#seriously this question actually delighted me while i was trying to work on the gun kink. and this meet cute prompt.

[elvisabutler]

would you ever do a olivia x austin x reader fic??? like smut perhaps

anon, my dear sweet delightful anon. the question is not would i because trust me i would write the hell out of it. i literally love threesomes and poly fics and have for my entire fandom life ( seriously, y'all don't know it but that was my speciality back in some of my old fandoms ).

the question is who's gonna ask me to write it and give me a jumping off point of a prompt so i can focus my energy beyond i want to write olivia and austin boning each other while also boning you because we all secretly want to be in that pretty person sandwich.

so yeah, i'd write them as smut. as fluff as angst. i'm nothing if not flexible.

[unpopularwiththepopulace]

Michael Riedel vs Bernadette Peters – the Broadway Battle of 2003 and beyond

My previous piece gives a fairly comprehensive look at Bernadette and Gypsy through the ages; though there is at least one aspect of the 2003 revival that warrants further discussion:

Namely, Michael Riedel.

Today’s essay question then: “Riedel – gossip columnist extraordinaire, the “Butcher of Broadway”, spited male vindictive over not getting a lunch date with Bernadette Peters, or puppet-like mouthpiece of theatre’s shadowed elite? Discuss.”

It’s matter retrievable in print, or even kept alive in apocryphal memory throughout the theatre community to this day that Riedel was responsible for a campaign of unrelenting and caustic defamation against Bernadette as Rose in Gypsy around the 2003 season.

While “tabloids may [have been] sniping and the Internet chat rooms chirping”, when looking back at the minutiae, none were more vocal, prolific or influential in colouring early judgment than the “chief vulture [of] Mr. Riedel, who had written a string of vitriolic columns in which he said from the start that Ms. Peters was miscast”.

He continued to find other complaints and regularly attack her in print over an extended period of time.

Why? We’ll get there. There are a few theories to suggest. Firstly, how and what.

Primary to establish is that it perhaps would be foolish to expect anything else of Riedel.

Also an author and radio and TV show host, Riedel is best known as the “vituperative and compulsively readable” theatre columnist at The New York Post.

He’s a man who thrives on controversy, decrying: “Gossip is life!”

The man who says, “I’m a wimp when it comes to physical violence, but give me a keyboard and I’ll kill ya.”

“Inflicting pain, for him, is a jokey thing. ‘Michael has this cruel streak and a lack of empathy,’ says Susan Haskins, his close friend and co-host.”

And inflicting pain is what he did with Bernadette, in a saga that has become one of the most talked about and enduring moments of his career.

From the beginning, then.

Riedel started work at The Post in 1998.

His first words on Bernadette? “Oddly miscast in the Ethel Merman role,” in August of that year on Annie Get Your Gun. It was a sentiment he would carry across to his second mention six months later (“a seemingly odd choice to play the robust Annie Oakley”), and also across to the heart of his vitriolic coverage on her next Merman role in Gypsy.

 Negative coverage on Bernadette in Gypsy started in August 2002 when Riedel discussed the search for trying to find a new American producer for the show. It had initially been reported in late 2000 that a Gypsy revival with Bernadette was planned for London, before it was to transfer to Broadway. To begin with, Arthur Laurents was “eager to do Gypsy in London because it hadn't been seen in the West End since 1973”, and he “wanted to repeat [the] dreamlike triumph” he said Angela Lansbury’s production had been. But economic matters prevented this original plan, leaving the team looking for new producers in the US. Riedel suggested that Fran and Barry Wiessler step up as, “after all, they managed to sell the hell out of "Annie Get Your Gun," in which Peters…was also woefully miscast.”

He also quipped: “Industry joke: "Bernadette Peters in 'Gypsy'? Isn't she a little old to be playing Baby June?”, calling her “cutesy Peters” and again a “kewpie doll”.

Bernadette here seen side by side with the actual Baby June of the 2003 production – Kate Reinders.

Other publications to this point had discussed her “unusual” casting. Which was fairly self-evident. In contrast to being a surprising revelation that Bernadette Peters was not, in fact, Ethel Merman, this had been the intention from the start. Librettist Arthur “Laurents – whose idea it was to hire her – [said] going against type is exactly the point,” and Sam Mendes, as director, qualified “the tradition of battle axes in that role has been explored”.

It was Riedel who was the first to shift the focus from the obvious point that she was ‘differently cast’, to instead attach the negative prefix and intone that she was actually ‘MIS’ cast. According to him then, she was unsuitable, and would be unable to “carry the show, dramatically or vocally”. All before she had so much as sung a note or donned a stitch of her costume.

So no, it wasn’t then “the perception, widely held within the theater industry,” as he presented it, “that Peters is woefully miscast as Mama Rose”.

It was Riedel’s perception. And he took it, and ran with it, along with whatever else he could throw into the mix to drag both her and the show down for the next two years.

 As to another indication of how one single columnist can influence opinion and warp wider perception, just look to Riedel’s assessment of the show’s first preview. It is typically known as Riedel’s forte to “[break] with Broadway convention, [where] he attends the first night of previews, and reports on the problems…before the critics have their say”. This gives him “clout” by way of mining “terrain that goes relatively uncovered elsewhere”, and it means subsequent journals are frequently looking to him from whom to take their lead – and quotes.

At Gypsy’s opening preview then, he reported visions of “Arthur Laurents [charging] up the aisle…on fire”, loudly and vocally expressing his dissatisfaction with the show as he then “read Fox [a producer] the riot act”. Despite the fact that this was “not true, according to Laurents,” the damage was already done, with the sentiment of trouble and tension being subsequently reprinted and distributed out to the public across many a regional paper.

News travels fast, bad news travels faster.

 And news can be created at an ample rate, when in possession of one’s own regular periodical column. This recurring domain allowed plentiful opportunity for attack on Bernadette and Gypsy, and Riedel “began devoting nearly every column to the subject,” which amounted to weekly or even more frequent references.

As the show progressed beyond its first preview, Riedel brought in the next aspects of his smear-campaign – assailing Bernadette for missing performances through illness and accusing Ben Brantley, who reviewed the show positively in The New York Times, of unfair favouritism and “hyperbolic spin”.

The issue is not that Bernadette was not in fact ill or missing performances. She was. She had a diagnosis at first of “a cold and vocal strain”, that then progressed more seriously to a “respiratory infection” the following week, and was “told by her doctors that she needs to rest”. So rest she did.

The issue is the way in which Riedel depicted the situation and her absences via hyperbole and “insinuating she was shirking” responsibility. He went further than continual, repeated mentions and cruel article titles like “wilted Rose”, or “sick Rose losing bloom”, or “beloved but - ahem-cough-cough-ahem - vocally challenged and miscast star”. He went as far as the sensationalist and degrading action of putting “Peters' face on the side of a milk carton, the kind of advertisement typically used to recover lost children,” and asking readers to look out for “bee-stung lips, [a] high-pitched voice, [and a] kewpie doll figure”, who “may be clutching a box of tissues and a love letter from Ben Brantley”.

It was quantified in May of 2003 after the show had officially opened, that “out of the 39 performances "Gypsy" has played so far, [Bernadette] has missed six – an absence rate of 15 percent.”

As an interesting comparison, it was reported in The Times in February 2002 that “‘The Producers' stars Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick have performed together only eight times in last 43 performances due to scheduling problems and health concerns,” – an absence rate of 81%.

Did Riedel have anything nearly as ardent to say about the main male stars of the previous season’s hit missing such a rate of performances? Of course not.

 Riedel arguably has a disproportionate rate for criticising female divas.

One need only heed his recommendations that certain women check into his illuminatingly named “Rosie's Rest Home for Broadway Divas.” Divos need not apply.

Not that he was unaware of this.

In 2004, Riedel would jovially lay out that “Liz Smith and I have developed a nice tag-team act: I bash fragile Broadway leading ladies who miss performances, and she rides to their rescue.”

Donna Murphy was the recipient of what he that year dubbed his “BERNADETTE PETERS ATTENDANCE AWARD”, when she began missing performances in “Wonderful Town”, due to “severe back and neck injuries and a series of colds and sinus infections”.

This speaks to his remarkably cavalier and joyful attitude with which he tears down shows and performers. “The more Mr. Riedel's work upsets people, the more he enjoys it.”

He knows he yields influence – it was recognised he had “eclipsed Ben Brantley as the single most discussed element in marketing meetings for Broadway shows” – and he delights in his capacity to lead shows to premature demises through his poison-tipped quill yielding.

When it was reported Gypsy would be closing earlier than had been planned, he made mention of “hop[ping] around on [its] grave” and debonairly applauding himself, “I suppose I can take some credit for bringing it down”.

 His premonition from the previous year’s Tony’s ceremony was both ominous and prescient, when he predicted the show’s failure to win any awards “could spell trouble at the box office”. He was right. It did. The 8.5 million dollar revival closed months before anticipated and failed to return a profit.

Multiple factors can be attributed to Gypsy’s poor success at the Tony’s, but it’s clear to say Riedel’s continual bashing leading up to the fated night throughout the voting period certainly didn’t help matters.

His suggestions to do with Bernadette’s performances were not helpful either.

After alleging Laurents as the director of the 1991 revival “practically beat a performance out of” Tyne Daly when she was struggling with the role, he proffers that to improve Bernadette’s success, “it may be time for [Laurents] to take up the switch and thrash one out of Peters”.

Great.

It was irresponsible and unrelenting commentary that did not go unnoticed.

His “ruthless heckling of beloved Broadway star Ms. Peters” was deemed in print “his most egregious stunt so far”.

Vividly, in person, Riedel was accosted at a party one night by Floria Lasky, the venerable showbiz lawyer, who “grab[bed] Riedel’s tie and jerk[ed] it, nooselike, scolding, ‘It was unfair, what you did to Bernadette’”.

Moreover, the wide-reaching influential hold Riedel occupied over the environment surrounding Gypsy was tangible in the fact his words spread beyond just average readers, and even unusually “started seeping into the reviews of New York's top critics”. Riedel himself, as the “chief vulture”, was indeed what Ben Brantley was referring to in his own New York Times review by stating how the production was “shadowed by vultures predicting disaster”.

Even more substantially, the “whole Peters-Riedel-Brantley episode” became its own enduring cultural reference – being converted into its very own “satiric cabaret piece, ‘Bernadette and the Butcher of Broadway’”. All three parties were featured, with Riedel characterised as the butcher, and it played Off-Broadway later in 2003 “to positive notices”.

 But penitent for his sins and begging for absolution Riedel was not. “Riedel saw nothing but a great story and a great time,” and for many years after, he would continue to hark back to the matter in self-referential (almost reverential) and flippant ways.

In 2008 as Patti LuPone won her Tony for her turn as Rose in the subsequent revival, Riedel couldn’t help but jibe, “Not to rip open an old wound, but I'd love to know if Bernadette Peters was watching”. (He neglects also to mention that “Mendes’s Gypsy was seen by 100,000 more people than saw Laurents’s and grossed $6 million more”.)

More jibes are to be found in 2012 as he reported on the auction after Arthur Laurents’ funeral, or even as recently in 2019, as he asked, “Remember the outcry that greeted Sam Mendes’ Brechtian “Gypsy,” with Bernadette Peters, in 2003?”

As with in 2004 where he points to the “pack of jackals who have been snarling” about Bernadette’s failures, this brings up the canny knack Riedel has of offloading his views to bigger and detached third party sources – thus absolving himself of personal centrality, and thus culpability.

If there was an outcry, HE was its loudest contributor. If there were snarling jackals, HE was their leader.

Maybe Riedel’s third person detached approach to referencing matters was intended to be a humorous stylistic quirk for those in the know. Or maybe it was his way of expressing some inner turmoil over the event.

In some rare display of morality and emotional authenticity, Riedel would at one point admit “I find it kind of sad and pathetic that the high point of my life supposedly has been about beating up on Bernadette Peters”.

Fortunately for him then, a degree of absolution was eventually achieved in 2018, where Riedel visited Bernadette at her opening night in Hello Dolly in 2018, with the intention of ending their “15-year feud”. He “got down on one knee at Sardi’s and extended his hand,” with Bernadette reportedly yelling “Take a picture!” while he held his deferential and obsequious position on the floor.

So if eventually this “feud” has some kind of circular resolution and Riedel was glad it was over, why on earth did it begin in the first place?

One notion is that it was simply another day on the job. Riedel is a man who sees Broadway as “a game for rich people”. Positioned as an “an industry that brought in $720.9 million in the 2002-2003 season”, it is “not a fragile business”, he remarked. As such, he “[could not] fathom the point of donning kid gloves” in covering it, and reasoned the business as a whole was robust enough to weather a few hard knocks. “Thus, Riedel can coolly view Bernadette Peters as fair game, as opposed to, say, a national treasure”.

More to the point, he was a man in search of words. During the season in question, Riedel was “one of just three New York newspaper columnists covering the stage” – a “throwback to a bygone era when…Broadway gossipmeisters…such as Walter Winchell and Dorothy Kilgallen ruled”. Now at the time, as the “last of a great tabloid tradition”, Riedel presided over not just one but two columns a week at The Post. As a result, he was in need of content. “One of the reasons I've become more opinionated is I just have more space to fill,” he admitted. Robert Simonson hypothesises in his book ‘On Broadway Men, Still Wear Hats’ that Riedel may have consequently picked “the thrashing of Bernadette” as his main target simply because “it was a slow news cycle”. Options for ‘titillating’ and durable content were scarce elsewhere that season.

And after all, if Riedel would later cite Bernadette in an article concerning the Top 10 Powerhouses of Broadway in 2004, saying even despite a few knocks or bad shows, “she’ll bounce back” – surely there was no real damage done.

If her career wouldn’t be toppled by his continual public defamation and haranguing, what was the harm?

Feelings? Who cares about feelings or Bernadette’s extremely complex and personal history with the show stretching back to when she was a teenager.

It was just part of the territory, there was nothing personal in it.

 Or was there?

Maybe there was something personal in Riedel’s campaign after all.

He makes a curious comment while discussing ‘A Raisin in the Sun’ in 2004. The then incoming star of the show, rapper P. Diddy, had invited Riedel to dinner, and he makes judgement that this was “a smart p.r. move”. Then he ponders, “you do have to wonder: If Bernadette Peters had broken bread with me this time last year, would her chorus boys have to be out there now working the TKTS line to keep "Gypsy" afloat?”

Might he be going as far to suggest that if Bernadette had indulged him in a meal, her show might not have suffered so, by way of him being more inclined to cover it with greater lenience?

It may seem that way, at least in considering how Riedel reviewed P. Diddy’s performance thus after their dinner: “Riedel pronounced himself impressed. ‘He could have forgotten his lines or had to be carried offstage. He didn’t do anything terrible, he didn’t do anything astonishing.’”

Seemingly all the rapper had to do was remember some words and remain physically onstage, and he sails through scot-free. That’s a rather different outcome, one could say, to being absolutely eviscerated for what became a Tony nominated effort at one of the appreciably hardest and most demanding musical theatre roles in existence.

Though perhaps it’s hard to tell if that was really his insinuation from just one isolated comment pertaining to lunch.

This argument might be fine, if it WAS the only isolated comment pertaining to wanting Bernadette to have lunch with him. But it isn’t. Riedel continues to make a further two references over protracted periods of time to the fact Bernadette hasn’t dined with him.

One begins to get the sense of him feeling desiring of or somewhat entitled to such a private lunch with the lady he’s verbally decimated for years, and a sense of bitter rejection that he hasn’t been granted one.

“If Tonya Pinkins doesn't win the Tony Award this year, I'll buy Bernadette Peters lunch,” he simpered, and later, “I invite Bernadette to be my guest for lunch at a restaurant of her choosing. She can reach me at The Post anytime she's hungry”.

The embittered columnist in this light takes on now the marred tinge of a small boy in the playground who doesn’t get to hold the hand of the girl he wants in front of his friends, so spends the next three years pushing her over in the sandpit in revenge.

Moreover, the last statement makes undeniable comment on Bernadette’s troubled relationship with food, body image and public eating.

So now not only so far has he insulted and mocked her physical appearance and played into all the usual trite shots calling her a “kewpie doll”; suggested Arthur Laurents violently hit her in order to elicit a better performance; continually publicly harassed her regarding a show that strikes close to the nerve with deep personal and psychological resonances due to her mother and childhood; but now he’s going for the low-blows of ridiculing her over her eating habits.

Flawless behaviour.

 Maybe it’s far-fetched to suggest a man would have such a fragile ego to run a multi-year public defamation campaign after so little as not getting his hypothesised fantasy of a personal lunch date. But then again, this was the man who “left Johns Hopkins University after his first year because of a broken heart.” (“I was in love with her; she wasn't in love with me,” he said.)

And also the man described as “an insomniac who pops the occasional Ambien,” living in a “small one-bedroom” that is “single-guy sloppy”, who has “been living alone since a four-year romance ended in 1996”.

The man whose own best friend called “cruel” and with a “lack of empathy”.

The man whose own sister answered that “well, yes,” he’s always been mean; and after being picked on as a kid for “being the small guy and the intellectual”, he grew dependent on using “his verbal ability to beat someone” and put himself in positions of defensive impenetrability.

See, writing Riedel-esque, vindictive and provocative conjecture is no especially challenging or cerebral task.

Riedel may well see his approach to ‘journalism’ or reporting as “all fun and games”.

But I for one am not laughing.

 One final aspect to address when considering Riedel’s reasoning for the depth of his coverage on Bernadette demands attention of how he gets his information. His own personal opinions and motivations aside, crucially he depends on insider providers for insider details. Perhaps somewhat alarmingly then, “leading Broadway producers themselves are among his sources”.

“Half of Broadway hates him. The other half leaks to him”, John Heilpern titled his 2012 Vanity Fair profile on Riedel.

As such, in frequently taking his lead from “theater folk, usually with an ax to grind”, Riedel acts as the mouthpiece to bring secretive backstage reports out front. High-up, influential characters are thus able to funnel their agendas into public view, while keeping their identities hidden.

Notably, it was raised in the above article that Riedel’s “merciless running story” regarding Bernadette in Gypsy “was fed by none other than its renowned librettist, Arthur Laurents—or, more precisely, by Laurents's lover”.

Contrary to the smiley picture below between members of the show’s creative team and it’s beloved star, it was no secret that Laurents did not like Mendes’ 2003 revival. Laurents told Riedel that “Sam did a terrible disservice to Bernadette and the play, and I wanted a Gypsy seen in New York that was good… You have to have musical theater in your bones, and Sam doesn't”. In fact, Laurents admitted the only reason his 2009 book ‘Mainly on Directing’ came into existence was because of how much he had to criticise about the show – it grew out of the extensive set of notes he gave Mendes.

Additionally, it was no secret that Laurents’ lover, Tom Hatcher, demonstrated both a desire and capacity to influence Arthur’s productions. As well as being the driving force for the 2009 Spanish-speaking reworking of West Side Story, Hatcher had intense investment in Gypsy specifically. Patti LuPone writes in her memoir, “From his deathbed, Tom had told Arthur, ‘You have to do Gypsy, and you have to do it with Patti’. It was one of his dying wishes”. Laurents himself, in corroboration of this, explained Tom’s reasoning – “he didn't want the Sam Mendes production to be New York's last memory of Gypsy”.

The allegation in Heilpern’s profile might be hard to prove from an outsider perspective. But given that neither were happy with Mendes’ production and both actively took steps to ensuring it would be superseded in memory, it is not completely implausible.

 Overarchingly, as much as Riedel’s writing may benefit FROM insider sources, it is said he does not write in benefit OF them. For instance, although friends with Scott Rudin in 2004, an animated (nay threatening) warning from Mr Rudin asking Riedel to “back off” from “slamming” his show, Caroline or Change, seemingly “had no impact”.

That’s not to cite total impartiality or exemption from personal connections and higher up influences colouring his reports of shows. Theatre publicist John Barlow would describe that sometimes “if you ask Michael to kill [one of his pieces], he will, if it’s someone with whom he does business”.

But it would be remiss not to mention that his influences and sources stretch beyond just the big wigs. Amongst his other informants too are the more lowly, overlooked folk like “the stagehands, the ushers, chorus kids, house managers, and press agents… the guys who build sets in the Bronx”. Basically, for anyone who’ll talk, Riedel will listen.

“Michael Riedel doesn't work for the producers or the publicists; he works for the reader,” one publicist said. “Sometimes we're glad of that, sometimes we're not-but at the end of the day, that's the reality.”

Sometimes he’s nice, sometimes he’s not – but the world goes round.

Through all that’s been explored, it should be stated how painful and injurious it must be for individual performers or shows to fall upon the unmitigated, maiming force of being on the wrong side of Riedel’s favour. The way he approached coverage on Bernadette is deplorable from an emotional and personal standpoint. Some would argue that it was too far and crossed a line and was most definitely unfair. Others would say it was justified. It’s hard not to sound petulant as the former, or heartless as the latter.

While his actions may indeed be abrasively wounding in isolated (often plentiful) cases, it’s unreasonable to say Riedel’s intentions would be to cripple the Broadway industry as a whole. There are those who purport that Riedel in fact “keeps Broadway alive with his controversies”. His words may not always be ‘nice’ but it’s difficult to argue they're not engaging.

Many are quick to criticize or react impassionedly to him and his columns; but few are quick to stop reading them. And Riedel “knows that the most important thing is being well read”.

Hence it is understandable why Riedel is appraised as “the columnist Broadway loves to hate”. Through his enthralling and stimulating bag of linguistic and dramatic tricks, Riedel knows how to keep the readers coming back. “He’s lively, and he makes the theater seem like an interesting place,” one producer did reason.

“There are times when no one's going to care about Broadway if you don't have a gossip angle that focuses on the backstage drama,” opined George Rush, the Daily News gossip columnist who was once Riedel's boss.

Perhaps it is logically and principally then, if somewhat cynically, a matter of believing “it's just business” and knowing how to “play the game”.

As Riedel himself would rationalise, “It’s all an act. You gotta have a gimmick, as they say in Gypsy.”

It may not be pleasant, but in a world increasingly dependent on sensationalistic and clickbait-driven engagement, it’s probably not going to change any time soon.

 Well then, if he can live with the toll of the position of moral tumult his column puts him in, so be it.

That he described his mind as being “constantly on the next deadline”, saying “I always think about the column”, and likening writing it to “standing under a windmill”, where “you dodge one blade, but there's always another one coming right behind it”, may be some indication that he can't. At least not wholly easily.

I’ll leave that to him to figure out. Off the record.

[siswritesyanderes]

Wow we just love to put Sadie through it don’t we? Which Doctor would you pair her with? Or a Torchwood person, if you think they’d fit her better.

Oh boy, it would be so interesting for all of them. And obviously, we're assuming this happens slightly later in her life; she's a teenager in Rule One because it's Twilight, but for a Doctor Who story she'd be in her twenties. Also, jury's out on whether it's platonic or romantic yanderes.

(For clarity, we're still working with the premise, as expressed in earlier posts, that all versions of the Doctor eventually get to kidnapping, so in most of these scenarios, she's already at full-time companion status. For Twelve, though, let's say it takes a bit longer for her to get there. If it doesn't squick you out, we could say she meets him the same way Bill does; at a college in which he's teaching. Either way, she'd have more Earth-bound interactions with Twelve than anyone else.)

Nine would probably be the most coherent and straightforward, for her. (Well, it's a tie between him and Thirteen.) He'd be frank about everything he's thinking and feeling, with regards to her, and he would be easy to talk to about it. Kinder and more reasonable than his edgy attire might suggest. Even when he doesn't bend on the whole kidnapping thing, he'd be easy to have a discussion with. Sadie tries probing about why he feels that he needs to keep her close, but he's resistant to telling her anything about his past. Admittedly, it makes her very curious. He's an alien, physiologically and mentally and emotionally distinct from humanity, and he's secretive, and he won't let her leave. The mystery of it all is very engaging. Obviously, she'd still rather not be kidnapped, but since that hadn't been made an option, she would like to learn everything.

Ten would be so complicated, because Sadie knows that the dynamic between them isn't healthy, but she also really doesn't like hurting people's feelings. She would try to help him talk through his problems and his trauma and his crimes, and that would only make him more obsessed and dependent. After all, who would help him to pick through all these painful memories, without her? It's like the pain of each old shame, each loss, is dulled just by discussing them with her; like she's left fingerprints of salve through his mind, and if anything were to happen to her, all of the salve would disappear at once. That's all in addition to the love he already felt for her. Sadie can see this increasing neediness developing, but he would just break down again if she stopped now (He wants to tell her everything, soothe more memories, wrap her more thoroughly around his emotional wellbeing.), and anyway, hopefully if they keep digging, they'll come out on the other side of this. Right?

Eleven would be hilarious just because Sadie would keep trying to manage a coherent, meaningful conversation about the parameters of the relationship, and he just keeps jumping from topic to topic and talking around her protestations and not addressing things as deeply as she wants to. His restlessness and Sadie's tendency to dwell and think things through would take some reconciling. She would try to adapt to his personality; she learns that asking him one question or making one request doesn't work as well as giving him a list. If she only says one thing, even if she repeats it, it can get lost in the deluge of his constant activity, but if she says, "Doctor. Four things. One: I need to eat. Two: Can I at least stop by my house to pick up some of my own clothes? Three: If so, can I bring my dog?...(etc.)", he'll likely remember and address each point. For the record, he would let her bring Brillig onto the TARDIS. He would start calling him "our dog". And he can speak dog, so he really treats Brillig more like their shared son. If Sadie wants to seriously discuss something, Eleven will whistle and tell Brillig something like, "Off you go; your mother wants to chat with me alone." And Brillig would go because, again, the Doctor speaks dog. Brillig is a good outlet for his energy, which makes it easier for Sadie to actually talk with him without him bouncing off the walls.

Twelve would be interesting because, like I've said in previous posts, he'd have a bit of tsundere energy, and Sadie would take that largely at face value at first, so he'd be acting all surly and she's just like, "Well, if you don't like me, then we don't have to interact, right?" Eventually, this train of thought would lead to her surmising that Twelve is more invested in her than he initially shows (since he keeps actively seeking her out), but she'd still be pretty blindsided by how much so. When it gets to the point that he does kidnap her, she would be scared stiff; she misread his feelings for her so many times, she has no idea what to expect anymore, so she just goes silent. He would initially try to reassure her that she's safe in a prickly, dismissive way, but when that doesn't help, he softens up and speaks honestly with her about his feelings. It still takes a while for her to relax. Twelve becomes really sweet, in his treatment of her, to make up for having confused and frightened her.

Thirteen would be frank and communicative, like Nine. More forgetful, though; she often has to say things like "Have I already said that?" or "Have I told you that yet? I meant to..." But she's trying to be communicative, and Sadie learns to periodically ask, "Now, Doctor, is there anything you think you should tell me but aren't sure you have?" Like I've said before, Thirteen is more of a slow burn, boil the frog yandere than most of the others, so as far as Sadie is concerned, she's just a companion at first. Enjoying the universe, and all of the alien cultures she gets to see. There's time for Sadie to develop camaraderie and fondness for Thirteen, before Thirteen's possessiveness becomes obvious, so Sadie talks her through it as a friend more than as a matter of survival or anything else. Thirteen is her quirky alien friend who sometimes has a bit of a dark side; it's fine. When Thirteen suddenly suggests that they're dating, Sadie goes with the flow. But eventually, she's going to ask to go home, and Thirteen will keep finding reasons not to, and they'll have their first argument. It isn't their last; Sadie and her time lord BFF go back and forth about this all the time.

I never watched Torchwood, but I do know Captain Jack from Doctor Who, and it blows my mind that I hadn't thought about him as a yandere before now. Hot, flirtatious, can't die, apparently armed with a gun even when he's naked. Thinking of him flirting with Sadie is delightful. I think he'd be closer to a jovial stalker than a kidnapper.

Aah, thank you for this question!

[velvetsehun]

Born to Die| OSH| 05

pairing: Oh Sehun x Reader genre: Mafia!Sehun rating: 18+ warnings: violence, gun use, mature language, smut (in future chapters), slow burn. words: 17.6k summary: a collusions of worlds is supposed to kill, but what if it can do something else?

A/N: Enjoy my loves, be sure to leave feedback - this is going to be a long one so get a snack and a drink ;)

TW// Warning this part contains some material that might be sensitive to readers as it depicts scenes of violence, readers discretion is advised.

Masterlist| Next

With eyes glazed over in interest, he watched from a small skylight – the figure of the policeman tending to you while you struggled to keep yourself upright in your chair, he was interested in what had just gone on in front of him. The flicker of blue and red light raiding up onto his curious face.

“Very interesting indeed…” His eyes flicked to where he’d seen the cars leave not too long ago, a gloved finger tapping his lip thoughtfully before his narrowed eyes flickered back down to the lady of the hour, “But, who are you dear…?” He’d never seen a life spared like that before.

There was a meaning behind that, meaning behind the last touch and whisper – he knew as well as anyone, lackies or dead weight didn’t get spared.

“Huh...” He tapped over the glass that looked down at you, his index finger pointed directly as you, your figure now slouched in the arms of the officer who was rushing out to the ambulance outside, a small smirk on crept onto his face, “Well, I’ll have to be seeing you soon, won't I?” He spoke to no one.

“Come on sweetheart, breathe with me, you’re okay now.”

You weren’t sure if you just lost a stream of consciousness after “officer Jeon” removed the bag from your head or if your soul finally left your body, but what you could remember was the feeling of warm hard reaching around you to cut your zip ties and the constant stream of reassurance burrowing in your ear.

“Hey…” You felt a light slap to your cheek, your groggy eyes fighting to stay awake as a small groan passed your lips, “Come on, I’m going to lift you up okay?” You grumbled in response, your head lulling forward to rest on his warm shoulder – he was a safety blanket for the moment.

“Is the ambulance outside?” Officer Jeon huffed out, “She needs oxygen quickly.”

“What’s the matter with her?” Someone asked, he got a chipped response.

“She’s gone into shock.” Officer Jeon snapped as you felt yourself being pulled up into his arms, your head spinning for a second – your eyes peaked open for a second to get a proper look at the officer.

“Huh…” You thought, “He’s kinda cute.” He had a youthful essence to his face, probably a little younger than yourself, but the way his jaw tensed made him look a bit older – sensing you looking at him, he glanced down at you with a slight smile.

“Don’t worry,” He spoke kindly, “You’re almost there.”

You could tell he takes his job seriously; he was tentative to you – not like Chanyeol was, he was more of a friendly touch, this officer spoke and acted like the perfect version of his job description, it was refreshing. Just as he said, you were almost there, before you knew it you were being placed to sit on the edge of an ambulance – your legs dangling out the back as an unknown woman make quick work of placing an oxygen mask over your dry mouth.

“Deep breath now, sweetheart” The female EMT spoke to you while fiddling with the oxygen tank, just as she did – it started to flow through the mask around your nose and mouth, the cold oxygen cooling your burning lungs.

Officer Jeon had no shame in watching you gasping into the mask, clearly enjoying the fresh air as your eyes flickered around the area you were in – a sense of unknowing seeping into your irises. You weren’t stupid, he was trying to work you out, you tried to play the part of someone who knew absolutely nothing, shivering into the foil blanket as it wrapped around you, Sehun’s previous words ringing very clearly in your ears.

“How do you know as once I get out that I won’t just go to the police?” You snapped, but you drew back when Sehun smiled.

“You’re dumb,” He began sounding nice before his voice dropped to a deadly tone, “But as you said, you enjoy living, you think about going to the police and I’ll make sure that seizes to be an option.” His tone was dark, so much so that your jaw dropped in astonishment, words dying on your throat.

Sehun mentioned that the police were on the way back when he was pressuring Gwan to give him an answer – but after threatening you to keep quiet on your end, you couldn’t believe for a second that he trusted you not to say anything, it was strange.

“You only have a few minutes, Gwan.” Sehun taunted him, “I’ve got some friends on the way who wouldn’t like how this could go down.”

“Friends…” You thought, your eyes flickering up to Officer Jeon, “He isn’t…Is he?” You narrowed your eyes slightly, still breathing deeply into the oxygen mask.

The area surrounding the warehouse was a mess, clearly as it was in the middle of nowhere – but the police were all over it like it was a crime scene, dogs and men barking orders filling the frost-bitten night. There was no sign that Sehun and his men were even here in the first place or Exodus as you should probably call them. The tire tracks from the car you were hauled out of were completely gone, the ground untouched – it was almost like you were the only one that was were here in the first place. It was spooky how quickly the men worked but you remembered that this was their job profession, even if it was their profession to nearly kill you three times in the space of a couple of days.

“Miss.” A voice snapped you out of your thought, eyes flickering up to Officer Jeon who was now joined with a slightly older man, “How are you feeling?” Sighing slightly, you removed the mask.

“I’ve been better.” You wheezed slightly, looking at the men, “But that’s not really what you want to ask me, huh?” Officer Jeon looked taken back.

“Any questioning will be done at the station, Miss,” Jeon smiled to cover the shock, “Merely just asking how you are.” You wanted to roll your eyes, but you kept a neutral face.

It was the moral question bouncing around your head that was wracking your brain more than this cop was; do you sell Sehun out? Is that even an option? Or is there someone waiting to kill you as soon as you open your mouth? It was a difficult situation, but you flicked your eyes back to the cop, to see if maybe you could suss him out instead.

“Please,” You smiled briefly, looking at the young cop, “Call me Y/N…” The cop smiled slightly, but the virtue in his eyes told you everything.

Placing the mask down, you took breaths of actual air – watching it crystallise into a hazy fog in the freezing atmosphere, you were warm now despite the bit of the night so with a sigh you looked at the officers again.

“Officer Jeon, I’d like to go to the station now if that’s alright…”

To some, a few pins on a map meant various locations in a city in which a person, and whoever they’re deciding to go, with could visit; but to Sehun the few pins merely told him where the Oh Family empire has sewn their roots around the city. It was a fickle thing really, but a small pin shoved into a tacky map showed some resemblance of his power, even if it was a picture of his crumbling power.

“How long are you going to stare at that thing?” Baekhyun sighed, tapping his fingers on the arm of the velour chair that he’d very much made a home in, Sehun’s office was weirdly comfortable for a man of that stature, “It’s still the same as when you put it up an hour ago” He hummed before he grunted, someone had clearly tried to shut him up again.

“I’m going to stare at it, Baekhyun,” Sehun began, his body lent casually against the back of the couch so he could look at the map in question, “Until one of my idiot brothers give me a reason to no longer stare at it.” Even if he wasn’t facing the brother he was talking to, he could feel his huffiness from where he was currently perched, it was just the two of them in the room.

“Well you’re in a delightful mood today,” Baekhyun scoffed back, “You worry too much, Sehun – sit down already.” That was enough to make Sehun gaze over his shoulder.

“And you worry too little,” Sehun retorted to the older man, “You forget the circumstances we’re in.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes.

“Like you’d let me forget,” He scoffed slightly, “You forget who spent the better part of all day yesterday running around the city for you.” He kicked his legs up on Sehun’s coffee table with a wince, his body was tired as it is.

“I call that doing your job,” Sehun hummed, turning around to stare at the man with a raised brow, his hands leaning on the back of the couch, “Or is the only thing you like doing is giving your witty comments?”

“So, you admit I’m witty?” Baekhyun smirked, much to Sehun’s dismay.

“Just get your feet off my coffee table,” His boss rolled his eyes, glancing at the map again before walking to his desk – Sehun, like the rest of his men, was tired, his body practically melting into his chair, stress had his arms around him.

Baekhyun didn’t make an attempt to move his feet, but he did glance at the map – his brows furrowed as he stared at their turf with interest, it was a lot larger than what Sehun’s father had originally acquired in his time, it was impressive what his son had managed to do in the few years he’d been boss but even now; Baekhyun could tell that the effects of owning an empire were taking a toll on his younger brother, and that had his stress melting off his face as he sighed.

“He’d be proud of you, you know?” Baekhyun spoke plainly, it wasn’t a snide remark for once, but it still has Sehun tensing – the younger man flicking his eyes to look at him. It was rare you got to see much happening in Sehun’s eyes, but Baekhyun had known him long enough to see the pain his irises carried.

“Very proud in fact” The older brother hummed, “Actually, we’re all proud of you…” Sehun sighed at that.

“He wouldn’t be proud of me,” Sehun had a slight edge to his voice as his eyes spaced out slightly.  

“What makes you think that?” Baekhyun questioned, folding his arms over his chest slightly, he didn’t want to press the young man, but he was curious.

“Because I’m not him,” Sehun tutted softly, “All this power and I can’t control what’s under my nose, my father had eyes everywhere – I seem to only have eyes when they chose to open.” Baekhyun sighed at that.

“Your father was also an incessantly greedy man,” Baekhyun cut in, biting his lip as his eyes flicked to his younger brother – he wasn’t his boss at that moment, “He had eyes everywhere because he was paranoid, he didn’t trust his syndicates as far as he could throw them, but regardless he always wanted more” Baekhyun didn’t give Sehun a chance to speak.

“Everything you have, you have it because you had the skills to get them and keep them,” Baekhyun took his feet off the table and sat straighter, “Your father? He lacked the communication; he was shoot first—" Baekhyun was cut off.

“Ask questions second.” Sehun finished.

“Exactly,” Baekhyun hummed, “Your father got most of his turf with war and blood, but you? You kept them around because you know how to speak to people” Baekhyun could see something flicker in Sehun’s eyes but he still kept quiet.

“So no, Sehun,” Baekhyun started with a deep sigh, “You’re nothing like your father, but be thankful you’re not, because otherwise? You’d face the same fate as him.”

It was quiet for a second before a small smile appeared on Sehun’s face, it wasn’t his usual smirk, it was an actual smile – something hard to find on the man’s face.

“Maybe I should promote you to motivational speaker,” Sehun chuckled, a humility to him that he reserved only for his brothers, “Motivation speaker and loudmouth.” Baekhyun laughed at that, a smile bleeding onto his face but he softened slightly before he continued to speak.

“As much as I hate to be the one to say it,” Baekhyun chuckled softly, “You’re too hard on yourself, it's ageing you.” He smirked, Sehun rolled his eyes.

“I am still perfectly young,” Sehun scoffed.

“Really?” Baekhyun teased, “You’re 26 and get I think I can see grey hairs from here?” Baekhyun joked, but Sehun looked at him before he glanced at the paperweight on his desk.

“You want another one to the face?” Sehun smirked at him, to which Baekhyun raised his hands in surrender, “Thought so...”

Although Sehun spent most of his time now with his underboss, Junmyeon, most of his childhood was spent with Baekhyun – the two families were thick as thieves for most of their lives, and the two had fond memories together. Baekhyun could still vaguely remember a tiny Sehun running around the gardens of the Byun estate while their mothers looked fondly at them – something that was very well in the past now, but it was memories like those that strengthened the bonds between them. Sehun was there most of his life, even in the moments he didn’t want to remember, he was there more than his biological brother was – so it made moments like this less awkward than it would if anyone else was to ask them. Sehun respected and loved all his brothers, he was their boss after all, but it was key bonds he knew that brought him comfort. Their world was a tricky one, and it was moments like Junmyeon and Minseok entering the room with a huff that reminded them off the task at hand.

“I’ll tell you something,” Minseok scoffed slightly, throwing himself down on the couch, “Some of these families are the epitome of egotism” He rolled his eyes.

Minseok was one of the few that was from a low family in the syndicate – they didn’t come from wealth or any stature, they were lackies in every sense of the word. Baekhyun could vaguely remember that his father owed one of their families a lot of money a long time ago.

“I see the meeting with the Lee’s on the westside went well?” Sehun hummed with a slight smirk.

“Well?” Minseok jeered, “Jaeyoon remains a bigot, refused to speak to me, it was from the immediate Oh family or silence.” Sehun chuckled slightly at that.

“I assume you got what I asked?” Sehun let a small puff of air that could register as a laugh pass from his lips, “Or do I need to send someone else.” Minseok was dramatically draped on the chair with his hand covering his eyes.

“It took about an hour of bargaining but Lee said none of the casinos have had any suspicious activity, all the chips are accounted for and there’s been no silver-haired man and his friend lurking around,” Minseok sighed.

“But…?” Sehun raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to it.

“He and the 3 other families you’ve had me talk to are a bit suspicious,” Minseok looked at the man, “And I assume Jongdae was in the same boat as me” Sehun tapped at his desk looking at Junmyeon, taking in the information.

“I assume your little cop friends have been informed of tomorrow?” Sehun decided to continue.

“Commissioner Jung has been tipped off, yes,” Junmyeon told him, “A team and an ambulance will be dispatched to the scene as soon as we leave, but we have to be quick – otherwise we will be in trouble” He raised his eyebrows at his boss.

“You still haven’t told me exactly what it is you’re planning,” Jun tutted slightly, clearly a bit disgruntled being out of the loop.

“Don’t live for the thrill, Jun?” Sehun drawled while leaning back in his chair, he was met with a blank face, “Trust me, please.”

Sehun looked like he was about to spill the beans but Baekhyun felt a laugh bubble up in his throat as Kyungsoo slammed the door open like he always did, a mirror of annoyance passing over Junmyeon’s face as he did at the disturbance. 

“The girl’s story checks out,” Kyungsoo wasted no time, making himself known in the room – a rather tame looking Chanyeol trailing in behind him, “Footage from Oasis’ cameras were tampered with and wiped clean at the same time every couple weeks” The two sat down at one of the bigger couches in the room.

“I expected as much, looks like it’ll make tomorrow slightly easier” Sehun sighed, “You think it’s possible to find the footage?” Sehun quizzed slightly, much to Kyungsoo’s sigh.

“I mean, I could try but I’d need the physical hard drive” He tutted slightly, “It's fine and well to hack into the camera’s but if it’s been wiped I’d need the physical unit that held the footage” Sehun made a noise at that.

“And where is that hard drive?” He asked, looking at the two of them, but it was Chanyeol who spoke this time.

“Police storage,” Chanyeol rolled his eyes, “They wiped the bar completely clean, one of the guys checked it out yesterday” Sehun’s eyes fluttered closed for a second out of annoyance before he looked at Jun.

“So, they have whatever was leftover of our stock from the bar?” Sehun felt his coolness frying at the seams.

“Not exactly, no” Baekhyun cut in, looking a tad sheepish – the conversation turned to him as he continued, “I might have worked a little out of pocket...”

“Out of pocket?” Sehun’s brows raised.

“After Junmyeon and Chanyeol rummaged the bar for the girl's things, I might have had some of the men slip in and get the rest of the stock…” Baekhyun grinned slightly, clearly proud of himself, and for once Sehun felt a small weight off his chest – a laugh passing his lips.

“Normally I’d reprimand you, but it seems you used your head for once,” Sehun smirked, “But you didn’t think to tell anyone?” To which Baekhyun pointed at his fading black eye.

“Slipped my mind,” He chortled, everyone in the room laughed at that for a second before another silence washed over it.

“We still need the hard drive,” Sehun tutted softly, “It’s not exactly the main priority right now, but I’d love to see the full footage – and put a face to our faceless men.”

“Speak of which, where is—” Sehun was cut off which someone else coming in the room, “Jongin…” He continued looking at the man who was clothed rather plainly for once, but that was part of his job.

“Someone’s got a flair for the dramatics,” Minseok muffled a laugh, the rest of the men looking slightly amused, but their boss remained a bit more passive.

“Find out anything useful?” Baekhyun smirked softly.

Out of all the men – Jongin had the best job, he often got to go out and undercover as someone else for a few days to get information, whereas people like Baekhyun and Chanyeol dealt with a lot of the “heavy lifting” or the jobs that no one else had the stomach for. Everyone played their part in the group, but some of them still had better jobs than others – people like Jongin didn’t get their hands dirty in the same way that people like Baekhyun and Chanyeol did, and it was very rare that you’d see Minseok, Jun, Kyungsoo or Jongdae get their hands dirty.

“Well,” Jongin looked a bit stressed while he looked at his brothers, “I went back to the area surrounding the bar like you asked.” Sehun looked at him expectantly, Jongin had been gone for a night and day at this point – he expected something.

“And while I was in a café not too far from the bar I heard some people talking,” Jongin sat down on the arm of one of the couches, looking directly at his boss, “It was mostly buzzing around what happened the other night, but I also picked up on some college kids talking.”

“Does the club ‘Teardrop’ mean anything to you?” Jongin asked, to which Sehun looked a bit curious.

“Can’t say I know the owner, but it’s not one of ours” Sehun looked at Jongin curiously.

“Well, I tried to follow any leads I had in the area who might have been dealt anything by Byung-Chul, and that came up cold,” Jongin explained, as everyone looked at him confused as to where he was going, “But these kids were talking about a new party drug that was making the rounds at that club, what exactly were you sending to Oasis again?” Sehun raised an eyebrow thinking for a second.

“A strong strain of cocaine…” Sehun muttered slightly, the cogs turning in his head. “It was being held there until it could be sold off to some of our more prestige clients.”

“Well,” Jongin started, “It was the only lead I had, so I decided to go to Teardrop last night and check it out for myself.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a clear baggy, a powdery substance clinging to the plastic.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Sehun held his hand out to Jongin – the latter standing to drop the baggy in his hands and Sehun wasted no time opening it once he had it. The familiar sweet floral scent wafted from the bag, it was stronger than it usually was; the main reason they were selling it, but the metallic smell that usually cut through wasn’t there, something was muffling the smell.

“Is this ours?” Sehun frowned, dropping the baggy on his desk.

“I picked that up in Teardrop last night,” Jongin said, “I managed to snag it off some girl, but everyone there was on it – there wasn’t a soul that was sober in the place.” Sehun passed the baggy to Junmyeon who had stood to investigate.

“It smells like ours but also not…” Junmyeon glared at the substance slightly, “Tampered?” He looked at Jongin.

“Possibly,” Jongin shrugged.

“But where did she get it?” Baekhyun asked, clearly confused, to which Jongin looked a bit annoyed.

“A silver-haired man…” He frowned, “I tried to get her to tell me anything about him, but she was barely coherent, everyone was gone.”

“Bartenders?” Sehun tilted his head, curious.

“Silent,” Jongin confirmed, “I asked around, no one could tell me anything, i searched the place for about an hour and nothing - he wasn’t there.”

“Security cameras?” Sehun clenched his jaw slightly.

“Nothing,” Jongin sighed, “It’s like he doesn’t exist…”

“He does exist,” Baekhyun hummed, “It’s just he’s keeping himself very well hidden…”

“More like hidden to the right people,” Chanyeol scoffed, looking deeper in thought than the rest of them, something the Baekhyun raised his eyebrow at.

“Think any harder, Yeol and you’ll burst a blood vessel,” Baekhyun said, toying with the man – to which the man in question merely just rolled his eyes.

“I just think it’s a bit funny that’s all…” Chanyeol grumbled.

“You think what’s funny?” Junmyeon asked, slightly confused.

“The whole thing,” Chanyeol puffed out, “We have to random men able to just walk into a bar, convince our dealer to give them our supply and they distribute it under our noses in one of the few clubs we don’t own.” He gestured to the map, annoyed.

Looking at the map, Sehun got back off his chair to walk to it – twirling a red pin in his nimble fingers as he stared the piece of paper down, his brothers staring at him as he placed the contrasting pin in the centre of the city. There was a wave of silence as their boss collected his thoughts.

“Chanyeol’s right,” Sehun affirmed, “It’s very weird that they’ve managed to pull it off, and pull it off without anyone flagging any up – which makes me think that whoever they are, they aren’t working solely by themselves…” He hummed, tapping the new mark on the map.

“But who are they working with?” Junmyeon asked, “One of ours?”

“That’s the million dollar question” Sehun continued. “How much stock exactly did they take?”

“Jongdae said enough every month that it wouldn’t seem suspicious to whoever it was originally being dealt out too,” Minseok said to him, “It makes sense, we’d notice large quantities going missing, and from the looks of it, they’re using what they did take and thinning down to make it last longer, the girl did say that they stopped turning up.” Minseok looked like he was about to continue but the beeping of his phone cut him off,

“Speak of the devil, he’s just finished doing intake with Yixing at the docks…” Minseok hummed.

“Verdict?” Junmyeon asked, brows furrowed.

“Seems like since yesterday, a few things have gone missing…” Minseok frowned, “Dong-Yul says he doesn’t know anything about it but a few snipers are missing from a shipment that was checked this morning, that and a couple of handguns; along with a few silencers, no ammo though…” Sehun chuckled a bit darkly at that.

“That sounds like a threat if I’ve ever heard one,” Sehun smirked, but it lacked the humour to it, “Sounds like our friends are planning a little heist.” He clocked his head slightly, turning to his brothers.

“Or a take-out job,” Baekhyun hummed, “Silencers...Can’t say we use them unless we want to get someone in public, even at that...”

“It sounds like war to me,” Chanyeol frowned slightly, cutting him off.

“It certainly sounds like the beginning of one,” Baekhyun affirmed, Sehun merely kept smirking; it was a dark smirk that they didn’t see cross his face very often.

“Whatever it is,” Sehun started, crossing his arms over his chest; his suit pulling taught over his arms, “They’ve made the first step, the drugs I could write off, there’s plenty to go around – the firearms though from our stash? That’s fighting talk.” Sehun tutted like you would scold a child.

“Get Yixing and Jongdae back to the house,” Sehun panned to looked at Minseok, who nodded – tapping quickly on his phone.

“Jongin, get dressed – you’re going back to Teardrop tonight, take Baekhyun with you and scope out the place, I want eyes everywhere...” Baekhyun smirked at that, looking at Jongin with amusement. “And stay on task.” That one was aimed at the older brother.

“Our syndicates are getting suspicious,” Sehun tsk’ed softly, walking around the couches to look out his office window, “News spreads fast, and it's already spreading now, they won’t just believe in random stock takes any longer.” Sehun was in his full boss mode, something he’d seen his father do hundreds of times.

“What are we going to do about that?” Kyungsoo asked, frowning slightly as the brothers all looked at each other.

“In still some faith in our family,” Sehun spoke plainly like everyone was just supposed to understand.

“Faith…?” Junmyeon raised an eyebrow, which had Sehun chuckling slightly.

“It seems like no one else doing their job around here, so I suggest we hold a little party soon, have a few… meaningful conversations” Sehun drawled, “And if our little friends decide they want to come… Well, more the merrier.” Sehun could feel the eyes on his back but he had still yet to turn around.

“You want to make yourself the target?” Junmyeon sounded a bit shocked.

“No, you misunderstand me,” Sehun cut in, “I don’t intend to make myself the target, brother…” Looking over his shoulder with a smirk.

“I am already the target.”

Officer Jeon was very quick to accept your wishes of going back to the station, a fire burning in his eyes at the thought of getting information - it unnerved you slightly, but at this point, everything was unnerving you. Junmyeon promised that the police would be taken care of, you vividly remembered that, but you were still being pinned as one of the causes of the shoot-out at Oasis, so really? What could they take care of? It didn’t help that they shoved you into the back of a police cruiser as well, your tired eyes glaring at the back of Officer Jeon’s head, and the other man who you learned was the Commissioner Jung was driving the vehicle but what you found odd was his eyes kept meeting yours – an understanding in his eyes that meant no good to you. 

They were treating you as you suspected they would; like a suspect in a crime, but the only thing they hadn’t done was outwardly cuff you yet – but you guessed that had something to do with the fact they found you strapped to a rickety chair. Touching the marks on your wrist you felt seething hate for Sehun and the fact he left you like that, your lungs still feeling the burn of having your breath taken away by the plastic bag – it was a traumatic affair, but still, you couldn’t knock the fact that he apologised before he put you to harm’s way. Sehun didn’t strike you as a remorseful man, you might even go as far to say that sorry isn’t a word that left his mouth at all, but he still apologised – and that didn’t settle well with you. He did also shoot a loaded gun right next to your head after threatening to do that before, but still, his sorry sank your stomach to the oceans floor. Frankly, you were beyond exhausted, but you knew your night was far from over, especially with the police station quickly approaching – you’d only been here once when you were in university after having to pick up a friend who got too much on a night out, but aside from that, you were pretty clean slate. 

However, acidity was brewing in your stomach from the car stopping, but it was being cut with the intensity of the situation – the two officers up front were silent as the door next to you opened; a man you didn’t know reaching in and hoisting you out like a criminal. This was the second time tonight that you were being manhandled but like before, it was safer to keep completely quiet. The man was a bit rough with you to the point that you stumbled when you got out the car, Officer Jeon’s voice snapped slightly at that. 

“Have a bit of respect, Officer.” You could hear him behind you as the officer that was holding you kept walking – looking up at him, you could see the annoyance on the man’s face. 

It took you a second to realise that it was very early morning – probably about 3 am, the brief walk from the car to the inside of the station affirmed to you that everyone around you was hideously tired, the blue-clothed zombies staring at you with annoyed eyes.  You had still yet to speak to anyone, but you were taking you silence as a good thing – these men weren’t exactly the most trusting of you.

The foyer to the police station looked like it hadn’t been touched by the modernity of the world yet, the dark wood and contrasting white everything else were an assault on the eyes, so much so that you found yourself squinting from the fluro lights that hung above your head – the man dragging you had yet to introduce himself but you supposed he didn’t need to, you hopefully would never see him again, he or the bratty officer who you were shoved in front of you get your prints taken. She was a snide older woman, her face leathered with the stress of the job and the attitude to match, she had your own had pinching in annoyance at her seemingly nasally voice. 

“Left hand please.” She snapped slightly, readying the ink – and glaring at you when you didn’t move, “I said, left hand, please.” 

“No.” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking between her and the other officer, “I wasn’t officially arrested, nor have I had my rights read to me, you’re not getting my prints.” You snapped slightly, irate with the fact you’d been through hell tonight and now that? 

“Listen, kid,” The other officer snapped back at you, “Either you give her the prints willingly or I do it by force, the choice is yours.” There is was. The words; that phrase everyone kept repeating to you, the illusion of choice you kept being given.

“Don’t call me kid.” You hissed slightly feeling the heat rush to your face, “I have been kidnapped, I have been strapped to a chair and suffocated, and pulled around like a dog for days, either tell me why I need to get this done or let me go.” The vein in your eyelid was throbbing with the intensity of your facial expression. 

The awareness that you were acting like a child was minor in the back of your head, but your irritation overruled any form of adult self you had left – you were tired and fed up and at this point? It was all Oh Sehun’s fault, the bastard had put you in this predicament, him and Chanyeol and whoever else he ran with. 

The officer you had yelled at looked like he was about to retort when a hand rested on his arm, the familiar face of Officer Jeon coming into your peripheral, you didn’t break eye contact with the other officer, but Jeon spoke anyway. 

“I’ll deal with this…” Jeon nodded at the other man, before turning to smile at you – but his smile was met with a blank stare. “Miss…” He cleared his throat nervously. 

“Yes?” You were stony with the younger man, stony and far too tired to care at this point.

“Let’s take a few steps back huh?” He kept trying to smile at you, probably to try and ease your anger – but his face only built it up more. “We can talk about it; I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

“Tell me, Officer,” You gritted your teeth slightly, “Is it common practice to treat someone who hasn’t been arrest as a criminal?” He merely sighed at that. 

“Listen, your case is… A special one,” He said lightly, “You’ve been gone for nearly 4 days after being witness to a shooting, we have to take precautions...” You could feel any life leave your eyes at that. 

“Be honest with me officer,” You spoke with little to no emotion to it, “Do I seem dangerous to you?” You watched him frown at that. 

“Well,” He stuttered slightly, “No ma’am, you don’t.” you smiled tensely at that. 

“Then tell me again officer,” You said, “Why do I have to get this done?” You tilted your head at him. He sighed for a second before looking back at his superior, who looked slightly amused at the situation – Commissioner Jung didn’t seem like a man to beat around the bus. 

“If I may interject,” The older man said, glancing at you, “I believe the young lady is right,” Your eyebrows raised at that, glancing between the two men. Officer Jeon looked conflicted at that though. 

“This isn’t really necessary,” Jung leaned over and whispered to the younger officer, who at that looked a bit taken back.

“But–“ Jeon tried to reason with the older man, who for all that it was worth merely raised his hand to silence him.

Turning around to face you, Commissioner Jung had a smile on his leathery face – he was a much older man than officer Jeon, his age probably equivalent to his title, but for some reason, you couldn’t find it in yourself to trust this man. There was something in his dark eyes that unnerved you slightly, it had been like that since the car ride to the stations, whoever this man was, he wasn’t completely truthful, and you had a feeling that Sehun had something to do with it. 

His crinkled faced smiled at you, “Ma’am if you don’t mind, I’d like to take you to an interrogation room?” You merely nodded keeping eye contact with him. 

You had a feeling it was going to go like this, as Jeon had said – you had been gone for nearly 4 days and clearly, they knew you were in the hands of a gang if the news report at the rest stop a few days ago was anything to go by.  Interrogation, however, was not something you had prepared for – Junmyeon said they’d handle the police and Sehun said that if you told them anything, they’d off you quicker than you could blink, so what were you to do? Jung was the one who was walking you to the interrogation room, and honestly, you hoped to have gone in a cell for a few hours first, to think things over but they were wasting no time. It was freezing in the police station but as you were led deeper, it was like the temperature was purposefully getting lower – you swore you could see your breath in the air at one point. The hallways weren’t lit the best, but it was enough to set you in edge, especially when Jung pull up to a nondescript door. 

“After you, Ma’am,” He smiled at you as he opened the door, it was completely fake, but you nodded slightly anyway, walking into the room with a grimace. 

Having never been in a room like before, you somehow knew it was going to be like this; dimly lit with concrete brick walls painted in a dull two-tone white and murky green, it was a concrete haven. You shoes clicked slightly on the bare floors but the centrepiece of the room was the large steel table central to it all; it was a dark metal with equally dark metal seats, a loop that was intended to put handcuffs through and a tape player placed haphazardly off to the side. It was a table that was intended for 3 people to sit at but this time it was just you and commissioner Jung, the older man behind you nudging you to sit in the solo seat on the other side of the table. 

“Sit,” He suggested as he took a seat across from where you were intended to sit down, glancing at the obvious mirrored window that always rested off to the side of rooms like this – you sat down, shivering slightly at the coldness of the seat. “Water?” He asked, gesturing to the jug that looked like it had been sitting there for hours. 

“No, thank you…” Your voice was quiet as you tried to take in as much of the room as you could, the fluro light that hung above the table weirdly didn’t do much to light the room, but you guessed it was some sort of intimidation tactic. 

Commissioner Jung had a file in front of him that he was rifling through as you glanced around, your eyes every so often flicking to the giant double-sided mirror that was the only feature of the drab room. Much like when you met with Sehun in his lovely dining room, you were sitting on your hands, trying to make yourself as small as possible – a stark contrast to your attitude outside, but unlike the towering gang leader; you couldn’t banter with these people. It was almost deafening when Jung reached over to hit record on the tape player, an old-fashioned method but from then on out you knew your words needed to be careful – people were listening now.

“So,” Jung began, glancing at his papers before looking at you, “We’ll start easy… What’s the date today?” He spoke clearly, as you blinked slowly at him confused.

“October 17th…?” You frowned softly, trying to count the days since you’d been gone, he wrote something down at that. 

“Can you tell me how long you’ve been gone for?” He asked again, keeping a scary amount of eye contact with you. 

“Nearly 4 days,” You nodded, “I was taken on the 13th of October.” He hummed at that.

“Take, that’s right…” He hummed, “Okay, I’ll ask something else, Ma’am – how and why were you taken?” You tried not to let it show but you froze a bit at that. 

Sehun had warned you clearly to keep your mouth shut or else, where you expected to just lie for him and his men under police questioning? 

“I…” You stuttered slightly, “I don’t know why I was taken…” That much was the truth, although Sehun had given you an answer, you still weren’t quite sure why you were taken. 

“But,” You continued, “On the night of the 13th, there was an incident at the bar, men – I don’t know who came in…” You breathed deeply for a second, trying to pick parts out of that night that you’d be able to tell them. 

“They had guns,” You nodded, “I don’t know why they were there, it was sorta a blur after the first shot…” Commissioner Jung nodded, before picking up a piece of paper and placing down in front of you – it was a picture of a man you’d never seen before in your life. 

“The security tapes show you getting ambushed in the loading bay, is that correct?” Your eye’s narrowed at the man, how looked at you with a glint in his eyes that told you to agree.

“No, that’s no correct and you know it.”  You wanted to say. 

“Yes.” You lied, “I was getting another keg from the loading bay…” He cut you off. 

“When someone ambushed you?” He nodded, “I don’t know if you got a look at him, but is that him?” He reached and tapped the picture, your eyes glanced down at the page as a tension built in your neck. 

“I don’t know…” You swallowed, “I didn’t see their face, they covered my face and knocked me out...” Jung hummed again, writing something down. 

“Do you have any ties to any gang-related crime?” He asked, looking at you again, “Family? Friends? Colleagues?” He listed off professionally, a stark contrast to what he was saying. 

You imagined if someone put a thermometer on your body right now; they think you were unusually warm for such a cold room, the sweat in your palms enough to drown someone at this rate. 

“No,” This was the truth, “I don’t talk to my family but they’re a standard bunch, nothing shady… Same with my friends, they’re all normal people…” You nodded, sighing softly. 

“What about co-workers?” Jung pressed. 

“I wouldn’t know,” You licked your cracking lips, “I never spoke to Jaewoo or Mr Gwan outside of work unless I ran into them or I was called to cover a shift…”

“Was Mr Gwan there the night of the shooting at Oasis?” He leaned back in his chair slightly, you were hyper-aware of his movements at this point. 

“No,” Again, not a lie, “It was just me and Jaewoo, I was supposed to lock up for the night, but Mr Gwan isn’t around much…” You moved your hands to rest on the table, the cold metal cooling your flushed skin. 

“Okay,” He scribbled something down, “Now... Can you tell me about where you’ve been for the last 4 days?”

“Shit” You screamed in your head; this man had been lying for you but what were you supposed to say?

“Well…” You coughed, thoughts of Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Sehun, running away whizzing around your head as you looked at the table. 

“It’s okay,” Jung said with a nod, “Take your time.” Glancing up at him you sighed. 

“I’m not sure what happened…” You bit down on your lip, “I was knocked out for most of the first day and the rest… They kept me in the dark.” 

“They?” Jung pressed slightly, “There was more than one of them?”

“Yes,” You moved in your chair slightly, “I couldn’t see them, but I could sort of hear them, there was more than one.”

 “So, you never knew where you were for the 4 days you were there?” Jung asked, tapping his pen on the table. 

“I didn’t know at all,” You were a liar, an ugly liar, “I was kept in a dark room, every few hours someone one would food and water in and that was it…” 

“Right…” The man nodded, “And the warehouse, how did you end up there?” You sighed, cracking your knuckles. 

“Someone came into the room, forced me to stand up then covered my head with a cloth bag...” You grimaced slightly, “I was put in a car and before I knew it, I was there – strapped to a chair.”

“Did anything happen in the warehouse?” Jung raised an eyebrow.

“No,” you shook your head knowing to keep quiet, “I was just left there, facing the door – I heard movement behind me but that was it.” 

“So, they just left you there?” You nodded again at that.

“Yes, they bagged me again before they left…” You quieten down slightly, “I don’t know if they were trying to kill me…” Your voice cracked, that part was true – the plastic bag over your head was terrifying. 

“Did they hurt you at all besides that?” Jung pointed to your hands; you bit your tongue in your mouth at that. 

“No,” you looked at your bandages, “I fell outside work a few days ago into some glass, but they never hurt me when I was with them, they left me alone.” 

“Right…” Jung furrowed his eyebrows, “Only a few more questions left ma’am, then you’re free to go.” You sighed at that, your chest feeling funny. 

Looking at you, he slid another piece of paper in front of you; this time it was a blurry photo of two men, squinting your eyes you had to stifle a small gasp; among the pixels, you could make out Baekhyun’s face, it was an old picture because the hair was different but regardless, it was him. The other man in the photo had his back to the camera, but you could tell they were tall, probably Chanyeol; the two of them were always together it seemed, but the photo showed them in a dimly lit parking lot, the light causing the camera to lose any focus it had. 

“That photo, do those men look familiar?” You were leaning into the photo to get a better look, but you flicked your eyes up to the officer; there was that glint in his eyes again. 

“No,” You lied again, keeping eye contact with the officer, “I’ve never seen them before in my life.” 

“So, the name Exodus means nothing to you?” He pressed, raising an eyebrow; the look in his eyes was the same as Sehun’s. 

“You sly bastard…” Your mouth opened slightly as you spoke in your head. 

“Nothing at all,” You affirmed, “Is that part of the bible?” You questioned; the commissioner chuckled softly at that. 

“I think we have everything we need,” Jung nodded, “We’ll be in contact if we need you, the security tapes already show you had nothing to do with this.” It was hasty but you nodded with him.

Quickly taking the paper bag, Jung tucked them into a file along with his nose that he took during questioning; his weathered had reached to turn the recording off as the door to the room opened, Officer Jeon appearing in the doorway looking a bit more frazzled than you had seen him before. 

“Ma’am,” He coughed looking at the two of you with a soft smile, it was forced but you welcomed it for once. 

“Your boyfriend is here.”

Crunch.

Sehun’s body moved with the momentum of the punch as he internally winced at the feeling of his skin hitting bone, but he didn’t drawback at all – taking some sort of sick satisfaction at the vision of his newest captive’s head flinging back with a grunt. Byung-Chul was a mess, his face bloodied and raw, and the previous hit had just done a magnificent job at breaking his nose.

“I’ll ask again,” Sehun stood back to his full height, shaking off his hand; which in the short time they’ had been down there had gone from milky smooth skin to a blistering mess of red and torn skin, “Who are you working for?” Sehun inquired again, raising his brows when Byung-Chul spat his blood on the floor very close to Sehun’s shoes, it only landed the man another bunch, Sehun grunting with the force of his swing.

To some, Sehun was visually the vision of calm; even though his suit that he’d normally wear had been deconstructed to just a simple yet expensive white shirt and slacks with his hair, while slightly dishevelled, was still pretty much pushed back away from his face. He looked more fit to be at a party or an expensive restaurant than in his basement trying to information from a lowly gang member but here he was, looking at his latest captive with contempt. It took a quick a glance and a nod from Baekhyun, who was resting at the corner of the drab room, for Sehun to roll his eyes; his large hand reaching out to grasp the hair on Byung-Chul’s head.

“You know,” Sehun was right next to the man’s face, his fist tightening in his hair as the man whimpered slightly at the pull; Sehun wasn’t holding back with this captive, “The longer you stay silent the harder I’m going to hit you, do you want that?” Sehun looking down at the man with a mocking look; his dark brows raised like he was giving a choice.

“I’m waiting,” Sehun whispered darkly, yanking the man’s hair for good measure; but when he received silence, he flung his head forward away from him, the chair he was in shaking with the force.

Standing up to his full height again, Sehun paced around Byung-Chul; his hands clasped behind his back in thought, his face was stern with stress and slight anger, so that thought that he had slowly dissipated as he quickly swivelled back around, gearing his long leg back before the heel of his leather shoe dug itself into the gunshot wound on Byung-Chul’s leg in a very swift kick. This time Byung-Chul howled for the first time in hours, his yelp reverbing off the concrete walls and into everyone’s ears – from the corner of his eye, Sehun could see Chanyeol even flinch at the thought of getting a hard sole in a fresh gunshot wound. But how his men felt about the situation was redundant to him.

“Talk.” Sehun snapped at the man whose tears were disgustingly mixing with his blood after leaking from his puffed eyes, “I have all day, but do you?” Sehun taunted crouching down to be eye level with the man.

“Who are you working for,” Sehun reiterated, one of his hands sliding into his back pocket to grasp something, his long fingers grasping onto cool metal “I won’t ask you again.”

Byung-Chul in all his battered glory stared him down, “They’ll kill me.” He rasped.

“I’ll kill you,” Sehun reminded him, tutting slightly but surprised he said anything after 3 hours of beatings.

“They’ll kill me…” Byung-Chul grated out again, before leaning his face closer to his old boss locking what he could of his eyes to Sehun’s, “And then they’ll kill you.” He spat.

It took a second for the words to settle over Sehun but as soon as they did his hand was whipping out of his pocket and the knife he was holding was impaled into Byung-Chul’s leg – the force of the action causing it to slide all the way through his leg and into the wood of the chair on the other side. Byung-Chul’s eyes bulged for a second in shock before he screamed out, his head tipping back in agony, but it only caused his leg to pull on the metal that was now a part of it, the blood gushing from his leg and dripping onto the floor below; a puddle slowly building.

“Sit tight, Byung-Chul,” Sehun smirked at the man, patting the sobbing man on the back at his stool straight, “We’ll talk again soon.” He ended with before the taller man was walking out the room with all the grace of a king.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol who had been quietly observing the session the whole time filed out after him, their captive yelling out his pain to no one now. The heavy metal door slammed behind the three of them as they exited, the theatrics of the room washing off them much like Sehun was washing the blood off his hands in the small sink the kept in the basement.

“Well,” Baekhyun sniped, “That was woefully unfulfilling,” He scoffed planting himself on a table that was filled with various instruments they would often use for the people in the room they were just in.

Sehun was too busy looking the mixture of blood washing down the sink to bother to respond to Baekhyun’s comment; his jaw a bit tense at he watched the ivory sink turn a nasty shade of pink, luckily Chanyeol did the talking for him.

“Maybe,” Chanyeol was leaning against the stairs that led out the basement, “But it confirmed that whoever he’s working for is making Sehun the target.” Baekhyun hummed at that.

“But why?” Baekhyun pondered, “He’s keeping pretty tight-lipped for someone who ran a bar and just happened to smuggle and sell drugs in his spare time.” Sehun was shaking his hands off in the sink before he turned around.

“Money, probably, that or blackmail,” Sehun gravelled out, “Always the motives to keep quiet,” He leaned against the sink, uncaring if anything he was wearing got wet.

“So far, we have only him and your little bartender who knows what this new guy looks like,” Baekhyun was swinging his legs on the edge of the table like a child, an oxymoron to the conversation they were having, “No security tapes, no one else knows that he or his men look like.” Sehun sighed at that. “That…” Sehun trailed off, “Is something that I’m currently dealing with.” Chanyeol raised his eyebrow.

“How? You left the girl suffocating to death, I doubt she’ll want to help you now,” Chanyeol spat out, Baekhyun whistled lowly at that a small smirk on his face, “And that idiot in there won’t say anything, so where does that leave us?”

“Someone’s got an attitude today,” Baekhyun was back to his Cheshire cat ways, which had Sehun rolling his eyes at the two of them.

“Down boy,” Sehun drawled to Chanyeol, “The girl’s alive, you can rest easily” He rolled his eyes while looking at his watch.

“If I timed it right, she should be at the police station now,” He hummed, “But where she is, is no concern to you – I’ve got plans for the girl yet.”

“Didn’t you go out of your way to call her useless?” Chanyeol raised an eyebrow at him. “Why drag her into this?”

“Yes,” Sehun locked eyes with him, as Baekhyun sat with a shit-eating grin at the tension, “And at the time, she was useless.” He tweaked his eyebrow at him

“What changed,” Chanyeol challenged his boss.

“Baekhyun already said, she knows what this new guy looks like,” Sehun spoke plainly to him, not taking his challenge although he could see it clearly, “That’s useful to me now.”

“She’s not your pawn,” Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrowed.

“And she’s nothing to do with you either,” Sehun retorted back.

Although Chanyeol would never admit it to anyone in the room, the brief moments he spent with you touched him in a way he hadn’t felt in a while – it wasn’t romantic in the slightest, but he felt a sense of protection over you. It was stupid considering he hadn’t known you that long, but watching you talk and just be as you have sparked a sense of longing in him – a longing for normality and just a state of being where he didn’t have to worry about watching his boss pummel someone to pieces.

“Why do you care?” Sehun tilted his head at his brother.

All while this was happening Baekhyun was sat off to the side living up the drama unfolding in front of him – they never did give him the credit but Baekhyun was an observer, he may be a loudmouth but it was moments like this he could just sit and watch, take everything in for later use.

“I don’t,” Chanyeol lied.

“Really?” Sehun laughed slightly, but there wasn’t much to the laugh, “Your tone would say otherwise”

“I’m just curious how you’re using her, that’s all.” Chanyeol snapped back, his body tense, Sehun chuckled slightly at that standing up from the sink.

“Don’t worry yourself with my matters, Chanyeol,” Sehun hummed, “Do the jobs your given and leave the girl to me.”

Walking towards the stairs there was an air of a smirk still on Sehun’s face, the tired man making his way back up to civilisation so that he could sleep in peace but not before playfully clapping Chanyeol on the back, glancing at him over his shoulder as he ascended the wooden panels back into his home.

“Electric Kiss could use a new bartender, no?”

The confusion was clear as day on your face as Jeon uttered the words; Boyfriend, but you got up regardless with a nod, following the young man out as your brain wracked every possible person it could be. The police station was just the same as it was when had entered the room, only this time in the foyer was a tall blonde and one that you hadn’t seen in months.

He was still the same pixie-like man you’d known before, except with longer blonde hair and a grimace painted on his usually neutrally happy face.

“Jeonghan…” you breathed, with confusion written all over your face, even though you were quiet, that still managed to get his attention.

The stress physically melted off his face as you walked carefully to him with officer Jeon behind you, but when you were close enough he managed to catch you off guard to pull you to him, your body jumping in freight; the thud of you hitting his chest was all you and felt heard as he practically smothered you.

“Jesus,” He cried, pulling you close as you stood there frozen in time, just sort of smashed to his chest, “You’re alright,” He said before he pulled you back with his hands on your arms to get a proper look at you; his eyebrows pulling slightly at the state of you.

“You are alright?” He looked you in the eye much like a mother would if they were coddling but you merely nodded back to him, a bit too shocked to speak. 

It seemed like Jeonghan was going to do all the talking to you, as he brushed past you slightly to shake Officers Jeon’s hand; the man looking a bit confused but taking his hand anyway as the many thank you’s spilt from his lips. Jeonghan was always a worrier but you were confused to why the worrier that you thought had left your life was suddenly back here now. Officer Jeon looked a bit awkward as he distanced himself from the two of you, merely smiling politely at Jeonghan before turning to you with the same kindness he’d shown you all night.

“We’ll be in contact if we need anything else,” Officer Jeon looked at you before sending you a pleasant smile, the young man leaving you and you boyfriend in the foyer together.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Jeonghan smiled at you, taking your arm gently to lead you out into the cold, you were still in a bit of shock at what was going on but as you felt the bite of the stinging air you suddenly snapped out of it.

“Jeonghan, why are you here?” You asked stopping completely on the pavement outside the police station, “How did you know I’d be here? Did he send you?” You accused clearly paranoid.

“Y/n, no one sent me…” He sighed softly, “Let’s just get to the car first, okay?” He tried to reason with you, but you shook your head.

“No, why are you here? You asked a bit incredulously staring him down, “Why did you tell them you were my boyfriend?”

“The station called me,” He raised his hands in defence trying to ease you a bit, “My number was still down as your emergency contact, from that hospital visit last year, they called me once they realised you were gone…you’ve been gone for four days.” His voice was gentle as always, speaking to you much like you would speak to a child how was throwing a tantrum.

Getting a proper look at him, your heart clenched slightly as you realised, he was still in his work clothes; his typical hospital uniform was a stark contrast to his skin tone, he’d gone out of his way to be here.

“All of your friends were calling me asking if I’d seen the news or heard from you and I see you’ve been involved in a shooting?” He furrowed his brows with stress, “Then I randomly get a call from the police saying that they’ve found you and that they’d like me to come down to the station to pick you up? It’s more of a question of what the hell have you been up to?” He snapped at you.

You looked at him and for a brief second you could feel your body deflate; your hands reaching up to wipe over your face as you physically felt the stress start to take over your body – Jeonghan didn’t have to come here and that was clear but your breath was still shaky as you tried to calm down a bit. The scratch of the bandages across your face as you dragged your hands down them didn’t phase you one bit as you looked at your companion with glossy eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just…” You stuttered softly, looking around; after 4 days of just mental mishandling, you found yourself finally breaking, your voice cracking slightly as you bubbled up.

Placing your hands over your eyes again you mentally ran through the list of people that you blamed for all of this; Sehun making his grand appearance top of the list and much to your distaste, you found yourself wishing that maybe you would have been better getting offed like Jaewoo had, the mental image of him laying there glaring at you with his lifeless eyes very much ingrained into your memory forever. In your despair, you could feel a hand tugging your arm gently, your body this time welcoming the warmth the hug brought; Jeonghan was shushing you softly as you let some tears leak from your eyes for the first time in a few days.

“It’s okay,” He hushed you softly, rubbing the back of your head tenderly as you weaved your arms around his waist, “You’re okay now…” Your shoulders were shaking not just of the cold anymore, but the overwhelming emotion that had been bubbling up within you the last couple days.

You weren’t sure when Jeonghan started leading you back to his car but before you knew it he was gently making you sit down in his passenger seat, before quickly jogging around to the driver’s side – his car was a lot warmer than the outside that you felt yourself melting into his seats, your eyes glaring at the interior that you hadn’t sat in for a long time. The door slamming didn’t have you looking at him but his sigh as he started the ignition did – his gentle voice melodically running through the vehicle.

“You don’t have to talk to me about it, but what happened…?” He probed you lightly, glancing at you as he turned on the car but didn’t put it into drive, he was met with your imminent silence however as you opted to look at his dashboard and the little trinkets that he kept there for memories sake.

“Silence, okay…” He sighed leaning back in his seat, running his hand through his long hair – his blonde hair now touching his chin, a far cry longer than the last time you’d seen him, “Look, about the boyfriend thing…” He began tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, a nervous habit of his.

“They just called me and asked if I was since I was your only emergency contact, I agreed because I know you don’t have an immediate family in the city…” He explained softly, as your eyes drifted from the little figure that usually danced in the sun to him, “I don’t want you to think that I’m trying anything, I swear...” You sighed softly.

“It’s okay, Jeonghan…” You mumbled, “I was just surprised that’s all, it’s been a while, no?” You tried to smile but you imagined that it looked a lot more pained than happy.

He only hummed with a smile as you put the car into drive, “It has been a while…”

Once upon a time, you’d feel a sense of love when he’d pick you up from random places; back when the two of you were pathetically naive and hoped that you’d last through it all because, in your heads, you’d know each other so long why couldn’t you last a lifetime? But now, you just felt a small ache in your chest looking at you, it was an ache that wasn’t at the forefront anymore, but it was still there like you assumed it would always be for someone that you used to love. Because as the police had guessed, Jeonghan was your boyfriend at one point – it something that had ended last year after trying too hard to make it work for many years, but he was there in your life at one point as a significant other. Looking at him driving you home, you wondered if he felt the same way that you did being in the car with him? The two of you didn’t end off badly but you also didn’t end off on the best foot, he as you had expected him to, had put his work before you – he was also a doctor in training so it was a given, but sometimes you could still feel the stick of hearing that someone you loved wasn’t whiling to put you before something.

It was a childish breakup on your part, one steeped in insecurity since at the time you weren’t sure what you were doing with your life – to be with someone so set on their goals was a lot to handle and while now you weren’t sure still, you had matured enough to know that people don’t always get put first, other things do matter. Jeonghan didn’t bother to try and press more questions out of you or force you to answer anything, he merely just drove back to your apartment in silence.

The police station wasn’t that far from your apartment building, but the drive felt never-ending as you kept your eyes on your ex-boyfriend; he looked nice in the early winter morning, nice and a lot more tired than you remembered, you felt bad that he had to come to pick you up – as much as you loved your other friends, you knew none of them would pick up the call from a random number. It was just dawning on you that since you’d been let go by Sehun, you didn’t have any of your possession; your phone, wallet etc were all in their possession and would you ever get those back? Sehun had made it very clear that he never wanted to see you again, you were nothing in the problem he was currently having. The jolting of the car pulled you back to reality as you realised that Jeonghan had parked at the back of the building where Baekhyun and Chanyeol found you – the car that you stole was nowhere to be found, even though you were still wearing the man’s jacket.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” Jeonghan asked softly, “You do have to if you don’t want too, I can call someone for you if you’d like?” He quickly added

“Jeonghan,” You said softly, smiling slightly, “It’s okay, you can walk me up...” You said gently, almost as you were soothing him.

“Are you sure?” He frowned softly taking the keys out the ignition, you chuckled faintly unbuckling your seat belt.

“Yes,” You said opening the door, “Now come on.”

It was cute to see him scurry out the car to catch up with you, but you were powerwalking to the building door; grunting softly as you shouldered it to open it.

“They still haven’t got that fixed?” You could hear the amused tone in his voice as you scoffed.

“No, I just like shouldering heavy doors for fun,” You rolled your eyes, holding the door for him to walk past you; you smiled faintly as you caught a whiff of his aftershave, the comforting smell he used was still there. “Does that mean the elevator is still out too?” He questioned looking at the metal contraption.

“No, that works” You sighed softly, walking to the piece of trash that most of the time actually didn’t work, “I just don’t trust it.” You confirmed pressing the up button, hearing the fowl ding that it screeched out.

The two of you stood there in silence side by side as you watch the numbers of the elevator countdown to the lobby floor, the peeling paint around the thing wasn’t the most appealing but it was expected considering you lived in an 8 story pile of shit.

“I thought you were going to move,” Your face physically hardened listening to him break the silence, remembering that you were going to move with him.

“Couldn’t afford it,” You gritted out slightly, “Especially can’t afford it now, my work did just get shot up.” Jeonghan winced slightly as you snapped.

“Sorry…” He mumbled as the elevator opened up, the pale-yellow light bouncing off the walls of the confined box, showing all the shitty graffiti and the deprecation of it.

You rolled your eyes as you stepped into the death box, your arms wrapping your stolen jacket tightly around you, reaching out you nudged the button for the 5th floor and listened to the monotonous lady in the speaker announce that the doors were now closing. Jeonghan was lent against the other side of the space, watching your forward-facing body with curiosity; he looked out of place in the elevator to hell, too clean and too put together to belong in something so decrepit.

“Where did you get the jacket?” He nodded to the jacket that was clearly 3 sizes too big for you, breaking the silence again.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…” You mumbled, tapping your foot impatiently.

“Try me,” Jeonghan smiled softly as the doors opened, his thin frame bypassing you and out the metal jaws to the hallway.

Shaking your head, you followed him out, watching your breath dance in the cold air of the hallway – why you chose a building where all the halls were balcony’s you’ll never know but it made living here so much colder. Jeonghan and his long legs were already at your front door, looking at you with a fond smile as you trudged down the hallway.

“Do you have a way to get in?” He quizzed looking at the old piece of wood.  

“Yes,” You grumbled, reaching down to lift the slab of concrete next to your door; fingers plucking out your spare key like it was a treasure.

Jeonghan was just staring at you as the door opened, his lip drawn between his teeth like he wanted to stay something – you, however, were looking into your apartment, grimacing slightly at the last time you were here. It hadn’t looked like it had been touched, so the police hadn’t been here, but you wondered if anyone else had been? Sehun and his men had your keys after all. Walking in, you kicked off your shoes with a sigh – the ache in your legs from wearing your boots disappearing as your feet settled into some slippers. Jeonghan was just waiting by the door, however, leaned against the frame looking at you.

“I’m not too keen on leaving you on your own, honestly,” He said as you tossed your jacket off, the feeling of his eyes very present on the back of your head.

“If that’s your way of asking to stay you just have to say so,” You grumbled, looking over your shoulder at him, tweaking an eyebrow, “Just come inside, you’re letting a draft in” You sounded like a grandmother as you pattered your way away from him and into your small kitchen, your body stopping suddenly at the door at something on your counter.

“I’m just going to use your restroom,” You heard behind you as you grunted in response.“I’ll make us some tea, just make yourself comfortable,” You stuttered softly, trying not to give anything away but you were tentative as you took a step closer, sending a small smile over your shoulder for good measure.

The lights were off, but you could see a large cylindrical object sitting on the counter – something balanced on top of it. It didn’t look deadly, but you took slow steps towards it anyway, your fingers deftly reaching out to touch it and you jumped back slightly when you felt cold glass come into contact with your fingers.

“What the…” You mumbled confused as you walked back to the door to turn on the lights, your brows furrowing.

Sitting on your counter was your tip jar from the bar, but only this time it was stuffed to the brim with money, you were practically vibrating as you approached it again. You could see through the glass the various bills that filled it, a lot more than you have probably made while working there – and perched on top of it all was a cream envelope, your name very neatly written on the front. Sliding the card out of it, you gulped softly as you read the note, the writing on it practised and neat to the eye.

‘A small compensation for your troubles – KJM’

Your eyes bulged reading the note, your fingers flipping the card around to see if anything else was written – it was clear apart from the writing and a symbol on the back, the same one that Baekhyun had engraved onto the butt of this gun. The flushing of the toilet had you jumping back to life as you quickly scooped the jar up, eyes widening at how heavy it was before shoving it into a random cupboard just in time.

“Everything okay?” Jeonghan asked from the door, as you whirled around forcing a smile on your face.

“Yeah of course!” You yelped out of panic, “Just wondering where I put that tea that I like that’s all” You lied, leaning against the counter, Jeonghan only shook his head at you, walking into the kitchen.

“I’ll get the water; you find your tea.” He was already making his way to your kettle when you asked something else.

“Is the couch okay with you?”

Honestly, waking up the next again morning felt like a dream, being back in your own bed for the first time in days and getting to look at your dull ceiling while listening to your neighbour’s shower through the walls was the height of mundanity but it was your comfort and while these were very real things – looking around your room you were pulled back into a sense of reality. It was about 6 hours since you fell asleep and the sun was prevalent in the sky – it was the first time you saw proper sunlight in days, but it was also your first day not such in a shitty little room with a bunch of people keeping you captive, it was refreshing but also terrifying.

Jeonghan and yourself weren’t up long last night talking, the two of you merely having a cup of tea while he told you about his day – he wasn’t someone you’d expect to have in your apartment again and for a second you did feel a bit normal but as your parted ways and he took residence on your couch you were reminded that this wasn’t the life that you thought it was. Right now, you were broke and out of job – you had decided that you were going to touch the money that had been left for you, not knowing where it had come from and that killed you inside, but today was a new day, and it was a day that you knew you’d need to spend job hunting.

As expected, your body ached when you eventually sat up in bed, your hand reaching to your throat which felt tight and dry; your body had truly spent the last few days going through it, and Jeonghan let you know that when he decided that before you went to bed that he’d clean up the wounds that you’d gained from your forest stunt properly; his professional hands cleaning up your own. He didn’t touch Chanyeol’s handy work on your knees, but you could see the confusion at the bandages being done a lot better than the ones than you had done, but still, nothing was said – it was confusing with him already.

You were a mess when you finally got out of bed, your pyjamas scrunched from the semi-sleepless night you had and your head thumping with a migraine from an empty stomach; it had taken you about 2 hours to fall asleep, your mind too busy to suppress the thoughts of the last few days, and you were feeling it now, but sleeping again wasn’t an option, the clock on your wall telling you it was 1 PM. You felt sluggish moving around your room, picking up an old sweatshirt to pull on to cover yourself from your guest but when you did eventually open your bedroom door it was a bit of a waste.

“Jeonghan…” You furrowed your brows looking out into the living room before listening out for the shower.

Silence.

A part of you wanted to feel upset over the fact he’d just up and left you, and a part of you wanted to be a bit angry that he didn’t bother to leave a note; but the main part of you just felt the tingle that you were alone again, his neatly folded blanket and pillow resting gracefully on the edge of the couch. For felt like someone who had lost their love as you sat on the couch touching the blanket softly – even though a bit of time had passed since you broke up, being around him again was nice, Jeonghan could make you feel at ease. Before you could get caught up in your heartbreak, your stomach did the talking for you and you decided that it was probably best to eat something – the cold floor of your kitchen seeping through your socked feet as you set about making something to eat.

A cup of tea and a large omelette later, you sat down at your small dining table and looked at the junk mail that was piling on the other end of it; a few bills and student loans glaring you in the sea of beige envelopes, getting a job was something you were going to have to do quickly – your bank account wouldn’t sustain you longer, not that you had a debit or credit card to use considering you were walletless. You felt satisfied when you pushed your plate away from you, thoroughly stuffed with food and your cold fingers clinging to whatever heat your mug could provide for you that you almost didn’t consider getting up when the door killed your silence.  Three quick knocks pulled you from your comfort; glancing at the time you were a bit confused at who it could be, but you placed your mug down anyway; glancing at the counter you snagged a small knife just in case.

Tiptoeing to the door, you cursed slightly as you remembered that your door didn’t have a peephole, but you rested you hand on the doorknob anyway, taking a deep breath you readied yourself, the knife behind your back as you flung the door open, your face falling as you saw sight at who it was.

“You.” You seethed as the clunk of the knife dropping behind you sounded out, your eyes narrowing on the person on the other side of the door.

“Uh… Me?” Chanyeol was confused for a second at your response, but it was quickly wiped off his face with your fist lashed out; landing straight on his nose as his head ricocheted back with a yell sounding out his mouth in shock.

Truthfully, your grievances weren’t with Chanyeol at all; there were with his boss, but the difference was that he was here and Sehun was not.

“Fuck.” Chanyeol yelled holding his nose with a wince before looking at you, “What was that for.” He yelled at you, holding his nose in one hand and a bag in the other, the rustle of it prevalent as he gestured wildly.

You glared at him, looking around the hallway before grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him inside the apartment – the door slamming behind him as you shoved the grown man into your place.

“What was that for?” You snapped, pushing him a bit, “You left me to die, you asshole.” His eyes widened slightly but you kept going.

“Pushing me around,” You pushed him again, “Telling me what to do,” Another push, you were pushing him further into the apartment in anger like a crazed woman.

“What the hell was all that,” You shoved him one last time in anger, your chest heaving with exertion as you tried to rip a hole in him with your eyes.

Chanyeol was shocked, to say the least, his eyes wide as plates as you took in your anger; you had been obviously very timid the last time he’d seen you, but it looked like this whole thing had caused you to truly snap.

“Okay, let’s calm down…” He tried to be diplomatic as he wiped the small trail of blood from his nose, you could throw a punch, “I’ll explain, just don’t push me again.” He grumbled placing the bag on a random chair.

Junmyeon was the diplomat of everyone, he did the talking; Chanyeol was often just the muscle that talked with his fists and guns, and if this was anyone else, they’d be floored for touching him. But obviously looking down at you, he could tell your anger was justified.

“Talk.” You demanded, jaw set; you reminded him a bit of Sehun at that moment, it wasn’t often that he got angry but when he did it was terrifying. Except, when you scolded him it felt like a sister or a friend, Sehun could probably take off his head.

“Okay, listen,” He raised his hands, “What happened in the warehouse, I did know that we were going to use you as bate like that, but!” He pointed his finger cutting you off as you looked like you were about to shout at him again.

“But I didn’t know they were going to do that to you!” He quickly continued, “I didn’t know about them planning to bag you like that, my orders were just to get you in the car quietly and take Byung-Chul out, I swear!” Chanyeol yelped as you launched a pillow at him.

“You’re still an asshole,” Your voice had quieted slightly but you still sounded pissed.

“If you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at Baekhyun and Sehun.” Chanyeol tried to reason with you, “I had no part in the planning, I promise” You pointed your finger at him looking like you wanted to saw more before it curled back into your fist, your mouth set into a thin line.

“Why are you here,” You touched your head softly, grimacing.

“I have a few gifts,” He said a bit softer, gesturing to the bag asking if he could reach into it; to which to nodded. Grabbing the dark plastic, he pulled out a box holding it out to you; your eyes registering it as a new phone as you gaped slightly.

“Why are you giving me this…” You frowned, it was the newest model and it recognised it as expensive instantly.

“Junmyeon,” Chanyeol shrugged like it was nothing, “Also Kyungsoo had to take apart your old one just in case anyone tried to track it.” He added as you politely took the box out his hand.

“I…Thank you,” You were still frowning but Chanyeol just reached into the bag, pulling out your wallet and shaking it at you, “Believe this is yours as well,” He tossed it to you, which you barely caught.

“I didn’t think I’d get any of this back,” Your eyes were a bit wide as you looked at the wallet still in perfect condition.

“You almost didn’t,” Chanyeol hummed at you, “Baekhyun was a bit salty you stole that money from him and almost took what you had, Junmyeon stopped him though don’t worry,” He frowned slightly at your shocked face.

“Also,” He reached into the bag, holding a document out to you, “Read this carefully,” He sighed.

“Why?” You questioned, looking at the fancy manila envelope – it was matt black with silver detailing’s, a tiny silver lightning bold embossed into the middle of it.

“Just read it and turn up to Electric Kiss tomorrow at 3 pm,” Chanyeol didn’t look happy at telling you that but you gaped at him.

“Electric kiss? That fancy club on the Upper-East side?” You looked like you were about to catch flies with your mouth, “Why do I have to turn up there.” Chanyeol scoffed softly.

“Another one of Junmyeon’s acts of kindness,” He lied to you, but you didn’t have to know that, “Your first shift is tomorrow, someone will let you in.”

“What,” You squeaked, your eyes wide as plates now, “Why is he doing this for me?”

“Let’s just say, Junmyeon likes to keep all his cards together,” Chanyeol’s lips pursed together in a look you couldn’t place, it was vague, but you nodded anyway.

“I…” You stuttered slightly before you got yourself together, “Thank you…” you nodded honestly, Chanyeol only shrugging in response.

“It’s no big deal,” Chanyeol smiled slightly before a small silence fell on the two of you, but Chanyeol didn’t look like he wanted that.

“How are you doing?” He asked honestly, brows pulling together slightly, “Considering everything?” you sighed.

“I am…” You struggled for words slightly, not sure how you really felt, “I’m alright, just everything is a bit much, I had to talk to the police and –,“ He cut you off.

“Don’t worry, I already know about that” Chanyeol smiled at you slightly, “I’m glad you’re okay, honestly,” He nodded looking sincere.

“I’m sorry about hitting you,” You winced, noticing his kept wiping blood from his nose and his eye was looking a bit red, “I just panicked that’s all,” He waved his hand.

“No no,” He started, “I get it, I would have done the same thing,” He chuckled.

“Next time just don’t swing your fist,” He explained, “You’ll never know who’s behind the door,” You laughed softly at that.

“Shame you weren’t Sehun or Baekhyun then huh?” You tried to joke but the sound of the lock turning had you furrowing your eyebrows.

Chanyeol sensing your confusing reached for something in the band of his jeans, his face turning slightly as he kept an eye on the door; his arm reached out like he was about to usher you behind him but you nearly dropped everything in your arms at the sight of the blonde from earlier walking through your door with a bag.

“Jeonghan, what are you doing here?!” You jumped, looking at him a bit shocked; Chanyeol glancing between the two of you with his brows stitched together.

Jeonghan was in different clothes than before and looked a bit more put together than last night, but his face was confused as yours as he glanced between you and Chanyeol; who still had his arm in front of you.

“I noticed last night your fridge looked a bit empty, so I ran home to get changed and get you some groceries before my shift…” He placed the bags by the door as he kept his eyes on you and Chanyeol, “Who’s this?” Jeonghan locked eyes with Chanyeol who looked like he was staring him down.

“Oh, this is Chan…” You were cut off by Chanyeol who glanced at you, straightening up.

“Someone that needs to go,” He answered for you, glancing at you before locking eyes with Jeonghan.

“Sorry, I can’t stay and meet your friend,” Chanyeol walked to the door, quickly brushing past Jeonghan before tossing over his shoulder, “Remember what I said,” He left you with that before he parted, not bothering to say goodbye.

Jeonghan, who had been following Chanyeol with eyes looked very concerned as he turned back to you, “He wasn’t bothering you was he?” To which you shook your head.

“No,” You told him honestly, looking at the now shut door with furrowed eyebrows.

“He’s my friend, he was just dropping by…”

In a perfect world, Sehun imagined that his men were perfectly well-mannered people who did as they were told and didn’t act like idiots – but sadly Sehun lived in a reality where his men where his brothers and most of them acted like complete fools who just happened to know how to do their job.

“She did WHAT,” Baekhyun howled with laugher as the 9 of them sat in the large parlour of the compound in the late afternoon, talking and trying to unwind a bit from the last few days; most of them had finally got some well-needed sleep as well.

“She hit me,” Chanyeol grumbled annoyed as he held an icepack to his nose, Sehun was watching his men play around with from his chair; a glass of whiskey glued to hand but even he smiled at that.

“Dude, she’s smaller than you,” Minseok snickered slightly into his drink, “How did she manage that.”

“She just opened the door and…” Chanyeol mimicked a punching motion as Baekhyun smirked wildly from beside Yixing, the latter laughing softly at his younger brothers; his posture much the same as Sehun’s.

“I’ve seen you take out two grown men and you get taken out by her?” Kyungsoo scoffed softly, an amused look on his face; something that all of them tended to reserve for Chanyeol, “Make it make sense?” He smiled.

“Did she at least take the gifts?” Junmyeon asked, sitting off to Sehun’s left with Jongdae, who as always decided to just listen to his brother bicker, Jun had opted to have a cup of coffee than something stronger.

“Yes,” Chanyeol grumbled, sinking into the couch he was on Jongin patting him on the back slightly with a smile, “She was a bit confused, but she at least knew where the bar was so…”

“Make’s our job easier,” Baekhyun chuckled downing his drink, “And you get to see her in that lovely bar uniform we have,” He raised his eyebrows suggestively at Chanyeol who rolled his eyes.

“Remind me why I left you in charge of Electric Kiss?” Sehun hummed softly to his brother who was surprisingly happy today.

“Because I throw an amazing party,” Baekhyun grinned, “You’re utilising my talents.” Sehun rolled his eyes at that.

“Talents,” He scoffed, placing his drink on his side table, “It doesn’t take a genius to throw a party,” He eased into his chair.

“You know what fun is?” Minseok jeered slightly but it had no ill intent to it, Baekhyun laughed at that.

“Please, he’s has a stick up there for years,” Baekhyun grinned, “Your little socialite not scratching your itch anymore?” Baekhyun had a look in his eyes, something Sehun nonverbally warned him to cut it out with a look, but alas the man kept going.

“Your little bartender will be working the VIP section, your favourite spot,” Baekhyun looked almost evil as he smirked, “Maybe you can talk to her like a man, I think you’d make a thrilling pair… That’s if Chanyeol doesn’t beat you too it.” His eyes filtered to the other man as he spoke.

Sehun had been putting up with Baekhyun’s teasing for hours now, while he made up scenarios about how things were going to go down, but he couldn’t be farther from the truth. He wouldn’t lie to himself and say that you weren’t attractive, it was something he noticed back in the bar when he first met you; you had the bite that intrigued him, but as everyone knew by now, Sehun’s life was being put on the line here by some mysterious new gang, thinking about being with anyone wasn’t something he was thinking about. But Baekhyun was determined to play some sort of matchmaker, even if both parties where not whiling – he knew he was trying to get on Sehun’s ego by using Chanyeol as a potential opponent, but the smaller man couldn’t be more wrong about how Sehun was feeling.

“Good luck,” Chanyeol cut in, “She’s got a boyfriend,” That didn’t phase Baekhyun, however.

“Interesting…” Sehun thought to himself, trying to imagine who your type of person would be, you seemed a bit too fiery to be with someone timid.

“Oh, how the plot thickens,” He sang slightly as Yixing nudged him with a smile to cut it out.

“Surely he must have been worried,” Yixing cut into the conversation, “Did he not question why you were there?” Yixing gave off the aura of being worried about Chanyeol but Sehun knew that he was thinking of whoever this was could potentially be a threat, vengeful boyfriends were the worse.

“He just returned from getting her groceries,” He rolled his eyes, while Baekhyun playfully cooed.

“Whoever he is,” Junmyeon hummed, “He better not get involved with what’s going on, you think she told him anything?” Sehun laughed softly at that.

“I think she knows fine well to keep quiet,” Sehun smirked softly, taking a sip of his drink; remembering his last warning in his dining room.

Truthfully, he hadn’t thought of you since he left you in that warehouse, but he did get questioned about what he whispered to you; he remembered his apology before he left you with a bag over your head, and for a second he wondered if he really did mean it, you hadn’t done anything to wrong him. Yes, you were just a bit difficult to handle, but you hadn’t done anything asides blow the window out his car, and that sure as hell wasn’t something you smothered someone with a bag over.

“His name’s Jeonghan or something,” Chanyeol sighed softly, as Baekhyun took in that information, a tiny smile building upon his face.

“Duly noted…”

Eventually, the time you had with Jeonghan was cut short, as he had to go to work for the next day or so – his attention being required elsewhere as your attention made the day turn into the night very quickly. Truthfully, even though you were confused at the opportunity given to you; you couldn’t help but be a bit giddy at the thought of your new job, Junmyeon knew some very powerful people if he managed to get you a job at the prestigious ‘Electric Kiss’ it was bar notorious for hosting the richest people in the city, and while it wasn’t a career you still saw it as an opportunity to use. You were that giddy that you turned up to the bar half an hour early, wearing your most appropriate skirt and top that you could muster – it wasn’t the designer stuff that people here wore but it was still nice.

‘Electric Kiss’ was a modern bar that had themes of vintage Europe running through it; from the black, white and silver colour scheme to the 1920s style French canopy’s that lined the outside, it had a very expensive feel to it. The document that Chanyeol gave you, had a small rundown of what you’d be doing, and you found out that things like uniform etc would be provided for you, it was just the case of having the confidence to knock on the front door. It took a second of deliberating but eventually, you bit the bullet and gave two swift knocks, only a second passing before the heavy black wood door opened to reveal a very pretty but very intimidating woman on the other side.

“You must be Y/N?” She questioned as you took her in, she was gorgeous; she had a gentle but also very strong face and an extremely pleasing voice to listen to.

“Yeah, that’s me…” You gulped slightly as the woman suddenly smiled her whole face lighting up, welcoming you instantly by opening the door; it was a stark contrast to neutral face that you smiled a bit.

“Welcome to Electric Kiss” She gestured behind her, her stance gesturing to the huge dance floor and bar that took up the bottom floor of the building, “I’m Joohyun, but you can call me Irene if you want” She stuck her hand out as soon as you walked in, your own taking it in a shake as you gaped at the dance floor before turning to her with a smile.

“Two names?” She smiled softly at that, tapping her name badge that was pinned to her nice uniform; a suit vest and skirt that fit the vibe of the bar.

“Yes, safety precaution” She chuckled melodically as you tilted your head, “Just so no one that comes in can find us outside of work,” You pulled an impressed face.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find you a name,” She winked, gesturing for you to follow after her, “Since you’re here early I’ll give you a small rundown of the bar, I hope you’re prepared for your first shift” She sang softly as you followed after her.

“Yes, of course,” You smiled eagerly, practically skipping after her, quickly sliding through the bar door she held open for you to get behind.

The actual bar itself was completely made of glass so that everyone could see all the bottles, the attention to detail blowing you away as each bottle had a light under it so the glass would light up and glow; a blacklight hung above them so they glowed in the dark light of the bar. Joohyun seemed completely in her element behind the bar as she quickly tapped on the fancy cash register; the screen lighting up with various tabs before she turned and grinned at you, her arm leaning against the back of the bar.

“Let’s run you through this, then we’ll get you dressed for your shift,” She honestly was one of the friendliest bar workers you’d ever met, as you nodded ecstatically at her, her gentle eyes loving your eagerness.  

Joohyun was a fantastic teacher as she breezed you through Electric kisses till system and taught you the ropes of their bar, obviously, you had experience from bars so you picked it up fairly quickly but she wasted no time in showing you the system and teaching you any speciality drinks that they made; carefully showing you how to make them and showing you the book you can check if you forget anything. She assured you that you’d never be alone on the bar for a while since the place can get really busy, they tended to have 2 or 3 girls at any time manning the place unless you were in VIP. She commented with a wink that you would be alone there but if you played your cards right, you’d get tips that would pay your rent for a month.

She overall was completely lovely to you, even when it came to putting on your uniform; she helped you make sure you were presentable and even touched up your makeup for you, making you were ready for the night, she was going to be your supervisor but she was going beyond what you’d expect, or maybe you just weren’t used to kindness like that?

You were left alone to put everything in your new locker when you sent a text to Jeonghan; who had softly demanded to know that you were okay and that the job was safe, he was impressed that you managed to get a new one so quickly but his worrying warmed your heart slightly. It had just sent when Joohyun yelled through the back in an amused tone that your first customer was here, your brain kicked into gear and a smile instantly painting itself on your face. However, you weren’t prepared for what was behind the velvet curtain that hid the back of the bar; the smile melting off your face slightly at the sight of your “first customer”.

“Hello,” Baekhyun twinkled his fingers at you in a greeting with a smirk, Joohyun rolling her eyes softly as she polished glasses off to the side of the bar, you felt a nerve in your neck twitch slightly as you approached him from behind the bar.

“Baekhyun,” You tensed out, the smile on your face clearly fake, “What a lovely surprise to see you here…” You trailed off, wanting nothing more than to give him the treatment that you gave Chanyeol yesterday.

“Now,” He tutted softly with a playful face, “Is that any way to act to your boss?” Your eyebrows shot to your hairline at that.

“Boss?” You stuttered softly, Joohyun cutting in with an eye roll.

“Hmm, surprising right?” She smirked, “Idiots can run clubs now? Who would have known?” Baekhyun side-eyed her at that as you felt anger build up in you. Chanyeol knew what he was offering you and he didn’t tell you?

“Enough of that you,” Baekhyun sassed her back, “Now, I’d like for my newest employee to get me a drink before we open.” You laughed dryly with a slight smirk.

“What would you like,” You rested your hands on the edge of the bar, looking at him while he took the liberty to look you up and down in your work outfit, whistling lowly with a smirk.

“I’ll take a shot of tequila,” He smirked at you, leaning closer to you, “The good stuff.” He eyebrows jumped suggestively, as you smiled at him, reaching under the bar to place a shot glass on it before turning around to grab the tequila.

It was a fancy crystal bottle that was on the top shelf but the heels that Joohyun had given you made it easier to reach, your body turning with the expensive bottle, and instantly reaching out to pour it. A devious smirk painted itself on your face once you poured it, Baekhyun’s hand reaching out to grab it but yours were quicker as you snatched it up; knocking it back as Joohyun laughed loudly at what she was watching. Baekhyun was shocked for a second as you dropped the empty glass back into his waiting hand, the warm burn running down your throat.

“Fuck, you’re mean,” Baekhyun breathed shocked before he smirked, “I want you on VIP tonight.” Joohyun whistling lowly with a laugh at that, as you smirked softly.

“Here 2 hours and she’s already stealing my gig,” Joohyun taunted with a laugh, but Baekhyun merely patted his hands on the bar as he stood up.

“You’re still my number one,” He winked playfully at Joohyun who rolled her eyes at him, “Make sure she’s prepped for the night, I’ll be in my office making a few phone calls” It was weird to see him in business mode but he still parted ways with a smirk and a “Bye ladies.”

Joohyun looked at you with a smirk as he left, “You know each other?”

You rolled your eyes at that, swiping the empty glass off the bar to get cleaned.

“Don’t start.”

When Joohyun said she’d take you up to VIP you didn’t expect for her to take you to a completely different floor of the bar; an upper-tier that looked down over general admissions through a massive glass wall that had a private bar just as big as the one down the stairs but stocked with more expensive alcohol that you almost gagged at the prices. You had come at just the right time; the bar was opening early tonight seeing as they were hosting a birthday party for some rich girl so by the time you were taken up more of the workers were filtering in. You had met a very nice girl called Sooyoung who went by the name of Joy, and by the bright smile on her face, the name fitted her well.

Joohyun, or Irene as you had to call her on shift, had informed you that you would be here up yourself for the night but she would come and check on you every so often; nothing was different up in VIP in terms of the bar except the stocking of drinks and that there was a wine cellar in the back for any customer that wanted a specific bottle with your hands being handed the keys to access everything, including the small staircase that you could use so that you didn’t have to walk through the bar. It seemed a lot chiller up here, the sound of the DJ setting up muffled slightly through the glass, but not in a way that meant you couldn’t hear the music.

The place was lined with expensive couches and chairs, with the odd pool table and regular table spackled around the place, but it wasn’t something you were going to pay attention too; VIP didn’t tend to get messy, and if it did there were people to clean it. You were busing yourself with cleaning glasses when you heard someone over the speaker system say that the bar was now open for business and everyone was to get to their assigned stations, you were set in that department but what you weren’t set on was having a customer so soon, the sound of the bar stool scrapping against the titled floor snapping you into work mode.

“I’ll take a whiskey please, top shelf,” A familiar voice echoed in your ears, one you’d heard it in every kind of light now; whispered, yelled, taunted. You practically spun as you whipped around, your eyes wide as day.

“Sehun…”

[spcncershybrid]

Dead?-Spencer Reid Imagine Part Two

GIFS ARE NOT MINE!

Spencer Reid X Mikaelson!Hybrid!Reader

Criminal Minds X The Originals

(Summary: After believing your brother has been framed you and your sibling try to get to the bottom of it.)

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: This won’t make sense if you don’t read part 1. Probably one or two curse words.

pt. 1  pt. 2  pt. 3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! It can either be crossover (scroll to my first post to see who I write for!!) or just a normal imagine! Also thanks for a lot of likes on my first post in the ‘Dead’ mini series I genuinely appreciate it :))

Rebekah and I enter Rousseau's and grab a seat at the bar. “Nice you see you back here. I was starting to think the Mikaelsons went extinct.” Camille says, passing Rebekah and I a drink. “Don’t worry it’s not poisoned.” She says laughing and walks away to attend other people. “Why do you believe our brother was framed Y/N?” Rebekah aasest taking a sip of her drink. “Well for starters my team and I came here to investigate murders of people being drained and suddenly waking up and leaving. When we got there the detective was immediately drawn to accuse our family and made Spencer and I call Matt Donovan. So I gave Klaus a warning after but the detective told me not to. But that’s not the crazy part Bekah! She made my brain almost explode! She’s a witch. She knows, well thinks the Mikaelsons are apart of it.” I say quickly gulping down my drink as it slightly burns my throat. “What was the witches name?” Rebekah asks fully, gulping her drink and stands up. “Greenwood.” I say standing up with her. “I believe you but we need to figure this out before your team decides to tear down a village to understand our family.” She says as we exit Rousseau's. We speed over to the family house and enter. This place hasn’t changed. “Klaus!” I exclaim as I set my jacket down. “Great another sibling who will forcibly give me an interrogation.” Klaus says emerging from the study. “Let’s get this quick so you can go to your mundane life with your human boyfriend who seemingly doesn’t know about your family secret nor of your siblings.” He continues grabbing a stool and sitting on it. “I’m not here to argue Niklaus seeing that has definitely worked in the past. I’m here to help you. I think you’re being framed by a witch-” I start. “Great more witches.” Klaus says clapping his hands. “Let me guess they’re the one leaving bodies on our bloody doorstep.” He says standing up. “Her name is Mallory Greenwood and I think she has help.” I finished. Elijah comes into the room glancing at Rebekah and I before walking up to us. “I heard the conversation, sorry to intrude, but what has this witch done that you believe our brother is innocent.” He says before standing next to Klaus. “She didn’t want me to warn you. Also my team believes I’m a Mikaelson, although I am, I told them I was a Gerard. I left my things at the station but I can’t go back there Elijah. We have to do this the only way we know how.” I say to him softly, nearly tearing up. “And what way is that?” Klaus questions. “By fighting fire with fire.” I say grabbing my jacket and exit with my family on my tail.

“Where are we headed?” Rebekah says speeding to my side. “The station I can show you the witch girl. Then we go back home and act like normal, human normal. If they decide to arrest all of us we need to stick together.” I say turning to face them. Elijah and Klaus look amused at the plan. We all speed to the station. Elijah and Rebekah instantly head to open the doors. “Wait!” I say, grabbing them and place Klaus’ hand on my shoulder. “Invisique.” I say turning us all invisible. We step inside carefully to not draw attention to the opening door. I spot Detective Greenwood talking to Spencer. I feel my blood boil a bit but brush it off he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. “Who’s that?” I hear Rebekah whisper to me. “My boyfriend and the witch. Actually let’s all step out and I’ll go in alone.” I whisper back guiding the circle of invisible people outside of the station. I let go and we all appear slowly. “Okay I’ll go in and do what.” I say facing Rebekah and Klaus as Elijah wanders around. “I would say compel the little witch to give us our answers.” Klaus says clasping his hands together. “I can’t compel her in front of them are you insane!” I exclaim looking at Klaus like he's grown five heads. “I would’ve done it but I think they already have wanted posters printed out for all of us.” He says pointing to all of us. “I’ll just go in and talk to my team and if I get stopped by the detective I’ll compel her.” I say straightening out my jacket. They all nod and I start heading inside towards the team. “Welcome back. Cleared your head.” I hear Derek say laughing. I laugh slightly and grab my gun and badge, putting them in their respective places. Hotch and JJ look at me confused, Spencer and Emily just sigh in relief that I’m back. “Hello the Mikaelson family is outside.” A deputy says rushing into the room. “What!” I blurt out. The deputy smirks delighted. I roll my eyes and head out not worrying about my team. “I know you can hear me.” I hear the deputy say. I stop just outside the door as it shuts behind me. “Warn them your team dies.” He continues. “I will shove a wooden stake so far up your ass that the person that turned you would feel it.” I say clenching my jaw. “I have a proposition, an eye for an eye, I will give you Mallory for your stupid family.” He says. “What about my team?” I ask. “They look mighty delicious, especially the skinny one, what’s his name Dr. Reid.” He pauses for a moment. “Fine I’ll give you your team and Mallory for your family.” He says. I turn back and open the door. I glance towards the deputy smirking. I run over to him and grab him by the neck pinning him to the wall. “Threaten my family and team I’ll have your head strung up like a trophy at Mikaelson Manor to remember the idiot that tried to strike a deal with me.” I spat into his face my words stunning him. Hotch and Morgan pull me back as the deputy falls clutching his neck coughing. “Et dormient donec redire.” I whisper looking at the deputy. He falls snoring softly. I shrug a Morgan and Hotch off of me and run out of the station. I run out seeing my sibling dead on the floor, obviously a neck snap. I wait for a moment as they come back to life. “Who did this?” I ask them. “A tall guy that was canoodling with the witch. Melinda?” Rebekah says standing up. I automatically know who she's talking about. “Mallory? But we don’t have to worry about him he’s asleep until I get back to the station. We just have to figure out what she wants with our family.” I say as Elijah and Klaus get up. They both look at me confused. “Let’s just go home and figure this out. Get Marcel and Davina, potentially Kol and Freya so we can stop all this mess.” I say speeding off to the manor.

_____________________________

We enter the manor dropping our things on the couch and head towards the kitchen. The front door opens and familiar voices drown into the kitchen. “Explain to us in detail of what is going on.” Davina says immediately. “Hey Dav nice to see you too.” I say laughing. “But in all seriousness I think Klaus is being framed by a detective and a deputy. One is a witch and the other is a vampire, I think.” I say. “So this whole thing can end one or two ways. She kills all of us or we kill them.” Marcel says entering the conversation. “We can’t die but they can. So I vote we kill them.” Rebekah says hopping off her stool raising her hand. Klaus seems to agree but I immediately shoot down her idea. “No Rebekah because we can probably get arrested.” I say lying slightly. I don’t care for the fact that we get arrested but for the fact that my team has no idea this world or lifestyle exists. “It’s something else spill.” Rebekah says walking up to me. “None of my team knows about all of us being vampires, hybrids, and witches. I can’t just freely compel them, it feels wrong. They’re like my second family. They’re human and I like that they aren’t involved in our crazy messed up life. Of course one day I would’ve had to tell them but I didn’t expect that moment to come so soon.” I admit to her sighing as a heavy weight gets lifted off my shoulder. They all look at me sympathetically. “Tell them once this mess is all over. Then if all goes well we can all have dinner.” Rebekah says hugging me for a moment. We all stare at each other for a moment before a series of knocks abrupting the silence. “Mikaelson family! FBI!” I hear Derek say. “Let’s all get arrested I guess.” I start before hearing knocks again. “We can compel for freedom; all things are off the table. I will tell them about it later.” I finished as the door burst open. Spencer looks at me with pure confusion on his face as he comes over to arrest me. “I know my rights Spence just get this over with.” I say as he cuffs me. “Why?” He says his voice cracking slightly. “There’s a certain side of me I’ll explain after this is done.” I say as a tear slips out. He sighs softly guiding me outside into a police car. He jumps into the passenger's seat. I look out the window catching eyes with Davina. ‘Now’s the time Dav make us all invisible.’ I say telepathically. She nods. ‘On the count of three’ I say. ‘One’ I say looking around. “Y/N tell me what’s going on?” Spencer says. “Spencer I love you just know that.” I say breaking my gaze from Davina looking at him in the eyes. “What I’m about to do will make no sense, don't even try figuring it out.” I say tearing up. “You probably won’t see me for a while depending on how this goes.” I say as a tear slips out. He wipes the tear. “What do you mean?” He questions his voice laced with concern. “I love you Spencer Reid.” I say. I shift my elbow rolling down the window. I look over to Davina who’s getting loaded into a cruiser. She makes eye contact as I nod towards her. “omnes supernaturali creatura invisibilis verto.” We say aloud making every supernatural creature around us turn invisible. Spencer looks stunned looking around to see if anyone noticed what he saw. All the police officers and my team members look around stunned. No one says anything. I break the handcuffs and step out of the car noticing all the car doors are open. Thankfully they all got the memo. “Hotch what the hell was that?” Derek says aloud. “I have no idea.” Hotch answers confused. “Reid are you okay?” Derek says jogging to Spencer. “They said they loved me. I didn’t say it back. Now I have no clue if I’ll ever see them again.” Spencer says sadly running his hand through his hair. Trust me we will.  I sped over to the police station hoping that’s where my family went. “Are you all here?” I whisper knowing if they’re near they can hear me. “I am.” I hear Marcel say. “Here.” I hear Elijah, Kol and Klaus say in unison. “Present!” I hear Davina and Rebekah say. “Where’s Freya?” I question. I wave my hand in the air making us all visible. All of them appear except Freya. “Are you guys the Mikaelson family?” An officer says coming up to us. We all nod staring at each other. “Here.” He says handing me an envelope. I open the envelope pulling out a card. I turn to my siblings opening it. ‘Meet us at The Abattoir 8PM.” I drop the card on the floor looking at all of my siblings. This is a full fledged war. Let the games begin.

[derireo]

fair & square / itaru chigasaki

Request: yohoo~ , read some of your works and absolutely loved your writing game! how about a one-on-one gaming session with itaru that ends a little spicy if you don't mind :D Your works are always a joy to read

Hehe, thanks, anon! I hope you enjoy!

「 Read on AO3 」 「 1.4k words 」

"Not gonna lie, but you're totally pissing me off right now." Itaru grumbled through his headphones. You were able to hear the aggressive clacking of his keyboard as you snorted in response to his complaint, leaning back in your chair with a relaxed sigh.

The two of you were in your respective rooms when your boyfriend suggested that you two 1V1 each other, and whoever won got a prize. You didn't want to back down when there was so much at stake, and being confident in your own abilities, let Itaru choose the game you two would be playing. Luckily enough for you, rather than choosing a game that required 120 fps or guns, the blondie actually chose one of the more classic games. A revamp, sure, but still a classic.

"Sucks that you're losing to me in Bomberman, huh?" You mocked him, a delighted laugh coming deep from within your chest as you witnessed his player get crushed by the falling blocks due to one of your items blocking his way to escape.

A groan was heard through your headset, and then a slam of a fist hitting wood. As much as Itaru was skilled at a variety of games, his skills were rusty when it came to this childhood classic. A few times you'd see his character jerk in the wrong direction and then get caught up in a spot that wasn't ideal, and even more times where his quick reflexes weren't enough to save him from the strategically placed items you scattered across the board.

It was all so very amusing and you were winning by a landslide, but Itaru just refused to give up.

"Want to take a break?" You asked seriously though after you finished up your last round of the match with him. You could hear Itaru sigh on the other side, and with how he was staying silent for the next few seconds you were just about to put your gaming session on pause and turn off your monitor to let it cool down.

"Nope. I'm gonna win and I'm gonna get that prize." He mumbled through a bunch of snacks snapping between his teeth. The determination in his voice briefly held you back from telling him what was really happening, but you told him anyway.

"You do know that you've lost, like, I don't know. Five matches at this point, right?" Your smile was tentative as you brought your boyfriend back to reality. If he really did want to keep playing until he won, you two would have to continue going against each other until very late at night. Maybe even one in the morning at the earliest, considering Itaru's proposition popped up not too long ago.

"Yeah, and?" He said through a mouthful of food on the other end of your headset. You sighed, not having the heart to scold him as you scooted back into your desk while stretching your arms above your head. The stretch was very much needed, and your pleased hum had Itaru munching louder on his chips.

He wasn't going to get distracted by such pretty sounds.

"Please don't complain if you lose again." You begged him to which he only hummed in response. He wasn't listening anymore.

You knew he was serious when he decided to stop talking and started the next match without asking if you were ready. The cramping sensation in your fingers were slowly growing with how long you two have been playing for the whole day, but you didn't want to set aside your pride just yet.

You were winning fair and square right now and the only one who had a problem with it was Itaru.

The soft tapping of your keyboard and the click of your mouse was the only sound in your room as the both of you focused on the game on your computer screens, eyes squinted to focus on the monitor while your tongue stuck out in concentration, knee bouncing anxiously as you tried your best to win the round and get Itaru's will to break.

You nearly screamed out in surprise when you had just barely escaped one of his items, your hand and mouse flying out to one side to quickly move out the way as the barriers began to close down on you two. The menacing sound of the blocks thudding down on the screen made your heart race inexplicably faster and both you and Itaru made a prompt decision to lay down an item at the same time, the barriers restricting how far away you two can move.

The clock was ticking faster on your screen and with bated breath and closed eyes, you waited for either yours or Itaru's bomb to go off.

Your body flinched at the sound of the explosion, eyes still closed. You were too scared to look, but the frustrated sigh Itaru let out from the other side of the headset told you the end result.

Slumping in your chair with relief, you pressed pause on the game to talk to Itaru who seemed to be silently fuming. "Do you still wanna play?" You questioned him gently, smile bashful as you listened to him rummage around his room in annoyance as grumbles left his mouth. You could practically see him rubbing his hands over his face as he tried to keep his cool, but before you could say anything else, his headset cut off and you could hear a door slam outside.

You flinched again at the sound and quickly took off your headphones when the door to your bedroom flew open to reveal an obviously upset Itaru, blond hair dishevelled and lips pouting. He tried not to slam the door on his way in, but the door frame still managed to shake when it shut, his eyebrows creased in frustration as he quickly approached you.

His steps were filled with purpose as you tried to back away from him on your chair only for his hands to fly out and stop you by gripping onto the armrests, his smile nearing an emotion akin to wickedness as he towered over your cowering figure, an annoyed groaned escaping you once he had you cornered.

"I told you not to-- mmf!" Your sentence was cut off when your boyfriend grabbed you by the front of your shirt and yanked you forward until his lips clashed with yours in a fiery kiss, his tongue already poking out to invade your mouth. With how rough he was kissing you, all complaints you had had flown out the window as you melted under his overwhelming touch, soft moans spilling from your mouth.

His weight against the chair began to push you back until you both hit the wall and with your hands going numb held onto his neck with your arms instead, dragging him down to pull his body flush against yours as your legs unfurled to wrap around his hips. His hand on the armrest came up to brush your hair back from your cheek and cup your jaw in his heated palm, lazily nudging your head back as his teeth came out to tug at your bottom lip.

"I hate playing games with you sometimes." He whispered against your reddened lips as he tugged you off your chair until you were hanging off of him, his strides hasty as he brought the two of you to your unkempt bed so that he could feel your pliant body beneath his calloused fingers.

"It's not my fault you suck." You shot back, laughing as he shot you an edgy stare. His hands found your wrists and pinned them down to the bed while the look of betrayal on his face only made you giggle more and he did his best to keep his cool. He had already lost his temper once or twice today; he couldn't do it a third time.

You peered up at his uncharacteristically sulking appearance and smiled, absolutely smitten by how adorable he was. You didn't fight against the grip he had on you, but you twisted your arms just a little to regain his attention.

"If you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked instead of trying to win."

Once again offended, Itaru squinted down at you and bumped your noses together, mouth moving to kiss the corner of your lips.

"Now where's the fun in that?"

[fanficshiddles]

Caught in his web, Chapter 29

Loki looked down in disgust at the man who was grovelling at his feet, clinging onto his trousers as he wept and begged for his life.

‘Please, Mr Laufeyson. Please. I will do anything. I have a family to support. Please, please.’

Loki rolled his eyes and looked at Ethan and Samuel, who moved in and hauled the man away from Loki. They held him back, on his knees.

Loki stood up and strolled over towards the pathetic man and circled him. ‘Begging and crying like that will get you nowhere, Matt. As you know, I am a fair man. And I feel I have been more than fair with you, have I not?’ He came to a stop on front of him.

‘Y… yes… You have.’ Matt whimpered.

Loki crouched down and clasped his hands together. ‘So why do you think I should be even more lenient with you, after all the help and extra time I’ve already given you?’

‘Because… because…’

‘Because…?’ Loki asked in a condescending tone, raising an eyebrow as he waited for his answer. ‘See, you can’t even think of a reason why I should give you more time. Because you know I’ve been fair enough so far.’ Loki stood up and walked over to his desk, opening a drawer.

David and Ben were sitting at the side, watching. They shared a look with one another when Loki pulled out a dagger.

Matt tried struggling but Ethan and Samuel held him steady as Loki walked slowly and menacingly back towards him.

‘You have ten seconds to give me a damn good reason why I shouldn’t dispose of you right now.’ Loki said as he spun the dagger up in the air and caught it. Then started to move behind him while counting. ‘One… Two…’

‘Please. My family! My kids and wife. I can’t leave them, please.’ He sobbed.

‘Three… I said a good reason.’ Loki growled, towering over behind him.

Matt started to panic now. ‘I will pay back double next year!’

‘Four.’

‘I know the owner of a seafood restaurant down by the river, I can get you free meals for life!’

‘Five.’

‘I don’t like seafood.’ Ben commented, making David chuckle.

‘Six.’ Loki moved in on Matt, grabbing his hair tightly he forced his head right back so his neck was exposed, he placed the sharp blade against his throat.

‘PLEASE! PLEASE!’

‘Seven.’ Loki held him tightly as he started to really thrash around.

‘My wife has cancer! The money was for her treatment!’ He cried.

Loki paused for a moment. ‘Eight.’

‘Please! They need me to work, or they won’t be able to pay their bills.’ He cried.

‘You didn’t pay me back, Matt. I cannot let you go, as unfortunate as it is. What kind of example would that be to others?’

‘Please, I’ He was cut off when Loki slit his throat.

‘Nine, ten.’ Loki stood up and stepped away from his body as he fell forward to the floor with a thud. His blood pooling around him.

Ethan and Samuel moved in straight away to clean up. Loki strolled over to his desk as he pulled a napkin from his pocket to clean his dagger.

‘Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with your food?’ Ben grinned.

Loki chuckled. ‘Where would the fun be in killing him instantly? It’s nice to see them squirm.’

‘Why do you not use your gun? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use it before. It’s much less messy and quicker than a knife or a dagger.’ David asked.

‘I prefer to get up close and personal, a gun makes it feel so… boring and cold. With a dagger you can feel the resistance in their body as you force it into them.’ Loki grinned wickedly as he finished cleaning his dagger.

‘On that delightful note, I better get going.’ Ben said, standing up. ‘Thanks for your help, Loki.’ He shook Loki’s hand.

‘Anytime. See you soon.’

Ben said bye to David then headed out.

‘I just need to make a quick call.’ Loki said to David, who nodded.

Loki called James. ‘James, it’s Loki. Find out what kind of treatment Matt Simpson’s wife is receiving. If she needs money, make sure she gets whatever she needs. Also make sure her mortgage gets paid off and there’s no outstanding debt… Oh, and put a few grand into a college fund for all her kids.’

‘Sure thing, boss.’ James said, taking note without asking any questions.

‘Cheers.’ Loki hung up and turned to David.

‘That was nice of you. Surely Matt has now cost you an awful lot?’ David asked.

‘Perhaps. But got to put good into the community, haven’t I?’ Loki smirked.

‘True.’ David nodded.

Loki’s phone pinged and he checked it. He smiled when he saw it was from Chloe.

‘Do you like pasta?’ He asked David.

‘I do. Why?’

‘I discovered last week that Chloe makes a fantastic chicken carbonara. She’s just asked if I will be home for dinner as she is planning to make it again. Fancy joining us?’ Loki asked.

‘Sure, that would be great.’ David nodded.

Since Chloe had made him the pasta last week for the first time, he had been desperate to have it again. So he was secretly delighted that she offered already.

-

Chloe felt a bit nervous when Loki text back saying that David would be joining too, so asked if there would be enough for the three of them.

Of course, she had said she would make enough, but part of her was regretting that she had text Loki in the first place about dinner.

But she was pleasantly surprised when they returned and she got to know David a bit better during dinner. He was actually really nice and charming, Loki seemed nice and easy with him too, so she knew that he was safe to be around.

‘That was absolutely delicious, thank you very much, darling.’ David said, wiping his mouth.

‘You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.’ Chloe said happily.

Loki moaned and sat back on his chair. ‘It certainly was. That’s my new favourite meal, definitely.’

‘You’re just saying that.’ Chloe giggled.

‘No, honestly. I actually think it might be better than sex.’

Chloe almost choked on her drink and David chuckled. ‘I never thought you’d say that food was better than sex.’ David teased.

‘Well, maybe not quite better than sex.’ Loki looked at Chloe and winked, making her blush.

David rolled his eyes and looked at Chloe. ‘You’re lucky, I’ve had to put up with him for years!’

Chloe laughed. ‘How long have you known each other?’

She knew that out of all the men she had met, who were his supposed business partners, that there seemed to be more of a friendship between Loki and David.

‘Since secondary school. He was a bad influence on me.’ David grinned, pouring himself more wine.

‘I think you’ll find it was you who was a bad influence on me.’ Loki corrected.

Chloe wasn’t sure if it was the wine that was giving her more confidence or if it was just the excitement about hearing stories of Loki, but she couldn’t help but ask.

‘What was Loki like as a teenager?’

‘Oh god.’ Loki shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘A total nerd! Really into space and science. Aced pretty much all of his classes, except for PE for the first few years. He could barely run from one side of the football pitch to the other.’ David was in his element talking about Loki.

‘Really?’ Chloe looked at Loki with her eyebrows up.

Loki sighed. ‘It’s true. I was not into anything physical at all when I was younger. I was a skinny weakling.’

‘That soon changed though. It was, what, year three and he started working out hard. Put the entire class to shame by the end of that year.’

‘Did you two get up to mischief or was Loki a teacher’s pet?’ Chloe smirked, she knew by the look Loki gave her that she was in trouble later, no doubt. But she was finding it far too much fun.

‘As I said, David was a bad influence on me. When I started hanging around with him, I got into trouble more. The teachers were perplexed though, I was the smartest bad boy there was.’ He said proudly.

‘Highly intelligent, eventually strong and rather wicked. A dangerous concoction.’ David said. ‘I remember once when he almost drowned a poor kid in the swimming pool.’

Chloe’s eyes widened. ‘What? Seriously?’

Loki shrugged. ‘It was swimming class and he pulled a girls bikini bottoms down. She was horrified.’

‘Well… I guess he did deserve something back, but drowning him?’ Chloe gasped.

‘Correction, almost drowning him.’ Loki said with his finger up. ‘And in my defence, the teacher wasn’t overly pleased with what he did either. I didn’t get suspended or in too much trouble for attempted murder.’

Chloe just face-palmed, not knowing what to say really.

David told more stories from when they were younger. Chloe was ecstatic to be hearing about them. From Loki’s first crush on a substitute teacher where he brought her fruit almost daily and was heartbroken when the regular teacher came back, to trying his first cigarette and almost choking on it, never smoking again. Then the one Chloe thought was one of the best, was how he started up a business where he gave younger students answer sheets for exams that he made up himself, charging a fiver for each one.

‘He actually earned a good amount of cash from that. What was it, near five hundred quid?’

‘Just over six hundred, actually.’ Loki chuckled, smiling as he thought back of that fondly.

‘Bloody hell. So you’ve always been a business man.’ Chloe said.

‘I guess so.’ Loki nodded.

The three retired to the living room for a while and had a few more drinks. Then David decided to head home, joking that his wife would chop his balls off for being here for dinner without her.

After Loki saw him out, he returned to Chloe and sat down on the sofa. He was delightfully surprised when she put her drink down and moved along the sofa to drape herself across his lap, twisting his tie around her fingers.

He chuckled and rested his hand on her chest, the span of his hand so large that his fingers brushed against her neck.

‘Are you drunk, doll?’ He teased and started stroking her neck softly.

‘Not too drunk, no. I’m just… happy.’ She said honestly, looking up into his eyes.

Loki smiled fondly down at her. His other hand stroking her hair. ‘Well, I am very glad to hear that. Because I am too.’

[ejzah]

A/N: The next chapter of the Agent and the Lawyer. Loosely based off of Absolution. I’m trying something a little different with the structure and not following the episodes so closely.

***

The Agent and the Lawyer, Part 18

“We should run together every morning,” Deeks said as he and Kensi rounded a bend in his favorite beach side path. “There’s this great little convenience store where we can grab coffee and a mostly fresh donut. The coffee’s not great, but the owner is super nice.”

Beside him, Kensi was matching him stride for stride, her breath even despite the pace. She smiled at his description, shaking her head.

“It’s not a good idea to follow a particular routine. It’s too easy for your movements, habits, and location to be tracked,” she explained. He knew how important it was for the team to maintain relative anonymity, but sometimes he thought they all took it a little far.

“It’s just coffee Kens. I’m sure no one suspects me of being a big bad fed or cares where I go.”

“Don’t let Sam catch you saying that. He’ll rip you a new one.”

“So does that mean no coffee?” he asked. It was definitely a part of his routine and gave him the energy to run all the way back home. Kensi groaned and tossed her head back, but didn’t put up any further protest when he led them to Sandune Convenience store. “Hey Frank!” he greeted the owner, heading for the canisters of brewed coffee.

“Hi,” Kensi said, looking a little uncomfortable as she waited for Deeks to fill a paper cup for her. Frank shot them a curious look, but didn’t comment.

“I ran five miles today, Deeks told Frank. Kensi snorted at that and said,

“Uh, that’s a big fat lie, he ran three.”

“So rude,” he said, amused at how quickly Kensi had abandoned her reservations when given the chance to make fun of him.

“I thought you were buying me a donut,” she reminded him.

“Of course, my lady.” He grabbed two Boston Creams and an apple fritter because he knew from past experience that when Kensi finished hers, she’d likely try to steal part of his.

After chatting with Frank for a few more minutes-his oldest daughter would be graduating from high school soon-they headed back on to the path. Their pace was leisurely now as they munched on donuts and drank coffee. It was significantly more enjoyable with Kensi beside him.

“Hey Marty!” A woman called out as she ran by. Deeks waved back without thinking.

“You know, if I was the jealous type, I might be worried about all the women who know you, wherever you go,” she said, gesturing with her cup.

“What can I say, I’m a friendly guy,” he said with a shrug, grinning around the rim of his cup. It was adorable when she got jealous.

“Mm, be careful you don’t friendly yourself into singledom.” He rolled his eyes at her warning and nudged her with his shoulder.

“Oh, come on, Kensalina, you know I would never cheat on you.”

“I would hope not,” Kensi said, looking a little uncertain. “You would certainly regret it if you did.”

“I would never,” he repeated seriously. “You have my promise. I’m not that kind of guy.” He saw her cheeks flush a little and she glanced away as an awkward silence grew between them.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and Kensi reached for hers, seeming grateful for the distraction.

“Hey Eric,” she said. “Uh-huh. Ok, we’ll be there in a bit.” Deeks heard the faint sound of Eric’s voice raise in a question. “Oh, yeah, I promised Deeks I’d pick him up.” She forced a laugh and hung up quickly.

“Smooth,” Deeks teased.

“Shut up. Hetty wants us in OPS. Something to do with a dead antiques dealer.” She tossed her trash in a nearby can and then bent down to tighten a shoelace. As she stood back up, she turned to face Deeks, her expression playful. “I’ll race you back.”

Not waiting for him to respond, she took off at a sprint, her delighted chuckle floating behind her.

“Man, you are so whipped,” he said with a smile as he tossed his own cup and followed after.

***

“Where’s Deeks?” Callen asked when Kensi walks into OPS about an hour later. After they got back to his house, they’d made out in Deeks’ garden for several long minutes. Kensi had been highly tempted to call off work and finish what they’d started a couple weeks ago. Common sense had prevailed and she’d reluctantly left before she took Deeks up on his offer to join him in the shower.

She didn’t mention that to Callen though and shrugged.

“He got called into the office for a last minute legal emergency,” she explained.

“What exactly qualifies as a legal emergency?” Sam asked.

“He mentioned something about a CPS case that isn’t going well. He’ll come as soon as he can.”

She found herself turning to make comments to Deeks more than once while Eric, Hetty, and Nell explained who Sebastian Renner was. It felt weirder than she expected without Deeks by her side. She’d grown used to his comments and, often, inappropriate jokes, as well as his unique insight into cases.

***

Kensi smiled involuntarily when she walked back into the bull pen a couple hours later and saw Deeks sitting at his desk.

“So what’d I miss? he asked.

“Our victim, Sebastian Renner, was an arms dealer, a bunch of spies from other countries are now vying for his black book, and Hetty has an ex-German Police officer named Branston Cole, who might have pertinent information,” she summed up. Deeks looked a little stunned for a second and then nodded.

“Wow, this is the last time I take a morning off. You guys bring out the fun cases when I’m gone.”

“Well, now you get to join the fun too,” she said with a smile, grabbing her gun and slipping it into her waistband. Deeks hadn’t passed his firearms training yet, so he just watched. “Callen and Sam got chased out of Renner’s home by his dogs earlier. Now that they’re gone, Hetty wants us to see if we can find anything else.”

“So did you make it here on time this morning?” he asked, smirking at her. “You seemed a little disorganized and, uh, distracted when you left my place.” She smiled sweetly, pretending she wasn’t currently remembering the feel of his chest, damp with sweat, pressing into hers.

“I made it just fine,” she answered. “How was your shower?” Her voice was innocent, but she let her eyes drop a bit lower than was strictly polite.

“It was cold. Very cold.” Kensi snickered at that as they walked out.

***

“M-O-U-S-E?” Kensi said scathingly as she finished cuffing the two men she and Deeks had just fought. She rifled through one’s suit pocket and found a DGSE ID.

“What was I supposed to say?” he asked. “I’m not and Agent and I’m not LAPD. You guys were shouting out your little acronyms and I felt left out. Which, reminds me, why the hell did you kick an NSA Agent in the groin?”

Kensi let out an irritated sigh and showed him the ID.

“He’s French Intelligence, Deeks. He was lying.”

“You couldn’t have possibly known that though.”

“I had a hunch,” she said with a shrug. Deeks made an outraged sound.

“A hunch. You don’t kick a guy in the nuts over a hunch!” He felt a little nauseous at the thought and resisted the urge to cover his crotch.

“I recognized his accent. It’s not American.”

“He didn’t have an accent,” Deeks said, horrified for the agent who was slowly gaining consciousness.

“I’m trained in linguistics, Deeks. I know the difference between French and English speech patterns,” she insisted.

“You’re insane.”

“Deeks, you’re acting ridiculous.” He ignored her, shaking his head.

“Sometimes it’s like I don’t even know you.”

***

Kensi watched Deeks from a few feet away. She couldn’t tell what he was saying, but his lips were split in a wide smile as he chatted with Sam and Callen several seats away.

They’d successfully apprehended a German spy named Matthias and the FBI and NSA were looking for the rest of the spies. They’d had to leave Deeks behind since he wasn’t authorized to carry a weapon.

Now they were at a nearby bar, per Deeks suggestions and on his dime. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. After a few drinks, Nell challenged Eric to a pool game and had even shed the little sweater she wore of her think strapped dress. There was definitely something going on there.

The combination of Deeks’ considerable charm, which he was working to it’s full limits, and large amounts of alcohol both had even Callen and Sam more at ease than she’d seen them in a while.

Deeks noticed her watching and headed her way. He looked ridiculously pleased with himself.

“Nicely done,” she complimented him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said innocently.

“You know that once they sober up, they’re still going to ride you.” He groaned, dragging out a stool to sit next to her.

“Yeah, well, unfortunately I can’t use the same methods I used with you,” he pointed out. Kensi rolled her eyes.

“Oh, you are way too full of yourself,” she said. He chuckled, resting his hand on the middle of her back. He probably did it without even thinking, but Kensi tensed immediately. She roughly pushed his hand away, glancing around to see if anyone had caught Deeks’ slip.

Fortunately they all were occupied and she let out a slow breath of relief. Beside her, Deeks had gone silent, making her belatedly regret her hasty actions.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. He scratched at jaw, not meeting her eyes, which always a bad sign. “I just didn’t-“

“No, it’s ok. I get it.”

“The team is here and we agreed not to...” she trailed off awkwardly as Deeks filled in.

“Yeah, no, we agreed to keep out relationship quiet. I just forget sometimes.” He sighed, the sound heavy. Kensi looked down for a second, pressing her lips together as she tried to think of some way to brighten the mood again.

“You want to come over tonight when we’re done here?” she asked as a form of peace offering. So far she hadn’t let him past her living room and that was only after she hastily straightened everything. Deeks allowed a tiny smile, clearly realizing her attempt to apologize without actually apologizing.

“I would, but I have to work on that pro bono case. It’s a mess,” he said. Kensi wasn’t sure if it was a convenient excuse, but she felt a small sinking in her stomach.

“Ok,” she said in a small voice.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Sure.” She tried to tell herself she was overreacting, but couldn’t help notice the distance Deeks kept between them for the rest of the night.

***

A/N: Ooh, unexpected drama. Don’t worry, I don’t plan to have anything terrible happen.

[rosesgonerogue]

Presents

Daminette December Day Twenty-Four

There were very few things in life that could reduce Damian to actual panic; he could count the number of times he’d experienced the emotion on one hand. 

Now was one of those times. 

By some miracle, Damian had found a girlfriend who saw him, not Damian Wayne, not Robin, not the prince of the League of Shadows, but who he was. Marinette was everything that he wasn’t, kind, sweet, optimistic.

Good at giving presents. 

In fact, Marinette was the best at giving presents. Her gifts always showed that she paid attention to the receiver, remembering things that had been mentioned once in a conversation well over a year ago. She also insisted on hand-making her gifts, making them specifically tailored to the tastes and preferences of the receiver. 

It was amazing when you were opening your own gift, but gut-wrenching when she was opening whatever she was given. It could and would never measure up. 

But this year Damian was determined to at least try to give her something worthy of… well, her. The only question was what that would be. 

So, he began his investigation, asking the opinions of various people. He started the questioning with his own family. 

“For Marinette?” Dick thought for a moment. “A package of needles? Some fabric? I don’t know, something like that.” 

“I believe Miss Marinette will be delighted with whatever you may choose, Master Damian,” Alfred said. “I’m sure you will find something suitable for the young lady.” 

“Paris is dangerous with all of those akuma thingies running around, right? Like a taser? I would say a gun, but I think Pixie-Pop would shoot me in the foot if you gave her one,” Jason had said before punching out a garden variety thug. In hindsight, asking Jason in the middle of a job probably hadn’t been the wisest option. At the same time, he probably would have given the same advice wherever they were. 

“Women always like flowers and jewelry,” Father had said dismissively, only for Selina to look at him archly. 

“Yes, most women tend to like those,” she said, eyes staring into Bruce’s soul, “but we prefer things that mean something. Like her favorite flower, or something that will remind her of something you’ve done together. On that note, I’ll be looking forward to what you decide to give me for Christmas, darling.” 

Tim had given the question some real thought, but just as he was opening his mouth to respond, Damian cut him off. “What am I thinking? I’m not so desperate to go to Drake for help.” 

Damian was lost. He even gave in and called a few of Marinette’s closest friends for help, but they only lamented how impossible she was to shop for. He was alone, well and truly alone. 

He came up with an idea. Well, it was closer to half an idea, but it was all he had to go on, so Damian went with it. 

When the time came, Damian wouldn’t say that he was nervous about how the gift would be received, but that was simply because Damian Wayne would never admit to being nervous. In reality he was shaking in his boots. 

“Dames!” Marinette said, rushing towards him as soon as he saw her, arms outstretched. “I missed you so much!”

Damian opened his arms, chuckling lightly. “It’s been a week, Angel.” 

Firm in his embrace, Marinette pouted up at him. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.” 

“And I missed you as well,” Damian said truthfully, pressing his forehead to hers. The two stood like that for a few moments before He reluctantly pulled away. “Come inside, I’d hate for you to catch a chill.” 

“Oh, shall we go inside and play a rousing game of whist?” she teased. “A spot of tea while we’re at it.” 

“I’ve told you before, the way I speak is not old fashioned, it’s timeless,” Damian groaned. 

“Sure, sure.” 

He led her into the parlor of the manor where everyone else had explicitly been banned via Alfred’s orders. They sat down, respective boxes in hand. 

It only took a few moments for Marinette to thrust her box at him. “You go first, I want to make sure it fits.”

So she had made some sort of clothes for him. There really was no surprise there. She likely also had a bag entirely full of gifts she had made for his undeserving family. 

He almost regretted tearing into her perfect wrapping, but he was also eager to see what she had made. 

Time and experience had taught Damian to have high expectations of Marjnette’s work, but what lay inside exceeded that. An olive army jacket lay inside, doubtlessly made of the finest material and fit to his exact measurements, but upon removing it, he found that the back was embroidered in an intricate pattern he would have known anywhere. 

Damian breathed in deeply. “Where… How did you…?”

Marinette smiled. “I got to visit some of my family in China, remember? I did some research while I was there.” 

Sometimes it was easy to forget that Marinette and Damian had ties back to the same country. Grandfather had been a member of an ancient Chinese nomadic tribe, largely lost to history. He had shown Damian a few things he had kept through the years, simply to have some idea of his roots. On the back of the jacket, Marinette had captured the symbols perfectly, down to the exact shades of the colors they would have used. He hadn’t thought that would be possible without the dyes that literally no longer existed. 

“Angel, I… I never thought I would see anything like this again,” Damian said, looking up at her. “Seriously, how?” 

In truth it had involved little more than some time with Fluff, but Damian didn’t need to know that. Instead she smiled slyly. “Just remember never to underestimate women.” 

“We were never in danger of me underestimating you, Angel,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to her hand. “After this, I’m afraid my gift is going to pale in comparison.” 

“I’m sure I’m going to love it, whatever it is,” she said, tilting her head up. “After all, I do love the person giving the gift.” 

“I wanted to get you something that you loved because it’s a genuinely good gift, not because you love me,” Damian said, presenting her with his own (inferiorly wrapped) gift. 

His heart was beating a little erratically while she tore off the paper. “It’s… a book?” 

“Open it and see.” 

“Oh, it’s a photo album! This is so sweet! It’s too bad that we only have a handful of pictures together, but it looks like there’s plenty of room to add in!” 

“Keep looking.” 

Curious, Marinette flipped through a few more pages. There were more pictures as well as letters lovingly placed inside. But aside from that, many of the pages were covered in Damian’s elegant scrawl. It told the stories behind the pictures, as well as the stories that had no pictures. But as Marinette had noticed, there was a lot of room for later. 

“I want this book to tell our story, a story that I don’t plan on ending any time soon. I want there to be volumes upon volumes, because you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Taglist: 

@daminette-december2019 @cravethosecrazysquares @krispydefendorpolice @thesunanditsangel @sonif50 @kris-pines04 @persephonebutkore @tbehartoo @corabeth11 @caffeinetheory @drarryismylife101 @bluerosette23 @weird-pale-blonde-person @mystery-5-5 @heaven428 @thethirdwheelfriend @thetinymoonflower @interobanginyourmom @chocolate1721 @akana-sama @skyel0ve @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou

Again, I’m blaming the fever and the excessive family time. I haven’t had time to write for a hot minute, and it seems like that trend is going to continue the next few days. I love my family but I want to write. 

Also, I was looking into the lore of Batman earlier, and one source told me that Ra’s was a part of a Chinese nomadic tribe. However, the more frequently cited source says that Ra’s was born somewhere in the Arabian Desert. I thought the Chinese thing sounded a little off, but China is also a LOT more diverse than we generally think it is. I’m keeping it as is for now, because the Batman lore is actually a joke. I can pretty much write what I want and there’s probably been something written to back it up. 

[hazbinextgeneration]

Into The Casino Ch15

Well at least now things were starting to move along it seemed. The little naïve gal was FINALLY starting to make progress and he could actually enjoy himself while doing so. Oh she was still clumsy and tripped over her feet or misplaced a step here and there, but OH BOY! It was MUCH better than when they were first starting out and her being so tense all the time. All he had to do was put on a little swing and let her figure herself out a little ways in, not that he was complaining though. He enjoyed this just as much as anyone else and the happy smiles and laughing she was starting to give off was absolutely delightful! She was even starting to get a little better with his presence around her, she still jumped and acted suspicious of him, but the little progress was outstanding compared to months ago when she wouldn't let anyone so much as shake her hand. He was far from done believe me, but he had an idea as to what to do now. Not that his singing and dancing weren't amazing after all.~ They absolutely were astounding and she even said so herself, so why should he even worry about that bit? But he had to confess. It was nice having a dancing partner who actually knew of the dances they were doing, but don't think he was letting her dance swing, the waltzes were actually coming along much better now as well. He would have to commend Cyber for her idea later, she was no longer so reluctant to perform such dances with him...And that's one of the only thing's he was worried about. She had no problem dancing with HIM. Just him. Cyber reminded him that she might be different in a giant crowd of his peers, but he would deal with that when it came.

Right now they had to get ready. So imagine her surprise one day when she egarly got up for today's day of dancing lessons and instead found as soon as she opened the door, Cyber was waiting at the other side holding a box. Amafia blinked and only watched as she came in not even asking. The box was placed on the bed and she began to shift through it. Pulling out what looked like a kit of sorts, some kind of paint brushes, and lastly some kind of shimmering fabric of some sort. The sighed and went to rub her head before looking back to the confused looking unicorn just standing there staring before walking back over to her. She was surprised when Cyber closed the door and began pushing her towards the bathroom. "Go clean yourself up good. And hurry. Boss likes to show up early sometimes to show off." "Show up?" She twisted her neck to look over her shoulder at her before Cyber gave her a small shove into the bathroom. Grabbing the door. "Where are we going now?" She rolled her eyes. "That fancy party of course. And we're both already ready to go. Now hurry up and get groomed up I have to doll ya up before we leave, since last time you had trouble putting on plain eye shadow. Now get done will ya?" The bathroom door was closed shut behind her...and she stood there a moment just blinking at it in surprise. ..Before reluctantly turning with drooped ears to the room and sighed, this would be a long day wouldn't it? And a fancy party was the last thing she really wanted right now. All those eyes peering at her and..and like Lou suggested. He intended on having fun there as well, the sudden fear pooling in her stomach made her jump at the very thought of messing up in front of everyone and embarrassing them both. And it'd be all her fault! And what if something else worse happened from that?!...She shook her head. No, NO!! She wasn't about to fall down that rabbit hole again. Despite the wave of emotions, she sucked in a deep breath and let it out again. Not again. She told herself. She wouldn't let herself go down that path again. Once was too much of enough anyways. So the world of warm water and soap was visited for her, still with the rock in her stomach and the lump in her throat. Cyber also seemed to be lazersharp with her senses and was waiting right outside the door as soon as the door opened again and she was again dragged out and forced to sit down on the bed at she went to work. Something looking similar to a gun but sounded like a vacuum was aimed at her face before hot air was blasted into her face and she flinched back when Cyber went around her body and began shifting her hair around with a hum. Brow raised....The thing was turned off and she yelped again when a brush was yanked through her head. Cyber wasn't kidding when she said they were in a hurry and ignored her small yelps and whimpers at her hurrying through her mane of hair, seriously. Why did women insist on having this? She never understood the thought of it, long hair would just get in the way of battling for your life anyways. But that still didn't stop her from just putting it into a neat fluffed up ponytail, Lou said to make her look nice. Not extremely fancy, so this would do. Amalfia hiss and lightly reached up to poke at the handywork done before she yelped as she was pushed up from the sitting position from the bed and a blue-green blur of fabric was yanked over her head, she gave a muffled whine of surprise before it was yanked all the way down and Cyber set to work straightening it onto her. Before these strange shiny...wing like pieces were retrieved from the box as well. "Hold your arms out." ...She didn't question her at this point and just did as she was asked. Watching as the things were slipped onto her and secured onto her by the smaller female. They resembled butterfly wings with peacock markings. Shimmering blues and greens with the patterns. ..Until something was shoved onto her face and she blinked back through eyeholes through the shimmering mask Cyber was securing into her. it felt as light as the wings accessories added to her and blinked down to Cyber who took a few steps back and looked her over. "...There. God enough." She still didn't have time to get her bearings when Cyber grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door and into the hallway. Trying not to trip over the long train of the dress as she was pulled along and around the corner..Where a certain plant demon was waiting for them both. He was wearing that black cloak again, giving him the look of a true high class villain and he was currently humming and staring at himself in a giant hallway mirror in front of him. Straightening his tie and looking at himself before those red eyes blinked to the incoming two figured behind him and smiled, twirling around just at the flashes of shiny blues and greens stopped in front of him. His smile widening. "Ah! Look at you.~" His eyes glazed over her. Totally worth the souls he paid. "My, my. Now don't you look absolutely delightful.~" She blinked and looked to the mirror in front of them...and froze at what was gazing back at her. He chuckled when her hands slowly came up and touched her face delicately. Cyber did a fantastic rush job in just a short time. "Not that I expected anything less from you two of course. Shall we be going?" She paused. "W-Wait!" She looked back to him. "S-S-So soon? Now? B-B-But that seems so early for you. What about here?" "Disease and Midnight are in charge. I trust them to watch my casino for one day and night. That's how long this whole thing lasts you know, a whole day and night.~" He grabbed her arm and lightly tugged her along as he walked along. "And if anything does go horribly wrong, then we'll leave immediately. Im not stupid to leave them in charge if I didn't trust their abilities now would I?" "N-No. I guess not..b-but why so soon?" His smile curled at the ends. "Simple. The sooner we arrive the better the chances of scoping out the ...competitors we can do. I always enjoy 'friendly' competition, and Im never late to an event such as this. That would be too unexpected of me.~" She rose a brow at what he ment, and turned to Cyber, but the metal guard just straightened herself in the mirror for one quick second before obediently following behind them. Making sure NOT to step on the dress's trail behind her. The pit in her stomach formed the more she thought of all those people around her staring and not knowing what they were capable of, but she hid it relatively enough as he lead her out to the fancy limo, which he was quite eager to have her sit into minding the pieces of her dress and ducked in after her. As the engine started up she had to wonder where exactly they would be going exactly. Her scalp still lightly hurt from Cyber's quick one hour dress up game and she was tempted to rub her head, but she didn't need the guilt of having her hard work ruined on top of the build up of bad feelings already pooling in her stomach. So to pass the time, she looked out the window and watched the famous casino fade away into obliviation as the car sped up...funny, she didn't think the car could go this fast before. The run down buildings of the poor saps and other small businesses around them slowly turned into bigger ones. Much, MUCH bigger ones. She had to bend down to look at them, yup! Definitely skyscrapers along with a lot of other strange looking buildings. Most were in weird shapes and sizes but most definitely BIG. Fancy giant signs were plastored onto each and every one of them, neon signs glowing and strange puns and words were etched into them. 'Dante's Inferno: We heat your hundredth enemy for free!' 'Cat's Eye Children's Center' 'Hell-of-a Good Time'.....By the neon lady she could figure out it must've been a place similar to Rita's and she gave a small cringe at that. But there was one place that caught her eye after a good long while, she blinked and squinted her eyes at it. There was a tower a little bigger than the others, looked pretty shiny too, but what attracted her eyes to it was the spotlights shining around from it and the overall high class vibe it gave off. And she couldn't help but be amazed by the sheer thing. Lou seemed to notice her interested look and craned his neck over to peer at what she could possibly be marveling at...and he chuckled. She jumped and looked at him, not even hearing him come next to her, and he shook his head. "Typical Cyrus. Always one for the dramatics. I wonder what he could possibly have in store for THIS year." "This year?" Her eyes blinked confused at him and he chuckled. "My associate likes to invite all the big names in the second circle to his little shindigs to keep an eye on what new ideas they have and what young blood thinks can easily outthrow some of the more powerful ones. Smart move dequised as a simple high society party, but I do enjoy 'catching up' on what's going on through the grape vine.~ Can't have anyone trying anything around MY area now can we?" "Does that mean that you're..." His head slowly turned to her. "Y-You're one of t-the big cheeses around this neighborhood?" His smile got even more wider. "My dear.~ You are looking at the person who is currently the thriteenth most dangerous man in the second circle of hell." There was DEFINATELY a glint in his eyes and a growl in his tone as he spoke. "But perhaps...someday that will change." She shivered under his look and Cyber had to nudge him to get him to cut it out. "But for now I would much rather have a pleasant evening with you.~" She wasn't sure how to take that, so instead of answering she looked back out the window and watched as the building came closer and closer and just as she suspected, it actually was spotlights shining all around. All around a giant metal fence higher than any she's seen, and right behind him was an honest to goodness almost typical looking backyward. If the backyard belonged to a millionaire. A giant pool shimmered in the lights and bounced off the other expensive looking outside furniture the more the limo passed and she only stopped looking when they suddenly stopped and Lou gently but firmly grabbed her hand as the limo door popped open and he got out dragging her behind him. Cyber following close after. To say she was surprised was an understatement. She was completely caught off guard at the amount of class this building had right in front of her. Because from the moment they got out a red carpet was the first thing they stepped on and Lou didn't even give her a chance to take it in as he pulled her along similar like a mother would their child. But that still didn't stop her gawking at the impressive structure as they walked up towards it. Just like the resturaunt and Rita's club, there was a pair of bodyguards but these demons..OH! These demons looked like they could wrestle a whale and still not break a sweat, they were that big and that muscular compared to herself who was just a twig in comparison. But Lou didn't even look fazed when he reached into his coat pocket and simply presented the pink purple paper he had first showed her advertising the place to him to them. The bigger one of the two took a couple seconds to look it over before he grunted and shifted to open the door for them to enter. SHE. WOULD. HAVE. Stopped dead in her tracks if Lou still wasn't leading her around and her jaw dropped at what her eye beheld on the inside once they made it in. Oh. My. Goodness. IT. WAS. BEAUTIFUL!! You know that grand ball room every little girl dreamed about when they pretended to be a princess? Well how about the paintings of those anceint fairytale ballrooms with cinderella or some other ancient kingdom? Well this was like that. But much MUCH more better. The whole place was alive with golden lights that shined with the BIGGEST crystal chendeleir she's EVER SEEN!! It sparkled against the pure white ceilings and walls and speaking of walls. Giant stained glass windows shimmered with each window showing a different scene or picture. A woman dancing. A giant rose. A man riding into battle on horseback. They were all beautiful in their own way. But as he lead her down the massive marble staircase she instantly took notice of the other voices around them and looked down. Instantly taking notice of the maybe..Fifty or so other demons that were already inhabiting the ball room and it's magnificent floor. She blinked. She'd never seen so many fancy suits or dresses in her life as she instinctively squeezed herself a bit more tighter to Lou's side as the demon rose a brow and gave a slow look around the room. It didn't look like anyone new had joined the fray, good. He didn't have to watch out for any new blood trying their tricks...yet. But there was always threats no matter with or without new overlords making themselves present. And with his and Cyber's combined senses on high alert, he should be fine from any threats for tonight. But Amalfia could sure feel a bunch of eyes on them now as some of the demons looked over in their direction, but some turned away as soon as they saw them. Most of them were a bigger than her and she could barely see past the flurry of sparkling dresses and jewelry. From the very corner of the room there was a band with lots of different demons in tuxes dressed up and playing as one man waving around a small pointed stick stood on a step above the band. He muct've been the conductor for the band. They were playing a rather lovely victorian style-like waltz. Mostly with violins and flutes for now, very calming. And past all the people was the longest table she'd ever seen. And just now she noticed the smell of food pounding her nose. Her eyes glanced over all the sparkling glassware and plates holding MOUNTAINS of food of all kinds and sizes. A giant roast pig, chocolate fountain, rows and rows of fruits and deserts near it. Her mouth just watered at the meer sight of the glorious amount of food she hadn't seen since....NEVER!! Lou could see where her eyes went and he chuckled again. "Ah! So Mr. Early bird is late for once." Lou calmly turned his head with a raised brow to a random demon that was maybe ....THREE?! feet taller than him and covered in gold jewelry among his feathered body. Amalfia froze and Lou could feel her grip tighten around his arm at the much taller demon as she flinched. A lovely lady on either side of the tall bird demon as he rose a brow to her ..then to him. "Picked up another, eh?" She blinked up to him and Lou chuckled before waving him off. "Oh, well things can have a small bump in progress. And it does seem Im still fairly early compared to a lot of others." The taller demon hummed and shook himself out. The gold jewelry glittering among his features as he turned with the two ladies hanging off him. "None the less. I wonder if there'll be anymore surprises in store for tonight." The plant demon merely chuckled as the man walked off and Amalfia shivered at the weird glint he held. "W-Who was that?" "THAT was Cyrus." He calmly stated when he pulled her away. "Great grand nephew of one of the princes of hell and fifth most powerful being in the second circle." She blinked after him before turning to Lou. "He seems like a very flashy character." He laughed and smirked at her. "My dear. He works for his Uncle and he's VERY good at what he does. He's not afraid to show his wealth, it's one of the ways to show your power down here and can ward off comepitors and rivals weaker than you." "So..Does that mean all these demons are o-overlords and r-r-royalty?" She gave another look at the many demons around them and more were still coming in through the doors. If they were really as power hungry and strong as Lou makes them to be...she visically gulped and her ears went back. Cyber rose a brow at her reaction and shot up a look at Lou as if telling him to do something. Cyber was on edge for any blast that could possibly kill him or her. And a blast from a terrified unicorn was the last thing they wanted here, they were trying to keep a low profile after all. So Lou waved his hand around them calmly and stated. "No. No one here is true royalty not even Cyrus. And while overlords such as myself are usually here, I suspect most of these people are as simple the band at play or the cheifs that cooked his food. Most people to attend these things are just weathy business owners, you don't have to be strong persay to be weathy and have power and influence. I just happen to be a mix of the two." His eyes glanced over herself and it took her a moment to realize he was glancing at her dress. "Why do you think I asked for such a design to your dress? Not only does it look beautiful on you, if we happen to run into a certain little birdy, it'll send her into a tizzy hopefully.~ Less business for someone who throws a tantrum.~'' ........She blinked. And rose a brow. "Are you saying that...You asked them to make this dress to make fun of Rita and get her to argue with you to lose business?" "That's the point! And I don't see why you would complain. You did say you didn't like her place, and this isn't like on the surface. Down here you have to use your head. Even with clothes." She blinked and looked back around her. Well...She guessed that made sense. These were demons after all, you kinda expect fair and square to be a foreign concept down here, so it would make total sense for someone to do that and it was one way to do so without physically putting anyone in danger. In a way, it was kind of him...Rita? A feeling of guilt suddenly bubbled up in her as Charles full history lesson smacked her brain into overdrive as the memories of what he said came flying back to her. But....the guilty feeling wasn't about BEING with Lou. The guilty feeling was about about NOT TELLING Lou if that made any sense. Sure she didn't really lie to him about anything, and it certainly wasn't anyone's fault. Disease didn't know and telling him might get the snake in trouble, and even though she kinda getting tired of the guy peeking around corners at her, she didn't want him to get in trouble. And what would poor Midnight think? Sure she was always grumpy, but she really did care about Disease. In their few encounters when Disease just hugged the small which and said nothing but good things about her, there would be a red over her face or maybe once and a while a very, very small smile. She couldn't really explain it, but she had a feeling Midnight actually liked Disease's flirty words and sweet hugs for someone being so grumpy. And she definately didn't want any bad blood between the two for something she did....But not telling Lou for some reason just felt ...wrong..Really, REALLY wrong. Like telling him what she knew was eating at her. Maybe it was because Lou and Charles were enemies in life and now work rivals, but it still felt so wrong. Her stomach rumbled out and she gave an embarrassed jump at it and looked to the table, giving a hungry look towards the mountains of food avalible. She was rushed out so fast she hadn't had anything to eat for breakfast. And just now she noticed how hungry she was. Lou chuckled at the obvious look she was giving and stopped walking. "Would you like to stop and get something to eat?" She turned up a hopeful look to him and nodded and he turned their direction towards the table. "Well then. Perhaps you could stay there while I find a certain someone I've been 'dying' to do business with." Cyber blinked and almost mirrored the same surprised look the pony did at his offer. But neither said anything until they got to the table and he unfurled his arm around her, with a grin as her eyes instantly hit the small fancy desert cup and gave another look to him. "...Well. You don't need my permission to eat. Have at it!" Her eyes lit up and she excitedly but slowly took the fancy looking cake in a cup with cream and strawberries and began eating it. A plesent smile rising to her lips as she did so- He was interrupted when Cyber pulled on his side and he leaned down. "Yes, Cyber. Did you want something?" "Leaving her alone? Here? Have you gambled the last brain cell away?," she whisper hissed at him. He just calmly smiled. "Cyber. If everyone just sees me cling to her the entire night, they'll definately think Im trying to hide something and by treating her as I would normally treat any 'dates' I bring sometimes, it would be less suspicious. And it's not as if anyone would pay much attention to a small weakling like her...well weak for the moment. This party is about showing off and trying to mooch off the most greedy looking lowlives here. She is neither giving off rich or powerful auras." His smile became wider. "Besides. Nothing is going to happen if you watch her. Will you?" Cyber still looked like she wanted to protest but ultimately sighed and just nodded and Lou patted her shoulder. "See? You're worrying too much." "And I think you're worrying maybe just too little-" "Is everything alright?" He turned back up and smiled at the lady. "Of course. Everything is going to alright. But I must ask something of you, and I ask that you follow the intructions I'm about to give you." Her confusion and worry grew just a little bit more. "W-What is it?" "I have some business scouting to do for a moment or two. So I need you to stay right here and wait for me right here until I come back." one look told him she DID NOT like this idea anymore than Cyber and she opened her mouth to argue but he held up a hand, "Now, I know it sounds like a stupid idea, but you have trusted me more than one would usually do and it's only fair I would ask to cash in that same trust for myself. Wouldn't it?" She opened her mouth again...but closed it with a sigh and simply nodded. Well, he had a point. She asked him for a few things and she supposed standing and waiting in one place wasn't the worst thing to ask of her. He smiled wider. "Good girl. Now Cyber will make an appearance every so often to check up on you so you have nothing to worry about, and if someone does approach you, just act as uninteresting as possible. That usually drives them off. If not, just wave Cyber down. I promise I will be back shortly! Just trust me with this one thing." He turned on his heel and without so much as another word, walked off towards the large crowd. Cyber and her exchanged a quick unimpressed look before she sighed and began following off after said plant demon who easily disappeared off into the sea of demons wearing sparly dresses and tuxedos, not even that tall top hat being seen. And she was left all alone. With nothing but the desert cup in her hands as company for herelf. But as promised she didn't dare move from the spot and instead looked around at the demons for a couple minutes..and coughed. The smell of smoke and perfume wasn't as bad as the state at Rita's, but she still didn't like the smell of smoke or too much perfume sprayed on, so not wanting to look rude and upset anyone she just looked down and ate on the sidelines for the next few minutes, trying to look as boring and uninteresting as possible. One thing she learnt from her time down there, if you don't make eye contact and keep to yourself, you're more likely to be left alone. And it worked no one approuched her or got close except to walk around her to get to the table and she would happily silently move out of the way for the demon, but once or twice had to stop herself from snorting from any cigar or perfume shoved into her nostrils. But over all it was nice. But she couldn't help but flinch at anyone getting too close. Once and a while she'd thought she'd see a glimpse of Cyber peeking out somewhere but she couldn't be too sure, after all it seemed the talking got louder as did the music. They were playing a new melody now. Still sounded like a waltz but more intruments were added like some drums, trumpets, and she was sure there was at least one tuba but the band was blocked from veiw because all of these demons. All the different smells and sights and sounds were starting to become rather dizzy to her if she did say so herself. She also began to lose track of time. How long had it been since she last saw the two? Maybe an hour or two at most now and her nerves were certainly NOT helping in this situation. And not only that, but being alone with your thoughts had a habit of always making you remember certain things. Like that guilty feeling of still not telling Lou anything about her and Charles encounter. She had pondering it for a long time now and came to the conclusion that it would not go away until she said whatever was on her mind, and so it was decided. As soon as she saw him she'd tell him. Tell him, and ask as a 'courting favor' to her to not be so hard on Disease. It might not be the brightest thing but what was the alternitive? Letting the feeling in her gut continue to bother her? She learnt it was always better to keep your mouth shut bout these certain thing but...It was hard to explain, but she had a feeling that everything would be ok. So she just stood there patiently waiting but she did pause when she finally caught sight of a certain plant demon a little ways from her. He was talking with someone and laughed at something he said. Well, she knew she promised to stay but- Like with Disease, she gave a guilty look around but didn't see Cyber anywhere or looking at her...So. She left her spot. And started walking towards him. But a crowd of demons just HAD to move in front of her at that same time and she lost him again in the crowd. Whelp! No turning back now. So pushing into the crowd she went. The music of the giant ballroom gently flowed throughout and between the beautiful decorations wrapped around the walls. The way the candles lit up the surroundings and made the shadows beautifully dance against the walls. The way the smell of delicious food and flowers wafted through the air. The beautiful music mixing with the laughter and talking of the guests around the whole place. It was almost like a dream. Everyone having a great time behind their masked faces, no one telling who they were or maybe that was all part of the game. The fun of not knowing who you were speaking too and being able to be your own person tonight. But maybe she wasn't meant to join the fun and laughter that everyone else seemed to be having. Being maskless and alone wondering the ball was the lonely fate of the girl in the flowing white dress. Blindly walking and circles, moving around. The sounds, the smells, the atmosphere. It was starting to make her dizzy. Everyway she'd turn she would catch a glimpse of a man with red eyes. Very familiar red eyes. Her dizzied mind knew not to be afraid or excited about the way it gazed and pierced her soul. The way he looked at her with those beautiful blood red eyes. Promising only trouble ahead. Well maybe she was looking for trouble, her head was kept on a swivel, always looking around herself in the see of masked laughter. Sometimes she'd catch a glimpse of red or maybe it was just her clouded emotional mind. At this point she didn't know if she was searching for him or trying to ensure she was far from him. But however she put it, the circles and laughter was starting to get dizzier and dizzier. She barely noticed when someone tall and with a smile, bowed to her. Grabbed her hand. And lead her to dance. Maybe it was because she was temporarily blinded by the smile upon his face, or the swirls of the graceful dance they spun. But there was no mistaking those red eyes. Perhaps she was crazy. Perhaps her dizzy mind was clouding any judgement. Maybe she was under some kind of spell from those red eyes. But when those fangs smiled at her- She smiled back.

His brow rose as his body brought her's to a matching slow dance with other blurs around them. "I thought I asked you to stay put. I would've came to get you you know."

"I w-w-was looking for you actually." She wasn't even paying attention to the dance he had pulled her into. Almost perfectly going along with the slow beat.

He chuckled. "Oh really? Were you that desperate to be in my arms, or was someone bothering you?"

Her eyes glanced down for a moment. "N-No..Not someone. Something actually. I g-gotta confession to make."

She gave a small surprised gasp when he suddenly spun her before quickly pulling her back into that same slow circling motion so they could still speak while speaking. "Now what could that be I wonder. Would you mind sharing?"

She hesitated for a moment, staring down again before closing her eyes and taking a slow inhale. Releasing it back out before looking back up to Lou. "I-...I t-talked to Charles when I visited Rita's club."

They stopped. Literally stopped in place as soon as the sentence left her mouth. She stared down frozen at her for the longest time before he chuckled and asked, "Beg pardon?"

She took in another breath. "I talked to Charles about you. H-He-..He told me everything between you two..." Her ears went back. "I-I know you killed him."

"......Do you know?" His mind was already racing with ideas and possibilities from this new outcome. Certainly a lot of bad ones so he'd have to quickly recover and cover his tracks now. What would be the most sappy thing to make her feel guilty and not belei-

"But I don't beleive him." Again his brain's train of thought stopped and he blinked in surprise at her as she finally dared to give a smile back to him. "Well..Not about the killing him part. I do beleive you did THAT. B-B-But about all the other stuff about how you're nothing but a terrible person who only thinks about himself. I don't beleive he was right about that part of you, not fully at least."

.....He blinked. "And...how did you come to that conclusion?"

Her ears perked back up. "By the way you treat Cyber and the others. You put a lot of trust in them and care about what they have to say, that shows you care about them in some way or another. And you treat me as an equal person instead of some object just sitting there to look pretty, which is a glow up from the schmucks that I'm used to being around." He still didn't answer and instead a surprised look came over him. "I trust you. And you're....f-f-fun to be around. And you're polite, and treat me with kindness. ..I-I don't know what you saw in me to take an interest, but Im happy you were so kind enough to give me such a chance...You're MUCH better than Charles paints you as."

He stood there for a moment as the other demons still danced around them. Cyber was giving him a raised brow confused glance from the sidelines, wondering if maybe something had gone wrong- But he quickly cleared his throat and looked off to the side for a moment. A strange fuzzy feeling in his chest. " I-...Well that's very, very kind of you to say so. ...To be honest not a lot of people I've met has said that to me-..." Those red eyes gazed over her in a strange way. "...And if I may return your kindness, you're not as bad a person yourself. In fact, I would say your skills as my newest employee have been improving greatly!!"

Her purple eyes sparkled at the compliment. "R-Really?"

He cleared his throat. "Of course! I wouldn't lie about progress. Now shall we continue? I would like to enjoy myself before I return back to business. I almost sealed the deal with something I think would make a wonderful addition for my business,..and I would appreciate it if you stay with Cyber this time."

"I will. I promise....Hey, Lou?" He hummed. "Thank you."

"For what exactly?"

"For everything."

His 'your welcome' was a smile and leading her back into what would not be the last dance for them that night, and Cyber rose a brow further from the sidelines. Humming to herself and rubbing her chin. Thing's might get a bit more interesting.

All characters except Amalfia belongs to @palettepainter

[heart-of-gold-outlaw]

Welcome Home: Arthur Morgan x Modern!Reader (3/?)

Chapter Three: Dirty Rotten Bastards

Ao3

Wattpad

"So," Dutch says as he walks over to where you're sitting by the campfire. His expression is borderline unreadable. "Hosea told me about your hunting trip."

You wiggle a stick in the air, trying to make it look like a piece of string. "Yep."

"And Arthur told me about what happened in Valentine. With George Foreman."

Snapping the stick in half, you toss it into the fire, watching it ignite with a strange sort of fascination. "Uh-huh."

Dutch sighs and moves until he's standing in your line of sight. "Y/N," he says, voice low and entirely too serious, "you need to be more careful, darlin'. You ain't from here. What'll happen when Hosea and Arthur aren't there to keep you from getting into trouble?"

You shrug. "Guess I'll die."

Of course, of course, the meme goes right over Dutch's head. He stares at you, mouth slightly agape as concern immediately floods his eyes. You internally groan. You'll have to keep reminding yourself that morbid humor doesn't mean the same thing in the past as it does in your time. Still, you stick to your guns and don't elaborate. Let Dutch figure it out for himself.

"And Hosea," he eventually grinds out, "told me about that kind of talk from you."

At this point, you decide to check out of the conversation. If he's just going to lecture, you'll wait for him to climb on his soapbox again. Thankfully, Dutch seems to get the hint and leaves. You sigh. You know he's just looking out for you, as he looks out for everybody else in the gang. Still: it's annoying. You don't need a father. Not right now.

The sun rises over the mountains off in the distance, and you go about getting ready for the day. Abigail and John argue about who knows what, and you find yourself drifting toward their conversation. You know John doesn't do nearly enough to help with Jack. Abigail does most of the work. The thought alone makes your blood curdle. John's a goddamn father. The least he can do is take some responsibility and act like one.

Speak of the devil, John finishes arguing and goes off to sulk. You glare at him as he passes. He doesn't seem to notice, though, which is probably a good thing. Sighing, you decide to check on Abigail. She's furiously scrubbing something or another, but looks up at you when you approach. You watch her try her best to put on a facade.

"How you doin', Y/N?" She asks, straightening up and setting aside the wash. "I know this's gotta be confusin' and all."

"He's a fuck-off," you blurt, jabbing a thumb over in John's general direction, completely ignoring her attempt at small talk.

Abigail blinks, clearly taken aback. For a moment, you wonder if you've said too much, but then you decide it doesn't really matter. You're only speaking the truth.

"No seriously," you continue. "What the hell's his problem? First of all: he completely ignores his kid, then has the audacity to get mad at you—you—when you're the one doing all the goddamn work!"

Briefly, Abigail looks so shocked, you almost want to apologize. But then her shoulders slump and she sighs before leaning heavily against the wagon.

"I don't know," she says. "I guess that's just the way he is."

You feel your eyebrows skyrocket. "Oh now that's some bull. Motherfucker's gonna get a piece of my mind—and my foot—if he doesn't square up."

Abigail blinks again, then laughs. "Now that's somethin' I'd like to see."

Before you can continue, you spy Arthur riding into camp. You immediately shut your mouth. Abigail frowns, then follow your gaze... and you're mortified when her eyebrows shoot up in amusement. A knowing grin spreads across her face, much to your chagrin.

"Well now," she says, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you fancy a certain rough-and-tough outlaw, Y/N."

You snap your eyes to hers. "Not even," you deny, though you can feel your face burning. "Not. Even."

Abigail shrugs and goes back to doing her wash. You look at Arthur as he feeds and waters his horse, then stare at your shoes when he glances your way. When you finally muster the courage to look up again, the corners of his lips are twitching. This, you've come to realize, is about as close to a smile as he gets.

"Y/N," he says in greeting when he walks over.

Your brain freezes momentarily, but you quickly recover. "Hey Arthur... nice weather, huh?"

If there was ever a time you wanted to die, actually die, that was it. Still, you don't bother trying to make a comeback. And lucky for you, Arthur chooses to let it go. Instead, he shrugs it off and starts walking toward the edge of camp.

You follow without really thinking. Surprisingly, you find yourself standing behind him a few feet away from the tied up O'Driscoll. Kieran, if you remember his name right. Arthur gives him a look—and you're suddenly grateful you're not on his bad side. Kieran leans away. You can see him shaking, and the stench radiating from him makes your nose scrunch up.

"Ready to talk yet, O'Driscoll?" Arthur asks as casually as if they're talking about the news.

Kieran groans. "How many times do I gotta tell you? I ain't an O'Driscoll."

"Really?" Arthur raises an eyebrow. "Ain't how it looks to me."

At that moment, Dutch walks over, followed by Bill Williamson. You're not too sure how you feel about Bill. He hasn't outright treated you poorly, but he's not the nicest guy in the gang. Then again, he is an outlaw. "Nice" isn't exactly a requirement.

"Oh who am I kidding?" Dutch says, getting close to Kieran's face. "This boy's not gonna talk. Not yet."

For the first time, Kieran seems to notice you're standing just a few feet away. His eyes find yours, wide and pleading, and your heart breaks just a little bit. You've never really paid him that much attention since Arthur found you in the Grizzlies. He was just some unlucky bastard who got mixed up in a bad scene.

"You want him to talk?" You say as you take a step closer. "Then let's make him talk. Gimme five minutes with him."

Dutch, Arthur, and Bill all stare at you like you've suddenly grown a second head. Kieran, though, just watches you warily. You can tell he can't quite figure out what game you're playing, so you give him your best smile. Honestly, you don't know what game you're playing yet, either. You're just making it up as you go.

Eventually, Dutch shrugs motions for Arthur and Bill to move away. "What've we got to lose?"

He and Bill stalk away, but Arthur lingers for a moment, glowering at Kieran with everything he has. Kieran shrinks back as far as the tree will allow.

"Try anything," Arthur warns, "and we'll have ourselves a dead O'Driscoll."

With that, he walks away. You catch him throw a glance over his shoulder, but he doesn't say anything else. Once you're sure he's out of earshot, you turn back to Kieran.

"Not an O'Driscoll, huh?" You plop down in the grass. "Me neither."

He watches you. "Then what are you?"

You shrug. "Just from the future. I know how this all ends."

It's one hell of a bluff, but you hope Kieran will take the bait. You've got a lot riding on this. Not only do you want to look good in front of the gang, you want to impress Arthur. And this seems like a good way to do it.

"H-how does it end?" Kieran, much to your delight, sounds like he believes you. The tremor in his voice is a telltale sign.

You shrug again, deciding to draw it out. "For them? Not too shabby. For you..." You give him a look. "Well... I don't think you wanna know."

// // // // //

Five minutes later, you casually approach Arthur, Bill, and Dutch. You twirl a few blades of grass between your fingers, then let them go and watch them fly away in the wind. Then, you turn to meet everyone's questioning stares.

"Y'all ever heard of Six Point Cabin?" You ask. "Kieran says that's where Colm O'Driscoll's hiding."

Bill nods. "Yeah, I know it. Ain't too far from here."

"How in the hell," Arthur says, "did you get him to talk?"

You shrug and absently draw a circle in the dirt with your foot. "I told him I'm from the future and that y'all kill him and cut up his body into fourteen pieces, then scatter them all around the Grizzlies so nobody can ever find him."

Three pairs of eyes widen as the outlaws gape at you. Eventually, though, Dutch lets out a bark of laughter and pats your shoulder.

"Nice work, Y/N," he praises. "Guess we can count on you to get things done around here."

You find yourself smiling. "Just takes a bit of skill and a whole lot of lying."

"Well then." Dutch glances around at Bill and Arthur, then back to you. "Why don't you tag along with Mr. Williamson and Mr. Morgan, see if you can't pay ol' Colm a visit?"

At this, Arthur shoots Dutch a look. "You sure?" He asks, giving you a once-over. "They still don't know how to shoot, Dutch."

You know he's right, but the last thing you want to do is stay cooped up in camp any longer. And besides: how hard could shooting a gun be? All you have to do is pull the trigger.

"Take the O'Driscoll with you," Dutch is saying, "and have Y/N watch him. Any luck, we can catch Colm unawares."

Arthur still seems uncertain, but eventually nods. "Fine." He turns to you. "Sound alright?"

"Oh absolutely." You give him a wide grin. "Let's go."

A/N: So, I know that it's been a while between updates, but life got a little hectic with the whole quarantine business. Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Likes and comments are much appreciated!

Next Chapter: In Progress

Previous Chapter: Lionheart

Inspired Playlist Track: Green Day - “Dirty Rotten Bastards”

[your-rose-highness]

Tell me what is love (ch-8)

Chapter 8

Taeyeon was at her friend’s party when a call from baekhyun surprised her. He never calls unless in emergencies, and mostly they were about Sarang. Excusing herself she made he way out of the crowd before answering him.

“Where’s Sarang?”

“Wow, no hello, no where are you? Sarang is with Heechul Oppa.”

“That’s very responsible of you Tae. Heechul Hyung of all people?

Taeyeon hung up without responding. Baekhyun was being so difficult these days that she was losing her mind. She picked up a drink from the bar and drank it furiously before someone sat beside her.

“Trouble?”, smirked Changmin.

Changmin had always had a soft spot for Taeyeon. When she had just joined the company, he had spotted her as someone with a lot of passion and watching her grow both as an artist and as a person had been a delight for him. When she was dating Baekhyun, he was a little disappointed. He had expected her to focus on her career when she had just begun climbing fame. With the news of her dating and later marriage and children, her popularity had suffered and she had to begin from zero.

“Ah. Oppa. Nothing just, married couple issues, I guess.”, she smiled, taking another sip from her glass.

“Honestly, Tae, don't get me wrong. Why did you rush into this?”

“I told you, I was pregnant.”

“Do you realize how huge of a problem this is? How could you be so careless? You were just at the peak of success.”

“I was scared, Oppa. I was scared and Baekhyun proposed.”

“Did he?”

“What do you mean?”

“He didn't propose to you. Nor did you actually accept.”

“What is the use of thinking about these things? We’re a couple now.”, she sighed. “ Moreover, we have a child now. You know how these things will be twisted now if we decide to separate.”

“I didn't even say that you should. But if that’s what you're even thinking about. Well, there’s a problem, love.”

“But…”

“Look, ill just say this. Before the two of you, no one would have dreamed of marrying and having a baby at this age. Two members of popular idol groups and from the same company. How scandalous is that? But few fans have supported and have stayed loyal. Maybe after divorce, it’ll be another thunderstorm, but if you only you can bear through it. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll be how it was. At least, on the bright side, you won't be as miserable.”

Baekhyun called up Heechul to make sure Sarang was still with him. On confirming, he quickly drove over and brought his daughter home and bathed her.

“What would my princess like for dinner today?”

“Cake!”, Sarang chimed.

“Ey, a cake isn't a meal. What about jjajangmyeon?”

“Yes yes yes”, the little one danced. Baekhyun laughed and quickly began boiling the noodles.

“Sarang do you remember Aunt Hye hee?”

The little girl shook her head silently, while busily trying to climb a chair so that she could see what her father was cooking.

“Well, I met her today and I feel really happy. Kind of how you make me feel, get it? All fuzzy and rainbows.”

“Daddy, I want an elephant.”, Sarang cried.

“What! Of all the things in the world? How about I get you a plushie?”

“Elephant!!”

“Elephant plushie allowed only.”

Baekhyun was always too busy to spend time with his daughter, but when he could he loved playing with her. The last time he was home, Sarang made him playhouse and him to come into her play den for tea and chips. He was tired but playing Sarang was the best thing on the planet for him. Today he was Sarang’s patient as Dr.Sarang checked his temperature.

Taeyeon came home then and Sarang ran over to her mother.

“Hey, you're home.”, baekhyun mumbled, tidying up after Sarang.

“Yeah. did she eat?”

“Yeah. made her some jjajangmyeon. Did you have dinner or should I make you something?”

“I did. Are you free tomorrow?”

“ Yeah. Why?”

“I have a schedule at 4 am tomorrow. Will be back by 3 pm. If you're home, then I don't need to drop her at my mother’s.”

“Cool. no issues.”

That’s it. Silence. This was how the couple spoke to each other. Mostly about Sarang. 

The couple went to bed at the same time after months and it was always awkward.

“How’s work?”, asked Taeyeon

“Good.”, he sighed, “the agency wants us to begin individual projects now. So, I’m thinking about finally trying to get that solo, you know.”

“Baekhyun do you think we are okay?”, she blurted.

Baekhyun looked at her blankly, knowing very well what this was about.

“I really think we should talk about this. Not just for us, but for Sarang. We can't let our issues get to her.”, she continued when baekhyun didn't answer.

“Hmmm.”

“Hmmm? C,mon baekhyun!” she exclaimed, agitated

“I don't know what to say.”

“Do you still love me?”, she asked, turning towards him.

Her blunt question startled him and he was caught off guard.

“Look, we… I don't know…”, her voice trailed as she tried to find words.

“Do you think we should separate?”, he asked softly, still unable to meet her eyes.

“I mean if that would make us less miserable, yes.”

“It’ll get very complicated.”

“It will. But I think we can support each other on this one thing, don't you think? We got married against everyone’s wishes too. It was difficult but we overcame it all.”

“The company, our members, the team..?”

“Seriously, baekhyun? Will this matter when its too late? We’re miserable right now. Coming home shouldn’t have to be this stressful.”, Taeyeon stated.

“Do you currently like someone else?”

“What?”, Taeyeon turned to him furious. “Is that why you think I’m asking for a divorce? Wow, I can't believe I got married to you. No wonder Hye hee left you so easily. You're still a child, baekhyun.”, she spewed, hurt. Picking up her coat and purse, she rushed out of the bedroom without glancing back.

Baekhyun quietly peeped into his daughter’s room finding her peacefully asleep. He sat by her bed once again, resting his head beside hers.

“Sarang. My little princess. I wanted to be everything I couldn't for you. But look here, what do we have? A loser. I've done everything for this life I have and have lost everything in return. Now, possibly, your parents will gamble a happy normal family for you. Are we too selfish? I can say I’ve pushed it this far. I’m at fault. She’s right, I’ve dealt with this almost childishly. But was it all my mistake? Or was it fate? I’ve lost everything. Everything.” baekhyun sobbed uncontrollably.

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

“Hey good morning, hye hee”, Jaebeom welcomed her with a smile when she visited them the next morning.

Hye hee felt extremely apologetic towards him for Baekhyun’s behavior yesterday, but Jaebeom had been more than okay.

“It’s fine! He might have been surprised to see me. Also, celebs are afraid to be seen right. Green smoothie?”

“What with leaves?”

“Where else will it get its pretty green hue from? Hahaha. Don't worry, it won't taste bad, I’ll add berries in it. Jaein is still in bed, by the way, she made me watch reruns of harry potter last night with her. We watched the first three, after which I had to force her to go to bed. Can you imagine? A patient!”

The kitchen seemed different with Jaebeom moving around. Hye hee had been so used to just jane in this house, and the world knew she never cooks. She set the bunch of tulips she got for jane in a glass. Tulips were jane’s absolute favorite. She never had a specific color preference, so hye hee got her a mix and match of the colors at the florist.

“They certainly do brighten up the space.”,Jaebeom’s voice startled her.

“Oh sorry. Here’s your smoothie.”

“Wow, really vibrant.”, hye hee chuckled.

They sat at the dinner table while sipping on the smoothies. He was right, it didn't have that bad healthy taste that green smoothies usually did.

“So, you're also a journalist?”, asked Jaebeom.

“Yes, journalist aspiring to be a writer someday.”

“Oh, that’s cool. I’m a video producer.”

“Wow, anything I could have seen that you produced?”

Turns out, Jaebeom had worked with many filmmakers and also assisted music video producers. 

“No, I’ve never worked with the artists directly. You see my work is mainly behind the scenes. Once my team receives the tape, we edit and add effects. It takes months at times, depending on the company’s reference.”

“That’s super cool. I've always wanted to learn how to edit.”

“Maybe I could teach you sometime. Of course, the professional level will take longer.”

“Oh, no. the basics are just fine for me.”

“What about you? Where are you working right now?”

“I got sacked out of my old one. The company went bankrupt. I’m trying to find another one right now, but no luck so far.”

“Would you consider working for scriptwriters by any chance?”

“Yes! Anything at this point.”

“Alright, I’ll get back to you after I speak to them. Last I heard they were looking for an assistant scriptwriter. You have a good typing speed too. A bonus.”

He hadn't mentioned anything about yesterday’s occurrences and it made her fidgety. 

“Are we going to ignore what happened?”

“Hmm?”, he innocently asked, genuinely surprised.

“About baekhyun?”

“Oh! Look, I need to admit, I didn't fully trust you when you said you were friends with an EXO member, but seeing Baekhhyun did startle me. I did a google search about him after coming home. He has a daughter, eh? He’s quite young for being a dad.”

“Yeah. they had her immediately after marriage.”

“Yeah… you don't quite see that in the entertainment business. You were friends, right?”

“Best friends since middle school.” she stated.

“Whoa, now that’s something.” he smirked.

“What?”

“I’m sorry if I seem intrusive, but did you guys date?”, he asked, a smile on his lips.

Hye hee was taken aback by his question. How did he know?

“Okay, I’ll take that as a yes. Yeah, it did seem as such.”

“He was just worried about me, with the things happening”

“Probably.” Jaebeom softly said, the smile still playing on his lips.

She loaded her guns to shoot back answers when Jane entered the room. She looked very weak, now that could be because of the medicines or that she didn't sleep enough last night.

“Hello, my dear muggles.”, she croaked as she took a seat beside hye hee hugging her.

“I heard about your Hogwarts adventures.”, hye hee chuckled.

“Good. now that you're here, you’ll stay the night and watch the rest with me. You like the 4th movie anyway.”

“Yeah, that's great, another night with no sleep.”,Jaebeom cheekily added.

Baekhyun hadn't called her all day and it bothered hye hee a little. Suho might have said something to him about it. Had he known that baekhyun spent the night at hye hee’s? Though she wasn't home, a spectator would add things differently.

Jaebeom stepped out to get some groceries when she decided to spill everything to her best friend.

“So, you suspect this could be a fan’s doing?”, jane guessed.

“Why else would people patrol outside my house? They are not even sure how I look seeing they attacked you.”

“This is dangerous. You should talk to baekhyun about this. I’m shocked that he didn't see this coming. But, hey, on the bright side, he still has fans.”, she joked.

“What should I do?”

“Nothing. As Suho said, try to keep a bit of a distance. You are too caught up in your head with him. Live your life a little, please? Baekhyun isn't everything. He has his life spread out before him and it looks glorious. What about you? You’re still focused on him.”

When hye hee didn't answer, Jane continued, “I’m sorry if I was too blunt, but this is the truth and you have to face it sometime.”, she clarified, softly caressing her arm.

“I know, you mean well. I guess you’re right.” hye hee exhaled.

“Not taking the SM job then?”

“Actually your brother said he’d try to talk me up with his scriptwriters. Maybe it’ll work, fingers crossed.”

“Jaebeom? My brother? Actually, that reminds me, it’s kind of odd to see my brother so friendly with you. He’s usually very quiet, a stark opposite of me.”

“He’s been very kind, even though he half wanted to kill me after he found that you were in the hospital because of me.”, hye hee giggled.

“Now that sounds more like him.”, jane laughed.

Hye hee decided to spend the day at Jane’s after having lunch that Jaebeom bought for them. Jane was happy to have people in the house after so long that her brother decided to stay as well. It was quite a fulfilling day. The siblings shared each other’s embarrassing stories, Jaebeom played his guitar, turns out he has a very attractive voice as well.

After dinner, they all curled up to watch the rest of the harry potter movies. Halfway through the fifth part, Jaebeom realized jane was asleep with her head on hye hee’s lap. He carried her to her room and joined hye hee to finish the rest of the movie.

“Whoa. that is intense every time I watch it.”, sighed hye hee.

“Another Potterhead?”

“I cried when I didn't get my Hogwarts acceptance letter.”

After a while, the two of them decided to get some hot chocolate before bed.

“You're lucky! I bought marshmallows today.”,Jaebeom chirped looking through the grocery bag. Meanwhile hye hee made the hot comforting drink, taking it out to the balcony, where they sipped the hot drink with the gentle cool breeze touching their skin.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?”, Jaebeom asked, still looking ahead.

“No. not right now.”

“What a pity. Any man would be lucky to have you. I’m sure you've been asked out.”, he met her eyes. Hye hee was mesmerized and something about him seemed to draw her out of her shell.

“I wasn't ready.”, she simply put.

“Ah. no one quite reached your heart, then.”, he said letting out a throaty chuckle. “I get that, it’s quite the same for me. I see no point in dating for the sake of it. Unless its someone that stirs up your heart in ways unknown to yourself.” he glanced at her again, with the sweetest smile ever. 

“Alright. I’m off to sleep. If you need anything, I’m here in the living room.”, he wearily said.

She watched him grab his bedding and spread it on the floor, as the couch was too small for him. Something about Jaebeom was very enticing to her, almost addictive. Shaking away her bothersome thoughts, she decided to call it a night. Maybe tomorrow would be a good day for everyone.

[imagine-loki]

Caught in his web, Chapter 29

TITLE: Caught in his web CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 29 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is a crime lord, a very dangerous man in the city. He is owed money, but the man is unable to pay Loki back, so Loki takes his daughter as payment instead.  RATING: M

Loki looked down in disgust at the man who was grovelling at his feet, clinging onto his trousers as he wept and begged for his life.

‘Please, Mr Laufeyson. Please. I will do anything. I have a family to support. Please, please.’

Loki rolled his eyes and looked at Ethan and Samuel, who moved in and hauled the man away from Loki. They held him back, on his knees.

Loki stood up and strolled over towards the pathetic man and circled him. ‘Begging and crying like that will get you nowhere, Matt. As you know, I am a fair man. And I feel I have been more than fair with you, have I not?’ He came to a stop on front of him.

‘Y… yes… You have.’ Matt whimpered.

Loki crouched down and clasped his hands together. ‘So why do you think I should be even more lenient with you, after all the help and extra time I’ve already given you?’

‘Because… because…’

‘Because…?’ Loki asked in a condescending tone, raising an eyebrow as he waited for his answer. ‘See, you can’t even think of a reason why I should give you more time. Because you know I’ve been fair enough so far.’ Loki stood up and walked over to his desk, opening a drawer.

David and Ben were sitting at the side, watching. They shared a look with one another when Loki pulled out a dagger.

Matt tried struggling but Ethan and Samuel held him steady as Loki walked slowly and menacingly back towards him.

‘You have ten seconds to give me a damn good reason why I shouldn’t dispose of you right now.’ Loki said as he spun the dagger up in the air and caught it. Then started to move behind him while counting. ‘One… Two…’

‘Please. My family! My kids and wife. I can’t leave them, please.’ He sobbed.

‘Three… I said a good reason.’ Loki growled, towering over behind him.

Matt started to panic now. ‘I will pay back double next year!’

‘Four.’

‘I know the owner of a seafood restaurant down by the river, I can get you free meals for life!’

‘Five.’

‘I don’t like seafood.’ Ben commented, making David chuckle.

‘Six.’ Loki moved in on Matt, grabbing his hair tightly he forced his head right back so his neck was exposed, he placed the sharp blade against his throat.

‘PLEASE! PLEASE!’

‘Seven.’ Loki held him tightly as he started to really thrash around.

‘My wife has cancer! The money was for her treatment!’ He cried.

Loki paused for a moment. ‘Eight.’

‘Please! They need me to work, or they won’t be able to pay their bills.’ He cried.

‘You didn’t pay me back, Matt. I cannot let you go, as unfortunate as it is. What kind of example would that be to others?’

‘Please, I’ He was cut off when Loki slit his throat.

‘Nine, ten.’ Loki stood up and stepped away from his body as he fell forward to the floor with a thud. His blood pooling around him.

Ethan and Samuel moved in straight away to clean up. Loki strolled over to his desk as he pulled a napkin from his pocket to clean his dagger.

‘Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with your food?’ Ben grinned.

Loki chuckled. ‘Where would the fun be in killing him instantly? It’s nice to see them squirm.’

‘Why do you not use your gun? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use it before. It’s much less messy and quicker than a knife or a dagger.’ David asked.

‘I prefer to get up close and personal, a gun makes it feel so… boring and cold. With a dagger you can feel the resistance in their body as you force it into them.’ Loki grinned wickedly as he finished cleaning his dagger.

‘On that delightful note, I better get going.’ Ben said, standing up. ‘Thanks for your help, Loki.’ He shook Loki’s hand.

‘Anytime. See you soon.’

Ben said bye to David then headed out.

‘I just need to make a quick call.’ Loki said to David, who nodded.

Loki called James. ‘James, it’s Loki. Find out what kind of treatment Matt Simpson’s wife is receiving. If she needs money, make sure she gets whatever she needs. Also make sure her mortgage gets paid off and there’s no outstanding debt… Oh, and put a few grand into a college fund for all her kids.’

‘Sure thing, boss.’ James said, taking note without asking any questions.

‘Cheers.’ Loki hung up and turned to David.

‘That was nice of you. Surely Matt has now cost you an awful lot?’ David asked.

‘Perhaps. But got to put good into the community, haven’t I?’ Loki smirked.

‘True.’ David nodded.

Loki’s phone pinged and he checked it. He smiled when he saw it was from Chloe.

‘Do you like pasta?’ He asked David.

‘I do. Why?’

‘I discovered last week that Chloe makes a fantastic chicken carbonara. She’s just asked if I will be home for dinner as she is planning to make it again. Fancy joining us?’ Loki asked.

‘Sure, that would be great.’ David nodded.

Since Chloe had made him the pasta last week for the first time, he had been desperate to have it again. So he was secretly delighted that she offered already.

-

Chloe felt a bit nervous when Loki text back saying that David would be joining too, so asked if there would be enough for the three of them.

Of course, she had said she would make enough, but part of her was regretting that she had text Loki in the first place about dinner.

But she was pleasantly surprised when they returned and she got to know David a bit better during dinner. He was actually really nice and charming, Loki seemed nice and easy with him too, so she knew that he was safe to be around.

‘That was absolutely delicious, thank you very much, darling.’ David said, wiping his mouth.

‘You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.’ Chloe said happily.

Loki moaned and sat back on his chair. ‘It certainly was. That’s my new favourite meal, definitely.’

‘You’re just saying that.’ Chloe giggled.

‘No, honestly. I actually think it might be better than sex.’

Chloe almost choked on her drink and David chuckled. ‘I never thought you’d say that food was better than sex.’ David teased.

‘Well, maybe not quite better than sex.’ Loki looked at Chloe and winked, making her blush.

David rolled his eyes and looked at Chloe. ‘You’re lucky, I’ve had to put up with him for years!’

Chloe laughed. ‘How long have you known each other?’

She knew that out of all the men she had met, who were his supposed business partners, that there seemed to be more of a friendship between Loki and David.

‘Since secondary school. He was a bad influence on me.’ David grinned, pouring himself more wine.

‘I think you’ll find it was you who was a bad influence on me.’ Loki corrected.

Chloe wasn’t sure if it was the wine that was giving her more confidence or if it was just the excitement about hearing stories of Loki, but she couldn’t help but ask.

‘What was Loki like as a teenager?’

‘Oh god.’ Loki shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘A total nerd! Really into space and science. Aced pretty much all of his classes, except for PE for the first few years. He could barely run from one side of the football pitch to the other.’ David was in his element talking about Loki.

‘Really?’ Chloe looked at Loki with her eyebrows up.

Loki sighed. ‘It’s true. I was not into anything physical at all when I was younger. I was a skinny weakling.’

‘That soon changed though. It was, what, year three and he started working out hard. Put the entire class to shame by the end of that year.’

‘Did you two get up to mischief or was Loki a teacher’s pet?’ Chloe smirked, she knew by the look Loki gave her that she was in trouble later, no doubt. But she was finding it far too much fun.

‘As I said, David was a bad influence on me. When I started hanging around with him, I got into trouble more. The teachers were perplexed though, I was the smartest bad boy there was.’ He said proudly.

‘Highly intelligent, eventually strong and rather wicked. A dangerous concoction.’ David said. ‘I remember once when he almost drowned a poor kid in the swimming pool.’

Chloe’s eyes widened. ‘What? Seriously?’

Loki shrugged. ‘It was swimming class and he pulled a girls bikini bottoms down. She was horrified.’

‘Well… I guess he did deserve something back, but drowning him?’ Chloe gasped.

‘Correction, almost drowning him.’ Loki said with his finger up. ‘And in my defence, the teacher wasn’t overly pleased with what he did either. I didn’t get suspended or in too much trouble for attempted murder.’

Chloe just face-palmed, not knowing what to say really.

David told more stories from when they were younger. Chloe was ecstatic to be hearing about them. From Loki’s first crush on a substitute teacher where he brought her fruit almost daily and was heartbroken when the regular teacher came back, to trying his first cigarette and almost choking on it, never smoking again. Then the one Chloe thought was one of the best, was how he started up a business where he gave younger students answer sheets for exams that he made up himself, charging a fiver for each one.

‘He actually earned a good amount of cash from that. What was it, near five hundred quid?’

‘Just over six hundred, actually.’ Loki chuckled, smiling as he thought back of that fondly.

‘Bloody hell. So you’ve always been a business man.’ Chloe said.

‘I guess so.’ Loki nodded.

The three retired to the living room for a while and had a few more drinks. Then David decided to head home, joking that his wife would chop his balls off for being here for dinner without her.

After Loki saw him out, he returned to Chloe and sat down on the sofa. He was delightfully surprised when she put her drink down and moved along the sofa to drape herself across his lap, twisting his tie around her fingers.

He chuckled and rested his hand on her chest, the span of his hand so large that his fingers brushed against her neck.

‘Are you drunk, doll?’ He teased and started stroking her neck softly.

‘Not too drunk, no. I’m just… happy.’ She said honestly, looking up into his eyes.

Loki smiled fondly down at her. His other hand stroking her hair. ‘Well, I am very glad to hear that. Because I am too.’

[star-anise]

why would your social environment affect if you identify as a woman or nb?

I don’t know if you meant it to be, but this is a delightful question. I am going to be a complete nerd for 2k+ words at you.

“Gender” is distinct from “sex” because it’s not a body’s physical characteristics, it’s how society classifies and interprets that body. Sex is “That person has a vagina.” Gender is “This is a blend of society’s expectations about what bodies with vaginas are like, social expectations of how people with vaginas do or might or should act, behave, and feel, the actual lived experiences of people with vaginas, and a twist of lemon for zest.” Concepts of gender and what is “manly” and “womanly” can vary a lot. They’re social values, like “normal” or “legal” or “beautiful”, and they vary all the time. How well you fit your gender role depends a lot on how “gender” is defined.

800 years ago in Europe the general perception was that women were sinful, sensual, lustful people who required frequent sex and liked watching bloodsport. 200 years ago, the British aristocracy thought women were pure, innocent beings of moral purity with no sexual desire who fainted at the sight of blood. These days, we think differently in entirely new directions.

But this gets even more complicated, in part because human experience is really diverse and society’s narratives have to account for that. So 200 years ago, those beliefs about femininity being delicate and dainty and frail only really applied to women with aristocratic lineages, and “the lower classes” of women were believed to be vulgar, coarse, sexual, and earthy, which “explained” why they performed hard physical labor or worked as prostitutes.

Being trans or nonbinary isn’t just or even primarily about what characteristics you want your body to have. It’s about how you want to define yourself and be interpreted and interacted with by other people.

The writer Sylvia Plath lived 1932-1963, and she said:

“Being born a woman is my awful tragedy. From the moment I was conceived I was doomed to sprout breasts and ovaries rather than penis and scrotum; to have my whole circle of action, thought and feeling rigidly circumscribed by my inescapable feminity. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars–to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording–all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery.”

She was from upper-middle-class Massachusetts, the child of a university professor. A lot of those things she was “prohibited” from doing weren’t things each and every woman was prohibited from doing; they were things women of her class weren’t allowed to do. The daughters and sisters and wives of sailors and soldiers, women who worked in hotels and ran rooming houses, barmaids and sex workers, got to anonymously and invisibly observe those men, after all. They just couldn’t do it at the same time they tried to meet the standards educated Bostonians of the 1950s had for nice young women.

Failure to understand how diverse womanhood is has always been one of feminism’s biggest weaknesses. The Second Wave of feminism was started mostly by prosperous university-educated white women, since they were the people with the time and money and resources to write and read books and attend conferences about “women’s issues”. And they assumed that their issues were female issues. That they were the default of femaleness, and could assume every woman had roughly the same experience as them.

So, for example, middle-class white women in post-WWII USA were expected to stay home all the time and look after their children. Feminists concluded that this was isolating and oppressive, and they’d like the freedom to pursue lives, careers, and interests outside of the home. They vigorously pursued the right to be freed from their domestic and maternal duties.

But in their society, these experiences were not generally shared by Black and/or poor women, who, like their mothers, did not have the luxury of spending copious amounts of leisure time with their children; they had to work to earn enough money to survive on, which meant working on farms, in factories, or as cooks, maids, or nannies for rich white women who wanted the freedom to pursue lives outside the home. They tended to feel that they would like to have the option of staying home and playing with their babies all day. 

This is not to say none of the first group enjoyed domestic lives, or that none of the second group wanted non-domestic careers; it’s just that the first group formed the face and the basic assumptions of feminism, and the second group struggled to get a seat at the table.

There’s this phenomenon called “cultural feminism” that’s an attitude that crops up among feminists from time to time (or grows on them, like fungus) that holds that women have a “feminine essence”, a quasi-spiritual “nature” that is deeply distinct from the “masculine essence” of men. This is one of the concepts powering lesbian separatism: the idea that because women are so fundamentally different from men, a society of all women will be fundamentally different in nature from a society that includes men.

But, well, the problem cultural feminism generally has is with how it achieves its definition of “female nature”. The view tends to be that women are kinder, more moral, more collectivist, more community-minded, and less prone to violence. 

And cultural feminists tend to HATE people who believe in the social construction of gender, because we tend to cross our arms and go, “Nah, sis, that’s a frappe of misused statistics and The Angel In the House with some wishful thinking as a garnish. That’s how you feel about what womanhood is. It’s fair enough for you, but you’re trying to apply it to the entire human species. That’s got less intellectual rigor and sociological validity than my morning oatmeal.” Hence the radfem insistence that gender theorists like me SHUT UP and gender quite flatly DOESN’T EXIST. It’s a MADE-UP TERM, and people should STOP TALKING ABOUT IT. (And go back to taking about immutable, naturally-occuring phenomena, one supposes, like the banking system and Western literary canon.)

Because seriously, when you look at real actual women, you will see that some of us can be very selfish, while others are altruistic; some think being a woman means abhorring all violence forever, and others think being a woman means being willing to fight and die to protect the people you love. As groups men and women have different average levels of certain qualities, but it’s not like we don’t share a lot in common. The distribution of “male” and “female” traits doesn’t tend to mean two completely separate sets of characteristics; they tend to be more like two overlapping bell curves.

So, like I said, I grew up largely in rural, working-class Western Canadian society. My relatives tend to be tradesmen like carpenters, welders, or plumbers, or else ranchers and farmers. I was raised by a mother who came of age during the big push for Women’s Lib. So in the culture in which I was raised, it was very normal and in some ways rewarded (though in other ways punished) for women to have short hair, wear flannel and jeans, drive a big truck, play rough contact sports, use power tools, pitch in with farmwork, use guns, and drink beer. “Traditional femininity” was a fascinating foreign culture my grandmother aspired to, and I loved nonsense like polishing the silver (it’s a very satisfying pastime) but that was just another one of my weird hobbies, like sewing fairy clothes out of flower petals and collecting toy horses.

Within the standards of the society I was raised in, I am a decently feminine woman. I’m obviously not a “girly girl”, someone who wears makeup and dresses in ways that privilege beauty over practicality, but I have a long ponytail of hair and when I go to Mark’s Work Wearhouse, I shop in the women’s section. We know what “butch” is and I ain’t it.

But through my friendships and my career, I’ve gotten experiences among cultures you wouldn’t think would be too different–we’re all still white North Americans!–but which felt bizarre and alien, and ate away at the sense of self I’d grown up in. In the USA’s northeast, the people I met had the kind of access to communities with social clout, intellectual resources, and political power I hadn’t quite believed existed before I saw them. There really were people who knew politicians and potential employers socially before they ever had to apply to a job or ask for political assistance; there were people who really did propose projects to influential businessmen or academics at cocktail parties; they really did things like fundraise tens of thousands of dollars for a charity by asking fifty of their friends to donate, or start a business with a $2mil personal loan from a relative.

And in those societies, femininity was so different and so foreign. I’d grown up seeing femininity as a way of assigning tasks to get the work done; in these new circles, it was performative in a way that was entirely unique and astounding to me. A boss really would offer you a starting salary $10k higher than they might have if you wore high heels instead of flats. You really would be more likely to get a job if you wore makeup. And your ability to curate social connections in the halls of power really was influenced by how nice of a Christmas party you could throw. These women I met were being held, daily, to a standard of femininity higher than that performed by anyone in my 100 most immediate relatives.

So when girls from Seven Sisters schools talked about how for them, dressing how I dressed every day (jeans, boots, tee, button-up shirt, no makeup, no hair product) was “bucking gendered expectations” and “being unfeminine”, I began to feel totally unmoored. When I realized that I, who absolutely know only 5% as much about power tools and construction as my relatives in the trades, was more suited to take a hammer and wade in there than not just the “empowered” women but the self-professed “handy” men there, I didn’t know how to understand it. I felt like I was… a woman who knew how to do carpentry projects, not “totally butch” the way some people (approvingly) called me.

And, well, at home in Alberta I was generally seen as a sweet and gentle girl with an occasional stubborn streak or precocious moment, but apparently by the standards of Southern states like Georgia and Alabama I am like, 100x more blunt, assertive, and inconsiderate of men’s feelings than women typically feel they have to be.

And this is still all just US/Canadian white women.

And like I said, after years of this, I came home (from BC, where I encountered MORE OTHER weird and alien social constructs, though generally more around class and politics than gender) to Alberta, and I went to what is, for Alberta, a super hippy liberal church, and I helped prepare the after-service tea among women with unstyled hair and no makeup  who wore jeans and sensible shoes, and listened to them talk about their work in municipal water management and ICU nursing, and it felt like something inside my chest slid back into place, because I understood myself as a woman again, and not some alien thing floating outside the expectations of the society I was in with a chestful of opinions no one around me would understand, suddenly all made sense again.

I mean, that’s by no means an endorsement for aspirational middle class rural Alberta as the ideal gender utopia. (Alberta is the Texas of Canada.) I just felt comfortable inside because it’s the culture where I found a definition of myself and my gender I could live with, because its boundaries of what’s considered “female” were broad enough to hold all the parts of me I felt like I needed to express. I have a lot of friends who grew up here, or in families like mine, and don’t feel at all happy with its gender boundaries. And even as I’m comfortable being a woman here, I still want to push and transform it, to make it even more feminist and politically left and decolonized.

TERFs try to claim that trans and nonbinary people reinforce the gender identity, but in my experience, it’s feminists who claim male and female are immutable and incompatible do that. It’s trans, nonbinary, and genderqueer people who, simply by performing their genders in public, make people realize just how bullshit innate theories of gender are.. Society is going to want to gender them in certain ways and involve them in certain dynamics (”Hey ladies, those fellas, amirite?”) and they’re going, “Nope. Not me. Cut it out.” I’ve seen a lot of cis people who will quietly admit they do think men and women are different because that’s just reality, watch someone they know transition, and suddenly go, “Oh my god, I get it now.”

Like yes, this is me being coldly political and thinking about people as examples to make a political point. Everyone’s valid and can do what they want, but some things are just easier for potential converts to wrap their minds around.. “I’m sorting through toys to give to Shelly’s baby. He probably won’t want a princess crown, huh?” “I actually know several people who were considered boys when they were babies and never got one, and are making up for all their lost princess crown time now as adults. You never know what he’ll be into when he grows up.” “…Okay, point. I’ll throw it in there.” Trans and enby people disrupt gender in a really powerful back-of-the-brain way where people suddenly see how much leeway there is between gender and sex.

I honestly believe supporting trans and enby people and queering gender until it’s a macrame project instead of a spectrum are how we’ll get to a gender-free utopia. I think cultural feminism is just the same old shit, inverted. (Confession: in my head, I pronounce “cultural” with emphasis on the “cult” part.) 

I think feminism is like a lot of emergency response groups: Our job is to put ourselves out of a job. It’s not a good thing if gender discrimination is still prevalent and harmful 200 years from now! Obviously we’re not there yet and calls to pack it in and go home are overrated, but as the problem disappears into its solution, we have to accept that our old ways of looking at the world have to shift.

[kricketwritesstories]

Title: Pack Your Bags Cause We’re Getting Married

Fandom: Avengers

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters: Bucky, Reader, Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Tony

Summary: Bucky finally gets up the courage to confess his love for the Reader...but she's already engaged?

Bucky felt positively giddy as he left his apartment this morning. After a long bro to bro talk with Steve that lasted until the wee hours of the morning, it was decided.

Today was the day he asked Y/N to be his girlfriend.

From the moment they met, Bucky knew she was the one. It was like he was compelled to tell her everything; he couldn't help but open up to her. Her smile lit up his world and her laugh made his heart soar. For the past six months he'd been trying to get the courage to ask her to be his. Every single time he'd try his mouth would go dry, his hands would sweat, and he ended up asking her, "How about that local sports team?"

He'd done this so many times that Y/N had taken to answering him, "I hear they eat their young."

Rubbing the back of his neck and blushing furiously at his cowardice, she would laugh and so would he because dammit that laughter was infectious!

He took a deep breath as he approached her door. It took him by surprise to find the door open. Stealthily he positioned himself in the doorway. Y/N was sprawled out on her bed curled on her side facing the door. She took no notice of Bucky's presence because her eyes were focused on her phone. Her face was tinged pink and she was grinning like an idiot. Bucky sighed and leaned in the doorway watching her. It was a dreamlike moment until he heard a Scottish voice on the other end of the phone proclaim, "Pack your bags, cause we're getting married!"

Y/N squealed and rolled on to her back, her eyes never leaving her phone. Bucky felt his heart shatter into a billion pieces.

"If he doesn't think you're the right size because your thighs touch or your curves aren't in the 'right places' fuck that! You're a champion! You're amazing the way you are, and remember size doesn't matter if 90% of your dick is your personality," he continued.

Bucky couldn't stand to hear anymore. He stumbled down the hallway towards the elevator. When he reached the common living room he threw himself on the couch and turned on the TV, Sam, Steve, and Nat stopped talking.

"Buck," Steve said carefully, "how -"

"CAN'T A GUY WATCH," he paused and took a good look at the TV, "JAKE AND THE NEVERLAND PIRATES IN PEACE?!"

"Shit," he thought to himself, "of course it's still on the channel we had on last night while we babysat Clint's kids."

He stared at the TV as he thought back to the night before. For some reason, outside of Nat, Clint's kids loved having Y/N and Bucky babysit them. He let Lila braid his hair while Y/N played pirates Cooper. The ended the night all piled on the couch watching Disney Junior. His heart ached remembering the sight of baby Nathaniel cradled in Y/N's arms. He dared himself to imagine briefly that this was their family, and now all those hopes were obliterated.

Sam leaned over and whispered to his fellow Avengers, "Is Snow Miser seriously watching Disney Junior?"

"Maybe he really doesn't like Captain Hook, that sneaky snook," Natasha joked.

"Something must've went wrong when he tried to," Steve started to muse before he realized he was talking out loud.

His face went beat red and he prayed the other two didn't hear him. Well, his prayers weren't heard but his words sure were.

"Oh my God, did he try and ask Y/N out again," Nat said hopefully.

"Please, I'm pretty sure his balls froze off from all the years in cryo - he's been trying for months and he just can't do it," Sam mocked.

"Come on guys, cut him some slack," Steve pleaded.

"Steve. He's a grown ass man watching Jake and the Neverland Pirates intensely - like he's going to miss a plot point," Sam pointed out.

"Good afternoon everyone," Y/N greeted cheerfully.

"Good woah," Sam stuttered.

Typically Y/N wore oversized fandom t-shirts with zip-up hoodies, ripped up jeans, and a pair of beat up converse. Everyone knew she had confidence issues when it came to her body. It didn't matter that everyone called her 'cute' and 'adorable,' she wanted to be sexy and she didn't think she could be with the body she had.

Today, her confidence was through the roof. She wore a maroon off the shoulder lace top that hugged her curves, a black skater skirt, and open toed heals. Her make up, while usually natural, was done a touch more dramatic. Her E/C eyes were practically glittering with happiness.

Bucky refused to look from the TV, even despite Sam's reaction. He could feel bitterness tighten in his chest.

"Well, well, well," Nat said impressed, "what's the occasion Y/N?"

"Didn't she tell you," Bucky said bitterly unable to control the words that spewed from his mouth, "she's engaged."

Steve spit out the coffee he was drinking, drenching Sam in the process.

"Nice," Sam said curtly as he stood up to go clean himself off.

"I didn't think you were even seeing anyone," Natasha said as she looked cautiously between Bucky and Y/N.

Before Y/N could answer Bucky, still staring at the TV, started ranting, "Oh well it's because it's some Scottish guy she's seeing on her phone with that head seeing thing."

He was silent for just a few moments, but Y/N just couldn't get her words out she was so taken aback.

"Also I'll have you know," he shouted causing everyone to freeze, "that I've always thought your curves are sexy and beautiful. I've never thought they weren't in the right places. Your body, your face, your personality - it's all perfect to me."

Y/N couldn't will herself to breathe let alone move a muscle. Even Sam was stock still with paper towels bunched in his hands, he still hadn't made a move to clean the coffee off of himself.

"And another thing," Bucky shouted louder, his voice cracking, "I'll have you know that my dick is huge - and none of it has to do with my personality - and that it was that size even BEFORE the super soldier serum!"

"What fresh hell," Tony said confused as he walked into the awkward scene, "why is Terminator talking about his gun size?"

"James," Y/N said with a cautious yet amused tone, "were you at my door this morning?"

"I may have been walking by," Bucky admitted grumpily.

"So you heard Daniel -," Y/N started.

"What kind of fucking punk ass name is Daniel," he snapped, voice dripping with jealousy.

"Who the hell is Daniel," Tony said confused.

"Y/N's Scottish fiancé," Bucky spat bitterly.

"Daniel Euan Henderson," Y/N said in a strained voice.

"Y/N Henderson, huh," he said curtly, "well I hope you two are very happy together. I'm sure we'll miss you on the team."

"Y/N's leaving the team," Tony questioned in horror.

"- is a YouTuber," Y/N attempted once again to continue.

"Wow...what an exciting job," Bucky taunted, "someone who films themselves talking about shit is so much better than one of earth's mightiest heroes."

"Y/N is marrying a YouTuber," Tony asked as his confusion kept climbing.

"- who films himself talking to girls," Y/N tried yet again.

"Hmm he sounds real faithful there, good pick," Bucky said stubbornly while his eyes were still glued to Jake.

"- to help encourage them about their body image," Y/N explained as she finally was able to move herself forward.

"Well clearly it's working for you, sweet cheeks," Tony noted winking as he took in Y/N's appearance.

"I've been watching him for months now," Y/N continued ignoring Tony's comment.

"Oh wow," Bucky said hurt, "you've been seeing him for months?"

"Watching," Y/N corrected, "to try and boost my confidence -"

"Well he proposed so I guess it worked," Bucky said sadly.

"So Y/N is getting married," Tony asked.

"OH MY GOD I AM NOT ENGAGED! I AM NOT SEEING ANYONE! I'VE BEEN WATCHING HIS VIDEOS TO GAIN CONFIDENCE SO I CAN DO THIS," Y/N screamed exasperated.

She stalked over to the TV, turned it off, and faced James Buchanan Barnes. The moment he finally looked at her, he couldn't breathe. All jealousy and animosity flew from his mind and all he could think was how exceptionally beautiful Y/N was.

Steeling her nerves Y/N walked over to the couch. In one swift movement, before she lost her nerve, Y/N straddled Bucky's lap, placed her hands on his face, and kissed him for all he was worth.

Bucky's hands flew, one to hold the back of her neck and one to hold her waist, as he kissed Y/N back with abandon.

Y/N pulled back panting, and leaned her forehead against his. "So," she breathed, "how about that local sports team?"

Bucky's smile threatened to take over his whole face it was so big. "I hear they eat their young," he responded before kissing her again.

Natasha, Steve, and a still coffee soaked Sam all sighed dreamily as they watched the scene play out.

"What sports team eats their young and why do they have young in the first place," Tony cried out in horror, breaking the silence.

Bucky and Y/N broke their kiss because they couldn't stop laughing. They fell sideways onto the couch, still holding onto one another.

"To be clear," Y/N said seriously, "you're mine now, and I'm yours."

Bucky's eyes darkened at her words. "Also to be clear, I meant everything I said earlier," he said huskily as he glanced downward.

Y/N blushed furiously and buried her head in his neck to whisper, "I can't wait to find out myself."

In a split second, Bucky was on his feet and he threw Y/N over his shoulder. She squealed in delight as he carried her out of the room.

"You may want to invest in some noise cancelling headphones, Stevie," Bucky called back to his best friend and fellow floor mate.

Steve groaned, but couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. "Well at least my ship has sailed," he sighed.

Sam gasped, "Look at you grandpa, using that young people lingo like a boss!"

"What the actual fuck just happened," Tony shouted as his eyes went wide and his hands shot out as if he was trying to keep his balance.

Nat walked over to him and patted his head sympathetically and promised, "I'll tell you when you're older."

[utilitycaster]

Your fav character from each class in all the actual plays you’ve watched?

THE BEST QUESTION (if hard). I’m only counting regular PCs here; see the end for some guest/NPC/one-shot mentions. As you can see I love basically all characters but I do have my favorites.

Barbarian: there is a high potential, now that Ashley is back for good, that Yasha will win this next year but for now Gorgug and his sweet awkwardness and confused attempts to find his dad wins. (some other good barbarians: Grog, Beryl from Relics and Rarities who was a. kind of a stoner and b. an absolute delight and c. a cool depiction of path of the ancestral guardian, and Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, sweet crepe loving failure)

Bard: I love Fig, but I have to go Scanlan. You know that art piece of the Vecna battle that’s overlaid with the All Work No Play “what would the worst character be” line? Yeah. From “I’m snoring after having sex” to “I was saving it for Vax”. You just can’t beat that. (some other good bards: Annabella from Relics and Rarities, Misty from Dimension 20)

Cleric: this is probably the hardest category (shout out to a lot of clerics. Jester, Kingston, and Kristen are tied for second place) but I think I have to go with Caduceus. I love how much he sees of everyone else and how little we know of him. I love how not-so-secretly judgemental he is. I love his bone flute. I love that he’s quietly trying to save his dying home, and perhaps find family that might be dead. Someone hug him for me. (I would like to recognize Pike and Merle of course, as well as Efink Murderdeath here, and while I’m only 7 episodes in I think Zolf is already my favorite of RQG. )

Druid: Keyleth. I feel like TAZ is at a disadvantage because they’re so early on in Graduation, but also I love the Firbolg but I am not sure a druid will ever surpass Keyleth, with all her messy awkwardness and genuine desire to do good at any cost. (shout out to Ricky Huckster for being a really unique take on the druid, Lillith from Escape from the Bloodkeep for being a great wine mom, and to Kugrash who is currently ripping my heart out)

Fighter: I’m surprising myself here but the recent developments with Fabian Seacaster have put him in the forefront, I think because his story is still ongoing and because I’m a sucker for an arrogant jock suddenly confronting mortality and failure. I do still love Percival De Rolo a lot though. (shout out to Magnus Burnsides who is good at everything, and Veros the O.G. Himbo from Relics and Rarities)

Monk: Beau. This is another case of like, I love Sofia Bicicleta too, but Marisha Ray has some kind of genius for playing female characters that really tap into like, things that many women I think feel but don’t know how to express (at least, I, a woman, feel these things and don’t know how to express them). Beau is such a complicated abrasive character who feels things deeply, and who has genuinely tried and succeeded in changing. She’s so dynamic and wonderful and I love her to bits.

Paladin: Vax. I wrote a whole piece about my experience of listening to CR campaign 1 episode 57 that I never published or posted. I think there’s something deeply profound and beautiful about sticking to an oath that you didn’t ever think you’d choose, and to a promise you fell into. (also, spoilers but Fjord’s going to be my choice for Warlock so I cover that there even though one of my favorite things about him is his switch to Paladin). (shout out, of course, to Ricky Matsui)

Ranger: Vex. Due to some valid and some invalid complaints about the ranger class few people play it, which is a shame because the revised ranger options are pretty great (Horizon Walker is amazing, I say as an admitted fan of weird planar shit) and because like, Aragorn was my favorite LOTR character. But yeah, everything I’ve said about Keyleth and Beau applies to Vex, the D&D character I think I relate most to despite my irl stats not matching hers at all (I do not have 17 Charisma). The imposter syndrome, the need to appear that everything is under control, the sibling loyalty, the stubbornness, the quiet leadership - it’s all so perfect and so unique and I love her very much. (Sokhbarr was a fun take though)

Rogue: put Vax as Paladin so I could nominate Riz as my favorite rogue (and again, I love Nott and enjoy what I’ve seen of Argo, and to be fair, Sasha seems very good as well) but I think the inquisitive subclass is so cool and Riz has such a wonderful arc. Also, goblin with gun is great but goblin high schooler with gun is straight up genius.

Sorcerer: a very rare class, tbh, with Pete getting it by default. He is indeed a fascinating character though, and tying his sorcery into the mythology of the world is a pretty brilliant DM move. (I also am very into Hamid thus far, not in the least because I love halflings)

Warlock: Fjord. I liked Fjord from the start, and even when he was being an ass during the pirate arc found him relatable. I think it might be my background as a bard player that makes me love this disaster who survived for years on just a high constitution and being really good at talking and playing roles; I also love someone who isn’t the greatest leader but falls into it, and someone with control issues working through it (see also: Vex, Percy) And finally, I don’t know if Travis was telling the truth about him being lawful good but he genuinely does want to make things better for people and he takes responsibility very seriously. (obviously, I also really liked Leland, and while I think of both Fig and Sofia as primarily of their main classes of bard and monk, they are cool as warlocks. I get why Emily Axford keeps gunning for Hexblade).

Wizard: Caleb. Given all the other sources of magic it’s always fascinating to see why someone becomes a wizard specifically, and I also like how complex Caleb is - not just the trauma, though that’s part, but the humor and the versatility. (Adaine was a close runner-up though, and Taako was my favorite of THB but is a little too goofy to be a favorite).

Artificer: I mean, obviously Tary.

NPCs and guests, with less commentary:

Barbarian: gonna go with Lionel the True Polymorphed Duck here.

Bard: Hazel Copperpot, she of the 1930s radio accent

Cleric: again very difficult, but then again, not so difficult. Lieve’tel was great.

Druid: Nila, the sweet and calming presence in our hour of need.

Fighter: oh god I don’t know if I can choose between Keg, bisexual dwarven disaster, and Brian David Gilbert’s Hargis, awkward goliath theater kid.

Monk: Ferriwen Breeze, who I do hope shows up again because she was my favorite Darrington Brigade character and I really love Genasi; also Expositor Dairon, natch.

Paladin: few people play paladins as guests which is weird. I do like Kerrek, and I do like Arkhan, but like, Kima, clearly.

Ranger: Sandralynn Faeth, hands down. A wonderful NPC.

Rogue:  I do love Cathilda, and I do love Twiggy, but I laughed about the Owlbear for the entire Darrington Brigade one shot.

Sorcerer: I mean...it has to be Gilmore, right? Calianna is great but no one can beat Gilmore.

Warlock: Zahra, who also, incidentally, is the only non-Hexblade Warlock who’s shown up. I mean hexblade is objectively amazing but Zahra is too.

Wizard: there have been many wizard NPCs across games and it was a very difficult choice but who else is graceful, unendingly kind and patient, and reliable in all situations? Allura Vyesoren is the wizard you wish your wizard could be. Yussa and Essek and Lup and Arthur Aguefort and Barry and Lyra and Ranier and far more wizard NPCs and guests are all wonderful in their own ways but like, did you think you could come for Matt Mercer’s self insert? you could not.

.