#(gimme credit for this one I can barely look at the finale without screaming like Alex DeLarge and/or lobotomized!Cas)

[deancasforcutie]

2.18 Hollywood Babylon // Supernatural’s metanarrative on the Network Fuckery™

rip in pieces cw 😘🖕

#supernatural #spn #destiel #spnedit #spn meta #intertextuality #2.18 #15.20 #mine #(gimme credit for this one I can barely look at the finale without screaming like Alex DeLarge and/or lobotomized!Cas)

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ JUST ONE NIGHT ❜

Part III

with Johnny ‘Coco’ Cruz.

Warnings: angst af, not sorry.

Word count: 2k

Chapter Index.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @fromthesixteenthfloor

Masterlist.

Maybe you should have accepted the invitation from Mardi, your best friend, staying at Santo Padre instead of occupying your parent's house in San Diego. But the pain was too strong to stay there, with the risk of finding Coco walking through the streets or driving his motorbike. You haven't known anything about him for the past five days, and if you've been about to call him hundreds of times, fortunately you haven't. The one who has tried to put in contact with you has been Bishop. He has called for the last two days. But, what would have solved answering the call? Probably nothing. So you just let your phone ring, having a sip from the last bottle of tequila left.

Alcohol isn't the solution, but it's enough to hush your demons, alleviate the pain and make you sleep. So you have been drowned in a bucle of drinking the mexican drink for excellence the whole day, until your body asks you to stop and the hangover hits your head with painful lashes. Since you met him, you have been dreaming about a life together, about trips, about days at home doing nothing, about helping him every time he feels down. About whatever. But he was right. You knew about club shit when you started dating. What you weren't expecting was the kind of things he told you last time you were together. You don't need Coco to be on you the whole time, but if you read your text messages, every twenty yours there's one from him just sayin ‘yeah’ and ‘no’. That's all.

He wasn't busy with his own business to see what he was doing, and you were living it. You were sleeping alone, not knowing anything about his situation. You were passing the days alone, waiting for anything, with the anxiety and the sadness oppressing anatomy, squeezing your heart without mercy. But you loved him. You kept trying to hold him, to save him somehow, until you understood that there's no salvation for someone who doesn't want to be saved.

Cleaning a wild tear, you step out from the sofa, grabbing your house keys and your credit card to get out from it. You truly look like a mess, wearing a pair of long grey sweatpant, a white long shirt and some sneakers. Your hair is tied in an undone bump, no makeup in your face, but two black marks under your eyes. Almost dragging your feet on the ground, you lead your steps to the nearest shop to buy more tequila and maybe something to eat, because you have forgotten when was the last time you had a decent meal.

“Do you know what you're gonna tell her?” Angel drives by his side and behind Bishop, Tranq and Taza, highing his voice over the engine's buzz.

“No!” He just utters under the black bandana.

It only took Miguel five minutes to find you, after checking that you didn't cross the border to Tijuana and that your parent's house in San Diego was having in use the electric and water suministers. Packer sent someone to assure that you were really there, before giving Bishop the green light. Coco has never been more nervous than today, about to reach the place, trying to not think in a speech. He wants to tell you what he really feels from heart, without planning absolutely nothing. He wants to be sincere with you and finally break down the walls around him to let you come in. The last days have been an odyssey for him, being controlled every single second by the crew to not do any crazy shit, after hearing him asking to let him die. And, of course, it's going to be worse in case you declined the idea of coming back to Santo Padre with him, giving Coco a second chance. That's what it hurts the most, the fact that he believes you're not going to open him the door or, if you do, it's going to ask him to go to hell.

Reaching the white house with a blue rooftop, the Mayans park their bikes next to the sidewalk, under the attentive, confused and scared gazes from your neighbors. Getting up from them and taking off the helmets, to leave them over the seats, Angel palms his back trying to cheer him up and give him the strength and the motivation he needs to begin walking through the paved road breaking the garden in two sides. Brushing his hair back, followed by his brothers, he takes a long breath before calling the doorbell. One time, two times… Eight times. Coco understands that you don't want to see him, huffing resigned, but when he's about to turn around and leave the porch, Angel forces him to keep trying.

“Mami… It's me, Coco”. He says biting his bottom lip and licking his incisors. No answer. “Listen, I just… 'am sorre' 'bout all the shit I made. 'Bout pushing you away, 'bout talking you with those… fuckin' manners and 'bout forgetting the most special day of my life. 'Am so fuckin' sorry”.

Nothing. Not a single sound by the other side of the door.

“Keep trying, Coco”. Gilly whispers narrowing his left shoulder.

“Yo, ah… 'am fuckin' sorre'... I know you deserve better. I know you deserve someone who lives for you, for makin' you happy, for takin' care of you, and I know I didn'. And maybe it's too late to regret but… I will keep the promise of changin', of being a better man for you. The one you deserve. Just… fuck, please… Give me a second chance”. His voice breaks as he talks, feeling the tears piling up in his eyes because he doesn't have any answer from you. “Lis—Listen. Prez gave me some time out an—”.

“Yes, I did, kid”. Bishop interrupts him for a second, trying to be helpful.

“And you know… You have told me a lot of times that… you wou—would like to go to Disney and… I was thinken' about… goin'. Together. Onle' you and me, (Y/N). We can go on my bike, or… or in your car, or… use mine… I don' care, I don' give a shit, I will carry you from Cali to Orlando walking if you ask me for”.

Coco is about to cry from one time to another, feeling Angel gently caressing his back. He, better than anyone, knows how much he loves you and how much he cares about you. And maybe his friends didn't do the correct thing with you, but he's badly trying to fix up things between you two.

“Do you… Do you know that if yo—you shout ‘Andy is comen'’ all those… idiots from Toy Story have to fall down? Jus—Just imagine us sitting on a bench… screaming it the whole time, or… following them around the park…”

The guys can't help but chuckle, because they know you two are really capable of spending a day like that. Like two children.

“And you can… put me one of these... fuckin' Mickey's ears. I promise I won't complain”. He sighs bowing his head down, with a disgusting pain getting installed inside his throat. “And… there are a lot… of things about Marvel too… and shows and… a lot of things”.

Coco is breaking into pieces being ignored by you, starting to cry like a hurt kid. He's aware he has lost the best person he could find on earth. His soulmate. His best friend. He knows that it's only his fault. He can't blame his family, nor the club. Because it was enough to sleep with you at home, instead of staying at the scrapping. It was enough texting you one time a day.

“Fu—Fuck, mami, 'am realle' sorre'... You don' have to say something now… but, I don' know… maybe in some days. Now 'am feelin' what you felt and… it's a damn shit… 'am fuckin' sorre', I swear. I never meant to… you through this”. Hardly sniffing and barely breathing, he cleans the tears running down his face. “I will… stay around, in a hotel… if you wanna call me, or… maybe see me to talk alone… I don' know… whatever you want… Or, if you want me to go… ju—just tell me and I will… leave you in peace”.

“Let's go, Coco…”Taza says, placing a hand on his nape.

“No, no… What if I ju—just wait here, till she opens me the door?”

“It's better if you give her some time to think about it”. Bishop shakes his head for a second.

“Yeah, but… what if I ju—I just stay here? Maybe she… doesn't want to talk 'bout us because you're here”. He insists, but Angel is not going to let him do that, surrounding his shoulders with an arm.

“She will call you, hermano. You will see, ah? Seein' you on Mickey's ears worth it.” The oldest Reyes says then, turning around to come back to their bikes.

You are there. Standing up in silence at the beginning of the garden. You have been there the whole time, listening every word Coco said. His wide eyes are fixed on yours, holding a box of Don Julio between your arms, and a big cardboard bag full of doughnuts of different flavors hanging from your closed teeth. Angel pushes him with both palms on his back, forcing his brother to walk towards you. Spitting the bag over the box of tequila, EZ comes closer to grab them and free your hands, before throwing your keys to his old brother.

“The kitchen is at the end of the hallway”. You just say, waiting for them to come in.

“(Y/N), 'am so—”.

“I heard everything you said”. Interrupting him, you close both arms over your chest, wrinkling your nose. Trying to process everything. “The night of our anniversary, I was about to ask you to marry me. One day I went to the clubhouse and heard you talking with Angel, because you were scared of me thinking you were crazy for proposing. So, I was about to do it”.

“I wan'et. I wanna marry you and… being together all my life”.

“You fucked me up badly, Johnny. Really fucking bad”.

“I know, I know… But, please. Gimme a last chance, ain't fuck it up again. And I know you don' believe me, I get it, I earned that shit, but I will show you every day, mami. No more nights out of our home. No more days without calling or texting you, I will do it every hour. And I will not… talk to you again like a fuckin' shit”. He looks and sounds sincere, with his reddened eyes begging you. And you're conscious that Coco is as destroyed inside as you are. “Please…”

Heavily sighing and rubbing your forehead, you lean forward to kiss his cheek, before surrounding him with both arms to hug him tightly.

“I fuckin' love you, (Y/N)”. He cries now, collapsing under your grip without can't avoid it.

“I know, Coquito”. You whisper caressing his messy hair, pushing him closer.

Feeling him again is like coming back to life, kissing once and once his face and trying to clean his tears, breaking you a little watching him like that. Clinging his hands in your thighs, he urges you to wrap his waist with both legs.

“And of course I want to marry you, shithead”. You say, making him chuckle between tears, sinking his face into your neck.

“I love you more than anythen', I swear to God. And I will… make you happy as you deserve”.

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @claytoncardenasbabymama @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @tranqs-main-mami @skyofficialxx

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#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #johnny coco cruz x reader #johnny coco cruz imagine #coco cruz imagine #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz

[marvelship-oneshots]

EMERGENCY WEDDING 1 (WINTERIRON)

PART 1 OF 2 AU where Tony and Bucky get married in order not to be forced t testify against each other in court (part 1 of 2) [2.5k words]

Bucky's brain was numb. He was walking in the rain, with no destination, looking at the blood being washed from his hands by the rain. How could something like that happen? How could they think he could do something like that? He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that his best friend was gone and never coming back. The thought of having literally his blood all over his body made his sick to his stomach, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to react. He saw his body laying in a puddle of his own blood on the floor of his apartment and he didn't scream, he didn't cry, his brain just shut down. He had no memories of what he did from that moment to the moment he heard the sirens coming for him. Then, he ran until he was far enough from the city. Now, he didn't know where he was, but the police was not following him anymore, that was good. Eventually, he stopped running and started walking along the desert highway, despite the rain falling down on him. Bucky had no idea of what he would do after, nor of where he was going.

Tony needed a break. His life in the city was becoming overwhelming and he just needed to pull the plug for a while. So he hopped in his car and started driving without a destination. AC/DC was playing in the car at full blast while Tony drove down the highway. His mind was focused only on the song, the road was silent and empty. Somehow, driving in the rain, singing whatever song was blasting, in the dark of the night, had always relaxed him. He could barely see the road in front of him and he knew that he should pay more attention to what he was doing, but against his better judgment, he kept focusing on his own thoughts. It couldn't do any good, and he knew it. He was not looking at the road when something, or rather someone, crossed right i front of his car. He didn't see it coming and he didn't stop, basically running over it. He thought it was some kind of wild animal, a deer maybe, but he never would expect to find a full grown man laying on the street. Bucky didn't know why he crossed the road as soon as he heard a car passing by. He just did it. No wonder why he car ran over him. Sony stopped the car and ran out, hoping he ran over a animal and not a person. Bucky was laying on the road, bruised and exhausted. He thought he could die right there, after all, no one would have missed him, every single police officer thought he was a serial killer. Maybe, that was the only way to get out of that situation. Tony kneeled by Bucky's side, bending over him to check if he was still breathing. He was. However, he was covered in blood. "C'mon buddy, wake up, don't die on me" Tony shook him, trying to wake him up. Bucky finally opened his eyes and let out a growl. Tony sighed in relief. "C'mon let me take you to the hospital" said Tony, helping the strange man getting up. He was massive compared to Tony, he wasn't more than two inches taller than him, but he had very board shoulders that made him looked like a giant compared to Tony's figure. Tony helped him getting in the car. "No, no hospital, literally anywhere else, possibly out of the state" Tony sighed, sitting behind the wheel and turning the music back on. They drove in silence, well, Bucky was silent, Tony was humming along the songs, and stopped only when they found a motel. Tony booked a room for the two of them, he didn't want to leave him alone, he was possibly injured. Little did they know, that was the beginning of an amazingly crazy adventure. Bucky settled in the room and went to take a shower. Tony went out to grab something to eat and medical supplies. If Bucky didn't want to go to the hospital, he would bring the hospital to him. Bucky let his t-shirt fall on the ground. His whole body as covered in dry blood. He honestly didn't know if it was his or Steve's. He couldn't stare at himself in the mirror. Bucky slowly walked into the shower and let the shower run over him, washing away the blood. He leaned against the wall, letting himself fall on the floor. He took his hand into his head and finally let himself go. The only reason he knew he was crying was the salty taste of the tears falling in his mouth.

When Tony came back, Bucky was sitting on the bed, blankly looking at the wall in front of him. "Hey man, I bought you a cheeseburger" Tony said, sitting down next to him and handing him a burger. Bucky nodded and started to slowly unwrap it.  "By the way, I'm Tony" he introduced himself, reaching out for him. "James, but friends call me Bucky" Steve was the one to give him his nickname. He smiled at the memory and a single tear fell on his face. "I'm...uhm I'm sorry I ran over you" Bucky shook his shoulders. "I crossed the road, jumping in front of your car" "Are you hurt? I saw a lot of blood" Tony asked concerned. "No, I'm fine" Tony scoffed and turned n the TV. The news were on. Tony looked at the TV then at Bucky and then back at the TV. "Uhm, Bucky, why is your face on the news?"  "What?" Bucky turned towards Tony, took the remote and turned the volume up. "Shit shit shit fuck" On the screen there was Bucky's picture with a gigantic red WANTED written under it. "Care to explain what that is about?" "It's not what it looks like, I swear" "Oh I see, so you're face is not on the national TV and you are not wanted for murder" "No" Tony raised his eyebrow "Well yes, but also no" "Are you going to kill me?" "What? NO!" Tony let out a loud sigh. "Ok, now that I can relax, explain" "I've been framed for a series of murders, including my best friend's" Bucky sat on Tony's bed and Tony scooted closer to him, putting a hand on his thigh. "I'm immensely sorry" Bucky looked at Tony with a mall smile. "It's ok" "What's gonna happen now?" Tony asked "I mean, you are running from the police and I helped you, so this makes me an accessory to the crime. What's gonna happen now? Are we going to live on the run?" Bucky chuckled. "I'm sorry I put you in this position. And I don't know how we're going to get out of this" Tony lightly smiled and walked out of the room, coming back a few minutes later with a bottle of whiskey. He poured some in two glasses and passed one to Bucky. "Ok, first thing first, gimme your credit card and SIM card. We'll leave here here, from now on only cash. we're going to move every couple of days, with disguises." Bucky sipped on his whiskey, looking at Tony in awe. "Then, we have to understand who is trying to frame you. Suspects, leads whatever pops in your mind, you write them here" Tony said slapping a pack of sticky notes on the table. "Questions?" "Yes" Bucky smiled "Why do you have sticky notes laying around?" Tony laughed, tucking himself into the bed. "Seriously though, thank you, you don't have to do this. No one knows that you helped me" "Oh please stop it, we're in this together. Now go to sleep, we're leaving early tomorrow" Bucky chuckled. "Yessir" _____________________________________________________________________ "Ok, so we have a bunch of suspects that are totally unchained from each other. This means we have no lead" Bucky nodded, looking at the binder full of colourful sticky notes he and Tony had composed in the past weeks. Bucky threw himself on the bed, covering his face with his hands. "We're screwed" The TV was on on the news, now next to Bucky's face there was Tony's. "Every single piece of evidence they have is against me and once they get to us they will offer you plea deal to turn on me because let's admit it, I dragged you into this and you have no reason at all" Bucky caved into his pillow. "Then I'll be double screwed" Tony rolled his eyes and walked over to Bucky's bed, sitting next to him and started stroking his hair. "Buck, I might have an idea" Bucky looked up. "We're in this mess together and together we're getting out. See, I have a little bit of law training and there is this thing that will ensure that we're not forced to turn on each other" "And why didn't you say it sooner?" Bucky asked sitting up. "Yeah right. It's called spouse privilege. Essentially, if we're married, no one can force me to turn on you and vice versa" Bucky jumped up and started pacing up and down the room, in silence, with his hands in is hair. He slowly walked over to Tony and kneeled in front

of him. "Tony, will you marry me?" he asked taking one of his hands. Tony started laughing."Yes, yes I will Buckaroo" Bucky sat on the bed ad let himself fall on his back. Tony laid next to him . "Are we really doing this?" Bucky asked. "You'll have to break up with me, because now I am your fiancé" The two laughed. "You would have liked him" said Bucky after a moment of silence. Tony turned his head to look at Bucky. "Steve. You would have liked Steve" Tony nodded. "He was my best friend in the whole world, how could they think I've killed him? Why would I have killed my best friend?" Bucky started sobbing loudly in Tony's chest. Tony gently stroke his long hair until Bucky fell asleep, snuggled against him.

Bucky and Tony pulled out their best clothes - jeans and a white shirt- and pulled up at the docks. There the officiant who was supposed to marry them was waiting for them in front of his boat. Tony had found him on the internet the night before and had booked a wedding. Tony squeezed Bucky's hand before walking up to the man, giving him a reassuring glaze. "Do you, James Buchanan Barnes, take Anthony Edward Stark as your lawfully wedded husband?" Bucky looked at Tony in the eyes. Tony nodded. "I do" he said, moving Tony's ring from his index to his ring finger. "Do you, Anthony Edward Stark, take James Buchanan Barnes as your lawfully wedded husband?" "I do" he said smiling, putting the ring on Bucky's finger. "By the power vested in me by the State of Missouri, I now pronounce you husband and husband" Tony took Bucky's hand, gently squeezing it as the officiant handed then the marriage certificate. Tony left the man the cash they agreed on and the newly weds ran to their car. Tony started driving, smiling at the road. "Are you ok?" he asked Bucky. "This is weird, right? We barely know each other and we got married" Tony chuckled. "It's like you've never heard of an arranged marriage" Bucky gently hit Tony's shoulder. "This is nothing like an arranged marriage and you know it"

They had been driving for the whole morning, making hypothesis on new leads, unfortunately running in circles. "If we turn ourselves in, or let them find us, maybe we'll be able to have more resources and actually get something done" "You want them to catch us?" Tony nodded. "You're out of your mind. I would be risking death row here" Tony shook his head. "No you wouldn't. You supposedly committed the crimes in New York, we will be judged there, so no death penalty for you." "Are you sure? It can go extremely wrong, at least now we're...free" Tony pulled over by the side of the road. "We don't have the resources here to sort this out, if they catch us, maybe we can have a shot" "What if we don't?" Tony shook his head and made a hand gesture meaning that it was not the time to be pessimistic. "It's prison Tony" "Buck, you're my husband now, you're basically a Stark. My father's name still holds a certain power" Bucky looked at him. "Ok, we're doing this" Tony took out his phone, put in the sim card he had been saving and dialed Pepper's number. "Tony...WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" Pepper screamed as soon as sh picked up. Bucky could hear her even if she wasn't on speaker. "Pep, I'm in a huge fucking mess" "Yeah, I know. You have some explaining to do" "Yes, I know, but now is not the time. Get the lawyers ready" A few minutes after Tony closed the call, they heard the police sirens behind them. Tony and Bucky looked at each other, smiling. Tony pressed on the gas pedal, exceeding the speed limit. "You know the phrase forget and it will go away? Well, it does NOT apply to being chased by police cars, trust me on this one" Tony said laughing, turning he volume up. Tony looked at Bucky. He looked scared. Tony held his hand, bringing it to his mouth ad leaving a small kiss on the top of it. "I'm on the highway to hell" Tony started singing along the AC/DC song that was blasting. "On the highway to hell" Bucky started singing along. When the song was over, Tony and Bucky looked at each other and Tony pulled over. The police cars stopped behind them. "Come out of the car, hands where I can see them" Tony and Bucky opened the door, slowly stepping out of the car, with their hands behind their heads. "You're under arrest, You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time." the officers declared, while closing the handcuffs around Tony and Bucky's wrists. The officers pushed them into the car ad drove them to the closest police station, waiting to be escorted to New York. Tony took Bucky's hand. "It's going to be ok, i promise"

#buckytony #bucky barnes #tony stark #tonybucky #tony x bucky #bucky x tony #winteriron #starkbucks

[poisonedapples]

The Core Four

The beginning of the Core Four AU

Summary: There’s trouble going on at Quinn’s Jewelry Store in downtown Midbay. So clearly, the solution is to have a group of four superheroes come to the rescue.

Pairings: Familial LAMP

Trigger Warnings: Guns, shooting (but no one gets shot), injuries (especially burn and head injuries), a car almost crashing, robberies, death talk, unconsciousness, capslock, slight blood mentions

Notes: Remember that project I’ve been mentioning these last few months? With the superheroes? It begins >:P

Also, big thanks to @hanramz-the-fander for editing it but you really didn’t need to do it at midnight dsjkhjkfldskljkfls

Taglist: @romansleftshoulderpad @jynxlovesluck @aro-patton @dr-gloom

Josie Quinn knows the probability of having a store with expensive goods like hers being robbed, but usually when she feels anxious about going to work, the day proves her fears to just be meaningless anxiety. A calm day describing rings to men and women alike possibly looking to have a fiancé soon, people complaining about prices, it’s a routine at this point. Robbery isn’t something she’s experienced before, even on the days a suspecting pit was in her stomach.

But this day, Quinn really wished people in modern times could go back to robbing banks.

She was restocking in the back since the store was empty, doing meaningless tasks just to let the day go by. It took a few seconds after hearing a strange click from the store and a male voice yelling “GET OVER HERE NOW” for her to realize what was happening. Walking slowly out of the storage room with her hands up, Quinn was met with a large man dressed in all black pointing his gun directly at her. The alarms were already blaring loudly in the store from his other men busting the cases and putting anything shiny in the large sacks they were all holding. 

The man aimed his gun closer to her. “Gimme all the money you have in there, now.”

Quinn ignored her shaky hands as she placed everything she could offer right into the bag, the cash adding up to hardly anything considering most people pay with credit cards. When the man realized how little there was in the bag, he scowled and slammed his hand on the counter. Quinn jumped.

“Go in the back,” he growled, “If you bring me everything then you might get out of here alive.”

She wasn’t able to speak, only taking quick but careful steps into the back room again without saying a word. In a frantic haste on deciding how to take all the boxes to the man as quick as possible, Quinn ended up shakily grabbing as many of the padded boxes as she could carry, piling them on top of each other. With a few larger boxes and some small ones previously wrapped neatly for pickup, she walked back to the counter to set them in front of the man.

And when she did, her heart stopped.

The robber was confused and growing impatient at her sudden stop, but Quinn couldn’t help it. Her eyes were blown wide in disbelief when two men suddenly appeared behind the robber out of thin air, both of them wearing similar costumes besides for the different shades of blue, one was obviously more decorated than the other. They both had the same dark skin color only visible on the slight slip of skin where the bottom of their mask couldn’t reach, their faces covered entirely and eyes impossible to see. But even so, Quinn could still tell based on one of the man’s body posture that he was giddy.

And to be fair, so was she. Staring ahead in awe despite the circumstances, eyes blown wide. Because she’s never been this close to the Colored Spirits before.

Quinn knew exactly who they were. Two superheroes of a local group that were known for always being close together, always working in perfect synchronization. The giddy one in the lighter blues was Maya Spirit, his cooler companion known as Navy Spirit. She’d seen all the talk shows and online articles about their powers before; connecting so closely that one couldn’t use them without the other. People observing how they could only disappear if they were making physical contact with each other in some way, most commonly by holding hands. They would touch and disappear, then reappear when they separated once more.

And they were right here, in her shop!

All these thoughts and observations raced so quickly through Quinn’s head in just a second, but the robber wasn’t patient enough for even that. “I literally have a damn gun at your face, are you stupid!? Go to the fucking back, get me more shit!”

Her eyes finally snapped back at him, the robber’s gun getting closer to her face as he grew more impatient. For a second Quinn thought the last thing she was going to see was this very scene; a gun in her face with two superheroes right behind her killer.

But right before the trigger could be pulled, Navy grabbed the arm of the man and twisted it up, Quinn flinching back a bit at the loud noise of a gunshot going off right into her ceiling. The man frantically looked around the store for whatever grabbed his arm, but no one was there.

“What…?” He whispered to himself, turning back to Quinn with her hands on her ears and her heart pounding. He opened his mouth to speak, to let out his confusion with rage and impatience, but then a hand grabbed at his hair and smacked his head right into the counter.

Oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my-

“Fuck!” The robber stumbled to the side and almost fell to the floor from the impact, gripping the counter before he could fall and pointing his gun at the Colored Spirits. The two of them disappeared again the moment the gun went off, reappearing behind him and punching him right in the back of the head. He groaned as he fell to the floor with his eyesight spinning, shooting his gun off frantically in an attempt to get just one hit. Just one. 

Quinn screamed and took a duck for cover with her hands shielding her head. Loud bangs continued to go off, but the robber didn’t even realize his targets were gone again.

But through the gunshots there was a loud, over-dramatic battle cry right before the bangs finally stopped, followed by the sound of someone getting smacked right into the brick wall. A groan was the only new noise in the silence after the gun was dropped, the alarm from the broken glass long forgotten in the background.

Quinn slowly took her stiff hands away from her head, staying on the ground but looking up at the superheroes on the other side of the store slowly and carefully. There were three of them now.

Oh my God, Quinn thought, Is the entire team here for one robbery!?

She recognized the third person immediately as well. His skin was dark but not as dark as the Colored Spirits, and he was much shorter than them too. His costume had a hood with a stitched on piece of cloth covering his eyes completely, but you could still tell they were shining bright with how wide the boy’s smile was, the bottom half of his face still showing. Red, gold and white was all over his suit, a red cape that only reached to his knees and was covered in yellow stars, and a cloth crown attached to his hood so it stayed on the top of his head. The Royal Guard.

“Did you see that!?” He yelled, bouncing up and down on his feet with unrelenting energy. “I smacked that dude right into the wall at the best time, and I think there’s an indent in the wall now but I’m sure it’s fine, that was just really great timing!”

Maya’s voice sounded light. Lighter than in the clips Quinn had seen before. “You did great, Kiddo.”

The Royal Guard’s smile only grew bigger at the praise, but Navy Spirit seemed to have noticed something suddenly. “I just realized,” he said, “The store’s empty. Where are his other friends now? They have the majority of the store’s goods on them.”

“Oh, remember how Nightmare and I were gonna wait outside to jump them? They took off down the road in some black cars before I came in here.”

Navy sighed. “...And you didn’t chase them.”

“No, cause Nightmare already was, and I heard like, a bajillion gunshots coming from inside. I had more pressing matters to attend to, thank you very much!”

Royal Guard’s smile beamed with pride, his hands on his hips in a superhero pose. Navy and Maya seemed to share a look before Navy caved in. “Alright then, understandable. However, I think your assistance will come a lot more in handy on the road now. You’re the one with super speed, so you can catch up to the cars easily, and if the people driving them are logical, chances are they’ve split in different directions by now. Maya and I can take care of things here, but how about you contact Nightmare and see if you can help him with the cars?”

“Sounds easy, hardly a task at all! Later, nerds!”

And just like that, Royal Guard had sped out the front doors leaving nothing but a blur of himself behind him.

Quinn slowly lifted her head from the back of the counter. “...Can I get a picture with you two?”

***

“There’s two black Ford Focus ST’s on the roads right now. I’ve got one that was down on 67, but if SLEEP’s radar is right, the second one is going down Lincoln Avenue and heading to the highway. That’s the one I want you to catch, got it?”

Roman nodded before realizing that Virgil couldn’t see him, his voice going through the phone call system Virgil had installed in each of their suits. “Got it, I’ll head over there now and give them a firsthand look at Artemis!”

“Just don’t chop off any faces, we don’t wanna kill the guys. Get them away from the wheel but don’t crash the car, you’ll cause a pretty damn deadly pileup. Pull it over safely-” Virgil paused for a moment as Roman jumped roof to roof trying to search for the car with the directions he was given. “...You do know how to drive, right?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’re barely fucking sixteen and poor as shit, that’s why!” Virgil suddenly seemed slightly panicked on the other side of the line. “God damnit, do you need me to drive over there? I can call Navy or Maya to come take this one to get back all the loot and shit and I can help you over there with the driving. I know you don’t have a license, so don’t even try that one!”

“Relax, Robert Downer, I’ll be just fine!” There it is, Roman thought, spotting the car matching Virgil’s description perfectly. Just before it got on the highway too. “Navy taught me how to drive his car plenty of times before, which isn’t exactly legal, but I know what I’m doing! I’ll call you if I need anything else, but I spotted the car, so it’s too late now!”

“...Fine, fine, but don’t cause a fucking massive crash in the busiest street in the entire city. I’ll find a way to kill you, don’t test me.”

“Bye, Nightmare!” With that, the call finally ended, Roman jumping across three more buildings before coming perfectly in line with the car. He sheathed his sword Artemis from its place around his waist and jumped from the roof, landing straight on the hood of the car so hard his feet dented into it enough to give Roman a balanced footing. He saw the driver of the car’s eyes widen before trying to jerk the car back and forth to shake him off, Roman burying his heel into the hood for balance.

“Get off, you fucking freak of nature!” The driver yelled, and for once in his life, Roman decided to listen. But not in the way the guy wanted.

He quickly jumped off the hood of the car and stabbed Artemis right through the roof, cutting open a slit that he could slip through to enter the car. Another robber in the back of the car punched Roman square in the jaw, smacking his head against the window with force the moment he jumped in. Well that wasn’t very nice.

Roman grabbed Artemis’ hilt and went for an aimless swing while his vision danced, but despite Roman’s powerful speed, his hand was stopped right in its tracks with a strong grip.

Suddenly, the robber was right in his face with a broken scowl, full of anger and hurt alike. “You really want those damn human’s approval so bad, don’t ya?” His grip on Roman’s hand tightened, grabbing his face as well. “Even after all they’ve done? You’re one of us, you know exactly what they’re fucking guilty for! But we want a little cash to get by and suddenly we’re the fucking bad guys!?”

All Roman could feel on his body was the unusual heat on his wrist. Scalding heat that felt like a burning iron plate was wrapped around his arm, leaving Roman’s only reaction to be to scream. Artemis hit the ground as he struggled to get away from the burning, his eyes slowly focusing in his haste. When he looked down at his wrist to see the problem, the first thing he saw was the robbers hand a lava red. Steam came from between his fingers.

Of course he has powers.

Roman’s head went into the back of the window once, twice, three more times as the robber slammed his head back continuously, saying his lament through gritted teeth. “Traitorous little bastard is all you are! It’s all your friends are! You’ve experienced the pain they cause first-hand and you’re still on their side! Boot-licking pieces of shit!”

The side of his face where the man was gripping started to burn too, a scalding, unbearable grip, and Roman’s body went limp from pain. His vision was dancing and his mind could only think of the heat, the unbearable burning like his hand and face were taped to a gas oven.

The robber smiled. “You’re about half as strong as they make you seem. What, you don’t like pain? Don’t like being left without your little buddies to come save you? Are you scared?”

“Dennis, just fucking kill him so I can drive straight!”

“Not yet, I wanna see the face behind the mask.”

That phrase brought adrenaline through his veins, sheer panic being able to give him strength. Oh no, Roman’s mind yelled, Do something focus just get him off of you!

Roman screamed louder when he bent his burning wrist to grab the burning robber’s hand in his, adrenaline rising as he bent his arm back in one swift motion. Before the robber could even processed what happened, Roman grabbed his face with his now one good hand and bashed his head into the window, shattering the glass entirely. The man fell to the floor when he let go, faint breathing the only sign he was actually alive.

Oops, too much strength.

“Denni-” The driver didn’t even finish his sentence before Roman grabbed him by the collar with his one good hand and threw him to the back of the car, grabbing Artemis and piercing the blade right in the side of the man’s pants, pinning him to the seat and switching places as the driver. The only conscious robber yelled from his place as he tried to get free, but hey, he should be grateful he wasn’t bleeding like the other guy.

“Alright, time to get us off the road!” Roman grabbed the wheel with his unburnt hand in the 2 position like Logan had told him before purposely ignoring the “two hands on the wheel” rule just this once. He pressed his right foot down to step on the gas and-

......And-

...Oh no.

Roman scooted down to where his head was at level with the bottom of the steering wheel, only then finally being able to step on the gas and stop a pileup, the car behind him honking its horn loudly. No matter how much Roman tried to maneuver himself, he couldn’t see through the window and press the pedal at the same time. He frantically tried to search for a lever to pull the seat up, but he couldn’t seem to locate it anywhere. In a sudden panic, Roman called into the air: “NIGHTMARE!”

The gadget in Roman’s mask started to ring, and the phone was picked up in a matter of seconds. “What’s up, Princey?”

“So, I might have a, uh...a slight dilemma?”

Virgil went quiet. “And what would that be?”

“You know how I said I could drive the car off the highway?”

“...Yeah?”

“...I can’t reach the pedals.”

The screeching of tires was heard in the background as well as the voice of another man yelling, Virgil yelling back, then the slamming of a car door. “You can’t what!?”

“I can’t reach the pedals! The driver’s tall and I’m short!”

“Oh my God, Jesus fucking Christ what the fuck are we gonna do—I’m coming over there, I’ll summon a couple signs and shit and direct traffic and I can come get you before you kill someone-”

“But won’t they figure out you’re lying about your powers that way? You’re supposed to make monsters, not stop signs!”

“I think my damn ‘my-creations-aren’t-real’ secret is less important than you killing twenty people!”

Roman’s heart was beating, turning sharply at a turn he didn’t see until it was too late and almost blowing out the tires. He was frantically looking around to have some kind of visual on where the road was, catching a glimpse of the right side mirror. Roman sighed in relief when he could see the street slightly, where a simple iron rail kept the cars from falling down ten feet into a little pit.

If this moment was in a cartoon, a lightbulb would have gone off above his head.

“Wait, I think I have a plan! You have me on a tracker right?”

“Duh, have you met me?”

Roman ignored him, “How much longer do I have that rail-thingy on the side of the road?”

A slight silence over the phone. “For about half a mile or so.”

“Perfect! See you in a bit, bye!”

“Princey don’t you fucking dare-” The call was ended before Virgil finished his sentence. Gotta make this quick then.

Roman pressed down the lock on the door and opening it up. Roman looked at the rearview for a moment and sped up to get away from the car behind him, hoping he wouldn’t slam into someone in front of him in the process. He counted to three. One...two...three!

He made the car do a sharp turn and drove right through the metal rail.

The conscious robber behind him yelled “You’re fucking nuts!” as the car went over the edge, Roman rising in his seat as they did a free fall. He stumbled over himself for a slight moment when he tried to push himself back up, slipping when his burnt hand touched the leather seat and set his nerves on fire. He pushed open the car door completely, tripping as he used his feet to leap out of the side, the conscious driver still screaming in the back. Metal thumped under his boots when Roman jumped back on the hood of the car, running off and scraping the car with the speed of his feet as he did so. He fell down to the ground and stumbled to get his footing as quick as possible, then, the car was falling straight toward him.

Roman grabbed the front of the car with both his hands, stopping 700 pounds of metal from crashing right into a ditch, gently setting it down.

And he did it all in seven seconds.

However, the adrenaline of the moment did eventually disappear, and the sharp pain in Roman’s hand returned just as bad as before from using it to stop a car. He jumped up and down while shaking his hand around to help with the pain. “Ow, ow ow ow, okay, that hurts.”

“What hurts!? What the fuck did you do, Princey!?”

Roman looked up and saw a taller man with a black, purple and steel suit on, his face covered with an iron mask full of gadgets, but he could still sense the franticness in his eyes. To anyone else, Nightmare would have been the most intimidating man to have swearing at you, but Roman knew better now. He just smiled widely at his mentor. “I stopped the car from crashing all on my own!”

“By crashing it!?”

“Hey, you’re the one that told me to get it off the road, not my fault you didn’t specify how.”

“I’m gonna kill you. I’m well and truly going to murder you.”

“I’d like to see you try, honestly.”

“I’m gonna slap the shit out of- Holy fuck what happened to your face.”

Roman’s right eye was throbbing as the skin under it looked very unnaturally white and charred all at the same time, peeling a little. “Well that’s not a very nice thing to say.”

Virgil stood there stunned for a moment before clicking on the phone button of his mask and letting it ring. “Navy, Maya, we caught all the robbers. Let’s head back to our place and let the cops handle the rest before I blow a fucking fuse.”

“On it, Nightmare! Just hold on a bit, we’re kinda...caught up with a fangirl.”

***

“...So then I caught the car when it fell and nobody got hurt! We’re not counting that one fire-dude that burned my precious face, though.”

“Another individual with superpowers fell to the corrupted end, I see…” Logan looked down at the ground for a moment, processing. He eventually shook his head when he sensed Patton’s worried glancing his way, instead handing Roman a large container of Gatorade. “Drink this.”

“Aren’t you supposed to give him water through the IV?” Patton asked.

“In a normal case of third degree burns, yes. However, Roman’s enhanced resistance abilities make it so he can drink it himself just fine. If he can speak, he can drink a bottle.”

“It’s really not all that bad!” Roman took a breath after drinking a third of the large bottle, “Sure, my hand wants to fall off and run away, but I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

Virgil in the background made some vague hand gestures in Roman’s direction to symbolize his grumpiness as he didn’t have his mask on. Without one of the two masks Virgil always wore around the place, he didn’t have the technology in order to communicate. The masks he built from scratch were meant to analyze his mouth movements and put them into words, a few other complicated controls allowing him to also add the correct tone to his voice. But Virgil just sat in his suit with his helmet on the seat next to him, leaning his head in one hand and looking around the room. He wanted to seem tough, but they all knew Virgil was panicking a little from Roman’s recklessness.

Logan looked back at Virgil on the other side of the L-shaped couch. “He will be fine, however I think that’s enough patrol for one day. Right, Virgil?.”

Virgil nodded slightly and kept looking at the massive TV on the other wall, focusing on some commercials about washing products to keep himself from staring at Roman’s face and hand. Logan continued tending to the wounds as best he could with only a nursing degree under his belt, the burn already starting to slowly mend itself back together like Roman’s powers often did.

“SLEEP?” Logan called, “Could you maybe turn up the heat in the penthouse? Burns need warmer rooms in order to heal.”

Virgil’s handmade AI SLEEP peered out from the corner of the hallway, flicking down his sunglasses slightly as he processed what Logan asked. “Penthouse temperature’s going up to 89, babes.”

Virgil snapped to get SLEEP’s attention and started to sign at him. Get my other mask and a pair of shorts or something, then. It’s already hot as shit in this suit.

“I’m a security system, not a maid, but since you asked so kindly…” SLEEP stared right at Virgil. Virgil didn’t move. He moved closer to him. “Since you asked so KINDLY…”

...Please. He signed unenthusiastically.

“...Then I’ll be so happy to!”

Virgil didn’t even look back at SLEEP to flip him off as he walked away. The only reason Virgil didn’t do more than that was the disapproving dad glare Patton was giving him from the other side of the room.

“Alright, that’s all I can do.” Logan said, taking one last look at Roman’s burned hand and face. “You do not need surgery considering your face is already starting to heal on its own, and since your enhanced resistance makes you immune to sickness, antibiotics and a tetanus shot would be unnecessary. However, I highly recommend you stay here for the night so that no one wonders what happened to your skin before it recovers.”

“Staying a night at multi-millionaire and emo Virgil Raine’s penthouse for a night? My, the horror! How will I ever recover from such a difficult task?! Sleeping on a comfortable guest bed and eating all the food he has? Cruelty I tell you!”

“Ah yes,” Virgil spoke and everyone looked over at him, slowly slipping out of the remainder of his suit with his other black mask covering his mouth again, SLEEP leaning on the back of the couch behind him. “It’s totally not like you basically live here anyway.”

“Your penthouse is comfy and as long as I check into the shelter once a week I still live there. It’s not my fault I know how to get through the window.”

“Yes it is!”

“It’s SLEEP’s fault for not warning you I’m sneaking through your window.”

“I’m supposed to warn him of threats,” SLEEP smirked, “a baby with a star cape isn’t that threatening.”

“I’m not a baby!”

“Virgil, your baby is whining.”

“Oh wow, would you look at the time,” Virgil looked at an invisible watch on his wrist, grabbing the clothes he also told SLEEP to bring and standing up. “I’m gonna go change and let you all fight this ou-”

“Hey look!” Patton pointed to the expensive TV excitedly. “The news is talking about us!”

Everyone looked over to the previously ignored TV, showing a woman in front of the jewelry store they had just been at not even three hours ago. The news lady was with the same fangirl that had stopped Logan and Patton earlier, lending her the microphone. “It was definitely crazy I’ll admit, I’ve never seen any of them up so close, and they did manage to get all my stuff back! I’m definitely really grateful The Core Four showed up when they did.”

“...The Core Four?”

“Core Four?” The news lady repeated, tilting the microphone back to the woman. “Yeah! That’s what I’ve seen the four of them be called anyway, on website formats and stuff. It’s less of a mouthful than their full names, even with the Colored Spirits being shortened. Oh! I actually got to talk to both of them-”

The five of them tuned the woman out after that point, focusing on the apparent team name they never knew they had. Eventually, the banner at the bottom of the screen changed to Core Four Saves Quinn’s Jewelry.

“Huh,” Virgil said, “I guess we’re called The Core Four now.”

Logan pouted slightly. “I thought I was coming up with the group name?”

“The news beat you to it. Rip you.”

Logan glared at Virgil, and Virgil just shrugged. “Plus, it’s kinda catchy.”

“I like that it rhymes!”

“We are the center of this very city, keeping it safe and protecting all that inhabit it! The core! Core Four! I love it!”

Logan caved in. “I must admit, it is...an acceptable name for a team like us.”

“It took them a year to decide on that?” SLEEP said, “Step up your game, missies!”

“Nightmare, Royal Guard, and the Colored Spirits altogether.” Virgil looked at everyone else. “That official? Core Four?”

The other three nodded their heads, Roman smiling brightly. “Core Four!”

#roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #ts patton #ts roman #ts virgil #sanders sides #thomas sanders #guns #tw guns #burning #robberies #caps lock #injuries #head injuries #burn injuries #swearing #superhero au

[rebllious]

                                        *         𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄.

there’s  a  quiet  understanding  between  the  tributes        (    them  &  them  alone    )        that  when  the  revolution  finally  starts  ,  it  is  kiana’s  doing  &  undoing  ,  but  it  only  makes  sense  for  dominic  to  take  the  credit  .

it’s  the  twenty-third  day  in  the  arena  when  the  camera  focuses  on  kiana’s  chosen  group  of  four  ,  standing  with  her  &  dominic  at  the  foot  of  an  aging  tree  .  chance  toys  with  a  hook  he’d  snagged  on  the  fourth  day  ,  arm  slung  across  cassie’s  shoulders  as  she  leans  back  against  his  chest  ,  watching  the  tight  line  of  samuel’s  lips  drag  down  for  the  tenth  time  in  half  as  many  minutes  .        “    i  still  don’t  like  it  .    ”        

dominic’s  brow  ticks  ;  toeing  the  line  between  impatience  &  agitation  ,  because  they’ve  gone  over  this  already  .        “    samu  ——    ”        

“    no  ,  i  get  it  .  but  it’s  suicide  .    ”        he  looks  between  them  all  ,  starting  with  dominic  ,  and  landing  on  abby  last  .  that  gaze  lingers  for  a  beat  too  long  to  mean  absolutely  nothing  ,  before  he  looks  away  .        “    we  do  it  ,  we  get  out  .  they’re  still  going  to  kill  us  for  fucking  up  their  fun  .  and  if  we  do  it  ...      ”        he  doesn’t  finish  .  his  jaw  clenches  &  his  eyes  flash  with  something  too  close  to  care  ,  before  he  tames  it  and  schools  the  entirety  of  his  countenance  into  indifference  .        “    i  thought  the  point  was  that  no  one  dies  here  .    ”        

cassie  almost  shuffles  forward  ;  chance  feels  the  foot  that  shifts  between  his  ,  but  he  holds  her  a  little  closer  ,  a  little  tighter  ,  and  drops  a  kiss  to  the  crown  of  her  head  .  whatever  affection  she  plans  on  giving  sami  won’t  be  well-received  .  she  doesn’t  see  it  ,  but  the  rest  of  them  do  .  taking  the  hint  as  it's  given  ,  she  wraps  both  hands  around  the  single  arm  banded  across  her  chest  ,  and  gives  sami  a  smile  .        “    it’s  okay  .  i  didn’t  plan  on  going  home  in  the  first  place  .  everyone  else  has  someone  to  go  home  to  .  you  have  a  sister  ,  right  ?    ”        sami  doesn’t  respond  ,  but  she’s  hit  a  nerve  &  they  all  know  it  .        “    she  needs  you  to  get  back  to  her  ,  sami  .    ”        

kiana’s  gaze  settles  on  cassie  ,  heavy  enough  that  even  chance  feels  it  ,  even  as  shadows  start  to  cast  over  her  expression  .        “    if  we  do  this  right  ,  we  all  go  home  ,    ”        she  says  ,  slowly  &  carefully  .

abby  scoffs  .        “    i  think  you’re  overestimating  the  margin  of  error  here  ,  ki  .    ”        

“    there  is  no  margin  of  error  .  so  we  have  to  do  this  right  ,  and  we  all  go  home  .    ”        dominic  looks  at  each  of  them  individually  ,  holding  their  attention  for  as  long  as  he  desires  ,  before  moving  on  .        “    so  run  through  it  again  .  what’s  first  ?    ”        

“    𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻  ——    ”        and  it’s  bryant  ,  sprinting  towards  them  ,  yanking  abby  up  from  the  ground  and  shouting  ,        “    RUN  !    ”        

all  chance  sees  is  a  faint  curl  of  smoke  through  the  air  .  it  passes  so  quietly  ,  kissing  a  golden  rose  on  the  very  tip  of  its  petal  .  the  entire  flower  disintegrates  ,  rot  spreading  from  the  petal  to  the  root  ,  to  the  earth  surrounding  it  ,  then  to  the  trees  .

he  doesn’t  think  .  scooping  cassie  off  of  the  ground  and  into  his  arms  is  mindless  ,  because  they  don’t  have  time  for  anything  else  .

foliage  crumbles  around  them  as  they  race  ,  bryant  &  abby  at  the  front  ,  sami  pulling  up  the  rear  .  chance  doesn’t  look  back,  doesn’t  want  to  know  what  he’ll  see  if  he  does  .  all  he  can  think  about  is  running  ,  cassie’s  arms  tight  around  his  throat  &  her  face  buried  in  his  neck  .  ahead  of  them  ,  dominic  glances  back  ,  and  maybe  later  ,  chance  will  feel  bad  about  screaming  at  him  to  fucking  go  .  there’s  hesitation  in  his  gaze  ,  but  he  turns  around  ,  picking  up  speed  ,  then  ——

they’re  breaking  through  the  treeline  ,  branches  tearing  across  their  faces  ,  leaving  angry  red  lines  through  their  skin  before  they’re  left  behind  ,  falling  victim  to  the  poisonous  gas  .  there’s  a  group  gathered  in  the  cornucopia  ,  too  far  away  to  see  ,  to  know  .  chance  doesn’t  get  a  glimpse  of  their  faces  ——  doesn’t  get  to  see  if  she  is  among  them  ,  doesn’t  know  if  now  is  the  right  time  to  think  about  that  ——  before  dominic  is  𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠  ,  arm  waving  wildly  as  they  run  ,  praying  to  catch  someone’s  attention  .

“    RUN  ,    ”        he  shouts  ,  desperation  making  his  voice  raspy  ,  but  it  still  reaches  .  people  are  up  &  moving  before  they  even  reach  them  ,  some  lingering  until  they  see  what’s  happening  .  parker’s  shoving  channing  &  luna  ahead  of  him  ,  and  tristan  is  yelling  ,  pointing  ,  telling  everyone  to  go  ahead  ,  he’ll  be  right  there  .  

tristan  ,  tristan  ,  tristan  ——

tristan  remains  stock  still  ,  avia  at  his  side  ,  standing  stern  &  still  despite  tristan’s  pleas  ,  until  bryant  &  abby  pass  him  ,  then  dominic  and  kiana  ,  then  ,        “    gimme  cass  .    ”        there’s  no  time  to  argue  ,  there’s  barely  time  for  an  exchange  .  chance  all  but  throws  the  small  girl  ,  and  tristan  catches  her  without  effort  ,  lets  chance  &  sami  &  avia  all  pass  ,  before  he  takes  the  rear  ,  unhindered  by  the  light  weight  in  his  arms  .

chance  is  guilty  ,  chance  is  a  sinner  ,  chance  is  so  biased  .  he  looks  .

sees  adore  ,  sees  auli’i  ,  sees  dixie  ,  ronan  ,  jagger  ,  aiden  ,  mckenna  ,  but  no  fucking  arabella  .

chance  pulls  ahead  ,  sprints  faster  ,  passes  channing  ,  who’s  never  been  much  of  a  runner  ,  passes  them  all  ,  he  has  to  find  her  .

when  he’s  passing  parker  ,  the  boy  is  twisting  back  to  find  channing  ,  skin  paling  &  eyes  widening  .  chance  catches  him  around  the  waist  before  he  can  run  into  the  mist  ,  hears  his  shout  of  ,        “    CHANNING  !    ”        before  he  even  realizes  what’s  wrong  .

then  she  screams  .  chance  looks  back  &  suddenly  gets  parker’s  horror  &  willingness  to  stride  so  confidently  into  hell  .

the  muttation  with  its  teeth  in  channing’s  arm  used  to  be  a  dog  ——  he  thinks  .  before  its  jaw  was  replaced  with  metal  &  its  body  was  filled  with  whatever  blackness  oozes  from  between  the  plates  screwed  onto  odd  patches  of  its  skin  .  before  its  eyes  were  ripped  out  &  the  sockets  filled  with  what  almost  look  like  marbles  from  this  distance  .  it  creaks  when  it  moves  ,  and  he  only  knows  that  because  an  entire  army  of  them  make  their  way  through  the  fog  ,  untouched  by  the  gas  that  kills  everything  else  .

parker  calls  out  for  channing  again  ,  shoving  against  chance’s  grip  ,  and  she  screams  ,  screams  ,  screa  ——

there’s  a  blur  ,  then  ——

NOLAN  appears  from  thin  air  ,  checking  his  shoulder  into  an  uncovered  lump  of  the  mutt’s  skin  &  driving  his  knife  beneath  its  jaw  .  the  mutt  freezes  ,  jaw  unhinging  &  releasing  channing  .  there’s  enough  blood  pooling  beneath  her  to  make  a  lesser  man  nauseous  ,  but  nolan  is  already  pushing  her  ahead  of  him  ,  throwing  a  glance  back  to  the  legion  of  demons  slowly  gaining  on  him  .  chance  sees  the  flash  of  a  grin  across  his  face  ,  before  he’s  pivoting  on  his  heel  &  they’re  running  again  .

parker  waits  for  channing  ,  but  chance  doesn’t  wait  for  them  .

uriah  is  coming  towards  them  when  they  reach  the  far  end  of  the  cornucopia  ,  mckenna’s  hand  catching  his  the  second  she  reaches  him  .  he  doesn’t  even  look  back  to  see  what  they’re  running  from  .

avia  cries  out  ,        “    we’re  missing  people  !    ”        

carter  ,  leonidas  ,  arabella  .

“    they’re  at  the  water  ,    ”        uriah  calls  out  &  there’s  no  debate  on  where  they  go  next  .  chance’s  lungs  scream  as  he  pushes  harder  ,  pushes  faster  ,  legs  pumping  as  fast  as  they  can  to  get  to  the  water  ,  praying  without  hope  that  the  gas  isn’t  coming  from  all  directions  .  the  mutts  creak  ,  jaws  opening  &  snapping  without  anything  to  keep  them  apart  .

a  tree  falls  somewhere  behind  them  ,  not  fully  eroded  before  it  hits  the  ground  ,  and  the  resulting  earthquake  forces  chance  to  stumble  .  a  hand  passes  over  his  back  to  push  him  up  ,  and  he’s  on  his  feet  in  less  than  a  second  ,  running  faster  ,  faster  ,  faster  ——

it’s another mile before they reach the water , but they do , thank fuck they do . their missing trio is on the other side of the lake , already facing them , watching them , but it doesn’t stop chance from calling out her name . even from a distance , he can see the brief pinch of skin between her brows before her expression widens .    “  everyone in the water !  ”    

he doesn’t know what prompts her to say it , but it doesn’t take any thought at all for him to obey , diving headfirst into the lake . he tracks the muffled sounds of everyone else plunging into the water beside him , doesn’t come up until everyone’s in .

he hears the tail-end of carter’s name leaving arabella’s lips as he emerges . no sooner than the sound echoes through the air is a knife soaring , embedding itself between the eyes of a mutt. an arrow flies from cassie’s bow , then another , then another , taking out three more mutts in the blink of an eye . it doesn’t even make a dent in the legion , but it gives them time to recuperate , to think , to ——

“  in the water ,  ”    avia shouts , and they listen .

arabella’s hand catches his , and they dive as the gas reaches them , skimming the top of the water but never going beneath .

they linger there , waiting , waiting , waiting ——

only ——

the gas never passes . at least , chance doesn’t remember that part .

waking  up  is  a  mess  of  disorientation  ,  uncomfortable  clothing  ,  and  unfiltered  yelling  from  one  rosemarie  allardyce  .  

dominic  &  kiana  take  the  brunt  of  that  ,  considering  they  were  the  ones  who  planned  this  whole  revolution  thing  .  the  rest  of  them  aren’t  let  off  the  hook  ,  because  they  weren’t  oblivious  to  begin  with  .  some  didn’t  believe  ,  but  they  all  sort  of  knew  .

the  yelling  eases  up  when  dominic  hugs  rosemarie  &  chance  thinks  there  has  to  be  something  illegal  about  using  everyone’s  weaknesses  against  them  like  that  .

anyway  ,  the  rundown  is  this  :  there’s  a  woman  named  dizzee  in  a  place  they  can’t  go  yet  ,  but  they  will  ,  because  they  have  to  be  𝑺  𝑨  𝑭  𝑬  .  but  first  ,  they  have  to  go  home  ,  have  to  get  the  things  ,  the  people  that  matter  ,  and  chance  doesn’t  think  anyone  misses  the  way  kiana  freezes  up  .  dominic’s  hand  squeezes  hers  ,  and  chance  says  nothing  .

“    how  long  do  we  have  ?    ”        leonidas  asks  ,  lifting  an  arm  for  aiden  to  slot  herself  against  his  chest  ,  her  thin  body  dwarfed  in  the  hospital  gown  she’s  been  given  .  he  looks  between  the  gathered  mentors  &  escorts  ,  stopping  on  terry  ,  nina  ,  kingston  &  priscilla  .        “    to  go  home  and  everything  .    ”        

“    we  want  to  reconvene  in  a  month  ,    ”        priscilla  says  .  her  gaze  flickers  towards  her  counterparts  ,  then  back  to  the  kids  .        “    we  figure  a  month  gives  you  time  to  make  your  decisions  &  prepare  yourselves  .    ”        

“    the  capitol  won’t  touch  you  ,  either  ,    ”        malcolm  adds  .        “    people  loved  what  you  did  .  the  capitol  might  have  been  pissed  off  ,  but  panem  wasn’t  .  they  all  love  you  too  much  for  the  president  to  risk  hurting  any  of  you  so  soon  .  the  peacekeepers  wouldn’t  stand  a  chance  against  the  uprisings  .    ”        

chance  thinks  about  going  home  .  he  thinks  about  molly’s  tearful  eyes  as  they  left  ,  and  kobi’s  unwavering  smile  ,  and  madchen’s  uncharacteristic  sobbing  ;  pohai’s  quiet  recklessness  and  kyree’s  unconditional  love  .  he  thinks  of  going  back  to  them  ,  and  he  holds  arabella  a  little  tighter  from  behind  ,  nose  brushing  the  column  of  her  neck  .  her  fingers  card  through  his  hair  ,  as  if  to  say  me  ,  too  .

“    what  decisions  ?    ”        all  eyes  turn  to  dixie  at  her  question  ;  quiet  ,  and  tired  ,  and  expectant  .        “    you  said  it  gives  us  a  month  to  make  our  decisions  ;  what  decisions  do  we  have  to  make  ?    ”        

malcolm  falls  quiet  ,  but  marilyn  doesn’t  .        “    how  you’re  going  to  do  this  .    ”        she  looks  to  each  of  them  ,  her  eyes  lingering  on  parker  &  luna  for  half  a  beat  longer  .        “    you  all  started  something  ,  and  i  don’t  think  any  of  you  are  unaware  of  the  fact  that  it  doesn’t  stop  with  the  games  .  what  you  started  is  going  to  be  a  long  &  hard  journey  &  you  need  a  plan  for  every  single  step  .    ”

cullen  nods  .        “    we’ll  do  what  we  can  to  help  ,  but  you  started  this  .  the  people  are  going  to  look  to  you  to  finish  it  .  so  if  you  want  out  ,  now  is  the  time  to  say  so  .    ”        

chance’s  eyes  shoot  to  channing  first  .  her  arm’s  all  healed  up  ,  without  a  scratch  to  indicate  that  she  was  ever  hurt  at  all  .  but  she  was  the  least  equipped  for  the  games  ;  she’s  the  least  equipped  for  any  of  this  ,  and  he’s  expecting  her  hand  to  shoot  up  first  .

it  doesn’t  .  if  anything  ,  her  chin  lifts  a  little  higher  ,  and  she  stands  an  immovable  force  .

(    fucking  sue  him  ,  chance  is  proud  of  that  girl  .    )

moments  pass  .  then  a  minute  ,  then  another  .

then  kiana  steps  forward  ,  pivoting  to  face  them  .        “    dominic  &  i  were  talking�� and  we  thought  about  …  if  we  survived  the  games  ,  how  would  we  do  this  ?  with  twenty-four  tributes  publicly  dissenting  from  the  capitol  ,  along  with  twenty-four  escorts  ,  that  gives  the  president  forty-eight  targets  .  there’s  no  way  panem  will  notice  if  one  out  of  forty-eight  dies  ;  no  way  panem  will  give  a  damn  every  single  time  .    ”        her  eyes  flicker  to  dominic  ,  and  something  about  his  gaze  must  embolden  her  .  she  straightens  her  posture  ,  the  fog  clearing  from  her  eyes  ,  and  she  speaks  a  little  louder  .        “    in  the  old  days  ,  before  panem  ,  the  people  believed  in  something  called  the  zodiac  .  twelve  different  signs  for  the  period  of  time  someone  was  born  .  reading  about  it  got  me  thinking  .  if  there  are  twelve  districts  ,  all  we  need  is  one  zodiac  sign  per  district  .    ”        

uriah  nods  slowly  .        “    one  .  .  .    ”        

“    face  ,    ”        dominic  says  .        “    what  we’re  proposing  is  that  we  have  one  face  per  district  .  i’ve  already  volunteered  to  be  the  face  for  mine  .  when  we  speak  out  against  the  capitol  ,  when  we’re  in  public  and  we’re  fighting  ,  i’m  the  one  who’ll  represent  district  one  .    ”        

avia  catches  on  before  chance  does  .        “    so  whatever  happens  ,  it  happens  to  you  .    ”        

oh  .

dominic  nods  without  worry  .        “    kiana’s  a  better  strategist  .  if  something  happens  ,  i  trust  her  to  lead  where  i  can’t  .    ”        

“    so  keep  the  strategists  behind  the  scenes  ,    ”        auli’i  says  .

“    not  necessarily  .  for  us  ,  it  makes  sense  .  we  haven’t  been  quiet  about  the  fact  that  the  protest  was  my  idea  .  the  capitol  already  knows  how  i  feel  ,  so  i  don’t  get  the  option  to  hide  .  i  wouldn’t  .  kiana’s  brain  is  a  blissful  coincidence  ,  but  not  a  requirement  .    ”        he  looks  between  them  ,  fully  aware  of  what  he’s  asking  .

what  he’s  asking  ——

chance  doesn’t  get  the  chance  to  open  his  mouth  before  arabella  is  stepping  forward  .        “    i  volunteer  .    ”        

it’s  the  REAPING  all  over  again  ,  but  this  time  ,  chance  can’t  follow  her  .

“    i  volunteer  ,    ”        nolan  says  ,  ignoring  avia’s  rough  yanking  on  his  arm  .  instead  ,  he  looks  at  dixie  with  that  manic  grin  he  does  so  well  .        “    you  in  ?    ”        

there  must  be  some  understanding  between  them  ,  and  chance  thinks  it  has  everything  to  do  with  tristan  &  avia  ,  because  dixie  shrugs  .        “    sure  .  i  volunteer  .    ”        

“    i  volunteer  ,    ”        uriah  echoes  ,  voice  overlapping  with  adore’s  .  they  speak  loud  enough  that  chance  almost  doesn’t  hear  it  when  abby  and  sami  get  to  arguing  .

“    yeah  ,  yeah  ,    ”        parker  mutters  ,  raising  his  hand  .

“    i’m  in  ,    ”        carter  says  ,  which  isn’t  nearly  as  much  of  a  surprise  as  it  should  be  .  if  he’s  at  all  swayed  by  cassie’s  frown  ,  he  doesn’t  show  it  .

aiden  clears  her  throat  ,  stepping  away  from  leo  .        “    i  guess  i  am  ,  too  .    ”        

kiana  hesitates  for  only  the  slightest  of  seconds  .        “    not  you  ,  aiden  .  i  need  you  with  me  .  your  skills  only  work  if  people  don't  know  to  look  for  you  .  and  bry  ...    ”        

“    we  can  get  a  sympathy  vote  out  of  him  ,    ”        parker  says  ,  because  someone  has  to  .        “    he’s  cute  &  sad  ,  and  that’s  what  people  want  ,  right  ?    ”        tatum  nudges  the  boy  ,  but  it  does  nothing  to  take  back  his  words  .  he  sighs  .        “    look  ,  you’re  the  safest  one  out  of  all  of  us  .  the  capitol  can’t  touch  you  ,  or  we’re  back  at  war  .  and  no  one’s  going  to  let  anything  happen  to  you  .    ”        

bryant  starts  to  nod  ,  but  thinks  better  of  it  .        “    can  i  think  about  it  ?    ”  

dominic  smiles  at  him  .        “    of  course  .  we’re  not  forcing  anyone  to  do  anything  .    ”        

finally  ,  abby  breaks  from  her  argument  ,  escaping  samuel’s  grasp  for  her  arm  .        “    i  volunteer  .  sami’s  a  leader  ,    ”        she  says  ,  before  any  of  them  can  argue  .        “    we’re  going  to  need  people  in  the  field  ,  and  you’re  going  to  need  people  to  lead  them  .  that  can’t  be  me  .    ”        

mckenna  clicks  her  tongue  against  the  roof  of  her  mouth  and  lifts  a  hand  .        “    same  .  ronan’s  a  better  leader  than  i  am  ,  too  .    ”              

“    i  volunteer  ,  ”        jagger  says  ,  but  chance  already  knows  what  comes  next  .  sees  it  in  the  way  dominc  &  kiana  look  to  each  other  ,  then  back  at  him  .  jagger  must  see  it  ,  too  ,  because  his  eyes  narrow  to  slits  and  he  glares  at  them  ,  pulling  auli’i  behind  him  .        “  no  .    ”        

dominic  steps  forward  a  little  .        “    jagger  ,  we’re  going  to  need  you  in  the  background  .  in  case  something  happens  ,  we  need  you  .    ”        

“    but  what  ,  auli’i’s  expendable  ?    ”        

“    i’d  never  say  that  ,    ”        dominic  says  ,  with  the  kind  of  intonation  that  forces  you  to  believe  him  .        “    no  one  is  expendable  ,  but  you’re  strong  ,  and  you  can  lead  .  if  something  happens  to  me  ,  or  to  any  of  us  ,  you’re  the  one  we’re  going  to  need  to  step  into  that  role  .    ”        

auli’i  steps  out  before  the  argument  can  continue  .        “    it’s  okay  ,    ”        she  promises  ,  quiet  and  soft  and  with  a  squeeze  to  jagger’s  arm  .  she  looks  to  dominic  and  gives  him  a  tiny  but  understanding  smile  .        “    i  volunteer  .    ”        

dominic  smiles  back  ,  but  he  doesn’t  look  as  smug  as  he  usually  does  .  if  anything  ,  he  looks  sorry  .

milo  clears  his  throat  .        “    remember  ,  you  all  have  a  month  to  rethink  this  .  but  in  that  month  ,  you  also  need  to  decide  if  you’re  going  with  us  ,  and  what  or  who  you’re  taking  with  you  .  a  month  isn’t  as  long  as  you  think  it  is  ,  so  start  thinking  now  .    ”        

that  jitteriness  returns  to  kiana’s  bones  ,  and  she  nods  stiffly  .        “    when  do  we  go  home  ?    ”        

“    in  the  morning  ,    ”        nina  says  .        “    tonight  ,  there’s  a  feast  for  all  of  you  .  the  capitol  is  going  to  play  into  panem’s  adoration  for  a  while  ,  but  it’s  not  going  to  last  forever  .  you’re  safe  tonight  .  but  don’t  get  complacent  .  look  out  for  each  other  ,  and  don’t  wander  off  .  i  don’t  want  any  of  you  alone  for  a  moment  ,  do  you  hear  me  ?    ”        she  looks  to  each  of  them  with  wide  ,  frazzled  eyes  .        “    i  don’t  know  what  they’ll  do  if  they  get  their  hands  on  you  while  no  one  is  looking  ,  and  i  don’t  want  to  find  out  .    ”        

in  return  ,  she  gets  a  quiet  chorus  of  yes  ,  ma’am  ,  and  chance  wanders  ,  not  for  the  first  time  ,  with  arabella  standing  so  boldly  &  so  out  of  reach  ,  what  exactly  they’ve  stepped  into  .

#𝟎𝟎. | zodiac. › group.

[greedisgreen]

Can you please write a PetyrXSansa fic where Petyr is mugged pretty badly while on his way home, and Sansa finds him unconscious and bleeding on the road and then takes him to the hospital

Another old prompt filled, plus two kissing prompts!

@jonarya786 asked:

56, 34 :)

Anonymous asked:

Thank you! I’d love to read a story based on prompt 11

The snow fell hard as Sansa made her way through the side streets of King’s Landing, and she tugged her wool peacoat tighter. With how fast it was accumulating, she regretted not calling a cab, but it was only three blocks back to her place from Jeyne’s flat, and at the time she couldn’t rationalize the fare for so short a distance. However, while they resided in a safer area of the city, Sansa kept her mobile screen alert, tucked inside her pocket, thumb readied to dial. In the other, she held the bear spray she picked up the last(and only) time she got roped into camping. She supposed if it could keep a bear at bay, it would do just fine against a human assailant.

She’d just turned to take a short cut behind her friendly neighborhood bodega, when she heard it — a metallic clang. Her whole body tensed, and she deftly stepped into the shadow of a nearby dumpster, her fists reasserting their grip on the meager items meant to offer her a modicum of defense. She inhaled sharply, trying to tame shrill beat in her chest. She should really know better than to travel the secluded alleyways at night, and cursed herself for her stupidity. Again, she heard the tumult, but nothing more — no footsteps, no crunch of snow. She peeked from her hiding place, surveyed the landscape, and that’s when she saw the dapples of blood in the snow. Alert eyes heedlessly followed their trail to a pile of refuse in the distance, where an unconscious man lay face down.

Oh god!

Sansa’s stomach sank, concern suffocating the last reserves of her caution. With her thumb already poised for action, she dialed emergency services. She hadn’t truly processed the full extent of the scene when the dispatcher answered the line.

“Yes, there’s a man the alley behind the bodega at the corner of Silk and Sage. There’s a lot of blood.”

“No, I didn’t see what happened.”

“Is he breathing? I- I haven’t checked.”

“You want me to what? But I don’t know-”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll try. Just- just gimme a minute.”

Body surging with adrenaline, Sansa walked towards the body on shaky legs, cautiously checking her surroundings, phone clutched. She felt exposed now that she’d left her safe little nook, but the lifeline to the dispatcher was open and ready if she needed to use it. A man laid prone amidst the asphalt and rubbish as the snow slowly encased him. If he was breathing, it was shallow, indeed. She crouched down beside his head, smoothed the flakes away from his face to see a rather striking profile. He was cold, and the bottled up dread she’d been suppressing came welling up. Swallowing down the bile that threatened (Because oh, god! What if he’s dead?), she reached beneath the collar of his heavy coat, placed her fingers as instructed over where his pulse should be, and collapsed on the ground next to him as relief flooded her entire body. He’s alive — hurt — but alive. Upon closer examination, she saw an ominous gash over his temple, and a small pool of blood beneath his head, but flow had thankfully ceased. She heard a buzzlike sound, and realized the dispatcher was yelling through the open line to gain her attention again.

“He’s alive,” she breathed. “But the snow is falling fast, and he’s chill to the touch.”

“Yes, yes,“ she nodded, vigorously trying to clear the snowfall away form his head, somewhat annoyed until she realized the patch over his ears was actually his hair. “I’ll stay with him until the paramedics arrive. Thank you, thank you so much.”

Distractedly, she ran her hand over his hair — satiny smooth against her fingertips — and worried at her bottom lip. “What happened to you?” A pained groan was received in response, and Sansa squeaked in surprise, her phone fumbling out of her grip and lodging in to snow with a crunch. Automatically, she reached for it, but a hand caught her wrist in vise. She froze as she beheld glazed grey-green eyes fluttering open. A wretched sobbing breath caught in his throat. “Cat? Am I dead?”

“No. No, you aren’t dead.” She pried free the hand on her wrist, warming his frozen palm between her own.

Sirens blared in the distance, and she knew help would arrive soon, but he was agitated, distraught as he pushed himself up from the cold asphalt. She need to calm him before he managed to injure himself further. His voice cracked, “I must be. You’re dead, Cat.” He cried into his fist, and Sansa couldn’t bring herself to correct him. Whoever this Cat person was, she was clearly someone he cared for dearly.

Playing along, her voice was coated in tenderness as she soothed, “No, no, look.” She released his hand to cup his face. “Look at me. I’m alive. My hands are warm, can’t you feel them?”

He choked back another pained whimper, resting his cradled head against hers as the tears swam down his cheeks. He shifted closer, his palms cupping the outside of her thighs, flexing and releasing as though he was working out what was real. The heaving sobs receded and an expression akin to relief came over him, awe maybe. “I almost lost you,” he gasped, surging forward to catch her lips without warning. He was delirious and deceptively strong. Arms steely as they bound her to him, her own trapped against his chest. She opened her mouth to form a protest, but he used the opportunity to claim her further; his mouth slanting, his tongue darting in to bait her own. At a loss, Sansa relented. He wasn’t in his right mind, and if a kiss would give him comfort that’s not bad, right? She reached out for him, her tongue toying, lips teasing and soft. He tasted of mint, of salty tears and copper. Despite the melancholic circumstances, it was pleasant. Too pleasant. This nameless man kissed her hard and thorough, and her body grew flustered and hot even as her head was screaming how wrong it was.

Finally, his arms relaxed, and reason was restored. They both gasped for air as she placed some distance between them with a firm hand to his chest. Not so far that he would feel the ache of rejection, but enough that there was space to move again, to breathe again.

The ambulance lights flashed behind her lids, and she lifted them to see it skid to a halt at the end of the alley. As the paramedics rushed towards them with a gurney in tow, Sansa willed herself together, gently removing his arms from around her so that she could stand and flag them down. “He’s over here. And he’s conscious now.”

He looked very small from where she stood, and he stared up at her in a daze. Did he realize she wasn’t this Cat for whom he’d mistook her? Compassion wrenching at her heart, she knelt down beside him again, licked his taste off her lips as she tried to explain what was happening, taking his hand again. “You are hurt.” She drew it up to his temple, let him feel the blood with his own fingers, let him see it. Cupping his cheek, she attempted to drill understanding into him, blues eyes going soft as they met only incomprehension. “They’re going to take you to the hospital now, though, okay?”

Clearly disoriented, he nodded like a child, not fully understanding, but not in a place to question. And Sansa watched on helplessly, biting at her nails as they checked his vitals. Satisfied that he wasn’t in immediate danger, they prepared him for transport — strapping him to the gurney and covering him with a warm blanket.

So preoccupied with her own tumbling thoughts, Sansa almost missed the question when the EMT asked, “Did you want to ride with him?”

Yes. No. I don’t know.

“No, I- I shouldn’t,“ she said lamely, shuffling on her feet. “I only found him, and I need to get home and feed my cat.”

The paramedic shrugged and the pair started rolling him away. And the man’s expression was distant as he stared back her, his eyes lifeless.

God, this didn’t feel right, and she couldn’t stop herself from chasing halfway down the alley after them. “Wait! Wait,” she panicked. “What hospital are you taking him to?”

They didn’t stop their frenzied gait as one yelled an answer over their shoulder. “King’s Landing General.”

She stood frozen, hugging the wall, until they loaded him up and drove away. She felt like an idiot, worrying after a man she didn’t even know, and kicked the snow at her feet, feeling something jolt loose under her heel. Her investigation turned up a wallet — Italian leather, expensive. Recalling the thick wool of his overcoat, and the soft silk of his shirt under her hands, she knew it was his. Inside, it was stripped bare — credit cards, cash, anything of worth removed — except for his ID.

Fingertips traced his imaged, absorbing every detail as she memorized his name: Petyr Baelish.

The next day, Sansa paced in her apartment, tapping his wallet against the palm of her hand as her cat, Sir Percival, bobbed his head, following her movement from his perch on the kitchen table. What to do, what to do? Turn it into the police or drop it off personally at the hospital? She knew, rationally, that the station was the correct route — it was technically evidence. Yet, some treacherous curiosity gnawed at her insides; that hollow expression on his face etched behind her lids.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Pursing her lips, Sansa huffed through her nose in annoyance, hand rearing to strike the wall she shared with her neighbor. The old bat was going to drive her insane one day, and when she snapped no jury would convict her. Letting a silent curse slip past her lips, Sansa fisted her hand at her stomach, yelled through the wall instead, “Oh let up, Mrs. Schmidt! I’m not making any noise! I’m not even wearing shoes, for Christ’s sake!” Not entirely true, but her ornery neighbor would have to come complaining to her door to prove it.

Ugh! She needed to get out. Maybe a jaunt through the park would help; fresh air to untangle her hopelessly tangled mind. Giving a perfunctory scratch to Percy’s ears, Sansa snatched her jacket and scarf from where they hung and donned them clumsily as she ran down the stairwell, out into the thick drape of winter.

It was only a hop, skip, and a jumped before she stared up at King’s Landing General. She didn’t even recall how she got there.

Room 414

Sansa stared at the number; hesitantly, raised her hand to knock only to drop it again, uncertain. His face flashed before her; the crushing desperation on it just before he’d capture her lips; the listlessness of his eyes when the paramedics carted him away. The way he just looked at her — looked through her. Her knuckles rapped.

Knock, knock, knock

Through the door, she heard a plaintive, lowly murmured, “Come in.”

Tentatively, she peeked inside to see him reclined in bed, hospital gown slightly askew at his shoulders as he read a book. A set of reading glasses were perched on the tip of his nose, and it struck her that it was an appealing look on him; far handsomer than the faded license picture presented. Unfortunately, he seemed enthralled with the words on the page, and made no move to greet her or even glance up. She cleared her throat with a little cough, and his eyes darted up, spying her in the cracked door over the tops of his frames.

Color tinged her cheeks as their eyes met, and he seemed almost as abashed, quietly snapping the book closed and folding his glasses away. “I’m sorry,” he said as he tried to sit up straighter. “I thought it was just another nurse come to poke at me. Can I help you?”

“Umm… hi,” she greeted with a small, nervous smile, tucking away her hair as he slid into the room. Approaching the bed, hands animated, she explained, “I’m, uh, not sure if you remember me. I’m the one who found you last night.”

“Oh!” His eyes widen briefly. “Forgive me,” he muttered apologetically, rubbing a hand over the bandage near his temple. “My head… It’s still a little fuzzy.”

“No, it’s fine. You were pretty out of it, so I wasn’t sure…” She trailed off with a sigh, shrugging away the unfinished thought. “Anyway, I found this on the ground after you’d gone.” Edging closer, she extended it out to him. Their fingers grazed, sending a shock straight through her, and she retracted her arm quickly, averting her eyes to the linoleum tiled floor. “I thought you might want it back, even if it was picked clean.”

“Thank you.” Petyr — Mr. Baelish — he turned the wallet over a time or two, as if debating how much of his life had been disrupted before admitting defeat and pulling it wide. His brows twitched upward, and he huffed, “Wow. They even took my coffee rewards card.”

“The monsters.” The glib comment flew out without thinking, and an apology was half formed until she saw him crack a smile, heard a muted chuckle, and coyly met him with one of her own.

His whole face softened, the deep lines around his eyes going slack as he seemed to relax at last. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude. I should properly thank the woman who saved my life. What’s your name?” He held out his hand for her, and after a seconds hesitation, she placed her own within it.

The warm contact caused prickle after prickle to raise on her skin, and she prayed the color flooding her cheeks was mild enough to be explained by the coat she still wore. “Sansa — Sansa Stark.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Stark. I’m-”

“Petyr Baelish,” she finished. Explaining in a rush, “I saw your license.”

Mirth played on his lips as he tugged her closer. “Well, it seems you have one up on me, Miss Stark.”

“Sansa. If you keep calling me Miss Stark, I’ll just look around the room, confused,” she joked lightly.

“Fair enough. But if that’s the case, you must call me Petyr.” A thumb brushed enticingly over her knuckles, sending a frisson budding low as he raised her hand to his lips, his eyes hooded. “Thank you, Sansa, from the bottom of my heart.” When his lips met her skin, she thought for sure she was going to turn into a puddle on the floor.

She stuttered, heart flying in her chest, “I- Uh- I’m glad I could help.”

A catlike grin lit his features, as his thumb swiped again, rubbing the faint moisture from his lips over her hand before he released it. “Actually, if you have a moment, maybe you could help me with something else?”

Her brows furrowed as she flex her hand, trying to ignore the way it tingled. “I- Maybe?”

Pulling forth the tray table that had been rolled to the side, Petyr lifted the cover off his lunch. “My current harridan of nurse is adamant that I finish this. Yet,” he distastefully eyed the cup of green jello, “that gelatinous goo is on my plate. I don’t suppose you like it? You’d be doing me a great service,” he pled.

Sansa ruffled her hair and laughed. “You want me to eat your Jello? Really?” At his adamant nod, she shrugged, “Okay. I think I can suffer the indignity if it’ll help.”

“You’re an angel!” he exclaimed with exaggerated relish. “Now sit. Tell me about yourself, Sansa.”

A mild cerebral edema kept Petyr in the hospital far beyond what he would have preferred. He explained it to her as she toyed with the cup of jello in her hand. The condition was not severe enough to warrant surgery, but the doctor insisted he stay for observation until they were certain he was out of danger — one week at a minimum. He hadn’t even been there twenty-four hours, and the stress of being endlessly poked and prodded was already taking its toll. But he enjoyed her company, and would she mind coming again? How can a girl turn down an invitation like that?

So, it became their routine. Sansa swung by daily to visit Petyr, eat his terrible jello, and they would talk — about everything. She told him about her job at the coffee shop, the classes she was taking at the local uni, and he in turned would regale her with tales of his own. He worked for the government (some fancy accountant type), and traveled abroad on the regular. It was a bit intimidating at first. He was older, had seen places and met people she only recognized from the telly. The vast differences between them, however, soon dwindled in relevance as their similarities came to fore. They were both orphans; both raised in the foster care system; both somehow survived and thrived.

Some subjects, however, seemed too delicate to broach. The kiss, Cat, that whole crazy night — they both circled around it. That was until the night before his discharge.

After her shift, Sansa snuck a coffee to him — a mint mocha with an extra dollop of whipped cream — and smiled a secretive little smile as she watched him take an appreciative sip; her giggle coming out involuntarily as she pointed out the ridiculous amount of cream caught up in his moustache. Petyr tried to lick it away, but mostly succeeded in mooshing it beyond the reach of his tongue.

Grabbing a tissue, Sansa took pity on him, plopping herself at the edge of his bed. “Here,” she offered, tilting his face up to dab at that impossible little spot of white, face growing warm only after she’d finished and he’d pulled her hand down into his; her gesture suddenly feeling far too intimate for their short acquaintance. Feeling silly, she tried to remove herself, but he refused to let her go, yanking her back.

There was something alight in his eyes that she couldn’t place immediately, then it hit her. Nervous — he wanted to say something and he was nervous, and now she found that she could barely meet his eyes. What if he was about to say goodbye? Go back to the infamous Cat that he never mentions. At indistinct pain welled up in her chest at the thought, and her breaths grew shallower and shallower until he spoke, “Once again, I feel the need to say thank you. I’m not sure I would have survived my stay here without these little kindnesses of yours.”

Shaking her head, she tried to laugh him off. “It’s no trouble.”

“So you say, but…” he looked sheepishly towards their entwined hands, “I haven’t been entirely honest.” Sansa’s brows pinched, confused. “I need to apologize. I lied. When I first saw you, I acted as though I didn’t recognize you, but I did. I remember everything that happened that night.” Her face lit up like a neon sign when she understood his meaning. “I wasn’t in my right mind when I came to, but that doesn’t excuse my actions.”

“Petyr, it’s okay. You don’t have t-”

“I do. I-” He cleared his throat, uncomfortable as he adjusted where he sat. “ I forced myself on you and you’ve been nothing but kind to me since. Coming to visit everyday, bringing me newspapers and books, sneaking little treats for me past the nurses. I feel as though I’ve taken advantage. I’m sorry, Sansa. Truly. If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, please just say the word.”

Please, kiss me again. That was the real reason she came here to return his wallet. She tried to delude herself into believing she was being a good Samaritan, but it was only the lie she told herself to make her behavior more palatable; admitting that she wanted him just a bridge too far for her conscience. In her dreams, that kiss replayed over and over in slow motion until she was breathless. But, of course, she couldn’t say that. It had been meant for someone else — for Cat.

At a loss(because how on earth had she allowed herself to become this far gone), Sansa racked her brain before smiling lamely, and suggested, “Well… I wouldn’t say no to a steak dinner.”

“Is that all?” he asked, granting her a smile that almost made that twisty, achy feeling in her gut(That try as she might, she’s never been able to quite tamp down) worth it. He kissed her hand for the second time in so many days. “I think that can be arranged.”

Removing her coat, Petyr handed it off to the girl working coat check along with his own, and all those meddlesome nerves that’d been knotting up in Sansa’s stomach since they made these plans threatened to choke her. Oh, the restaurant is posh; actual linen adorned the tables with candlelight, the service staff in black tie dress, everything screaming of romantic rendezvouses. Earlier, she worried if perhaps she’d over done it with the teal raglan dress and black leggings she wore, but she feared now the exact opposite was true. She tugged at the hem that barely reached mid thigh; smoothed the fabric down her middle trying to appear unaffected, and failing. She fretted, teeth tugging at her red tinted lip until she tasted the lipstick, then made a mad dash with her fingertips to wipe off the color that transferred before anyone noticed. Shit, she was nervous, and this wasn’t even a date.

Petyr’s touch burned at the small of her back, startling her out of the worried glances she was casting over the room. His whisper light, but a touched concerned. “Are you okay?”

Clearly, she wasn’t doing a great job of hiding her apprehension. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “Just- I feel a little underdressed. When I said steak, I was thinking more along the lines of the nearest Sizzler. This looks… expensive.”

“Never you mind,” Petyr assuaged into her ear, guiding her to follow the waitress to their table. “The owner is a friend of mine. Everything will be comped tonight.”

“I guess it pays to have friends in high places,” Sansa quipped as they approached their seats.

His hand slipped further around to squeeze the curve of her waist, and Sansa almost tripped over her feet in surprise. She could hear the smirk in his reply. “That it does.”

Filet mignon, drizzled with an avocado butter and rosemary sauce. Asparagus wrapped in bacon, cooked to crispy and tender perfection. Roasted cherry tomatoes with whole garlic cloves, bursting with savory flavor. Sansa hadn’t eaten this well since… Well, ever. There may have been one Thanksgiving when she was still just a child, but the memory was tainted; her foster family at the time having been particularly cruel.

Her companion watched in expectant delight, hands twined together over his own dish, as Sansa brought the first savory morsel to her mouth. A cacophony of flavor exploded on her tongue, eliciting a moan that was practically indecent.

“Does it meet with your approval, then?” he asked with a terribly wicked, teasing grin. 

That smirk really should be illegal for the deplorable things it did to her insides. She clenched her legs together, hoping to abate the fluttering twitch that pulsed low in her hips. With her ankles crossed demurely, she sampled the first taste of the spicy Syrah that he’d ordered with their meal, unsurprised to find it a perfect compliment. “Honestly, I think it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,“ she confessed with a blush on her cheeks.

“I’m glad. I wanted to do something special for you,” he said, cutting into his own meal. “Your presence this last week, it was a comfort. While I can claim many people’s acquaintance, there are very few who I could call a friend.“

Swallowing her disappointment, she plucked her bread apart. “So, is that what we are — friends?”

“Is that something you’d like?” Petyr commented casually, glancing up from his plate.

She plastered on a watery grin, attempting to hide her chagrin. “Of course, I would.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” he said quickly, explaining further, “I’ve missed having people I can rely upon. People, not in my pay that is. Unfortunately, as I’ve gotten older, it’s become rather difficult to connect with my peers. Usually, those around my age are settled down, worrying about how to pay for their kids’ education. I don’t have that issue. It’s freeing, but also quite — for lack of a better word — lonely.”

“So you’ve never married?” she asked, trying to squash the hope rising up in her. 

“No.”

“Then, I have to ask. Who is Cat?” The whole room seemed to go quiet, as she met the stormy depths of his eyes. She bit her lips before stating, “You called out for her that night after you’d been mugged.”

The utensils in this hand clanked as he set them on his plate, and he reached for his glass. “An old heartache. One that’s been slow to mend.” A deep draw of the decadent red wine bobbed down his throat, and he took a steadying breath. “She died almost twenty years ago. Her car skidded off a bridge. Her body was never recovered.”

“I’m so sorry, Petyr.” Her heart hurt for him, and she felt torn in two because she’d been sitting here jealous of a dead woman. Idiot — callous, thoughtless idiot. She squeezed his hand atop the table, determined to be the comfort he clearly thought her. “She must have been a very special to you, to still think of her after all this time.”

“She was,” he said soberly, returning her gesture along with a muted smile. “But that was a long time ago, and I’d much rather converse on happier topics, wouldn’t you?”

By the end of dinner, there was no denying it. Sansa was wildly enamored with Petyr Baelish — wildly enamored and completely, utterly heartbroken. He was the perfect gentleman; charming, funny, and after they’d demolished the first tray of bread she’d realized, devastatingly handsome for a man no less than twenty years her senior. The crooked grins he’d cast her way, the warm rumble of his laugh, the careful way that he’d helped her to and from the restaurant, the way his scent would crowd her — she was positively drunk off him. And he thought of her as a friend. Tears of burning frustration stung behind her eyes. What sort of stupid girl falls for a man who’s still in love with a dead woman?

The car hummed to a stop in front of her building, and Petyr’s hand found hers in the dark. “Is everything okay, Sansa? You’ve been very quiet the last hour.”

Sansa’s heart twisted as she took in the concern on his face, and her exquisite meal sat like a heavy immovable rock in her gut. “I’m fine.” She shrugged, casting him a pale shadow of a smile. “I probably shouldn’t have eaten so many lemoncakes. I’m just sleepy is all.”

“It was a particularly rich meal. I’m glad you shared it with me. I can’t recall the last time I had such enjoyable company,“ he agreed, tone raspy and warm. He pursed his lips, leaned into her intently, and that dastardly, sinful hope convinced her to close her eyes… "I thought perhaps-” But Sansa cut off whatever he was about to suggest, realizing far too late that he wasn’t making a move to kiss her at all. His lips were parted but immobile beneath her own, and by the time she pulled the brakes on this runaway train, she absolutely wanted to curl up and die. The face of complete shock stared down at her like a barrel of a gun, and his lips were stained red.

Oh, god.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked. “I- I-” She licked her lips, her hand scrambling for the door’s handle. She had to get out of the car before she really did die of acute embarrassment. The cool grip found its way into her palm. Jackpot. “Um, thanks for dinner.” She bolted. Through the door, into the building, up the stairwell; pulling off her modest ballet flats after the first flight because they kept slipping and she couldn’t hide in her apartment fast enough.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. Who does that?! Just up and kisses someone who was only trying to be kind!

The keys to her studio unit jangled uncontrollably as her hand shook; her blood pumping at light speed from such a heinous error in judgment, and she didn’t take a true, full breath until the door was slammed hard behind her. Not even a full minute passed before the little fury dictator was demanding her attention.

Mrrrew, mrrrew

“Oh, Percy, at least you still love me,” she said forlornly, picking up the grey tabby from where he weaved through her legs. Kissing him on the head, “Even if it’s only because I feed you.” She placed him on the counter as she opened a bag of treats.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"You have got to be kidding me!” Sansa whipped out of her kitchen and yanked open her door, fully prepared to tell Mrs. Schimdt just where to shove her wall banging broom, only to stop dead in her tracks. Petyr stood just outside her door, his hand poised to knock. Her stomach did a one eighty flip into a triple axle and whatever the fuck other fancy spinning, sproinging Olympic moves one could think of as he stepped closer. Words froze in her throat, which was just fine, as he didn’t seem interested in talking. He reached out for her — arms snaking around her waist, into her hair — and his mouth took hers in a deeply, sensual kiss. The slow, careful movement of his lips and tongue pulling the sweetest sounds from her throat. This kiss wasn’t as good their first. It was better. Because this kiss, this kiss was meant for her and her alone. She melted into him, meeting him stroke for delicious stroke, reveling in the same piquant flavor that she’d come to crave.

Petyr growled, painstakingly pulling his mouth away. “Now, if you’ll let me finish what I wanted to say before,” he purred against her lips. “I’d like it very much if we could continue to see each other.”

“Okay,” she sighed happily, nails rasping along his nape. “But only if you keep kissing me like that.”

“I don’t think,” he said, peck, peck, pecking down her jaw, “that will be a problem.” A sweltering kiss to her lips, and he loosened his grip attempting to exit gracefully. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Sansa wasn’t having it. She wrapped her arms around him tighter. Her voice dripping pure sugar, “You don’t want to stay awhile?” Oh, she really shouldn’t sound that desperate, but Petyr didn’t seem to mind.

The deep rumble of his chest warmed her through, as he replied with amusement tilting his lips, “We have an audience.”

“Hmm?” Sansa opened her eyes (When had she shut them? Who knows, who cares! Elation coursing through her veins because he kissed her! He wanted her! She was in his arms!), and craned her head around to see old Mrs. Schmidt standing in her house robe, cigarette hanging out of one side of her mouth and curlers in her hair.

Petyr tilted her to face him once more, kissed her lips with a grin. “Tomorrow.” He slithered out of her arms and veritably skipped down the stairs, and Sansa could not wipe the smile off her face if her life depended on it. It took all her effect not to make a complete ass out of herself by twirling into her apartment.

“Well, honey,” Mrs. Schmidt said in her smoke soaked voice, “If you two don’t work out, you can send him my way.”

In your dreams you old crone!

Sansa glided into her apartment, singing out sweetly behind her, “Goodnight, Mrs. Schmidt.”

#prompts #petyr x sansa #my fic

[holdingart]

Practicality’s Kindness Pt. 2

waddup i’m behind on prompts but that’s NOT GONNA STOP ME.

Friendship sometimes comes in many forms, and sometimes the road isn’t smooth.  and sometimes the author wants to spread things out to meet their quota

 Toshio had to give credit where credit was due: Hachirobei truly had a gift for trying someone’s patience.

 All afternoon he and Hashimoto had tried to continue where they had left off.  Key word being ‘try’.  Hachirobei paced about and would hover over their shoulders like a nervous mother, asking trite and novice questions about what they were doing.  In a strange way, Toshio was grateful.  Hashimoto spoke with authority, confident at first he had the answers, and even when doubt started to creep in when Hachirobei didn't fully understand, the young boy didn't look to the ninja for guidance but instead dug his heel in more and pressed on.

 It was admirable, and was definitely on the right path to the boy gaining more independence and confidence in his skills.  Something he surely needed after-

 Toshio shook the memory away.  He didn't want to think about Jijinto.  None of them talked about that night, and today wouldn't be any different.

 “Look, you clearly don't understand and I'm not going to explain it to you again, Hatch.”

 “But I wanna know!” He said with a sparkle in his eye.  “I can't really help y’all that much, but the more I know the more that can help, y’know?”

 Hashimoto pinched the bridge of his nose and took a long, deep breath.  “No, Hatch.  That didn't make any sense.”

 “Hnn?  What’d I say?”

 “Oh heavenly Emperor, Hatch please!”

 Hachirobei dropped the piece he was holding at Hashimoto’s outburst, and Toshio cringed as the baby he'd been rocking started to scream again.  Not again.

 Hashimoto gripped and yanked at his hair, and kicked the shogi board, sending pieces flying everywhere.

 Oh bless the Spirits Ume-Ume and her daughter are out or we'd be out.

 Hashimoto was in a mood now, trying to pace in the tiny room before giving up and swiveling toward Hachirobei.

 “I need air.”

 Hachirobei began twiddling his fingers and pulling at his braid.  “Okay?”

 “I need air,” he repeated.  “Move.”

 Hachirobei’s brow furrowed, turned and saw the door outside behind him, and chuckled.  “Oh that's what you meant.  Well, um, I think, well…” he twirled a finger in his hair and got his hand stuck in a knot.  Toshio knew he was stalling, and chances were Hashimoto knew too.

 “Well, y’see Masashi y’don’t wanna go out there.  With all the noise, you probably didn't notice and I totally get that that's totally understandable, but it's been rainin’ super hard today.  Like, real bad.  You'll probably float away!” He mimicked the sound of water and mimed someone floating away with his free hand.  “With all that wet, it's also been pretty gross to smell.  Dog and horse shit mixin’ in with all that mud? Ew.”

 That sounded believable.  Downright plausible even.  Unfortunately right next to the door was a window outside, and it was as clear as it had been this morning when Takeko dragged them here.

 Hashimoto tapped his foot and looked unimpressed.

 “B-besides, what if Ume-Ume comes back?  She’ll be, like, super mad.  We don't want that?”

 Hashimoto began to deflate.  “You could clean it up.”

 Oh, he's won this one.

 “Oh, but it's my turn with the baby,” he said and looked at Toshio.  He could see the signs of panic in his eyes, but Toshio only gave him an ambiguous smile.  He wanted to see the damn fool was going to do next.

 Apparently he took his smile as an invitation, and walked over to him.  The moment Toshio handed him the baby, it was like a flip switched in both the baby and in Hachirobei.  He seemed more competent somehow, as he bounced and patted the baby, murmuring something Toshio couldn't catch.  Within minutes, the baby was asleep again.

 “Now let's see-” Toshio started before Hachirobei put a finger to his lips and shook his head.

 Something lit inside of Toshio, and he had to take a deep breath and forcibly relax his shoulders.  The rational part of him insisted that Hachirobei meant nothing of it, that he wasn't I fantasizing him or looking down or disrespecting him.  He was just didn't want him to wake the baby.  The other part of him wished he was as strong and as big as Takeko, then no one would treat him so disrespectfully.

 Satisfied that Toshio wasn't going to speak, Hachirobei went to the only other room to put the baby in its crib.  Hashimoto kept glancing over at Toshio, no doubt hoping he would help him clean up the mess he made, but Toshio was in no mood to assist him.  Instead he flipped through their notes, if only to give himself to distract himself.

 Hachirobei came back and immediately went into the kitchen. While he began making a bottle (where did he learn all this?) Toshio glanced out the window.  Anything could be hiding out in the ever growing shadows.  And Hachirobei was obviously worried about Hashimoto being out there, so the question was what could it be?

 Soon enough, Hachirobei tiptoed around Hashimoto towards Toshio.  With one more glance at Hashimoto he whispered, “Is, um, is the little lord still, like, um, mad at me?”

 Toshio shrugged.

 “Aw, don't gimme the silent treatment.  That's Takeko’s shtick, not yours.”

 He sighed.  “It’s been a long day.  For both of us.”

 “I get that,” Hachirobei nodded. “You guys’ve been under a lotta pressure to get this whole...it's a demon thing, right?”

 “It is indeed a thing, yes.”

 No need to remind me that Hashimoto told you our sacred mission, if you know what's good for you.

 He seemed to finally be able to read the room and changed the subject.

 “So that kid sure has a set of lungs, don't he?”

 “Indeed she does.”

 “Oh, yeah?  I didn't hafta change her, so I didn't realize,” he grinned.  “Maybe that's. Why she didn't like you so much, so don't worry about it so much, okay?”

 Is he trying to pick a fight?

 Before he had to answer however, the front door burst open, the baby started to cry, and all three groaned in unison.  When Toshio looked at the door, there was Takeko standing as tall and as imposing as the sloped roof would allow her.

  The bag of groceries and makeshift cane made of driftwood took away some of her grandeur, though.  Behind her was Ume-Ume and her daughter, Hiroko, and her “no good shun-in-law”.  All of them were balancing a hoard of food.

  “Now where did all of tha-”

  Hachirobei whistled.  “We ain't stayin’ for supper, are we?”

  “Bless be, I hope not!” Hiroko laughed good naturedly.  “I swear, every time we come back there's more of you than before.”

  Takeko clicked her tongue, sparing only a glance at Toshio before she went and put the food in the kitchen.  Without thinking he took the bags from Ume-Ume and the others and followed her.

  “Aw, Tosh, you don't gotta carry all that, lemme help.”

  “Thank you Hatch-san, but that is unnecessary,” he gave a polite smile.  “You keeping the baby happy is plenty of help.”

  Hachirobei gave a sheepish grin while the baby pulled at his hair.  He noticed Ume-Ume nudge Hiroko until the poor girl nearly toppled over, but hurried over to Takeko’s side.  Her husband could surely help her.  He couldn't be everywhere for everyone, after all.

  While Toshio did intend to help Takeko sort through the food, he was genuinely more interested in what she'd been doing all day.  He had caught a glance of a package in different wrapping than everything else hidden among all the fruits and vegetables.  He had to stay by her side, he had to know.

  He kept his back turned and watched everyone chat and laugh.  Hachirobei somehow endeared himself to the baby, making him Hiroko’s new favorite person.  Ume-Ume complained and kept him humble though, and recounted everything she’d seen of him.  It wasn't much, but it didn't take long to see what kind of person he was.

  “You're scowling.”

  It was barely above a whisper, but he still jumped at Takeko’s voice, his hand reaching for his face.  He didn't like the idea of it doing things without him knowing.  Part of being a spymaster and a Kondo meant being in total control of himself at all times.  He couldn't slip up, not when so much was at stake.  Out of the corner of his eye he noticed her slip something into the sleeve of her kimono. 

 Ah of course.  She wasn't concerned, just distracting him.  And he fell, for it

  It wasn't food, she's not stealing from the mouths of our hosts, but she doesn't want me to know what she's been doing.  A dozen possibilities popped into his mind before he pushed them aside.  First I have to know more.  Hachirobei was less useful than I expected, could I trick her?

 He turned and began to sort through the food.  No, she's already plenty suspicious of me, best I should do is go through our money and see how much is missing.  Tomorrow I can scout the marketplace, get a list, see what she could have possibly-   His hand paused.  Could that be why we’ve been here?  I thought she might have been worried for us, no, that couldn't be it.  She cares too much for Hashimoto, but I doubt to this extent.  Not when his temper could put us in danger.  So it must have been something riskier.  What happened at the theatre yesterday?

 Takeko wiped her hands on her pants and turned to him.

  “Time to go.”

#soh #samurai of hyuga #sohweek2k17 #writing lines