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asterigos · 1 year

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GENERAL INFORMATION

► FULL NAME: Valdis Almazan Solveig (Nasrin Almazan; given name) ► NICKNAMES: Val ► GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Woman (She/Her) ► AGE: 38 ► BIRTHDAY: November 21 ► SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Homosexual ► OCCUPATION: Homicide Detective / Bodyguard / Hitman (potentially)

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

► RELIGION: Agnostic ► EDUCATION LEVEL: B.A. in Criminal Justice ► ECONOMIC STATUS: Middle-Class ► SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English (fluent), Persian/Farsi (fluent), Spanish (intermediate)

PERSONALITY

► JUNG TYPE: INFJ ► ENNEAGRAM: Type 6w5 ► MORAL ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good ► TEMPERAMENT: Melancholic ► QUALITIES: Intuitive, Faithful, Observant, Reliable, Resolute ► FLAWS: Cynical, Guarded, Sarcastic, Stubborn, Solitary

BESTIARY

► SPECIES: Werewolf ► POWERS: Wolf transformation (at will), Enhanced senses (hearing, smell, strength) ► WEAKNESSES: Silver

APPEARANCE

► FACE CLAIM: Sarah Shahi ► HEIGHT: 5’3” ► EYE COLOR: Brunette ► HAIR COLOR: Dark Brunette ► TATTOOS: None ► SCARS: Various (hands and torso), Jagged scar across left collarbone (~4 inches) ► PIERCINGS: Left earlobe (one), Right earlobe (two)

BIOGRAPHY

Trigger Warning(s): Live experimentation

Valdis, born as Nasrin Almazan, was born in a small village in Iran to a pair of strict parents, and was the youngest of three with two older brothers. Being the only girl her parents believed themselves, while not entirely fortunate, lucky enough that they still had two sons out of three children. Because they maintained and believed in the traditional gender roles of men and women, they paid more attention to and invested more time and money into Valdis’ brothers while trying to teach Valdis the values and mannerisms that were expected of her to adopt because she was a girl. Valdis resented how they spoke of and treated her as a burden to them and like cattle to be sold off when she was old enough for the benefit of the family.

Their family wasn’t one of prominence within the pack of werewolves they belonged to nor in society as a whole. Her father, Amir, was a carpenter and her mother, Leila, a seamstress, so it often fell on Valdis’ mother and other seamstresses within the pack to maintain the upkeep of their clothing. The only thing her parents allowed her to do that, had they been a human family would not have permitted, was for Valdis and her brothers received training both in combat and control over their wolf forms by members of the pack who specialized in such fields and had experience in the military in the past. Training took up her weekends, which meant Valdis never had much time to get to know her human peers in school well or form any strong connections with them. It led to Valdis sticking to most of her friends being from within the pack, but she did secretly wish to know more about her fellow human students. The fear and knowledge of what some humans did to werewolves when they discovered their identity as such was enough to keep Valdis from revealing what she was to her peers, however.

Now and again members of the pack would disappear and though all the children were told that they chose to leave the pack to live new lives somewhere else or died from illness or old age, Valdis did some snooping around and discovered that some of those members had in fact been captured. When she confronted her parents about her newfound knowledge they reprimanded her and made her swear to never speak of what she had learned, but confirmed that it was all true: captured members were taken by the humans and used as lab rats for experimentation in the name of learning more about their kind. Such acts of violence and dehumanization weren’t approved of by the government on paper, but little to nothing was done to prevent it from happening on their part.

One night during her adolescent years, she overheard her parents discussing what would become of her future as well as how they considered trying to marry her off. She didn’t fully comprehend what that meant other than she would be bound to someone she didn’t know and wouldn’t like. That was enough of an understanding for Valdis to know she didn’t want to have any part of her life dictated to her that she didn’t agree to. She thought if she was able to achieve equally as good if not better grades in school and training than her brothers she could both persuade her parents not to follow through with their plan to find a future partner for her and to prove her worth to them as an individual so that they wouldn’t perceive her only as a girl who would never be of any use to them. Her endeavors, despite her numerous academic achievements including her excellence in English, and her ability of now having full control over when she transformed into a wolf, were only acknowledged with a comment about how her success was sufficient and to be expected of her when her brothers were also academically proficient and had promising futures in the careers they would soon work towards when they went on to college. Their inability to fully control their shifting from humans to wolves was dismissed by their other talents, much to Valdis’ frustration. Without any influence within the pack or any aid from friends to enact a plan of how to gain her independence, of which she had none that were well thought out anyhow, Valdis bided her time and focused on school and the few friendships she had while she did her best to work out an idea of how to make her escape. In the end there was no need for any elaborate plan as a group of hunters had been keeping silent tabs on the pack of werewolves with the help of a mole. One night they struck with teargas, smoke bombs, and guns loaded with silver bullets. Caught by surprise the werewolves were uncoordinated and while some stood their ground and fought back others scattered with Valdis’ family among them using the chaos that ensued as cover.

Valdis was separated from her parents and brothers as they all ran, yet rather than panic and try to search for them, she took it as her opportunity to leave them and start her own life. She traveled until she was far away from Iran and her past life, coming to rest first in Europe. She changed her name to Valdis Solveig, something that would be more akin to the names of that location and wouldn’t make her stand out too much. For the next few years that followed, Valdis remained as a rouge werewolf and drifted from one town to the next, sometimes even moving to different countries for more distance, always keeping her head low and did her best to bring as little attention to herself as possible. She was more successful at this in some towns more than others where, in the latter, she utilized all the self-restraint she could to not turn into a wolf and tear apart her attackers but rather fight them as a human. Weary from being on the move constantly, Valdis moved once more and eventually settled down though never let down her guard. Her survival instincts and knowledge were of use to her her as far as she had come thus far, but she needed a steady flow of income in order to maintain her life in human society. Thus putting her skills of strength, smell, and combat to use she began to work for the police department, working her way up from an officer to homicide detective both to help maintain order in society and help those who needed it, but also to have access to other civilians in the area and know who possessed supernatural abilities and who didn’t. While her natural abilities that she possessed thanks to being a werewolf, she always felt conflicted about what she was as while as many advantages as it had given her it had also caused her a lot of hardships. The trauma she sustained from the incident with the hunters in her past was the biggest cause for her frustration with what she was and, sometimes, made her wish she were human instead. Although she never loved her career it gave her purpose in life and she was happy to help those who needed her aid, but there were times where she questioned if she were truly on the “right” side or if she were causing more harm than good.

RELATIONSHIPS

► MOTHER: Leila (née Sattari) Almazan (seamstress) ► FATHER: Amir Almazan (carpenter) ► SIBLINGS: Vahid Almazan (accountant; older brother), Yousef Almazan (librarian; older brother) ► OTHER: Severin Volke (criminal; ex-partner, frienemies)

MISC INFORMATION

► Hasn’t seen or spoken to her family since leaving them after their encounter with hunters, but sometimes wonders how they’re doing and hopes they’re okay. ► Despite being introverted and a having a mostly solitary life, she also likes socialization. She can only take so much it for so long before needing time away to recharge though. The longer she’s unable to escape a social situation when she wants to be alone again the agitated she gets. ► As wolves tend to be, Valdis has a strong sense of loyalty that remains steadfast to those she has given it to unless they give her a reason to doubt them. ► Although able to transform into wolf form at will, the urge to do so strengthens during a full moon. While she typically is able to, Valdis finds it more challenging to control herself as a wolf for the duration of the night when this happens and prefers to be alone. ► While the name Valdis was one that sounded more familiar to the people around her in past locations where she had lived, it often makes her stand out now. She decided against changing it again as she doesn’t like having to create a whole new identity and the paperwork that comes with it. Valdis kept her former surname and made it her middle name as a reminder of her family and where she came from. ► Frequently under stress though refuses to let this show, but because of this she’s prone to coming off as overly terse and sharp with others now and again. ► Despite the achievements she’s made throughout her life, what she focuses on most are her shortcomings and what she needs to improve on in regards to herself and her current capabilities; this has also caused her to become highly self-critical. ► Received the scar on her collarbone from a piece of bark that nicked her after being shot off the tree from a bullet that missed her while she was fleeing hunters.

#*character overview

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kairoot · 2 years

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[Make Time] j.yh ! ☹︎ ♡︎

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: some cursing

pairing: nonidol!Yunho x Cop!Reader

requested?: no.

probably some grammar and spelling errors lol.

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“I think that’s the last of it, Y/n.” Chan-woo said, removing his gloves. He threw them in the disposal and told the rest of the team to pack up. Nodding towards him, you continue putting the rest of the tools into your trunk. “Thanks, Detective. The team cleared the scene really well.” He smiled, nodding in agreement. You both talked for a little, until you realized it was later than what you thought it was. You quickly said your goodbyes and began to make your way home.

Parking your car in the driveway, you noticed someone else was home. You got out, locking up your car and walked up to your home’s door. The door was already unlocked, so the way you struggled to find your home key for about 2 minutes while standing out in 30 degree weather, was for nothing.

As you walked in, the warm atmosphere rushed to your face and the apple-cinnamon smell of your home filled your nostrils. Hearing nothing but the living room TV, you assumed that your daughter was fast asleep. So, you quietly took off your shoes and coat, putting them away. You walked upstairs, turning the corner to enter your daughter’s room. Peeking through the crack of the door, you saw the lights were out and she was in fact, out like one. You smiled to yourself, but quickly frowning as you realized you were too late, again.

“Late again, I see.” Yunho said from behind you. Closing Yeojin’s door, you turn to face him. “It was another long case, what was I supposed to do?” He shook his head, “Oh, I don’t know. Be there for our daughter? How many more times are you going to let her down, Y/n?”

“Don’t you think I know this already, Yunho? I know I let her down, and I don’t want to, but I have a job..” You were cut off by a small voice. “Mom?”

You turned around, looking down to see Yeojin rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. You crouched down to her height and rubbed her cheek with your thumb, “Yeojin.. I’m so sorry. Mommy had another case to handle, and it was longer than expected. I’m so sorry.” Yeojin looked at your face, noticing the tears that poured out of your eyes when you spoke. “It’s okay, I know your job is important.” She smiled. Chuckling, you shook your head, “You’re way more important to me. I don’t want to keep letting you down, y’know.”

Yunho looked at the scene in front of him, and almost slipped a tear or two himself. “Yeojin, I think you should go back to bed. You and Mommy will talk tomorrow.” He spoke. She nodded, saying goodnight to her parents and headed back to her room. Turning back to Yunho, you began to say something but your tears cut you off. He pulled you into a tight hug, patting your head. “I know you’re going through a tough time with work.. but I just want Yeojin to know that you aren’t avoiding her.. and I want us to.. make time for eachother, as well. This break isn’t working for me, Y/n. I miss you, too.” Yunho sighed, letting the confession slip from his mouth. His embrace slowly became tighter as he walked you both to the shared bedroom.

Sitting on the bed, you waited for Yunho, who was setting up your bath. He wanted to take care of you after all your stress with work and with your separation. He walked you to the bathroom, where you stripped from your clothes and dipped your toes into the hot water. Settling down in the tub, you sighed. It felt good to relax for once and not be around crime scenes 24/7. You loved your job, but as a homicide detective, work could get overbearing. You missed being with the two people you loved the most. Missed being able to take special night walks with your husband and cute ice cream dates with your daughter. Now, all of it was gone because of one little dream.

Interrupting your thoughts, you felt the water ripple, indicating that Yunho had stepped in. He took a seat behind you, your back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, planting little kisses against your temple. The smell of lavender and jasmine filled the bathroom. Yunho grabbed one of the glasses he brought into the bathroom and filled it up with your favorite wine. You took it from his hands, silently thanking him. “I think I wanna quit my job.” Your sudden words taking Yunho by surprise. “You what? Honey, you worked far too hard to quit I—“ Cutting him off, you finished your thought. “Yeah, but I kind of want to be self employed, you know? I would have my own business, which could be very fun.. and I just miss my husband and angel.” Yunho smiled slightly. You really wanted to give up your job, your dream, just to be with your family. “If this is what you want to do, I’d say go for it. And if it means Yeojin and I get to see you more.. It would be more than fine with me.”

Smiling up at him, you leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. He smiled back, run his hands down your arm. Reaching over the tub, you grabbed your phone and opened the calling application. You clicked your boss’s name, waiting for an answer. “Hey, uh, Lieutenant? About that next case..”

A/N: i started this months ago and couldn’t remember what the plot was so i did something random for the ending lmao.

#ateez #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #detective reader #non idol au #dad ateez

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babbushka · 3 years

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Some of those prompts are so funny! Can you please write this one for Flip or a Kylo AU? It’s hilarious!

“I may be loves bitch but at least I’m man enough to admit it.”

A/N: This silly little something is completely inspired by chatting with my dear friend @safarigirlsp !

2k, Flip chugging his respect women juice aka being his wife's #1 fan (he's a lil confused but he's got the spirit) cw: lowkey 1970s misogyny

Flip’s about ready to bang his head on the fucking desk in front of him from frustration, when he hears it. Those magic words that somehow get him through the day, each and every day, when the hours drone on and on and on at the station, when he feels like he’s been there for six years instead of only six hours.

In the habit that he and Ron have built up ever since being desk neighbors in the narcotics unit’s special glass office, Ron has finally come around and saved him from sudden death by boredom, by slapping a hand on Flip’s shoulder and happily announcing, “Present for you in the lobby.”

“Shit it’s already lunch?” Perking up at once, Flip shoves himself away from his desk, sparing a glance to his watch and seeing that it was in fact noon. He doesn’t even bother to push his chair in as he weaves through the other desks in the office on his way to the door, stopping himself before practically bolting to ask, “Thanks Ron, you stickin’ around? She said she was bringing stuff over for us.”

Ron only nods, knowing that Flip wants to get to you as quickly as possible, and so he spares him the conversation so that the detective can do just that.

You’re beautiful, as you always are, in the lobby of the CSPD. Currently chatting away with one of the secretaries at the front desk, you’re dressed in that new outfit Flip likes so much, your hair done up all pretty and fashionable. Instantly, his day is made better just by your being here -- something that he’s grateful for, because his day had been pretty fucking trying up until this point.

“Hi honey!” You catch sight of him, face lighting up, and Flip can’t resist a smile when you’re so happy to see him like this.

His cowboy boots take him across the lobby and into your arms, and he’s immediately taking the weight of the basket that you’re carrying out of your hands, placing it gently on the floor so he can squeeze you tight with a hug and a kiss.

“Hey ketsl, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He pats your ass lovingly, before picking up the basket and leading you through the lobby back towards the rec room.

“Right back at you handsome, I hope you’re hungry, I brought you the biggest roast beef sandwich I could possibly make.” You wink at him, and like clockwork, his stomach growls, making him chuckle a little.

“You’re a fuckin’ miracle and a half, I’m starvin’ -- ”

Suddenly, you stop with a frown, looking through the little window of the door to the conference room as you pass by it.

“What’s going on in there?” You ask, pointing your thumb in the room’s direction, and Flip doesn’t know what you mean.

“Huh?”

“Is there a meeting that you’re missing?” You ask, and Flip frowns then, because he doesn’t think so anyway.

But save for Jimmy and Ron, it looks like the entire narcotics unit is crammed into the conference room, along with a handful of rookie cops, homicide detectives, janitors, and even some of the press. They’re all watching someone draw a big graph on the black board, the unmistakable sound of chalk squeaking punctuating the speaker’s passionate presentation.

“No, Chief would’ve said something...oh for fuck’s sake.” It takes Flip two seconds to recognize what’s on the chart, and immediately he’s shaking his head.

It’s a line graph, the Hot-Crazy Matrix, this new thing that’s got all the men in the country thinking they know everything about women. The gist is the hotter a woman is, the crazier she gets, and everything about it rubs Flip the wrong fuckin’ way, especially when he presses his ear against the door and listens in on what they’re actually saying.

“...If you find yourself in the Fun Zone, your main goal is to move out of the Fun Zone to a more permanent location.” “Now above the ‘crazy’ line, we have the Danger Zone. This is your redheads, your strippers, uh, anyone named Tiffany -- ”

“Hairdressers!” One of the men from the back of the room shouts.

“Yes, hairdressers, this is where your car gets keyed, your tires get slashed, and you wind up in jail. At this point you have to understand that this is not a static environment. This is a situation where you have got to use this matrix over time to develop some relatable data. At any moment in time, any woman that you have previously located on this chart can vanish, and reappear anywhere else on the chart.”

“Let me break this up really quick -- ” Flip reaches for the door with a dark scowl on his face, but you put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“No.” You look at him with wide, playful eyes, “No I think we should sit in on it, see what they say. Cause a little trouble.”

Flip loves the way you think, and with a sigh, he makes sure you stay behind him as you both slip through the door, unnoticed with how quiet you are. All eyes are on the blackboard as the speaker -- a greasy looking beat cop -- draws a line on the chart.

“Now, above an eight ‘hot’ and between a seven and a five ‘crazy’, this is your Wife Zone. When you meet this girl, you should consider a long term relationship. And if you find a woman who is below a five crazy, and above an eight hot, this is your Unicorn. We call them that because they do not exist. If you happen to find one, please uh let us know, we’d like to study it and try if we can, to replicate it.”

There’s a round of laughter from the crowd, and Flip can feel your hand tense in his own. He’s practically unable to hold himself back, when the cop finally sets down the chalk, dusts off his hands, and regards the room as someone else turns the lights back on.

“Anyone have any questions?” The cop asks, and Flip’s clearing his throat before he knows what he’s even doing.

“Yeah, hi.” Drawing all attention to him, Flip puts his hands on his hips, towers tall above all the other men in the room by at least three inches, and deadpans, “Have any of you actually spoken to a woman before? I mean, for longer than the two minutes it takes for them to reject you.”

That’s clearly not what the men in front of him were expecting, because they just blink, slackjawed like the morons they are.

“What?” The speaker asks, caught off guard.

Flip sighs, lights up a cigarette and crosses his arms over his chest, puffing out a big intimidating cloud of smoke.

“Show of hands, who here is married?” He waits, and predictably, no one comes forward. He knows this, because he knows all the married couples at the station. You make it a point to know them, anyway. “Okay then, well, who here has a girlfriend? Who here has ever had a girlfriend?”

Still no hands, and maybe Flip shouldn’t be surprised, the kind of men that believe this shit are the kind of men that either wind up alone or abusing poor women that they can manipulate into staying with them, and Flip doesn’t have the time or energy for it much longer.

“Interesting.” He muses, having made his point while the room murmurs amongst themselves.

One particularly stupid cop makes the mistake of trying to be a tough guy, some pipsqueak five-foot-four wannabe wrestler speaks up from near the front of the room, “We don’t need your condescending bullshit, okay, Zimmerman -- ”

“And women don’t need your bullshit charts splitting them into categories of fuckable or not, and yet here you are.” Flip cuts him off, and you feel a sense of pride blooming in your chest. Flip is a good boy, it’s why you married him after all.

“You’re only saying that because your wife is standing right next to you.” The cop tries to push his buttons, and maybe it’s because Flip hasn’t eaten yet, but anger itches up his spine, and soon the crowd is parting like the Red Sea, for Flip who is gunning straight for him.

“Oh yeah? How’d you think I got my wife you piece of shit? Because I promise it wasn’t by treating her like some shiny object to win.” Flip grabs the cop by the front of his uniform, and hoists him clean off the floor so that he can pull him up to eye level.

“Well then maybe you got lucky and married the only woman in Colorado Springs who isn’t a huge bitch.” The cop doesn’t know when to quit, does he?

“That’s not fucking true, my wife is a bitch and I love her for it.” Flip’s temper flares, and he’s about to raise his fist to punch this guy in the face, when he hears your voice from across the conference room where you’ve been watching with an amused smile.

“Flip, come on let’s go eat, lunch is getting cold.” You say, even though technically the sub sandwiches were supposed to be cold anyway. They don’t need to know that though.

Flip drops the schmuck, lets him fall to the floor with a thud, and walks towards your outstretched hand. Apparently that’s funny to the guy, because he slaps his knee and scoffs with a dry laugh.

“See? You’ve gone soft from love. Maybe we’re better off without it.” He tries to get the other guys to chime in, but they at least know what’s good for them, and instead just scratch the back of their necks, averting Flip’s gaze.

“I may be love’s bitch but at least I’m man enough to admit it.” Flip places his hand in yours, and you give his palm a tight reassuring squeeze. Looking down at you sweetly, he flicks the ash of his cigarette onto the floor and holds the door open for you leaving the conference room with a patronizing, “And at least I have a damn good woman to come home to. You losers enjoy your pity party.”

Finally in the rec room, you and Flip relax with Ron and Jimmy, your CSPD boys enjoying the big sub sandwiches you made and brought over. The little excursion in the conference room ate up only about fifteen minutes of Flip’s lunch hour, something that you and your husband are happy about. He’d be pissed off if he wasted any more time than that.

Everyone enjoyed the sandwiches and bottles of pop, most especially your Flip, who happily sat you down on his lap and wound his arms around you, feeling extra possessive.

“Out of curiosity, where in that chart would you put me?” You ask Flip, expecting him to take a couple moments to mentally weigh his options.

To your unamused surprise, Flip, Ron, and Jimmy all unanimously answer just about as soon as you’ve finished asking the damn question, not one of them even bothering to swallow their sandwich first before replying, “Danger Zone.”

“Hey!” You smack Flip’s chest with a scoff, and Ron and Jimmy immediately break out into laughter.

“You asked.” Jimmy points out with a shrug, just lucky that he’s out of your reach, lest he get smacked too. Ron also dips out of the way, but it’s only a moment later that Flip’s got his hold on you tighter, preventing you from swatting at your friends.

Flip holds you and kisses all over your cheek, his goatee tickling you as he presses his face against yours, nuzzling his nose against yours sweetly even though he’s basically just called you crazy.

“I married you anyway, didn’t I?” Flip’s big brown eyes try to sweeten the deal, and as much as you want to give him a hard time for being such a dork, you have to admit that it works.

“Thin ice, Zimmerman, thin ice.” You shake your head playfully, relaxing into Flip’s embrace a little as he settles you properly onto his lap again from where you were a wiggle worm, squirming away.

“You love me.” Flip smiles.

And despite it all you have to roll your eyes and grin because, “Yeah, I really do.”

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Tagging some Flip lovin’ friends! @mochabucky@sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions@direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux@kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow@babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks@materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000@rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings@groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless@angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975@cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen@caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #adam driver fanfic #adcu #flip zimmerman fanfic #flip zimmerman imagine #blackkklansman

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pollylynn · 3 years

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Title: Twenty-Twenty WC: 1300 Episode: Valkyrie (6 x 01)

She misses the obvious things, or the things that would have been obvious if leaving New York hadn’t been such a sudden, frenetic sprint. There’s the food, top to bottom, with a special emphasis on literally a dozen different versions of Chinese for the dozen-plus different types of Chinese she might crave on any given night. There’s Chinese here. Of course there’s Chinese. It’s not like this is some cow town eight miles from the interstate. But there isn’t her Chinese. There isn’t their Chinese, and she misses that.

There’s the pace of everything, a pace that the very matrix of her bones resonates to. She misses lights her, like, all the time. She gets caught flat-footed by turn arrows like she’s from some cow town eight miles off the interstate. But she just doesn’t have the rhythm of the place down yet.

She doesn’t know what to do with herself when she’s built far too much padding into her commute and she’s too early to make this, not quite early enough to accomplish that. And she has truly no idea what to do when, despite all the padding she’s built in, she still somehow ends up running terribly late because of a motorcade or the act-of-god-level traffic jams or a . . . plague of locusts or whatever on the silver line. In New York, she could navigate ten out of ten biblical plagues and still have time to hit Zabar’s for a bagel. Here, there are days when she’s hard-pressed to make sure her fly is zipped and she doesn’t have oatmeal dribbling down her chin before she rushes into the office.

She misses the water surrounding the island, rather than taking up residence in her hair, creating her own personal fog bank. She misses bodegas and proud ignorance of any world events that have the bad sense to take place outside the city. She misses feeling that she belongs—that she is, at all times, surrounded by her ballsy, foul-mouthed, head-down, take-no-shit people.

She misses him. God, in the minutes after he puts her trigger discipline to the test, every cell, every blood vessel, every hair follicle and nerve ending in her body sings out just how badly she has missed him. In fact, it takes quite a while before her body will shut up a little bit about how much she has missed him, not just in body. And when it does—more out of the sad limitations of the flesh than any actual desire to stop singing out, she finds she’s a little quiet around him.

Not that she’s ever been the talker in their relationship. But she finds that she is—not shy, exactly, just . . . quiet. It scares her at first. She thinks she’s fallen out of rhythm with him, that her leaving, them not working together, the last six weeks apart, have managed to shake loose the intense connection they’ve so long had with one another.

It’s not that, though. The next morning, strangely enough, shows her that it’s not that. They are companionable in the morning. They are easy with each other and there is a distinct possibility that he’s going to try to seduce her, she’s going to let him, and there will definitely be no time for a fly check before McCord rolls up to collect her. And flitting in and out of that is another kind of seduction. He makes annoying astute guesses about the what and where of her case. He is annoying convincing when he posits that they could work together, knock off the case by 10:00 AM, and have the rest of the weekend for themselves.

It’s lovely. It’s . . . renewing in ways she doesn’t have time to examine before McCord does come to collect her. But the realization is there. The epiphany is waiting patiently for her to have time for it. She doesn’t have time for it until that night—their second night and the last one they’ll get to have together for who knows how long.

She’s beyond quiet that second night. She is . . . weepy. It’s such an alien word, but it's apt. She doesn’t actually weep. She’s just . . . weepish, maybe, and she hates herself for ruining it. She hates herself for not being able to just embrace this—the joy of having him for one night, then two, for one companionable morning.

“I miss you.” She ends up hurling the words like an accusation as they sit on the end of her couch that isn’t littered with boxes, holding each other close. His chin bumps the top of her head. I miss you, too. She knows he’s about to say it back, and she’s frantic to get another word in edgewise. “No, I mean it. I miss you.” She struggles to pull back far enough that she can look him in the eye. “This is hard.”

That surprises him enough that his jaw snaps shut. Whatever he was just about to say is locked inside, and it gives her space to rush on again.

“It’s really hard, Castle.” She scoots around to draw her knees up, to plant her feet against his thighs and sit at right angles to him. “I keep thinking I’ll hit my stride, but I’m flailing, and I think back to when I was just out of the academy, when I made detective, when I made it to homicide. I don’t—“ She shakes her head. Her forehead clonks against her own knees. “I don’t remember it being this hard.”

She falls quiet. It’s not that she has nothing more to say. She has, if anything, too much more to say—about how she might be too old, or she might not be cut out for a job this big, how she was only ever built to be a big fish in a small, municipal pond. There are a whole host of might bes clogging her throat, but she can’t get any of them out.

He shakes his head, though. He wriggles his fingers between the unforgiving sharpness of her kneecap and her forehead. He coaxes her chin up.

“Kate.” He ducks in for a kiss. There’s something he’s not saying. There might be a lot of somethings he’s not saying. Or he might be waiting for her to be ready for him to say anything at all. That might be it. “Kate, all those times before. You were . . . focused.” It’s a far kinder word than the her of fifteen years ago deserves, but it still gets her dander up. It still stiffens her spine, but he’s not inclined to let her go. “I mean—“ He rushes along, clumsy with his words, but not giving her an opening. “Those were all right after your mom. Right after. And now—I mean you are doing so much better now. You have this full life, you have so much more . . .”

She feels her eyes narrow. She’s expecting a joke. She’s expecting some self-aggrandizing posture to get a laugh out of her, but his face is alight with sweetness and sincere wonder.

“Isn’t it possible”—he shoots her a shy glance—“that it feels harder because you have more to balance now?” He holds her hands tight. “Isn’t it possible that it’s—at least some of it is—a good thing?”

“A good thing,” she echoes. She still feels exhausted. She still feels gloomy and out of place here. But she knows now what it is, why she feels renewed by even this chaotic thirty-six hours with him, a night, another night, and a lovely, companionable morning sandwiched in between. She rises up to kiss him, to wrap her arms around him. “I miss you,” she whispers. “I miss the things you see.”

A/N: The horror of leaving New York comes close to achieving morphousness

images via kissthemgoodbye

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 6 #Castle: Valkyrie #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Rachel McCord #Writing #Tell Me More

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spartanguard · 3 years

Text

partners

summary: SVU detective Emma Swan's new partner is not what she expected. Thankfully, that's a good thing.

A/n: So I've been watching a LOT of Law & Order: SVU lately and when I got to the episodes where Stabler was partnered with Dani Beck, it just smacked with CS feels. This is just a bit of exploration of that, in honor of @optomisticgirl ‘s birthday!!

B—HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Thank you for being the most amazing friend, and the best person to bounce crazy fic ideas off of (like this). I hope you have the most amazing day and I love you!!!!

Note: While there isn't any actual sexual violence in this story, it is an SVU AU, so it's mentioned.

rated T | 2.3k words | AO3

She met him while he was trying to arrest a perp who’d just walked.

“Are you Detective Swan?” he’d asked, and she immediately noticed his accent—the way it wrapped around her last name in a way that sent a shiver down her spine, but it was hard to tell if it was in a good way or not.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she tossed back.

“I’m your new partner. Killian Jones.”

She shook his offered hand (only later noticing he only had the one) and wondered—just what the hell were they about to get into?

[He was her second new partner in as many weeks. Graham, who she’d worked with since she joined the unit, had enough with special victims—with Boston in general—and had taken up some smalltown sheriff gig in Maine. Emma knew he’d be happier there, but it kind of left her in the lurch. They’d sent someone new over the week before, but her style didn’t gel with Mulan’s quite well enough—the woman was a damn fine detective but just...too different.]

Jones was new to special victims, transferring in on the recommendation of the captain at his previous precinct, where he’d worked in homicide. The dead victims, he was used to; the live ones—not so much.

It was pretty obvious on their first case together, when they were interviewing the young girl in the hospital. Emma—she’d seen enough of the world’s shitty side that little phazed her any more; growing up in the foster system made her uniquely suited to this line of work.

But Killian? He was visibly upset; she had to physically restrain him from running out of the hospital to start tracking down the culprit, holding him back by the sleeve of his leather jacket. They hardly had a lead on this. Something could be said for enthusiasm, but that didn’t excuse jumping ahead of themselves. That’s how you got into trouble—that was how criminals got away with murder (literally); she’d done that enough for the both of them, and had a feeling he had, too.

She felt they had a lot in common, actually; there was an obvious affinity for leather coats, but past that, there was something familiar in his eyes. Not that she’d met him before, or anything—just something in the determined set of his gaze when interviewing a suspect, in the empathetic way he handled the victim.

She still wasn’t sure if that was good or not, especially when he almost forgot protocol—almost lost them evidence—by rushing in too soon.

And she was half ready to walk into Captain Mills’ office to request a new partner (again) when she found him asleep at his desk with what could only be described as a murderboard spread out behind him. He looked younger and softer in his sleep, impossibly gorgeous with the way his long lashes rested on his cheekbones and gentle breaths from his full lips—and none of that was really pertinent, because the man had just researched his way to a solved case.

“Just who are you, Killian Jones?” she asked when she later woke him up with coffee and a bear claw (biting back a comment on the rumpled state of his usually pristine waistcoat-and-dress shirt combo).

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he drawled, holding her gaze intently before taking a long pull from his cup.

She knew she shouldn’t, but damn, did she.

It wasn’t until a couple cases later that she began to put together the pieces of him. It had been a doozy of a kidnapping, and he’d been on edge the whole time—right until they finally tracked down the little boy who’d been abducted. Emma slapped the cuffs on the miserable excuse for a father who’d taken him and Killian pulled the boy into his arms, visibly deflating once he knew he was safe.

She dragged him to their unit’s favorite bar that night and slid a glass of rum in front of him, along with the directive to “Talk.”

He downed it in one shot, then worried his bottom lip (much to Emma’s distraction) before saying, “Have I mentioned I have a daughter?”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, but she let him explain without interruption. Her name was Alice; she was 8. He had sole custody, and with good reason: her mother, his ex-girlfriend, had kidnapped her from his apartment when she was only a few years old. “It’s the most scared I’ve ever been,” he confessed. “And today...it’s like I was right back in that moment.”

“I don’t blame you,” she replied, then finished her own whiskey. This was probably where she should drop some of her own tragic backstory, right? Like the scumbag who left her pregnant at 17, and the baby boy she put up for adoption? “Props to you for doing it on your own. I obviously couldn't.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, love; you gave him his best chance.” He gently set his hand over hers on the bar and she froze; not because he was cold—quite the opposite, actually—but between that tiny gesture of support and the understanding in those too-blue eyes, she felt more seen than she had by anyone in ages, even Graham.

It was suddenly too much, too intimate, and she yanked her hand away and ordered another drink. “Is your ex the name on your tattoo?” she asked, trying to put some space in between them (physically and emotionally).

It worked. He sat back up and tugged his right sleeve down with his prosthesis, hiding the ink, and she could almost see the walls go back up between them. “No. That’s...another story. For another time.” He stood and tossed some cash on the counter. “Alice is with my neighbor; I better go get her. See you ‘round.” And he left hastily.

It was what she wanted to happen. He’d suddenly gotten too close. So why did she feel like such an ass about it?

She was going to apologize at their next shift, but they got thrown into another case. And then another after it. It was a different kind of intense—a different kind of intimate—than that moment in the bar; very quickly, she had to trust him, and vice versa. That was something neither were predisposed to, but were managing to do...honestly, better than she had with anyone.

After putting another rapist behind bars, Killian said with a smirk, “I don’t mean to upset you, Swan, but I think we make quite the team.” And he winked (well, tried to), and she just blushed back, like she was a teenager in love all over again. That fact that would normally send her running but, for the first time in years, she wasn’t opposed to it—except for, y’know, the fact that he was her partner and they were coworkers and HR generally looked down on that kind of thing.

She doubted he was interested, anyway. They hadn’t really done anything outside of work since that night; he was always quick to get home to Alice, and she didn’t fault him that—especially when she finally met the kid, who was clearly her father’s daughter in all the best ways.

They got a call for a case late one weeknight; Emma easily beat him to the scene, since he had to make sure his neighbor could watch Alice at such an ungodly hour. She handed him a coffee when he got there and they made their way to the ME, to get the rundown on the vic.

Emma had been paying attention, but it shifted from the examiner to Killian pretty quickly; he stiffened at the description of what had been done to the victim, then when white as the sheet covering her when it was pulled back.

“Eloise,” he whispered, like he’d seen a ghost.

“Wait—as in…?”

He nodded. “Aye. Alice’s mum.”

“Shit.”

They got what little information they could from the scene and then started to head for the precinct, but he was shaking so much, she insisted on driving.

“Are you gonna be alright?” she asked.

He let out a hollow chuckle. “No, probably not.” Then, one long breath later, “It was Gold.”

She nearly missed their turn at that. “Gold? As in, the mysterious Mr. Gold, owner of the pawn store chain?”

“One and the same,” Killian said, scrubbing a hand down his face. “It’s the same as with Milah.”

She would have asked who that was, but he was resting his prosthesis over the spot on his arm where she knew the tattoo was. And she got a sinking feeling in her stomach that this was going to be a rough case.

Once they got to the office (and she got some more coffee in him), Killian explained: Milah was his ex, his first love—but also Gold’s wife. And while Gold was well-known for being a shady individual, no one had ever been able to pin anything on him.

But Gold did find out about their affair, and Killian came home one day to find Milah—dead, attacked and killed in the same way Eloise had been hours ago. He wasn’t sure what their connection was—and he didn’t think Gold knew about his to Eloise, especially since she’d only been released from jail last week—“But I know it’s him. And I’m going to prove it this time.”

(Apparently, last time had ended with him getting into an altercation with one of Gold’s lackeys. He escaped with his life, but not with his left hand.)

Milah’s case had gone cold, but given the similarities, they were able to pull the files. It took a few weeks—several late nights, more than a few breakdowns, many tears (mostly Killian’s, but Emma’s and Alice’s as well) before they finally—finally—had the evidence to pin both murders on Gold.

Tracking him down was another thing altogether, but they finally caught up with him in his penthouse apartment. To no one’s surprise, he didn’t go willingly; a fistfight broke out between he and Killian.

She was scared she’d have to intervene, knowing how personal it was. By the end of it, Killian had a black eye and a bloody lip, but Gold was in handcuffs, tossed unceremoniously in the back of a squad car.

Killian watched the vehicle pull away, then turned to Emma, and wrapped his arms around her in a bruising hug.

In any other situation, she would have gone stiff with shock, but she didn’t hesitate to lean right into him. Her desire to comfort him after that was just as strong as his need for comfort.

But then he pulled back, cupped her cheek, and pressed his lips to hers.

That did take her by surprise.

But she was equally quick to reciprocate.

Just as fast, it was over and he was walking away, leaving her utterly confused. Logically, she knew it was probably just an emotional reaction—a one-time thing.

However: he kissed her like he meant it. She was familiar with empty kisses and single-night flings—and that...was a whole lot more.

And she couldn’t deny it any longer: she wanted that more.

She arrived at the precinct early the next morning, hoping to beat him there so they could talk about whatever that had been. She’d even gotten up an hour before she usually did so she could get them good coffee. But he was already there, filling out forms at his desk.

“Hey,” she said, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward as she put the cup on his desk. “You taking care of the reports?”

“Um, yeah,” he stammered, pointedly focusing on the paperwork and not her.

She glanced down at the desk, and that wasn’t a report—that was a transfer form. “You want to leave?” she whispered, the familiar pain of betrayal washing over her. He didn’t want to be her partner anymore?

“Emma, I can’t stay here,” he said, only somewhat apologetic. (Also, though she didn’t realize it at the moment, it was the first time he’d used her given name.) “After this last case...it just wouldn’t be good form.”

“Fuck your good form, Jones!” she cried. “How can you say that, after everything these past few months? After last night?”

Calmly, he stood up and moved into her space. “I can’t be your partner any more, Emma,” he said, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear. “Because I want to be more than that. And last I checked, Captain Mills frowned upon inter-unit relations.”

That was true; she really did, more than most. But then the reality of what Killian was saying hit: “You...you’d give up your position for me?”

“Aye,” he answered, simply, like it wasn’t the heaviest thing anyone had ever told her.

What else was she supposed to do after a confession like that but kiss him? She rose up on her toes, gripped the lapels of his waistcoat, and found his lips with hers. He didn’t hesitate to pull her close and she was exceedingly glad no one else was in the squad room, because she’d never quite been kissed so closely to within an inch of her life as she’d been then.

(Also, it was a good thing no one was around when he pushed her onto his desk to deepen it further. If Captain Mills later noticed the forms were a bit crumpled, she didn’t say anything.)

Killian ended up transferring back to his old precinct, old job. It turned out they missed him. Emma knew exactly why; her next partner, David, was great, but no match.

Good thing she got to go home to Killian—and Alice—every night.

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

thanks for reading, and send B all the birthday love! tagging some others:

@kat2609 @thesschesthair @xpumpkindumplingx t @cocohook38 @annytecture @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @profdanglaisstuff @wingedlioness @word-bug @thisonesatellite @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @its-imperator-furiosa @fergus80 @thejollyroger-writer @ineffablecolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @stubblesandwich @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @donteattheappleshook

#cs ff #cs modern au #cs detective au #happy birthday #optomisticgirl #my ff

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forsakenoathkeeper · 3 years

Text

I Am Alive (chapter 8/?)

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Please support me on AO3 & thanks for reading ♥

"Looks like we're gonna have to bring the plastic detective," Gavin said sourly, removing his phone from his ear.

Connor had been looking through hours and hours of security camera footage all morning. Somehow, he still managed to hear Gavin insult him from across the room.

Seeing as he didn't need to sleep, Connor was one of the first detectives to arrive in the morning, almost every morning. Detective Reed rarely failed to come in shortly after him. Judging by the dark lines in the skin beneath his eyes and redness in his sclera, Connor assumed he suffered from insomnia.

"Just sittin' there, doin' nothing?" Gavin asked, suddenly standing by Connor's desk. He crossed his arms, looking down at the android with contempt.

Connor had been staring at a blank computer screen, finding it much faster and easier to just use his internal interface than the computer. He also operated at much faster speeds than desktops.

He was aware of how comical it appeared, sitting there and looking at nothing; but, most were aware of his internal processes and didn't bother him about the strangeness of his behavior.

Connor had found footage of Robert pulling himself out of the harbor, the time stamp suggesting it was a few hours after their encounter. He had not managed to catch any more footage of him since. He also was on the lookout for the assailants that had attacked androids at the protests yesterday. Unsurprisingly, they were also laying low.

It was a massive city and there was a lot of ground to cover.

"I am going through security camera footage," Connor answered plainly, looking up at Gavin from his seat.

"Ahuh," Gavin replied, clearly not giving a damn. "Got a crime scene with a dead android. Heading over now. Don't fucking keep me waiting."

Connor didn't bother asking for any info, knowing full well he wouldn't get any. As Gavin walked away, Connor checked the case logs in the police database. Luckily, it was already there. The first responding officers had documented it fairly well.

Twenty-one minutes ago, officers responded to a 911 call that an armed assailant had broken into a small manufacturing plant on the north side of the city. The facility created specialized computer chips. They were most commonly used for android motherboards; however, they were also used in some security monitoring systems.

At a quick glance, Connor could see all the victims were androids. They were employees for the morning shift. When he searched the company's records, he could see they had hired the androids as proper employees a few months ago.

One android was dead and three others had been injured. There was one human involved, another employee and a witness, unharmed.

An important report was missing. Despite the fact that three androids had been attacked, no emergency medical services had been called to the scene. Unfortunately, it wasn't entirely surprising. There weren't clear medical services for androids. Not yet.

The clinic you worked at was outsourced from one of the big contributors to Cyberlife's stocks. It was, essentially, the company's way of carefully moving their funds from Cyberlife production to healthcare for androids. Eventually, it was going to start paying for itself, and it served as a great way to protect their public image.

The police needed medical services to document the case, sure; but, Connor was also bothered by the injustice here. Fowler wasn't in yet to approve of his idea. So, the android decided to make the call himself.

...

Connor was already gone by the time you woke up.

Funny enough, he still managed to wake you up.

You hummed groggily into the phone, not bothering to check who it was before answering.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you would still be asleep," Connor's voice said politely on the other end.

You yawned into the phone. "Hm? Oh, Connor... You beat my alarm by, like, five minutes. Don't worry about it," you replied hoarsely, rolling onto your other side.

"There's been an incident," Connor began, suddenly sounding quite serious. His tone was enough to wake you up.

"Some androids were injured; but, no paramedics were called for... obvious reasons." Connor didn't sound mad, bless his heart. But, you could sense some frustration. "Would you mind accompanying me on this? I must warn you, it will lead to involvement in this case: paperwork, and likely testimonies."

"Yeah, of course, Connor," you said into the phone, rolling back over to swing your legs over the edge of the bed. "Text me the address?"

"Will do. I haven't arrived yet. I'll meet you there. I'm sorry, there's no food. I haven't had the time to go to the store for-..."

Connor trailed off when he heard you laughing quietly in the background.

"I'm sorry. I was just imagining you at the grocery store," you chuckled. While you didn't mean to laugh, it was hard not to. The image you conjured in your mind was Connor looking very out of place in a grocery store. He probably would only bring home raw vegetables and bottled water.

"I know what dietary needs humans have," Connor replied, almost defensive.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," you laughed softly. "Don't worry about it. I can just pick something up along the way."

"I hadn't considered, before I asked, if this unexpected time off would be approved by your employer?" Connor asked.

"Oh, they'll have a field day with this one. No IMS called to an assault. I should be asking you if YOU are gonna get in trouble."

"We need medical reports for the case; so, it isn't entirely in my own self-interest," Connor answered in his usual, calm tone. He sounded robotic at times; but, you had grown to recognize that as his own nature. He was a dedicated detective after all. In your privacy, he wore his heart on his sleeve. But, right now, he was on the force. It was all business.

"Alright. Meet ya' there-" You stole a glance at your messages and noticed the address. "Geez, north side of town? Oh - that's a factory, isn't it?"

"AlphaBio," Connor answered simply.

Naturally, you recognized that name, having a small stash of their chips at the clinic.

"You don't think it's related to the protests?" you asked. It was less of a question and more of a suggestion.

"It is... likely," Connor replied, sounding a little hesitant to answer you.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised... I'm'a let you go so I can get changed."

"I will see you soon - oh - and, good morning," Connor said warmly. You could practically hear the smile on his face.

You giggled, "good morning, Connor. See you soon," before hanging up.

...

Connor had failed to mention it was the crime scene for a homicide. Although, he was, specifically, a homicide detective; so, it really shouldn't have surprised you.

The first responders had separated the three damaged androids from the body and sanctioned off that part of the crime scene to everyone but the detectives.

You had been there for almost an hour and had yet to see Connor.

Two of the androids were AP700 models. They were almost exact twins, except one had blue eyes and the other had brown eyes. The third android was a BL100 model. She had her factory issued hair swapped with something short, boyish, and ebony black.

All of them had suffered defensive wounds. The detectives made it very clear you weren't to be given any insight to their testimonies. It was understandable. They wanted to verify that your findings matched their statements without preconceived notions.

Luckily, most of their wounds were superficial. The worse injury of the batch was one of the AP700's had severe nerve damage on his inner, right elbow, cutting off movement to his forearm and fingers. It was an easy fix, and he seemed grateful.

The BL100 was hesitant to let you touch her, not that you were the least bit offended or surprised. You knew what she was designed for, and she knew that you knew. It was only after she saw you handle the other two androids with respect that she felt comfortable enough to let you help her.

As you treated their damages, you documented them with a tablet one of the officers had given you. It was a little difficult, considering their documentation was designed for humans. Somehow, you managed to make it work.

You had been there for a little over two hours before you finally saw Connor. He had actually caught you off guard. You were seated at a small, fold out desk, tapping away on the DPD tablet when you saw someone suddenly approach in the corner of your eye. They set a water bottle at the edge of the desk.

Your eyes shifted to his torso first. Oh. He was wearing his nice coat today, and a matching, black tie.

"Thank you," you uttered, a small smile forming on your lips. You didn't maneuver too far from the tablet, going over your work carefully to make sure everything was properly notated. Considering it was documentation for human wounds, you had to put extra care into it.

"Hey, Robocop!" Detective Reed called out suddenly, before the android could say anything to you.

Connor knew he was talking about him, and wanted to ignore him; but, they were at a crime scene and this was important. He couldn't ignore him right now.

He shifted his eyes from you and over to the other detective. You froze up at the word 'Robocop', somehow doubting it was intended to be a word of endearment.

When Gavin saw that Connor was looking, he continued. "This computer is having issues. I figured it was your cousin or something. So, you should be able to fix it, yeah?"

All at once, blood rushed to your face and rage started to rise in you like smoke in a chimney.

Everyone in the room heard Gavin's remark: Hank, on the other side of the room, going over the case details with the first responding officers, another detective who had been dusting for prints along every entryway, a total of four police officers, and the CSI operator sitting at the desk next to Gavin.

If Connor was annoyed, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.

The android approached the detective. "Androids are far more complicated than desktop computers," he said calmly, keeping his eyes focused on Gavin. He wasn't just calm: he was polite. "I won't be of much help, I'm afraid."

The person seated in front of the computer, a member of their computer division, looked uncomfortable enough to commit seppuku right then and there.

"Do the hand thing," Gavin suggested, lifting his hand for a moment and waving it like he was talking to a child. "You know - probe it."

"I can only probe androids," Connor answered, plainly, as if unbothered by the ridiculousness of it all.

"It's fine. I can recover the data-" the crime scene investigator tried to mediate. It was clear that Gavin wasn't listening to him.

"Ohhh - right - right," Gavin replied, drawing out his words in mock understanding. "Poor girlfriend," he added on with a chuckle.

Did he just suggest-...?

Something in you snapped. You carefully set down the tablet, pushed your chair back, and marched over to the detective.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" you called out to the detective, not caring if everyone in this god-damned room was watching.

The smug bastard turned around, eyeing you. You stepped right up to him, fearless, fire in your eyes. You could tell Connor was looking at you; but, most of your vision was being taken in by this asshole, leaving you unable to make out Connor's expression.

"Ugh - shit," Hank muttered to himself. He approached, deciding to intervene before things got ugly.

"A real cop," Gavin sneered at you. "-and you are here as a formality. Don't push your luck."

"Connor is a real cop," you practically snarled at the guy. "He deserves just as much respect as anyone else."

"That's enough," Hank said lowly, directed at both you and the detective.

The lieutenant looked around, eyes briefly scanning everyone in the room. "This isn't a high school locker room. Get back to work," he hollered. He was loud and commanding. His words didn't fall on deaf ears.

Except, you and Detective Reed were still locked in a death glare.

You wanted to punch him. You hadn't felt the desire to do that since college, when you had to share crowded hallways with smug assholes who thought they owned the world.

Somehow, you had a feeling, the detective could sense that.

"Unless you wanna get arrested for assaulting a police officer, honey, I suggest you back down," he threatened, craning his neck a little to get closer to you.

The android felt his internal temperature rise at the word 'honey'. He didn't care if Gavin called him 'plastic detective', 'robocop', or whatever else came to mind. But, that, directed at you, specifically, bothered him.

Connor could see how tense you were, staring Gavin down with the kind of burning rage he had seen in you once before, directed at himself when he attempted to prevent you from salvaging supplies from a truck in the middle of a firefighter.

He wasn't sure if you would actually hit Detective Reed; but, he couldn't take that chance. There was a high probability that Detective Reed would go through with his threat. You didn't have a criminal record, and Connor didn't want you to end up with one, especially because of him.

The android moved in and slid his arm around your waist. He pulled you into him and away from Gavin, turning his back to the detective. With his legs moving, you had no choice but to shuffle your own feet to keep up with him, practically being dragged away. You flailed awkwardly, but Connor kept you up.

"Don't," Connor requested. You glared at the detective over Connor's shoulder.

Gavin seemed pleased with that. "I would listen to your vibrator, sweetheart," he called out to you smugly, starting to step away. "Might do ya' some good!"

"You don't fucking know when to quit," Hank snarled, his hand roughly falling onto Gavin's shoulder, giving him a push away from you.

"Take your own advice, fuckhead!" you almost shouted over Connor's shoulder. "Maybe if you got laid every once in a while, you wouldn't be such a piece of s-"

"Please don't," Connor interrupted you, stepping in the way so that he took up most of your field of view.

"Connor, don't you fucking-" you hissed at him.

"He's not worth it," Connor warned, eyes narrowing slightly at you. Well, that was new. He actually looked a little angry with you.

"Like fuck he isn't. That bastard deserves to be punched in his stupid bitch-ass fa-"

"I don't want you to get in trouble," he insisted, shaking you a little.

You clenched your jaw, glaring at the android's stupid, handsome face. That bastard disrespected him. You had no doubt that it wasn't the first time, and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

"I like when you get angry," Connor commented with a small grin. He didn't say it, but you couldn't hear it being followed with, 'cute'. He seemed enamored in that moment, and he was, captivated by how passionate you were in his defense, even if it didn't exactly make sense to him.

"...maybe I should punch you instead," you grumbled, trying not to be completely smitten with him.

Connor removed his arm from your waist and stepped back a little, giving you space. You let go of his shoulders and fixed your scrub top, which had been bunched up a little after he grabbed you.

"Well-" you stammered, feeling a little flustered. You couldn't help it. You liked it when he was like this. Connor wanted to be protective, but he also wanted to give you freedom, and it clashed so beautifully in him.

"Y-yeah, well, he fucking had it coming and - and you should'a just let me-..." You sighed heavily. Of course he shouldn't have just let you do whatever.

But, still-

-you were frustrated.

"-you're in the doghouse, mister," you proclaimed quietly, sounding barely serious at all, and poked a finger into Connor's shoulder.

The android stared at you, perplexed.

The dog... house?

As you stepped away and returned to the desk, Connor searched the internet for the meaning of that. From his findings: it seemed to be a word primarily used between couples and meant that someone was in trouble for angering the other, and held the connotation that the one in said 'doghouse' would not be bedding with the one they had angered.

Connor fixed his tie in place of his pride.

He couldn't say he didn't understand why you would be upset with him. What he had done to you was degrading, wasn't it? He had manhandled you, in front of everyone.

He despised Detective Reed, if he was being perfectly honest. It was something he had struggled with; but, it was inevitable that he would meet people whom he simply could never get along with.

He could make sense of being disliked for being an android; he had heard many, many reasons ranging from past traumas to selfish insecurities. But, Detective Reed sought out ways to degrade him whenever the moment convenienced him.

It didn't exactly help that Connor had left him passed out in the evidence room some odd months ago. That likely left a huge dent in his ego. Of course, Connor didn't bring it up because he didn't care.

Connor had yet to hear the detective actually call him by his name. If he was being perfectly honest, 'robocop' was somehow the most flattering of the bunch.

Detective Reed seemed to enjoy relating him to every piece of computer equipment in the office. Connor knew this was to remind him that he wasn't human: he was a machine, a computer wrapped in plastic.

-and, he enjoyed emasculating Connor.

The android didn't care of the extent of Detective Reed's knowledge of his genitalia or whether or not he was capable of pleasing you sexually; but, you cared?

Maybe, while he was in the 'doghouse', he could try to make sense of it.

...

"It's almost midnight. What the hell are you still doing here, Connor?" Hank barked at him.

Connor looked up at his desk, uttering, "I could ask you the same thing, detective..."

Hank was holding his coffee mug in one hand, a folder in the other. He laughed, mumbling, "smartass", as he sat back down at his desk.

The android sighed out your name, "-said I'm in the 'doghouse'. I assumed that meant she wanted space."

Hank let out a bellowing laugh that almost startled the android. He nearly split his coffee, too. After Hank calmed his laughter and looked at him again, and caught that childish frown on Connor's face, he started laughing again.

"Trust me, son-" Hank coughed, still trying to calm his laughter. "She doesn't want space. She wants you to go home and apologize."

Connor looked at Hank like he was analyzing. He hadn't looked at Hank like that in a long time.

"I see..." he uttered, sounding quite embarrassed.

"It's about the thing Gavin said, huh?" Hank added on. "You not having a huge ego is good for you and all, but - of course she was gonna defend you because well - you know."

Hank waved his hand at Connor, not explicitly wanting to say what he was thinking.

"But," Hank continued, "you did the right thing: stopping her before she did something stupid. She knows that, which is why ya' need'ta go home and apologize anyway. Women are... like that."

Hank paused and took a sip of his coffee, hissing in response to how hot it was; however, that didn't stop him from immediately going in for another drink.

The android pondered over the lieutenant's words quickly.

"Thanks, Hank," Connor said, hastily removing himself from his desk. It was the first time he left the office without tucking his chair back in.

#connor x reader #deviant connor #deviant connor x reader #dbh fanfic #rk800 x reader #rk800 smut #connor smut

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fanmoose12 · 4 years

Text

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 1.

“You two make a good team.” “Thank you. His last partner cast a long shadow.”

Daredevil, vol. 4

Petra had been a police technician for long five years. She didn’t hate her job per se, and helping other people was always one of the biggest passions in her life, but… She always strived for something better, something bigger.

However, she hadn’t been promoted for so long that she had lost all hope of rising up in ranks. So when, one day, Captain Erwin called her into his office, she'd feared that he decided to transfer her to another division, or, maybe, he noticed some kind of inconsistencies in one of her reports. Her legs were wobbly, while she was walking through the station’s corridors. And as she opened the door to the Captain's office, her hands were shaking and sweaty.

But as it turned out, there was nothing to be worried about. She wasn't transferred, there was no mistakes in her reports. No, instead, she was promoted. To a detective. And her new partner was none other than detective Levi Ackerman himself.

Even outside of their department, Detective Ackerman was a living legend. In the ten years he had served in the homicide department, he and his partner Hange Zoe solved every single case appointed to them. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with, their unusual investigation tactics bewildered and sometimes shocked civilians, but nevertheless, they were a pride of their department. And there was no one, who was more proud of them than their superior officer, Captain Erwin. Those three trusted each other unconditionally, and were not only close colleagues, but dear friends as well.

Although, all of it had come to an abrupt end two years ago, when Hange Zoe mysteriously disappeared during one of the cases. It was quite unclear, if she had really died, her body was never recovered, and both Levi and Erwin refused to give a statement, regarding that accident. The only thing general public knew that detectives Zoe and Ackerman ventured on a mission to capture a dangerous criminal, Zeke Yeager, but only Levi walked out of that building alive.

And ever since that accident, detective Ackerman became secluded and aloof. His success rate dropped significantly and he refused to accept another partner.

Petra became a policeman, when detectives Zoe and Ackerman were in their prime and the talk of the whole city. Petra saw them a lot, as they hurried in and out of the station. They were a weird pair, and if she didn't know better, wasn't aware of just how successful their partnership was, she would never guess that those two genuinely liked each other. They were so different - Hange's lips were seemingly permanently curled into an excited smile, while Levi's face was always set in scowling expression. They constantly teased and made fun of each other, but there was always an undeniable affection in their words, no matter how biting they were, and in their eyes, as they gazed at each other. And the fact that Levi was taking her death so hard, only further proved that those two were extremely close comrades.

And, of course, from the first time she had laid her eyes on detective Ackerman, Petra couldn’t help, but admire him. He was sharp, collected, hard-working and righteous. He embodied everything a good policeman should be.

And now, she was going to be his partner. Petra couldn't wait to start their new case! As she walked away from Captain Erwin’s office, she kept imagining what her first day of working with legendary Levi Ackerman would be like.

"Good day, I'm detective Petra Ral and this is my partner Levi Ackerman."

Gosh! Just the thought of it made her feel dizzy.

She was so happy! She was ready to do everything to prove herself to Levi. To be an even better partner to him than his previous one.

***

The next day, as soon as Petra woke up, she could barely conceive her excitement. She came to work earlier than usual, and she couldn't keep a smile off her face, as she gathered all of her belongings into a box, so she could bring them to her new workplace. She would be sharing an office with detective Ackerman himself! She didn't dare to even dream about that, but now it was actually happening! Truly, she was the luckiest person in the world.

"What got you in such a good mood?" Oluo, her past co-worker asked. "Have they finally fired you?"

"I'm being promoted, dummy," she couldn't resist the smug grin that appeared on her face. "So show some respect. You're talking to a Detective Petra Ral."

"Detective?" Oluo whistled, sitting back in his chair. "And who is that miserable fool who will become your partner?"

"I don't think you've heard of him," Petra put hands on her hips, looking down at Oluo, a sense of pride nearly overwhelming her. "Does the name Levi Ackerman say something to you?"

"No way," Oluo's eyes widened almost comically. "You're fucking with me."

"I'm not."

"Holy shit, you're detective Ackerman's partner? He refused one for years!"

Petra shrugged, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Maybe, he saw something special in me."

"Or, maybe, Captain Erwin pressured him into this."

Petra huffed. "You're just jealous because you'll be stuck here, doing patrol work till your pension."

"Oh, shut up and leave already," Oluo turned to his computer. "I was getting sick of seeing your face anyway."

Petra's gaze lingered on Oluo's back for a moment. Maybe, she was too harsh with him? True, he was oftentimes lazy and enjoyed slacking off, dumping all of his work on Petra, but he was a good man. An honest one, Petra respected him. She liked him, too, even though sometimes that arrogant smirk of his drove her absolutely mad.

Well, she could always apologize to him later. Knowing Oluo, he probably didn't even care about her words. Certainly a cup of coffee would make him forget about any offence.

Besides, she had to forget about him for the time being. Today was important day. She couldn't let herself lose her focus.

***

When Petra came to her new office, Levi was already there.

"G-good morning!" she squealed. "I'm your new partner, Petra—"

"I know," Levi harshly cut her off. "I'm sure you know my name as well, so let's skip the pleasantries. Just put your shit somewhere and get to work."

"Oh... alright."

Trying to hide her disappointment, Petra looked around the office. There were four desks there. She decided to take the one that was across from Levi's.

"No!" instantly, Levi covered the desk with his hands. He looked up, glaring at Petra so fiercely, as though she had done some horrible dead. His voice was quiet and yet so cold, it made shivers run down Petra's spine. "That desk is already taken."

Petra gave it a second look. Now that she stood so close to it, she could see that the table was covered in stacks of papers and empty coffee cups. However, despite its messiness, the desk was pristinely clean.

Petra checked the date on the report that was lying on the top. The report was written almost two years ago. By detective Hange Zoe.

Oh.

So Levi didn't really move on, did he?

"Can I sit here?" Petra pointed to the desk near the window.

Levi looked at her for barely a second.

"That desk is empty," he said, returning to his work.

An uneasy silence fell over the room. At least, it was uneasy for Petra. Levi didn't seem to care in the slightest.

"So..." she tentatively began after a few of excruciatingly long minutes. “What is our first case?"

"Oh, yes," Levi threw a case file on her desk. "A middle-aged man was killed this morning. A rich snob, he was most definitely killed by his wife, because he refused to share his money. I've already run through the possible theory with forensics, all you need to do is to question his wife to see if my theory is legit or not. I'm sure it is, though."

"Ah... okay."

So there won't be any teamwork, huh? Maybe, it was for the best. Levi's attitude left much to be desired.

Still, Petra wasn't going to give up so easily.

So when she returned from detention center, where the wife of the deceased was held (she did kill her husband, Levi was right), Petra brought him a cup of tea.

"I didn't know how you take it," she said sheepishly, putting the cup in front of him. "Tell me what you think."

Levi looked up at her, regarding her carefully. His eyes were sharp, but that was about everything Petra could say about them. They were a beautiful shade of grey, but she could see nothing in them, but boredom and indifference.

Their eye contact didn't last for a second too long. Levi turned to the cup on his desk. He lifted it slowly, staring at the swirling liquid inside. Glancing back at Petra again, be put it to his lips and took a sip.

"It's very good," he said after a moment. "Exactly how I like it."

Petra's heart swelled. Her lips almost curled into a happy smile. But then Levi threw the contents of the cup into the trash can.

"Her tea always tasted like shit," he muttered under his nose, but loud enough for Petra to hear.

She could feel tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.

"I appreciate the effort," his voice didn't sound like he truly did. "But don't bring me tea, or some other kind of food, ever again. You shouldn't waste your time with such useless shit."

And then he turned back to his computer, not sparing another glance in her direction.

Petra felt like the biggest idiot, like a naive little girl, who was scolded by her teacher.

Why did she even bother?

***

"Petra, right?" Levi asked after a while.

"Yeah?"

"You can go home earlier, Petra."

"But I didn't finish my report—"

"I'll do it for you. Go and rest."

Petra narrowed her eyes. It sounded like Levi was trying to make her leave.

"Were you working on the case the whole day?"

Levi had been glued to his computer screen ever since Petra came. He didn't even go on a break.

"...Yes, of course. What else would I be working on?"

He hesitated, for less than a second, but he did. Why? What was he doing? What was so important to her new partner? Oh, how Petra wanted to know! But she knew she couldn't, there was no way that Levi would be willing to tell her about it.

However, she could always find out in some other way.

Not today, though.

"Alright, thank you," she smiled sweetly. That smile always made everyone smile back. However, it seemed to have no effect on Levi. "I'll be going then. Have a nice evening."

"Sure," Levi answered absentmindedly, his attention already back on his screen.

Before walking out of the office, Petra gave him another critical look.

She'd be damned, but she'll find out his secret. She'll prove to him just how good she was as a detective.

Not worse than his dead partner.

#so i finally did it!!!!!!#i've had this idea for a while #and believe it or not!!!! i've been thinking ab before ch 132 djkgslgkjslkgj #but yeah levi is going to be sad in this fic #but!!!!!!!! not for long i promise #someone will come back to cheer him up!!!!!#sooooo tell me what you think about it i guess????#i know that this thing is weird lmao #and yeah i've got this idea while reading daredevil #don't judge pls #levihan #levi ackerman #levi x hange #levihan fanfiction #petra ral #snk fanfiction #snk fic

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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simsroyallegacy · 3 years

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Anissa Crawford Speaks Out: That B*tch is Crazy!

Last night Lady Anissa Crawford, a Lunarian socialite best known for her stint as girlfriend to the teenaged Prince Nicky, broke her silence on her experiences with Princess Isadora of Castille. She gave an interview to famous late night talk show host Francesca Valentine, giving an in depth look into the early signs of Isadora’s troublesome behavior. The interview drew in millions of viewers to Late Night Tea with Francesca and started the trending hashtags #TheWickedWitch and #BurnIsadora after Lady Anissa let loose how the younger Castillian Princess would send people to harass the young socialite during her relationship with the Crown Prince. View the full interview under the cut!

Francesca Valentine (FV): Now that we’re back from the break, here’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for this evening my dear viewers! Tonight’s special guest is a socialite we all know and love to hate, a woman who has dabbled in fashion design, modeling, and dating very wealthy men: Lady Anissa Crawford!

The audience bursts into applause as Lady Anissa walks onto the stage and seats herself across from Francesca.

Anissa Crawford (AC): Thank you so much for having me Francesca, I’ve always been a big fan of the show!

FV: It’s a pleasure to have you here, Anissa, though it feels like you’re always on my show one way or another.

AC: *laughs* Well, I’m always happy to give you something to talk about, dear!

FV: *smiling* Tonight you asked for this to be the platform from which you speak of events kept as secrets you’ve held close to your heart for many years now, correct?

AC: Yes. I’ve kept quiet all these years on the advice from my parents and lawyers but now that some of the truth has come out about Isadora I feel like I should share my experiences with her, if only to give the people a better understanding of what poor Nicky must have gone through and by extension Princess Minerva.

FV: It’s so brave of you to do this, Anissa, truly. Let’s start with having you explain how exactly you started your relationship with the Crown Prince?

AC: Nicky and I met at a Hartfordshire Academy sports event when we were both in our junior year of high school. I attended Hartfordshire’s sister school, an all girl’s private academy right across the street from the boys. We would rarely be allowed to interact with each other anywhere but sports events were always the exception.

FV: So you caught his eye?

AC: Actually, I started talking with one of his good friends at the time, Jack Pierson. I thought Jack was cute and wanted to get closer to him and so I started hanging out with his friends which included Nicky. Anyways, long story short Nicky and I got to be friends before we started dating; we actually didn’t realize we liked each other until he invited me on his birthday trip to Selvadorada.

FV: Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t Princess Isadora on that trip as well?

AC: She was. Everyone who went on that trip were Nicky’s closest friends and family at the time. Prince Gabriel, her older brother, had been his childhood best friend since before they turned eleven. He’s always been close to him and Isadora – he treated her like his own sister.

FV: What were your first impressions of her at that time?

AC: The moment she realized I was a part of the trip – before Nicky and I even got together on it – she was glaring at me and complaining to her brother about an “outsider” travelling with them. She made several passive aggressive comments about that childish nickname jealous little girls gave me back in my teens: “Easy-A”.

FV: What did HRH say about it? Didn’t he defend you against her?

AC: He pulled me aside and told me not to take it personally, that she did this to everyone who came into their circle of friends. Nicky pitied her because of her family situation, you see, and explained part of it to me. I pitied her too after that.

FV: Oh? Care to share?

AC: I don’t think I will, sorry, but that stuff was personal to the Castillian Royal family and I’m not comfortable airing the entire family’s dirty laundry to the world. Just know that she had a seriously messed up childhood and started taking it out on others. I tried not to let her hostile behavior get the best of me on that trip but when Nicky and I announced we were a couple she started to escalate her vicious attitude.

FV: How so?

AC: When no one was looking she’d trip me up, spill things on me, hide my things; those were just petty little kid things, honestly, and didn’t bother me too much. It was when she stole my phone and texted my parents the nastiest things – she was calling my mom wh*re and b*tch and even told my father that “I” had found out about an affair my mom was having with her assistant! – they both were so angry with me! What nobody knows about that trip is the fact that my father had me sent home early because of the cheating accusation.

FV: Was there any truth to it?

AC: Absolutely not! But at the time he honestly thought it was something I had told him in confidence, he had brought all of my siblings and my mom together for a dramatic family meeting where they started fighting over it. I had tried to tell them that it wasn’t me who said those things, that it was all a lie from that little brat but neither of them believed me.

FV: What happened during after that?

AC: My parents thought I was acting out for attention and sent me to therapy. Funnily enough, it really helped me focus on my home life and school, which were things I didn’t care too much about back then. It even ended up bringing me closer to Nicky, who was so, so supportive to me during that time. Nobody ever believed me that Isadora was the one who was using my phone to “grab attention” from my parents though.

FV: Was that the only time you had contact with her? Or were there other incidents over the years?

AC: There were tons of situations where she would straight up shove me – she even “accidentally” caused me to fall down a flight of stairs at an event I had gone to with Nicky! I ended up only spraining my ankle but that was seriously messed up of her to do – she’s obviously had a homicidal streak in her for years. It’s honestly not a surprise to me that she’s behind the attempted assassination of Princess Minerva.

AC: She would also follow Nicky around all. the. time. Honest to Watcher, she was stalking him. She’d make sure to fly out to Lunaria every weekend to see him and would become furious when he didn’t include her in his plans. She would guilt trip him constantly into inviting her along on our “dates” and when it got to the point where I’d become angry with him over it he’d pull the “she’s like my sister” card and say he’ll make it up to me.

FV: And did he make it up to you?

AC: Honestly? Yes. He was an attentive boyfriend, despite the weekly Isadora interruptance. He always knew how to make me laugh, was patient when I had my infamous diva moments, got along great with my family, and really pushed me to be better. He also bought me some pretty great gifts. *laughs*

FV: The public was in an outrage over his spending habits for your gifts, no?

AC: *snickers* He did know how to spoil a girl.

FV: If you were getting along so well, how did it all fall apart?

AC: After Nicky and I went to separate universities, we kind of took a break.

FV: Kind of?

AC: We still had every intention of getting back together in the end, but I wanted to be free during my college experience and I thought he wanted the same. He ended up rooming with Gabriel and of course Isadora constantly came around under the pretense of “visiting her big brother”.

FV: Is that sarcasm I’m detecting from you Anissa?

AC: Damn straight. I don’t know exactly what happened but she got her claws into him. Made him think I had been cheating on him for our whole relationship, – I still believe it was her who was feeding the press “exclusive” interviews about my Easy–A behavior – she also fed him lies that I was just using him for his money.

FV: You were constantly asking him for things though...

AC: I never asked him for much more than his love and time. He bought everything he knew I enjoyed because that’s the type of person he is. He’d give the entire world to the person he loves the most if he can, that’s what makes him such a great partner. I don’t know how Isadora poisoned his mind against me like that, it’s like she was a witch or something *laughs*.

FV: *laughing* Well, she’s certainly wicked!

AC: The last straw for me was after his graduation from UBrite when those photos of him and Isadora were published. I had traveled out to see him at the home he had been given as a graduation gift, hoping to talk things over with him and see if we could salvage or relationship but...*sighs*

FV: But what?

AC: Let’s just say it was too late for us. He began dating Isadora openly after we split and I vaguely remember saying some seriously nasty things when I was cornered about our split. I feel terrible for implying that Nicky was such a selfish man, that he was only with her to “get it out of his system”. He truly loved her then, I know that. He had always loved her to some degree, platonically as children and romantically after we grew into adults. I was devastated to hear about those abuse rumors – he didn’t deserve that, no one does, ever. I’m so happy she’s been exposed for what she is: a crazy b*tch. I hope they catch her soon.

FV: Will you be reaching out to HRH now that his eyes have been opened to Isadora’s evil ways? Is there a chance you could rekindle your romance?

AC: *laughing* Dear Watcher, no! That chapter of my life is over and I’ve fallen for someone else.

FV: Oh? Who is the lucky guy?

AC: *smirks* Oh Francesca, I don’t kiss and tell. Maybe you’ll see us together on my Simstagram someday...

#sims 4 royal legacy #sims 4 royal family #sims 4 monarchy #sims4 royal family #sims4 royal legacy #ts4 monarchy #ts4 royalty

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ggukcangetit · 4 years

Text

Dreamcatchers 6

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Summary: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

A/N: it’s been a while since i posted and even longer since i updated this fic but its still here and so am i! lol. updates are not gonna be very frequent but i have a list of works in progress that i plan to finish so there will be something or the other being posted at the most random moments.

also, reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing!

21st December

"Is this how you conduct a sample analysis?! Where did you even train? I've half a mind to report you and get you kicked out!!"

Yuri stopped at her desk, surprised to hear Seulgi's yelling so loudly that she could be heard all the way from the floor above. She was usually extremely calm and even-tempered, but the past couple of days had seen her irritable, snappy, and downright furious.

"Dr. Ahn sounds really angry," whispered Jisoo, clutching a file close to her chest. "I've never heard her yell at anybody before. I hope she's okay."

"I'm sure everything's fine," said Jeon, walking over to his desk and dropping a bunch of files on it. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Yuri raised an eyebrow at him, but complied nonetheless. They walked outside, standing near a clump of trees outside of earshot of anyone in the station.

"Guess who I've just brought in on suspicion of murder for the 2nd Nov case?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"No!" gasped Yuri. "Minhyuk?"

"Yep. He's been in the country for a while now. Fancy giving me a hand with the interview?"

"Me? I mean," she bit her lip. "I wasn't part of the original investigation."

"I know, but in light of what you've found out and the fact that you're now my partner, Goh thinks it's okay."

"You told Goh?!"

"I had to. I can't restart the investigation without his permission."

Jeon stared at her for a few moments, trying to gauge her reaction. "So, what do you say?"

"Alright. Let's nail this bastard."

Ahreum was late. She had a meeting with one of her professors to decide on which medical stream she'd specialize in. Despite using forensics as an excuse to distract Seulgi, she was seriously considering it now. Deciding to pursue medicine had been a drastic career switch for Ahreum, and a lot of people had questioned her decision relentlessly. But if there was something she had learnt in the years following her parents' divorce, it was patience and the ability to block out irrelevant conversations. Namjoon had always been immersed in his studies, barely affected by the bitterness existing between their parents. Ahreum, barely in high school, felt lost and helpless during those times. After the divorce, things had become less tumultuous and she was able to see her parents as individual entities. That was when she realized that her father was never going to like any of her decisions, no matter how hard she tried to please him, and her mother preferred to stay aloof at the best of times. Ahreum learnt pretty early in life, that she needed to be there for herself. She loved her brother and parents, though the latter a lot less than the former. Her decision to study English Literature and Creative Writing had been a spur of the moment one - dictated more by the fact that her high school boyfriend was going to study at a major Arts university. She didn't really regret any of her decisions. Her degree had led her to finding a hobby she adored - photography. And having a freelance job meant that she could stay with Namjoon - who earned a significantly larger amount than her - and move whenever he needed to move as well. This was also how she had met Taehyung 3 years ago - a happy coincidence of events when she had been taking pictures outside the museum at Seoul. They had started talking about art and photography, eventually realizing that they lived in the same part of the city. In addition to Yuri, she also considered Taehyung to be her best friend. She had seen him during one of his lowest moments when Seokjin had left home; and then some time later when he had found Seokjin living in the town Ahreum and Namjoon had recently shifted to, she had stayed by him as he grappled with his anger and frustration towards his older brother until an eventual reconciliation.

But at this moment, she was beginning to lose patience with him. Five minutes before she was about to leave for her meeting, she received a bunch of frantic texts from him.

8.25 am

T: ahreum?? are u up??

T: jimins still in custody

T: im so worried

8.26 am

T: u there?

T: i want to visit him...

T: will u come with me?

8.27 am

T: hey

T: ???

T: i didnt sleep much so i dont wanna drive there

8.28 am

T: are u sleeping?

T: ???

He knew she had a meeting today. He knew how important the meeting was for her. She had spoken about it many times. Not for the first time, Ahreum wondered whether Taehyung cared about her beyond what directly concerned him. If it wasn't somehow relevant to him, he never seemed to remember much. It was a careless apathy that had hurt her during the beginning of their friendship, but she had accepted it as a part of him.

Her meeting was at 9 am and she usually needed 20 minutes to get there on her bike. She closed her eyes and mentally rehearsed the points she was going to bring up during her meeting. Her phone pinged once more, breaking her concentration.

8.30 am

T: hey

T: can u pick me up?

She frowned and shot a quick text before pocketing her phone and strapping on her helmet.

A: sorry have a meeting... talk later

As Ahreum sped through the narrow lanes, she was convinced that there was no way she was going to talk to Taehyung today. He would have to manage on his own for once.

Yuri and Jeon sat across from a very nervous Park Minhyuk, his bloodshot eyes indicating that he had been brought in after a rough night.

"Good morning." Jeon began the interview, his notes stacked neatly in front of him. "You were very hard to get a hold of, Mr. Park. Specifically because your company categorically states that you've been out of the country for business."

"I-" His face was white as a sheet.

"When we called your office, we were told that you are often out of the country on business trips. Short trips," Jeon flipped through his notes. "A fortnight, 20 days at max. Your secretary was very obliging - he told us that you traveled on October 12th and returned on October 27th. Then left the country again on November 1st and returned on November 16th. Another trip between November 22nd and December 6th. And finally, one more on December 10th from which you still haven't returned."

"Your phone records are very interesting, Mr. Park," said Yuri, joining in. "I'm DI Choi, by the way, and I will be assisting DI Jeon as his partner on the case. Now -" she opened the file in front of her and took out a particular page - "is this your cell phone number?"

"Yes, but-"

"Our Telecomms division looked over recent activity over the last 3-4 months. While your office confirms that you have been on multiple trips out of the country from October onwards, your phone has been operating in Korea for almost two months. Can you tell us why?"

Minhyuk remained silent, his hands clenched on the table.

"Do you recognize this?" Yuri placed a plastic bag on the table and moved it towards him.

The remaining color drained from Minhyuk's face as he stared at the ring inside the plastic bag.

"Let me help you out, Mr. Park," she continued. "This is an heirloom from your mother's side of the family. There was three such rings - one buried with your mother, one on your brother's finger, and one found at the scene of Son Eunbi's murder. Can you tell us how your ring found its way to a murder scene?"

"I didn't kill her!" Minhyuk looked like he was going to pass out. Jeon poured some water into a glass and passed it to him.

"She was dead when I got there!" he said after gulping down the water. His hands were shaking by this point.

"If she was dead when you got there, why didn't you call the police?"

"I..."

Faced with a possible murder charge, Minhyuk looked frightened but not nearly as forthcoming with an alibi as one would have hoped.

"Mr. Park," Yuri spoke after a period of silence. "Did you know that Ms. Son had a three year old daughter named Gina?"

Minhyuk gulped, his eyes breaking contact with hers. He removed his hands from where they had been clenched on the table, choosing to hide them in his lap.

"Are you Gina's father?" she continued. Minhyuk head shot up at her question.

"H-how did-"

"When did you find out?" she asked.

Minhyuk sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I guess there's no point in denying it since you know everything." He reached out and finished the remaining water in the glass. "In October, after I came back from a trip, I happened to meet her by chance and Gina was with her. It was odd, the way that she tried to avoid talking to me. And the fact that Gina also had clear grey eyes."

For the first time since the interview started, Yuri realised the resemblance between the Park brothers was limited but striking. Their eyes were the exact same shade of grey - while Jimin looked cold and unwelcoming, Minhyuk's glasses did well to give him a warmer appearance.

"I asked her why she hadn't contacted me when she got pregnant. Or in the three years since Gina was born."

"What did she say?" asked Yuri, softly.

"She was scared that I wouldn't believe her." Tears had started to roll down his cheeks. "I loved her... so much. And then she just disappeared one day. I tried so hard to find her but..."

Jeon poured another glass of water for him.

"I told her how happy I was to hear about Gina. That I wanted us to be a proper family. I was willing to do whatever was necessary if that's what she wanted as well. I think she was beginning to warm up to the idea. I even told my father to postpone my next trip so that I could spend a little more time with both of them. But-"

"But?"

Minhyuk stared at his hands, looking tired and dejected. "He - uh, he wasn't happy when he heard about Gina. My father has very particular expectations."

"What did he say to you? Did he threaten you, Mr. Park?"

Minhyuk let out a soft chuckle. "My father doesn't threaten. He suggests."

"And what did he suggest you do about Gina and Eunbi?" asked Jeon.

"That I stay away from them. For the sake of my inheritance."

"And did you?"

"I was planning to... I-I was meant to travel the next day and I thought I would go and see her once more before I left. But when I got there..."

Minhyuk covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself.

"What happened when you got there, Mr. Park?"

"She was lying there... in a pool of blood. Gina was asleep in the back. I-I didn't kill her. You have to believe me."

Yuri and Jeon exchanged a quick look as Minhyuk protested his innocence. They were aware that the homeless man had killed Son Eunbi. The DNA found at the crime scene confirmed the fact that he had stabbed her. But they needed Minhyuk to give them as much information as possible.

"I'm afraid we do not conduct our investigations based on belief, Mr. Park," continued Yuri, shuffling her notes meaningfully. "You still haven't provided us with an alibi for that night. Strange thing - the Park family seem to have a particular aversion towards providing alibis. Your brother was also extremely resistant when we spoke to him."

"You spoke to Jimin? What for?" Minhyuk's expression had changed completely. He looked strangely alert.

"I guess you aren't aware that Jimin was arrested for the murder of Kang Eunwoo on December 15th." Jeon spoke deliberately, hoping to elicit a reaction. And he was successful.

"What?! That's impossible! There's no way he could've done that!"

"Why are you so certain of that?"

"Because he was with me on December 15th!"

"I'm sorry but we can't take you at your word. You can't even provide a proper alibi for yourself on the night of Son Eunbi's murder. How can we be sure that the two of you aren't just covering up for each other?"

It was then that Minhyuk realised that he would need to come clean. There was no way to save Jimin without telling them the entire story.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll tell you everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes. If it can help Jimin, I'm willing to risk my father finding out."

Yuri glanced at Jeon who gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"Go on."

"After I saw Eunbi... lying there, I couldn't leave Gina. No matter what my father had said, I couldn't leave my daughter in such a situation. So I... took her away with me."

"Where is Gina now, Mr. Park?" Yuri asked, frowning.

"She's safe."

"Where is she?" asked Jeon, sharply.

"In Busan. I have an apartment there and she's been with me since that day."

"Why didn't you tell the police that you had her? Why does your company believe that you are abroad on a business trip?"

Minhyuk rubbed his eyes tiredly and drank some more water. "I couldn't let my father find out. Jimin and I have an apartment in Busan that we bought under a different name. It was a place our father couldn't find us. Gina's been staying there with me since 2nd November."

"Are you sure your father thinks you're abroad? It doesn't seem like something easy to cover up."

"Jimin helped with that," said Minhyuk, leaning back into the cold metal chair. "He told father that I had run away because he hadn't been understanding of my situation with Gina and Eunbi. Jimin's good at convincing people - it's a talent he's barely ever put to good use."

"So Jimin knew that you were hiding in a secret apartment with your recently discovered daughter?"

"Yes, he did. I have an alibi for 2nd November. I was in a meeting till 9 pm and then stopped for drinks at a nearby fried chicken place till 11 pm. I was a bit tipsy after that, which is why I decided to visit Eunbi and Gina. After taking Gina away from there, I went to Jimin's place, got the keys to the apartment and drove straight there. I think I reached around 2 am."

Yuri jotted down all this information, making a note to check on every new detail that had been mentioned.

"What about December 15th? You said Jimin was with you. Why?" asked Jeon, folding his arms across his chest.

"We meet once a week to make sure everything is going okay," said Minhyuk, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Sundays are usually the best days for that."

"Where did you meet?"

"At the local ice-cream shop," Minhyuk frowned, trying to remember something. "You know the one near the end of town?"

"The Dairy Berry? Yes, I know which one you're talking about." Jeon gave Yuri a brief nod to confirm that this was a legitimate spot and not something Minhyuk was making up on the spot.

"Gina loves sweet things and I thought it would be easier to take her with me the same day I met Jimin. I think we were there till 10 pm. After that, I dropped Jimin at a bar and drove back home."

"Which bar was this?" asked Yuri.

"Sunset."

"And you drove straight home after that?"

"You can check the dash cam on my car and the security tapes at my apartment building, if you want."

"We definitely will, Mr. Park," said Jeon, surveying him carefully. "In the meantime, you will be in custody until we have verified each and every single thing you just told us. So I suggest you keep yourself hydrated."

Yuri could feel a pair of eyes on her as she spoke to Jisoo and Suho.

"We need to verify everything that Park Minhyuk told us. But there's a lot of ground to cover and we've lost quite a bit of time since the murder of Son Eunbi. So I suggest you recruit some uniformed officers as well." Jisoo jotted down the locations and the times they needed to verify, and nodded to Suho to indicate she had forwarded the details to him. "We need to get the information as soon as possible."

"Will do," said Suho, giving her a reassuring nod.

Yuri waited for them to leave before walking over to the person who had been watching her for a while.

"Did you want to talk about something?" she asked Seulgi.

"I-" Seulgi tugged at her sleek, high ponytail, looking oddly hesitant. She seemed in a better mood than earlier in the morning when she had almost scared one of the interns into leaving the country. "Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah- " Yuri checked the clock on her phone - "just a minute though. I'm waiting for Jeon to get a warrant from Goh."

"Did he-? I mean, Jimin, uh... have you...? You know-" It was strange to see her grappling for words. "Are you certain he's done it?"

Yuri stared at her for a second. This wasn't what she had been expecting Seulgi to talk about. The doctor's relationship with Jimin was even more puzzling than she had originally perceived it.

"We're looking into it right now." She paused, trying to gauge Seulgi's reaction. "But you already know about the blood sample match - that, in itself, is pretty damaging."

"Y-yeah, I know."

Before Yuri could say anything more, Jeon came out of the Chief Inspector's office. "We've got a warrant to search Minhyuk's apartment. Let's go."

Glancing one more time at Seulgi's ashen face, Yuri put on her coat and scarf and followed Jeon out the exit.

Once inside Jeon's car, Yuri debated whether or not she should attempt to engage him in conversation. Her decision was made for her when he drove onto the main road, and lowered the volume of the police scanner.

"What was Seulgi saying?" he asked, his eyes focused on the road.

"Just where we were in the investigation."

"I see."

Yuri fiddled with the button on her coat, itching to say more.

"What's the deal with her and Jimin?" she finally asked.

"I- what do you mean?" Jeon raised his eyebrow and gave her the most puzzled expression he could muster while trying to stay focused on the crazy traffic.

"Their relationship is... weird. He keeps flirting with her, and she is on the verge of ripping his guts out at every given moment. But just now, she seemed almost worried about him."

"I don't really know... they've never really seen eye-to-eye on much." Jeon checked the rear view mirror to make sure he was clear before deftly changing lanes. "Jimin has always been the person who tries his utmost to push everyone's buttons. And Seulgi... well, she has a lot of buttons."

Yuri snorted loudly. "That tells me nothing and everything at the same time. You really have a way with words, Jeon."

He smirked at this, his eyes never leaving the road. "So does that mean you trust me now?"

"No." She looked at him and caught the way his face fell slightly at her response. "But who knows what the future holds..."

The smirk was back.

Ahreum had a terrible headache. She usually didn't get many headaches. So on the rare occasion that she did, it put her in a really terrible mood. The only person who knew how to handle this situation properly was Namjoon. He knew that she needed silence, dim lighting, green tea, fresh bread, and absolutely no unexpected company.

So when Ahreum got home after her grueling 3 hour long meeting, hoping to relax and recuperate, she wasn't too pleased to find Taehyung sitting in her living room, playing a very loud game on his tablet.

"You're back!" he yelled, once she slammed the door to make her presence felt. "I've been waiting for hours. How was your meeting?"

"'S okay," she replied, shortly. Taking off her coat, she opened the middle cabinet in the kitchen and searched for the green tea.

"Great! So do you wanna go and visit Jimin now?"

"No."

"What? Why not? You don't have anything else to do right now. Just come with me. Please!" He had walked into the kitchen and was standing in front of her with a pout on his lips.

As endearing as she always found his antics, Ahreum was at breaking point. She placed the cup on the counter with a loud clink, and turned to face him.

"Because I don't have time to follow you on your every whim, Taehyung. Because I have a life of my own. Because I am studying medicine, which, if you aren't aware, is a very taxing occupation." She paused for a breath, as his mouth fell open in shock. "Because I am not your babysitter. Or your handler. Or your caretaker. And I'm tired of being responsible for you. You're a grown ass adult and it's about time you acted like one."

"Ahreum, I'm-" His eyes were wide and worried, and she felt a tiny sliver of remorse. "I don't think you're my babysitter or handler or whatever. You're my best friend."

"I thought so too. In fact," she said, looking away from him. "I thought we were, or we could be, more."

"W-what? Ahreum?" Taehyung sounded so lost and confused that she was tempted to console him.

She walked to the front door and held it open for him. "I think you should leave now. I'm tired, I have a headache, and I don't want to be around anyone right now."

"Wait! What did you mean by that?" he asked, hesitantly standing at the entrance.

"I'm tired, Taehyung. I don't have the energy to explain everything to you. Now, please," she began closing the door slowly. "I want to rest."

"It's clear!" The uniformed officer confirmed to them, before opening the door further.

"Okay, let's see whether little Gina is here," instructed Jeon, his face drawn into a frown.

Yuri nodded and walked into the room on the left of the large living area. It was a study of sorts, with a large wooden desk, a swiveling chair, and shelves upon shelves of books. She quickly checked to see if there was anyone in the room before shouting "clear!". There was another door connecting to a smaller room, it's walls bathed in bright sunlight and smelling of soft lavender. This was clearly some sort of guest room, judging by the inconsistent decor theme. The furniture looked sleek and modern, but the sheets on the bed were soft and pastel colored. A bunch of soft toys stood leaning against the flat screen tv, and Yuri realised that this was probably the room that had been hastily fixed up for a small child's unexpected stay. And sure enough, soft strands of brown hair peaked through the large covers on the bed.

She walked over to the bed slowly, not wanting to startle the child. Yuri barely managed to stifle a gasp as she looked into the child's clear grey eyes - the same color as both Park Minhyuk and Park Jimin.

"Hello," she said, softly. "Are you Gina?"

The little girl nodded, bringing the covers closer towards her.

"I'm a police officer. I help catch bad people." She didn't respond, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Do you want to go to your dad, Gina?" She nodded vigorously, sitting up at the mention of her father. "Okay, we will. But first, tell me, are you okay? Do you feel pain anywhere?"

The little girl shook her head.

"Are you sleepy?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Are you hungry?"

Slowly, she nodded her head.

"Okay, we'll go and see your dad, and also get you something to eat. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful."

It was just after 2 pm and Yuri felt completely drained. After they had found Gina, she had insisted on returning to the station to ask Jimin about his alibi for the night of Kang Eunwoo's murder. From what she had understood, he had refused to provide an alibi to protect his brother and keep him out of the police's radar until the situation with Gina worked out. Even though she still couldn't get herself to consider him a pleasant person, his desire to protect his brother had humanized him a great deal in her eyes.

Sure enough, once he was made aware that Minhyuk had come forward and spoken about his daughter and the events of the past month and a half, Jimin looked much less hostile than before.

"I was at Sunset from around 10.30 pm to closing time - which is 2 am," he said, sighing tiredly and rubbing his face with his hands. "You can confirm with them."

While Minhyuk and Jimin's alibis were verified, Yuri received a text from Namjoon, asking her and Jeon to meet him at Seokjin's bakery. It was barely a 2 minute drive there, so Jeon suggested they get lunch over there and make it before Goh finished compiling the list of paperwork for them to finish.

The smell of freshly baked milk bread wafted out of the kitchen, adding another layer of warmth to Seokjin's cozy shop. The man in question picked up the large tray filled with various different confections, and brought it over to the table by the window.

"Peach danish and americano for Namjoon, chocolate fudge brownie and vanilla bean ice cream for Jeongguk, and a snow croissant and hot chocolate for Yuri." He placed everything on the table, before grabbing his lukewarm cup of tea and sitting down with them.

"So you finally find the child, then?" asked Seokjin, sipping the tea. He made a face at the odd taste that tea acquires when it's between comfortingly steamy and soothingly chilled.

"Yeah we did," Yuri replied, when her partner remained silent. "Goh is dealing with Minhyuk and the custody charges. It's no longer in our jurisdiction."

"Namjoon, how's grad school treating you?" Seokjin diverted the conversation, realising that his friend wasn't ready to talk about the case at that moment. "How much longer do you have?"

"A few more months and I should be done." Namjoon wiped the pastry flakes from the corner of his mouth and nearly tipped over his americano in the process. Yuri chuckled at this, suddenly remembering those random moments in high school where Namjoon was a lot thinner and less confident, but still had a propensity for knocking things over.

"Remind me why you're putting yourself through this?" Seokjin broke off a piece of the peach danish and popped it into his mouth.

"The last time I tried to explain that, you spaced out and created a new pastry recipe for your menu. As much as I like helping your business flourish, I'm gonna preserve my energy and only talk about things when necessary."

Seokjin chuckled and picked up a spoon from the dispenser. "Jeongguk, can I get a bit of ice cream from you?" There was no response, and looking at him for confirmation Seokjin's eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"Okay okay, I won't eat any of your ice cream. You don't have to tear up about it!"

Yuri and Namjoon turned towards him as well, not sure what to do when they saw tears slowly sliding down Jeongguk's cheeks.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" asked Namjoon, patting his shoulder softly.

They sat in silence, as Jeongguk sobbed softly and wiped his face with his coat sleeve. He turned towards Yuri, his eyes glazed with tears but holding a soft radiance unlike what she was used to.

"Thank you."

Yuri felt her face heat up suddenly. This wasn't what she had been expecting. The soft sincerity in his voice startled her. It was nothing like the person she had met only a week ago. She looked away abruptly and nodded her head.

"There's nothing to thank me for. This is our job."

Jeongguk smiled and resumed eating the disgustingly sweet dessert combination in front of him. He nudged Seokjin to take some ice cream like he had originally intended. There was silence once more, but this time, it was very different.

Back at the station, Yuri finished the paperwork for the day. There was a lot to complete, and since they had stopped at Seokjin's for a break, they had lost some time as well. Goh had been very clear about completing all the paperwork for social services to take over the case from them now that Gina had been found.

It was barely even 5 pm but Yuri felt a large yawn coming on for the third time in the past few minutes. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to carry on without getting proper sleep at night. At this rate, she would eventually burn out. There was only so much coffee could do for her.

A light tap brought her attention to another person standing in her cubicle. She looked up to see Jeon holding two steaming cups of ramen, tilting his head slightly to confirm whether it was okay for him to sit down.

"Did you need anything?" she asked, after moving her slightly. He placed the ramen on her desk and pulled up his own chair and sat down.

"I've got a peace offering," he gestured to the ramen. "I wanted to apologize properly for being an absolute dickhead to you. I-" He hesitated, looking down at his hands that lay clenched on his lap - "I don't really have an excuse for my behavior but I had a lot on my mind. Particularly about finding the little girl. And, well... you really don't know what solving this case means to me."

Once again, Yuri wasn't sure how to react. She felt embarrassed that he was thanking her for doing her job - something that he did as well. While she appreciated his apology, his entire being remained confusing to her.

"Don't worry about it," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "And thanks for the ramen; food is always appreciated."

Thankfully, her computer ping-ed with a new email before the atmosphere could get any more awkward.

"Okay, we've confirmed Minhyuk's alibi's for 2nd November and 15th December. He wasn't involved in either murder. Jimin was with Minhyuk till 10.15 pm on 15th December - his car's dash cam confirms that he dropped Jimin off at Sunset bar around that time."

"Fantastic! And what about the CCTV footage at Sunset? Does it confirm Jimin's story? He said he was there till 2 am."

"Hang on, I'm opening the report. Th-" she stopped abruptly, frowning at the screen.

"What?" asked Jeon, looking over her shoulder to read the email.

"CCTV footage does not place Jimin at Sunset from 10.15 pm till closing time at 2 in the morning. He doesn't have an alibi for Eunwoo's murder."

She turned to look at him, an odd sense of foreboding hitting her as she realized that they would have to charge Jimin for murder by the next evening. He held her gaze, his dark eyes reflecting a similar shadow of doubt.

please reblog and leave a comment if you liked this part! thank you! 😊

#bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #taehyung #seokjin #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #bts fluff #bts bookclub #btswritingcafe #bangtanhq #magicshopnet

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aforrestofstuff · 4 years

Note

What's the heroes' morning routine to start their day before going to work? Or their night routine before they're going to sleep? (And here is sprinkle of positivity vibes for you today: 😊😉👌💕💞💗💓💝💝💖💖🌟✨🍀🍀🍀🍀💐💐 Have a nice day! ❤)

Thanks for the request, anon! ❤️❤️ sorry this took me so long to get to, hope you’re still around!

Tornado of Terror: I’ve said in a previous hc that she sleep-levitates and wakes up in the weirdest places. So, she’d probably spend 10 straight minutes prying herself out of her bathtub or some shit with hella cramps. After that, she’d spam Fubuki over text message, asking her how to make a cup of coffee for the 57th time, then manage to burn it anyway, and finally go to work salty as fuck.

Silverfang: Wakes up at the crack of dawn, mediates next to a waterfall or some shit, broods over Garou, and makes himself a nice breakfast with a cup of tea. After that, he drags Charanko’s ass up the mountain to do some training, meditate some more, drink more tea, and around then it’s gonna be like 9 AM, so he’d probably just go the fuck back to sleep for a quick nap before actually going to work. Look, he’s old. Let him vibe.

Atomic Samurai: Also wakes the fuck up at the crack of dawn and proceeds to freeload a breakfast off of Iaian, wash it down with some alcohol at 6 in the AM, and complain about the weather. Then, he’d probably run over some sorta training routine with his disciples before doing group meditation and finally, finish it off with another drink. His tolerance is so damn high at this point. He shows up to work while pretending he wasn’t ten seconds away from getting wasted that morning.

Child Emperor: Wakes up rather early (if he even slept at all), runs diagnostics on all of his machinery, does tests on his latest weapons, takes 7 decontamination showers, and then makes himself a hearty breakfast consisting of Froot Loops and choccy milk. He shows up to work early and energized, running solely on his 87th lollipop and the single shot of espresso he had that morning. If it’s a weekday, he’d wait off on going to Association headquarters and teach a few classes at the local university instead. He’d then go to work in the middle of the day, grading papers and dying internally at the dumb shit his students say. He keeps a mental tally of how many people forget to write their names on their assignments. He’s suffering.

Metal Knight: Upon slapping the shit out of his alarm clock, he rolls out of bed and commands one of his bitchbots to make a Michelin-Star quality breakfast for him, then proceeds to stalk to the bathroom. He doesn’t shave or shower. He just takes a 45-minute shit because he’s forced himself to go to the bathroom once a day to “save time” when it, in fact, does not save time. After that, he takes a decontamination shower before entering his lab (also another 45 minutes because he’d spend the whole time je— nevermind) and doesn’t show up to work at all because he’s a little bitchboy hellbent on building Skynet in his mom’s basement.

King: Wakes up, cries, plays video games, cries some more, eats some cereal, takes a shower, cries, calls Saitama over, plays video games, Saitama leaves, cries. Then, he’ll show up to work for a single meeting at 4 PM just so everyone knows he isn’t dead, have an anxiety attack, go home, and then cry (while having another anxiety attack). After that, he’ll play video games until 3 AM. Rinse and repeat.

Zombieman: He’ll wake up at 3 AM and then sarcastically open his blinds like “oh wow, what a beautiful morning”. He’ll make himself a hearty breakfast consisting of leftovers, some protein pills, and half a pack of cigarettes. Next, he’ll shower, shave, and do some routine vigilante detective work out in the town before coming back home just as the sun is beginning to rise. After that, he’ll take a thirty second nap and walk his ass to work (because his car has been in the shop for like, seven years) so he can vibe for 3 hours before throwing in the towel and isolating himself for the remainder 18 hours of the day because depression.

Drive Knight: he sleeps plugged into the wall like a Samsung. Either that, or he’s solar-powered.... or maybe he runs on AAAs. I don’t know, but his ass ain’t waking up like everyone else. He’d power on, do some routine checkups on his laboratory or whatever the fuck he’s got going on, and then show up to work for 3 seconds only to dip the fuck back out and go poach some endangered monster species for his collection or some shit. Look, he’s a robot.

Pig God: wakes up at 10 AM like a king and eats a small breakfast consisting of three rotisserie chickens, a whole pot of rice, 57 eggs, and a cool glass of milk (because calcium is important, kids). He’d spend 4 hours on the internet before he gets hungry and decides to go outside, stopping to casually devour an entire species of demon-threat monsters in the middle of the street while simultaneously traumatizing every single child living in a 3-mile radius in the process of doing so. After that, he’d do some hero work for like 30 minutes (and somehow eat like, 200 living things in that timeframe), go back home, and then indulge himself in a 17-hour food coma. He’s earned it.

Superalloy Darkshine: Homie wakes up at 5 AM, works out for two hours, takes a shower, and eats a breakfast big enough to feed a small family of 19. After terrorizing every health expert in the country with his buckwild diet (ironic considering Pig God exists), he hits up his bro Tanktop Master for another 2-hour workout. He then proceeds to take 3 seconds getting dressed in his hero uniform because it’s literally just a thong, and goes to work for a full 8 hours because he’s a good boi who takes his job seriously and genuinely wants to make the world a better place. :)

Watchdog Man: wakes up, pisses on a fire hydrant, eats dog kibble, sits on his pedestal in city Q, and then gets dressed.

Flashy Flash: wakes up in a forest somewhere because he’s probably homeless. The local birds flock around him and sing a morning song. He feeds a baby deer like a Disney princess. Then, he bathes in a waterfall and spends two hours doing his hair. After that, he buys himself a fucking bagel and takes his ass to work smelling like the inside of a Cabella’s. He vibes at HQ for like, 30 minutes, before traveling 500 miles away on his 57th quest for revenge and ends up breaking a record for “most homicides committed by a hero” on the way there.

Genos: wakes up, makes breakfast for Saitama, takes a shower, and spends half an hour doing chores while Saitama bums around with a yolk stain on his pajamas. Then, he’d hit up the professor for any news about upgrades, and go on about his day handing out justice as he sees fit until Saitama suddenly gets the urge to go buy some cabbage. It’ll be another 2 hours of walking around the inside of a grocery store while holding 2 grams of food (because it’s all Saitama could afford, broke ass) before he actually goes to hero HQ for a single meeting (while Saitama tags along), and then slaughter 87 monsters on his way home.

Metal Bat: wakes up at 6 AM because it takes him 8 years to do his hair. He’d wake up Zenko about an hour later and tell her to get ready for school while he hauls ass downstairs to make breakfast (burnt toast and 8 Flinstone vitamins). They walk to Zenko’s school together. He takes ten minutes to shower her with love, and then he turns back around to walk to his own school only to show up like, 45-minutes late to his first class. He only attends hero meetings on weekends because A. Homework and B. He doesn’t give enough of a shit to juggle official hero business and school in the same day (unless it consists of a monster/criminal [or 12] in need of a beating).

Tanktop Master: same as Superalloy. He wakes up at dawn, works out, eats enough to feed a small army, and then calls his actual army over for a meeting. He and the gang discuss ways to better represent the Tanktop ideology over tea, while also sharing workout tips and just having a good time together in general. Around then it’ll probably be 8 or 9 AM, so he’d join Superalloy at Hero HQ and do hero work for the rest of the day alongside his homies. He’s living the life, honestly.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: he’s in prison so he’d wake up at 8 AM on the clock every day, eat his nasty-ass breakfast (although, I’ve said in a previous headcanon that he gets special meals prepared for him on account of being a literal superhero, but I digress), and then he works out in the courtyard for a good hour before going to work in the cafeteria for 3 bucks a day (or the yen equivalent). During visiting hours, he and his boyfriend are inseparable. They’d make some crafts together, gossip, and just hang out. If there’s a threat in the area, Puri will waste no time busting himself out and hugging that shit to death. A true icon.

Amai Mask: he either wakes up at 10 AM or 2 PM every day, there’s no in-between. He’d spend his morning doing every self-care routine under the sun: taking a warm bath, doing a face mask, eating a good breakfast (prepared by his own personal chef, of course), listening to an audio book, you name it. If he has a concert that night, he’d spend the entire day surrounded by people as he gets ready/rehearses/prepares. If not, he’ll just patrol the streets, handing out autographs and some slices of justice. He wouldn’t really show up to any meetings or do official hero business at HQ unless he’s in the mood to cuss out Sekingar and Sitch over some stupid shit or insert himself in S-Class business.

Iaian: wakes up earlier than any of the other disciples and Atomic Samurai because he’s like, responsible or whatever. He meditates, showers, does his own personal routine, and then kicks everyone out of bed for breakfast like an angry suburban mom. After that, he’d participate in everyone’s routine training, and then take his ass to work while showing up to every meeting at HQ (sometimes tagging along with Kami) because he’s a good boi and he has no problem engaging in business. :)

Okamaitachi: She sometimes wakes up with Iaian, but sleeps in most of the time because she needs her beauty rest, obviously. After breakfast and participating in everyone’s training routine, she’d do her hair/makeup and go do her own hero work the majority of the time. She’d sometimes tag along with Iaian, but she prefers to go on her own every so often. If she has some extra time before breakfast, she’ll also do a face mask or catch up on her favorite soap operas.

Bushidrill: this motherfucker sleeps like a log and Iaian wants to kill him for it. He wakes up like, 2 seconds before breakfast and hasn’t shaven in a month. Still, somehow, he manages to get ready in time for training without Kami trying to assault him for being a doofus.

Fubuki: She wakes up hella early and texts her herd of hooligans the daily plan before dealing with Tatsumaki’s shit over the phone. Then, she showers, does her hair, and takes fifteen minutes to get her makeup done right. It doesn’t take her long to plan out her outfit because she has like, 87 black dresses. After an actual hearty breakfast (unlike the rest of these clowns) that she makes herself, she meets up with the blizzard group to discuss business and engage in hero work together as a ✨team✨. She never gets asked to participate in official business by HQ because Tatsumaki strictly forbids it.

Saitama: he brushes his hair and sits on his ass all day.

Mumen Rider: wakes up at dawn, feeds the cats outside, eats a good-ass breakfast (despite being poor, because he’s actually really good at budgeting), and goes out for a nice, morning patrol. He’ll also call his mom and make sure she’s having a good time because that’s important. If it’s not a busy day, he’ll go to the gym and treat himself to some time at the park afterwards. If there’s monsters all about, he’ll spend the rest of the day in the hospital after getting his shit rocked for the 300th time that week. They’ve basically got a bed reserved for him at this point. He’s so pure but so, so selfless. And a little dumb. But mostly selfless.

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ofstoriesandstardust · 3 years

Text

discovery

a/n: I posted the first chapter and was overwhelmed by the fact that people actually liked it??? that I decided to ignore my homework that I definitely should be doing to write this. this chapter definitely plays more on SVU, so sorry for the name-drop of people you may not know if you aren’t an SVU fan

main masterlist | the choices we make masterlist | story description | what’s left of us | recognize you

summary: ADA Gray is thriving, just ask any of her fellow ADAs or the detectives at Manhattan’s Special Victims Unit. So shouldn’t the discovery of a brother she never knew about make her feel like her world is collapsing in on her?

warnings: reference to TUA canon death/murders, swearing

word count: 1,587

Elena laughed, holding the door open for Detectives Sonny Carisi and Fin Tutuloa to follow her in the building. Fin had just made a snarky comment that had caused Sonny to roll his eyes and for the blonde to start laughing. She waved to Angela, the woman who worked at the front desk of 1 Hogan Place. The detectives followed her to her office, where they were planning to meet Barba, Liv, and Amanda to discuss to the latest on one of their cases. It had been a complicated case, and a bit of a high profile one, so the DA had assigned both Barba and Elena to work on the case with the SVU detectives. Stone had been gone on vacation when it had happened, thus it was Elena’s case as she worked both Homicide and SVU cases.

She approached Lucy, who had quickly become one of her closest friends after getting a job as an ADA. “Hey Lucy.” She greeted. The girl smiled.

“You have a letter.” Lucy said, pulling a draw open and retrieving an envelope from inside. She turned in confusion, moving away from the office door to grab the letter from Lucy. At that moment, Barba, Liv, and Amanda approached the desk, ready for their meeting. “No Dodds?” Lucy asked as Elena grabbed the letter from her outstretched hand. Liv shook her head.

“No, he’s on a trip.”

“How was court?” Rafael asked, and Elena shrugged.

“It was court. You know the usual.” Elena’s eyes never tore away from the letter. It just had her first and last name written on, in a somewhat sprawling handwriting. “Lucy, who’s this from?” Elena asked, the curiosity rising in her voice. She sighed.

“That’s the interesting thing.” Elena’s eyes flicked up to meet her friend’s but only for a moment. “Luther Hargreeves dropped that off. Wanted to make sure it got to you.” Elena’s head shot up. “Mhmm, that’s what I was thinking.” Elena shook her head.

“Strange.” She said, moving to open the door of her office. The detectives followed her in and she moved to her desk, pulling off her jacket. It was an unusually chilly day in the city for almost June.

“Wonder what Luther Hargreeves wants with you.” Liv said, setting a file down on the desk. Elena shrugged.

“Maybe one of his siblings got in trouble again and he’s come to ask for your expertise lawyer help.” Amanda joked and Elena laughed.

“Probably.” She said as she sat down, tossing the letter on her desk.

“Man I still can’t believe both of them got off.” Fin said pulling a chair up to the desk. Carisi shook his head.

“Wonder what the DA was thinking. Oh sure, we’ll just ignore the fact that these people committed crimes because they’re special.” Carisi said, the disgust evident in his voice. The Hargreeves cases had left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, but especially in New York’s legal field and police officers.

“Didn't you use to love Allison’s movies?” Amanda replied, shooting Sonny a look.

“Yeah, but then her brother went and killed a cop. And got away with it.” Sonny said, as he sat down. “Plus, after that custody battle, what she did to her kid... she’s not someone I want to support.” Barba made a face of agreement as he sat down directly across from Elena.

“Alright, the Taylor’s case. What do you have?” Elena asked, diverting their attention to the important matter at hand.

Elena sighed, pulling her hair up into a ponytail as her food cooked in the oven. It had been one of those days and she had just gotten back to her apartment, so pizza rolls for dinner it was. Barba often teased her for eating like a college student but she always shot back that at least she wasn’t shelling out a good chunk of money on sushi all the time. As her food cooked, she shifted through the files she had brought back with her, intending to do a bit more work before heading to bed for the night. The letter she had so quickly forgotten about from earlier in the day slipped out and she picked it up. She took a deep breath as her thumb slid through the top. She pulled the paper out and unfolded it. Holy shit.

Hi,

My name’s Luther. Well, you probably already know that I guess. I’m sure you’ve heard about my siblings and I from our superhero days, if not from the days of Diego running from the police and Allison’s stardom. If you haven’t, then I guess I should explain it. My name’s Luther Hargreeves, and I’m Number One out of 7 from The Umbrella Academy. On October 1st, 1989, we were all born to women who weren't previously pregnant, all at the same time. There was 43 of us, in total, as we just learned. Our father, Reginald Hargreeves, who was a millionaire, offered large sum of money to our mothers for us and turned us into his superhuman crimefighting soldiers by the time we were teens.

The reason I’m telling you this is because we recently found all our files with our information about our biological parents, which is how I found you. You’re my sister, my biological one. And, I’d love a relationship with you, if you want that. If not, please feel free to disregard this letter like you never read it.

Luther

He left what she was assuming was his phone number at the bottom of the paper. Elena dropped the paper on to the counter, taking a shaky breath, gripping the counter. Luther.. her brother? Unlikely... and yet, not impossible. She had always felt there was something about her parents divorce they weren’t telling her. But still, she’d grown up low income most of her life, and had only become financially stable once she’d secured her job as an ADA. The DA’s office paid a pretty penny, thankfully. So the question was, where’d that sum of money go?

The real question was, did she want to reach out to him? She was curious about him, especially because she didn’t talk to her other siblings. He probably had million of questions about their family, rightfully so. But his family did not have a good reputation. Allison had had a very public and nasty custody battle that had dragged out everything. Vanya had killed her boyfriend, albeit the case seemed to scream self defense. Diego had killed a cop for goodness sake... but even then the facts of the case seemed so murky to everyone outside of Diego’s legal team and the investigators. Establishing a relationship with Luther, getting involved with that family, she might as well kiss her job goodbye. Jack McCoy, Manhattan District Attorney, had made it abundantly clear where he stood on the line of the Hargreeves. If he knew, well, it would be bye-bye to the best job she’d ever had and all the friends, the family, she’d made here in New York. The oven beeped, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, moving to grab the food. What was she going to do?

She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she took a sip of her soda, waiting for Luther. It had taken a few days but she had called him early one morning, asking if he wanted to meet for lunch that day. He had agreed, and at the time she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement that she was going to actually meet him. But as time passed and he hadn’t showed, she was starting to wonder if this was some sort of test from the DA’s office to see where her loyalties lied... or something. It sounded ridiculous, she knew that, but she couldn’t keep her brain from wandering. She glanced at the time on her phone again and sighed. He wasn’t late by any means, she was just ridiculously early. After hours, it seemed, which was probably only ten minutes or so, a large man walked into the restaurant and her heart skipped a beat. That had to be him. His eyes scanned the area until he turned to the hostess. The hostess led him to where she sat and he smiled at her tentatively as he sat down. The place was nice, situated outside, and it was a warm day, making the noise of New York City that much livelier as people walked past, enjoying the day. She’d chosen it specifically because of that, and the fact that it was out fo the way of the courthouse and precinct, meaning there was a low chance anyone from work would see her. She offered him a nervous smile as she took in his appearance. Large build, blonde hair (like hers), brown eyes (what color were her eyes again?), tall. She vaguely heard the hostess ask for what he’d like to drink and him responding with water. he turned his attention back to her. “Hi, I’m Luther.”

“Elena.” she said, nodding at him. She took in a deep breath, folding her hands. “I’m sure you have lots of questions.” He nodded. “Well, ask away.” He took a deep breath, seemingly trying to figure what to ask first.

“So... DA’s office, huh?” She nodded. “And three siblings, can’t imagine that was a peaceful household.” She chuckled, shaking her head.

“I don’t think we ever stopped fighting.” He laughed.

“Try six.” He joked, and she laughed freely.

“I couldn’t even begin to imagine.”

#the choices we make #luther hargreeves #luther hargreeves fics #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fics #law and order special victims unit #law and order special victims unit fics

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