#and often to v casual places like Target
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Proportionality in war is a synonym for lethal stalemate, if not defeat.
When two sides go at it with roughly equal forces, weapons, and strategies, the result is often a horrific deadlock—like the four years of toxic trench warfare on the Western Front of World War I that resulted in 12 million fatalities.
The purpose of war is to defeat the enemy as quickly as possible with the least number of casualities—and thereby achieve political ends.
So, every side aims to find superior strategies, tactics, weapons, and manpower to ensure as great a disproportionate advantage as possible.
Hamas is no exception.
Its savage precivilizational strategy to defeat Israel hinged on doing disproportionate things Israel either cannot or will not do.
First, Hamas spent a year planning a preemptive butchery spree inside Israel. Its ruthless murdering focused on “soft targets” like unarmed elderly, women, children, and infants, mostly asleep at a time of peace and holiday.
Second, it sought to collectively shock Israel into paralysis by the sheer horror of decapitating civilians, burning babies, mass raping, and mutilating bodies.
Another apparent aim of such premodern barbarity was to blame Israel’s “occupation” for turning Gazans into veritable monsters, with hopes of derailing the renewed Abraham Accords.
Third, the gunmen took more than 240 hostages back with them to Gaza.
Again, that was a disproportionate tactic designed to meter out the release of captives in exchange for “pauses” and “cease-fires” to save Hamas.
Additionally, Hamas made implicit threats of gruesome executions of captives unless Israel ceased their retaliation for October 7.
Fourth, all the while Hamas shot rockets into Israel, more than 7,000 in total, and all aimed at civilians.
Not one launch was preceded by dropping leaflets or sending text messages to Israeli civilians to vacate the intended target areas—a protocol often used by the Israel Defense Forces.
The unapologetic aim was to kill thousands of Israelis at random and disproportionately.
In fact, in just the last few four weeks, Hamas has launched more than twice as many rockets into Israel as Nazi Germany managed to launch V-2s into Britain in five months.
Fifth, Hamas sought to create a multibillion-dollar tunnel city beneath Gaza. The labyrinth’s sole purposes were to stockpile weapons and ensure safe havens for terrorists to shoot rockets and regroup after their terrorist missions.
Sixth, the subterranean headquarters of Hamas elites, along with weapons depots, were strategically placed under hospitals, mosques, and schools to “shield” them from Israeli attacks.
The expectation was that the IDF would be hesitant to target such “civilian” and “humanitarian” areas in a way Hamas never would.
Seventh, Hamas forced the civilians of Gaza to remain among the street fighting. They often shot those who resisted.
They also killed Gazans who fled the city. Hamas sought to increase civilian fodder as collateral damage from Israeli attacks. Such deaths were to be broadcast worldwide to win sympathy for Hamas terrorists and force a cease-fire.
Eighth, Hamas bragged that it could repeat strategies 1-7 endlessly on the supposition Israel would tire, the world would turn against it, and it at last could murder enough Jews to end Israel altogether.
Israel in turn seeks its own disproportionate response to defeat Hamas.
First, it seeks to single out and kill the actual Hamas terrorists, and especially the 2,000 or so killers of October 7.
Second, it tries to warn civilians to flee anywhere that Hamas masses. Just as Hamas wants its own civilians killed for propaganda purposes, so Israel seeks to avoid killing them.
Third, by targeting Hamas and warning civilians to keep their distance, Israel does not deny that there will be collateral damage.
But it hopes to convince the world that any civilian deaths are mostly the fault of Hamas and not the IDF.
And to the degree that Gaza City is left in rubble, Israel wishes to remind its enemies that the wages of murdering Jewish infants unfortunately will be a disproportionate response, whose full effects will deter any future attack.
Fourth, Israel understands that a country of 9-10 million is facing a virulently hostile 500 million-person Arab Middle East. The United Nations is on the side of Hamas. A now anti-Semitic Europe has been hijacked by immigrants from the Middle East. Israel’s sole patron the United States is buffeted by a hard-left new Democratic Party that is not a reliable partner.
The result is that Israel still cannot conduct a fully disproportionate war without endangering its source of military resupply in the United States, and a wider conflict with the Islamic world.
And so, the war continues.
Hamas strives for a more disproportionate terrorist agenda to prolong the war. And Israel strives for a more disproportionate retaliation to end it.
The anger arises at Israel mostly because it is Jewish, and thus far its conventional disproportionality is proving more effective than the terrorist disproportionality of Hamas.
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made a supe oc, say hello to vortex!!!
really happy with how i’ve been fleshing out their character + relationships with my friends’ ocs!! if you have your own ocs for the boys universe i’d love to see em =)
(for those curious, extended info about them below)
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Supe Alias: Vortex
Real Identity: Haven Flores
*latino + white, but doesn’t speak spanish; 20, they/she; not very romantic, but active with all genders (unlabeled?)
Abilities: typical increased strength, fighting skill, etc; increased dexterity/reflexes; ability to create portals- if portal closes on physical matter, it will slice. self-trained, fairly juvenile with their physical abilities, but very sneaky and skilled with portal abilities.
Ability Limitations: cannot open portals around physical matter, has to be open space. physical matter must pass through independently from outward force (including gravity). additionally, portals can only be created within a certain vicinity of the creator. portal stability and size are impacted by factors like focus, emotional + physical state, etc.
*supplemental doses of compound v will increase the vicinity of portal creation and size, but too much will make the portals more unstable and more likely to close unwillingly.
Vices: often uses powers to steal and screw around. started out as something to keep themselves afloat while living poor, but has become a habit that is sometimes impulsive and unnecessary. is not evil, but definitely morally grey and has an inflated sense of self. does not kill excessively or mercilessly, but is used to the corruption within the supe community and doesn’t question it in others. seeks to save their own hide above others, unless they are good friends. a large part of their identity is that she know LOTS of secrets, and is a well known blackmailer, or one to come to for blackmail on other people. simultaneously puts a target on their back while also protecting them. is reverent to almost none, but trusts her friends. respect from them is hard earned.
Virtues: at her core, she does wish things were different. they are content with the less than decent things they participate in now because, if they can get away with it, why not? plus, in her mind, it’s different when you have to do it to get by. although, the things the other supes do make her sick. it can be mentally taxing to keep up with all that horrible information. not to mention, it can be difficult to feel safe if people both love and hate your notoriety for having dirt on everyone. they assist the boys on occasion because she believes she would be safer if the higher threats are eliminated. (and maybe, under that jaded exterior, she holds onto the hope that supes have the capability to be what everyone believes them to be.)
Relationships: their established friendship / history with frenchie and subsequently kimiko lead them to the boys’ cause in the first place. finds hughie dorky, but likes to talk music with him. she respects mm, but doesn’t quite consider him a friend, more of an acquaintance. does not respect butcher at all. annie is not the kind of person they would usually get along with, but the two of them aren’t on hostile terms, more just are ok with each other’s existence with no big opinion. actively hates anyone who employs them and anyone who is the subject of their blackmail (which is a lot of people)- mostly other supes or corporate groups, including vought. does not choose sides with any of them because she sees the corruption everywhere and blackmails anyone no questions asked for the protection and money exclusively.
Additional Details: when not engaging in anything that will require a fight or the ability to be significantly stealthy, they tend to wear bulkier or layered outfits (more spaces to put things that they totally paid for). wears gold jewelry / metal accessories pretty exclusively. the golden hair clip she uses to put up her hair is sometimes substituted for a regular old hair tie in casual situations.
#the boys#the boys oc#supe oc#shoutout chuck who is developing a really fun storyline w vortex and it’s supe oc#the boys season 3#the boys tv#is this an excuse to vaguely self ship with frenchie#emphasis on vaguely#who knows#trins oc tag#trins art tag =p
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Less = More With Keyword
When you've got a 500 phrase article, attempt placing a keyword in every paragraph. Because the Japanese word for cute, kawaii has connotations of shyness, embarrassment, vulnerability, darlingness and lovability. Visits to Japanese cities reverberating with squeals of “Kawaaaiiiiiii! Other massive cities will have related websites. Only a small proportion of individuals are inclined to click on a keyword advert or search result listing, however your ad or listing is going to be apparent time and time once more to individuals trying to find terms you may have bid on or sold, increasing your site advertising. Wanting at the adult landscape, with its pressures of debt, competition and accountability, it is not any marvel that folks want to escape into the infinite time, house and promise of childhood. Press the house key then arrow keys to select. ” might make this fad straightforward to dismiss as just another exoticism of the East. It’s crucial to try to collect as many keyword potentialities as you can, as you may discover out that your smaller pool of terms are extremely aggressive and tougher to rank for, which will require you to return to this step again later on. But the presence of costumed adults lining up for London’s own Comedian-Con, a Swarovski-encrusted Howdy Kitty price hundreds of pounds, and the profiling of Lolita trend in magazine articles and V&A exhibits, show that cute tradition is not just spreading past Asia, however it’s right here to stay.
Cute and playful, the tradition continues to evolve and the latest in kawaii can always be found in Japantown. Small Internet sites and residence servers can get crippled when four hundred visitors a day instantly turns into 5,000 in two hours. Assume infants and small fluffy creatures. However whereas kawaii could seem like a closing of 1 door, held in its small furled fist is a key that opens another. Chances are you'll not have observed, however look carefully and Howdy Kitty has no mouth. RESULTSPrice and other particulars could fluctuate primarily based on product size and shade. Pastel Coloration Block Tee, A-Line Skirt, Sailor Gown, Two Piece Costume. The babydoll informal dress, smocked casual dresses with Peter Pan collars, off the shoulder informal dresses, shirred casual dresses, smocked casual dresses, and finally informal dresses with pockets! Because the financial system progressed by the 1970s and 1980s, so did client subcultures - and cute as a mode began to be expressed by means of childish handwriting, speech, costume, products, retailers, cafes and food. In the 1980s, magazines and comics adopted this fashion of writing for packaging and advertising. However in case your writing about wildlife you can see fewer websites that specialize in that topic. Sometimes with sites like SheIn the quality isn’t the perfect however, these prices are incredibly low.
For us, Kawaii Amai is a neighborhood crammed with treasure troves of top quality hand-picked cute & kawaii merchandise, specifically coated for you our most dear buyer. More Info : Do not often should pay customer charges. Hi there Kitty & Pals have arrived at the ARTBOX Cafe in Brighton, UK with super cute food, adorable decor and a shop stuffed with Sanrio treats! The Tremendous Cute E book of Kawaii is our first e-book! If Alice in Wonderland is your favourite guide you may love these kawaii picks with bunny plush, e book bag, crochet sample, stickers and more. A brand new methodology to extend their rankings grew to become increasingly crucial. The rationale for this is commonly times the advertising director lacks the knowledge to promote the group in a approach that is conducive to attracting online web surfers each globally to extend general franchise places but in addition regional advertising and marketing that coincides with the most recent developments similar to Myspace, Linkedin, Fb, on-line video, social bookmarking, distinctive article submission and targeted press launch submission. It’s not only a means of escape and denial, but additionally a technique to combat back against the curtailment of risk. Whereas keyword research can make it easier to uncover the keywords it's best to use when creating what you are promoting content, it’s also vital to have an understanding of how your industry competitors are using these similar key phrases and the successes they’re attaining with their very own strategy.
It’s also important that the various search engines see that your content material reflects your keyword meta tags, so use your most important keywords in the primary part of your site, such as the homepage Empire Components. Utilizing native key phrases to rank higher within the search outcomes. That you must take a holistic view of the worth your web site offers to users, then optimize your content material so that it will get the results you need. Selecting a selection ends in a full web page refresh. There are several filtering options accessible together with keyword textual content, exclude keywords, exclude adult concepts, common monthly searches, competitors, Ad impression share and top of page bid. To get the Mac App Store, click the Apple icon at the highest left of the screen, then select "software replace." After a dialog field seems, click on the "set up" button. As long as your mail recipients also have e-mail software program that is MIME-compliant (and most e-mail software is), you can swap recordsdata containing attachments automatically. You'll be able to tweak your title to spice up CTR and additional improve your keyword rankings. Considered one of an important components of competitive keyword analysis is to know your audience and what they’re concerned about.
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It was Muslim civilians that had been the first victims of the insurrection—massacred in Galati in Moldavia in February 1821—and more were targeted by insurgent bands over the following months in the Morea, central Greece, and parts of Thessaly, many of them killed as they tried to leave the villages and towns they had long lived in. The Morea remained the center of the uprising and there the ethnic balance was reversed: Muslims were in a small minority—just over 40,000 out of a population of some 400,000. The slaughter in Tripolitsa after it fell to the Greeks must have taken the number of Muslims killed in the first months of the war to over 20,000. Dimitrios Ypsilantis and his aide Alexander Kantakuzinos had reminded the Greek fighters that 'it was a law of all nations, and especially of us Christians, not to maltreat the enemy when they surrendered to us'. But massacres in cold blood followed the Greek take over of Kalavryta, Neokastro, Tripolitsa, Corinth, Athens, and elsewhere.
Part of the reason was obvious—the desire for revenge. The French philhellene Philippe Jourdain was not surprised that the Greeks, having been mistreated and scorned over centuries by their Ottoman masters, should have returned the favor. Muslim violence against Greeks had often gone unpunished: the notorious Tripolitsa enforcer Ali Tsekouras had combined policing, extortion, and outright sadism at the expense of the region's hapless Christians for years. Disdain toward the Christian reaya was widespread among the Muslim population, and the memoir of a young Greek boy enslaved in the household of a bey of Patras shows the habitual contempt addressed on a daily basis to a 'Christian dog'. A unique wartime account allows us a glimpse inside the mind of an Ottoman cavalryman, a freelancer who served in central Rumeli and Evvia. He saw fighting the 'infidel' as a combination of religious duty and moneymaking, and he records that when he cut off his first Greek head, his father congratulated him: 'Let us cut off many more infidels' heads.'
Vengeance brought out a casual ferocity in ordinary Greeks that took aback even those whose devotion to their cause was unquestioned. A shaken Thomas Gordon described the attackers in Tripolitsa as 'mad with vindictive rage': 'their insatiable cruelty knew no bounds and seemed to inspire them with a superhuman energy for evil'. Ambrosios Frantzis, cleric and Etairist, searched to understand how people he knew could have forgotten that murder was a sin. Some, he reckoned later, killed because they remembered their own sufferings, or those of relatives, but others were simply offended by the way their captives still talked down to them as if they were inferiors: 'They spoke to some of the ordinary Greeks saying 'Hey, you damn Christians!' [Vre Romaioi!] as if to say to them 'Slaves!' That expression 'Vre Romaioi' the Greeks could not bear to hear.' There was a widespread sense that it was time for their former masters to learn their place.
The Filiki Etaireia had preached the obligation of religious hatred among its members from the start. 'I swear that I will nurture in my heart irreconcilable hatred against the tyrants of my Fatherland, their supporters and those who think like them,' ran the Etaireia oath, mandating that the true lover of the Greek nation had a duty to hate the Turks. In the Peloponnese, they sang 'No Turk shall remain in the Morea, nor in the entire world'. Reports of the despoilation of the patriarch's corpse strengthened the desire to wreak collective retribution, and pamphlets circulated among the Greeks in which the dead patriarch urged the Christian faithful to commit ever greater acts of revenge.
Collective death haunted the Greek revolutionary imagination. The slogan 'Freedom or Death' was a pledge to die rather than surrender, but it was also a warning that not to fight wa itself tantamount to a living death. Others worried about the very real threat of annihilation. The Patriarch Gregory V had foreseen that the Etaireia's plans would lead to Greek communities being wiped out; Russian diplomats had been warning about an Ottoman 'war of extermination' of the empire's Christians almost from the start. Nor was this fear entirely baseless since the sultan indicated early on that he felt within his rights in ordering the killing and enslaving of disobedient Christian populations en masse. The prospect of communal death at the hands of the Ottomans—a fear shared by Greeks in the Peloponnese, Rumeli, and Asia Minor alike—was unquestionably one of the ways in which an idea of the Greek nation emerged. It created a grouping united in its shared fate, and united too perhaps through the immortality that would be conferred by that.
~Mark Mazower [buy]
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Destiny 2 Legend Difficulty Just Got a Whole Lot Easier, Finally
According to recent upgrades from Bungie, the Legendary difficulty of Destiny 2 has suddenly become noticeably easier. The adjustments were made as a result of player criticism that suggested the FPS game's attempt to make content more difficult for its Lightfall expansion went too far, making some tasks feel exceedingly difficult or, in one case, practically impossible while playing with a Destiny 2 fireteam.
“We’ve been keeping an eye on community feedback on overall difficulty since Lightfall’s launch, and we have some changes in today’s update and future updates that retune certain experiences,” says the blog post, which is part of development team’s weekly This Week at Bungie (TWAB) series. “In today’s update, we’ve reduced Legend and Master enemy HP scalars for non-boss units, which we felt were a little higher than we liked:
- Reduced the enemy HP scalar in all non-raid/dungeon Legend and Master activities by 10%.
- Reduced the co-op enemy HP scalar in Legendary Avalon by 33% in a full fireteam.”
These are welcome changes, as the game’s Legendary difficulty was frustrating to Destiny 2 Guardians of all skill sets, ranging from casuals to seasoned players.
It’s notable that Bungie specifically addressed the game’s Avalon Mission, part of the Destiny 2 Vexcalibur Exotic glaive quest, and its difficulty scaling. While many people thought that the base difficulty of the mission was challenging enough, others noted that when they played on Legendary difficulty with a full fireteam, the experience became quite the slog. Apparently, Bungie agrees, as it reduced the Legendary mission damage scalar by a whopping one-third.
Players who completed the game’s other activities on Legendary difficulty are sure to feel frustrated knowing that they could have saved themselves some pain and effort by waiting for Bungie to implement today’s hotfix. Regardless, the change is likely to improve the game’s overall health.
Often when Bungie makes decisions around things such as difficulty scaling, it does so by looking at not only player feedback on forums like Reddit but also at player data. Therefore, the changes may have not only been in response to vocal feedback but also to high numbers of people either quitting these activities when attempting them on Legendary difficulty or simply choosing not to play them in the first place.
These questions of difficulty impact player experiences regarding the game’s expansion, which has also received criticism for its perceived weak storyline and failure to answer questions about a mysterious object called The Veil in Destiny 2 Lightfall. Metacritic reviews for the expansion across platforms range between 66% and 70%.
The TWAB also notes that the game has adjusted its Destiny 2 Commendations once again. Bungie reduced Hawthorne’s weekly challenge Commendations target from 20 to 5, removing objectives that required players to give Commendations to earn Guardian Ranks 7, 8, and 9 and lessening the number of Commendations for Rank 7, 8, and 9 to 100, 250, and 500 respectively.
In the TWAB, senior design lead Chris Proctor also shared a preview of forthcoming weapon balancing changes. These changes will impact PvE primaries to make it easier to kill red bar enemies at Legendary and Heroic difficulty. Many players feel primaries have been weak overall for some time. The changes primarily impact auto rifles, pulse rifles, hand cannons, sidearms, and scout rifles.
The team will also adjust Aggressive Frame SMGs, fusion rifles, trace rifles, and sniper rifles. The Final Warning sidearm will no longer be able to track targets through barricades, and the team will also make adjustments to Tarrabah and Revision Zero.
Notably, Bungie will introduce reticle changes as of season 21. The TWAB offered a preview video of what to expect.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I74mm8m5gyg
These forthcoming changes should impact numerous weapons, including several weapons on the Destiny 2 Lightfall Exotics list. Visit our guide to learn how to obtain the multiplayer game‘s best new weapons, as Destiny 2 season 20 is quickly approaching its halfway point.
Read the full article
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hi! i love your stuff so very much!!
can i request the angst alphabet with zoro?
thank uuuuu ❤️
Angst Alphabet - Roronoa Zoro
a/n: hiya!!! thank y’all so much!!<3 hope you enjoy this 😌
A-Accident (would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?)
He may not blame himself entirely if you were to die in an accident. But Zoro would think himself weak. How could he possibly become the words greatest swordsman if he can’t even protect his s/o.
B-Break up (How would they break up with you?)
Before breaking up with you Zoro would start to distance himself a little to try and make it easier on the both of you for when he does break up with you. Other than that, he is likely to just come right out and say exactly what he wants to say. He’s brutally honest and straightforward so he won’t try to sugar coat anything or beat around the bush.
C-Crying (how would they make you cry?)
Zoro does this horrible thing where he likes to overwork himself to the point of exhaustion. No matter how many times you tell him to stop and express your concerns for his health, he just doesn’t listen. It hurts seeing the man you love more than anything exhausting himself.
D-Death (how would they react to your death?)
Speaking of overworking, after your death he works himself harder than he ever has before. Day in, day out he’s training. He trains every possible minute to distract himself from your death and make himself stronger to ensure he never loses a loved one ever again.
E-Emotion (what is one emotion they would try to hide the most and how would they do it?)
Being openly vulnerable is something Zoro doesn’t like to do. He really only shows his vulnerable side with his s/o and even then, it took him a really long time to do it.
F-Fight (do you two ever fight? How big are the fights? What do you fight about? Etc.)
Very rarely do your fights get serious. Your fights are often just light-hearted teases and jokes towards one another. Where its always followed by laughter or eye rolls.
If your fight was to get serious, it would result in a lot of yelling at one another and with Zoros blunt personality, a lot of hurtful words (which he ALWAYS apologizes for in the end).
G-Guilt (what is the biggest thing they feel guilty about?)
The events of Sabaody weigh heavily on Zoro’s mind. He was the first one to get sent away by Kuma, so feels as though he failed not only his captain, but the whole crew as well. He wasn’t there to protect them, to help them. Instead, he was a complete failure. And, because of his weakness his captain had to fight and suffer alone.
H-Heartbreak (what would cause them pain in the relationship? How would they deal during a break-up?)
During a break-up Zoro does what he would in any other situation: workout. He keeps himself occupied by working out, and actually he drinks a little bit more than usual too. It could even get to the point where the rest of the crew feels as though they need to step in.
I-Injured (how would they react if you are badly injured?).
He turns dark. Basically, a demon in human form. Moves you from wherever you are so that you’re out of the way of more danger AND THEN HE TIES HIS BANDANA ROUND HIS HEAD BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS SERIOUS.
J-Jealousy (what do they do if they are jealous?)
Its ridiculously obvious when this swordsman is jealous. He gets super grumpy and tries to intimidate the other person. He’ll stand right behind you and honestly, that’s intimidating enough on its own. But, if the other person doesn’t get the hint he’ll place his hand, ever so casually, on his swords.
K-Kill (would they kill for revenge?)
Ever since joining the Straw Hats, Zoro doesn’t kill others (its not something Luffy wants his nakama to do, so Zoro doesn’t do it). However, that mindset goes straight out the window depending on who he’s taking revenge for (i.e if it’s for his s/o).
Most of the time Zoro just leaves them wishing they were dead. (this seems to be a common thing amongst One Piece characters).
L-Loss (what is their greatest loss?)
I would actually say losing some of his pride. Zoro is a poud man, who refuses to lower his head to anyone. However, after receiving the message from Luffy to train and meet up again in two years, Zoro knew he had to lower his and beg Mihawk for his guidance. It was definitely a hit on his pride, but, honestly… He doesn’t regret that one bit – anything for his captain.
M-Mistake (what is the worst mistake they ever made with you?).
During one of the few big fights you guys have had things got really heated and the fight ended up getting so off topic. Insults and mean words were being thrown out left and right. Zoro got so caught up in it all that he said something that targeted one of your deepest insecurities. He knew he had screwed up so badly when you walked away without even saying anything.
N-Nightmares (how often do they have them? What are they about? How do they deal with it?).
He doesn’t often get nightmares, but when he does they tend to be about Sabaody and when the crew got separated from one another (or really any other incident where he was unable to help properly). After he wakes up, he gets straight out of bed and starts working out – determined to make sure nothing like that ever happens again.
O-Outrage (how and why would they get mad at you?)
Zoro doesn’t get mad at you for much, mainly if you pay any attention to that shitty cook, like seriously, he doesn’t understand why you have to give Sanji any attention when Zoro is literally your boyfriend….
P-Past (what has happened in your relationship that changed the way you saw each other?)
Even though you never found out exactly what happened on Thriller Bark (its something Zoro refuses to tell even you), it made you realize that you need to step up and not rely on Zoro so much because although he may act like it, he’s not actually indestructible.
Q-Quality (what is their most dangerous/toxic quality?).
(SORRY I FEEL LIKE I’M BEING VERY REPETITIVE HERE AH BUT YEAH…) He never allows himself to heal from an injury properly. He always starts training immediately despite Chopper’s best attempts to stop him.
R-Rejection (how would they react to you rejecting their confession (or the other way around)).
If you were to reject his confession, he’d probably try to justify it to himself by saying “yeah actually it’s probably better this way. I don’t need anymore distractions in life.” But, he would definitely be a little down in the dumps about it. He made himself vulnerable for this and it didn’t work the way he wanted.
S-Scars (battle or self-inflicted)
Zoro has many scars. The scar over his left eye was a result of his two years of training with Mihawk, though no one knows the exact cause of it – only that it appeared during those two years. Zoro also has a scar on his chest from his very first encounter with Mihawk. He may also have scars on his ankles from the time he tried to chop of his own legs on Little Garden (I can’t recall if these are actually scars or if they healed completely).
T-Trust (have they ever broken your trust?).
This answer is short and sweet: No. Never. Not even in his wildest of dreams. Loyalty is basically Zoro’s entire character. He would never violate your trust. If he did… well Zoro, wouldn’t be Zoro anymore. (only thing he’s done that comes close is keep you from finding out what really happened to him on Thriller Bark).
U-Urge (how badly do they want to see you after you guys separated?)
Honestly, he is probably one of the few who are able to cope with missing you the longest. He still wants to see you of course – your presence is reassuring, so he definitely prefers when you are around – but he can handle not seeing you for a while by focusing on the task at hand and just remembering that this separation isn’t permanent.
V-Vicious (what do they do when they lash out on you?).
Similar to what I’ve said before, he says some really harsh things. He has always been blunt and straightforward, but when he’s lashing out at you he tends to make things a little more personal.
W-Weak (what makes them feel weak how do they try to avoid it?).
Zoro hates losing. Not because he’s competitive or anything but because losing makes him feel weak. Whenever he loses he feels so far away from his goal. To make up for this he works out. He trains and trains and trains until he can no longer move. He will keep going until he never loses another fight.
X-X-ray (what do they hate and show it most obviously?)
Obviously, he shows his hate of Sanji very frequently. The two pirates are constantly arguing and at one anothers throat.
But another thing he hates is people getting in the way of his dream. He agreed to join Luffy so long as he didn’t get in the way of his dream – and if luffy were to get in the way Zoro made him promise to commit seppuku (although whether or not I think Zoro would actually make him do that anymore is a different thing that I could go on about for a while so imma stop there…).
Y-Yearn (what is one thing that they want but can’t have?)
Zoro wants to be the world’s greatest/strongest swordsman. It’s not currently a title he can have, however, day-by-day he is getting just that much closer.
Z-Zero (what do they do/say in your dying moments?)
I don’t think a lot is said or done by Zoro in your final moments. He probably whispers a few thank you’s and I’m sorry’s. He won’t mourn properly until he’s completely alone.
#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece headcanons#roronoa zoro#one piece imagines#angst alphabet#one piece alphabet
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Liquid Courage & Promises Kept
Rating: Teen and Up
Words: 3558
Read it on AO3
Tagging @today-in-fic
December 20, 1999
She’d been standoffish lately. Well, she’d been standoffish today, yesterday she was actually borderline flirty. He was having a hard time reading her from one day to the next, unsure if the difference in her demeanor was real or if it only existed in his head. At times he was sure she returned his affection; the flutter of her eyelashes over her icy blue eyes and the slight part of her pouty lips appearing as an invitation, and he’d almost accepted it several times. Almost. Something always got in the way; a knock at the door, the ring of a phone, the sting of a bee or the sudden aversion of her gaze, self consciousness dragging her back inside herself and away from him. He thought he could see the internal struggle in the set of her shoulders and the tuck of her chin. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, but she couldn’t admit it to herself, and he wasn’t going to push her. He’d waited this long, what was a bit longer?
Today, the typical relief that comes with a Friday afternoon was overshadowed by her businesslike demeanor, the perfectly polite but impersonal way she answered his questions, and the thorough but unemotional way she engaged in conversation with him. The more she withdrew, the more he advanced, grasping for some feedback, some response that soothed his feeling of rejection.
“Any big plans this weekend?” He inquired, resorting to small talk, which they typically didn’t need.
She didn’t look up from the file she was reviewing. “I’m getting dinner with an old friend from undergrad tomorrow. That’s about it.” Her tone was flat and disinterested, but not annoyed. She didn’t ask him about his own plans, not that he’d have had anything to share.
“Scully….are you okay? Did I do something?” He hated the whiny tone in his voice, the insecure way he sought her validation.
She looked up then, her brow knit in confusion. “No, why do you ask?”
“You just seem kind of…off? Distracted maybe? You don’t seem like yourself.”
He saw her sit up a bit straighter, just a touch more life enter her eyes. “Sorry, Mulder. I’m fine, it’s just been a long week I guess.” She offered him a thin smile. She was placating him, that he could tell, but he still wasn’t sure why.
He returned her tight-lipped, not at all genuine smile, nodding. “Glad to hear it.”
They finished out their workday, she wished him a good weekend and left the office quickly, before he had the chance to attempt walking out with her. Part of him wondered if “dinner with an old friend” was a euphemism; did she have a date? Maybe she was going out with an ex? He’d certainly been less than supportive (not to mention mature) when he’d been aware of her going out with someone in the past, so it would make sense that she’d hide it from him. Heaving a defeated sigh, he locked up the office and headed into a weekend full of boredom and misplaced jealousy that he didn’t have any right to feel.
**********************************
Saturday he had slept in, played some basketball at the Y, and stopped by to check out the Gunmen’s latest research to pass the time. It was now half past 8 and he realized he hadn’t eaten dinner yet, so grabbed his keys and headed to a restaurant in DC that had the best burgers, in his opinion. The fact that Scully was probably out on her date right now entered his mind at regular intervals, and he pushed it away, wanting to give her space to have an actual life outside of him and The X Files. Regardless of his feelings for her, above all else he wanted her to be happy, even if it was with someone else. The thought of having to meet some guy she was dating and act like he didn’t want to rip his face off made his stomach turn.
He parked in a 15 minute space just outside the restaurant and headed into the lobby. It was a busy Saturday night crowd, noisy and boisterous with various sporting events playing on several TVs and people shouting over each other to be heard. He placed his order, to go, with the hostess and then leaned against the wall to survey the scene while he waited. It was hard to say what made him feel worse, the families with children dragging french fries through lakes of ketchup, or the couples with their heads titled close together in intimate conversation, oblivious to anyone and anything but each other. His solo status was always painfully obvious in a setting like this. Most of the time it didn’t bother him, but today, knowing Scully was somewhere with someone else, it felt like shit.
And then he heard a laugh ring out like a bell. It was a sound he knew in his bones. One that, while infrequent, was a balm on his soul. Well, usually it was, anyway. But when he turned toward the sound and saw Scully, one hand to her chest while the other lay flat against the table top for stability, leaning toward the recipient of this sweet sound with her teeth bared in a joyful grin, his heart sank. She looked completely incredible, her hair mostly pulled back with a few strands loose around her face, a blue v-neck sweater clinging to her tiny frame and showing just a hint of cleavage. She was leaning in closer to a man whose back was to Mulder, removing the hand from her chest and placing it on his arm as she practically fell over in hysterics. He had never seen her like this, and envy twisted in his rib cage. Who the fuck was this guy that could make Scully laugh like that? He forced himself to look away, to stare at the gaudy rainbow checkerboard tiles on the floor. He checked his watch to calculate how much longer it might be before his food was ready and he could get the fuck out of here. Mercifully, the sound of her laughter subsided and he willed himself not to look that way again; he didn’t want to see something he’d never be able to erase from his memory.
He was doing such a good job pretending she wasn’t there that he was genuinely startled when he felt her cool hand thread around his elbow, linking his arm in hers. He looked to her and saw that her eyes were glassy and a little bit red. She was drunk.
“Come here often?” She drawled, her smile and the weight of her body leaning against him sending a wave of electricity down his torso.
“I might ask you the same” he countered, working very hard to seem casual, though he probably didn’t need to, given her state.
“Come sit with me.” She ordered. The contrast between her behavior at work yesterday and the open, seeking way her eyes roamed his face now was jarring. He was so confused by her signals.
“Nah, I don’t want to intrude. You’re out with your friend.” He couldn’t bring himself to say “date.”
She waved her hand in the air, brushing away the concern. “It’s fine, Mulder, he wants to meet you, come say hi.”
So she’d talked to her date about him? He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved, flattered, or weirded out. He turned to tell the hostess where he’d be before allowing her to pull him by the arm over to her table. As they approached, a second man sat down at the table, appearing to have just returned from the bathroom.
“Guys, this is Mulder!” She said with a level of excitement that seemed, to him, to be unnecessary.
“Mulder!” They both repeated as though they were reunited with an old friend. One was tall and blonde with an athletic build, the exact kind of guy he’d expect Scully to be interested in. The other was shorter and lean with a bald head and calloused hands. After an awkward beat where he looked at her expectantly, Scully remembered her manners and began introductions.
“Mulder, this is Rob, he and I were good friends in undergrad” she motioned towards the tall blonde man, and then to the shorter, bald one. “ This is his husband, Michael.”
A grin spread across Mulder’s face as he understood that this was most definitely not a date. He stuck out his hand and shook both theirs enthusiastically, agreeing to Scully’s insistence that he sit down as she stole another chair from a nearby table.
“I have to pee” Scully announced suddenly, leaving the table. Mulder looked after her in amused surprise at her lack of decorum. This was a side of his partner he had not had the pleasure of seeing yet.
Mulder stood to remove his coat, noticing Rob discreetly flick his eyes over his body as he did so. He always appreciated being checked out, even if it wasn’t from his target audience. As he sat back down, Michael spoke.
“It’s nice to meet you Mulder. Dana has told us so much about you.”
Mulder smirked self-consciously. “Nothing bad I hope.”
“Nothing that we can’t see with our own eyes” Rob remarked, giving him another once-over with an appreciative nod of his head. Michael jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.
“Sounds like you do a lot of interesting work together” Michael offered, distracting from Rob’s remark.
“Uh, yeah, something like that” he responded cooly, seeing the hostess approaching with his order.
Scully returned from the bathroom and plopped down beside him dramatically, putting her hand on his thigh. He eyed her skeptically, but didn’t move it.
“I gotta go, I’m parked in a 15 minute spot. It was good to meet you both. You’ll make sure this one gets home okay?”
“Of course” Michael answered, sliding his arm around his husband’s shoulders. “Rob is a drunk Dana whisperer, from the stories I’ve heard.”
“No one wants to hear those stories” Scully warned, draining her glass. “Anyway, I’m going with you, Mulder.”
Mulder looked at her quizzically “oh are you?”
She gave him a coy smile and nodded, her eyes bleary from the booze.
“How about I take you home instead, party girl.” He stood and put his jacket back on.
Scully shrugged, accepting this alternative, and hugged her friends goodbye. Rob held on to her a little longer than Michael, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle before she told him she’d call him tomorrow. They left the restaurant arm in arm, and when they reached his car outside he opened the door for her to climb in first.
“So chivalrous” she mused, beaming at him.
He shook his head and laughed at her condition. In the moment, she was the antithesis of everything he knew her to be. The Scully he knew would roll her eyes and pity this blatant show of flirtation. Throughout the 15 minute drive to her apartment, she continued to paw at him, sliding her hand up his thigh until he batted it away. He settled on holding her hand, which seemed to make her happy and distracted her from more nefarious contact. When he pulled up outside her building, he expected her to get out and go inside, but instead she turned to him and asked “aren’t you going to walk me to my door?” It seemed to be asked in earnest, absent any innuendo, so he agreed. She held on to his arm and leaned into his side as they made their way in, her footing unsteady in her heels. He took her keys and unlocked the door for her, his feet planted firmly in the hallway. He was intrigued by her behavior and he could admit that he was very turned on by it, but she was drunk, and there was no way in hell he was going to take advantage of that.
“Come inside” she suggested, pulling on his arm.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Scully. You get some rest, call me tomorrow and let me know you’re alive. I’ll bring you some coffee and a breakfast burrito.”
She pushed her lower lip out in a little pout and stepped toward him, sliding her arms up his and on to his shoulders. The height of her heels compensated quite a bit for their usual discrepancy so that she only had to stretch a tiny bit for them to be face to face.
“What cha doin, Scully?” He asked, his mind telling him that this was a bad idea, while his body urged him to proceed.
“Just giving you a hug. Is that allowed?” Her voice was sultry and smelled like whiskey.
“A hug. Sure, I guess that’s okay.” His hands found her waist. Just a hug. They’d hugged hundreds of times.
She slid her hands around his neck and pressed her cheek to his and the rest of her body followed, breast to chest, pelvis to pelvis, thigh to thigh. This was not their typical hug. She was draped over him, her breath hot on his ear. He was afraid if this went on much longer, she’d be able to feel how much he wanted her. She pulled her head back, keeping the rest of her tucked against him, and looked at his face. God, she looked beautiful, if not a bit out of it. He willed himself to pull away, but he couldn’t, not yet. She leaned in and brushed her lips across his. Electric. His body tensed, knowing it couldn’t go on. Next she pressed her soft full pout against his lips, her fingers digging into his hair. He sighed, and then pulled away, stepping back from her, breaking contact.
She looked at him with a mix of embarrassment and confusion. Not wanting to send the wrong signal, he took both her hands in his. “You’re drunk, Scully. It’s not right. I don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret tomorrow.”
She held his gaze, her eyes watery and tired. “I won’t regret it, Mulder.”
“Well if that’s the case, kiss me sometime when you’re sober and I promise I won’t turn you down.” He was smiling at her, captivated by this moment where he felt like he could say anything, where they could be completely honest for once.
“Why haven’t you ever kissed me, Mulder?” There was sadness in her voice. Regret.
He took a breath before responding. “I guess…I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”
“I do. I want you to.” He was afraid that he was about to find out she was a tearful drunk.
“Okay, I promise that I will. Soon.”
She nodded solemnly, and he pulled her into a hug, a real one, with her cheek squished against his shoulder and her hair tickling his nose. Keeping his hands on her shoulders, he stepped back and looked at her, asking “are you going to remember this conversation tomorrow?”
She blinked slowly, her eyes working to focus on his face. “I think maybe not.”
He laughed, stepping through into her apartment and leading her to her bedroom, where he waited outside the door as she changed into pajamas. Once she was tucked safely in bed with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol within arms reach, he went out to the kitchen and got a piece of paper to leave her a note. By the time he returned to leave it next to the glass of water, she was already asleep.
***********************************
Scully woke in the morning to find her mouth dry and sticky. As she sat up, her head lurched and squeezed her brain in protest. She looked around, unsure how she got here. The last thing she remembered was spotting Mulder at the restaurant, and then….nothing. Turning to check the time, she was relieved to see a glass of water and she chugged it down, stopping halfway to take two of the Tylenol; she must have put them there before she went to sleep. As she turned to drape her legs over the side of the bed and prepare to stand, she spotted a slip of paper on her nightstand and unfolded it.
Hey Party Girl,
I’m willing to bed you have a mean hangover. Whether you remember it or not, I did promise you a breakfast burrito. Call me when you’re awake.
Mulder
Her eyes went big. Mulder was here? She felt strange not being able to remember it, and hoped she hadn’t done anything embarrassing. First she dragged herself to the bathroom to brush her teeth and then took a shower, pulling last night’s mascara from her eyelashes. As she stepped out, already feeling a little better, the phone rang.
“Hello?” She cringed at the volume of her own voice.
“Hey pretty lady, you make it home okay?” It was Rob.
“Apparently so, though I don’t remember much of anything. What happened after Mulder showed up?”
Rob chuckled softly and her stomach turned. What had she done? There was a scuffling sound on the other end of the line and she could hear Michael say “stop torturing her!” Before he wrangled the phone away from Rob.
“It wasn’t that bad, Dana, Rob is just being a jerk. You got a little handsy with him then told him to take you home. We could tell he wasn’t going to take advantage of you.”
“Uh, what do you mean by handsy, exactly?” She was starting to feel nauseous.
“I think you had your hand on his thigh and you were making some serious bedroom eyes at him, but that’s it, at least at the restaurant. I can’t speak to what happened after you left.”
“Oh god” she whispered.
There was more scuffling and then Rob was back on the line “Look, honey, it’s clear that you both want to be with each other so I don’t see the issue. Just get over yourself and fuck him already.”
“Right, thanks Rob, that’s really helpful.” She rubbed her free hand over her throbbing temples.
“It was good to see you, Dana. We should do it again sometime.”
“Yeah, it may be a while before I can stomach alcohol, Rob.”
“You know my number. Bye.”
He hung up and she replaced the phone on the receiver, dropping her head into her hands with a groan. Dragging herself to her bedroom, she put on sweats and a t shirt, brushed her hair, and then flopped down on to the couch, already predicting it would be a wasted day. She was too old for this. When she heard Mulder’s familiar tap tap on the door, she considered staying very quiet until he went away, pretending not to be home.
“Scully, I know you’re home, your car is outside.” She heard him call out. Fuck.
Fluffing her hair a bit as she walked to the door so she wouldn’t look like a drowned rat, she opened it and found him looking adorable in jeans and a blue sweater, a paper bag in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. Her eyes went big at the idea of food and she realized she was starving.
“Well it’s clear the burrito is welcome, do I also have permission to enter the premises?”
He was grinning at her in a way she found both endearing and infuriating. She hated not knowing what had happened. Taking the bag and cup from his hands, she turned and walked to the couch, leaving the door open as an invitation for him to follow.
“Thanks” she muttered, taking a sip of the coffee before setting it on the table and unwrapping the burrito.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, eyeing her curiously.
“Like I drank way too much” she returned without looking at him.
He nodded knowingly. “Do you remember…everything?”
She shot him a wide-eyed look. “What is there to remember?”
He shrugged “nothing, just wondering.”
“Look, Mulder, I don’t really remember anything after you showed up at the restaurant and if I did something embarrassing I’d rather you just tell me now instead of dragging this out. So what did I do?”
He shook his head nonchalantly. “Nothing, Scully. You were very pleasant, actually.” He smiled at her and she knew there was more to it, but he was taking the path of allowing her to remain blissfully ignorant, and she was thankful for it.
He turned on the TV and they sat quietly and watched the news while she ate and drank, slowly feeling more human as the minutes passed. He saw her check the time and took that as his cue to leave, and she walked him to the door.
“Thanks, Mulder, both for getting me home safe and for breakfast.”
“Anytime. You really don’t remember anything, do you?”
She gave him a rueful look while shaking her head slowly.
“Well, in the event that anything does come back to you, I want you to know that I intend to keep my promise.”
“That really means nothing to me Mulder, but thanks I guess?”
He chuckled a little, then turned and left her to nurse her hangover in peace.
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PGR - OC
I got so inspired by everyone’s creativity that I created my own OC ^^” Even though she’s a member of the Purifying Force, I hope she’ll still be received warmly. Special thanks to @punishing-gray-raven-ocs for their detailed posts about character creation that really made me think about Lydias!
Warning: I may have gone a bit overboard with the detail. It’s a long read! Also, I threw in a not-so-subtle reference to the most traumatic Memory Rescue mission lmao. So proceed with caution, I guess HAHA
Name Lydias: Umbral
Type Offensive Support-type Construct
Service time 1 year
Psychological age 24
Activation date 15 March
Height 167 cm
Weight 59 kg
Vital fluid type O
Faction Purifying Force
Rank A
Weapon Chakrams (preferred) / Gun
Damage type 70% Dark, 30% Physical
Lydias is a support-type Construct modelled after Watanabe’s Astral frame. She has extreme stealth capabilities and excels at tracking, making her ideal for the execution of rogue and infected Constructs.
Her missions mostly involve infiltration and spying, although she’s also been deployed on assassination missions. Those orders come straight from Nikola and their records are kept top-secret, inaccessible even to Bianca.
Her frame is designed for long-range sniping and comes equipped with visual accuracy enhancements and superb calculative powers. However, Lydias prefers to engage her targets in close combat. Killing Constructs from afar feels cruel and cold, like they really are meaningless machines instead of former comrades.
She truly believes in the good of the Purifying Force, but hates the things she has to do. She doesn’t feel like she belongs, but also can’t see a future for herself anywhere else.
Her fighting style is very graceful, featuring a lot of spins and flips that are reminiscent of a dance. Her signature move is called “Blade Dance.”
B A C K G R O U N D
Lydias was born to a wealthy family in Babylonia. Her mother joined the war effort as a Commandant shortly after she was born and is known as the leader of the elite task force, Cybele. Since then, Lydias has always wanted to follow in her mother’s famous footsteps.
Originally a Commandant of the Black Wolves, a certain incident caused her to give up the position and apply for reconstruction. Despite having low compatibility for Tantalum-193, her application was approved after negotiations with Nikola. Following her surgery, she was transferred to the Purifying Force.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Shows affection through actions rather than words. Bakes cakes for the humans of Babylonia in her free time
Philosophical, often ponders on the nature of humans and of the war
Likes to make dirty jokes and tease others
Obedient to a fault because she doesn’t trust her own judgement
Comes across as cold, but is just awkward with introductions
Doesn't think very highly of herself. Ignores it when other Constructs call her "traitorous hunting dog" but secretly thinks they're right
Loves the sea and the fathomless depths yet to be explored. Likes to go swimming at every opportunity
Prefers to work alone, but overprotective of her comrades when in a team. Frequently throws herself in harm’s way to shield her teammates. Knows it’s not good, but is too haunted by her past
Trusts easily, but is very guarded with her heart
Knows how to dance a lot of old-school styles like ballroom and ballet, but is too shy to ask anyone to practice with her
S E C R E T S
Has memorised a lot of poetry from before the Punishing Virus outbreak
Gets intensely lonely and jealous when seeing close squad camaraderie like Gray Raven’s
Avoids Kamui because he reminds her of someone she’s lost
Has spied on Watanabe extensively under Babylonian orders and is deeply fascinated by him
Doesn’t trust Nikola, but is unable to disobey his commands
Secretly harbours doubts about Babylonia’s mission to reclaim Earth
Has obtained special permission to download the data of the Black Wolves and often reads the records to keep them alive in her heart
V O I C E L I N E S
“Team leader? No, I refuse. You’re making a grave mistake.”
“I’m not suited for protecting people.”
“My opinion on the Forsaken? They’re hardworking, loyal, and--Nevermind. We seem to share a similar goal.”
“The Black Wolves? Where did you hear of that name?! Don’t mention it again!”
“I baked a cake today. Would you like some?”
“Yes, I can dance. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell the others…”
“I can teach you to dance. Privately, if you’d like. Haha, just kidding.”
“Becoming a Construct was a decision I made rashly. I don’t necessarily regret it, but…”
“Are we really doing the right thing? This endless war… All these years… What have we really achieved?”
INTERLUDE
D U S K F A L L
A voice cracked over the intercom. “...dant…Com...ant...Commandant, do you hear me?!”
Lydias blinked. The urgency in his voice caught her off guard. Ferdinand kept his cool even in the most dire of situations. Something was very wrong. “Tell me, Ferdie.” Static. “Ferds? Come through!” Nothing. Communications had been poor ever since they’d entered this area, but they’d managed until now. For it to suddenly fail like that… it couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Shit,” she said, turning to the other two Constructs with her. “On guard, guys. Something’s coming and comms are down.”
Ilya grimaced. “Sure it’s not one of Ferdinand’s pranks again?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Flora offered, even as she tightened her grip on her lance. “Pesky little bastard would find it hilarious.” Lydias said nothing. She was too tense. There was a taste in the air, a metallic tang that churned in her belly. Sweat dripped into her eye. Suddenly, a hand slapped her on the back. “Relax, Commandant,” Ilya chuckled. “We’ll protect you like always. No need to be so scared all the time.”
Something in her loosened, just a bit. “Shouldn’t I be the one protecting you?” she retorted, trying to project confidence. “You guys with your fragile little M.I.N.Ds?” Flora laughed, a deep-belly rumble that Lydias loved. The knot in her stomach unravelled some more. “You do that, Commandant,” Flora said. “We’ll just twirl our pointy sticks at the bad guys.”
Lydias was just about to say something snarky when she caught movement in the corner of her eye. She swirled, gun at the ready. There was still no word from Ferdinand. “I’m sensing a large Corrupted force in our perimeter,” Ilya reported. His voice had lost its casual lilt. “They’ve got us surrounded.”
Lydias cursed. “How’s that Memory retrieval coming along?”
“Slowly,” Ilya replied unhappily. Flora clicked her tongue. The Corrupted were visible now. They weren’t like anything Lydias had seen before. They carried advanced weapons - chainsaws and spears and bows - and seemed to be organised into phalanxes. Dread coiled in her belly. “We’ve been ambushed,” she breathed in horror. “Ferdinand tried to warn us. They must have blocked off comms.”
“Well, shit,” Flora grunted. The Corrupted army was within gunshot range now. “When the fuck did they get so smart?”
“Someone must be leading them,” Ilya said. “How did the information leak?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Lydias said. “We need to retreat. Now.” A bullet flew by her head, burning the shell of her ear as it passed. Her heart hammered. “Back off,” Flora growled. She twirled her spear, eyes flashing as she impaled the Corrupted soldier. Beside her, Ilya stepped forward, fast as a flash, and stabbed one through the neck. Lydias fired off three shots, watching in grim satisfaction as two buried themselves in the heads of two infected Constructs.
The scene descended into chaos just as Ferdinand’s broken voice sounded in her ear. “...n...way! Comm...ant!”
-----------
Flora stumbled back. She was breathing heavily. Vital fluid leaked steadily from several places, staining her coat a rich purple. Ilya was behind her, grimacing. His left arm was gone, torn away at the shoulder. Sparks flew from the exposed wires within. Beside them, Lydias swayed unsteadily. She clutched at her stomach. Red blood seeped through her fingers. All their attempts to break through had failed. Things were looking more hopeless by the minute.
“Commandant,” Ilya said, voice strained. “Turn off my pain receptors.” Flora nodded. “Same here.” Lydias coughed wetly. Her vision was growing dim. “It’s dangerous,” she admitted, wishing she could shut off her own terrible pain. “But there’s no other choice.” She authorised the command. Her team’s face relaxed immediately. She met their determined gazes and nodded. “We’re all gonna go home. Together.”
Ilya smiled. Flora grinned. But there was a sadness in their faces Lydias didn’t want to acknowledge. Her connection with Ferdinand was still blocked. He could be dead for all she knew. She turned away from the thought. Just survive, Lydias. And take the Wolves home.
Together, the Black Wolves rose. Ilya with his dagger and Flora with her spear. Unseen by Lydias, they nodded to each other. An agreement, a pact. A promise. Renewed, they threw themselves at the Corrupted like cornered animals. Slowly, inch by painful inch, an exit was being forced open. Corrupted weapons dug into their bodies, but they pushed on.
Lydias fought beside them, swinging her chakrams haphazardly. Her gun had run out of ammo long ago. She stumbled, half-blind, and almost skewered herself on the end of a Corrupted sword. She could hardly think straight; blood loss was making her weak. Suddenly, a voice crackled in her mind. “Commandant!” Ferdinand’s voice tumbled through her hazy thoughts. “The signal jammer is gone. What’s your status?!”
Her heart soared, bringing with it a brief burst of clarity. “Ferdie! It’s an ambush. We need support!”
“I’ve already informed Babylonia,” he said urgently. “Reinforcement is on the way. I’m coming to you, Commandant. Just hold on!” His signal blinked to life, moving rapidly towards their location. Lydias smiled grimly. Ferdinand was on his way. Support was coming. Surely, they would be okay. They would make it out of this. She just had to hold on for a little longer.
Flora’s signal pulsed unsteadily and Ilya’s grew fainter with every breath. Lydias clung with desperation to the unstable M.I.N.Ds of her Wolves. I will protect you.
-----------
“Coming through!” A ray of energy tore through the Corrupted wave. Lydias spied Ferdinand’s face through the sea of blades. She almost wept with relief. “Retreat,” she said hoarsely, struggling to stay conscious. “Black Wolves, retreat!”
On cue, Ilya and Flora rushed through the tunnel, half-carrying Lydias with them. Between one ferocious breath and the next, they’d broken through the Corrupted circle. She tumbled bonelessly into Ferdinand’s open arms. He took a brief moment to survey her and paled. “The meeting point isn’t far,” he said. “Support will be there.” He picked up Lydias and turned to run, but Ilya and Flora didn’t follow.
“Sorry, but this is the end of the road for me,” Flora said wryly. “Didn’t think it’d end like this.” She spat out a wad of purple fluid. “At least these fuckers will go down with me.”
“And you get the privilege of dying by my side,” Ilya said primly, readjusting his grip on his dagger. Flora laughed, an edge of sadness in her voice. “Yeah, old man, I guess I do.”
Lydias stirred in Ferdinand’s arms. “No,” she said, forcing herself to meet their gazes. “I won’t allow it.”
“Unfortunately, Commandant,” Ilya said. “This time it’s not up to you.” He raised his remaining hand in a salute. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”
“Go on,” Flora growled. “We’ll make sure nobody pursues you.”
Ferdinand pursed his lips, but nodded tightly. Lydias fought in his grip. She hardly even felt the pain. “No!” she screamed, or tried to. It was hard to tell where her voice was. “Don’t! I forbid it! That’s an order!” He started running. She watched helplessly as the distance grew. “Stop! Go back, we have to help them! Stop!”
In the fading light, Ilya fell and was immediately consumed by a horde of Corrupted hands. His signal weakened then blinked out. A scream tore itself from her throat. She thrashed in Ferdinand’s grip and felt his hold on her loosen. White-hot pain shot through her body as she tumbled to the ground. Mad with grief, she crawled forward desperately, mind blank except for the desire to be with her Wolves.
Strong arms lifted her up. Ferdinand’s lively voice was dull. “Please don’t do this, Lydias.”
“Let go, Ferdie,” she said angrily. “We have to--” Flora’s signal flickered out. Lydias felt her spirit break. “No,” she cried. “Please, no.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Words abandoned her. The world seemed to shrink, compacting to a single thought: she had failed.
-----------
She woke to white light. Something beeped steadily beside her. Tubes ran from her body to several machines like the tentacles of some deep sea creature. Her entire body hurt. Immediately, she reached for the Black Wolves, but their signals were absent, leaving her mind uncomfortably empty. Panic settled like ice in her veins. It couldn’t be. It was impossible.
Surely, they had recalled their consciousnesses. Surely, she’d simply woken up early. And where was Ferdie? Gasping, Lydias stood, dragging her broken body to the wall of windows. She brought a fist to the cool glass. Nikola watched her from the other side. “Where are they,” she croaked. “What happened?”
He shook his head sympathetically. “They didn’t recall their consciousness. According to our records, Ilya and Flora died protecting you from pursuit. Ferdinand was infected.” His eyes were grave. “He guarded you until reinforcements arrived.”
She didn’t know if she could bear the answer, but she asked anyway. “And then?”
Nikola studied her for a long moment before giving in. “And then the Punishing Virus took over his M.I.N.D. He escaped because we prioritised your survival.” A desperate hope sparked to life within her. “So he’s still alive? Then there’s still a chance! Please, let me find him!”
“You know it doesn’t work like that.”
“Please,” she begged. “Please.”
He turned away from her. “The Purifying Force has already been sent after him. I’m sorry, Lydias.”
-----------
Three weeks later
“Are you sure?” Nikola asked, studying her with intensity. “Your chances of success are only 47%.”
Lydias stared at him blankly. “I’m sure.”
“I’m afraid I can’t allow it. Commandants are valuable to Babylonia. Perhaps even more than Constructs. Few possess the will and compatibility to stabilize M.I.N.Ds. Someone as experienced as you is not expendable.”
“Then I quit being a Commandant. I refuse to lead another squad.” She looked away. “I couldn’t protect any of them. Not a single one.” Her voice broke. “I’m not… I don’t think I can--I just can’t.”
Nikola considered her with some pity. “What do you want then, Lydias?”
“You know what I want. I’m not afraid of dying.”
“I know you’re not afraid, but it seems to me like you seek it.”
She said nothing. Nikola sighed. “I’d rather not lose you completely. You have experience and ability. The Black Wolves were specifically chosen for that mission for your competence. Aife will increase our combat power significantly against the Corrupted.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s unfortunate, but these things happen at war.”
“Say whatever you want,” Lydias said stubbornly. “But this is my final decision.”
“Fine,” Nikola said. “Your attempt at redemption is admirable. I’ll grant your request, but if you survive, you’ll work directly under me. Is that acceptable?”
“Perfectly.”
INTERLUDE HIDDEN CHAPTER
F A D I N G L I G H T
Flora: Fairfrost - Voice Log
*sounds of fighting* I hope this reaches you, Commandant. I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer and… *grunting* I just wanna say goodbye. The old man’s already gone. I felt his signal die out a while ago. He went down taking a blade for me, can you believe it? Even though I’m the Attacker Construct. *panting* You know what his last words to me were? “It hurts.” As if our pain receptors weren’t turned off. I know what he means though. *blades clashing* After all, we all wanna go back home with you. But life’s a bit unfair, eh? For once, I don’t mind. Protecting your back… it almost makes me feel like a hero. That ain’t something you experience every day, y’know? *metal tearing* I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. For being someone worthy of love. *crash, wet coughing* It’s been my honour and privilege to have been one of your Wolves, Commandant. You’ll remember me, won’t you?
-----------
Ferdinand: Aegis - Voice Log
Lydias… This will probably be my last communication with you. I never would have thought this would be how it ends, but… Well, I’m just glad that I get to spend my final moments with you. I can feel my M.I.N.D. slipping, but Babylonia will be here any second now. They’ll take care of you, the way I wish I could. *sigh* Ah, there are so many things I want to say. I have nothing to lose anymore, so I hope you’re ready to listen. *deep breath* I love you. The way you laugh at my jokes and tease me. The way you can talk about anything. Your smile, your lips. I love the way you kiss me. And of course, I love our late night activities… Such as you trying to teach me to dance. *short laughter* Were you expecting me to say something else, Commandant? You--*grunt, glitching* Looks like my time is running out. I should go, but promise me one thing, Lydias. Promise me you’ll keep your heart open, so that someone else can love you as you deserve. I--You--*glitches*
DATA CORRUPTED.
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Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 47
Title: Truth
Warnings: profanity, slight angst, mentions of suicide attempt, depression, mental health issues
Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip
“Esme told me. About your so-called girls trip. That it was nothing but bullshit.”
Sighing heavily, Riley leans back against one of the panes of glass; legs stretched out in front of her, arms folded across her chest. She’d only arrived an hour ago, and the initial joy and excitement of being rushed by a horde of children had been quickly replaced by frazzled nerves and nibbles of anxiety. The moment he’d approached when she’d been alone in the kitchen, she’d known it wasn’t with good intentions; the deep rumble of his voice, the tense shoulders and jaw, the increasing darkness taking over his eyes. And she’d barely gotten words of acknowledgment and acceptance out of her mouth when his fingers had curled around her upper arm and she found herself being manipulated her towards the sunroom. The door closing behind them and her brother in planting his large, strong frame directly in front of it.
She’s been witness to his ire; possessing a hair-trigger temper that’s been unleashed many times in her presence. Unsuspecting motorists in town that have come too close to his kids while in the crosswalk; profanities hurled in their direction, objects thrown at the car, a foot put through a headlight or front grill more than once. Overzealous parents at the soccer park or lacrosse field that believe their eight year old is the next athletic superstar; pacing the sidelines while screaming insults at teenaged referees and freaking out over poor play of their own kid or others on the field. Only to have a tattooed, six foot three, ‘built like a brick shit house’ coach storm across the grass to confront them on their bullshit; quietly yet intently calling them out and often physically escorting them away from the game. Or men that have the audacity to not just check his wife out, but make lewd remarks about her to their buddies or even attempt to follow her while making suggestive and highly sexualized comments. Never imagining that her husband is either just feet in front or behind her, or even across the street waiting to meet up with her.
They always regret their decision when they see him happen upon the scene; casually and calmly greeting her with a warm -albeit brief- embrace and a chaste kiss to the lips before turning his attention to the culprits. While some will put up a good fight and try to defend their egos and their masculinity by arguing with him, most attempt to apologize their way out of the mess they created. Stammering and stumbling over their words; frazzled and intimidated and even visibly shaking from the fear of getting their asses handed to them.
She’s even unintentionally wandered into the house while Tyler and Esme have been engrossed in a blow out themselves. Shortly after his release from the hospital; the horrific and constant pain and the frustration of slower than expected healing getting the better of him and causing to snap. Nothing too serious; raised voices and cupboards being slammed and plates and utensils being angrily tossed into the sink. By BOTH parties.
While seeing the actual explosion of his temper is bad enough, it’s the lead up that tends to be the scarier. The darkening of the eyes and the cold, fixed glare. The way his shoulders tense and his jaw clenches. The visible throbbing of the vein his neck; surgically repaired twelve and a half years after a teenager’s bullet that sliced through it and nearly taken his life. And while his height and his powerful build and the myriad of tattoos and scars are intimidating to most that come in contact with him, Tyler is not a threatening person. At least not intentionally. He’s normally quiet and reserved; taking the time to sit back and watch and listen to the people and the activity around him. Thoroughly analyzing and calculating every move they make and the words that come out of their mouths; assessing whether they both pose a threat and if they can be trusted and allowed into his extremely small, tight circle. Once you get to know him, you realize that while he’s a big man, he has an even bigger heart; compassionate and patient and possessing so much love and adoration for his wife and his children. Enormously protective; wanting nothing more for them to be happy and safe. And willing to do anything and everything to keep them that way.
She has never been on THIS side of the fence; the one being targeted by that intense and unwavering gaze. Not once getting on her brother in law’s bad side; enjoying the teasing and light hearted bickering and the backhanded compliments that their relationship has been built upon. Knowing what subjects to never broach and what lines to never -under any circumstances- cross; acknowledging and respecting his triggers and always doing her best to steer clear from them. A mutual respect exists between them; Tyler grateful for the never ending support that Riley provides her sister with, and Riley ever thankful for the world that he’s created for her sister. A man that loves her so profoundly and unconditionally; making her the centre of his universe and putting everything he has and everything he is into giving her a good life. Making her a mother; something she’d wanted for years and had given up hope on when things between her and Mark had gone so wrong. A hands-on father and a partner in every possible way; devoting every spare minute he has to her and his kids and doing whatever he can to make amazing memories for all of them to carry into adulthood. She’s never seen Esme THAT happy; peaceful and content despite all of the issues that have plagued them and the rocky terrain they’ve covered together and the scarier than hell situations they’ve gone through. Somehow making her even stronger than before; resilient and phenomenally patient, yet ferociously protective when need be.
“I told her she needed to tell you,” Riley says, and nervously drums the fingernails on her right hand against the wine glass clutched tightly in her right. “That it had gone on long enough; her keeping that a secret. That you had the right to know and…”
“I had a right to know WHEN it happened,” Tyler interjects. “What I can’t figure out is why no one realized that then. Why you didn’t tell me. Why you kept it a secret.”
“She asked me not to. Said that it was better if you didn’t know. She was worried what it would do to you; putting that kind of extra worry and stress on you when you were already going through your own shit.”
“And you agreed with her?”
“No. I didn’t. I argued against it, actually. Right away I told her that it was a bad idea; keeping that kind of thing from you.”
“But....”
“But when Esme gets something into her head, it’s hard to sway her from it. You know that better than anyone. You don’t easily change her mind when it’s dead set on something. She was convinced it would be bad for you. That hearing something like that could trigger you and bring on an episode and…”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
“She was worried, Tyler. About the issues it might cause. And I told her that you were a lot stronger than she was giving you credit for; you were more than capable of taking care of your shit AND hers. But she was adamant to do things her way and I didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was. I didn’t want to make her worse.”
“You should have called me. Right after you got off the phone with her. As soon as she told you how she was feeling, you should have hung and got a hold of me and told me what was going on.”
“It wasn’t my place to tell you. She asked me to help her, and I did. I went over to the house and I stayed with her and the kids. I did everything I could to calm her down and talk her off the edge…”
“That should have been MY job. I should have been the one to do all of that.”
“Well you weren’t exactly around, were you. You were thousands of miles away. On a job. A lot of good you could have done being all the way in Brazil. Instead of home with your family.”
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t do that. Don’t turn this around on me. What I do for a living and how I provide for my family is none of your business. I’m not the same guy I was when I met your sister. I’m not that deep in it anymore.”
“You run a mercenary business. You may not be the one going out there and putting your ass on the line and killing people, but you’re still sending other guys to do it. Your hands aren’t clean, Tyler. Don’t pretend they are. I don’t care what you do or what you used to do. I don’t care how many lives you’ve taken or HOW you took them. But don’t act like you’re innocent. Not with your track record.”
“This isn’t about me or what I do for a living or what I send other people to do. None of that matters. That’s business. It has no bearing on my personal life. I’m not the same guy when I’m working as I am when I’m at home. When I’m a husband and a father. That’s the only thing you should give a shit about. How I treat your sister. And I love her and I will do anything to protect her.”
“You wouldn’t have to do that if you didn’t do what you do,” Riley counters. “ Do you ever stop and think about that? How you wouldn’t have this fear of something happening to her or someone hurting her if you weren’t who you are?”
“I wouldn’t have met Esme if I wasn’t who I am. You seem to forget that part. That she was in it just as much as I was. That she was working WITH me. She’d been in the game for a while; before she ever met me. So she’s not entirely innocent herself, is she. If she had been, she never would have shown up on my doorstep that day. I never would have laid eyes on her. There’d be no us and there’d be no kids. And your sister and those kids? Best damn things that ever happened to me.”
“I don’t deny that. Same way I don’t deny how much you love her. Or that you’d do anything for her. But she asked me to keep it a secret. She wanted to protect you.”
“And you just went along with it.”
“Against my better judgement, yeah, I did. I didn’t call you because I didn’t need your help. I had it under control. I got her calm and off the ledge and…”
“I should have been the one doing all of that. And if you’d just called me…”
“And what? What would you have done? What could you have possibly said that would have been any better than what came out of my mouth? Look, I understand; I get why you’re pissed. She shouldn’t have lied to you. And I told her that.”
“ You should have never kept that from me. You should have told me what happened. The things that she said. That she was that bad off. That she was going to hurt herself.”
“I don’t think she was going to do it. I think she was anxious and panicking and scared and,...”
“It doesn’t matter if she was going to do it or not!” he argues. “The fact she even said it is bad enough. And you should have told her you weren’t going to lie for her. You should have told her to fuck off when she even brought up this bullshit of wanting to protect me. And you should have called me and told me and I would have come home. Right away.”
“It wasn’t my place to tell you. She asked me to help her and keep it a secret and I did. Because she’s my sister.”
“She’s my wife!” he snarls. “The mother of my children. And I’m sorry if it pisses you off that both those things trump her being your sister. Don’t even compare the two. I’m her husband. I had every goddamn right to know what happened!”
“You did,” Riley admits. “But I’ll hold firm that it wasn’t my place to tell you.”
“My wife tells you that she wants to kill herself and you don’t think it’s your place to tell me that? What if you weren’t around, Riley? What if you didn’t live right next door? Or even in Australia.? What if she hadn’t been able to call you for help?”
“It doesn’t matter. Because I DO live there.”
“It fucking matters to me. What if she’d tried to call you and couldn’t get a hold of you? What then? What if she had decided to go through with it? You know what have happened? One of my kids would have found her. They would have wondered why mummy wasn’t up in the morning to make them breakfast and get them off to school. And they would have gone in there and found her. Dead. Kids, Riley. MY kids.”
“I never thought of that. I never…”
“Do you know what that would have done to them? Finding their mother like that? Do you know how bad that would have fucked them up for the rest of their life? If they’d seen that?”
Struggling to hold back a flood of tears, she takes a swallow of wine in an attempt to wash away the lump of emotion threatening to choke her. “I just never considered all of that.”
“I know what it’s like to lose your mother. At a really young age. It screwed me up. And it continues to screw me up; everything that came after it and all the bullshit I went through because of my father. And the way I lost her? That was bad enough. But it would have been nowhere like how my kids would have lost their mother.”
“I’m sorry, Tyler. I never…”
“I had a right to know. As soon as she told you how she felt and what was going through her head? You should have called me. I would have been on the next plane home. There is nothing in this world that is more important than her. Nothing.”
“I know that. I know how you feel about her. I see it every time you look at her. The way you smile at her and always find little ways to touch her. The way you watch her when she talks. I’ve always seen that. And you’re right; I should have called you. But my main concern was taking care of her. Making sure SHE was okay. I did what she asked.”
“What stopped you from telling me after you got her settled? Once you realized she was going to be okay. What stopped you from calling me? Some stupid fucking promise you made to her?”
“It wasn’t a stupid fucking promise. She was trying to protect you. She didn’t want to put it on you. Didn’t want to take the risk of it causing you issues. And I have to say, I agreed with her. To an extent.”
“I’m not some fragile fucking piece of china you have to coddle and keep away from everyone. I’m a grown ass man. And I may be messed up and have mountains of shit I deal with every day, but I am more than capable of taking care of your sister. Of my wife.”
“I know. I know you are. And I’m sorry that it came out this way. That she waited this long to tell you. I’m sorry that…”
“Don’t.” Tyler holds up a hand to silence her.. “Don’t do that. Don’t put all the blame on her. I get where she’s coming from; she’s neurotic and she worries about me and she’s got it in her head that she needs to protect me the same way I do her. Doesn’t matter how many times I tell her I don’t need it or that I don’t want her doing it; she’s going to go ahead with it anyway. But you? Going along with that? When you know what she means to me? How can you stand here and defend this? Act like it’s no big deal that you kept this from me? What the fuck, Riley?”
“I said I was sorry. That you had to find out this way. That it took this long. What more do you want from me?”
“How about admitting you fucked up? That you never should have gone along with it. That you should have called me. How about admitting all THAT?”
“Let’s get something straight, Tyler. You’re not my boss. I’m not one of your ‘guys’. You don’t dictate how I do things. You don’t question my decisions. You don’t chastise me for ‘bad behaviour’. I love you. I think you’re a great guy. In the same way I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Me-Me. I think you’re an amazing husband and an even better father. But you’re my brother in law. That’s it. I have no ties to you other than through my sister and my nieces and nephews. My loyalty lies with Esme. First and foremost. And I’m sorry that you think this is some horrible betrayal. I did what my sister asked. That’s it.”
“What you did was wrong. And you fucking know it. We aren’t just talking about some girl, Riley. We’re talking about my wife. The mother of my children. My SEVEN children. The woman that I love more than anything in this world. Who I love more than I ever thought I could love another human being. Who saved my life. And if you can’t understand why you should have told me…”
A knock comes to the door, followed by the rattling of the handle .“Dad?” TJ’s voice from the other side. “Can I come in?”
“Not right now, mate. Auntie Riley and I are talking about some stuff. That little ears don’t need to hear.”
“Mum wanted me to check on you. To make sure you were alright. You’ve been a little...off...for a few days.”
“Tell your mum I’m okay. That there’s nothing for her to worry about.”
“Yeah...right…” TJ scoffs. “This is mum we’re talking about. She worries no matter what. You think you’d be used to it by now. You’ve only been married to her for like a hundred years.”
“Twelve,” he informs his son. “In October. Feels like it’s been a hundred years some days.”
“I won’t tell her you said that. I know how much you hate sleeping on the couch. Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“Everything’s fine, Teej. I’ll be out in a few minutes. Go and get washed up for dinner, okay? Make sure your brothers and sisters do too. Food will be here soon.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“You’re gettin’ as bad as your mum. I’m fine. Everything’s good. Go and do as I said. Tell mum I won’t be much longer.”
“Alright,” TJ reluctantly agrees, and Tyler waits until he hears him walk away; heavy, stomping footsteps across the kitchen floor as he shouts the information from one end of the house to the other.
“We’re going to have to agree to disagree when it comes to this,” Riley says, and downs the remains of her wine. “I’m sorry that I didn’t call you. That my main priority was my sister and not calling you.”
“For the last time, your sister is my wife. And my main priority is her. Twelve and half years. That’s how long I’ve been with her. That’s how long I’ve been going through hell and back with her. FOR her. You don’t even know the half of what we’ve been through together. The crap that we’ve dealt with. I’m the one that’s been there; by her side through every fucking shitty thing that’s been thrown us. I’m the one that’s gotten her through a lot of hard times. The one that’s talked her down and kept her calm. Who’s been stepping up and being there for her no matter what I’m going through. So don’t you stand here and tell me that I couldn’t have done a better job than you when it comes to taking care of MY wife .”
“I could have been there for her too, you know. And I would have been had you NOT moved her all the way to the other side of the goddamn world.”
“You know who you sound like right now? When you say that? I’ll give you three guesses but you’re only going to need one.”
Riley scowls. “Don’t you even go there. I am nothing like her. I’m the one that accepted you into the family. I’m the one that saw how good you were with her. FOR her. I’ve always been on your side, Tyler. Even when everyone else was against you and I ended up getting alienated for it. Kicked out of my own family because I always defended you. Because Esme was happy and in love with you and I could tell you felt the same way about her.”
“So you were on my side. So what? You want some kind of award for it? A fucking cookie? You were a kid, Riley. You weren’t even a senior in high school when we moved to Colorado. You had no clue what happened. Why we had to leave Australia, how we were broke as fuck and ended up living in your folks’ basement. It broke your sister’s heart to leave. We didn’t have much, but we were happy there. Happier than either of us had been in a long time. She had someone that loved her and a beautiful baby girl and she didn’t want much more than that.”
“You’re right. I don’t know the details. I don’t know the reason you guys came back. I WAS a kid. And totally absorbed in my own world. But it didn’t mean that I didn’t care about my sister. Or miss her. That I wasn’t glad she was back.”
“She never wanted to go back to Colorado. That was all me. All my idea. And she went along with it and she tried to make the best of it and it nearly fucking destroyed us. You have no clue how bad things got. The issues that being there caused. How close we came to ending everything. All she ever wanted was to be back in Australia. She would cry about it at night; tell me that she wasn’t happy and that she was worried being back in the States was going to destroy us. And it came close. So fucking close.”
“I didn’t know that. I know that you had some problems. That you started drinking again and got back into the job and the pills and…”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know. That we’ve kept back. From everyone connected to her family. I didn’t just move your sister to the other side of the world. I gave her what she wanted. I busted my ass to make it happen; to get her back there. To get her home. Because that’s where she wanted to be. So don’t fucking pretend you know what we went through and don’t ever accuse me of taking her away from you. Because that’s not what happened. That’s just what you’ve been told.”
“It is,” she admits. “That’s exactly what I was told. I mean, I knew most of it wasn’t true. I knew you weren’t controlling or abusive and that you didn’t force her to go back. I knew you weren’t that kind of guy. But I WAS a kid. And still stupid enough to believe most of the bullshit that was being fed to me.”
“When I say there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for your sister, I mean it. They aren’t just empty words. I’m not just saying it to hear myself talk or to make her feel better. I say it because it’s one hundred percent true. And had you called me, I would have been on the first flight home. I would have said ‘fuck the job’ and got on the next plane out of there. So I could help my wife.”
“I’m sorry, Tyler. I SHOULD have called you. But I was so worried about her and I thought what I was doing was right for her.”
“You played a really dangerous game with my wife’s life. Do you realize that? How badly it all could have backfired on you? How one little thing could have set her off? If you’d just called me, I could have talked her down. I could have gotten her off that ledge. A lot easier and a lot quicker than you did.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t…”
“I DO know that. Because I’m the one that she needed. I’ve always been the one she’s needed. And that’s not just going to stop. Not until I’m dead and buried and I can’t do it anymore. What she wanted at that time and what was best for her, were two totally different things. And the fact you didn’t realize that? That you played this fucking game with her life?”
“That’s not what I was trying to do. At all. I thought I was doing what was best for Esme. That’s what we both want, right? To do what’s best for her?”
“That wasn’t what was best for her. That was possibly the WORST thing for her. I know she’s your sister, but I’ve shared a life with her for more than a decade now. I think I know her a hell of a lot better than you do.”
“Of course you do. What the two of you have? That love? That bond? That’s way more than she’s ever had before. With anyone.”
“Don’t ever play a game like that again, Not when it comes to Esme. You have no idea what it would do to me to lose her. What it would do to my kids. HER kids. So don’t you ever again underestimate my ability to take care of my wife. Don’t you EVER get in between me and her again.”
Riley approaches him; slowly and cautiously, palms raised in both surrender and a plea for calm. “That is NOT what I meant to do. I would NEVER do that. I wasn’t trying to cause issues between the two of you. I was trying to help her. That’s it.”
“Well you almost made an even bigger mess, so…” his words trails off and he takes a step back when she attempts to embrace him. “...don’t do that. Don’t touch me. We’re not back at that point. We won’t be for a while. I’m not the kind of guy that just hugs it out, you know?”
“I’m trying here, Tyler. I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. For the lie to get as far as it did. I told her to tell you. I told her…”
“Oh my god…” he chuckles and shakes his head incredulously. “...you just don’t get it. You either didn’t listen to a goddamn word I said or you don’t give a fuck. You never should have went along with it. It’s as simple as that. You should have called me. So I could take care of my wife. But you didn’t. You fucked up. You caused all of this. Don’t put all the blame on her. I won’t let you do that.”
“Can we at least agree that we both want what’s best for her? That even if we DO make mistakes, all that we really want is what’s best for Esme?”
“I think that’s one thing we CAN agree on.”
“And can we go out there and at least pretend to be friends? I don’t want to make things worse on her. You know she’s struggling. That she’s having a really hard time right now. Can we at least do our best to not make things harder for her?”
“Yeah…” he nods. “...I can do that.”
“I really am sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t think things through better. But I really did think I was handling it fine. That I was doing what was best for her. For my sister.”
“I know what’s best for her. For my wife. Even more than she does. So I appreciate your help, but I think you need to step back and realize that you don’t know shit. Not when it comes to this kind of thing. Next time...and I hope to hell there isn’t a next time...you call me. Regardless of what she says.”
“I will,” she promises. “I definitely will.”
“This ends here. What we talked about, the things that were said. She doesn’t need to know. It’s better if she doesn’t. If she asks, we had a heated discussion and disagreed on a lot but we got through it. What really happened doesn’t go further from this room. Understand me?”
Riley nods.
“Don’t you ever question my loyalty or my ability to take care of my wife,” he warns, then turns on his heel and heads for the door.
*****
It’s shortly after midnight when she hears his footfalls on the stairs. The sound familiar and comforting; the slight drag of the right leg, the soft creaks as wood shifts and flexes under his weight. Three hours ago he’d gone upstairs to tend to the kids’ bedtime routines; keeping the older yet easily distracted ones on track, giving the littlest their baths and combing out the girls’ hair and helping them into their pyjamas. Since her confession earlier in the day, he’s been even more hands on and attentive than usual. Practically glued to her side and quick with the affection; spontaneous hugs or arms wrapped tightly around her from behind, gentle fingers combing through her hair and tucking it behind her ears, kisses pressed to her forehead or temple or corners of her mouth. Insisting on either helping her with things around the house or refusing to do anything at all; ordering to sit back and relax and let him and the kids take care of her for a change.
While it had been both welcome and appreciated, she’d also been well aware that he’d been overcompensating. Her admittance to thoughts of self harm and suicide not doubt a kick to the gut; opening his eyes to just to the depths and the extent of her own issues, and feeding into his number one fears. It’s always been his worst nightmare; losing her unexpectedly and to something he could have controlled, or at least prevented. Illness and an accident on the road are horrific in their own way; a disease that eats away at her and eventually kills her, or something that suddenly and unexpectedly occurs and snatches her out of his life. But to lose her to something he could have stepped in and stopped is completely unacceptable in his eyes. An assailant he could have fought off or at least prevented from getting closer to her. An action by her own hand would be something he’d never considered. In twelve and a half years she’s never spoken of harming herself; the one who’d had to stop him from taking his own life.
It had definitely blindsided him; how close he’d come to losing her and never even realizing there’d ever been the potential of it. And not being told sooner had devastated him. She’d seen the pain in his eyes; the hurt and the anger and the feeling of betrayal. He’s always stepped up and taken care of her regardless of his own issues and suffering; pushing everything aside to focus solely on her and what she needs.
Her not relying on him in the moment had done more damage than actually carrying on the lie. HE should have been the one she called. Confident he would have been able to calm her down and talk her off the ledge; giving him the time to get home and concentrate on her problems and her needs. And he would have done it; abandoned the job in favour of returning to Australia and focusing solely on her. But she hadn’t been in her right frame of mind; immediately believed that she had to protect HIM.
She definitely regrets THAT decision. And for keeping it a secret as long as she did.
“Hey,” she greets, looking up from the tablet resting on her thighs as he reaches the bottom landing. Clad in a pair of shorts made from cut up sweats and an old and tattered muscle shirt; the fabric littered with messes composed of dried paint, tiny hand prints infused with glitter, and stains made by various baby ‘accidents’ over the years. Hair messy and sticking up in several different directions; a pout curving his lips and the heels of his palms pressing into his weary eyes.
Twelve and half years later and he still brings about so many emotions and reactions. From lust to adoration to love and even melting because of moments of sheer adorableness; this big -and often intimidating- heavily tattooed man that possesses the strength and know how to kill with his bare hands often so cute and pure that her heart -and her hormones- can barely handle it.
“Hey,” Tyler says in return, pausing to lock the front door and set the alarm before switching off the foyer light and padding into the living room. “You’re awake.”
“I was going to say the same thing to you. You’ve been up there for a hell of a long time. I wasn’t sure if you’d crashed hard or been abducted by aliens. Or if you were just avoiding me. Like the plague.”
“Well I’m happy to report that no aliens showed up and anally probed me.”
“Your worst nightmare,” she grins. “Anyone getting anywhere near your ass.”
“I let you near my ass.”
“Let me rephrase it. Anyone exploring your ass with more than a finger.”
“First off, you’re disturbing. Second, I had three little ones fall asleep on me. Before that, one story turned into two, two turned into three, three turned into a dozen. Can you maybe burn all the copies of Goodnight Moon? Can they mysteriously disappear? Because I have been reading that damn thing almost every night for almost twelve years. What’s left of my sanity can’t take it anymore.”
“You know, instead of resorting to burning books, you could always say no to your children.”
"Yeah, not gonna happen.” He drops down heavily beside her. “I did crash, by the way. In Addie’s bed. I just woke up about ten minutes ago. She kicked me right in the nuts. Good thing you don’t want anymore kids.”
“There’s something so cute about that.”
He frowns. “About her kicking me in the balls?”
“No. About you falling asleep there. This big, burly guy with all his tattoos and scars totally crashed in a frilly canopy bed fit for a princess. I would have LOVED a picture of that.”
“Sorry to disappoint. None exist. You don’t get a chance to publicly humiliate me on social media. Not on this night, anyway.” Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, then stretches out his legs and places his bare feet on the coffee table. “And why would I have been avoiding you? What would be the reason for that?”
“Well I did fuck up. HUGE. And I did hurt your feelings. And offend you. All at once.”
“We talked about it. We said shit we needed to say. It’s done. Over with. Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she agrees, and slides closer to him on the couch; tucking her feet under her body as she snuggles into his side. “Let’s.”
Wrapping an arm around her petite frame, he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “What are you doing?”
“Looking up ideas for the backyard.” She holds the tablet up for him to see; an image of a tiny cottage made of distressed white wood and boasting a shingled roof and a sunlight and pink shutters on the windows. “We finally have the opportunity to totally concentrate on it. All the renos out of the way, all the garages and the granny flat are built, the pool house has been redone. Now we can work on other things. What do you think? It’s a she shed. I would LOVE a she shed.”
“That’s what they’re actually called? I’ve been calling them bitch barns.”
“You would,” she frowns, and he chuckles when she digs an elbow into his ribs. “Think you could build it?”
“Shouldn’t be hard. I’ve built a lot more complicated. And if you really DO want one, I’ll get on it. Soon as we get home.”
“I really do. Want one.”
“Then a bitch barn you shall have.”
She scowls.
“She shed,” he quickly corrects. “A SHE SHED you shall have.”
“And I was thinking a fire bowl. For the corner of the first floor deck. Closest to the pool. One of those propane ones. With the coloured glass stones. We could build a seating area around it, maybe get another swing to hang near it.”
“Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it. Just buy what you need or give me a list and I’ll take care of it. You know I really don’t care about this kind of stuff. I mean, it’s not that I don’t. It’s just that I trust you and you always pick out nice shit and it always looks great when it’s done.”
“You really ARE the best husband on earth,” Esme declares, and presses a kiss to the side of his neck; lips covering the scar long ago left behind by Farhad’s bullet and the surgery to repair the vein.
Smiling, he gives her hip a gentle squeeze and then runs her palm over her ribs and up onto her arm. Tightly clasping her shoulder as he presses a kiss to her forehead. “I try. All I wanna do is make my girl happy. And if what makes her happy is making the house look nice and wanting it to be beautiful and comfortable for all of us, then I’ll do whatever she needs me to do to make that all happen.”
“You DO trust me,” she chides, and leans forward to set the tablet on the coffee table before once more snuggling into him; arms circling his waist and her head resting on his chest. “How do you know I’m not going to buy stuff you’ll hate? That I’m not going to go crazy with the pastels? Or pink? Addie would LOVE that. We do share a favourite color, after all.”
“First of all, I know how much you love colour. The brighter the better. Second, you’d never do that; just buy stuff that you’ll like. You’ve NEVER done it. Not once in the past twelve and a half years. If you know I’ll hate, you won’t do it. That’s just not how you work.”
“Damn it,” she grumbles, and playfully pinches the sensitive area below his right ribcage. “That’s what I get for being so predictable.”
“It’s not that you’re predictable. It’s just that I know you. Very well. Better than you know yourself sometimes. Isn’t that kind of our ‘thing?’. Knowing one another better than we know ourselves?”
“Been our thing since almost day one. It’s kind of weird, don’t you think? As screwed up and as damaged as we were, we just...I don’t know...took to each other.”
“Is that before or after I tried to choke you out?” he chides.
“It was almost like we’d known each other for years. We knew what the other was thinking, we could express things to one another without even using words. We trusted each other. And it’s not like trust came easily to either of us. But for some reason, we knew we could. We had faith in one another.”
“My instincts told me you were good people. That I COULD trust you. And what do you always say? About how good my instincts are?”
“You have incredible instincts. They’ve never lied to you. At least not as long as I’ve known you. I have to say…” she grins up at him “...I’m quite happy that they thought I was good people.”
“It’s pretty safe to say I’m happy about that too.” Giving her shoulder another squeeze, Tyler slides his arm further up and wraps it around her neck, pulling her flush against him as he kisses her. Nothing urgent nor intense; fingertips and the pad of his thumb repeatedly grazing along her jaw as his lips move slowly and sinuously against hers. Her eyes still closed when he pulls away; the bridge of her nose wrinkling when he presses a kiss to the tip of it. “I feel like ice cream,” he announces. “Want some ice cream?”
“Hmmm…” She tilts her head to the side, crinkles on the bridge of nose deepening as she considers it. “...cheese toast.”
“And ice cream?”
“Why not? You only live once. Do you think we could have sex afterwards? My cramps went away and my period isn’t due for two weeks, so…”
“We can have sex first and then cheese toast and ice cream?”
She frowns. “Naww. Cheese toast first.”
“Are you telling me you’re picking cheese toast over having sex with your husband? Do you realize how hurtful that is? How offended I am?”
“I’m sorry! You know there’s anything in this world that’s better than sex with you. Nothing. But I’m hungry. And...well...this is cheese toast we’re talking about. You know how much I love cheese toast.”
“You claim to love ME, but I dunno…”
Her fingers fidget with loose strands of thread on the neckline of his tank. “Don’t be like that. You damn well know that I love you. Don’t want me at full strength? You don’t want me running on an empty tank do you? Because then I’ll get tired easily and I won’t be at my best and…”
“Won’t bother me. Your best is only at a B plus.”
“B plus! You asshole!” She aggressively ruffles his hair, then laughs when he curls an arm around her waist and dumps her onto her back. “You’re mean,” she dramatically pouts, as he places a foot on the floor and a knee on the couch beside her; palms above her head and pressed flat against the cushion as he looms over her.
“The meanest. But you know what?” He places a small peck on each corner of her mouth, then her lips. “I will still make you your goddamn cheese toast.”
“I knew you loved me,” she says, and then curls two fingers around the chain that dangles around his neck and pulls him into a kiss. Long and deep and intense; legs wrapping around his waist and her ankles locking together at the small of his back.
He grins down at her. “So is this a yes to having sex BEFORE cheese toast and ice cream?”
“It’s a promise to have sex with you AFTER cheese toast and ice cream.”
“Don't do me any favours,” he grumbles playfully, kissing her a final time before reaching around to pry her ankles apart. “You know….” he grimaces at the stiffness in the small of his back as he stands. “...you’re damn lucky you’re so cute. That I love you as much as I do.”
“Yes. Yes I am,” she agrees, and slides off the couch and follows him through the living and dining rooms and into the kitchen. Lending a hand by gathering bowls and spoons from the drainboard next to the sink; carrying them to the island and then perching on the edge of one of the barstools. “They’re all asleep? All the beasts?”
“Every last one. Even Millie and Alannah crashed earlier than usual. That’s a nice change; none of their bloody laughing and raiding the fridge and waking me up at three am.”
“We’re going to have to think about where she is going to go when we get back home. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to keep those two in the same room. I would like to have some semblance of sleep. All the square footage we added and all the rooms we made, and suddenly there is no room at the inn.”
“Could always clean out the garage and make another bedroom in there. It’s only going to be temporary, yeah? She’s not staying with us forever. I hope. I love the kid, but…”
“What about the granny flat? We added one above the new gym but it hasn’t been used yet. Could put her in there.”
“She’s eleven. We are NOT giving an eleven year old her own apartment.”
“What about the den? Downstairs. It WAS a guest room at one point in time. That’s where you stayed. After Dhaka Part Two.”
“I kind of already told Tanner he could use that for his science experiments.” He gives her a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
“We could always put Brookie in with Addie. I’d say the other way around, but Addie will not give up her princess room. For ANYONE. I don’t even want to attempt trying to convince her to. Brookie won’t give a shit. She’s not attached to things like Addie is. She’d sleep out on the hammock every night if we let her.”
“She’d also do anything for Addie. She told me that Peanut’s her best friend. That that’s why she even agreed to tag along to the American Girl thing. Because Addie is her bestie and she asked Brookie to go with her.”
“One upside to having them close together. Friends for life. Unless one of them turns into a total dick head and completely ruins things.”
“I highly doubt either of our girls are going to turn into ‘he who shall not be named’. Things were always toxic when you were growing up. Our kids aren’t in that same kind of environment. We’re making damn sure of it. We aren’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but…”
“But we aren’t totally fucking up our children. We’re actually giving them a good home. A healthy one. Which is kind of surprising considering most behaviour is learned and neither of us grew up with the healthiest of parent child relationships.”
“We just went the opposite way. Instead of turning out like what we knew, we made sure we didn’t.”
“A lot of people aren’t that lucky, you know. A lot fall into the same patterns. Repeat the same mistakes.”
“Well we aren’t a lot of people, are we. I think we’ve shown that a time or two.”
“Do you remember what Gaspar said? About how two broken people can’t come together and make a whole?”
Tyler frowns. “I try NOT to remember anything he said.”
“He said that they’d only make things worse. Make EACH OTHER worse. I like to think he was wrong.”
“He was wrong about a lot of things. Not just that. Take it from the source, babe. Don’t take anything he said to heart.”
“He seemed a little too invested in what was going on between us. What was it to him? What did it matter whether we were hooking up or not?”
“He was just worried I’d get distracted. That I’d let my feelings take over and forget everything else.”
“More like he was worried your dick would run the show. Not your head. And that would be dangerous.”
“Something like that.”
Popping two pieces of bread into the toaster, he pushes down the level and then turns his back towards it; facing his wife as he leans back against the counter. He’ll never tell her the whole truth; Gaspar attempting to convince him that she was simply using him as a way out of Dhaka. That ‘putting out’, showering a profoundly damaged and lonely man with affection and want, and promising an attempt at a future would guarantee her his full attention ; that he’d stop at nothing to make sure she survived the ordeal. Even before Gaspar had shown all his cards and brought up the ten million dollar deal, Tyler hadn’t believed a word of what he was saying. He hadn’t been in that cramped and squalid hotel room. He didn’t hear the deep and intense conversations that lasted well into the wee hours of the morning; the confessions made and the fears talked about and the tears shed. It hadn’t been just sex. A connection had been made and a foundation laid down. Wrong place, wrong time. Perhaps a little too quick by society’s standards. But it had been nothing like Tyler had ever experienced. And he’d felt no need to either explain that to Gaspar, or defend it.
“Did he say anything to you? About me?”
“Other than he thought I was thinking with the wrong head? No. Not a damn thing.”
“Just the offer.”
Tyler nods.
“He didn’t say anything about me? Even leading up to that? Seems weird. That he’d just bring the offer up out of nowhere.”
“What does it matter? It’s almost thirteen years ago. Why are we even talking about it? About HIM? None of that should matter anymore.
“Just some things made me think about it. Shit that he said to me. When he cornered me in the upstairs. I don’t know what brought it up. Sometimes it happens; it hits me out of nowhere. But you’re right…” She sighs heavily and manages a smile. “...it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know it makes you a little testy. Even now. What he did.”
“He’s dead. That’s what he deserved. Makes no sense to go back and dig him up.”
“It doesn’t,” she agrees, and then thankfully changes the subject. “You know, I really need to get my shit together. We go back home in five days and I have done nothing to prepare for it. I’m usually so far ahead of the game by now. Do you realize how much has to be packed away? Things I need to box up and have shipped because we won’t be able to take everything on the plane?”
“Do you realize you’re not the only adult in the house and there’s someone fully prepared to help out? WE have a lot to do. Not just you. We’ll start today.”
“You have your little shopping trip with Desi today,” she reminds him. “No way are you skipping out on that. He’s been going on and on about it for DAYS. He will legit ugly cry if you bail on him.”
“Then we start when I get back. Doubt I’ll be gone that long. You’ve gone shopping with me. In and out in half an hour.”
“You are in for a rude awakening. Going shopping with Desi is a whole other experience in itself. That man LOVES his fashion and his bling and he doesn’t go home until he’s exhausted every square inch of his favourite stores. Takes him half an hour just to decide what side of the store to start on first.”
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
“He wants to play dress up with you. Use you as his little doll. He sees the potential. He’s going to get you into some three thousand dollar suits and some skinny jeans and…”
“It’ll be a cold day in hell when I wear skinny jeans. What is wrong with the way I dress?”
“Nothing. I don’t care what you wear. You look good in whatever you put on. That being said, I prefer when you’re taking your clothes OFF…”
“I don’t want to be his little plaything. His science experiment. Why can’t I just be who I am? Why do I have to change? As long as you’re not complaining…”
“Like I said, I don’t care what you wear. You always look good. But Desi wants to do this with you. He wants to dress you up and make you look good. Fashionable. He wants to see you in some Huge Boss and some Gucci and some Tom Ford.”
“I’m more comfortable in shit from Target.”
“Just humour him. He’s got amazing fashion sense. It won’t hurt to have a few of Desi’s staples and favourites in your closet. And personally? I’d kill to see you in a pair of skinny jeans. They’d make your ass look incredible. Or even more incredible than it already is. Not to mention you’ve got those crazy, long ass legs.”
“Why don’t you just cut to the chase and say you want me to buy a pair? Because if you want me to…”
“Nope. Has to be your decision. I’m not telling you what to do. But I will say the thought of you in skinny jeans? Totally makes me hot for you. Hotter than you usually make me, And that’s pretty damn hot.”
He stares at her pointedly, then returns to spreading thick layers of Cheese Whiz on two pieces of toast.
“Just saying. They would. Did I not go out and buy TWO sexy outfits for you? To wear on New Year's Eve? Not just one, babe. TWO. And believe me, they are way out of my comfort zone. But it’s what you wanted so I went and found ones I thought you’d find incredibly hot. And just might make you self combust in record time.”
“I’m not supposed to do that until AFTER I get you out of the outfits.”
“You said sexy, so I got sexy. And think about it. Think about how hot you make me on a regular basis. Extremely hot, right? So if I say you in skinny jeans would make me even MORE hot…”
“So if I put them on whenever I want sex, I’ll immediately get it?”
Esme nods. “More than likely.”
“And if I want to add to my mile high club points, I just need to wear them on the plane?”
“If your children aren’t there, yup.”
“Fine.” He sets the plate of toast down in front of her. “I’ll get the damn skinny jeans. But I don’t ever want to hear you say I never do anything nice for you.”
“I never say that to begin with, so…” she tilts her face up towards him, hand on his hip as he leans down to peck her lips.
She never tires of it. The random embraces; wrapping his arms around her from behind while she stands at the stove or the washing machine or while standing in front of the bathroom sink brushing her teeth. Curling an arm around her waist and pulling her tightly into his side during their walks on the beach or always taking her hand while strolling through town. The little unexpected kisses; placed up on her temples or cheeks or the corners of her mouth or dropped onto the top of her head. Even at the dinner table or while sitting on the couch he always finds a way to maintain physical contact; sides of thighs touching or a foot resting against hers, shoulders or elbows lightly pressed together. It had taken years for him to open up to both accepting and giving affection; a childhood wracked with horrendous abuse and no love shown, a first marriage whose novelty had worn off quick and gone cold and stale, years building up walls around his heart to avoid connecting with anyone and therefore preventing the brutal sting of loss.
Out of nowhere it had all come together, and the change in him was like night and day. He didn’t initially stiffen up when embraced and became quick with the touches and the hugs and the kisses. Suddenly comfortable with both verbal and physical expressions of adoration and love. Now she cherishes every single moment of it. Knowing how far he’s come and how hard he’s had to work; so willing to sacrifice personal comfort to be the kind of man he felt she wanted, needed, AND deserved.
“You’re kinda cute, you know that,” she comments, biting into a slice of toast as she watches him; the way the muscles in his arms bulge and twist with even the simple task of scooping ice cream. It never gets old. Seeing the way his body moves and how it feels under her fingertips; hard muscle and smooth skin that boosts a handful of scars of various shapes and sizes.
He casts a grin over his shoulder. “Just kinda?”
“Very cute,” she declares. “And hot. And sexy. And oh so fuckable.”
“All those things rolled into one, huh?”
“You’re quite the catch,” she says, leaning back against him when he stands behind her stool; tilting her head back and smiling up at him as he reaches past her body to set the bowls on the counter. “I lucked out. I knew you had potential. The day I met you in your little shack. I knew a good thing when I saw it.”
“I was half in the bag and feeling pretty damn good from Oxy. Hardly a good thing.”
“Please, you looked so freaking hot. With that shirt tight around your arms and your kick ass haircut and your blue eyes and your nice butt. You know what was REALLY sexy? When your hair would fall across your forehead. That did funny things to my insides.”
“Just back then or…?”
“Still does it to me even now.” She reaches up to push the wayward tresses off her forehead, smiling when he presses a line of kisses down the bridge of her nose. “And I don’t care what you say. You ARE cute. We’re going to forever agree to disagree on this one, But I did, you know. See the potential in you.”
“Let me guess. It was all in my eyes?”
“And your smile. The way you smiled at me was...I don’t know...different. Than the way anyone else ever smiled at me.”
He sidles up beside her, snagging one of the spoons and digging into his ice cream. “Something tells me you’ve had a lot of guys smile at you.”
“Not a lot. A few. But none of them have ever smiled at me the way you do.”
“That’s because they don’t love you. I do.”
“You didn’t love me when you first smiled at me. It was still a different kind of smile.”
“That was a ‘damn she’s cute, I wouldn’t mind banging her’ smile.”
She gives a derisive snort.
“What? You WERE cute. In those little shorts and that tank top and your piercings and your ink. I was impressed. And for the record, I DID want to bang you. Right away. You were fresh meat.”
“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes and tears a piece of toast off with her teeth.
“You were. I’d never seen you before. You just showed up on my doorstep. Like this little present being delivered just for me. And I hadn’t sex in four months, so….”
“Poor baby. My heart bleeds for you.”
“You were a new face, had a wicked little body on you, a tongue ring. Is it any wonder why I wanted to rail you?”
“That’s all I was to you. Fresh meat. A new piece of ass.”
“At first. But then I got to know you and everything changed. Very quickly, I might add.”
“It was rather quick,” Esme admits. “Do you ever regret it? How quickly it DID happen?”
“What guy in their right mind is going to regret banging you?”
“I don’t mean the sex. I mean everything else. The whole quiet stuff afterwards. The cuddling and…”
“Okay, let’s get one thing straight. You cuddled up to me.”
“Tyler, give it a rest. It’s been twelve and a half years. I’ve known for a long time that you actually enjoy cuddling. And you’re a master at it. You enjoyed it that first night. You hung back a bit, but you gave in pretty quick.”
“I don’t know…” he shrugs, and a slight blush creeps into his cheeks and the tips of ears. “...I was comfortable with you. It felt...nice.”
“Are you blushing? You are! Baby…” she stands on the bottom rung of the stool and presses a kiss to his temple. “...you’re so freaking adorable.”
He frowns, gently using his elbow to push her away. “Stop it.”
“Blushing. With your wife. Who you’ve known for more than a decade. Who is the last person you should get embarrassed in front of.”
“Esme…”
“Why would you be embarrassed? Tae…” she nuzzles his cheek with the tip of her nose, then sits back down on the stool. “...God I love you.”
“I don’t like talking about this stuff. The...I don’t know...emotional stuff. I can talk about sex all day, every day. But THAT? The other stuff that went down between us?”
“That other stuff was amazing and beautiful. And totally not what I expected from you. That’s what made it so great. This big, muscly, tattooed and scarred up mercenary being so cuddly and spilling his guts and crying to me and…”
“Oh fuck…” he groans. “....can we not do this? Talk about this stuff? Please?”
“I’m just saying that the after stuff? That was pretty amazing too. And you don’t need to be embarrassed about it. I mean, you ended up marrying the person you did all that stuff with. You’ve had kids with her. Seven of them. You don’t have to be embarrassed about that stuff. About anything, actually.”
“It’s just not who I am. Even now. I don’t talk about that stuff. I’m not comfortable with it.”
“Even with me?”
“It’s nothing to do with you. I just get..I don’t know...weirded out. I liked it, alright. Being like that with you. It had been a long time since I’d done anything even remotely like that. And it felt good. It felt right. YOU felt right.”
“Strange, huh? Totally wrong place, totally wrong time. But it felt so good.”
“It did,” he agrees, and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth.. “And I don’t regret a damn thing about it. About you. About us.”
Smiling, she curls an arm around his waist and leans into him; hand repeatedly stroking his lower back as she takes turns delving into her ice cream and enjoying the cheese toast. The silence between them has never been awkward; neither ever feeling the need to fill the minutes with mindless chit chat. It’s companionable and it’s relaxing; the close proximity of their bodies and their familiar smells is its own form of intimacy. It’s the comfortableness that exists between two people that have seen each other at every stage of their lives. The lowest of the lowest and the highest of the highs . Grieving AND celebrating. Bloodied, battered and broken and in near perfect health. Who’ve experienced the miracle of birth and the devastation of loss. Who had seen each other at their very worst right at the start, yet still chose one another. And STILL keep choosing each other. Every day. Regardless of the pain and obstacles thrown in their direction.
*****
“It’s weird that Riley and Sheana left so soon after dinner,” Esme breaks the silence, pushing her empty plate away; using the spoon to swirl now melting ice cream around in the bowl. “I thought they’d stay longer. They usually do.”
“Probably just tired. It’s a long flight. Sometimes we handle it well, other times we feel like complete and utter shit for a couple days.”
“Is it wrong that I’m glad they decided to stay at a hotel this time? I love my sister. And Shaena. Dearly. But I can not handle any more extra people in this house. Not when we’ve got so much to do and Ovi’s wedding is right around the corner. House guests are the last thing I need to be dealing with.”
“I was thinking I’m more glad they chose the hotel because I didn’t want to hear them getting busy. Weird, considering the kind of porn I used to watch. When I was single and having to tend to my own business all the time.”
“Oh please. You probably had all kinds of Sheilas on speed dial. And USED to watch? You STILL watch that stuff.”
“I’ll have you know, that I haven’t watched any that doesn’t involve me and you….or just you...in years. Why do I need to? I’m married to a goddess. Why watch fake shit when I watch the real stuff? It’s got the most beautiful girl in the world in it. The woman I love. What’s hotter than that?”
‘“You have issues, you know that?”
“If my issue is that I love and lust you, then yeah. I guess I do. I DO have issues. And trust me, babe. Those videos? Fucking amazing. Gets the job done. In record time.”
“Oh God,” Esme groans. “I do NOT need to hear this.”
He leans into her, playfully nudging her with his elbow. “Do you want to watch them with me? Tonight? Get you in the mood?”
“You think that’s what it takes for me to get in the mood?”
“No. I know it doesn’t take much for me to get you there. It would just be really hot. Watching them with you. Do something nice for me.”
“I do plenty of nice things for you. Who went from once a year butt stuff to near daily?”
“But you like that though. That’s why you give it up more. Just watch it with me. Just one of them. And then we’ll make another one. On New Year's Eve.”
Sighing heavily, she shakes her head. “Remind me again why I married you?”
“Because I dick you down like no one else ever has. And because of my eyes. And my butt. Probably my voice too.”
“The whole trifecta. Eyes, butt, voice.”
“And because you love me,” he adds, and lightly and teasingly ruffles her hair. “That’s the main reason.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “I DO love you. Despite what’s in my best interests. And you’re right; Shaena and Riley DO get a little...wild.”
“And loud. Very loud.”
“You realize we do too, right? That we can be insanely loud.”
“No. YOU can be insanely loud. You’re the loud one.”
“Yeah, you’re the groaner and the growler and the swearer, I forgot.” She spoons the remains of the ice cream into her mouth. “I still think they left way too early. Totally uncharacteristic of them. Did everything go okay? When you talked to her?”
“Best as can be expected, I guess.”
“You totally lost your shit on her, didn’t you.”
“Did you hear me yelling?” He gathers up the empty bowls and carries them to the sink. “Throwing shit around?”
“You long ago mastered the art of losing your shit WITHOUT doing any of that.” She swivels her seat around; watching as he rinses the dishes and cutlery and then loads them into the dishwasher. “Tyler James…”
Smirking, he dries his palms on the thighs of his shorts. “Esme Michelle…”
“You did, didn’t you? Lost it.”
“I may have been a little harsh. No more than she was.”
“Riley harsh? Never.”
Leaning back against the dishwasher, he crosses his arms over his chest. “I said what I needed to say.”
“Which was?”
“I told her that you ‘fessed up. About the whole fake girls weekend thing. And I said I was pissed. That she didn’t call me. Let me know what was going on. That I had a right to know that my wife was in a crisis.”
“I wasn’t in a crisis. I was…”
“I had a right to know,” he forcibly repeats. “My wife calls her sister and says she wants to kill herself? That is definitely something I should have been told.”
“She only kept it quiet because I asked her to. I made her promise not to tell you. I was worried; I didn’t want you going off the deep end hearing something like that. I didn’t want you spiralling because I was.”
“You think I’m THAT weak? That I couldn’t handle hearing that?”
“I don’t think you’re weak at all. I’ve never thought that. You’re the strongest person I know. In every possible way. But I didn’t want to put something else on you. You were away on job. You needed to stay focused on it. It was your priority.”
“YOU’RE my priority,” he retorts. “ There’s not a job in this world that could EVER be more important. In fact, other than my kids? NOTHING is more important than you. You never should have asked Riley to lie for you. You shouldn’t have put that on her. That wasn’t fair to her.”
“I know,” Esme admits. “But I wasn’t exactly in my right mind, was I. And at that time, keeping it from you seemed like the best thing. For everyone. I didn’t want to add more to your plate. The business was just starting to really take off and things were crazy busy and you had a lot going on. I didn’t want to give you more to deal with. I didn’t want to burden you.”
“You’re my wife. You could never be a burden. If you’d called me, I would have gotten on the next plane home. I would have talked you down and got you off that ledge and I would have come back to Australia. You know I would have.”
“I do know you would have. Which is why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want all that extra on you. You were busy and…”
“I am never too busy when it comes to my family,” he interjects. “You are the most important thing in my life. Nothing else comes close. And I know you think you need to protect me, but I am more than capable of handling things like this. When I have I not stepped up? When I have not shoved my own shit aside to take care of you? When have I not been there when you needed me?”
“You’ve always stepped up. You’ve always put everything aside for me. I’m not arguing that. I’m not saying you wouldn’t have come home or that you wouldn’t have dropped everything to get back to me. I KNOW you would have. But I wasn’t in my right mind. It was telling me I needed to keep it from you. For all the reasons I’ve told you over and over again. It wasn’t to hurt you, Tyler. I would never, EVER, hurt you.”
“Well it did hurt,” he confesses. “A lot. The fact you turned to her instead of me.”
“She was right next door. You were thousands of miles away,” Esme attempts to reason. “I needed help right there and then.”
“And I would have helped you. If you’d called. But you didn’t. You didn’t even give me the chance.”
“It wasn’t intentional. I was scared and I was panicking and I just acted in the moment. That’s it. I wasn’t thinking rationally. I wasn’t thinking ‘hey, let’s find a way to hurt Tyler’s feelings’. Because I would never do that and you know it.”
“She should have called me. You might not have been in your right mind, but she was. And she should have gotten a hold of me. That’s what I told her.”
“And what did she say?”
“That she did what her sister asked. That that’s where her loyalty lies. With you. And I told her that you being my wife and the mother of my kids totally trumps the relationship she has with you. What if you’d never gotten a hold of her? What if that pushed you right over the edge and you had done something?”
“I wasn’t thinking about any of that. I was freaking out and my brain was all messed up. I wasn’t thinking rationally.”
“One of our kids would have found you. And I can’t stop thinking about that. The fact you wouldn’t have been around in the morning and one of them would have went looking for you and they would have found you. Do you know what that would have done to them? Seeing that? That’s your kids. MY kids.”
“What do you want me to say, Tyler? I’ve already said I was sorry. Do you want to say it a million times more? Because I will. Yeah, I should have called. And when I WAS in the right frame of mind again, I realized how badly I fucked up. Because in the end, it was you that I wanted. It was you I wanted taking care of me. Not Riley. Not some stupid psychiatric hospital. YOU.”
“I can’t pretend that it didn’t bother me. That it didn’t hurt. The fact you didn’t trust me with it. With you.”
“You have that right. To be hurt. And I’m sorry. Because that is NOT what I meant to do. I would never pick anyone over you. EVER. And I’m sorry I did. If I could go back, I’d do everything differently. But I can’t. And I know you’re hurt and you’re pissed and you probably hate me right now…”
“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I love you. Which is I wanted to be the one to take care of you. Because I DO love you. We’re supposed to be a team, Esme. We’re supposed to be in this together. And sometimes….I don’t know...sometimes I don’t think you’re as invested in that part of things as I am.”
“That’s not fair. I have given everything to you. Right from the beginning. I was willing to give up my life for you. On that bridge. I gave up my family. Any friends I had. I moved to a country on the other side of the world. I started a whole new existence. For you.”
“I didn’t hold a gun to your head,” he reminds her. “ You made the decisions you did on your own.”
“Because I was in love with you. Because I wanted to be with you. But I still gave everything up. And I feel like I keep giving and giving and giving. And I’m scared one day there’s going to be nothing left to give. Then what? I won’t be of any use to you. Or our kids. “
“So somehow it’s my fault? That you keep giving and giving? Like you’re the only one that’s being doing that? I gave up things too. Most of them I needed to. The booze, the Oxy, the living in some crappy little shack in the outback. Those needed to go. But I also gave up everything I knew for you. I walked away from the job. TWICE. And I know I got sucked back in…”
“It wasn’t your fault. You had no control over that.”
“...but I started that business for you. Because you didn’t want me going out there anymore. You didn’t want me getting my hands dirty. Putting myself in the fire.”
“Do you blame me? Tyler, you have a wife. You have SEVEN kids! Why would you risk yourself when you have so much to lose? Especially when you’re not a hundred percent. You know damn well you’re not where you were thirteen years ago. You’ve admitted that yourself. Why would you go out there under those circumstances? Leave your family? People who love you? Why would you…?”
“Because I’m a selfish bastard, Esme. Just like everyone says I am. Have you ever thought maybe they’re right? That I really AM that person?”
“You’re not. You’re selfless, if anything. You’re not who they say you are. You never have been. Where is this coming from? I thought we were talking about Riley? How did it turn into being about us? Into a fight? How…?”
“I’m not trying to fight with you. I’m not.”
She valiantly holds back a flood of tears. “It sure as hell feels like you are.”
He finally approaches her. Crossing the room in two long strides and gathering her in his embrace; one hand resting on the small of her back and the other buried in her hair. “I’m sorry.” Gentle pressure draws her head into his chest; fingertips softly massaging her scalp. “I didn’t mean to take shit out on you. That’s the last thing I wanted to do. But I was angry. I still am. More at her than you. You weren’t thinking right. She was. She knew better.”
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she turns her teary face up towards him. “She was just doing what I asked. And at the time it seemed like the right thing. I’d give anything to go back and do things differently.”
“Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry.”
“I know I hurt you. I never meant to. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“So am I. For making you cry. I fucking HATE when you cry.”
“I seem to be doing a lot of that lately. Crying. I think it’s my hormones. Oh God..." she chews anxiously on her bottom lip. "...maybe I’m starting menopause.”
“Or maybe you’re just married to a humongous asshole.”
“No, that’s not it. You’re not THAT big of an asshole.”
He stares down at her pointedly.
“You are a bit of one. You know you are. So don’t look at me like that.”
“Yet here you are,” he uses the front of his muscle to clear the tears off her cheeks and wipe her runny nose. “Twelve and a half years later. Putting up with it.”
“The sex is good. Really good. Really, really, REALLY good.”
“I knew it. Just using me for my body. And my dick.”
“That’s it,” she sniffles. “That’s all it’s ever been about. Your body and your penis.”
“You know, I’m just enough in love with you to accept that. And put up with it.”
“I love you. More than you could ever know. I love you more and more every day. Please tell me you never doubt that.”
“I don’t,” he assures her, then gently cradles her face in his palms and presses a tender kiss to her lips. “And I never will.”
#Tyler Rake#Tyler Rake fan fiction#Extraction fan fiction#Chris Hemsworth#Chris Hemsworth extraction#Chris Hemsworth Tyler Rake#Tyler Rake x OFC#Tyler Rake fan fic#Extraction fan fic#Esme and Tyler series
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iii. the dinner date.
ocean’s eleven au, aaron hotchner x female!reader. the dinner date.
inspiration from this prompt. some of the dialogue is taken directly from the film.
i. // ii. // iii. // iv. // v. // vi. // vii.
-
it’s morning. that’s what hotch sees when he blinks awake.
there’s an upside to infiltrating a five-star hotel and casino you mean to rob, and that’s that the beds are often perfect, and sunlight comes through the windows at the ideal time of day. early enough that the visitor doesn’t feel like the day is wasted, but late enough to encourage going down to the floor, hitting a couple of rounds after a much-too-expensive brunch.
aaron hotchner is not the target demographic. he knows too much about the behind-the-scenes of this particular place to linger in it, but he is... fond of the bed all the same. there’s something about a hotel bed, the way the sheets feel against his skin, that makes everything feel, at the very least, okay. after all, there’s no personal history in a hotel. there’s only what you wake up to do and fall asleep doing. mistakes left behind for the housekeeping to wash away.
and god knows he has a lot of mistakes to wash away.
he sits up. moves to the bathroom, to the shower. dresses in a decent suit, because anything less would make him stand out the same way anything more would, and his job isn’t to stand out. his job is to relax, and observe, and remain behind the scenes until he needs to step in. by the time he looks in the mirror, his armor is on, and the sun is a bit too high in the sky for his liking, but he quickly makes his way to the adjoining room, where dave and some of the others are lingering.
“what’s the problem?” he immediately asks. because alvez and simmons are here, and they shouldn’t be here. they should be on the floor, causing a distraction, because that’s what they do. that’s the plan.
“i don’t know, boss. garcia said to wait, so i waited,” alvez tells him, shrugging, which earns him a hit from simmons.
“oh, so garcia said?” simmons rolls his eyes. “i told you we should’ve gone. you know jareau and lewis are waiting for us.”
“and get caught? come on, man, that’s stupid -”
“you’re stupid -”
“hey,” rossi says, firm, and the two of them stop shoving and just glare. hotch just looks between them, finally meeting rossi’s eyes for a casual, silent conversation.
rossi just smirks.
you hired them.
yeah. he did.
he turns to the other person in the room, gives her a steady gaze. “garcia. what’s the problem?”
she’s fidgety. hands playing with a flamboyant pen that matches her extravagant necklace. she forces herself to stand out, and it’s why her best work is behind the scenes. “foyet doesn’t want anyone touching what he’s got,” she says. “obviously. so the only way for someone to get in is to get me a hardline wired. that way we have control of visual and audio. it gets us a secure and steady in, rather than me having to fight foyet’s firewalls every time i want to change camera angles, or replace a video - “
hotch lifts his hand to stop her. he doesn’t need the details. he just needs to know if it’s feasible. “so. a hardline would get you what you want?”
“if we want to finish this recon, yes. it’s the only way for me to get all of the sightlines we need.” she looks frustrated, but lifts her chin to look at him anyway, dips it in a nod. “sir.”
so hotch thinks. he thinks, because he’s the idea man, and when he nods, it makes garcia raise her brow.
“sir?”
“get changed. you’ll go in yourself. dave will get you a uniform, and you’ll install the hardline. alvez and simmons will provide the distraction, which was their... original goal, and you will go in and get what you need.”
her eyes widen, and had been progressively growing to the size of dinner plates during his plan. “sir, i’m not... i’m not meant to be out there. in the field. in the casino. i’m supposed to be here, behind my screen, looking from a distance -”
he offers her some vague reassurance, with a smile and a hand on her shoulder. “and you will be. as soon as you finish, you’ll be back here, but for right now, what we need is that direct wiring into the system, and i don’t trust these two to get what you need.”
that gets the attention of the men, who both lift their gaze to glare at their boss. but it’s not a real glare, just like hotch’s slight is not a real slight, and eventually it gets sorted. aaron steps back and watches the inevitable happen, watches alvez and simmons shove each other again on their way out the door. he rolls his eyes, looks at dave again, before taking his own leave.
“where are you going?” rossi asks, moving towards the bar as garcia sits silent. new for her, with the new role, as hotch starts to move out of the room with a purpose. because hotch is through with watching, after a moment, when another plan springs to mind, another moment formulating in hs brain.
“going to check on lewis, prentiss, and morgan,” he calls back. “and then i have some... business.”
hotch and rossi work because they have trust. so there’s no questions, just a brow raise, a nod.
“leave them be, aaron,” rossi calls out after him, which gets no reply. after all, no one else needs to know that it’s not morgan and prentiss and lewis he’s keeping an eye on, and it’s not alvez and simmons he’s tailing.
leaving hotch to take care of... business.
-
it’s evening. two days until their plan kicks into action. but hotch’s mind isn’t on the upcoming heist. no. his mind and his eyes are on you.
after all, prentiss, playing the big spender, has foyet’s attention. alvez and simmons are working the security, the ins and outs of the place, especially after getting garcia settled in.. reid is on foyet, marking his every move, and jareau and garcia are getting the looped footage for the big day. lewis is at one of the tables, dealing good hands, learning that system.
it works. the team works.
because while foyet is preoccupied with satisfying a vital customer, it means that he’s late to dinner. and at 7:16, hotch can see the way your head tilts to the side, just a little, the way your eyes start to scan the restaurant with a purpose. his eyes trace the line of your dress, your back dotted with beauty marks that he once had the privilege to put his lips on.
a privilege he lost. threw away. tossed aside.
he comes up from behind. walks with slow, deliberate steps, an unconscious attempt to mirror foyet’s gait, and as he moves close the burden of tension in you shoulders releases. you’re smiling, because your ears lift, ever so slightly, and when you turn to face him he pretends for a moment that it’s all for him.
“one minute late. for a moment there i thought i’d have to start a search...”
but the smile’s gone. you see him, and your vision goes a shade of red, surely, because your beautiful smile turns into a mouth agape. brows furrowing, eyes wide. your hand clutches your clutch, nails digging into the bejeweled bag, and hotch tries not to think about how in love with you he is but finds himself falling all over again.
“...party.”
he says your name. gently, like it’s the word of god. “i got out,” is what he follows it up with. not exactly the smoothest opening line.
“you got out?” you’re still shocked to see him, so your voice is weak.
“of prison.”
realization settles over you like a veil, closing you off. “aaron.”
his given name. the only person who says it much anymore is dave. but in your mouth, it’s the only one that fits.
shock turned into realization, which is now morphing into indignation. it plays out like a symphony on your face, and he moves to take a seat on your table, looking towards the waiter. he waves him down. “whiskey, and a whiskey.” he pinches his fingers, showing the sizes he wants, turning back to you with an elbow on the table.
there’s no more vulnerability on you. his eyes trace the line of your dress, meeting your eyes with a smile playing on your lips.
“it’s good to see you,” he offers, but you don’t take the bait.
“you shouldn’t be here.”
“i got parole. as long as i call...”
“i mean here, aaron. at this table. sitting down.”
there’s faux and real hurt in his gaze as he sits back, your glasses set in front of the two of you gently. “so. no time for old friends?”
“believe it or not, the less time spent with you the better.”
you lean back. lounging almost, in your chair, like you belong. your chin is raised, meeting his eyes, defiant, and he just sighs. leaning forward to take a drink of the amber liquid.
he didn’t think it’d be easy. bringing you back to him. but damn, if he didn’t think it would be easier. looking you in the eye and realizing he lost so much more than he realized. the room feels like it’s disappearing, and the only thing is the two of you sitting and this table.
but he pretends. he’s good at that. offers a small smile, a signature of his, and he watches as you tense at the sight that used to bring you so much... comfort. “so you think that foyet is the person who deserves your time? you don’t know who he is. if you think you’re free from a liar and a thief -”
the look you shoot him is nothing short of furious. “i think i’m free from you. and george... george cares about me. which is more than you ever did.”
he leans back in his seat, too, and looks you over. looks over your dress, the way it shines, the pretty blue, and tries not to reason that you chose blue because he told you once that it was his favorite color on you. because you were more than that now. separate from him. no matter how much he wished it different.
“the museum upstairs looks great.” his mouth feels dry, but he manages to put something hard in his tone. “tell me, what’s the differnce, between monet and manet?”
“one that you never bothered to learn,” you quip back, and your hand squeezes your bag just a little bit more. “aaron, you need to leave.”
“and you need to listen. he doesn’t... care about you.”
“and you’re one to talk about what it means to care about me, right? the expert?”
aaron doesn’t know how to respond to that. he was hoping there would be some tact, but you’re doing what you’ve always done. getting to the heart of him, pulling down defenses. but he can play that game, too, looks down at your left ring finger. “what happened to your ring?”
and because he knows you, he sees the look. the glance towards your own hand, the catch of your bottom lip between your teeth. you’re fighting something, and you must win so you can look him in the eyes once again when you say it.
“i sold it. or did you not get the papers?”
the papers. divorce papers. ones he turned over his hands a few times before walking out of the place. “i did. my last day inside.” he smirks with it, and your eyes drop, not looking at him, looking at almost anything else.
“i told you i’d write,” you finally whisper. with a sigh, you release your clutch, and glance behind you. waiting for a rescue.
“i’m sorry,” he tries, earnest. he means it. he doesn’t lie anymore, like he told you, but your eyes just roll.
“i’m sure you are, aaron. but i’m not.”
he knows he deserves that. and yet he still pushes. leans close. this is a game, the two of you are playing, and he’s good at those. always has been. “i’m here. for you.”
it’s the truth. bald-faced, almost as much as his lies before this whole mess, and that irony seems to settle with you, your open mouth closing tightly, jaw clenching.
“you’re a liar, and a thief. i don’t think i should find it a habit to believe what you say.”
“i don’t do that anymore,” aaron sighs out.
“what, steal? get hunted down by the FBI?”
“no. lie to you.”
you scoff. shake your head. “so you just lie to other people to get what you want?”
“i lied to you because you were all i wanted.” he leans forward, and his hand reaches for yours. by some miracle, you don’t pull away immediately, so he can savor it. your hand in his, like old times. “i’ve changed. i’m not putting up a front anymore. this. this is who i am.”
your jaw clenches. you almost seem to think about pulling away - there’s an aborted twitch of your hand, and his hold on you is loose enough, but then... then it stops. your touch lingers.
“y/n. look at me.”
and you do. turn your eyes on him, and he feels bare. he is bare. there’s no walls up, anymore. no more armor.
“you’re not the person i thought you were,” he says, brow furrowing as you scoff out a laugh. his thumb catches on your knuckle, and your shiver... disgust? “you’re... more. you’re you. please. come with me.”
“no, i’m just not the person you wanted me to be anymore. the girl who knew nothing because she wanted to know nothing.” your hand pulls from his with a sharp twist of your wrist, and he tries not to think too much about the ring he still has on, the one that you sold. “i didn’t ask questions, and that ended up with the FBI on my doorstep. so. i think i’ll pass.”
his eyes close. “i told you, i’m not lying to you. so i would ask you do the same for me.”
“i’m not lying, aaron. that was your job.”
he thinks. thinks about you, and foyet, and how it makes his stomach churn. “does he make you laugh?”
you push forward now, making sure he hears every sound you make. “he doesn’t make me cry.”
there’s a silence in the heartbreak. so quiet that neither of you notice the new set of footsteps apporaching the table.
“mr. hotchner. what a... surprise.”
the voice makes aaron tense, makes you lift your head with a smile that begs him to set you free.
“george,” you say, and it’s warm. he reaches for your shoulder and you don’t tense, you move into the touch.
“foyet,” hotch adds, and it’s polite. civil. cold.
“sorry i’m late. i was settling things with an influential guest,” he returns, and when he looks at aaron hotchner, there’s something there that sends hotch a chill down his spine. “i guess i didn’t know we’d be having a guest.”
hotch lifts from his chair, so that he’s eye to eye with the man. george foyet, in the flesh. he’s shorter, up close and personal, but his presence seems to fill the spot by your side. his grip on your shoulder is firm, and one of your hands has lifted to cover his.
“george, this is aaron,” you tell him, through your teeth.
when foyet laughs it’s grating. “i see. the criminal.” and even with, he extends a hand, a hand that aaron takes, shakes with a small smile. “the elusive aaron hotchner. it’s a pleasure.”
hotch’s mind is racing, thinking of how many millions he is going to pull out from under foyet’s feet. but for now, politeness. charm. “of course. lovely hotel you have.”
“made all the more beautiful by her,” the man brags, and when he leans down to kiss your cheek you smile, ducking your head. when foyet moves to sit aaron doens’t impede him. doesn’t dare disrupt the dinner. “are you enjoying your stay so far?”
he is, in a way. but not right now. not as he watches foyet take your hand, stretch your arm across the table, kiss your knuckles. “i am. i was just leaving my own meal when i saw my ex-wife and wanted to... just say hello.”
“exactly. he was just saying hello,” you agree, and when the two of you meet eyes he doesn’t miss your pleading.
leave, aaron. you need to leave.
“exactly. we were simply catching up. thinking about... better days.”
a dig that earns him a glare from you, but foyet seems unbothered.
“well, i hope you have a wonderful night, mr. hotchner,” foyet tells him, and it would almost be sincere if not for the fact that his eyes don’t leave you. “i don’t want our appetites to spoil.”
aaron’s fingers twist around his ring.
“of course. goodnight, y/n.”
“goodnight, aaron.”
hotch leaves the two of you behind. doesn’t look back, even at the sound of your voice lilting in the dining room, the sound of foyet’s arrogance not too far off either. walks quickly towards the stairs, moves up them with purpose, single-minded and not bothering to think about the lanky rookie trailing a distance behind.
after all, aaron is good at games. he knows how to play. and in the end, isn’t that what a heist is? a game that aaron knows how to win?
-
tag list: @blakeprentiss // @genevievedarcygranger // @quillvine // @falcon-arrows // @afuckingshituniverse // @sercyan // @sparklingkeylimepie // @kianagilder-blog // @alexxcorona113 // @mandyandy22 // @thedeaddrop // @angelsbabey // @lolychu // @icyprincess // @gabbygabbie // @cevanswhre // @roses-and-grasses // @mayaaaa // @baadmaxx // @ssaic-jareau // @mooneylupinblack // @rachelxwayne // @greenie128 // @dilaudidwinchester // @stylesboy // @grandpascurtains // @softbibxtch // @winterscaptain // @hurricanejjareau // @evans-dejong
#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner#female!reader#ocean's eleven au#george foyet#luke alvez#matt simmons#penelope garcia#david rossi#my fic
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Torn: Remus Lupin Story: PS OC: Chapter One: Sordid Sorting
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Remus Lupin Imagine Turned Story
Re-Written and Edit of an old story of mine I had on Mibba that deserved some more love and attention, lol.
Remus Lupin x Vega Black (OC, OFC, PLUS SIZE OC, PLUS SIZE OFC)
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“Yet when books have been read and reread, it boils down to the horse, his human companion, and what goes on between them.”
― Walter Farley
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This Chapter’s Song: “River” - Leon Bridges
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Vega was eleven when she first met Remus.
She incredibly nervous at the time seeing as how it was her very first year at Hogwarts.
Her aunt and uncle had heavily warned her about getting into any house other than Slytherin....as if she had some kind of control over that kind of thing.
Sirius, her older cousin, who was more like a brother to be honest, had simply wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"It'll be fine, V. I swear it. No matter what house you get in. It'll be fine. Maybe you'll even be a Gryffindor, like me." he had told her with that infamous smirk of his.
Twelve years old and full of pride over his house.
But Vega was not convinced.
She'd been home when they'd received the news of which house Sirius had been placed in....and well, it hadn't been good.
She remembered very clearly that she'd grabbed Regulus and they'd ran off to hide until the storm blew over.
If you were present when Orion or Walburga Black were angry....well, you'd likely become a target.
After her parents had died when she was seven, she’d been placed in the care of her closest relatives and that happened to be her Uncle Orion and his family.
She’d left behind her beloved country roads and enchanting woods of Tennessee in America and was relocated in London.
She was expected to go to Hogwarts rather than Ilvermorny.
She was expected to be a respectable pureblood and get sorted into the only reasonable house.
Needless to say, she was terrified.
At that particular moment in time, they were racing down the tracks on the Hogwarts express.
To calm her nerves, Sirius had offered to have her sit with him and his friends in their compartment.
She was first introduced to James.
A boy with impossibly messy black hair, glasses and a permanent smirk...almost identical to her brothers.
Next was a small boy named Peter with impossibly blue eyes that were a tad unsettling to her just due to the nature of how piercing they were.
He looked friendly enough and if Sirius liked him she was sure she would too.
Lastly, was Remus.
Oh, Remus.
He was tall and lanky with very pale skin and light brown hair.
Vega could distinctly see a few scars across his face and on his hands but due to his clothes all else was hidden.
But he had the most beautiful green eyes but curiously enough there seemed to be a very faint golden brown ring around them.
She wouldn't have noticed had she not been so taken with him.
He was much quieter than the others but still quite nice.
Remus John Lupin.
Her very first crush.
Remus would've died from mortification at that time if anyone knew but....he found her quite pretty.
She was a year younger, yes.
And she was also Sirius little cousin, this was true.
One that he’d spent the better part of last year talking about to his new friends.
“Oh, you’ll love Vega, mates.” he could remember him telling them. “She’s a little shy at first but she’s actually from America. A cowgirl.”
Remus doubted if she was actually a cowgirl since Sirius had a way of being dramatic.
But she was so pretty.
She and Sirius resembled each other a lot with their thick black hair and big striking grey eyes but her features were softer than his.
She was much quieter with Sirius, although not impolite.
Sirius, whether he liked to admit it or not, had had the same good etiquette beat into him that she had and it often gave him a sort of casual elegance.
Little Vega sat stiff backed, mouth shut and eyes trained determined on her book.
She found reading to be easier.
She could focus on the words there and not on what she might say wrong that could potentially anger her parents.
Books were just by far much easier.
This intrigued Remus.
He had asked her so softly.
"What are you reading?"
She jumped at the sound of his voice, even as soft as it had been.
"Oh, um, it's-uh." she stammered.
"Oh that's The Black Stallion." he smiled. "It's a great book. My mum read it to me when I was little. It's a great muggle book."
Fear struck through her.
"Oh, I- please don't tell Aunt Walburga. I just- It looked so interesting and I wanted to know about the horse." Vega rambled as tears filled her grey eyes.
Sirius gave a hard forced smile to his friends before he grabbed his cousin and yanked her out of the compartment.
"Vega! Calm down! Bloody hell!" he snapped.
Tears were spilling, "I'm sorry, Sirius! I'm sorry! I didn't meant to get you in trouble with your friends! Now, Aunt and Uncle will be furious! I'm sorry!"
Sirius placed his hands on the side of her face.
"Vega, V, look at me. Look. at. me." he said holding her in place and willing her big, frightened eyes to focus on him. "It's fine. No one will tell mum and dad. These are my friends. Remus was just making conversation. His mother is actually a muggle."
He added the last bit with a little smile towards her.
She'd been so frightened.
She sniffled before she hugged her book closer to her for a moment.
"Come on. Come back inside." he said trying to lighten the mood.
She shook her head sending the black tendrils everywhere.
"No." she said. "Those are your friends. I...I'll go sit with someone else."
"V, come on." he said.
But she'd already whipped around and was dashing away.
Sirius shook his head as he entered the compartment.
"I'm sorry, Sirius. Really, I didn't mean to upset her. I didn't think-" Remus began his apology.
Sirius waved him off, "It's fine, mate. V's just....she's a little skiddish is all. Our family can be a bit much sometimes. She just doesn't want to get in trouble."
There was a collective nod around the room.
It wasn't a huge secret that Sirius didn't have the greatest home life...but he was good at hiding it.
Seeing Vega be absolutely petrified by pure conversation....made it all too real for the twelve year olds in the compartment.
The four of them played cards for a bit longer until they train stopped and everyone filed off.
Remus caught glimpse of the silky, black hair glinting in the night and those two big grey orbs that looked like moons themselves.
They landed on him and he could even see her flush red...even in this poor lighting.
He smiled at her kindly and gave a little wave to which she returned...hesitantly before she was bustled along into the boat with the other first years.
He joined his friends and soon they were seated at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall listening to Dumbledore and waiting for the Sorting ceremony to begin.
Vega almost hid behind some of the first year boys as she entered the Great Hall and her cousin Narcissa smacked into her pushing her way to the front.
She’d willingly let her take the spotlight and hide amongst the others but it wasn't for long before someone spotted her and the whispered began.
"It's the Black girl!"
"That's Sirius' little sister!"
“No that’s his cousin! The one who’s parents were killed!”
"Bet she'll get into Slytherin!"
"Maybe Gryffindor!"
"I bet she's evil!"
"She looks just like him!"
“Did you hear about her father being a-”
She shook her head to try and drown them out and before she knew it...
"Vega Equuleus Black." came the crisp words from the professor.
She gulped and took careful steps up to the stool before carefully settling down on it.
The giant hat was placed upon her head and...
"RAVENCLAW!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Big, grey eyes snapped open in fear and shock.
She could distinctly see Sirius and his friends whooping and hollering on her behalf while her cousins at the Slytherin table looked less than pleased.
If she hadn't been in front of all those people....she would've cried.
Because she knew.
She knew that when Orion and Walburga found out....and she went home for holiday....there would be no escaping it.
They would be angry and she WOULD be punished.
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Chapter Two
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Hello my lovelies! Here is another rewrite of a previous work of mine that I had on Mibba! I did a bit of reworking on the character, her name and her backstory because I just felt like she deserved more! I would love to know what you think of little Vega!
So please comment, reblog with thoughts and/or smash the ask box! I do so love hearing from you my loves!
Love,
Kenny
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Love, Kenny
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#remus lupin#remus john lupin#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin story#remus lupin x plus size#remus lupin x ps#remus lupin x vega black#vega black#vega equuleus black#sirius black cousin#marauders#maruader era#young remus lupin#ps oc#plus size oc#ps ofc#plus size ofc
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Story time!
The start of this story has a bit of a theme song, because i just always think of this:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=uyGSe7…
Sad and awful as it looks, this actually has a majorly happy ending!
Major thank you to my friend Sumi-Sprite for collaging this for me!
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When Walter is 22, he goes on a very dangerous mission with Lance.
While they wait for backup (which Lance is willing to accept most of the time now on account of personal growth), the duo storms a chemical lab, where the "final battle" takes place.
I don't have a lot of details worked out, but long story short, they succeed in their mission (with several casualties as a result of what comes next), but fire and blow-outs in the lab lead to a very terrifying situation.
The men find themselves in a space with only one oxygen mask for emergencies.
Lance forces Walter to wear it, but even after being taught compromise, the latter is very stubborn.
As Lance begins to lose consciousness from being stuck inhaling smoke and various chemicals, Walter takes advantage of this.
He shoots him in the neck with his own tranquilizer (a familiar scene, no?), and as Lance is passing out, Walter gives him the mask instead.
Lance passes out from the tranquilizer, and Walter slowly begins to suffocate until he too, is rendered unconscious.
Lance wakes up in the medical bay at the H.T.U.V.
Delirious but suddenly remembering the mission, he starts to panic and call out for Walter.
Not a few moments later, the younger of them reveals he's in a bed right beside Lance's, groggy with an oxygen mask strapped to his face, an IV in his arm and an EKG hooked up to him, but he's smiling and reaching out for Lance.
Lance takes the boy's hand firmly and says "You scared me."
Walter answers with "You scared me first...!"
He sleepily explains that backup came and rescued them and brought them back to the agency, where they've apparently only been for a short while.
In better shape than Walter on account of the latter's sacrifice, Lance gets up and lays beside him, jokingly threatening a "quadruple fire" if he ever does something like that again.
Walter very softly smiles and says "I'm not sorry."
When Marcy eventually shows up to visit them after hearing the news, she finds them laying there in the bed together and jokingly asks if she's interrupting something.
"Nope, just two grown men cuddling after they almost died, nothin' to see here," answers Lance in a similar tone.
Marcy informs them that most of their targets were saved and are in custody (some of them being in the hospital), but a few of them died from the fire and chemical blast.
Walter is sad to hear it, but accepting of it, and glad that not every life was lost.
About an hour or two later, he's stable enough to be off of the oxygen and other attachments.
With all the smoke and chemical inhalation, the medical staff advises giving Walter a bronchoscopy to check for potential damage to his lungs.
Such a procedure often only requires conscious sedation with a numbing of the nose and throat, but when they get him to the operating room, Walter panics at the thought of being awake while having a scope down his throat; after having nearly suffocated to death just hours ago, the thought of being awake and the fear of suffocating again is too much to bear (even though he would be fine).
So instead, they decide to give him a general anesthesia and put him under for the procedure.
It's just safer for everyone this way.
When it's over and he's beginning to wake from the anesthesia, Walter is wheeled back to his room on the bed, and is happy to see Marcy and Lance waiting for him.
But anesthesia is a funny thing, and as he's wheeled in, he's singing the Disclaimer Song in a very loopy fashion.
Once settled, he chooses not to finish the song.
This conversation ensues:
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"Lance: You're not gonna finish the song?
Walter: *mildly sassy* Ffffhhh, youknooww... I sing...ALLLL the tiiime, anndiiiffinishh all of them, anndd it'ssfuunn, buut... Whyy issitt aalwaayys me...? Why'd's WalterrBeckkett onlyy siing??? YOUU finishth'sonng...
Lance: *"well shit" face* Wow, all right then, I'll finish the song. ♫Don't try this at home, if you do, you might--♫ Ey, aren't you gonna sing?
Walter: ...Mmm givinng youaheadd starrtt..."
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He joins in eventually.
There is a lot of talking about various things, and lots of Marcy and Lance laughing to themselves at the rambling and singing.
Oh yes, more singing.
Lots of singing.
Lance records some of the rambling, including an entire conversation that begins with Walter casually asking if they'll have to "take his lungs out."
After being told no, that he's perfectly fine, he says it would be hard to breathe without lungs, and then regales his company with the thought of the lungs being replaced with balloons.
Specifically, the left one would be blue, and the right one would be red.
Why?
He doesn't know, it's not his call, apparently.
At the thought of them popping if he took too deep a breath, a laughing fit on Walter's part ensues.
A little while later, this conversation happens:
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"Walter: Whenn I'mmbetterr, 'm gonna drriiveyou'round in the e-tron...
Lance: You wanna drive me around?
Walter: Yeaaah... Ohh, waait... Imight craash...
Lance: Naaahhh, i think it'd be worth the risk. You can drive the car.
Walter: Buutt youuloove that carr...
Lance: Yeah, well... I love you more.
Walter: Hmm..... Whaat...?
Lance: *softly* I said I love you, Walter."
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Lance has told him this before, but in his drugged up state, the blatant expression of love swiftly turns the tide of the mood from funny to pitiful.
Walter bursts into tears and tells Lance he loves him, too.
And Marcy.
And Killian, and Joy, and Lovey and Jeff and Crazy Eyes, and Terrance even though he ignores him, and August (OC) and Ramsey (OC [sorta]) and Shannon (OC) and that he thinks it's mean that people nickname Joy "Joyless," all while bawling his poor eyes out.
Endeared, Marcy and Lance try to calm him down.
But Walter reveals that he hasn't forgotten his conversation with Lance when they first woke up in that room together.
He says he's sorry for scaring Lance, that he just didn't want him to die because he "doesn't want to be alone again," but that he understands Lance has the same fear and he just couldn't win.
Somewhere in the rambling mess of emotions, he mentions fear of Lance "dying like his mother."
Basically, every subconscious or pushed-down negative thought and feeling he's had since the mission comes blubbering out in a heap of drunken tears and sadness.
Seeing how very real his distress is, his company is quick to try and ease his mind and offer him comfort.
Walter asks if Lance really is going to fire him again, to which Lance says no.
He then asks if Lance is mad at him, which earns another "no."
Lance says no one is mad at him, that he just needs to close his eyes and try to take a nap.
After a few minutes of quietly crying to himself with his eyes closed, Walter comes to a terrifying conclusion...
What if he never stops crying?!
Of course, Lance almost bursts out laughing, but a death glare from Marcy forces him to keep it to himself, lest he risk further upsetting Walter.
It may sound ridiculous, but for someone who's been anesthetized, every feeling is very real.
Marcy comforts him, tells him no, he's not going to cry forever.
It's not long before the tears slow down.
They don't stop, but they slow down.
[fun fact: crying is reported in 40% of patients who wake from anesthesia, be it for a presented reason or for no reason at all. Very little is known about why this occurs, though it's suspected that the stress and fear from whatever they had to be put out for manifests itself in that drugged-up state. This is referred to as "the boo-hoos."]
But it's late, and Marcy must go home.
She and Lance talk off to the side, and the lady gives her man a kiss to remember her by for the evening.~
After Marcy's departure, Lance decides that after everything they've been through and with how upset Walter's been, he will sleep in the bed with him.
He reclines him, crawls in, and holds him tight until morning.
Walter wakes up around 1 in the morning, mildly confused, but Lance tells him to go back to sleep.
Happy that Lance stayed with him and choosing not to question this unexpected all-night cuddling party, he submits without a word.
By morning, everything is fine, and the anesthesia has worn off.
Before the lad can even put his clothes on, Lance just HAS to show him the video he took of him while he was all loopy.
Walter is embarrassed and cringes through it, but also laughs at some parts.
It's a happy ending.
"Okay but for real, don't ever do that again."
"No promises."
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This movie is something else.
Lance, Walter and Killian have all experienced trauma and loss, but in different ways.
Walter and Killian are the extremes; one copes with loss through love, wanting desperately to let people in and let others know they aren't alone.
Killian has no way to cope, and expresses his pain through hatred and a desperate longing to make the one who hurt him feel what he's felt, and then end it all in his own death.
Lance is right in the middle.
He has acquaintances, he talks to people, he cares, but he holds everyone at arm's length.
He pretends everything is fine, he acts cold and aloof, "too cool" for playing on a team or working with others.
But really, it's a fear of letting others in, because life could take it all away again.
He still bears a lot of empathy, but also exercises carelessness on criminals.
He and Killian are not so different, but with Walter's help, both men learn to open up (we can see Killian's expression for redemption in his final scene in the movie, we know he was a little touched that Walter saved him. Also consider, Killian didn't know Walter survived that fall at the time).
So now that they're partners and each have someone in their lives to love -- multiple people now, in fact, it means feeling desperation to keep them close.
It means taking a bigger risk, it means work.
After everything they've been through, no, Lance is not ashamed to hug and hold and love on his little nerdy white gay son.
He's not afraid of intimacy anymore, no matter the form.
He'll take what he can get, because tomorrow is never a promise.
Would you die for the ones you love...?
#Spies in Disguise#Walter Beckett#Lance Sterling#Marcy Kappel#Unus Annus#kind of#i mean i meme their song all the time#disclaimer song
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Night at the Wayne Casino
Part 1
Word count: 1,732
Pairings: Damirae
Rating: Mature/eventual NSFW
Casino AU
The first night he saw her casually playing at one of the craps tables. She had been placing sloppy bets and then somehow hitting is big within a few more tries. He strolled by, inspecting the table, the dice, her, but he came up empty handed. It didn't make sense. Or maybe it did and it was luck for the beautiful woman. He hadn't seen her at this casino before nor any of the other ones he worked at but there was something off. He received the tip from the surveillance guy, Tim Drake. While he wasn't particularly fond of his coworker, he had never been wrong on one of his calls. Drake felt something was off too.
"Jon, I'm going to run a sweep of the Titan room. Keep eyes on Lucky and report any suspicious activity immediately." Damian made his way to the other side of the casino for his regular walk of the floor. He couldn't be distracted by the suspect and leave the rest of the casino unguarded.
Damian took his job very seriously. He was head of floor security and he had been protecting his father's casino since he'd been eighteen, five years later and he was the best of the best. He trained hard in many forms of combat to be ready for anything and he regularly kept up on psychological studies to better inform him on the subtle tells of body language and master mental manipulation to make him the best man for the job. His father was skeptical of putting his son on this task instead of on the business side of things. Damian excelled at analyzing profit margins and cutting expenditures where needed that would make the casino run more efficiently, but he didn't get the same satisfaction as he did when he caught a con.
His floor partner, Jon Kent, was both his best friend (not that he had any other friends) but also his right hand man. Where he lacked in focus sometimes, he made up in enthusiasm and physical strength. Jon was sometimes too nice for the job and would often question Damian about the tactics he used to get information out of people or even if the suspects themselves were suspicious at all. The man was still good at his job albeit still somewhat inexperienced.
Damian stopped by the surveillance room to have a word with Tim before continuing his sweep. Tim looked focused on the many monitors in front of him, sometimes muttering into his walkie to guide one of the other security teams. There were already three empty cups of coffee and another in his hand. Damian scrunched his nose at his coworker's unhealthy caffeine addiction.
"Drake."
"Woah, Damian scared me there."
"You can't be very good at your job if you didn't hear the keycard chime or the door opening." Damian narrowed his eyes, he was not one to play games.
Tim rolled his eyes. "Easy Damian, I was kidding. What do you need?"
"The suspect 'Lucky'. When did you deem her to be a potential threat?" He walked further into the office and started looking over the monitors.
Tim spun in his chair to another desk and picked up a notebook. He flipped through the pages until he found the notes he had on the woman. "Let's see. Attractive woman, fair complexion purple dyed hair, sexy powder blue dress, not wearing underwear….didn't need to say that out loud." He mumbled the last bits to himself.
Damian snapped around, his temper starting to flare. Did Drake think this was a joke? "I didn't ask about her appearance or your sexual attraction to her. I asked when she was deemed a threat Drake."
Tim nervously chuckled and turned the page. It seemed that he had taken quite a few notes about her appearance. "Here it is, 7:40pm. She had been previously seen roaming the rooms, never staying at a table for too long before moving on. She won or broke even 12 of the 15 times she played. Her behavior was what threw me. When she won she had almost no change in emotion, like she expected the outcome every time. She also made eye contact with every single camera over the course of 3 hours."
"Did she have a particular game she played most? Did she have anyone with her?" Damian snatched the notebook out of his hands and continued reading the notes.
"She spent a lot of time at the black jack tables. And fortunately nobody came in with her." Tim unabashedly grinned.
"Why is that fortunate?" Damian didn't even look up.
"Uh..because that means she's fair game, she's single, flying solo."
Damian looked up and glared. "She is suspected of conning our casino. Your only thoughts of her should be when and where she'll strike harder."
"Oh I know where I want her to strike harder."
"This conversation is over. Report any new information." Damian turned on his heels.
"Was that what this was? A conversation? I always felt like I'd be more excited when this day came." Tim stroked his chin looking amused.
"Shut up, Drake." Damian called over his shoulder before walking out and slamming the door behind him. Was he the only one that took his job seriously?
Damian crossed the casino floor to the Titan room, which was known for lower stakes bets. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his current number one suspect leaned casually against the side of a slot machine occupied in conversation with the oncoming bartender, Jason Todd. That imbecile was a constant flirt and would cost the casino thousands by giving 'hot' women free drinks and sneaking himself and his budding freebies too. It looked like Damian's suspect was Todd's target and Damian was pissed.
He stayed back watching their interaction for a few moments to see what the woman was playing at. She seemed to be too intelligent to fall for any of Todd's bullshit, so she must be the one playing him. Todd had one arm propped up on the machine just above her head and the other was toying with the spaces her dress left. Damian swallowed and an unwelcome heat rising to his cheeks and somewhere lower.
The woman was attractive, there was no denying it. Her skin was ivory and it contrasted well with her shoulder length raven hair. Some strands were dyed a dark purple hue but blended well within the black and was only noticeable when the light reflected off it in just the right way...classy. Damian was accustomed to scantily clad women, short dresses were almost the dress code in Las Vegas and more importantly in the Wayne Casino. Women from all over knew how handsome the owner is and would try anything to be noticed.
This woman's dress, although it was borderline slutty, something he despised, Damian couldn't help basic emotion of lust flow through him as he took her all in. Damn it, Drake was correct once more. She wasn't wearing underwear. Her powder blue halter dress had a deep v-neckline that showed her full breasts through thin strands that were corseted over the opening. He knew how Drake had come to the conclusion that she had no underwear on, the sides had the same corset look but with a wider gap between the sides of the dress and wider ribbon, this showed much of the skin of her hips and ribs with no obstruction of panties or a bra. The bows at the bottom reached mid thigh, allowing her smooth shapely legs to remain on display. Her silver strappy heels elongated them even more so and added to her height, she couldn't have been taller than 5'5" without them. The material of her dress looked soft and expensive, not like the cheap clothes most other women here wore. The dress hugged her alluring curves perfectly and made her look like a fucking goddess.
Damian mentally berated himself for eyeing his prime suspect like that. What annoyed him more was that he didn't want Todd to touch her like he was. Jason's fingers traced the pale skin in between the gaps of ribbon on her hips, leaning in and whispering something in her ear and making her blush and smirk. She reached up and smoothed the collar of his button up shirt, saying something softly back earning a returned smirk from Jason. Jason slid his fingers beneath the ribbon and under the fabric covering her ass. He could see the bartender's attraction to the woman too easily from the way the fabric of his pants stretched. Pathetic. Damian's blood began to boil. Not only was this against policy but that woman was his. His suspect...someone that shouldn't be getting special treatment.
Damian heard the click of his earpiece as Drake's voice rang through. "That damn bartender. How does he always get so fucking lucky?"
"Drake, focus. She's under surveillance not available to win her heart. Get back to work and only use this line of communication for work purposes only." Damian growled at him. The other line went silent and Damian refocused himself too. He was about to stop the inappropriate behavior but it seemed that he didn't have to.
He had thought the woman was about to lean up to kiss Todd placing her hand on his chest and he looked ready for it. However, she instead firmly pushed Jason away, cocking her hip and folding her arms. She said something that made Jason's eyebrows fly up and a flush of embarrassment cross his face. The woman cast a glance downwards before casting another remark at him as she patted his shoulder and turned on her heel.
Damian was shocked to say the least. He had never seen any woman turn Jason Todd down and leave him looking like a wounded puppy. He heard Jason call out to the woman but she made no move to acknowledge him. Suddenly the woman was walking right past Damian slowing briefly to look him in the eye, a playful smile on her pretty lips. She reached up and touched his bicep delicately.
"Would you mind showing me where the ladies room is? I get so lost in here sometimes." Her voice was smooth and low, sultry even. What game was she playing?
Thanks for reading! This is my second ongoing story! The other is a Timrae fic❤
#damirae#damian wayne#jason todd#raven x damian#c#casino au#raven#teen titans#night at the wayne casino#tim drake#robin#robrae
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Hiraeth Chapter 33: Windswept
Masterlist can be found Here!
Chapter Thirty-Three: Windswept
Note: Hope your all having a good week! I loved the comments you left for the last chapter! They were so wholesome and sweet! Now then… onward!
(-~-)
Rain ran down the inner courtyard windows, soaking the pavement and topsoil below as the once light rains steadily progressed into a full-on storm. Thunder rattled the windows, and the occasional flash of light was the closest thing to mid-morning light that they would probably experience today. Wind whipped through the covered corridor, spraying water up the bottoms of the windows and caking mud and grime between every grove and seam in the stone foundation. It would be a mess to clean up, but at least they didn’t have to worry about that for a while now. They were safely inside of the old house, and that was where they would stay until this storm let up.
Some would consider the conditions dreary and even disheartening, but V welcomed them. There was something about the sight of rain that soothed him, the ambient trickle of water that threatened to lull him to sleep if he didn’t keep his wits about him. The addition of whatever kind of tea they had been served didn’t help, the warm mixture of herbs and spices tingling his tastebuds and swaddling him in an inviting warmth that he didn’t want to leave. All he was missing was a good blanket. He already had access to the fireplace on the right side of the room. He would have to make a note of asking what this was so that he could venture out and procure some for himself. Or maybe he could order it. Going to the grocery store wasn’t something he was keen to do for a while. Perhaps a grocery delivery service.
Noticing that the storm was picking up again, Magnolia leaned over and lazily rested her chin and neck on her open palm, her elbow doing most of the work in keeping her head upright. Now that she was able to truly appreciate the view from within her ancestral home, she had to admit that her assumptions about this storm were true. And something told the botanist that her young niece might agree with her. “This storm is unnatural. It has been for some time.
“It’s been storming quite a bit lately, hasn’t it? I mean, it’s always dreary in this region, but this year has truly been something else.” Hydrangea said casually as she sipped her tea, looking out at the rain-drenched garden just behind the glass on the far side of the room. Overcast weather didn’t help the encroaching darkness that had consumed the manor by this point. “Well, I can’t say the whole year. Just in the time since that whole ordeal in Redgrave City. I wonder if any of the locals have noticed. A storm rolled in a few weeks after it, and it just hasn’t let up since. This is going to be a winter to remember.”
“Oh, I would think they have noticed. No one stays out late anymore. The streets are bare and lifeless. One would think the entire region was on lockdown, but I think people have just become afraid to venture very far beyond their own front doors.” She shook her head slowly, quietly morning the loss of independence that she knew most of the locals must feel in regards to their situation. All they probably knew was that ever since that demonic tree had sprouted from the depths of hell and sucked the blood out of the unfortunate denizens of several city blocks, nothing had been the same. And it probably never would be again. Damage like that left a gaping wound, both physically and metaphysically. “Those of us who actually know what’s going on have seemingly done the same if this lockdown is anything to go by. Would you mind explaining the nature of it to me, dear?”
Hydrangea shrugged nebulously, yawning as she stretched and attempted to wake herself up. “Mom called for basic precautions about two weeks ago. Auntie Aluta said she had a bad feeling and that she suspected that something ominous might happen. And then there was a fire at a convenience store, and some of our scouts found evidence of dark corruptive magic on a scale that hasn’t been seen in a long time.” She shrugged again, clearly not really sure what else she could say about the matter. These were matters that she honestly didn’t know much about. After all, she didn’t help make those decisions. “Mom locked up the place tight after that, and then Auntie Aluta skipped town. Said she would be back sometime this week. Apparently, she has to check on something, or whatever. I don’t question her. Sometimes she has a hard time grounding herself in the present, what with her premonitions and all.”
Vergil shared a questioning glance with Dante before turning back towards the young girl, drinking the tea that they had been served. It was quite good, and barely anyone had spoken since it had been poured into their cups and the first sips had met their lips. “Does she leave town unannounced often due to these… premonitions?”
Dante nodded, admittedly curious as to what she had meant by that statement as well. Did Magnolia’s younger sister have truly strange powers, or was something more going on here that he just didn’t quite comprehend? He would be the first to admit that he didn’t actually know much about magic, or whatever the Ludwig family considered it. This was a learning experience for him, just as much as it was for most of the rest of them. Lucia seemed to be the only one in this situation who wasn’t totally out of the loop in regards to these sorts of matters. While she didn’t seem to fully understand what they were talking about, she was at least able to nod along and comprehend it. Either that, or she was a dab hand at faking it until she made it. Either way, she was leagues ahead of him in that regard.
“Yea, about that… can your aunt see the future or something? Is that, you know, a thing? Because I didn’t know you could do something like that. That’s news to me.” The youngest son of the Dark Knight Sparda said, gesturing to emphasize his surprise. If that was possible, then he wanted to know if it was something you could learn, or a gift you had to be born with. It couldn’t be all that common, or he would have heard about it by now. What an interesting revelation.
The young woman looked skeptical in regards to her ability to answer that question. “You’re probably not going to believe me, but I never really questioned how she was able to do that. I heard she came in contact with some statue or something, and she just sort of developed the ability to sense when things just weren’t right. They were called the Beast Heads or something like that. Can’t be sure. I was probably five when that happened, si it was almost a lifetime ago. My mom was there, so you should probably ask her. If you really want to know more about it. Honestly, she probably doesn’t know too much about it either. Auntie Aluta can’t really control it. It just sort of happens every now and then.”
Dante cringed internally. Great. Things just got better and better.
It was Nero’s turn to interject. He had been sitting next to V this entire time, quietly awaiting the moment when something would be said that would actually pique his interest, and this was it. He could sympathize with having gifts thrust upon you that you never would have asked for in your wildest dreams. What she was going through sounded hellish to him. What on earth did she see or sense? He’d like to ask her, if he ever got the chance. There was no way of knowing if they would still be over here when she returned from whatever she was doing.
Little did Nero know that V shared much the same opinion in regards to this revelation as he did. The older of the two had been quietly listening to them as he indulged himself, enjoying the tea and opting to only speak up if he thought he had something useful to add to the discussion. Unfortunately, he only had questions, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t still contribute something. None of them had thought to mention what had happened inside of Belial’s illusion to her. If her family was concerned with the attack that he had orchestrated that had resulted in that store being burned down in the first place, then it might be a good idea to explain to her what had happened. For all he knew, she might be able to put his mind at ease.
“We happened to be inside of that anomaly when it occurred. It was certainly dark.” V said as he calmly gestured towards Sirrus. The man with the red hair had seemingly checked out of the conversation and seemed to be nearly ready to doze off. Much like himself, his wounds had healed quickly, but he couldn’t say much in regards to his energy levels. He had remained somewhat drained, but Sirrus seemed to be able to manage a little bit better than him, despite the severity of his injuries. It was hard to say what he was going through, but if he was falling back asleep this early in the morning, then V was willing to bet that they were largely in the same boat. “I have no idea how the attack was orchestrated, but I believe I was the target of its creator. Of that, I have very little doubt. Belial was very clear about that fact.”
Hydrangea gaped, clearly recognizing that name. She looked between V and Sirrus, a look somewhere between wonderment and concern spreading across her face. It seemed that that wasn’t a consideration that they had taken into mind. Belial might not have even been on their radar. V remembered Sirrus saying that his organization had been keeping tabs on the Devil Prince’s activities, but that didn’t mean that that organization had to be his relatives. Sirrus was here because of work, even if they didn’t understand that work. Magnolia had asked for his assistance, and he had made it work equally within the constraints of both parties. That didn’t mean that V necessarily knew who the other party involved was, or that he needed to. So long as Sirrus was on their side and was trying his best to help them, that was all he truly cared about.
“You lost a fight to Belial? Wow Siri, I thought you were tougher than that.” Hydrangea leaned over and punched him in the shoulder, giggling frantically as she took the opportunity to shame him and everything he stood for. This wasn’t a regular occurrence that she could normally capitalize on. Sirrus was usually very difficult to take down in a fight. “Why didn’t you just do that thing? You know, that one thing? I can’t remember what it’s called. You're really good at it, though.”
“First of all, I’ve only done that once. It’s very dangerous, and I probably would have caused far too much damage to the integrity of the illusion for it to be a feasible option.” Sirrus said, shaking his head and leaning over to playfully point at her. There was a note of seriousness to his tone, but he was still trying to keep things civil and lighthearted, and it showed. But then something changed in his eyes, a certain mournful pain glittering in them for a moment as he swallowed and glanced over at V. “Power like that has a terrible cost. I could only bring myself to do something like that if I was the only one in danger. When you wield weapons of that magnitude, you have to consider the lives of those who walked into that fight with you. You have a responsibility to make sure they see their families again. Victory at the cost of everything is not victory, it’s egotistical and an example of hubris in its purest state. A war of attrition is preferable to a pyrrhic victory.”
Pausing for a moment to consider her relative’s words, she seemed to allow them to really sink in. She then nodded, looking over towards V and then back towards Sirrus. “Is it a victory if you never live to see it, either? I agree with you… but in situations like that, is there ever a way to truly win? Because it doesn’t seem like it.”
Sirrus nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. He then shared a final look at V before turning away. “Sometimes your lucky enough to share the battlefield with someone who has integrity. It’s especially rare when it’s not a battle that you willingly walk into, but I believe that is when one truly demonstrates their true upper limits of character. It’s about what you do when you think no one will be able to judge you for your actions that truly matters, and that is when you glean the true worth of another. I was simply fortunate to be stuck in an unfortunate situation with the kind of person who understood that.”
The room fell quiet for a moment as V took in Sirrus’s statement in silence, unsure as to what to say to something like that. While Everyone present seemed to grasp the bare essentials of Sirrus’s ethos statement, he was the only one present who truly understood what the other man was talking about. This was about more than the battle that they had not been able to fight. He understood that now. This was about the moment when he had made the decision not to turn tail and leave Sirrus for dead. After all, he was right. He would not have been able to pass judgment on him for something so basic as not wanting to die. But the fact that he had been willing to intervene and risk everything in spite of that meant a greater deal to the Adjudicator with the long red hair than he realized, and in turn, that meant something to him that he couldn’t quite put into words.
Griffon suddenly manifested a moment later, perching himself on the back of the couch as he cackled mischievously at V’s silence. The young summoner blinked slowly, giving his trusted companion a knowing look and a disapproving head shake. There were far too many people in this room for him to even consider allowing the dastardly little troublemaker to do what he knew he probably planned to do. “Don’t you dare start.”
Unable to help himself, Griffon’s laughter picked up and became more noticeable, drawing eyes from throughout the room. “Don’t what? Point out the fact that you have the communication skills of a smirred love letter to an unrequited lover? Or is that too topical, V?” The bird’s eyes darted across the room, lingering on Lucia for a moment before they returned to V. Thankfully she couldn’t see him do that from the angle that she was sitting at. “What, too soon? Look, just take the compliment! It won’t kill ya, will it? Or are you allergic to being proud of yourself?”
Shadow manifested a moment later, swatting Griffon away as he darted out of her reach and onto the top of one of the bookcases. The large panther then walked around the couch and plopped down on the ground, allowing her head to rest against V’s ungrateful legs. He wouldn’t complain though. She had just saved his hide. She had earned head scratches for that timely rescue. He had been too mortified to react, and she seemed to sense that. He had to appreciate that about Shadow. The demonic housecat was always there for him when it truly counted, even if she couldn’t say anything. And she made a good pillow, all things considered. Truly a versatile companion.
Just then, the sound of heels clicking echoed down the hallway as a woman in a long blue dress rounded the corner and, upon seeing the room full of people, stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes seemed to linger on her older sister, a sort of festering white-hot furry threatening to bubble over as she attempted to compose herself. This had to be Willow. The resemblance between her and Magnolia was uncanny, almost startlingly close, in fact. At least as far as appearances went.
Before anyone present could say anything, Willow looked over across the room and went from frustrated and seemingly livid at her older sister’s presence, too flabbergasted and flustered. Practically every set of eyes in the room traveled to her and then from there, to the object of her attention. And when they realized what she was looking at, confusion and surprise set in in equal measure. Was she actually looking at…
“Well, one of us is going to have to change, and it isn’t going to me, Vergil. By the gods, do you age? What’s it been, twenty-five years?” She folded her arms, an amused smirk spreading across her face into an actual full-blown smile as he allowed her arm to fall and rest at her sides. As much as she was trying to hide it, she was thrilled to death to see the Darkslayer, and it wasn’t a reaction that he or anyone else in the room was accustomed to receiving when he met a long-lost acquaintance. “I’d hug you, but I enjoy having two arms. I’m sure you’d be just as liable to remove them from my body as you were back when we were teenagers! Some things never change. I don’t even need to consider my chances.”
“Twenty-three years, five months, and one week. Not that I was counting.” Vergil said in a tone so deadpan that it was hard to tell if he was being disingenuous or actually had counted the precise days. Either way, it elicited a humored giggle from the tall woman in the trailing blue dress. Her gray and brown-streaked hair trailed down her back and fell in curtains around her shoulders as she brushed it out of the way and looked over at Dante, a surprised look crossing her face. “Oh, and you finally brought your twin brother to visit us like you said you would. And here I thought you were lying.”
Dante looked between his twin brother and the tall woman in abject shock and confusion, sure that he wasn’t the only one in the room who had picked up on the change in atmosphere around them. There was no way that Vergil hadn’t noticed it, even though he seemed to be doing his level best to neither acknowledge it nor contribute to it. This reunion was surely the only thing keeping peace in the room, a fact that was supported by the uncomfortable look that Willow and Magnolia shared a moment later, clearly uncomfortable with being in the presence of one another.
“I was, Willow. This is just happenstance.” Vergil said in a slightly more accommodating tone, sensing the growing hostility between the two sisters. “Speaking of things that didn’t change… My eldest has found himself in something of a predicament, and as such, we came to seek your expertise. My brother is rarely up this early otherwise.”
The Youngest Son of Sparda shrugged in reluctant agreement. Vergil wasn’t wrong, but he also didn’t appreciate him negatively contributing to the possibility of this frankly drop-dead gorgeous woman ever speaking to him. But surely if she tolerated Vergil, she could at least allow him a moment of her time once things calmed down a little. Oh, who was he kidding? He had rotten luck with beautiful ladies. It was only a matter of time before she impaled him with something, shot him, or ran him over. Maybe he should just quit while he was ahead…
“Honest as ever, old friend. And even less funny. Oh, how I’ve missed our talks.” The smile returned as she shook her head, genuine amusement present in her face as she glanced over at Nero and V. A soft smile spread across her face. She didn’t need to ask if they were his. She just knew. Especially Nero. The resemblance was uncanny. “So then… how can I help you?”
(-~-)
Well, this was a fun chapter to write! Books are in the mail! Supposedly they will take two weeks to get here, so I’ll update you when they arrive. Wasn’t willing to pay $28 for faster shipping. That’s insane. Can’t wait to read your comments on this one!
#Hiraeth#V#Vitale#My Post Devil May Cry 5 AU#Post Devil May Cry 5#Nero#Nico#Lucia#Dante#Vergil#Magnolia#Sirrus#My OCs#DMC
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Hitmen AU! | Head Canons | 19+ [Haikyuu!!]
KΛЯΛƧЦПӨ [PART i] [PART ii] [PART iii]
Here is the last part for the Karasuno head canons~! I hope you guys enjoy these~! Expect some drabbles or one shots or even other specific head canons~!
The next team I’ll be setting up for is Nekoma~!
Again, feel free to ask questions or request anything from this AU! (Specify so I know~!)
» » Admin Ko
»»————- ♔ ————-««
T̷o̷b̷i̷o̷ ̷K̷a̷g̷e̷y̷a̷m̷a̷
One of the gifted snipers on the team
or well, that’s what Tsukishima likes to say
is actually one of the all rounders in the group, but is usually hired for quick assassinations
usually paired off with Hinata which begins and ends with bickering, but holy shit do they get the job done
honestly has one of the more terrifying attitudes in the group when it comes to perfecting his skill
is usually sparring or at a shooting range to get the cleanest shot
whenever he can he’ll take classes on human anatomy and human behavior to better predict his targets and what they’ll do
accidentally shot his mentor’s ear (luckily it only really grazed the area so he has a scar now)
has a tsundere sort of attitude after warming up to his fellow teammates
is the one who’s out most of the time due to the high demand in quick assassinations.
“Target in sight. Decoy ready when you are.”
The sharp tone in his voice left no room for mistakes as the lean male adjusted his position slightly.
Icy blue eyes focusing in on the figure behind the glass as he shifted the sniper in his hand to a better angle. Letting out a slow and even sigh, the young male positioned his fingers on the trigger. His eyes never leaving the scope as he watched the target interact with their Decoy. Observing the attitude and mannerisms of the target he adjusted himself once more.
It was better to be precise with this one, after all it was their initiation assignment and the male refused to be denied by another team.
When he saw the signal from the orange haired Decoy, the figure didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger as he waited with baited breath until the target’s body fell into an ungraceful heap on the floor. A sinister grin on his features as he finally relaxed before relaying the information to base.
“Target neutralized.”
Out of all of the rookies, he is the second tallest
built sturdy yet lean. Not too buff, not too undertone, but just right
Frequents the gym as much as he can and spars with Hinata every other two hours
has at least 3 tattoos on his body
likes to keep his hair either side swept or slicked back during missions (no obstructions in his eyes when he shoots) but normally has it down when around the base
likes to wear anything protective yet skin tight to keep him from being hindered in any way at making a clean kill
is emotionally constipated
his s/o is confused the first time he confesses but comes to adore it
comes off as an ice prince but just doesn’t know how to give good affection
was scolded by Sugawara and Daichi for trying to ‘get rid’ of someone who was annoying s/o
is an awkward baby with affection but oml when he’s stressed and needs some relief just-- oof
S̴h̴o̴y̴o̴ ̴H̴i̴n̴a̴t̴a̴
Bright and energetic, one of the more unexpected members to join their group
tried to be a sniper and almost ended up killing Kageyama
it’s no surprise he’s banned from using guns after this
is a master in jumping the target or any sort of kidnap or capture assignments
was hesitant on becoming a decoy, but once paired with Kageyama for their initiation mission he fell in l o v e with it
is kinda psychotic
he loves the thrill of seeing a target so badly corrupted crumbling dead at his feet
is surprisingly a smooth talker
loves to spar and learn new skills so he takes up behind Noya to learn as many skills as he can and to be useful in any situation
Like Sugawara, he prefers using knives or daggers in close combat fights
“Is that so? Well hey! I know a better area where we can discuss that deal of yours.” Suave and friendly, the ginger began leading the target towards the area he and Kageyama had agreed on.
The immaculate suit he wore hugged his body nicely as he ran a hand through his unruly hair as he played out the various possibilities that could occur in his head. Though of course snapped out of it as he placed his facade on as he walked with the target. Easily flowing with the conversation despite the heavy desire to gut the corrupted individual before him.
“I see, I see. That truly does sound incredible...” He began walking over to the window as he watched the target follow in the reflection before sighing.
“Though I can’t really say I agree completely with your ideas. That is-- I can’t agree with them until you're nothing but a corpse at my feet.” He stated coolly, hazel eyes glowing with malice as an unsettling look graced his features.
Before the tainted figure could even retaliate, the sharp sound of wind cut through the air as a bullet sat neatly in the center of the man’s head.
“Pity we couldn’t talk more, but I really want to get a more interesting mission you see?”
the second shortest among the male members
is a thiccq boi with broad shoulders
is very toned too and scarily strong
tried to arm wrestle with Kageyama, and surprisingly ended it as a tie
undercut ginger boi
has a couple of piercings on his ears and a nice handful of tattoos painting his body
is an absolute sunshine with his s/o
rarely ever gets mad at his s/o, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get frustrated
likes to pick up his s/o to combine their heights to be tall
he learned that from Noya
his s/o always gets embarrassed when he demands to combine their heights to be tall
loves to listen to s/o’s heartbeat when they sleep
K̷e̷i̷ ̷T̷s̷u̷k̷i̷s̷h̷i̷m̷a̷
2/2 of the brain and tactics hub
a sarcastic and blunt boi who absolutely hates incompetent people
very smart and clever
hella observant as well and makes his moves accordingly
avoids Noya whenever he can, but usually ends up caught in some sort of experiment with his senior
immensely loves to psychologically torture their targets that are brought to base
is the “good” cop to Noya’s “bad” cop during interrogations
loves to pick apart at people’s brains and their mental stability
Definitely mocks the other rookies whenever he can
“Haa? So this is my initiation?” A blank look crossed the blond’s features as he adjusted his glasses before a wicked smirk settled on his lips. The slow psychological torture he could do, and learn from had excitement flood his veins as he sat before the man.
A wave of his hand dismissed the two other daunting figures in the room as he took a once over of the person before him.
“A week huh? I suppose that gives me enough time to peel back the layers of that pile of mush you call a brain.” He stated as he casually shrugged his shoulders before golden irises bore deeply into the figure before him.
“I suppose we should start now with keeping you awake for as long as your pea-sized brain can handle.”
Is the tallest out of the rookies
loves to use it to his advantage to mock Hinata 25/8
Has a lean yet toned body, but has more of a physique similar to Sugawara’s
long messy blond locks always be in the bed head state
has one tattoo and a a couple of piercings
is an absolute ass to his s/o, but makes up for it with cute small affectionate gestures
is emotional constipated baby number 2
is able to read their s/o well, but doesn’t dwell on it too much as he doesn’t want to be too invasive
can immediately tell when their s/o is off or something is bothering them
will immediately tell them that he has no problems quelling the problem that is bothering them with a eerily placed smile
T̴a̴d̴a̴s̴h̴i̴ ̴Y̴a̴m̴a̴g̴u̴c̴h̴i̴
A soft baby, another unexpected addition to the rookies
has a similar energy to Hinata, but just a lot more tamer in retrospect
is usually with Ennoshita gathering information as well as learning tips and tricks on the cyber aspect of their work
takes the time to learn coding as well as researching other defense mechanisms that can help keep wandering eyes off of their business
usually seen with Tsukishima in the base’s library
on occasion will be dragged to do sparring with the other rookies
is the defense and attack on their cyber end alongside Ennoshita
Stretching his back, the figure let out a pleased sigh as he felt his body relax from the tension built as he sat hunched over the multiple computers around him. His eyes briefly skimming over the orders requested and the many attempts at trying to pry into their servers.
Grasping the cooled mug of coffee, he took a sip as he couldn’t help but let out an irritated sigh as another attempt to breach their firewalls had been commenced. Without a second wasted, he began typing and tapping away with one hand as he took another sip of his coffee before fully immersing himself in not only humiliating the hacker, but exposing them to the rest of the deep dark web with absolutely no hesitation.
His senior glancing over with a hum of approval before resuming his own work as the young male couldn’t help but smile and feel giddy at the delight of approval from his senior.
Is the third tallest member in the rookie squad
out of all the male rookies, he is the scrawniest
but still has enough mass and muscle definition to defend himself if he were to be attacked alone
again, is dragged to spar with the other rookies often
long medium length hair that is usually pulled back into a half man bun / half pony tail
has one tattoo on his back
is an absolute sweetheart with his s/o
unfortunately doesn’t get the most time with his s/o due to the constant cyber attacks
but when he is lucky enough for a vacation week he pours all his pent up stress and affections towards them
loves to just stay in and cuddle with his s/o
H̷i̷t̷o̷k̷a̷ ̷Y̷a̷c̷h̷i̷
The decoy that never was
Initially, when she joined she had tried to be a decoy like Hinata and Kiyoko, but ended up not doing too well in that
though to everyone’s surprise her skill isn’t in decoy, but quick draw gun work
she works alongside Kageyama and trains in utilizing her skills and honing in on her shots
is usually the back up in case a target manages to get out into the open
never uses more than 3 shots to take down a target
is the most awkward and soft spoken in their group, but is just as happy and energetic as Hinata
“Yachi-san! The target is turning onto your street!”
The aggravated voice of her teammate rang in her ears as she winced slightly before pulling out a pistol with ease. Her honey brown eyes skimming the area for any abnormal figures as she let the bickering between her two other teammates drown out into nothingness.
A slow and steady breath escaped her as she slipped into the dim alleyway as she heard the scuffling and ragged breathing of a large figure stumbling down the empty streets. With practiced ease, she took aim. Her eyes turning stone cold as she shot once into the target’s leg.
A stumble and he was on a knee. The second shot struck his shoulder as he suddenly fell forward and the young gun slinger stepped out from the shadows as she walked towards the soon to be corpse as she tuned back into the conversation between her teammates.
“Target found. Target neutralized.”
Despite being the shortest member of the rookies she can pack quite the punch
is well toned and lean
Mid-length blond hair that’s usually put in a messy bun or a high pony tail
like the others, she has at least 2 tattoos scattered over her body
tends to lean towards form fitting clothes like Kageyama for ease of access and speed to engage and neutralize a target
she is immensely doting on her s/o
loves to smother her s/o in kisses and affection while doing the most normal things she can before going to work
likes to watch movies and thread her fingers through s/o’s hair whenever they have a stay in door date
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu au#hitmen au#karasuno#haikyuu!!#tobio kageyama x reader#shoyo hinata x reader#kei tsukishima x reader#tadashi yamaguchi x reader#hitoka yachi x reader#reader insert#alternate universe#kageyama tobio#hinata shoyo#tsukishima kei#yamaguchi tadashi#yachi hitoka#kageyama x reader#hi#tsukishima x reader#yamaguchi x reader#yachi x reader
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Helen of Sparta,
the first femme fatale
From Greek Mythology
I. BASIC STATS
i. OTHER NAMES: Helen of Troy (known as; doesn’t answer to it); Helena
ii. MAIN PERIOD: Circa 13 000 BC
iii. PLACE OF RESIDENCE: Sparta, Greece. In threads, Helen’s motherland may be referred to by other names such as Lacedaemon (the city-state), Laconia (the region) or, less frequently, Peloponnese (the peninsula). Helen has also resided in Troy (also called Illium) and briefly in Aphidnae for a time in her youth.
iv. OCCUPATION(s): Queen of Sparta (heir); priestess, seer
v. RELIGION: Hellenic polytheist
vi. TERMS OF ADDRESS: “my queen”
vii. MUSE LEVEL: Main muse
viii. CONNECTIONS: Leda (mother); Hermione (daughter); Zeus (father); Tyndareus (adoptive father); Menelaus (husband); Paris (husband); Deiphobus (husband); Castor and Pollux (twin brothers), Clytemnestra (sister) & more.
II. PERSONALITY
LIKE ANY OTHER SPARTAN, Helen is succinct, self-disciplined and loyal to the motherland its laws. She is austere, determined and arrogant, but seductive despite that. Her posture is always mighty and regal. She speaks with authority and confidence, demands rather than asks, expresses dominance through her body language – haughty and open-chested – and has a tendency to invade other people’s personal spaces by touching them or their personal items.
Helen values strength, loyalty, cleverness and endurance, to the same extent that she despises its opposites.
III. MUSE-SPECIFIC POTENTIAL TRIGGERS
There may be mentions of rape, but no graphic scenes depicting it. Graphic violence can often occur and, considering the character’s cultural background, Helen might have a desensitized point of view when experiencing, witnessing or causing it. Infidelity, unhealthy mother-daughter relationships, animal sacrifices, consumption of alcohol and natural hallucinogens will come up occasionally.
IV. SKILLS AND ABILITIES
Spiritual powers associated with Aphrodite’s domains, such as: beauty (the power to give it or take it away), fertility (the power enable conception for people who have trouble procreating, or to take away that ability from those who had it; the power to turn barren land into fertile soil or the other way around), sexuality (the power to provoke sexual desire; the power to cure sexual impotence or inflict someone with it) and love (the power to imitate traits of people that the target loves; voices, appearance, mannerisms).
The abilities of a seer, such as to read bird-signs, combined with a deepened perception about the ministrations of the Gods upon their lives, as well as an accurate assessment of human fate through clairvoyance.
An extreme capacity for recognition that enables her to see through disguises and tricks, even when they come from the gods.
Mortal abilities include wrestling, hunting, music, javelin-throwing, negotiation, strategic thinking, social intelligence, leadership, extreme physical endurance, dancing and horse riding.
V. INTERPRETATIONS/CANON DIVERGENT POINTS
There is no real canon to Greek Mythology, so instead I’ll just say that this Helen is the opposite of how you may have seen her on modern media. My Helen is not an oppressed and unwilling wife to Menelaus – quite the contrary. She did not choose to leave Sparta on a whim – it was her fate. Although there were people on the Trojan side that she did come to care about, Helen was always #TeamGreeks because that’s where the Spartans were fighting and she will never side against Sparta.
VI. MUSE-SPECIFIC GUIDELINES
ONE. Writing about your muse’s perception about Helen with lines like, “she did not look godborn” or “her famed beauty was not all that much” kind of defeats the purpose of Helen. It’s the same as if I would take the most conspicuous and defining trait of your character and deny that through my muses point of view. Please don’t.
TWO. Helen is a character that naturally flirts and uses sexuality as a weapon. Think of her as Aphrodite’s half-mortal surrogate. When it occurs, don’t interpret that as an attempt from me to guide the thread towards smut or romance if we haven’t discussed this possibility ooc. It’s a character trait.
VII. INTERACTIONS & BUILDING RELATIONSHIPS
Helen is a queen before she is a friend. She evaluates other people through the eyes of a ruler, dividing them between allies and rivals. Her priority is always her duty and she is willing to sacrifice personal relationships in order to achieve her goals. This is not going to change for your character, I should say in advance. On the other hand, if she has your loyalty, you will have hers. Like Zeus, Helen is ruthless, but just.
Possible dynamics include, but are not limited to: muses with political/financial/military powers establishing an alliance or partnership with Helen; muses with good fighting skills in her employment; muses seeking assistance through Helen’s spiritual powers, blood feuds, Helen being captive to your muse or the other way around, our muses at opposing sides of a war or conducting it as allies, etcetera.
VIII. SHIPPING
Because she is a pragmatist and a stoic, it’s rather unlikely to place Helen in a kind of “love conquers all” kind of ship. On the other hand, she easily has chemistry with most characters. Relationships tend to be passionate and carnal, but casual and with little to no emotional attachment. She is attracted to physical prowess.
Meaningful relationships are possible but harder to build. The ideal profile for Helen is someone who is strong, gritty and thrilling, but though she is attracted to dominance, she will end up being the most dominant one or else the relationship will hardly work. In any case, Helen is not monogamous and she will not change for any muse.
Possible dynamics include, but are not limited to: arranged marriages, extramarital affairs, enemies to lovers, etcetera.
IX. TAGS
General tag. Answered asks. Threads. Visage. Musings. Tunes.
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