greyhounds named Kaga and Ishigami.

“Oh, come on you guys,” Miho complained, following the excited loping bounce of her dogs, “there is no need to bark at absolutely everything that approaches the house.”

Apparently, the puppies disagreed, and continued to bark as if a world full of murderers were congregated on the other side of the door.

“For fuck’s sake Kaga,” she huffed, dancing to dodge the poochies underfoot, “get out of the way!”

But the joviality in her voice, the laughter, drained away when she looked at the AV intercom Goto had insisted they install.

There stood an ominous entourage of Public Safety captains and lieutenants.

“Sit,” Miho barked, and in a scurry, both puppies scampered back and planted their bums on the floorboards.

The latch came free, then the deadbolt, before Miho pulled open the heavy, solid wood door to peer at the conspicuous gathering through the security door – and each of them wore a solemn expression no grate or barrier could protect her from.

“Captains,” she said, also focus on keeping her mind from jumping to catastrophic conclusions, “Lieutenants, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Mrs. Goto,” Ishigami nodded evenly, but she knew him well enough to interpret the way he fidgeted with his glasses as a bad sign. “Would it be too much trouble to come inside?”

Silently she gave a nod, but the puppies at her back began barking the moment she unlocked the security door, and growled at the sight of Kaga.

“Kaga that’s enough,” Miho snapped sharply, and Kaga – the man not the dog – blinked and straightened.

“Daaw, look how they’ve grown!” Kurosawa gushed, dropping to his knees the moment there was room, and both puppies tackled him happily.

“Kaga stop humping his knee,” Miho sighed, avoiding the human Kaga’s gaze, knowing it was growing increasingly irritated. “Ahh, this way gentlemen.”

No more was said between then and the lounge room; not even their footfalls against the floorboards made sound, and yet Miho could already hear every word they had come to say.

She had spent her career in matchmaking reading people, after all, and their strides, the way their eyes stared straight ahead and the tight set of their jaws spoke volumes in their silence. She had not known them to visit as a group before, Kaga and Shinonome hadn’t even set foot in the Goto residence alone, and the Master of the house’s conspicuous absence from the congregation was absolutely the reason they were there.

“I’ll put some coffee on,” Miho declared when the men all stood uncomfortably in the bright, airy space, the puppies frolicking between them.

“Don’t,” Kaga dropped, catching her wrist as she stepped toward the kitchen.

Foreseeing their purpose, Miho did not react as she might once have; there was no scathing warning, no brazen physical response, just the slight downward tilt of her head and the shift of her body toward the still unoccupied couch.

“Please, sit,” she offered, and all but Captain Ishigami found a place to sit.

He, crouched down in front of Miho and reached for her hands in an uncharacteristic physical gesture, cool, slender fingers wrapping lightly around hers.

“As you know, Lieutenant Goto has been undercover for several months,” he said slowly, clearly choosing his words carefully. “And while he has not been able to contact you, communication with Public Safety was consistent in line with mission operational parameters.”

“Was,” Miho repeated, plucking the crucial word from his sentence and lighting it up in the space between them.

Puppy-Kaga and Puppy-Ishigami’s sleek bodies leapt up onto the couch, and sensing the gathering storm about to lash their mother, they curled up either side of her.

“There was a critical incident last night,” Ishigami went on, his shoulder twitch suggesting he’d like to adjust his glasses again, but he maintained contact with her palms. “A gunfight erupted and…”

Puppy-Kaga interrupted with a whining yawn before turning his head to rest into Miho’s lap, and this was all Kurosawa could take, covering his mouth to stifle a sob.

“Is he dead?” Miho asked, so, so quiet though her voice did not tremble – that is the truth she’d known the moment she had opened to the door to find them all standing there.

Even Ishigami seemed to be struggling with the maintenance of his usually perfect, stoic façade, a frown driving a deep arrow between his brows.

“We recovered digital footage from the scene,” he expounded without directly answering her question, “and,” he added after taking a slow, deep breath, “found the burned remains of the gang he had infiltrated early this morning. We’ve confirmed Goto – Seiji – was among them.”

The closing flutter of Miho’s eyes saved her from the struggle in Ishigami’s expression, but threatened her with the horrific blanks her mind filled in, not that her imagination could possibly conjure up a nightmare greater than what had already been delivered.

“I see,” she whispered, a sound from somewhere deep within her throat. “Thank you,” she went on as she looked up and around at her husband’s closest colleagues, “thank you all for coming to tell me personally, I appreciate it, and I know Seiji would too.”

“What?” Kurosawa coughed, pausing in his own anguish to blink at her in surprise. “Thank you? That’s all?”

“Toru,” Soma hissed sharply.

“But!” he insisted, seeming both confused and a little outraged by Miho’s calm.

“It’s okay,” Miho smiled sadly. “I understand you were all very close to him.”

“You’re his wife,” Kurosawa wept, even as Shinonome took his arm and gave him a tug toward the door.

“Rest assured, Mrs. Goto, this won’t go unpunished,” Kaga assured her, his teeth clenched fiercely.

“I believe you, Captain,” Miho nodded, sliding Puppy-Kaga away and standing slowly, forcing Ishigami to his feet also. “Seiji has every trust in you both.”

There was no quibble over her misused verb tense, just the awkwardness of men of action trapped in a situation where heroism couldn’t be rushing in with guns blazing.

The only hero among them now, it seemed, was dead.

“Thank you again for coming,” Miho expressed gently, her glance past them to the corridor leading to the front door a clear signal they did not miss.

Reluctantly, however, Ishigami stepped back, disquieted by her lack of reaction in his own way.

“Is there someone we can call for you?” he offered, forced to follow her down the hall, Kaga and Soma in tow. “Miss Mann perhaps? Miss Genever? Liana?”

“No, thank you,” Miho replied politely, opening the door to reveal Kurosawa sitting on the porch with Shinonome hovering over him. “I know you’re all very busy, and your investigation is not over.”

Getting to his feet, it looked as if Kurosawa had something more to say, but he sucked it back into his chest and turned down the path.

“You’ll let me know when you’ve learned more?” she then enquired, and both Ishigami and Kaga nodded soberly.

“Straight away,” Kaga assured her, “and… if you should need anything, just call, any of us.”

At his atypical kindness, Miho smiled mildly.

“Of course, Captain. I will.”

Forget - click to listen to song for mood (I wrote and sung it too!)

Her nod was a clear dismissal, and yet the four remaining officers all felt reluctant now to leave, even though they’d dreaded the duty that had awaited them in their colleague’s home. But eventually they bid their solemn farewell, having been there no more than twenty minutes, and with a quiet click, Miho let the door close shut and placed her back against it.

The burn began in her eyes then flushed her cheeks with a fire no amount of tears could quell; but they were trapped in her chest, along with the last breath she’d taken as the door closed. Though she had known there was a possibility her husband might not come back from an operation, the reality of it being delivered to her by the men he trusted most, was somehow beyond her comprehension.

It didn’t make sense.

It couldn’t be real.

He would call and explain it was all some mix up.

When the dizziness became too much, her body forced her to inhale – lungs full of fire she released in a choking, guttural, sobbing gasp, that shattered the strength of her legs. Sliding down, a ragdoll curling against the floorboards, Miho was allowed only mere seconds before Ishigami and Kaga began poking her with their slender muzzles and licking at her cheeks.

Despite having declined Ishigami’s offer, Jazz simply let herself into the Goto residence and hunting down where Miho was curled up in the shower recess.

The water was running cold over her best friend’s naked body, but she didn’t seem to notice her intense shaking, or the deep imprints her nails had made where she was clutching legs.

Wordlessly, Miho followed Jazz’s directions, allowing the other woman to dry her, before numbly stepping into her pyjamas.

“I don’t suppose you feel like eating,” Jazz sighed, folding the doona up to Miho’s chin.

“We were going to have duck,” Miho murmured, one hand on Ishigami’s head, the other on Kaga’s as they laid either side of her.

“We?” Jazz frowned, and Miho nodded slightly.

“Me and the kids,” she snorted, but it was a mirthless sound.

“The dogs get duck?” Jazz blinked, looking between the two most spoilt dogs ever.

Miho’s eyes closed and bit her lower lip, and in response the two sleek puppies nuzzled against her.

“Aww Honey,” Jazz exhaled, her heart breaking and surely as if Kuni had died. “I know there is nothing I can say to make this okay,” she went on softly, stroking Miho’s hair gently, “so I’ll just be here, for whatever you need for as long as you need it.”

“You know, I told him I had a bad feeling about this mission,” Miho whispered, lifting her lids and rolling her eyes to the ceiling, “but I would never ask him not to go, because he’s never given me a reason to doubt when he promises me he’ll always come home.”

Patiently, Jazz listened, while Ishigami began licking Miho’s fingertips.

“So,” Miho inhaled slowly, and then breathed out the rest of her sentence, “I don’t know why I’m being so pathetic… if he promised… he promised… so he will come back.”

And another piece of Jazz’s heart broke off.

If Ishigami and the others were sure enough about Goto’s fate they actually came to tell Miho about it in person, then Jazz had to think they were certain. Miho’s denial was not surprising, just one of many terrible steps on the road of grief she would have to travel – and not for the first time. Perhaps, Jazz wondered, Daisetsu’s faked death helped allow Miho to imagine this was all some elaborate ruse for some other purpose.

When Miho sat up, it was almost as if in clairvoyance, for the very next second both dogs’ ear pricked up and they leapt from the bed before galloping for the front door.

Then there was urgent knocking.

Jazz actually had to jump back a little as hope glimmered in Miho’s eyes and she threw back the blankets. Her bare feet slapped loudly against the floorboards as she ran, and she made no attempts to hold back her puppies before wrenching open the door.

Both Ishigami and Kaga were more than excited to see the figure on the other side of the door, leaping at him with reckless abandon, but Miho slumped against the door frame. Jazz appeared behind her, biting her lip as Subaru fought the puppies off to wrap Miho in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, shoving the foil covered casserole he had in one hand at Jazz.

This time, Miho didn’t cry, even if Subaru did.

“It doesn’t have coriander in it, does it?”

“You love coriander!” he attempted to joke, but the look on Jazz’s face told him he’d made a terrible blunder.

“No,” Miho disagreed quietly. “That’s Seiji.”

“Oh,” Subaru dropped, cringing a second but he had a smile affixed when he finally brought Miho to arm’s length.

“It’s fine,” she smiled back. “Everyone’s in a bit of a tizzy at the moment.”

“Except you,” he noted a little quizzically. “The very picture of calm and collected.”

“How many times has he nearly died?” she asked, turning and heading into the living area with the pups on her heels. “Every other week, really, right?”

Glancing sideways at Jazz, Subaru followed, shrugging awkwardly. It was clear to Jazz that Subaru didn’t have the words, not to comfort Miho, or himself. True, Subaru and Goto always bickered, but their actions had proven time and time again they were best friends.

“Tea? Coffee?” Miho chirped, obviously attempting to change Subaru’s grim expression.

“Yeah,” he answered ambiguously, scrutinising the house’s interior as he trailed Miho and Jazz into the kitchen.

“Yeah what?”

“What happened here?” he replied, only looking more confused. “This place is spotless.”

Another blunder for anyone who knew Goto was a bit on the untidy side.

“Are you suggesting my home is usually a mess?” Miho sniffed.

“Well, no,” he stumbled. “But there’s clean, and then there’s I could eat off the tiles clean.”

“We’ve been keeping busy,” Jazz clarified.

“Because work isn’t enough to keep us occupied apparently,” Miho dropped sarcastically.

“Should you even be wandering around?” he then asked of Jazz, who while obviously pregnant did not seem to be in any discomfort.

“Being pregnant isn’t a disability, you know,” she grunted, then dropped her voice. “Unlike being an idiot.”

“I heard that,” Subaru grated sourly, but his brows lifted when Miho let out a chuckle.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think this comedy routine was for me.”

Both her friends fell silent.

“Oh, cut it out will you?” she huffed, throwing up her hands in annoyance. “Come on, Subaru, you’ve known Seiji far longer than me, so you should know this is bullshit.”

“Um…” he squirmed. “I’ve seen the evidence, Miho, the forensics…”

“Yeah?” she snorted. “You know who saw the evidence for Daisetsu’s ‘death’? The forensics? I did, and we all know how that ended.”

Knowingly, and not very discreetly, Jazz rolled her eyes to Subaru.

“Cut that out,” Miho snapped. “He’s not dead, and that’s all there is to it.”

She left them both standing in the kitchen a little bewildered by her curtness, but Jazz eventually let out a heavy sigh.

“I tried to talk to her about funeral arrangements, but she just shuts me down,” she explained solemnly. “I get where she is coming from, what with Daisetsu’s faked death, but if Captain Ishigami and the whole of Public Safety is sure, then…”

Helplessly, she shrugged.

“She doesn’t want me to comfort her,” she exhaled, her eyes misting over a little, and Subaru drew closer. “I don’t know how to comfort her, and I’ve always known.”

“We just be here,” he said, offering his arms and an awkward but honest hug. “So, when she figures out what she needs, we can be there to give it.”

People came and went, but it was the arrival of Goto’s parents and brother that complicated the situation more. Under any other circumstance, the presence of family might have brought some solace, but Miho was… as Miho was – forward about her opinion.

“I’m not interested in burying an empty casket,” she declared stubbornly.

Haruka looked tearily helpless.

Shinichi scowled.

Issei became angry.

“I thought you loved him!” he barked, and Miho’s face darkened in response.

“I love him, present tense,” she snapped. “And it’s because I love him, know him, trust him, that I can’t and won’t believe he’d be stupid enough to get killed.”

“But Miho,” Shinichi beseeched, and in an unusual sign of physical affection he attempted to hug her.

Miho dodged.

“No, Dad,” she argued.

“You’ve always known his work was dangerous,” Shinichi continued, his tone settling back into something gruffer. “As much as we might want this not to be true, there are things beyond our control, beyond Seiji’s control.”

“You go,” Miho told them, nodding emphatically. “I understand. If you believe this, then you need to find closure, but I will not put another box in the ground.”

The door slammed, Kaga and Ishigami lucky to scoot through with tails intact.

In the bedroom, Miho paced back and forth until her eyes came to rest on the pinstripe suit laid out across the grey duvet.

Haruka had picked it out. Even though there wasn’t a body as such to put in it, she’d felt it symbolic of his professionalism, of his nature, and an important part of letting him go. Kaga and Ishigami, however, thought the suit made perfect bedding, and curled up together to watch their mother scowl.

“What the hell, Miho?” Issei charged, bursting into the room. “Where do you get off talking to Mum like that?”

His eyes were red – he had been crying, but now he was just angry.

“You think you’re hurting? What about us?” he snapped, spittle peppering the air between them.

“He’s not dead, Issei!” Miho shouted, right into his face, then pointed at Goto’s suit. “It’s empty, you see that? EMPTY.”

“Because what’s left of him is locked up in a mortuary!” Issei fired back, not backing down – but that only drew him into striking range.

Redder still, Issei looked absolutely shocked with Miho’s palm print emblazoned across his left cheek.

“Your brother would be heartbroken you’ve so little faith in him,” she hissed, her eyes wild and her tone low, seething. “Go pick a casket, choose music and scripture and flowers to lay at a hollow grave, but do not think for a moment I will partake in such a farce.”

She moved so quickly her puppies didn’t have a chance to catch up. Bursting from the bedroom, she stalked to the front door past a bewildered Shinichi and Haruka and snatched her jacket.

After stomping several blocks, Miho hailed a taxi, glad she left emergency money secured in the inside pocket of her coat. It was enough to get her to Station, where Agasa raised an eyebrow at her in recognition. The death of a police officer, regardless of what department they belonged to, did not remain a secret for very long, and though Agasa might have seen Goto and Miho only a handful of times – if that – Second Unit had raised more than a few glasses in honour of a fallen comrade and a good man.

“Mrs. Goto,” he greeted softly, as Miho sat herself down on a stool at the bar. “What can I get you?”

“Enough whiskey to make it all go away,” she replied, not questioning how he knew her, just tapping the bar with her fingertips expectantly.

Agasa knew well enough when to argue with a customer and when to let them drink. At least if she was there, he could keep an eye on her, call in backup if things got a bit too ugly. He placed the bottle down beside her, though it was only a third full, then a glass.

“Don’t go too overboard,” he warned her softly, and in response she grunted and poured for herself.

As she drank, she muttered, but she was not looking for a response from Agasa or those who came and went.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” she murmured, shaking her head.

Hitting Issei like that – she knew she’d done a bad thing and would have to apologise.

“How can I convince them?” she sighed, staring into her glass but quickly turning her head when she sensed a presence close behind her.

“Convince who of what, Princess?” Baba enquired in his usual happy tone.

“You know what,” she replied dryly, taking another sip as he sat down beside her. “You know everything.”

“It is true I know a lot of things,” he smiled, waving to Agasa before pointing at Miho’s glass. “Not quite everything, though.”

Working with Baba at the agency had proven both a blessing and a curse at times. He had this infuriating way of being jovial no matter what happened, this ability to see the upside in even the darkest of situations. It could be both uplifting and excruciating at the same time. There was also the fact that he had made himself available on and off through Miho’s single years as a physical comfort: the best kind of friend with benefits.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, still not looking into his face.

She wasn’t sure she could stand to see the sparkle in his eyes or the playfulness on his lips.

“You know this is a police bar, right?” she added.

Baba shrugged.

“I don’t know why I should be concerned,” he smirked. “I’m a law-abiding citizen; besides, I don’t think Detective Ayase meets the height requirement to get in.”

Miho might have snorted, but the air in her lungs was lethargic, morose.

“Come on, Princess,” he crooned, giving her arm a gentle nudge with his, as Agasa put a tumbler down in front of him. “I tracked you down because I thought you’d have given me a call by now.”

“I’ve been a little preoccupied,” she pointed out, emptying her glass and pouring herself another, then one for Baba.

“Yes, yes, funerals – so many little details to plan for,” he agreed, one hand moving in an animated way as he spoke. “Eulogies and floral arrangements and boxes for burial.”

Now, Miho looked at him, her eyes narrowed. But she said nothing, studying him, searching him. What he said was not meant to hurt her; no, he was teasing her because…

“Tell me,” she demanded in a cold hiss, turning her body to his. “Tell me I’m right.”

“Right about?” he poked, obviously enjoying the little game, pushing her because he indeed knew her well enough he knew her limits.

“I will fucking deck you, Mitsunari,” she growled, leaning forward and baring her teeth. “Tell me I am right. He isn’t dead.”

“Hot damn, you’re sexy when you get angry,” he grinned. “You really ought to wear more leather.”

Limit.

He probably could have dodged, but he didn’t, so when Miho grabbed him by the tie and dragged him off his barstool, he slid off easily.

“Riding crop, too,” Baba added, allowing himself to be dragged to a booth and shoved into it.

“Cut the shit,” she hissed, dropping in opposite him. “Playtime is over.”

“A little birdy told me something fascinating,” he admitted finally, triumphant. “Did you know that DNA identification of burnt bone can be pretty reliable?”

Eyes sharp, Miho brain raced ahead to find Baba’s point before he voiced it.

“In extremely bad cases though, if someone was to use, say, white phosphorus or thermite, for example, bones don’t leave much at all – no nuclear DNA – and even mitochondrial profiles are sporadic in their reliability at best.”

“The gang he infiltrated had access to thermite and white phosphorus?” Miho blinked.

Of course, she knew Public Safety worked dangerous cases chasing really dangerous people, but for criminals to have and use dangerous chemicals like those put a whole new perspective on it.

“Maybe,” Baba mused noncommittally, “but I think the point is more that it’s highly unlikely any remains burned to that extent could be positively identified.”

Miho licked her lips.

She knew better than to ask about Baba’s sources, and knew through experience – even if she didn’t know how – that his information was always accurate.

“Captain Ishigami wouldn’t, he wouldn’t tell me it’s him if he wasn’t sure,” she exhaled to herself. “He wouldn’t accept the death of a subordinate if there was any doubt.”

“You know the guy that well?” Baba posed. “I mean, these Public Safety guys lie for a living, right?”

“To me? About that?” Miho wondered, her throat dry.

Trembling hands took her mobile phone from her pocket.

“That I don’t know the answer to,” he admitted, leaning a little closer to see what Miho was texting. “Going straight to the top, huh?”

“No, Namba’s out of town,” Miho murmured, as she fired off her text message to Liana, “but Captain Ishigami will do.”

“I wouldn’t want to be him,” Baba smirked swirling the drink he hadn’t touched yet. “You have a plan?”

“Yeah,” Miho rumbled, slipping from the barstool and throwing a fist full of money for her drinks on the counter. “I’m going to get really, really angry.”

Rationality still existed, Miho felt it tugging her in the opposite direction to her destination, but she ignored it. Her rage was a blaze bringing warmth back to the numbness of her flesh, and she allowed it to fill her to overflowing before she arrived at the restaurant Liana had unwittingly revealed as the location of Miho’s target.

“Miho?” Liana blinked, as Miho stalked between the tables – definitely a woman on a mission.

“Mrs. Goto,” Ishigami added, seeming surprised but quick to rise to his feet. “Are you alright?”

“Out of respect for our friendship and your personal and professional relationship with Seiji,” Miho began, her tone an ice-pick: cold, pointed, “I’m going to give you the opportunity to step out with me and have this conversation.”

Understandably, Ishigami looked surprised, but Liana appeared downright shocked and both their mouths hung open too long for Miho’s liking.

“Very well,” Miho grunted. “Explain the conviction you have Seiji is dead, when the extreme heat you’ve admitted rendered the remains you found to nothing but bones?”

People looked in the direction of the standing pair as they remained facing one another, though the volume of their voices was not especially loud.

“I’m no scientist, Captain,” Miho went on to fill the void once more, “or a weapon’s expert, but to reach the kind of temperatures needed to reduce human bone to the condition you found them in, in an open space like that warehouse, you’d need some seriously restricted firepower.”

“Where did you get this idea from?” Ishigami asked finally, his expression a good approximation of concerned.

“You mean, how do I know you grossly overstated the certainty of my husband’s death?” she snapped, the crack of a whip that silenced everything else in the restaurant.

“Miho,” Liana whispered, reaching for her hand, but Miho yanked it away.

“Look into his eyes, Liana,” Miho growled, pointing into Ishigami’s face. “Imagine Seiji is telling you your husband is dead, all the while you’re holding evidence it isn’t true in your hand.”

“I know this is very difficult for you,” Ishigami attempted, watching the maitre’d cautiously approach in his peripheral vision. “No one wants Lieut..”

“I am his WIFE!” she roared, and people at nearby tables flinched at the violence of her retort, the rawness of her emotion. “Difficult is an understatement I will not bear when you know he’s alive.”

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you t…” the maitre’d interrupted, but the freeze of his jaw when Miho’s eyes fell upon him made it clear he saw death in them.

“Tell me where he is,” Miho demanded on little more than a breath, an imperative she exhaled into Ishigami’s face. “Give me the truth.”

“I can see, Mrs. Goto, the truth is too much for you at present,” Ishigami said evenly, but Liana saw him adjust his glasses – noted and filed it. “Grief is…”

“I will not mourn the living,” Miho snarled, blind to the much larger man who had come to back the maitre’d.

“Ma’am,” came a firmer, warning voice.

Miho tilted her head in some form of acknowledgement but maintained eye contact with Ishigami.

“I will never forget this pain,” she hissed, gaze like razor-wire. “And I will never forget your part in it.”

Before she could be manhandled out of the restaurant, Miho turned on her heels and strode out, to bystanders a vengeful force of wrathful energy.

(GUEST WRITER @BelXsar! Scene RPed)

There was a full moment of silence, then another, and another, before the interior of the restaurant finally started to return to its former activity before the human whirlwind that was Miho Fujisawa Goto had blown in and then just as dramatically swept out. The restaurant staff resumed their former duties, and the other patrons’ gazes went back to their dining companions, while Liana studied her husband with hers, even as he just as studiously avoided it. They had just been contemplating what to have for dessert when Miho had arrived, but it was clear that any appetite for sweets had vanished just as abruptly. With a sidelong glance towards the discarded dessert menus lying on the table, Captain Hideki Ishigami emptied his water glass, then signalled their waiter and coolly asked for the cheque. The bill paid, he got up, and his wife followed him out of the restaurant.

His hand reached out for hers on the street outside, and Liana took it, noting his grasp was on the cool side as usual but his grip a bit tighter. They strode silently, hand in hand, to where their car was parked, and he opened the door for her before sliding into the driver’s seat. As the car pulled into traffic, he still had yet to meet his wife’s gaze which had remained mostly fixed on him all the while.

On the silent drive home, Liana pulled out her phone and tapped a quick text to Jazz Mann Akiwa, hoping their shared friend would update her on what was going on when clearly her husband had no desire to do so.

Ishigami remained silent even as they arrived home. It was after they entered their flat, taken off their shoes, hung up their coats, and he seemed to be heading towards the bathroom, that Liana finally quickened her stride and cut in front of her husband, putting her hand against the wall to block his path.

Enough was enough.

She had given him the appropriate discretion while they had been in public, despite the maelstrom of questions running through her mind. Now, in the privacy of their own home, she could remain silent no longer.

“Hideki,” she said quietly, softly, yet no less firmly. “What is going on?”

Her dark blue eyes sought out his grey ones, intent.

His hand was half-way to his glasses before he actually stopped himself.

“I thought perhaps I would take a shower,” he explained, as if as much was obvious. “I have an early meeting tomorrow and will not have time in the morning.”

If he knew what she was actually getting at - and the man wasn’t a moron, so he knew - there was not a single hint of it in his expression.

Liana tilted her head slightly and gave him a look, one eyebrow raised. “Please don’t insult me, and I won’t return the favor. You know very well what I mean.”

With practised zen, Ishigami’s expression didn’t so much as twitch; still, when he spoke again, there was at least a little emotion in his tone.

“It is understandable Mrs. Goto would not wish to believe Lieutenant Goto is gone,” he explained, “and regrettable her desire seems to have manifested so strongly. You are right to be concerned; I shall organise for a counsellor to touch base with her tomorrow.”

Liana’s eyebrows drew together a little. “As passionate as Miho can be, she’s not a woman prone to hysterics. And I think you appreciate that, Hideki. This is not just a grieving widow deep in denial and going off the deep end. She said something about extreme heat, and remains being reduced to nothing. Which you didn’t deny. You’re deflecting. Whatever it is, I think Miho has proven in the past she can handle it, any truth, rather than a bunch of lies. As Lieutenant Goto’s wife, she deserves that much, at least.”

Responding seemed a little difficult for Ishigami - not because he didn’t know what to say, but because saying it to his inquisitive wife would not be easy.

“You know I cannot discuss an ongoing investigation,” he told her gently, his brows lowering just a little bit.

He wasn’t without empathy.

“Doing so could put further lives at risk, and that is the very reason rules and protocols exist.”

“Then she’s not wrong.”

Liana’s words were murmured to herself as much as her reticent husband, said in confirmation more than any triumph. She looked back up at Ishigami. “You don’t have to tell her any details. But can’t you at least indicate you’re still just trying to confirm the identification of the remains, and that it’s still an ‘ongoing investigation’? If you tell her to keep things to herself, she will. She understands the importance of discretion, as much for her husband’s safety as the case itself. Just don’t add to her trauma, Hideki. You know she’s not someone you want on the warpath against you, and that’s what’s going to happen if you keep lying to her and suggesting she’s crazy.”

His wife calling him a liar was something he knew he just had to weather. Despite his absolute devotion to the job, it hurt no less.

“I do not believe she is crazy,” he said carefully. “Grief takes a great many forms and denial can be a natural part of the mourning process.”

This wasn’t anything Liana didn’t already know.

“If I lost you,” he continued, hazarding to raise his hand toward her cheek, “I would not wish to believe it, either; I would do anything to undo it… But I cannot give this to Mrs. Goto, or to you, no matter how much we both want to alleviate her suffering.”

She looked down for a moment, shaking her head briefly before taking a breath and looking back up at her husband.

“Things don’t always have to be zero sum, you know. I believe rules exist for the spirit of such protocol rather that the strict letter of them. You don’t want to compromise an ongoing investigation, I understand that. So does Miho. But in this case, especially for her -- and I’m not just saying that because she’s my friend; I think she’s proven herself in situations like this --, I think you can maintain the integrity of the investigation while not having to deceive her at the same time. Rules are a dead and static thing, made by humans to serve the needs of a situation. And by the same token, situations can change, and so we can be flexible to adapt while remaining true to overall protocol. It’s not ‘either or’ in this case, Hideki, you must be able to see that. Things need not be robotic; in fact, I think something as dynamic as a complicated investigation is best served by anything but.”

Her look was beseeching as much as it was resolute. She wanted, needed, him to understand that there was more than one alternative, and indeed, a better one existed than what dead, strict rules dictated.

His hand had reached her cheek, his thumb had been lightly grazing the skin as she spoke, but the moment she’d mentioned his way was ‘robotic’, his arm sank back to his side.

“You are operating under the assumption I do not know how to effectively perform my job,” he stated, and indeed, this time he sounded more mechanical, “that I am intentionally wounding Mrs. Goto. Please do not forget our duty is not without risk - risk Lieutenant Goto has always accepted as a necessary evil in the pursuit of people who want to destroy our way of life (writes a presidential speech). Lieutenant Goto’s death will not be in vain provided the integrity of this investigation is not compromised, and in time, Mrs. Goto’s pain will diminish.”

His stoic mask was now firmly affixed, a sure sign to his wife he had been affronted. It was rare he showed anger, whether he felt it or not; it was far more common for him to shut down.

Which is what he did - and before she could speak again he had stepped away.

“I am going to take a shower now,” he asserted.

“Is that part of the fake eulogy you’re going to give?” she threw at his retreating back before she could stop herself, her sarcastic side finding voice in her frustration.

She almost wanted to throw something at the firmly closing bathroom door, but knew it would accomplish nothing but a momentary childish satisfaction of noise to punctuate her ire. She thought she understood her husband enough to get beyond the ‘cyborg’ persona his colleagues often referred to him as, but now she wondered how much she was really able to understand him in the dire situations when she felt she should most.

She bit her lip, and after only a moment’s thought, grabbed her phone to text a quick thanks to Jazz for what she was able to surmise by now. She followed this with a quick text to Miho:

“I believe you. I’m sorry about him.”

Liana didn’t want to go more into it than that, over what was really essentially not that secure a channel. She hoped her friend understood the ‘him’ was her infuriatingly stubborn husband.

Liana stood halfway between the hallway and her bedroom, wondering whether she should get ready for bed or go to Miho to apologize to and try to comfort, and help, her friend. She doubted if she would get much further with Hideki tonight, though a tenacious part of her wanted to try, as well as to make him understand she was not against him, but trying to help him as well as her friend and Lieutenant Goto. Or if it would be more helpful to the situation as a whole to go to discuss things over with her friend. A chime from her phone alerting her to an incoming text helped make up her mind.

“I’m going to need more ice cream.”

It was Jazz, and no doubt Miho had chowed her way through all available potential sources to cool her ire.

“Will hijack an ice cream van and be right over. Preferences?”

“Surprise us.”

While humble had never been easy for Miho, she had much bowing to do when she eventually went home to face Goto’s family. Though difficult, her apologies were sincere, for she had no desire to hurt them or compound their suffering, even if they did not agree with her point of view. A compromise was struck, and though she would not concede her belief that Goto was still alive, she accepted no accord would be met and did not pursue further attempts to convince them the whole funeral thing was a sham.

She resigned herself to being the most supporting daughter and sister she could be, though Issei seemed unsurprisingly angry at her still.

Shinichi, Seiji’s father, would have liked traditional Shinto customs observed, but the circumstances being what they were, there were several steps concerning the corpse that could simply not be performed as one might with a fully intact body.

Still, Miho returned to the Goto family residence out of Tokyo to help in the preparation of food offerings; her only real contribution that all offerings be made at a reasonably cool temperature, the way Seiji would have been able to eat it. But her resolve did not waver.

As the process proceeded toward the wake, she’d had several follow-up conversations with Liana, who had pledged to use her journalistic sources to investigate what current criminal organisations within Japan would have access to highly restricted flammables, despite knowing her husband would not be impressed if he found her meddling. So far, she had come up empty, though several organised crime groups had certainly been more active of late; Liana did not keep this from Miho or Jazz, the latter who was staying in accommodations nearby to continue offering Miho her support.

On the day of the wake, everyone visibly donned the darkness of their grief, and Miho robotically greeted mourners to accept their condolences.

She wanted to shout out how pointless all their words were, their tears, when Seiji was still alive somewhere – not a pile of bones awaiting further cremation – but she kept it buried behind a stoic, if tired mask.

Priests prayed and prayed and prayed, before mourners were fed, but Miho had no appetite. Under Subaru and Jazz’s watchful eyes, she remained quiet, while those who didn’t know her very well at all whispered about how strong the wife of a police officer had to be, how brave she was.

“This is normal, right?” Subaru whispered to Jazz as the pair observed Miho’s blank expression.

Her eyes were directed at the coffin, but there was nothing to see in her gaze at all.

“Miho’s never normal,” Jazz replied just as quietly. “And you know she’s only doing this for Goto’s family; she still won’t believe he’d dead.”

“I guess, maybe I can’t blame her, after that whole thing with her ex-husband’s faked death and all,” Subaru noted, but he was scowling – after all, this was difficult for him too. “But, how long do you think this will last?”

Jazz tilted her head a little as she considered her best friend, then looked up into Subaru’s face.

“I think you know her well enough now,” she said. “If she believes something, no one will sway her.”

“So, what do we do?” he scowled, as people began to line up to say their final farewells.

“We just be here for her, if she needs us,” Jazz shrugged, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. “For her, this isn’t nearly over.”

Shinichi first, Haruka then Issei, then it was Miho’s turn to stand before Goto’s coffin and bid farewell to the man she loved more than her own life.

It seemed silence fell, a thick blanket of tense expectation for those who knew how she felt; but when she spoke it was so softly only the closest ears could have overheard.

“I will never let you go,” she whispered, glaring at the coffin intensely. “And when I find you, I’m going to kick your ass for putting me and your family through this.”

That was his send off, and when all had passed and said their goodbye, the immediate family travelled to the crematorium.

It was ironic – Miho even wanted to laugh at the idea a man reduced to bone would be cooked all over again in the name of tradition – but she managed to hold it in.

Instead, she took some time alone before they all returned to the house, staring across the rows of headstones, of mausoleums.

“Not today,” she grated under her breath, jaw clenched as she was struck with an overwhelming pang of loneliness.

“Mrs. Goto,” Kaga said, clearing his throat. “I was going to congratulate you on whatever you said to unsettle Captain Ishigami,” he continued, his voice low. “But there will be more appropriate times for that.”

Miho hadn’t had as much to do with Kaga as she had Goto’s direct superior, but she knew the man was callous, or clumsy, or a mixture of the two – enough to not be offended by his awkward, misplaced dig at Ishigami.

“Tell me, Captain,” Miho said, her voice thick, her watery eyes fixed on the distance. “Do you believe it? What you’ve seen on your surveillance tapes? What you’ve heard, read in reports? Would Seiji be so incompetent as to fall prey to a death and make his wife a widow?”

For a man rarely at a loss for words, Kaga’s lips parted but no sound emerged. Unusually, he seemed to be thinking carefully before speaking.

“Would Lieutenant Goto intentionally put himself at undue risk?” he rephrased, but Miho intercepted his dodge.

“Not what I asked,” she snapped, inching a little closer to him.

“I am sure of what I observed, and am satisfied with the rigor of our forensic investigators,” he answered slowly, and Miho jumped on his hesitation.

“Damnit, Hyogo, you know what I’m asking!” she barked, giving his chest a bit of a shove, and Kaga snatched her wrist.

This caught the attention of Liana, who was standing nearby with a phone pressed to her ear.

“These are questions for Captain Ishigami,” Kaga told her, lowering his head and his tone.

“He was as slippery as you, and it’s suspicious,” Miho hissed.

“You’re grieving,” he asserted, trying to sound accommodating, maybe even sympathetic. “You’re raw and hurting and wanting all this to be a horrible nightmare, but…”

“I DISBELIEVE!” she snarled, shaking herself free, and several others looked over, including Issei.

“Captain Kaga,” Liana began amiably, as she approached to defuse a true blow-up of the situation.

She had since ended her phone call, and gave the pair her entire focus.

“Please, allow me,” she smiled warmly, slipping her hand into Miho’s.

Not quite with his tail between his legs, but certainly without reluctance, Kaga nodded and shifted away from the two women.

“You just saved him a black eye,” Miho hissed, scuffing her toes in the gravel irritably.

“Just a black eye?” Liana smirked cheekily, and this got Miho to smile wickedly.

“Yeah okay, he might have lost a little more; I’m fed up with getting chided for not being morose enough,” she muttered, allowing Liana to turn her away from the gathering at the shrine.

“Well, I just got off the phone with reliable source,” Liana explained quietly, “who said a known terrorist group on Public Safety’s watchlist called Kurai, had recently been planning a serious attack, but now the group is in chaos - something about an internal power struggle.”

“When?” Miho prompted, giving Liana her full attention.

“That’s what caught my attention,” Liana nodded. “According to my source, an attack targeting shinkansen lines was supposed to happen two days after Goto’s supposed death.”

Miho’s brows drew slowly down, but she wasn’t drawing any major conclusions yet, but the wheels were definitely turning. Liana’s acceptance of Miho’s belief in Goto’s survival was warming, a relief.

“No terrorists though,” Miho noted.

Any disruption to the train network would be big news – a case of terrorism, if it had occurred, would have been all over the news

“So their plans were disturbed,” Miho added, thinking aloud.

“I wasn’t able to get much in terms of specifics,” Liana admitted, “but,” she continued quickly, “Kurai is having a bit of a management crisis, which might explain why their plans fell through.”

“Seiji,” Miho exhaled. “This is totally his doing.”

“Entirely possible,” Liana smiled, but quickly her expression fell. “And if that’s the case, his death, could all be a part of the investigation.”

About that idea, Liana did not look at all impressed.

“I’m going to need to speak to your husband again,” Miho growled, and while Liana would defend Ishigami when he was in the right, she had no issue taking him to task when he was wrong.

“We’re staying here overnight,” Liana revealed. “I’ll give you the hotel address.”

“Spill it,” Miho charged, the moment Liana opened the door of her hotel room.

Stunned, Ishigami blinked at the instant onslaught, but Miho did not even allow him to draw breath.

“He’s not dead, and you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on or…”

“Stop right there, Mrs. Goto,” Ishigami said, emerging from his stupor.

“I will not stop!” she snapped – in his face, teeth bared and savage. “Whatever this is? Terrorists? All of Japan, the world in peril? Because if it’s not, the bullshit you’re putting me, and Seiji’s family through it outrageous and I…”

“You need to calm down,” he tried to reason, but Liana could see the cracks forming in his demeanour.

“Would you? If I told you Liana was dead, tell me you wouldn’t be in my face demanding answers,” Miho pressed, finally stabbing a finger against his chest, and there Ishigami lost his cool.

“That is enough,” he snapped, and even Liana flinched.

Miho’s lips continued to move, but no sound emerged.

After a few tense seconds, Ishigami adjusted his glasses and exhaled a slow sigh.

“Kurai,” Miho prompted, more tempered in tone. “Seiji infiltrated them, didn’t he?”

Walking to the window, Ishigami sighed again.

“Yes,” Ishigami admitted, softly. “And… his death… is essential to not only the success of the operation, but to his survival because…”

Hanging off his every word, Miho leaned forward; Ishigami turned back to the room and pair of expectant gazes, his own serious.

“There is a mole in Public Safety.”

“Who?” Miho blurted.

“If I knew that, all this would not be necessary,” Ishigami grumbled, fiddling with his glasses again. “The only way to protect him and his contact within Kurai, is to convince everyone in Public Safety he is no longer in play.”

“So… who does know he’s alive?” Liana asked.

“Myself, Chief Namba, and now the two of you, against my better judgement,” he answered wearily. “Though I must say, I am immensely relieved to have brought your suffering to an end.”

“I’d still be livid if I didn’t know you genuinely did this to protect Seiji,” Miho nodded slowly. “But am still pissed off you didn’t think me capable of feigning grief.”

“This is a case of substantial import,” Ishigami insisted. “Telling anyone what you have learned could not only destroy our chances of bringing down Kurai, but lead to catastrophic infrastructure damage and death.”

“I got it,” Miho huffed, running her fingers through her hair in a frustrated manner, before reaffixing her gaze on him.

Softer.

Beseeching.

“Have you had contact with him?” she asked, voice so much smaller. “Is he injured?”

“Not… recently, no,” he admitted, motioning for her to sit.

She complied.

“But his last communication was directly to my private number informing me of his status – unharmed – a brief situational report, and his strong suspicion he and his contact had been compromised by a mole in Public Safety.”

It wasn’t until a cup of tea appeared before her, that Miho realised Liana had snuck away. With a small smile, Miho accepted the offering.

“So, what do you do now?” she frowned, before blowing softly against the rim of her mug.

“Well,” Ishigami began again, moving to also sit. “I will have to inform Chief Namba that you’re now aware of the situation. He will probably wish to speak to you himself.”

Though Chief of Public Safety, when Miho followed Ishigami into Namba’s office, the broad-shouldered looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“So, where do you want it, Jin?” she dropped, flat and cold and staring daggers.

“Excuse me?” Namba blinked, looking from Miho to his subordinate.

“I believe she means to hit you,” Ishigami translated, and Namba’s brows twitched.

“Hit is the polite translation,” Miho snorted, pointing at him sharply. “I get your need for secrecy, but all this is bullshit – I should have been told.”

“Ah,” he nodded, shifting a little before his fingers knitted together before him.

“No doubt Captain Ishigami has now explained the seriousness of the situation?”

At this, it was Ishigami’s turn to squirm a little.

“I think we both know, Mrs. Goto is not one to let something go once she has sunk her teeth into it,” he said, then wished he’d used different phrasing when Miho bared her teeth.

“You knew marrying a skilled undercover agent could result in time apart,” Namba explained. “And that strict rules of confidentiality would prevent you from knowing the details of his missions.”

This was true, but in Miho’s mind, what they had done to her and the rest of Goto’s family was way beyond that.

“You killed me,” she asserted, tone low and dangerous as she leaned forward across his desk. “You carved out my heart, and you set it beside the heart of his mother, and father and brother…”

“For Lieutenant Goto’s safety,” Namba insisted.

“And that’s the only reason I haven’t crawled over this desk and ripped out your throat,” she growled, at which point, Ishigami did the brave thing and put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

“That is quite enough,” he told her firmly. “We are all sorry for the pain you have experienced, but as I said earlier, the greater good was, is served by the continuing secrecy of Goto’s mission.”

Surprisingly, Miho didn’t throw his hand off. In fact, she straightened and let out a long breath to balance herself before resettling her gaze on Namba.

“So, I suppose you want to get him home,” he then said, a sparkle lighting up his eyes. “And since you no doubt know most of what’s going on - if I’m right about your interrogation abilities – I have an idea of just how you can help do that.”

“Sir?” Ishigami frowned, but Namba held his hand up.

“If it was to become known in Public Safety circles, that you had received a missive from Lieutenant Goto prior to his death, and that you felt it necessary to take action upon that information…”

“That could draw the mole out to ensure what I fictionally know doesn’t reveal their identity,” Miho finished thoughtfully, already nodded.

Ishigami, meanwhile, was not.

“I am very much against this,” he declared. “Involving Mrs. Goto in this investigation is…”

“A brilliant idea,” Miho interrupted.

“Irresponsible,” Ishigami corrected. “A traitor in our midst willing to put the safety of the public and his or her colleagues at risk, in the firing line of the Kurai, is not someone against whom a civilian should be pitted. I should also think Lieutenant Goto would not want his wife put in undue danger.”

“Lieutenant Goto knows better than to tell me what I can and cannot do,” Miho sniffed, then flashed a nasty grin toward Namba. “Flush that son of a bitch in my direction, Chief.”

“Chief Namba,” Ishigami said, as serious as he may have ever been. “I will go on record with my disagreement; Mrs. Goto should not be any further involved in this!”

For a few seconds following the rise of his voice, the two others looked at him a little surprised.

“You don’t want me in danger, I get it,” Miho told him finally, her expression softening a little. “But Seiji can’t come home until the mole is revealed, and this will work. I doubt Chief Namba has a mind to strip me naked, tie a bow around my neck and shout-out to all potential traitors to come have a poke.”

Both men immediately blushed.

Like, fires of hell heat in their cheeks you could see in pitch black.

“For crying out loud, you’re both grown men,” she huffed. “The point is, I’m not signing up to die, but to be very well guarded bait. Do you have people who are above reproach? Kurosawa, surely,” Miho answered, before they could. “He idolises Seiji. There’s no way he would do anything to put him in danger.”

“Soma and Kaga,” Namba put in, though at the last name, Ishigami’s nose wrinkled.

“I’m not so sure about the last,” he declared.

“Leave him out then… Subaru… call Subaru in. He would never let anything happen to me.”

“He may well have a few things to say in opposition,” Ishigami added.

“Then he can stow it too,” Miho huffed. “Chief Namba, will you set this up?”

With only a few seconds hesitation, Namba nodded his assent, and Miho exhaled.

“I’ll wait for your instructions,” she sighed. “Whatever it is you need me to do, I will, don’t question that for a second.”

“I don’t think anyone would dare,” he noted, and there concluded the meeting.

It was in silence Miho drove through dim backstreets two nights later, though Kurosawa prattled unnecessary reassurances in her ears through her tiny earbud radio.

“I’m fine, Toru,” she muttered for the seventh time. “It’s like the Chief said - the mole won’t hurt me until he or she is sure the information that might incriminate them cannot fall into the hands of any authority.”

“Still,” he grumbled, in his place of hiding near Miho’s destination. “I feel ill thinking you may be at the mercy of this unscrupulous creature.”

“Shut up, Kurosawa,” Kaga snapped. “Keep comms clear.”

And for once, Miho was glad to hear the acid of Kaga’s voice.

“Don’t worry your heads about this,” Miho told them. “This idiot won’t know what hit ‘em.”

She was early, as was part of the plan, and so was Namba, who she was there to meet and pass on the package she had only just received - presumably sent on the day of Goto’s death.

It had to be somewhere quiet, somewhere other people would not get involved should violence break out, and despite her bravado, Miho actually shuddered a little at the gloom of the dockside warehouse. No one in sight, no one to catch stray bullets, except for the small group of instructors Namba had enlisted for the operation.

Her steps sounded loudly against the moist asphalt, bouncing off concrete walls and worn, metal shipping containers. Slowly, she made her way around the building toward a single door, trepidation growing, twisting knots in her stomach she obstinately refused to show in her expression.

“That’s quite far enough,” a raspy, gravelly voice asserted, and Miho flinched then froze.

The kind of voice that did far too much yelling.

“Chief?” she queried, though she knew it wasn’t him.

“We have contact,” Namba’s voice hissed in Miho’s ear.

“I should be,” the man’s voice came again, oblivious to the voices in Miho’s head.

Slowly, she hazarded to turn her head.

The outline was average except perhaps for the hair, messy waves of ink from crown to shoulders in a decidedly unkempt manner.

“Instructor Nagita?” Miho blinked, mostly for the benefit of the others in case they did not have a clear enough line of sight. “I am supposed to be meeting Chief Namba here. Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

Playing dumb was not Miho’s strong suit, but she tried just the same.

It was then he pulled out a gun - not how Miho would have played it given she’d just given him the opportunity to play along, but anyone who picked a fight with Goto and his people couldn’t really be considered smart.

“Don’t play ignorant with me! Give me the contents of the package Goto sent you,” he demanded roughly, inching a little closer to her, and Miho shuffled back a little, away from the warehouse wall.

“I will shoot you,” he insisted, waving the firearm a little erratically, before a gunshot rang out.

Miho’s breath stalled, her chest clenched and her gaze fixed on the slumping figure of Nagita, who a few seconds later was face down. Trembling, Miho touched her hand to her cheek - wet, warm, fresh blood transferred to her fingers.

“What…?” she stammered out, as a new form stepped from the shadows and claimed responsibility for Nagita’s murder.

“Is that… Chiba?” Soma said through comms.

“The student?” Subaru sought in clarification. “We should move now!”

“Hold,” Namba instructed. “If there are even students involved in this, we don’t know who else may be involved.”

“That student just killed an instructor,” Subaru pointed out. “You think he’s going to hesitate to kill Miho?”

“It’s fine, okay?” Miho breathed, holding both her hands up in front of her. “Just… relax.”

“Kurai knew Nagita didn’t have the guts to follow through,” Chiba announced, his voice contrastingly soft and boyish considering the situation. “But this is my way out of mediocrity, out of obscurity. No one will ever overlook me again.”

“Keep him talking, Mrs. Goto,” Ishigami encouraged. “We’re converging on your position.”

“Well, I think I can say,” Miho began carefully. “If I had met you, before now, I would not have overlooked you… and if I knew your name…?”

“Chiba Daisuke,” he announced proudly - obviously not a seasoned criminal even with fresh blood on his hands.

“And, Mr. Chiba, you ah… you’re working for Kurai then? An enforcer by the looks of it - it looks good on you.”

“Not for, with,” he corrected.

“Oh, obviously,” Miho rushed. “Man of your bearing, I suppose, takes orders from no one… right?”

“Including you, Mrs. Goto,” he smiled, so innocently it seemed so ridiculous he held her at gun-point. “It’s a shame, because I actually liked Instructor Goto…”

“He’s gearing up to kill her too, I’m moving in!” Subaru barked.

“... but,” Chiba continued. “I can’t allow you to blow my cover, so I’m going to have to…”

“FREEZE!” Ishigami shouted, appearing dramatically, and simultaneously Miho let out a squeak as Subaru snatched her around the waist and put himself between her and Chiba.

“Don’t move!” Kaga added, emerging with Soma, their own guns drawn.

“Reach for the sky, scumbag!” Kurosawa exclaimed, and no doubt they all would have facepalmed were the circumstances not so serious.

“It’s over, Chiba,” Namba told him, and indeed, Chiba was now surrounded. “Put down the gun so no one else gets hurt.”

“Get her out of here,” Ishigami commanded of Subaru, and he did not have to be asked twice.

“Hold it!” Chiba barked, uncharacteristically sharp. “Move and I’ll shoot!”

“And in which universe do you think you’ll walk away from this if you do?” Kaga scoffed. “You fire, we fire, and you’re dead.”

“I… I’ll still take one of you with me,” Chiba declared, no longer sounding so confident, his gun hand wavering a little.

In a dramatic crash that blocked Miho and Subaru from Chiba’s line of sight, the door Miho had earlier been heading for opened, and a body tackled the murderous student.

The gun skidded across the ground and was quickly scooped up by Soma, while the others jumped in to restrain the young man.

“Come on,” Subaru urged, but Miho would not be moved, transfixed on the fray of arms and legs.

And she gasped when Chiba was dragged to his feet and cuffed, because with order restored, Miho could see who it was that had intervened.

“The hell are you going here?” Subaru growled, glaring at the man.

“Did you really think I was going to allow you to put my wife in such danger and not oversee her safety myself?” Goto huffed, straightening his clothes.

But his eyes looked beyond his friend to Miho’s blood speckled face, her tear-brimming, lip-quivering expression that broke his heart all over again.

“Get going, dead-man,” Kaga snorted curtly. “You can’t be here.”

“Seiji,” Miho whispered thickly, fighting Subaru’s grip on her unsuccessfully.

“Go!” Subaru growled, grappling Miho as she struggled. “I’ll take care of her.”

“I’ll take care of you if you don’t let me GO!” Miho shrieked, a wildcat now, flailing.

With a broken look, Goto began to back away, mouthing one word before he turned and ran.

“Soon.”

The aftermath dragged on well through the night and into the morning, and at nine Miho was sitting on the couch in Ishigami’s office - still pouting.

“Looks like you could use this,” Kaga declared, dropping a steaming mug of coffee into Miho’s line of sight.

Her eyes rolled up to look at him skeptically.

“If Ishigami sees you in here, you’re toast,” she declared, reaching for the mug… which he then moved out of her reach. “Do that again and you won’t need to worry about him.”

“Oh yeah?” Kaga smirked, holding his ground. “Right now, I could take you with just my little finger.”

“I suggest you keep you little finger, and all other appendages, away from Mrs. Goto,” Ishigami said coldly from the doorway, and Miho used the opportunity to relieve Kaga of the mug. “And remove yourself from my office.”

“So you can move in on her instead? You’ve got no chance, four-eyes,” Kaga dropped, shoving past him on the way out.

Silence settled in the wake of his exit, until Miho sat back down.

“How are you holding up?” Ishigami asked carefully.

“Still mad,” she replied waspishly. “You could have given me a minute with him.”

“As I said before, every moment he breaks cover is a chance for Kurai to discover his deception,” he pointed out, and not for the first time.

Noisily, Miho slurped her coffee.

“A counsellor from the Department will be in contact in the next few days.”

“I don’t need counselling, Ishigami,” Miho grumped. “I need my hus…”

“... husband back, yes I understand,” he filled in, nodding. “And I am sure he feels as anxious for this operation to be as over as you.”

To this, Miho grunted, sculled the rest of the coffee - ignoring the burn - and rolled her neck.

“I’m going home,” she announced.

“Ichiyanagi will drive you,” he informed her. “Chief Namba and I agree you should have protection until such time as the Kurai are neutralised, just in case they…”

“No,” she disagreed.

“I’m actually not giving you a choice,” Ishigami retorted, finally putting his foot down. “You insisted on involving yourself, and now you will put up with the consequences.”

Her jaw worked, but she wasn’t so unreasonable that she wouldn’t accept responsibility for her own actions.

“Fine, I’m leaving now,” she grumped, grabbed her bag, and stalked out.

“So, you’re not going to talk to me forever now?” Subaru sniffed, following Miho up the path to her front door.

Of course - to prove the point - Miho did not respond.

As she slipped the key into the lock, barking greeted her, and she had to grit her teeth not to allow exhausted tears to spill. Ishigami and Kaga bounced up against her the moment she cleared the door, and she gladly sat on the floor to let the greyhound wiggling soothe her weary heart.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Subaru said, walking past the tangle unscathed while Miho snuggled her face against soft, sleek doggy heads.

“Daddy will be home soon,” she whispered to her ‘kids’, before struggling back up.

She needed sleep.

A week ticked by.

Then another.

And while the longing to see Goto never waned, Miho had rather gotten used to having a house-maid-chauffeur-butler-heavy-lifter-emergency-tampon-buying dog-walker. Still, she craved a little alone time, and hatched a plan to give Subaru the slip.

Ishigami and Kaga, complicit in her crime, ran happily beside her as she snuck out through her back yard’s fence. When she had taken enough twists and turns to ensure even a seasoned tracker would have trouble picking up her trail, she headed for somewhere her poochies could play and she could relax.

Even though the weather was cooling, Miho was determined to sit on a very significant patch of grass in the park where it all started. The greyhounds ran laps around her as she ruminated. She pictured the picnic rug upon which they had laid that first ‘test drive’, smiled as she remembered how uptight he’d been in the beginning, how awkward - then grinned when she recalled how he’d surprised her in the bushes.

Heavily, she dragged herself up and headed toward the toilet block, just as she had that day; but she was disappointed when there was no Goto to drag her out of sight and defile her in the best possible way.

“Fuck,” she growled, her mood darkening.

“I’d better do something about this frustration of yours,” a familiar voice said at her back, causing Miho to freeze. “Or you might fall into the arms of that apron wearing hooligan.”

Miho trapped the air in her lungs, afraid that if she drew breath he would disappear; but at the same time, she had to know.

“You’re not going to run away again, are you?” she gasped out, and though she longed to throw herself at him, her body was paralysed.

“I”m sorry I had to do that, Miho,” he apologised, face patterned with profound contrition. “But I’m here now, because I couldn’t stand it anymore. Even if the Kurai kill me tomorrow, it’ll have been worth it.”

In the background, Ishigami and Kaga bounded around the park, amusing themselves, but everything that wasn’t Goto faded from Miho’s world. When his arms closed around her, she drew in a deep breath, filling her senses with the scent of him. Every fibre of her being sang out in joy and relief, and her muscles turned mush.

“If they hurt you,” she whimpered against his neck, finally locking him in her own embrace, “I will burn Tokyo to the ground until every last one of them is destroyed.”

“I believe it,” he laughed, tightening his grip.

Nothing felt as good to him, as having her heart beating against his chest.

“Come on,” he urged, pulling away far enough to walk without stumbling, tugging her toward the bushes.

“Uhh, Ishigami and Kaga will wonder where I am,” she exhaled, but in all honesty it was amazing she could form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences.

“I should never have let you name them that,” Goto hissed, pressing her back against a familiar tree trunk and slithering his fingers beneath her jacket.

“It was… Kurosawa,” Miho protested weakly, coiling her arms around his neck and dragging her fingernails through his hair.

“Stop saying other men’s names,” he growled against her throat, nipping it enough to cause Miho to squirm, sharp little stings giving way to tingling warmth and pleasure. “I have missed the taste of you.”

“I’ve missed being tasted,” she sighed, directing his face back to hers. “I’ve missed you.”

“And I you,” he smiled, straightening her dishevelled jacket and taking her face either side. “Nothing is so precious to me.”

A little confused they were both still fully dressed, Miho frowned, despite his declaration.

“But you’re not done yet, are you?” she forced out, the quietest of squeaks.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, resting his forehead against hers, brushing her moist cheeks with his thumbs. “If I don’t finish this, many people will be in danger, including you - so I have to see this out.”

She knew he wouldn’t abandon his job, his responsibility to the people he vowed to protect, the law he vowed to uphold - that was the man she loved and married.

“But,” he continued, even as Miho wept, “when it’s over, I’m going to request full time assignment at the academy, no more undercover.”

“Ohh,” she exhaled, lightly nuzzling her nose against his. “But you would miss it, Lieutenant Goto, it’s as much a part of you as I am… just… promise…”

“Anything,” he pledged. “Absolutely anything.”

“Never die again,” she pouted, pecking his lips with desperate, quick kisses.

“Miho…”

“You said anything!” she pointed out smugly, rubbing herself against him, trying to make it as difficult for him to leave her as possible.

“Mmm,” he groaned. “Then I suppose I’ll have to live forever. But for now, I have to go.”

When he kissed her now, it was a kiss designed to convince her, once and for all, if any doubt lingered, that he was alive and hers. He would return to her safely, and they would be happy.

The joyful, hysterical bark-whining of Ishigami and Kaga, slammed into the moment, as surely as the dog slammed into the back of Goto’s legs. They proceeded to bounce energetically until he crouched, and then they clambered up his body, over his shoulders, his back, his chest, licking all the while.

“Come on kids,” Miho sniffled, untucking their leashes from her belt-loop and clicked each to their collars. “Let Daddy get back to work so he can come home to us.”

It took some serious strength to drag the dogs away from Goto, and it was with reluctance that he stepped back.

“And I will come home to you: soon.”

#miho fujiwara #seiji goto #hideki ishigami #kaga #soma #kurosawa #kurai #hlitf #hlitf fanfic #namba #burn all of tokyo #dog-babies

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