#but the day guard is there to swap with her so he bares witness to excited puppy roxy and is so fucking confused

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Horsies in the Plex if Roxy is a horse lover before she knows they've ever existed here is really good honestly. She's off exploring, finding random horse themed things and immediately drops what she's doing to run over to Vanessa with it like "LOOK WHAT I FOUND!!!" cause Vanessa also likes horsies and is the reason Roxy likes them so much in the first place.

Like it starts with a prop horseshoe or something. Then she's finding plushies and building a little collection of them, making sure to give Vanessa one every time she finds a new one. Then she finds a random ass saddle or a bunch of prop hay bales or something. A bridle. Some bit pieces. A harness for a wagon. The wagon itself. Horse action figures. Whatever else. She's been excited about every single thing she's found so far and wonders how much more there is to find...

Opens a new storage room door and she finds actual fucking horses. Deactivated, dusty as hell, animatronic horsies.

Fucking grabs Vanessa and takes off running into areas Vanessa is absolutely not allowed to be in at all to show her all the horsies sndjjd like "VANESSAA!!! THERE'S HORSES!!!! NESSA HORSES ARE REAL!!! THEY REALLY EXIST NESSA LOOOOK!!!!"

#there's so much fun with these horsies #listen she's got a special interest that makes her super happy #all tail wags and tippy taps while her four minis get so excited for her #biggest enablers of the special interest jdjdnid #oh and for the record vanessa does NOT have a special interest here. she was a horse kid growing up and still likes them #but she's nowhere near as interested anymore #Roxy just shows up and drops a horse plushie on her so excited about it and vanessa is... #well she's shocked cause where the fuck did that come from but also what do you MEAN it's hers?? #this is the thing with roxy. her dog programming makes strong emotions really hard to contain #so she HAS to show her the horsies and she HAS to run loops around her to do it #when she's excited enough about something sitting still feels like a death sentence she's actually going to EXPLODE #she's a little bean!!! cute and adorable and a good bit overwhelming to the unprepared!!! #the downside is that thus carries over to sadness anger frustration and every other emotion she can feel #she can't contain shit. she can kind of mask with overconfidence but only if she's had time to calm down first #she's just so dog like that #fnaf security breach #roxanne wolf #plex history: horses #they have an official tag now because i love them #fnaf vanessa #yeah sure fuck it I'll tag them both shjdj #i just have this mental image of roxy running in at the end of nessa's shift to give her a pony plushie #but the day guard is there to swap with her so he bares witness to excited puppy roxy and is so fucking confused #she gets super embarrassed when she notices him but poppet and tippy are like 'hey... hes probably jealous' #and she fucking shoots off to go get him one too. fucking blasts the door down when she gets back to hand him a horsie #'tippy said you'd be jealous so i got you one too.' and he's so fucking confused cause who the FUCK is tippy??? #Vanessa behind Roxy just nodding and gesturing to go with it and when he does she's both surprised and overjoyed he likes the horsies too #still embarrassed but HORSIES!!! #'where did you even get these??' 'found em!' 'yeah be where?' 'oh ya know... around.' '?????' #vanessa just tells him to drop it cause she doesn't have a clue either and that's obviously not about to change ever lmao

[hwaseonghwasworld]

Arranged marriage chapter 5: “Honeymoon”

Summary: being a popular model isn't enough for Y/n’s parents so they decided to get her married with a 6’1”, protective male who is also a mafia, all the secrets and lies everyone kept from her will soon come into the light, what happens once the truth comes out?

Yunho x Reader

Word Count: 850

Genre: series Mafia au!, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Media au!

Warnings: murder, graphic violence, kidnapping, cursing

Updates: Probably Thursday at 7pm BST

I asked Yunho sarcastically, "I thought married couples go somewhere alone for honeymoons," and he responded, "It's just for today doll, our honeymoon is tomorrow." I rolled my eyes at him for calling me doll, but since he's now my husband, I nodded. I didn't want to go on a honeymoon with this man, I barely know him. He helped while we were driving to my house to get my clothes for the honeymoon.

"Your dad told your manager about our honeymoon, so you don’t need to model today" Yunho stated, "but I have to model." "Wait, my dad spoke to Harin, and he didn't call me?" I ask him, perplexed. I glanced at him and realised he was lying about my dad talking to Harin. "Harin. Do you mean the person who witnessed me swap with his wife?” His glance at me confirmed my concerns that it was a lie.

"Ok let me call him right now" Yunho grabbed my arm in which I was holding my phone, our gazes locked, and he snatched my phone and performed something with it, asking, "What are you doing?" "Call me whenever you feel unsafe or if you need anything" "why would I feel unsafe?" I looked at him, still holding my phone, as he said, "It's just to keep you safe." I nodded, and as soon as we arrived at Yunho's house, Yunho's guys placed my things in a room.

"Where are you gonna sleep?" "And where am I going to sleep?" he asked, pointing to this bed. He pointed to the bed and said, "right here" I laughed a little, believing he was joking, but I could see the sincerity in his face "were married doll, we're not gonna sleep in separate rooms"

“Yunho I barely know you” “come on go get your pajamas on” Yunho took his shirt off making me cover my face and turned around “what are you doing!!” “I’m getting changed” “yeah, in front of me” “you’re my wife” he grabbed my shoulders and turned me around he took my hand away from my eyes so I could see him “keep your eyes on me doll” he kissed me and I look at him in complete shock. “WHY DID YOU KISS ME!!” He looks at me smiling “can’t I kiss my wife?” I push him off me and went into the bathroom and got changed.

As soon as I walked back out Yunho was sat on the bed looking at me “Y/n what happened on your birthday” my mood changed “did Hyunjin tell you” he nodded telling me how he just said that I forgot stuff. “Can you tell me what happened?” He beckoned me to come sit with him so I did hut I kept a distance, “when I was 19 I got hit by a car and hit my head on the concrete, they thought I was gonna die since I lost a lot of blood but I just lost my memory and tried to get as much of it back.” I didn’t want to talk about it anymore so I decided to just fall asleep, Yunho sighed and lied down aswell.

The next day we woke up and we were on our way to Japan, it was just gonna be me and him, we went to Osaka and it was beautiful, I knew some Japanese so I was the one who told the register about the booking. We got into the hotel room and i look at the scenery since it’s so pretty.

“Are you ok?” I nodded, walking towards the door and looking back at Yunho “are you coming or no” Yunho walked out with me and we went on a date, we went to a restaurant and I felt uncomfortable because right behind me and Yunho was 3 buff body guards, “what’s up doll, are you ready to order?” “Yunho why are there body guards here!?” “It’s just for protection doll, there’s no need to worry.”

I nodded knowing that he could protect me anyway, I just didn’t want my first date to look like this “Y/n I’m a huge fan can, I get your signature?” The body guards pulled him away “yeah sure” I put my arms out to get the photocard from him we were speaking Japanese so Yunho couldn’t understand what I was saying, I sign the photo card and smiled at the fan as he said thank you “is he your husband?” “Yes” I smile and nodded as Yunho looked jealous and ignored the fan, the fan walked away after thanking me one last time.

“You didn’t have to be so rude to my fan” “I didn’t even do anything” “exactly” I pointed out as he was just ignoring the nice fan. “Be nice next time” Yunho just kept a straight face and looked at the menu “what do you what to get doll?” “Can you even speak Japanese?” Yunho fries and I nodded knowing the answer. “How do you know to speak Japanese?” “Setsuna” “she taught us all Japanese” we ordered our food and we were just talking.

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[driftward]

Title: FFXIV Write 2022 - 25. Free Day 4 Characters: Karasawa Atraxae Rating: Teen Summary: Guide. Guard. Help. Notes: None

"Guide 'em, guard 'em, help 'em," muttered Atraxae into her cups.

She was sitting in the Quicksand and tending to her cups, a fist tight around it as she stared at the dimness of her reflection in its purple fluid. Some kind of juice, except it tasted like acid and vinegar, but she was drinking it anyway, because it also made her a bit tingly and that was better than the other feelings she was having.

Hydaelyn was alive, but couldn't talk. Not for long. And Atraxae no longer had the ability to talk back. She could hear the whispers of resonance just barely on the edge of what she could hear, but that was it. No teek. No creation magics. Her vision was stunted. The only senses she felt were full were her senses of smell and of taste. Even her sense of touch felt flatter, somehow.

She grimaced, and downed the drink, and set it back. Guarding would be easy, she thought. Really, that was just a specific kind of help. And helping would be easy enough, too. There were so many people hurting, and for no good hells-damned reason.

But guiding?

She took a deep breath in, and let it out slow.

That was really more Karasawa's thing. Sure, she was the idea person, but Karasawa was the one who kept her on track, kept them both focused, always seeming to know what to do or who to talk with and keeping the peace, and...

Well.

He was gone, now, and she remained.

Her and Hydaelyn.

She wondered if there were others.

She'd have to ask Hydaelyn. Assuming Hydaelyn would call her up again.

But for now, it was just her. And if Hydaelyn was asking her to step up, well, then.

"...I must be Karasawa," she said. She sighed, and looked around. What would Karasawa do?

She hefted up her devices, swapped the sword to a staff, and headed out.

-*-

Well, the day had started out pleasant enough. Deliver a pumpkin. Help feed some kids. The Wystan guy was a good bloke. Kind to children, easy on the eyes. Of course she went after him to witness his good fortune.

Of course it all went to shite five minutes after she turned up.

The soldiers - Brass Blades, they called themselves - menaced the man as she turned up, and then turned to her. Gritting her teeth, she pulled out her staff, and glanced between each of them.

Well.

She may not have been as she was, but she was still sure she was not to be trifled with. And if they were going to take her, well, she was going to go down swinging and make them regret it every ilm of the way.

And then she felt it, just on the edge of her perception, like so many things were these days.

Creation magics, of a sort.

Stones trembled and rolled and flew together, forming a gigantic golem. She glanced between the soldiers, trying to figure out which one was responsible, but all of them were already fleeing.

"Oh sod everything about this," she snarled. "Oi! Wystan! Get behind me, will ya?"

She rolled up her sleeves and held up her staff, and could feel the tingle of aether flow.

"GET TUMBLED," she yelled, bringing down lightning upon the golem and feeling the pleasant afterglow of thunder.

"Girl could get used to that," she murred, as the golem staggered a few steps back.

And then with blinding speed it charged forward, and the next thing Karasawa knew, her vision was full of stars and the echoing of stone footsteps. She pulled herself up and looked around, and saw that Wystan had been smart enough to find cover.

"Oh, that bloody hurt, that did," she grumbled.

"Yes! Writhe! Writhe in enteral darkness!" a voice called out.

She frowned, looking around for its source, and - there.

A man, in dark robes with silver finery. And... a familiar style of mask on his face.

"Aw, you have got to be shitting me," she said, and then she was flying through the air again, the golem's fist meeting her once more.

This time she was a bit slower coming to, and she blinked up just in time to roll to the side before two mighty fists buried her into the sands.

"I AM GOING AFTER YOU NEXT, ARSEHOLE!" she yelled at the masked man as she ran. Lighting burst forth from her staff again, just enough to stagger the golem. It crackled and hit two, three more times, each time taking a step back.

And then there was a pause, as it steadied itself, getting its footing back.

And that's when the fireball Karasawa had been channeling crashed from the heavens and drilled into its core, shattering it.

"WOOP WOOP," she yelled. "Got you, you absolute bloody postweight! Who's next!?"

She looked around, but the masked man was gone.

"Sure do hate this," she grumbled, as she went to go help Wystan get back to the bar she'd found him at.

And then she felt it again. The increasing sound of resonance, the pressure buildup of flux in her skull.

"Really? Now?" she grumbled.

"What?" asked Wystan.

"Damn, seems I missed all the fun," she heard from behind her. She turned and looked to see the man she'd met at the Sultantree. Thancred, Papashan had called him. He waved as he approached, and she felt the flux in her skull swell to a crescendo.

"I see you didn't need my help this time," the boy said.

"Make yourself useful and get Wystan outta here," said Karasawa. "I gotta take this."

"What?" asked the man - Thancred, his name was Thancred, but sod him, maybe this was Hydaelyn calling back. The world did not shrink away this time, but instead went to grey.

-*-

Memories.

She was dimly aware that these were memories, but they were not hers.

They were his.

The man. The boy's. Thancred's.

Scenes passed through her head. Thancred, jovially entertaining some women even as he eavesdropped on another conversation.

A big angry red ball in the sky falling towards the ground, while Thancred spoke about a ruined harvest and other such matters.

Thancred in prayer, fussing over a device, and coming... here. To here. And now.

-*-

Reality returned, and so did Karasawa, and she blinked.

"...that was new," she said.

-*-

Thancred had, blessedly, taken Wystan to safety. Not without babbling more nonsense at her, of course, and she was beginning to suspect that maybe he was just Like That, but still. Wystan was kept safe, and that was good enough for her.

She'd returned to the Quicksand, and Momodi had been able to fill her in. About the politics of this weird land. About what she had encountered. About who was suspected to be behind it, and she now had a name, Lolorito.

When asked about the cloaked figure with the mask, though, Momodi had only been able to look at her blankly.

Fortunately, her good deeds up until now had endeared her enough to the woman that she now had a permanent invitation to spend her nights at the inn. It wasn't an apartment, but it'd do while Atraxae could heatedly yell in her head while Karasawa tried to look at the situation cooly.

What would she, Karasawa, do?

The man in the robes was all the wrong shape, but then, so was she, wasn't she? The robes were wrong, but then again, so were her own clothes.

The mask, though.

The mask gave her pause.

That could not possibly have been one of her countrymen. They were all slaves to order and boredom and quiet lives of service, not chaos and shouting about darkness and wreaking havoc.

It didn't make sense.

Perhaps a cult in the modern day had found their trappings and adopted them as their own, to lend themselves a bizarre kind of legitimacy?

Or maybe it was something to do with how the star had gone all so wrong, that her dear friend could not spare the time to tell her before he'd had to throw her so far into the future.

He'd want to investigate that further, she thought. Certainly, she did. And that Thancred fellow seemed to know something.

Guide, guard, help, though. She still didn't know enough to guide, but she still had to guard and help.

She sighed, flopping back in her bed, and staring at the ceiling.

"Swivin' hate this," she grumbled. She looked over at her sword, now a staff, and sat up, and took it in her hand.

Magics were one thing, as was standing up against things like golems and creatures from beyond the rift. But keeping people safe? No, a thunderous fireball did not keep people safe.

She frowned, and closed her eyes, and tried to bring to mind the images of warriors past.

The image of the man in the dark robes kept entering her mind, and she growled, frustrated, until at last at thought occurred to her.

If they wanted darkness...

She'd bring it to them.

#ffxivwrite2022 #final fantasy xiv #karasawa atraxae #guard #202209-26 #biot writes #arr

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Valentines Day for Nerds (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s favourite holiday is often taken up mostly by work, but this year his enjoyment doesn’t seem to be as disruptive in the BAU bullpen. The team soon realise why.

AN: It’s a bit late- who am I kidding? IT’S ALWAYS HALLOWEEN IN OUR HEARTS! This was a part of @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap, for the brilliant @agntprentiss <3 

For my smut fic from the swap, check out A Little Indulgence (18+ only!)

Reader uses she/her pronouns!

Word count: 1.7k words

Gif credit to @imagining-in-the-margins​ <3

Your name: submit What is this?

The first breach of boredom was Penelope practically skipping into the bullpen, her arms cradling a bouquet of flowers as if it were an infant. The bold orange roses contrasted with the dyed black petals of its counterparts as they were planted upon Spencer’s desk.

“Delivery for Doctor Reid!” trilled Penelope, clapping her hands now that they were free of said delivery. Dropping his pen onto his unfinished paperwork, Spencer pivoted the base of the bouquet before he found a small black envelope.

It held a little card with two pumpkins, happy faces carved into them both. Inside were the following words:

 Black is for new beginnings,

Orange is for enthusiasm,

Spooky times are afoot tonight,

Watch out for ectoplasm!

I spent ten minutes trying to think of a rhyme for that. Happy Halloween, Cara Mia!

Y/N xxx

Spencer beamed as he placed the bouquet at the edge of his desk, next to the fake severed hand that now held the card in its stiff fingers. He scratched his bristly cheek. Less than a day until he could shave this off. It’d be worth it though.

“Is it from Y/N?”

He looked up to see Penelope had lingered like a lost spirit, waiting to see if her trials of passing on the bouquet had been worthy enough for her to move onto the next world – her Batcave. She was poised with a hopeful expression.

“Yes,” Spencer said, watching Penelope lean up on her tiptoes as she tried to rein in her delight.

She clapped her hands, her purple painted nails clicking as they tapped together, “Are my two favourite ghost hunters up to much this Hallow’s Eve?”

“We’re going to see the Phantasmagoria re-enactment after we go trick-or-treating with Henry tonight.”

It was hard to ignore the absolute glee with which Spencer spoke. Even if one completely ignored the way his voice carried a light excitement, the way his eyes lit up and his broad smile almost fell off his face was enough to connote that he was very excited for tonight. It was also hard to ignore the mild bemusement on the faces of everyone who heard.

Glad to be back and bearing witness to his elated behaviour regardless, Emily cracked a smile, “Maybe she’ll cling to you when she gets scared.”

A heat crawled up Spencer’s neck and he tried to return to work now in hopes that his gift’s display would be cut off. He’d rather sit in the glow of receiving the flowers without mockery.

To the team’s credit, no one ribbed him for it.

The flowers were not the last gift though.

Soon Penelope reappeared, “Your Cupid has returned with another gift for you!”

As he tore at the paper and revealed an Edgar Allen Poe pin – the titular Raven he instantly attached it to his satchel strap – in pride of place, just like the bouquet.

Derek was the one to notice how Spencer’s sandwiches had been cut into little pumpkins. Some digging and Spencer revealed that he had gotten Y/N to order a cutter online. He held his lunch in one hand, his collection of classic Halloween short stories in the other, with a childish glee that no one wanted to squander.

When Spencer climbed the steps to drop off a file to Hotch around mid-afternoon, Rossi walking behind him noted the brand-new socks. A classic odd pairing, and obviously they were Halloween themed. This kid left no opportunity untaken when it came to celebrating Halloween – more than his own birthday.

But Rossi was not closed enough to get a good look at them, and no one else was as close. So, he recruited Emily and Derek to discover what the pattern was. It was Emily and Derek who upped the stakes by wanting to get a glimpse without arousing suspicion. Now that outright asking Spencer was not an option, the game began as they dropped several pens as an excuse to bend over and strain for a flash of those socks.

Derek eventually resorted to a pantomime attempt at tripping in front of Spencer’s desk and gave the jig up straight away by shouting to a stressed Emily (whilst also catching the attention of Hotch through his office’s blinds): “IT’S IT!”

A few language barriers hurdled later, and hindsight brought them both clarity. The red splodge on Spencer’s ankle was officially defined as a balloon.

“So tell us! What’s the other one?” Emily said, her voice strained with how much she was invested in this single sock.

Spencer hiked up his trouser leg to display the skeletal zombie sewn into the sock. “It’s Curtis Danko from When Good Ghouls Go Bad. Y/N had it commissioned for me!”

JJ was watching nearby, unaffected by the tensions of the sock bet. She knew the film because Y/N had wanted to show it to Henry the other week when she babysat him. But upon further inspection, the R.L. Stine film – while intended for kids – might be a little intimidating for Henry to watch without his profiler mother and godfather, police officer father, and favourite auntie there to protect him from the cursed statue.

No one else in the bullpen knew the film.

The team soon discovered that Spencer was not the only one to be on the receiving end of such gifts. Six o’clock rolled around and Y/N entered the bullpen. She was wearing a fuzzy black scarf, some sparkles shining within the wool. At the tail of it, a lucky black cat patch was sewn onto the end. It caught Rossi’s eye and he hid behind a folder as he smiled. The three times that Spencer had forgone a card game with him (in favour of knitting the scarf on the flights back from cases) had been riddled with playful teasing. It was good to see that it was worth it.

Especially when Spencer saw Y/N wearing it and his back snapped straight up. His chair flew backwards, spinning around with the effort that Spencer had launched himself from it, and he and Y/N embraced each other with casual affection.

“How was work today?”

“Not as boring as I thought. But, I have to say: I’m meant to call you Cara Mia.” Spencer’s eyes darted to the card Y/N had sent that morning.

Y/N caught onto his meaning, “Should I stop?”

“Never.”

She rubbed her nose against his and Spencer went pink again, giggling like a teenager. True, he was as smitten with Y/N as Gomez was with Morticia. Then he remembered he was in the workplace as Y/N went to greet the rest of the team, and Spencer’s pink became a scarlet.

“Aww, Pretty Boy,” Derek grinned at him from his desk chair, “You’re so cute!”

“It’s like Sergio!” Emily said, admiring the scarf with her thumb rubbing over the stitches around the cat patch.

“Make sure he’s safe tonight,” Y/N squeezed her hands for a second.

Then JJ appeared from her office, coat and bag over her arm, and she, Y/N, and Spencer wished the bullpen a Happy Halloween before they left.

They had three hours before the Phantasmagoria started. Plenty of time to get ready.

Henry was right behind the front door of his home. The second it opened, he bounced at Spencer’s feet, his tiny hand clutching onto two of his fingers to drag him inside. He was babbling away at such speed that Y/N could barely keep up. She gave Will a wave across the ironing board where he was diligently ironing Will’s cape.

“Well don’t you look handsome!” Y/N beamed at Henry while JJ combed his hair back, slick with gel. It was something he agreed to but only if Spencer was doing the same. Which he was, occupying the downstairs bathroom as he prepared his own costume.

The moment Spencer had finished shaving everything bar the moustache, he was plonked in front of the television. Henry smoothed out his cloak and put in his plastic fangs in to watch the rest of his new favourite Halloween film, The Little Vampire. He mumbled along with Rudolph’s lines and sat enraptured as he pointed out to Spencer the flying scenes. Luckily for him, Will and JJ were getting dressed as Frederick and Freda Sackville-Bagg upstairs to join in the Halloween spirit – last year’s Halloween date night disaster long forgotten.

Henry put in his plastic fangs and hissed at Y/N who emerged in her long sleek black dress. As she stepped across the room as elegantly as Morticia, Spence spied that she was wearing the black spiderweb tights he had bought her today.

“Hello, Gomez,” She smiled radiantly at Spencer, smoothing out his suit jacket as he stood before her. He presented her with a red rose that matched her lipstick to a tee.

As she breathed in the flower’s scent, he kissed her cheek, enjoying her giggle at the bristle of his ‘stache, “You’re stunning.”

“Thank you, and you’re handsome as ever.” She swung their linked hands between them in the opposite way she poised on her tiptoes. “Maybe we should have taken a tango class.”

And she laughed loudly at Spencer’s wincing at such a thought.

“It’s ok, Cara Mia. I’ll settle for a kiss instead.”

Oh, that was something he could do forever. He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles then the inside of each wrist.

Unfortunately, Henry interrupted the stream of kisses that were headed in Y/N’s way. “Ready to go!” He skipped his way between the happy couple.

It was hard to be mad at Henry, especially with how adorable he looked beside his parents and with his bright orange pumpkin bag ready to collect candy. He felt safe with his four favourite adults guarding him.

“Tonight,” Y/N whispered into his ear and he could hear the smirk in her words, “After the Phantasmagoria.”

Spencer beamed, his dimples delightfully framing that smile. One day maybe, they would have their own Wednesday, Pugsley, and Pubert to join them. And maybe then Derek would dress up as Uncle Fester.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #my writing #fic swap #r: female #wc: 1k+

[thatesqcrush]

Retrouvaille

Rafael Barba x Reader. For @barbasimp - winner of Holiday Bingo. Prompt: Maybe a fic where Rafael and the reader were a thing before he left new york after the incident, but when he comes back he sees how close Carisi and the reader are and gets HELLA JEALOUS.

AN: This takes immediately during 22x04, “Sightless in a Savage Land.”  Script found here.  Coffee reference (above and in the fic - from 19x9, Gone Baby Gone.

AN2: Using “Sway” by The Kooks for VDay bingo. Lyrics denoted in bold.

AN3: Retrouvaille is a French word meaning rediscovery - the happiness of meeting or finding someone after a long separation. 

Warnings: language & smut (p in v sex, implied cunnilingus).  WC: 3.3K

****

To say you were anxious was an understatement; your leg bounced restlessly as you and your Captain sat in the diner. It had been unbearably cold and despite still wearing your parka and the hot cup of coffee in front of you, you could not warm up.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Olivia replied as she poured some milk into her coffee. She stirred the coffee with one hand and reached out to grab your hand from across with the other. “You don’t have to be here.”

“Nope, I am good.” You replied coolly, your lips emphasizing the ‘p’ sound. You looked out the window, watching the people mill about on the street. A blast of cold breezed through the diner. You looked past Olivia and you felt your stomach flop at the sight of the man approaching the booth. You stood and switched sides of your seat, choosing to sit next to Olivia.

The last time you saw Rafael Barba, he was worn and depressed, with tears lining his eyes as he stood in front of the courthouse. It was there he poured his love for you making your heart swell before he shattered it into a million pieces as he broke things off with you. You were a wreck after, to the point you needed to take time off to get your affairs back in order. The apartment you shared with him was no longer your safe space  and no longer inhabitable. Rafael told you to keep the engagement ring. You took it off that night and left it in a lock box at your bank. Photos of you and him during happier times were taken down from your locker and tossed in the trash. Plans for the future - for a shared life together were gone, like a sandcastle being washed away by the sea.

Now Rafael appeared just as handsome as he did all those years ago. His hair was a more pronounced shade of salt and pepper and instead of being clean shaven, a beard graced his face. The infamous camel pea coat was swapped out for a grey one. Instead of a three piece bespoke suit under it, he wore dark jeans and a blue and pink checkered shirt. He turned to the counter and requested a coffee before he sat down in front of you. 

“Barba.” You greeted, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Olivia!” Rafael replied brightly. He shrugged his coat off and looked at you. “Y/N, it’s good to see you again.”

You didn’t reply, instead choosing to sip your coffee once more. Rafael shifted in his seat and looked at Olivia. “So--”

“Liv’s said you’ve been busy.” You spoke, cutting him off. “What have you been up to?” 

You knew Rafael had kept in touch with Olivia. She had mentioned Rafael here and there in conversation with you and the squad.

You knew Mickey Davis deserved a good defense. You were, however, caught off guard when Olivia suggested that perhaps Rafael could help secure a deal. You didn’t even know he was back in New York.

“Consulting with the Innocence Project, defending voting rights on the ground. I've barely slept since the election ended.”

“Liv said once everything cleared up, you might consider doing defense work.” You continued. 

“Her case or Fin’s?” Barba asked. 

“The city settled one of Fin’s. Liv's still waiting on her day in the barrel, but that's not why we're here. 

“It should be -- sorry.” Rafael shrugged, looking at Olivia. 

Olivia gave Rafael a small smile. “Hypothetically, if we... arrested a defendant who was not innocent…”

“Decorated vet. Six tours in Afghanistan. Comes home to find his daughter raped by her foster father--” You interjected. 

“And he shoots the guy point-blank range three times?” Rafael questioned. Both you and Olivia give him a pointed look. “Hypothetically.”

“So you're all caught up.” Olivia replied, now picking up her own cup.

“All right, hold on.” Rafael shook his head. “Did Carisi ask you to intervene on Davis' behalf?”

“Well, actually, Carisi doesn't know that we're here.” You murmured.

Rafael laughed. “Of course not. Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“We wanted to see if you would feel him out. And see if he would cut Mickey a deal.” Olivia continued.

“With Carisi's stomach? He won't have the stomach to take this to trial.” Rafael rolled his eyes. “This case is a dog.”

“Really? Some mentor you are. Not even believing in your protege.” You sneered.

Rafael cocked a brow at you while Liv put a hand on your shoulder, in an attempt to comfort you. You jerked your shoulder away from her, and stood. You tossed some bills onto the table. 

“Sorry, Liv. I thought I could handle this. But I can’t. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You heard Liv call out your name as you stormed out of the diner, but not once did you look back.

Rafael looked at Liv, a frown on his face. “Honestly, I am surprised she didn’t leave sooner.” 

***

You and Phoebe were watching through the double-mirror in the squadroom as Kat and Rollins interrogated a suspect. Phoebe watched as Carisi approached you and she tapped your shoulder, nodding towards him. 

You looked over at Carisi and smiled. “How did voire dire go?”

Carisi sighed, crossing his arms. “It was the Rafael Barba show, charming and cherry-picking jurors for twelve straight hours.”

“He was always a dog with a bone.” You replied. “Walk with me to my desk. I am gonna order some Chinese.”

“I gotta know, Y/N. I saw Barba’s witness list, and he tracked down Ajay's other foster kids, ACS employees, VA shrinks. How big of a staff does he have?”

“I can’t say but know that I am not helping him out.” You hissed in a whisper.

Carisi huffed. “It's fine. Barba was here before me. He was your--”

You held up a hand. “No! That doesn't mean I'm more loyal to him than I am to you. You forget - he broke up with me. He wanted nothing to do with me. Why should I help him?”

Carisi’s ears turned pink and when saw the broken look on your face, he felt shitty. “Y/N, I am so sorry.”

You shook your head. “Dinners on you Mr. ADA and all will be forgiven.”

***

When Rafael entered the squadroom, it was late - he did not expect to see you. But there you were, Carisi perched on the corner of your desk, laughing. Seeing you and Carisi together like that - his jealousy flared and he wondered if there was something more than friendship going on. You plucked food out of the takeout container and offered Carisi a bite. You grabbed a napkin and reached up to Carisi’s face and you were about to say something when you spotted Rafael. Your laughter subsided and you smacked Carisi on the knee and pointed to Rafael. As he made way to your desk, you murmured something to Carisi and made a beeline to the locker room, dropping your food on your desk, causing it to spill a bit. The chopsticks fell to the ground with a clatter.

Rafael paused mid-stride and turned to follow, when Carisi approached him and blocked his path. “Barba, I don’t know why you’re here, but leave Y/N alone.”

“Is there a problem Carisi?”

Carisi jutted his jaw, clearly displeased. “Just leave Y/N alone - you hurt her. I know you never meant to. Don’t make it worse.”

“I came here to talk to her. That’s all.” Rafael huffed, before pushing past the young attorney to follow you, much to Carisi’s protests. 

**

You sat on the bench in front of your locker, crying. You dropped your head in your hands, your body shaking. You heard the sound of footsteps and you stood up, wiping your eyes. 

“Y/N.” Rafael’s voice was dark and deep, and hearing your name escape his lips sent shivers down your spine.

“Rafael! What are you doing here? Y’know you’re really not supposed to be back here!” You hissed, dabbing your eyes once more with your sleeves. 

“I wanted to check in with you.”

“Why? You’re not my boyfriend anymore.” You replied, as you grabbed your belongings. You slammed your locker shut, the metal clanging sound echoed. 

There was another sound of footsteps. Now it was Carisi who arrived. “Y/N, you okay?”

You looked at Carisi. ‘I’m fine. I’ll be out in just a bit.” Carisi nodded and made his way back out. 

You adjusted the strap of your bag. “Move.”

“No, I’m not your boyfriend anymore.” Rafael agreed, but not moving. You stepped to the side and Rafael followed your movement, blocking your way.

“Move.” You commanded. “Now.”

When he did not budge, you let out an exasperated sigh. “Say whatever you have to say. Get it out.”

“I just wanted to say I am sorry for everything. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Rafael replied.

“Suddenly you care? Please, I have plenty of people in my life who have taken an active role in that. I have gotten by just fine since you left.”

“Who? Carisi? Trading in one lawyer for another? You got a kink or something?" Rafael replied haughtily. 

You snorted in derision. “You know what, you can go fuck right off.” You pushed past him and Rafael grabbed your wrist and pulled you flush to him. Rafael met your eyes, they were puffy and red from you crying. 

“What are you--” You began, but Rafael crushed his lips against yours. You were initially stiff, but you relaxed into his embrace, allowing for the kiss to happen. You let out a soft moan and Rafael used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, by sliding his tongue into yours. Rafael wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped yours around his neck, dropping your purse to the ground.

“I love ya.” Rafael rumbled into your ear before dipping his head to your neckline, sucking a mark that you knew you would not be able to hide.

At his words, you pushed Rafael away. “What the fuck? You can’t just barge back into New York, into my life, say that you still love me and expect me to forgive you on the spot!” You were angry, there was a fire in your eyes that Rafael had been at the end of before, and he dropped his head, shamed. He took a seat on the bench and you followed suit, sitting next to him. “Me, the squad… that was always your M.O. - take whatever you want to take - to hurt the ones you love. You never thought about the consequences of your actions on others - nevermind baby Drew.”

“I know. I am an asshole.  I know this is the wrong time and the wrong place but I had to tell you. I love you. And I regret the way I left things with you. And if you tell me you don’t love me - that you still don’t feel the same way - I’ll leave. After the case - you’ll never hear from me or see me again.”

Deep down you knew you still loved Rafael. You had always loved him. You didn’t initially understand why he did what he did with baby Drew or why he left, but with therapy, time, and deep talks with Liv, you understood. It didn’t mean you weren’t angry - you were - but you could see why Rafael felt he had no choice but to leave.

“I need your heart. I need your soul. And getting over you was the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do.” You replied, not answering his question. Your breath was still uneven from the tears you shed. You were worn and all you wanted to do was go home. You stood and slung your purse over your shoulder. “I am going home. Figure your shit out but don’t expect me to wait around.”

Carisi watched as you stormed away, with Rafael trailing behind you. He was going to say something but he noticed how Rafael allowed for the space between you and him to grow. 

***

The following morning you were getting ready for the day as usual. Coffee was brewing, music was blasting, you were digging around for some clean clothes. There was a staccato knock on the door. You ignored it and found a shirt from the pile of clothes and sniffed it.

There was a second knock, this time louder than first. “I am coming!” You shouted as you tugged your shirt on. You huffed as you marched to the door before tripping over a stack of books that you were planning on donating to your neighborhood library.

You swore loudly and hobbled over to the door. Swinging it open, you all but shouted, “What do you wa--”

On the other side was Rafael. Holding a tray of coffee and a paper bag, that you presumed were some kind of sweets. “I know I am the last person you want to see. I don’t know what to do. Um… do you want some coffee?”

You wrinkled your nose, but you took a step forward and plucked the pastry bag from his grasp. You opened it and inhaled the fresh pastries; your stomach rumbled in response. You reached in and grabbed a honeybun. 

“Come in.�� You waved him in before taking a bite of the sticky pastry. Sorry it’s not more neat.”

Rafael made his way in. You entered your apartment, turning the lights on as you made your way in. 

“It’s fine.” Rafael replied as he took in your new-to-him space. There were elements that reminded him of your time together, but it was more uniquely you than anything else.

“You said something yesterday that has stayed in my mind all night long.” Rafael sat down on your couch. 

“Yeah? And what’s that?” You asked, taking a seat across from him. You reached over and plucked the two coffees from 

“I need your heart. I need your soul. All this time away from you has made me realize that. I am sorry for hurting you - for even breaking things off the way I did.” He confessed. “But then I realized, I couldn’t do it. All this time… I still love you.”

You didn’t respond and Rafael felt his heart sink. His stomach knotted and he thought he would throw up. 

You were quiet when you finally did speak. “I still love you too.”

Rafael looked at you, a huge grin on his face. He was overjoyed to hear your proclamation. “So now what?”

You furrowed your brows and an idea came to you, your face brightening. “I suppose we’re due for some makeup sex.”

Rafael blinked. “What?”

You stood up and tugged off your top. “Look, I don’t know about you - but it’s been awhile and I have needs. Are you complaining?”

Rafael stood, shrugging off his coat and also making quick removal of his clothes. “No, not at all. Just not what I expected to happen.”

You were down to your panties. “Just gotta make one call.” Rafael nodded, continuing to undress. You grabbed your phone and called Liv. “Hey, Liv - personal emergency, I won’t be able to make it - no everything will be fine - no you don’t need to come by. I’ll make it up. Thanks.”

You tossed your phone onto the couch and stretched out your hand. “Come on.”

**

Rafael groaned as he pounded into you with punctuated thrusts. You grabbed the sheets desperately as pleasure coursed your body. Being reunited with Rafael was almost too much - no one ever fucked you as well as he did - and no one ever made you feel complete as he did. Rafael pushed your knee higher, changing the angle. His cock hit you at a new angle and you cried out.

“Oh fuck, fuck, yes, just like that!” Your back arched slightly. He dropped his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as he slid his tongue into yours. Rafael quickened his pace and you snaked your hand between your bodies to rub your clit. 

“Gonna… fuck… gonna come…” Rafael groaned. 

“Come for me, give it to me.” You panted. “Need it. Need you.”

Rafael stiffened, groaning your name as he came, filling the condom you insisted he wear for the time being. You continued to rub with one hand as your orgasm approached, you used your other hand to grip his arm tightly. You threw your head back as you cried out Rafael’s name as your orgasm peaked and washed over you. 

Rafael pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead as your body grew slack. He removed himself and rolled his body off yours. He removed the condom, tying it in a knot before disposing it into the trash bin at the foot of your bed. Rafael rejoined you in the bed and you curled into his embrace.

You stroked his chest softly, running the tips of your fingers through his chest hair. “We have a lot to work on.”

Rafael grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I know, hermosa.”

You looked up at him. “For us to work - it’s going to take time. We have a lot to work on - a lot to unpack.”

“As long as it takes. I don’t want to lose you again.”

You propped yourself up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, since we have so much time ahead of us now… why don’t we make up for lost time?” 

Rafael arched his brow and you squealed as he pulled you up on top of him.He kissed you deeply and rolled you onto your back once more. He began to press kisses along your body, shimmying down. 

He got to the apex of your thighs and spread your legs. You met his eyes and he winked before dropping his mouth to you again.

FIN.

***

Tags: @mgarner1227   @madpanda75  @tropes-and-tales @dreamlover31 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @witches-unruly-heart @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03  @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @bisexual-dreamer02 @madamsnape921 @averyhotchner​ @teamsladsandgents @qvid-pro-qvo @alwaysachorusgirl @amelia-song-pond @wanniiieeee  @tintinxtintin @law-nerd105 

#rafael barba smut #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x you #thatesqcrushvdaybingo

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.2 (BAON)

Summary: Jeff has a lot to think about and what better place to do it than at the bar with his best buddy, Stretch?

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationships,  Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags To Come

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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The night wasn’t as young as it used to be, but to be fair, neither was Jeff. After a few hours of sitting on a bar stool, his tailbone would be more than willing to testify on that.

He leaned back against the bar in an effort to take some of his weight off of it, grimacing as he watched the dance floor. Colored lights flashed to the thrumming bass beat over the gyrating dancers and out in the thrashing sea of sweaty human bodies there was a head that was above almost all of them. Stretch towered over most humans and never was it more obvious than right then. The lights reflected off his smooth skull, a living disco ball, and around him other humans were laughing and cheering as they danced.

Edge would be having a conniption right about now and Jeff was a little bemused to find his anxiety having an internal dance competition of its own. Currently it was at ‘chachacha’ levels, watching all those Humans grinding up on Stretch. He didn’t want to think anyone here would hurt Stretch, intentionally or otherwise, but the threat of low HP always loomed. His trust in humanity took a pretty big dip a few months ago outside a Chinese restaurant and he had the scars to prove it.

Jeff took another sip of his drink. His straw crackled against the bottom of the glass as he finished it off, leaving only lonely ice cubes behind and he set it back on the bar as he settled back in for a little spare contemplation.

If he were honest, wasn’t a huge fan of the club scene even before he started dating Antwan. Not that he didn’t like going out but his problems with it were twofold. One, bars sucked to go to alone and back then he didn’t have a lot of real estate in the friend territory and two, it cost money. His disposable cash in those days was a lot like a pink unicorn: nonexistent.

Being friends with Stretch took care of both of those problems but a third loomed up to take their place like an unwanted acquaintance. Put bluntly, Jeff could not dance and until Kevin Bacon showed up to give him a few lessons, he probably wasn’t gonna learn how.

Not that he really minded that much. Guarding their drinks and listening to the music wasn’t a bad way to spend the night.

Besides, Stretch didn’t seem to care if he wasn’t up to evacuating the dance floor. He mostly let Jeff sit at the bar where he tried to look like someone with deep and mysterious thoughts to process instead of the person he actually was, far more likely to accidently spill his drink into his lap than anything else. On either side of him were other people doing the same, a row of wallflowers watching the dance floor with wistful envy.

Mostly Stretch left him to it but sometimes he’d bounce his way back and haul Jeff out for a song, any song, fast, slow, techno-bop, dubstep, didn’t matter to Stretch, he was an equal opportunist when it came to friendly torment and if Jeff felt a lot like Frankenstein’s monster tromping around next to Stretch’s lithe booty shake, eh, that was okay. Sacrificing a little dignity for a friend’s fun times was part of the package.

As far as he knew, Stretch didn’t go out to the clubs often either, but if there was one thing Jeff had learned when it came to Stretch, it was there were no half-measures. If he was in, he was all in, and that included drinking, dancing, and on the weekends, the occasional explosion caused by a thermal reaction. Truly a wide variety of hobbies came into play when hanging out with Stretch and going out to the bars pretty much guaranteed something interesting would happen.

Like the time they met those guys who’d come into town for the last beat poetry night. One of them mentioned liking Stretch’s Intergalactic Beastie Boys t-shirt so Stretch convinced them all to swap shirts and then swapped them around again, until they were all three shirts removed from the one they’d arrived in. Pants were a harder sell and if Stretch were ever hard up for money, he might take up selling ice to penguins because in no time they were all out on the sidewalk, firmly dismissed from Grillby’s over their rampant laughter drowning out the poet’s rambling about the burden of solitude. The Waffle House they ended up at had a less stringent dress code and all of them crammed into a booth to eat greasy breakfast food at two am in their boxer shorts. At least those were all their own and his plain cotton boxer briefs were no match against Stretch’s ‘wanna tickle my pickle’ pair.

He was pretty sure all those guys still followed Stretch on twitter.

He wondered what Edge had thought of Stretch wandering home in an entirely new wardrobe, minus pants. There was no way he didn’t notice, Edge was very intent on fashion, even Stretch’s version of it. Knowing him, he probably made Stretch strip right in the living room and soaked both him and his clothes in Lysol before burning his boxer shorts. The old-new t-shirt Jeff ended up with was hanging in closet even though it was two sizes too big for him. Antwan stole it sometimes for lounging around the house purposes and seeing him in it was always a cheap thrill.

Huh, now that he was thinking about it, he’d gone to the bar more this past year than in his whole life before. Not just with Stretch either, Blue and Papyrus had brought him along for karaoke a few times and that was an experience right there. Their singing was like a vocal interpretation of his dancing and just as painful for witnesses.

He’d even had a drink a couple of times with Red. Well, he’d been a tag along with Antwan but still. Red was still vaguely terrifying, but Jeff had gotten the occasional glimpse under his onion layers. He knew a little of what Edge and Red went through before they came here. His knowledge pretty much barely skimmed the surface, they’d both been soldiers and they might’ve gotten out alive, but not entirely unscathed. Knowing Red’s HP was similar to Stretch’s and he’d still survived? Perspective was a hell of a thing and it paid to look at Red from a slant.

Speaking of perspective, he was definitely liking the music. They were a local band and this place was close to the college, a good spot to hopefully get noticed and work their way up. The bar itself had probably been here for fifty years, the bartop pitted with scratches and scars from college students of yore, the stools definitely up for reupholstering.

It was really no surprise to find out that Stretch knew the current owner. He knew loads of people, wriggled his way into their lives a lot like he’d wriggled into Jeff’s. Only difference was, he didn’t usually let the other person wriggle back and yeah, okay, that metaphor was going in weird places, but the meaning stood. Stretch was good with shortcuts and he knew a lot of people, but he wasn’t necessarily friends with a lot. Jeff was pretty happy to be on the short list.

Knowing people came in handy, too, and bringing Stretch along always came with added perks. Catty only asked him to listen to the bands on the list to get a feel for their sound, but he’d be able to bring her a better report than that since they were going to go meet the band after their set was done. It would give him a chance feel them out, see if they were even interested in participating in the Midnight Monster Jamboree, as Catty had slyly dubbed it. After everything went down in California, they needed some serious good will.

The Monster community had been found not at fault for what happened right away, but Antwan told him court cases would be dragging on for a while yet. When Humans died, other Humans wanted someone to pay, and Monsters were easy scapegoats for unreasonable anger. His team was working their butts off on it, Antwan coming home at night so very tired, mostly falling into Jeff’s arms to sleep and yet still so grimly determined. Jeff couldn’t do much about all that, but he could try his damnedest to get their big public relations event off the ground.

The idea was to have a huge event for Humans and Monsters together and for it to be held in New New Home. Asgore thought that some of the problems with Humans might be a result of them thinking Monsters had something to hide, so what better way to show them who Monsters really were than a chance to see into their supposedly secret lives.

Jeff was on the lowest rung for planning and even from his view, it looked like a nightmare. Security details made up of both Human and Monsters, background checks, food, entertainment. Access was going to be extremely limited and the guest list was daunting; there were going to be some big names in politics and entertainment. That circled back to his job, getting some local bands together for the opening shows. Partly good public relations, but also an earnest desire to help out a few struggling locals with the kind of exposure most groups could only dream about. That was so like Monsters, trying to help others in the midst of helping themselves, but it sure was a lot of damn pegs getting shoved into so many slots.

He didn’t even want to know what Edge’s current schedule looked like.

There was a soft thud behind him and Jeff turned to see the bartender was bringing him another drink. The guy was probably somewhere around his age, unless you were gauging it by his world-weary expression, which probably put him at about right around three hundred.

He must’ve known Stretch, too. When they saw each other, he youthened to a spry two hundred and seventy after a complicated series of fist bumps. As an added bonus, he’d been keeping their drinks topped up and as someone who usually couldn’t even get a bartender to see him much less pour him a drink, Jeff sure did appreciate the VIP service.

He started reaching for his drink, but a sudden tap on his shoulder startled him. He turned around. A guy he didn’t recognize was standing there, not too bad on the eyes and weirdly nervous, enough that Jeff thought he might actually be trying to pick him up before he noticed the guy was holding something out.

“Did you drop this?” the guy said, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. It was a wallet and Jeff automatically checked his back pocket even as his eyes told him it wasn’t his.

He shook his head and the guy nodded, but instead of asking anyone else or handing it to the bartender, he wandered off towards the entrance.

Okay, that was odd. Jeff shrugged mentally, lots of weird people at the bar, maybe he was going to give it to the guy at the door in case whoever lost it noticed when they left.

He forgot about it as Stretch came back from the dance floor, sweat gleaming on his skull and face. That always gave Jeff a little pause, what exact purpose did sweating serve for a skeleton? Maybe he’d ask sometime when he was less busy with work. If Stretch didn’t know the answer to something, the journey to find out tended to be entertaining, and possibly less explosive this time around, although he wouldn’t put the chances at zero.

Stretch grinned at him, still panting, and picked up his own drink, gulping down half of it in one swallow. Jeff couldn’t remember was it was. Stretch tended to order more for the name than the taste, so it was probably something like a slippery nipple or a total screaming orgasm. Whatever it was, a skewer of fruit was floating in it and Stretch fished it out, pulling the cherry off the end with his teeth.

“so what do you think of the band?” Stretch asked, perfectly audible even over the loud music. There was another point of interest; when your voice was produced by magic, it didn’t always obey the rules of sound. “gonna give catty the thumbs up?

“I like it,” Jeff shrugged. He could barely hear his own voice, trusting that magical hearing worked the same way as speaking, “but I’m not the greatest judge of music. That’s why I bring you along.”

Stretch chuckled and propped his elbows on the bar, slouching back. It put him almost at head level with Jeff and the shirt he’d almost certainly borrowed from Edge pulled tight across his ribcage. “think i’m a better simon cowell than you?”

“No, you’re more Paula Abdul, and anyway, two heads are better than one.” Jeff played with the straw in his own drink. “Jokes aside, this is important, I don’t want to mess it up.”

“you’re not gonna mess it up.” Stretch scoffed. He bit a chunk of pineapple in half before polishing off the rest of his drink. “how even? you’re doing double-duty as it is. henry said once they’re finished, we can meet them backstage. i’ll have a chat with them, we’ll see if they’re assholes, and good to go! besides, it’s not like security isn’t gonna give ‘em a good, hard rundown, anyway.”

It was the truth and he knew it, but there was always that niggling little doubt in the back of his mind, that somehow he’d find a way to mess it up, and that would be it. This was so important to the Monster community and his chance to finally payback some of what’d they’d given him. He could do this, Jeff told himself, and he’d do it right.

The band started a new set, something with a low, growling bassline and Jeff turned back to watch, only to freeze as Stretch suddenly spoke again, the single word clear as a bell in church.

“jeff.”

The name caught his attention as much as the tone, Stretch never called him Jeff, it was always Andy or kiddo or whatever nickname was currently floating his proverbial boat. The last time he’d called Jeff by his actual name, he’d been lying in a parking lot in a pool of his own blood. The taste of hot metal was strong on the back of his tongue as he turned back to Stretch, his heart pounding, and some cringing part of him expected to see that friendly face instead as the one that appeared sometimes in his worst dreams, a deathmask with one socket dark and blank, the other strobing orange with grim intensity.

But Stretch only looked like his normal self and when he spoke again, each word was calmly measured and deliberate. "i don't feel right. i think we should go."

Somehow, that was even more alarming, and his worry quickly overshadowed any lingering bad memories that were vying for his attention.

“Sure,” Jeff said, “right now.” He hopped down from the stool. Stretch pushed off from the bar and staggered, leaning hard against Jeff and thank fuck he was light because his height already made it awkward to hold him up. He started to call for the bartender, maybe there was someplace they could sit down in the back while he called Edge, when another guy came up next to them, helping hold Stretch up. Then another on Jeff’s side and he started to protest that he didn’t need help when a voice growled close to his ear.

"Don’t look at me. Keep your mouth shut or I'll kill you."

It was followed by the sensation of something hard butting into his ribs and this could not be happening. This did not happen in the real world, this wasn’t a Jason Bourne movie, there could not be a gun pressed to his side right now. Even his own fear was sitting on the sidelines, pushed out by disbelief as Jeff stumblingly followed the guiding arm around him leading towards the door. The crowd reluctantly parted and next to them, Stretch was shuffling along, his eye lights blown wide and fuzzily diffused. He started sagging, his skull lolling back on his shoulders and around them were murmurs, people starting to notice.

“Hey, what’s going on? Stretch?” From the direction of the bar, and Jeff glanced back wildly to catch the bartender watching with dawning concern. There was no time to say a word, to even mouth a desperate ‘help’ before he was forcibly swung back around and pushed through the door.

The cold night air was like a slap in the face, sobering, and fear was starting to sink its teeth in past his disbelief. The guy next to him was keeping back out of his line of sight and he could only barely see the one on Stretch, dark hair, taller, burly, did he have a gun, too, who were they and why—?

By the entrance, the bouncer looked up in surprise as they walked past. “Hey, Stretch, you guys, okay?”

“Fuck off!” The man holding onto Jeff barked and the gun swung towards the bouncer. There was a beat of incongruous silence broken by the strains of music coming from inside the bar, then a girl screamed, the waiting crowd scattering.

“Fuck! Get them in the car!” A different voice, loud and panicky and he caught another glimpse of dark hair before he was shoved forward again. He stumbled, almost falling to his knees among the cigarette butts that scattered the asphalt, and the memory of another parking lot was strong, the swell of panic gagging him.

He didn’t resist as he was pushed towards a van, the side door sliding open and then he was inside it, collapsing across the backseat.

Weight dropped directly on top of him with a clatter of bones and Jeff grunted, trying to push Stretch off of him enough to sit up. Only to lose his balance again as the van squealed away from the curb, the tangle of his own limbs catching with Stretch’s limp ones.

A new voice barked from the direction of the driver’s seat. “Get their phones, hurry up!”

Rough hands grabbing at them, and Jeff instinctively tried to recoil, but there was nowhere to go. His phone was yanked from his pocket and Stretch didn’t say a word, only breathing with a slurry snore into Jeff’s ear. There was the sound of a power window going down, of tires squealing against asphalt and the inside of the van was too dark to see.

Not that it mattered. Rough hands hauled Jeff upright and the person they belonged to was wearing a ski mask like a fucking heist cliché. Jeff choked back a hysterical laugh, but even panicked amusement took a backseat when ski mask demanded, “Okay, both of you need to strip.”

Jeff only stared in mute horror, barely comprehending as a duffle bag was suddenly thrust at them.

“Change into these,” Ski Mask ordered, “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

There was a pun there, Stretch would have been able to think of one. Would have if he wasn’t lying slumped across the seat. His sockets were still open, but his eye lights were dim and unseeing, the lights were on and no one was home, not quite a pun but it’d have to do.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” Jeff said. He tried not to look at the guy with the gun as he carefully opened the duffle and pulled out the clothes inside, choosing his words with the same care. “He’s…he’s fragile, just a punch and you could kill him. Please.”

“Then don’t make us do anything that’ll get him hurt.”

Good advice from a shitty source.

Jeff scrambled into the oversized t-shirt and sweatpants in the bag, then helped the other…what, kidnapper? Asshole was the strongest contender in his head and that was what Jeff went with. Helped Asshole #2 get Stretch change into his. The guy was brusque but not ungentle, at least, and the second they were finished, the van pulled up next to a dumpster. A fourth asshole sitting in the front seat hopped out, tossing all their clothes plus the bag into it. Four against two, not including guns, not the best odds. Like Jeff would have been much help even if it were mano a mano. He sure as hell wasn’t a fighter past panicked desperation and he wasn’t about to hinge Stretch’s life on that.

“Now, sit back and relax,” said Asshole With A Gun. “You two behave and no one gets hurt, okay?”

Jeff knew a lie when he heard one. He nodded anyway and huddled into the seat, one arm looped around Stretch to offer what feeble protection he could. His skull resting in Jeff’s lap was a familiar weight from movie nights and Netflix marathons. His unconsciousness was not, but he was alive, they both were. It was a place to start.

Jeff kept silent, petting the smooth curve of Stretch’s skull as he watched the streetlights flash by and waited to see what came next.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #original undertale characters #by any other name

[saltytyrus]

hi, ariana! if the losers were a superhero group what would their powers be and how would they have gotten together? would they be popular as heroes or would they be considered vigilantes/menaces?

Hi!!! I had a lot of fun with this, thank you for sending it in Jack! 🤗 

Powers - I honestly kinda struggled here and couldn't choose just one for some (also warning, some are about to be very unoriginal :') 

Bill - Super strength (imo it's very useful but also... kinda basic??? it just feels right 😂) + force field generation

Ben - Invisibility

Bev - Pyrokinesis + telepathy

Eddie - Super speed

Mike - Memory manipulation + Panmnesia 

Stan - Zoolingualism (?? basically just the ability to communicate with animals bec!! imagine him with an army of loyal crows! he would always have a friend, this reddit thread is literally Stan living his best life :')

on top of that, just mind reading in general. He'd probably have a never again rule set in place after making the mistake of reading Richie's once. the material for that is endless 👌

ALSO, I'm being greedy but I'd love for him to have serenity inducement (here's to hoping that I'm getting all these powers/words right 😂)  

Richie - Telekinesis + Teleportation (he would have so much fun with it) 

Popular as heros or as vigilantes / menaces?

I think out of all of them Bill would definitely be a popular hero. I can see him actively and constantly seeking out situations where he can help people. 

While for the other losers, I can see them just trying to lead normal lives. I don't think they would be all that interested in being put on a pedestal or in a spotlight (of any kind). And it's not to say that they wouldn't use their powers to help someone out if need be, just that they wouldn't go out of their way with a purpose of finding something/someone to save. 

But also!!! because of Bill, they would find themselves often tagging along to make sure his dumbass doesn't die 😂 like one week it could be bill, richie & bev, and another just bill & eddie or ben etc depending on whatever he's trying to accomplish

Apart from that I think they all could easily end up being seen as vigilantes/menaces at some point. They would 100% set out to change/fix a system that they see actively harming people instead of helping, and because of that it would be a toss up on who sees them as a hero or vigilante/menace.

How they came together: 

This is where I both blanked and somehow ended up over complicating it 😭 

my brain refused to imagine them ever being separate and unaware of each other, so I was going to stick with them being school/childhood friends

but then I thought of a sky high situation where powers (if any at all) come in randomly throughout teenage years

So for this version powers would come in from age 17-20. The losers would be completely unaware of each other & Georgie still would've died as a kid, but instead by getting hit by a car while out playing. Bill would have a constant need to try and save people and it would later on be a double edged sword because: 

I thought it would be fun to bring Pennywise into this. The losers would each have a neibolt version of themselves that would come out once their powers came in. They'd mirror their abilities, but would only be as strong as the individual loser based on however much they'd use/practice their power. 

(I would probably have to change Stan's power to shape shifting for this to justify the random spider head running around town 😂)

Every single loser would end up being viewed (/framed) as a vigilante/menace of varying extents at some point. And because of Bill's power usage, Neibolt Bill would end up on top- both with being the strongest and fucking up the most shit around town 😭

The neibolt crimes would start out extremely small, like barely even punishable or noticeable aside from those around to actually witness it due to the losers themselves newly having powers.

But as it would add up the losers would begin to receive more and more dirty looks from peers & strangers and rumors would eventually follow. The losers would get so used to being accused of shit at a certain point that it would just roll off their backs. They'd probably chalk it up to bullies targeting them. 

For Richie maybe it would even result in a cop visit to his house- but with nothing more coming of it due to having a solid alibi.

It would be annoying but bearable up until the moment that the rumors got swapped out for video evidence as the crimes became more and more frequent + serious.

I feel like Ben, Mike, and Stan wouldn't surpass the rumor phase while Bill, Richie, Bev and Eddie's neibolt half would definitely land themselves on tape due to their excessive power usage in comparison. 

I love Eddie, he's my favorite character but the idea of him being the first of them to end up on tape is sending me. And it wouldn't even necessarily be over anything crime related, but something extremely embarrassing. Like imagine his neibolt self being found casually lounging in a dumpster on trash day and making the news over it. Just a story along the lines of "halted trash collections earlier this morning due to grimy teenager (Derry news would be that shitty imo 😂) found asleep in a dumpster. We're told that workers had to forcibly remove him after twenty minutes of refusal to leave" 

And with his powers, Neibolt Eddie would've zipped away as soon as he was set on the ground before anyone could've even done anything with him or offered to take him somewhere. 

...I am once again making a disclaimer that I love Eddie dearly, because what if the night before that he had done a little act of rebellion against Sonia & dyed his hair blonde, which in turn just ended up making him look even more guilty 😭

Okay, now for how they actually end up meeting:

For everything to work Bill would probably have to be one of the last to get powers (otherwise he'd end up on the news within months due to his usage & it wouldn't work for how I want it to play out)

Bev and Richie would definitely be one of the first two to get their powers & meet. Richie would randomly teleport into the convenience store she was working at, all out of breath and crouching behind some shelves. Initially she'd be spooked by his random pop in but would take pity, whether it was out of boredom or curiosity, and offer him a hiding space behind the counter (which he'd immediately accept & hop over for some reason despite probably being able to teleport behind it). After some small talk and Richie telling her that he was being chased by Bowers over some shit he didn't do, they'd come to find the common ground of being the brunt end of recent Derry high rumors and from there they'd stick together.

They would later track down the others (minus bill & eddie) by following frequent rumors with the goal of seeing if the same shit was happening to them as well. 

6/7 losers would only realize that everything probably wasn't exactly a rumor once the crimes start getting recorded/aired. They would have Eddie's experience on the news to support the "devil duplicate" theory they'd come to after seeing Bill Denbrough, Derry's beloved hero and now apparent villain make the news. From there they'd set out to track down Bill to find out wtf is happening.

_

my brain is absolutely f r i e d, but I'm jumping back to go over how they found Eddie as a treat for myself  :')

there are 2 versions, not all that different from each other, but one just really highlights Eddie's (knowingly or not) continuous pining over Richie. It 100% follows his neibolt dumpster news report & unfortunate hair-dying-timing.  

Scenario #1 is Richie and Bev walking into the theater to see a (much cleaner!) blonde Eddie. Beverly would manage to keep Richie from immediately running up into his row, but would find her efforts useless five minutes into the previews when he teleports himself into a seat next to Eddie, nearly scaring him half to death. He'd playfully lean on the arm rest with a dopey smile like

"I personally favor the dumpsters up in Bangor but hey, I'm all for going local if you'd like to show me around sometime."

(??idk.idk.idk 😂 originally his opener was just "hey, weren't you on the news recently?" but eh). So anyways, Eddie would be a mess, nearly popping a blood vessel but would later find himself near tears of laughter due to Richie's commentary throughout the movie. Bonus if he tried holding in his laughter out of spite to the point that he broke with a full on snort and turned to see Richie staring straight ahead at the screen, red cheeked & beaming, already preparing his next joke.

Scenario #2 is that Richie works at the Aladdin for the concession stand and recognizes Eddie as he steps up to pay. Opening with "I dig the new look" (referring to his hair that's now growing brown at the roots) and Eddie's confused because he's 98% sure that he's never seen this person before but it clicks immediately as Eddie watches the shit eating grin grow on Richie's face. Eddie, wanting nothing more than to run away again, simply stays put and mumbles out that it wasn't him

And the last response he ever expects to hear is an "okay", sounding just genuine enough for him to look up and see a much softer smile.

It would catch him off guard, having someone finally believe him, or at least not openly fight him on it (even if he's sure that Richie is just humoring him) that he'd often find himself showing up to the theater thirty minutes before his movie, just hovering over the stands by Richie. Clinging to the excuse that it was just someone to talk to while he waited away from the harsh summer weather and the grips of his mother.

Panic wouldn't set in until the day that Richie asks him what movie he's waiting for and completely blanks, not having the slightest clue until peeking down at his ticket.

#hopefully this wasn't too hard to follow or repetitive #i tangled myself up in a web 😭 im going to cringe at this later (but seriously this was a lot of fun!) #the losers club #it #death tw #neibolt losers

[purplehairedwonder]

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 11

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 3537 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Franky, Smoker, Tashigi, Vergo Note: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

The story title is based on the Ellie Goulding song “Hearts Without Chains.”

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he's 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he's repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Smoker’s eyes widened. “Vergo? What is the head of G-5 doing here?”

“I’m here on business, Vice Admiral,” Vergo replied, inclining his head at Smoker.

“We called for backup but were told you were on leave,” the swordswoman said, frowning.

He never said whose business he’s here on, Law thought wryly as he sliced through the chains holding the two Marines captive. He stepped back out of the cage, eyeing Vergo. Law didn’t like the sense of satisfaction radiating off the older man. He’d heard what Law had said—but had anyone else?

“Doffy didn’t believe me before that you’re a traitor, but now he’ll have it in your own words, Law.”

Could Vergo have a line open to Dressrosa? Or perhaps he’d recorded what Law had said.

It also confirmed that Vergo had called Doffy with his report on Law’s defection, but apparently Doffy wasn’t buying it; the Warlord knew full well the safeguards he’d put into place to prevent Law from betraying him, after all. If Vergo had proof, though…

Law needed to make sure those words never left this room.

“I didn’t think you’d be so foolish as to blow your cover over a grudge,” Law commented, raising an eyebrow. He kept his tone purposefully light, but he expanded his Room and kept Kikoku hefted in front of him.

With a quick scan of his Room, he found Zoro’s swords and Shambled them into the man’s hands. Zoro let out a surprised yelp (one Law knew he would deny making until his dying day), and Law’s lip twitched as he glanced back and met the pirate hunter’s eye. The other man’s startled expression quickly shifted into a nod of appreciation as he replaced the blades at his side.

“Cover?” the swordswoman asked, following Smoker out of the cell.

Smoker jerked. “A traitor?” he growled, glancing between Law and Vergo. His gaze finally settled on the base commander. He shook his head, and Law could practically hear the pieces clicking into place in his brain. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. You’re the one who’s been covering up the abductions of the children, aren’t you?”

“Don’t feel too bad, White Chase-ya,” Law said, and Smoker looked back at him suspiciously. “It’s not like Vergo was a traitor to the Marines. Vergo was a pirate from the start.”

“What?”

Law couldn’t help his lip curling into a sneer. “He’s Doflamingo’s most trusted subordinate. He joined the Marines on his orders fifteen years ago and climbed the ranks.”

“A pirate posing as a Marine,” Smoker hissed. “Shameful.” He shook his head, disgusted.

“How dare you,” the captain yelled at Vergo, betrayal tinging the anger in her voice. “Those children are innocent!”

“They’re sacrifices for the greater good, Captain Tashigi,” Vergo said simply. He’d been watching the exchange with a bored affect in place, though Law knew better than to take him at face value; Vergo was always poised to attack.

“The greater good?” the cat burglar snapped. “What greater good could possibly come from experimenting on children?”

“That is super messed up,” the cyborg agreed.

“A world ruled by Donquixote Doflamingo, of course,” Vergo said, as though the answer were obvious. And, Law supposed, for Vergo, it was. “Give me some credit for keeping up my cover, Smoker-kun. I’ve been on my guard ever since you transferred to G-5. It will be good to finally be rid of that concern.”

Vergo turned back to Law. “And who says I’m blowing my cover, Law?” Vergo had completely dispensed with Law’s title, apparently. He’d never respected Law as a successor, no matter how many times Doffy pushed him on it, and now he had the excuse to back it up. “None of them are leaving this island. I’ll file it away as a tragic accident at sea, as always.”

Law narrowed his eyes, reminded once more of the World Government’s coverup of Flevance’s destruction. Vergo, as far as Law was concerned, was proof pirates and soldiers weren’t so different, no matter what people like Smoker professed. Law knew he was no better, but he also never claimed to be.

“I won’t let that happen,” Smoker snarled. He didn’t have his jitte since he’d been captured—and Law wasn’t feeling particularly inclined to return the weapon that had taken him down with Seastone—but he didn’t let that stop him.

Smoker shifted into smoke form and charged Vergo with an outraged yell. He had to know about Vergo’s talent with haki and the effect it would have on his Fruit’s abilities, but he attacked anyway, his fury at his base commander’s betrayal driving him on.

“Smoker-san!” the captain called, worried.

“What is he doing?” Zoro muttered.

Smoker punched at Vergo with a smoky tendril, but Vergo blackened his arm and grabbed the smoke. Smoker cursed as Vergo spun and whipped him into the far wall. Smoker coughed and sagged to the floor. His second and the Straw Hats gasped, but Law took the moment of distraction to Scan Vergo; there was a Den Den Mushi in his pocket.

With a twitch of his fingers, the Den Den Mushi flew from Vergo’s coat toward Law. Vergo’s eyes snapped toward him.

“No!”

Law grabbed the snail from midair, and he pocketed it just as Vergo’s haki-coated stick slammed into his chest, tossing him like a rag doll into the wall behind him. The back of Law’s head hit the metal; his vision briefly went dark, and his stomach threatened to empty itself—another blow to his head was not what Law needed when he already had a concussion—but Law, taking a stabilizing breath, was able to collect his wits and keep his Room from falling. He Shambled himself across the room before Vergo could recover the Den Den Mushi.

“Brat!” Vergo snapped as he turned to find Law slumped over on one of the couches, having swapped places with a pillow. “But I suppose running away is always what you’ve done best.”

Law could vaguely hear the Straw Hats making some kind of commotion, though their words wouldn’t form in his ears; his blurry vision, however, was directed entirely toward the man striding toward him, a murderous intent barely contained beneath his haki-clad skin; Vergo knew he couldn’t kill Law before bringing him back to Dressrosa, but that wouldn’t stop him from beating the shit out of him—again.

Law just needed a moment to bring his vision back into focus…

Suddenly, Vergo was flying across the room. He crashed into the far wall and crumpled. Law blinked, his battered brain trying to comprehend what he was seeing. Belatedly, he turned to see Straw Hat, flanked by his crewmates, standing in the doorway, his rubbery arm returning to him with a loud snap.

Before dealing with that, Law pulled Vergo’s Den Den Mushi from his pocketed and noted in relief that there wasn’t a live line open. That meant Doffy hadn’t been listening in. Vergo still could have recorded his words, but Law would worry about that later. If Doffy hadn’t heard Law, then all Law had to do was prevent Vergo from bringing his words back to Dressrosa.

He pushed himself to his feet and headed toward the new arrivals. His vision was clearing, but his balance was still slightly off. The doctor in him was concerned, but the pirate in him knew he didn’t have the luxury of taking a break.

The two factions of Straw Hats were greeting each other happily. Straw Hat’s expression lit up as Law approached.

“Torao!”

“What are you doing here, Straw Hat-ya?” Law demanded. “We agreed you would wait.”

Straw Hat frowned. “We were talking, but then there was all this chaos on Torao’s end of the line. No one was responding. It sounded dangerous, so we decided to help.”

Ah. Law supposed he had gotten distracted by Vergo’s appearance and hadn’t considered how that would have sounded to the Straw Hats listening in.

“So, what exactly happened to cause this?” the cat burglar asked, gesturing between Straw Hat and Law. Though she’d agreed to trust Straw Hat, she was still suspicious of Law—and she was right to be.

Still, Law ignored her. They didn’t have time for this; Vergo wouldn’t stay down long, even after taking a hit like that.

“If you want to rescue the children, this would be the time to do it,” he said.

“What about him?” Straw Hat asked, nodding back toward Vergo.

Law grimaced as he noticed Vergo stirring. “I can handle it.”

“Because that went so well before,” Black Leg muttered.

Law ignored him as well. He didn’t have Seastone draining his abilities now. “I’ll handle it,” he repeated, looking directly at Straw Hat. Vergo might be taking an excuse to finish what he’d started thirteen years earlier, but Law wasn’t a terminally ill child anymore. It was unfinished business for them both.

“Luffy, what—” the cat burglar started.

But Straw Hat studied Law’s face for a long moment and seemed to find whatever he was looking for because he nodded. “Okay.”

Law felt a measure of relief at the response; it wasn’t that he needed Straw Hat’s permission to take on Vergo—alliance or not, he wouldn’t let anyone take this fight from him—but having his agreement was a lot easier. His crew would follow his lead, and they’d be able to accomplish both their tasks and move on to rescuing Law’s nakama.

“What?” several Straw Hats gasped.

“Okay,” Straw Hat repeated. “Torao will handle the Verto guy, and we’ll go after the kids.”

“You think I’m going to let that happen?” Vergo said. He’d risen to his feet and stood, arms crossed, in front of the doorway the Straw Hats would need to go through to find the children.

Straw Hat made to draw his arm back again, but before he could strike, Law held out a hand. Straw Hat stopped, eyeing Law curiously.

“Go. Caesar and Monet are still with the children. They’re both Fruit users, so don’t take them lightly.”

“But—”

Law Shambled Vergo into the cage, and, with a few twists of his fingers, retwined the wires holding the front of the cage together. The doorway was now open, and Vergo cursed. The cage wouldn’t hold him long, but it didn’t need to—just long enough for the others to leave.

Straw Hat whooped. “Thanks, Torao!” he called as he charged forward, the promise of a fight clearly drawing him like a magnet.

“Wait, Luffy!” the cat burglar called, running after her captain. “You don’t know where you’re going!”

Straw Hat’s laughter echoed against the metal walls as the Straw Hats and, Law noticed, Smoker’s second filed out of the open doorway. Smoker, however, remained where he was; he’d gotten to his feet while Law was talking to the Straw Hats. Law narrowed his eyes at the other man.

“This is my fight, White Chase-ya. Stay out of my way.”

“That man is a traitor to the Marines, and I plan to see justice done,” Smoker said, voice tight, as he strode up next to Law. “Don’t get in my way, pirate.”

Law and Smoker both turned at the sound of a metallic slam; Vergo had kicked the cage’s front out, the metal wiring sliding several feet across the floor before coming to rest. Though Vergo’s eyes were still hidden behind his glasses, Law could feel the anger radiating off the man.

“Enough,” he snapped, stepping back into the room.

“My thoughts exactly,” Smoker roared, charging at Vergo. “Traitor!”

Law sighed but didn’t intervene. Though he thought the man was being foolish considering how his previous attack had failed, Law could understand his rage at realizing Vergo, the base commander of his own unit, was a traitor.

However, Smoker wouldn’t get an advantage on Vergo this way; Vergo’s haki was superior to the other vice admiral’s. The first Corazon didn’t have a Devil Fruit to enhance his attacks, so he’d trained and honed his haki over the years until his masterful control and overwhelming power became what he was known for. For a Logia like Smoker, Vergo was a bad matchup.

Still, if he wanted to wear Vergo down while Law took a few moments to rest, Law wasn’t going to object. At full strength, Law wasn’t particularly concerned about taking Vergo on, but he didn’t want to take any chances when he was unsteady with a head injury. As the two vice admirals clashed, Law scanned the room until he found Smoker’s jitte. He could still feel the ghost of the Seastone tip slamming into his back, causing his Room to fall around him as weakness spread through his entire body. Law grimaced, but, grudgingly, he summoned the weapon into his hand.

“White Chase-ya,” he called as Smoker fell back from a swipe of Vergo’s bamboo stick.

“What?” Smoker demanded, not looking toward Law.

“Catch.” He tossed the jitte in the man’s direction.

Smoker’s eyes flicked in his direction then widened as he saw his weapon flying in his direction. He sent a smoky arm toward it, grabbing the hilt before Vergo could interfere. He grunted a nod in Law’s direction, clearly unhappy to owe Law anything else.

Even with his jitte, Smoker was clearly outmatched. Vergo’s haki-coated arms were able to strike Smoker’s smoke form, forcing him to revert to his base form. They traded blows, Vergo’s bamboo stick with Smoker’s jitte. Vergo’s haki-enhanced hits pushed Smoker into retreat.

“It’s no use, Smoker-kun,” Vergo taunted. “You’re no match for me.”

“You’ve betrayed G-5. The men trusted you. I’ll see you pay for that, pirate,” Smoker snarled back.

Vergo side-stepped Smoker’s blow and looked at him curiously. “You seem to care for those morons. Why?”

Smoker leapt at Vergo, only to be pushed aside by his bamboo. “Because they’re my men!”

Vergo tsked. “And that is your problem, Smoker-kun. Placing loyalty in trash. You will only end up discarded along with them.”

Smoker roared in response, but Vergo kicked out and tripped Smoker. Smoker fell backwards, hissing as his back hit the floor. His eyes widened as Vergo suddenly appeared above him, ready to strike a killing blow with his bamboo.

Deciding he’d seen enough, Law twitched his fingers, sending Vergo to the far side of the room.

“Law,” Vergo growled when he realized what had happened. “Don’t interfere. I’ll have time for you, too.”

Law rolled his eyes and turned back to Smoker. “Enough, White Chase-ya.”

“Dammit, Corazon! I can still—” He broke off, wincing at what Law would guess were broken ribs from Vergo’s many haki-enhanced blows.

“I can see that,” Law replied wryly. “Don’t make me move you, too.”

Smoker glowered but didn’t argue.

As Vergo started charging back toward Law and Smoker, Law Shambled himself across the room, directly into Vergo’s path. He swung Kikoku, but Vergo dodged just in time. A large chunk of the wall behind Vergo came down with a loud clatter. Law swung his blade several more times to create smaller pieces of metal from the fallen wall.

Law turned on his heel and immediately jumped back toward Vergo, using Kikoku to block a flurry of blows. His arms shook under the strain of countering the strikes, but he gritted his teeth then powered forward, driving Vergo back.

Lifting a finger, Law used Takt to lift the metal pieces he’d created and hurled them toward Vergo. The vice admiral cursed and dodged the large sheets of metal, knocking those he couldn’t dodge away with his stick.

“What’s wrong, Vergo?” Law taunted as he ducked under the flying pieces of metal to approach his target. “Not so easy when your target isn’t shackled in Seastone?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Law.”

Law sent a large piece of metal Vergo had already knocked away back toward Vergo and ducked behind it; Law followed its path, so when Vergo knocked it out of his way again, he jolted in surprise as Law suddenly appeared. He swung his bamboo to push Law back, but Law ducked under Vergo’s outstretched arm, catching the man off-guard.

Law shoved his free hand forward into Vergo’s chest. Mes.

Vergo gasped as his heart was expelled backward. He slumped forward as Law summoned the heart into his hand.

“Bastard,” Vergo hissed.

To his credit, Vergo’s heartrate remained steady as he kneeled in front of Law. Even now, he wouldn’t let his successor rattle him.

“I have your life literally in my hand, Vergo­,” Law said, eyeing the heart. “I’d watch my tongue if I were you.”

“And what will you do with it, boy?” Vergo sneered, looking up. “Kill me?”

As Law felt the heart pulse steady in his hand, memories of Minion Island flashed in front of his mind’s eye.

Finding Vergo as he looked for help for the fallen Cora-san.

Vergo and Cora-san recognizing each other.

Vergo beating the wounded Cora-san, taunting him all the while.

Vergo beating Law, no sympathy for a dying child.

Vergo leaving them both, battered and bloody, in the snow to report to Doflamingo.

Law squeezed the heart, and Vergo writhed on the ground, pained groans coming through his clenched teeth.

Cora-san. Law released his grip on the heart. Vergo let out relieved gasps and slowly stilled.

“Corazon,” Smoker said slowly, as if afraid to spook Law. “He needs to face justice.”

Cora-san had always believed in justice. He hadn’t wanted to kill Doflamingo but bring him in. He wouldn’t want to kill Vergo either but instead, like Smoker, to bring him to justice.

Law wasn’t like them.

“Justice,” he scoffed bitterly, eyes never leaving the heart in his hand. “Where was justice when my little sister collapsed from Amber Lead Disease at seven years old and died as my parents’ clinic burned to the ground? Where was justice when soldiers destroyed my country then covered it up?” Law could hear his voice rising in his ears as he spoke, but he didn’t care. Years of pent-up rage flowed through his veins. “Where was justice when the man who saved me was murdered for it? Where was justice—”

He cut himself off at the sound of Vergo’s choking laughter, throat tightening as he realized what he’d just said.

“There’s no such thing as justice, Smoker-kun,” Vergo said between pained gasps. “There is only strength and weakness.” He turned his head to stare at Law. “And your precious Cora-san was weak, Law. Just like you.”

Fury rising in his chest, Law squeezed the heart again, Vergo’s screams a melody to his ears.

When Law let go of the heart once more, Vergo collapsed to the floor and panted. For years, Law had waited for the chance to avenge what Vergo had done to him and Cora-san that night; Vergo had haunted his nightmares, a looming figure of cruelty. But now, laid out on the ground and trying to hold onto his pride in his defeat, Law thought he looked pathetic.

And just like that, the fury drained out of him, leaving him feeling oddly hollow.

“So now what, Law?” Vergo asked between gasps for air. “You can’t kill me.”

Law raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“What do you think Doffy would do to you if you did? To your crew?”

Law barked a humorless laugh. “If he thinks I’m a traitor, we’re all dead anyway.” He narrowed his eyes. “Might as well take you with me.”

Vergo frowned. “You know how the Family deals with traitors.”

“I do,” Law agreed.

“He’ll never let you go,” Vergo said. “Not until he’s done with you. Wherever you go, he’ll find you.”

“I know.” That was why he’d return to Dressrosa once his business here was done. “Don’t worry, Vergo-san. I’ll file it away as a tragic accident at sea.”

He tightened his grip around Vergo’s heart, watching as the man writhed. He felt… nothing. Vergo coughed blood, but the satisfaction Law had expected to feel at the sight of Vergo dying at his hands was missing, sucked into the hollowness in his chest.

“Corazon, you don’t have to do this,” Smoker spoke up. “I can take him in.”

Law tightened his grip further. “You really think Doflamingo would let his favorite subordinate be locked up in Impel Down?”

“Even Warlords don’t have the power to stop something like that,” Smoker replied with a frown.

Law shook his head. “He has more connections than that, White Chase-ya.” If Vergo left Punk Hazard alive, Law and his crew were assured slow, agonizing deaths. If Law killed Vergo now, there was still a chance this could be salvaged.

Vergo huffed a strained laugh around his cries. “He’s. Right. Smoker-kun. You. Have. No idea. Who. You’re. Dealing with.”

Smoker looked between the two pirates and shook his head but said nothing. Law continued squeezing the heart, waiting to feel something after all this time.

“What’s wrong, Law?” Vergo panted. “Don’t have. The stones. To finish it?”

“Hardly.”

Law closed his fist completely, crushing the heart until Vergo let out a final bloody gasp then went limp.

Still feeling that odd emptiness, he opened his hand dropped the still heart next to the corpse.

“That was for Cora-san.”

Next chapter

#I've had this plotted out for a while #but was struggling to get it on the page #I really like how it turned out though #Trafalgar Law #Vergo #Smoker #One Piece #One Piece fanfic #One Piece fanfiction #Caitlin's fic

[grouptalekindnesssoulstories]

Prince Lee? Zuko the Tea Server

@fyrelordzuko i got some inspiration from your post. It sounds adorable. 

I decided as writer that I wanted more homosexual pining/tension. So I edited events to make it so! (Also Jet’s accusation was hard to find. Like, seriously you’d think there’d be more clips of it but noooooo)

Warnings: There’s some switching of perspective and names. ~ <- means a change in perspective (--) <- means time passes. When Sokka is the focus, Zuko is Lee. Otherwise I think I called him only Zuko?? IDK

“Uncle, that’s one of the avatar’s friends” Zuko tugged on Iroh’s arm, pointing to the customer who had just walked in. 

“Yes, so?” Iroh sighed to himself. He’d just gotten Zuko to stop obsessing over the group. 

“So, do you think he’s here to attack me?” Zuko’s voice was so scared and raw, and Iroh wanted nothing more than to just hug him. The banished prince acted so much older than his 16 years that hearing him just be 16 was good. Iroh wished it were something other than fear, but he’d take it as it came. He settled for calming his nephew’s nerves for now. 

“It’s broad daylight. He won’t do anything, and besides he hasn’t confronted you. He seems like the type to use the others for witnesses, so if he hasn’t said anything, you’re fine. Now, go take his order before he starts to get suspicious” Iroh gently pushed Zuko towards the table where the other kid sat. 

~~~~

“What can I get you?” A quiet voice interrupts Sokka’s thoughts. He looked up and his mind went completely blank. There was another boy around his own age, with black hair that looked so fluffy. One of his eyes had a burn mark over it, and Sokka immediately trusted him. It looked like the fire nation was no friend to this guy either. 

“Recommend?” Sokka croaked out after a second. That stupid face crinkled in the cutest way. 

“Huh?”

“What do you recommend! I’ve never had much..tea” 

“Oh. Jasmine tea is my favorite, and my uncle is the best at making it in my opinion” Sokka nodded and the boy started to walk away. 

“Wait, what’s your name?” 

“Oh, I’m Lee” The boy moved too quickly for Sokka to introduce himself. Lee comes back half an hour later bearing a teacup, placing it in front of Sokka. 

“I’m Sokka” 

“I know” Lee acknowledged that fact with an almost familiar smile. Sokka couldn't place it, but it set his heart on fire. Lee retreated once more, and barely reappeared until Sokka paid and left. 

~~~

“Zuko, are you alright?” Iroh asked after the shop was closed for the night. There was a small smile on his face, but it looked like he had aged several years. 

“I’m fine Uncle. Just....tired” Iroh pressed a hand to his nephew’s forehead worriedly. No sign of a fever. 

“Well, get some rest. I’m sure it was a one time occurrence” Iroh soothed, getting their apartment tidied for the night.  

----It wasn’t----

“Uncleeeee he’s baaaack” Around the same time the next day, Iroh was interrupted by Zuko tugging on his arm. Spirits, was this going to happen every day now?

“Well, go ask his order. This is a tea shop after all” Iroh was far less gentle pushing Zuko out from behind the counter this time.  

“What can I get for you today?” Zuko approached the water tribe kid awkwardly, repeating his standard customer greeting automatically. 

“Lee! you were right, the tea was amazing” Sokka visibly brightened the moment he heard Zuko’s voice. It was nice for once to see him not react defensively. Made Zuko smile a little wider. 

“Yes, like I said, Uncle is very good at what he does” 

“Well, can I get the same thing” Zuko nodded, turning to deliver the order. When he came back, Sokka was hunched over a map and a schedule, muttering to himself. 

“What’s that for?” Zuko asked, leaning over as he set down the tea. He had some time to just sit and talk, long as it remained this quiet. 

“Huh? Oh. I’m trying to get in to speak to the king, but we have a deadline. Plus, we haven’t seen Zu-someone in a while. And Appa is still missing.” Sokka was too distracted to notice the nervous half-stand Zuko dropped into.

“Maybe the person you’re looking for is on vacation? And the King is uh...private. So good luck with that” Zuko eased down again, glancing towards his uncle. The former general gave a slight nod, face uncharacteristically serious. 

“Maybe he got his honor back at last. It was restored by Azula!” Sokka huffed a laugh, shifting to pay attention to his companion. Zuko was gaping, his mouth open like a fish’s. After a moment he started to laugh from the sheer ridiculousness. His sister restoring his honor? She was the one who’d driven him to come here. Though his uncle was so much happier now, and it was nice without the pressure of being Prince Zuko. 

“...Perhaps-” he tried to suck in some more air “-anyway, you mentioned someone named Appa is missing?”

“Yea, my buddy’s air bison. It’s how we’ve gotten around since I left the south pole” Sokka shrugged, not realizing the mess that was Zuko’s mind. Because, first of all, damn those muscles were fine. Second, the avatar didn’t have his spirit guide and the bison had a name. 

“That’s-that’s ummmm”

“I have to get back anyways. See you Lee” Sokka stood up before Zuko could do more than stammer a vague response. 

He came back every day after that. Sokka lit up Zuko’s entire day, and he never wanted to go back. Iroh began looking forward to closing time since that was when his nephew truly lived. It was, to put it simply, the best thing for his heart. Until it wasn’t. 

“We’re making plans to invade the day of the black sun. We’ll have the advantage, especially if I can figure out this last piece” Sokka was busy writing situations in his messy shorthand as Zuko leaned over his shoulder, listening and pointing out flaws. He’d figured out they planned to attack the fire nation capital, but he found he didn’t care. For the first time in his life, he felt happy and there were no strings attached. He and his uncle had found a place to carve out a life, free of the fire lord. There was the problem of who would take over, but that was a problem for future Zuko. Then that hotheaded prick walked in. 

“That old man is a firebender! I saw him heat up his tea!” Jet yelled, glaring at Iroh. All of the patrons swapped glances. A pair of soldiers were the first to speak up. 

“Kid, he works in a tea shop. That’s his job” 

“He heats the tea with firebending! I saw him” 

“You’re confused. How about you come with us...” the other soldier said, rising slowly from his chair. 

“No! Fight me old man, and i’ll prove it to you” Jet drew his swords, ready to fly at Iroh to prove his point. 

“You want a show? I’ll give you a show” Zuko straightened completely, drawing the closest soldier’s swords. 

~~~

“Lee, be careful!” Sokka called, drowning out Iroh’s cry of “Zuko, no!” Sokka tried to jump in and help, but the pair were moving too fast and too precise. He didn’t dare jump in and risk Lee’s life. And damn was it hot. Lee ignored all of Jet’s taunts, using those swords as if it were his only weapon. Finally some more guards intervened, taking Jet away. Lee returned the swords and slipped into the crowd. 

“Uncle, can I get some of your special tea? Seeing him again was nerve-wracking” Sokka heard Lee say. He sounded so conflicted and tired. Sokka wanted to run in there and hug him. 

“Of course, we’ll close the shop early today. We both need to lie low for now. Hopefully that’s the end of it, but we should pack just in case” The old man’s voice was muffled. Sokka couldn’t remember his name. Wait, they knew Jet? Was...could Lee have been an old flame of Jet’s? Before he became so...back-stabby. Sokka decided now was not a good time to run to the other boy. He’d think over this and process whatever was sitting so heavily on his heart. 

----

“Uncle, I haven’t seen Sokka in days” Zuko paced the floor a few days later. After what had happened with Jet, Sokka hadn’t returned. 

“Maybe he had to go do something. You said he was looking for the avatar’s sky bison. Or is it buffalo? I can never tell...” Iroh mused, a cup of tea in his hands. 

“Uncle, this is serious. He hasn’t been here in a week! He never misses more than one day!” Zuko’s pacing increased as his panic rose. 

“Zuko, take a deep breath. We just got through a scare about someone figuring out who we were. I’m sure you’ll get a letter soon saying he had to leave for his invasion” Iroh beckoned the teenager to the table. he sat reluctantly, taking his uncle’s hand. Iroh guided him through some de-stressing methods. As they were finishing, a knock came at the door. Iroh stood to answer.

“The king has requested your presence. He would like you to serve tea to him. He wishes you to come now” A soldier stood there stiffly, his face expressionless as he delivered his message.

“Serving tea to the king? What an honor. We will be ready in one moment. I must grab my good pot!” Iroh beckoned Zuko over, handing him the pot and leading the way after the soldier. 

~~~~/-----

“Zuko, get out of here! Make sure the Avatar does too!” The old man pushed his nephew towards Sokka and his friends. Azula had taken over the castle and they needed to get the king and get out now. 

“Follow me. I know a way out” Lee, no Zuko, pulled Aang after him. 

“No! We need to get Katara!” Aang pulled back, stopping the escape. 

“Fine! But stay close to me” The prince turned around, running deeper into the compound. “Uh, Miss-, whatever I need you to see if you can find her with your earthbending!” 

“Turn left and then I can dig down!” Toph yelled, pointing towards a patch of grass with flowers sprouting out of it. 

“Hurry! I can hear pursuit!” Sokka yelled, pulling out his boomerang. 

“Twinkle toes! Help me dig a hole!” Toph yelled and Aang began pushing dirt out beside her. 

“They’re coming from the opposite way now. Azula won’t be far behind, Uncle’s only one person and she seems to have an army” 

“You would know, wouldn’t you, Prince Zuko!” Sokka yelled, turning on the prince. He didn’t miss the way his expression crumbled. Not the time Sokka, not the time!

“Get in! Now!” Toph yelled, breaking up their fight. Zuko hesitated as the rest jumped in.

“Go, I’ll hold them off. I can do that at least” Zuko’s face had that sorrowful smile that Sokka had gotten to know so well in those first few weeks with Lee. 

“That’ll give them a hint. Get in idiot!” Toph yelled and Sokka grabbed Le-Zuko’s arm by instinct. He pulled him into the hole and Toph covered them again before digging again. They finally reached Katara a few minutes later. It was too late, Azula had beaten them to her. 

“Oh Zuzu, I thought you were better than this” She sneered. 

“...go. Sokka, please. Take your sister and run. Run far away and do your plan. Make it the best damn plan. Wipe the whole group out. Start all over” Zuko turned to Sokka, eyes already tearing up. Katara didn’t hesitate, and ensnared her brother’s arm to drag him away. The last view of Zuko that Sokka got was him fighting desperately. He dodged every lightning bolt his sister threw at him. One bounced off, hitting Aang in the back. Sokka turned away to make sure he could get Aang out alive. Zuko could rot for all he cared. 

---

“This entire time, he was PRINCE ZUKO?” Sokka yelled, tempted to crawl into a hole and die. He had flirted with Prince ZUKO. 

“His scar’s pretty distinctive Sokka. Who else looks like someone tried to blind them?” Katara groaned, totally done with the whole ‘I like the guy whose been chasing us around the world’ thing. 

“Lee! Who I guess is just an alias for Zuko” 

“Ok Sokka, we’re done. Time to move on” Toph groaned, stopping her vigil over Aang for a moment. He had barely stirred. They knew he was alive, but who knew if he’d last long enough. All they could do was keep him healthy, and hope. 

(To Be continued?)

#zukka #atla fanfic

[sp00kworm]

Thorny Beginnings

Pairing: Kurora (Human Female) x Gethrow (Orc Male)

A/N: This was a commission piece for the lovely @calamityismyspecialty who kindly asked for their two OCs and the beginnings of their relationship together. It was a pleasure to write and so I thought I would share! Adult content under the cut.

---

Kurora slammed the door to the Sherriff’s office with a resounding bang. The wood shook in its hole and drew the attention of Gethrow from where he was leaned against the wall outside, watching the townspeople go back and forth about their day. The women lead children, their hands wrapped around their mother’s baskets as they headed home from the morning markets. Gethrow’s dark eyes turned on the door curiously as Kurora stormed out, her dark boots grinding at the cobbles before she huffed and kicked a pebble, feeling a small sense of satisfaction when it bounced against the wall and skittered away down the alley.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Gethrow asked as uncrossed his arms from his chest. The orc was covered in the leather jerkin armour of his clan, the emblems cut out and replaced long ago, but the heavy straps and metal sheets over his legs remained. The panels clicked as he turned, baring his teeth gruffly before he smiled brightly as her, tossing his dreadlocks over his shoulder.

Kurora looked at him through the sides of her eyes, “The Sherriff wants to talk to a man.” She hissed before flicking a knife from her belt and leaning in the spot he was curled against previously, “He won’t give me the bounty. A knife in his desk didn’t seem like a good option.”

 Kurora span her blade once more before sliding it back into its sheath at the base of her back before she reached up to adjust the heavy mask covering the bottom half of her face.

Gethrow laughed as though she had just told a joke, “No, a knife won’t get us that bounty.” He stroked his chin before moving towards the door, ducking his six-foot seven frame into the doorway before entering like a giant shadow. Kurora tried to prevent herself from smiling as she listened to the hushed whispers inside and occupied herself by checking her travel bag. She’d enough food for rations before they both went to collect the contract, but it now seemed like not enough. She hoped their hunting skills could fill in the rest of the food requirements, especially considering Gethrow’s appetite. A few moments later, the door slammed open once again, and Gethrow ducked out of the building with a scroll in his hand. With a smile that exposed his shorn tusks, he unfurled the thing and tapped the bottom where the Sherriff had penned their names.

“Good. Let’s go.” Kurora huffed as she tied her bag back shut by her side.

“Come on. You’ll be glad to know I gave him a nice little talking to.” Gethrow assured her as he followed in her footsteps.

 She tried not to be angry, especially with Gethrow. After getting back into the main market area, she managed to take a breath and calm herself down.

“What did you tell him?” Kurora mumbled through the cotton covering her face.

Gethrow looked down at her, smiling at the fading anger in her brown eyes. If she were another woman, he might have taken her hand, but he knew all too well her reaction to such touches. She was scarred and scared, emotionally, and physically. It would take time for Kurora to come around to his touches. He huffed a laugh before leaning down to her ear and grinning.

“I told him to fuck himself with his own cock if he thought so little of women.” The orc leaned back and reached to tie his dreadlocks back more tightly, ensuring the thick, leather tie was tight around the hair before he flicked away the heavy beads and bones from his shoulders. Kurora’s eyebrows softened and the edges of her eyes crinkled.

“Is that a smile?” Gethrow teased her gently, “My stoic little crow is smiling?”

 “Not on your life.” Kurora joked before reaching for her knife and tapping the hilt, “Do they want them dead?” She was far too quick to swap into business talk.

Gethrow tried not to look too annoyed by the brash change in conversation tone, “The Sherriff wants one to face trial. The rest…well, he’s left that up to us.” He offered with a shrug, “I don’t have a preference, but we don’t have the wagon to take ‘em all back. Best to just bring a few for the townspeople to try at the stand.”

Kurora nodded her head, “Kill the bandits it is then. Well…” She took a knife from her belt and flipped it around before humming, “We kill all but two.”

 “All but two.” Gethrow confirmed aloud before looking down at Kurora, “Are you sure we can do this?” He asked, concern lacing his voice as he gently pushed the knife down from Kurora’s front.

“What do you mean?” She asked, venom lacing her tone, “I’m fine. The scars barely hurt and I’m…” She caught herself before she could start. One too many times recently she’d unleashed hell upon her partner. They were supposed to be courting she reminded herself often. They didn’t need to quarrel and argue about things when Gethrow was simply looking out for her.

“You know I’m worried, little crow.” Gethrow rumbled, “You’re…stiff and I would rather you not get hurt.”

Kurora snapped her knife back into its sheath, “I’m fine, Gethrow.” She laid a hand on his heavily muscled arm, “I have you there, and that means nothing bad will happen. We’ve dealt with worse than a little band of half-wit bandits before.” She rubbed softly at his olive skin with her thumb before taking her hand away again, unsure of what she was really doing.

“Let me know if you…” Gethrow rolled his eyes as she held up her hand and snapped it like a beak at him, “Put that sass away.” He teased her as he checked his curved cleavers and snapped them back to his belt, “I don’t want any of it while we’re away, alright?” He took hold of her hips gently as they came to the treeline, but his hands were pushed away as Kurora made a dash for the shadows of the woods.

 The journey to find the bandits took several days. Their camp was high in the mountains to the east of the settlement. Gethrow weighted his axe in his hands as the two of them huddled by the entrance to the main cave. Kurora slid her blades free from her waist, testing the sharpness of them against each other as they watched the group drink themselves into stupors around a campfire.

“How many are there?” Gethrow asked as he pinned his hair back behind his head.

Kurora pointed the tip of her knife over the edge, “Ten in total.” She said nothing else as she flashed the flat of the blade and watched the bandit stationed by the door scowl at the light flash. He turned from his position, his pipe held between his lips as he scrubbed at his hair and headed towards the flashing blade. Kurora watched, breathing evenly before she looked over at the other side of the entrance, watching Gethrow breathe evenly and quietly for a moment. His chest moved, the hair covering his body standing on end as the guard drew closer and closer to the entrance. Suddenly, for a moment, she realised just how handsome Gethrow was. The moment was over as she grappled the guard around the neck, hauling him to the side before she slid her blade into his neck and forwards, silencing him with a gurgle.

 “Two for the stocks, big guy.” Kurora whispered as she let the man fall over the side of the mountain, blood pouring from his neck.

Gethrow frowned before rolling his shoulders, “Two for the stocks.” He confirmed before he swung his axe, slicing open the other rogue that had come to investigate. The people inside quickly bolted into action and Kurora watched Gethrow’s broad back as he stormed in himself, hefting a blood laced axe at the first two men that headed towards him. Kurora dashed in underneath his arm as the axe’s double blade clashed with two swords. A woman reached for her bow and met the hilt of Kurora’s blade. Kurora smashed her fist against the woman’s nose before slamming her other blade into the woman’s stomach, twisting before she made a dash for the next two. Gethrow gave a great bellow as he dealt with two more. Kurora was alone in the fight as she faced the two men before her, perhaps twice her weight and seemingly much heavier hitters. She looked at the heavy club and sword before she made a dash around the two of them.

 Her dodge failed. A club clattered against her ankle mid roll and Kurora struggled back to her feet after a strangled cry. Gethrow’s eyes rushed to her as she struggled back to her feet and lashed at her attacker’s knees. She impaled her knife through the sword wielder’s knee before kicking at the socket again, grinning beneath her mask as he collapsed, his leg spurting blood. The second man struck at her again before grabbing for her hair. He caught the ends of her black hair, snatching it tight before he laughed and pulled the cloth from her face. Kurora struggled as her scarred chin and cheeks were revealed, the skin raw, pink and aggravated. The man grinned. His mistake was letting go of her hair. Kurora snatched his fingers between her teeth. The taste of blood hit her tongue as she ground her teeth deeper into the wound and spat the spit and blood into the bandit’s eyes. He howled in fury, but she was quicker on her feet and grabbed her knife from its place on the floor. She slashed at his eyes, grinning as blood splashed up her face. Gethrow was quick to look at her again, anger turning his face into a picture of perfect fury. Kurora grinned again as she smashed her knife into the bandit’s throat and slashed the other over his soft skin, splitting his neck open.

 “Kurora!” Gethrow called for her as he slammed a woman into a tent and bedroll, effectively tangling her in the sheets, “Two alive!” He reminded her before gently pointing to his chin. Kurora reached for her chin and swiped at the blood covering her scarred and torn skin. With a scowl, she grabbed her covering from the floor and tied it tightly before she grabbed the woman from her entanglement in the bedroll, slamming her against the floor again, her knee pressed viciously into the muscles at the base of her back.

“How’re you holding up?” Kurora glanced up, her face and hair matted with blood.

Gethrow grappled a male and tied his unconscious form tightly with rope before he dragged him over to tie his female companion as well. She spat and hissed until Kurora smacked her with the handle of her blade, knocking her unconscious.

“Could be better. Tired and covered in…well guts.” He scoffed before reaching and swiping his finger over her cheek, looking at the blood and spit on her face, “Come here.” Gethrow pulled his water-skin free, “You need to wash before you get ill again.”

Kurora snatched the skin a little more harshly than she intended, “I…Thank you.” She whispered before she made her way out of the cave to wash her face over the side of the mountain, cursing herself for being so foul.

 They returned the bandits and evidence of the deed being done to the Sherriff and received the full payment for their services. They had one more night in the small town in their room above the baker’s shop. It was simple and clean enough. Kurora peered at herself in the small mirror mounted to the cold stone wall. Gethrow was behind her, tending to the fire in the fireplace to keep them both warm. The orc was quiet ever since they had finished the job and Kurora knew her silence and brattish behaviour was responsible for it in part. She touched the scars on the bottom of her face once again. Ugly. The accident had left her ugly. With a grumble to herself, she reached for her cotton mask, only for a large green hand to cover her own, pushing the cotton back onto the table. Gethrow’s hairy chest pressed to her back and she pushed back against his warmth instinctually. There was a noise of appreciation from the orc’s chest as he carefully turned her and tilted her chin upwards.

 Kurora scowled, “I know they’re ugly, Gethrow. You don’t have to look at me like I’m some…” She stopped herself, “I…” Lamely, she let her hands fall to her side before he took hold of the small jar of ointment from the small bag of toiletries she had. He opened the top and the heavy smell of mint and lavender invaded their nostrils. Gethrow tilted her chin up again before silently rubbing the ointment over the thick, puckered scars with one large finger, tracing their lengths gently. Carefully he made sure to get under her nose before he took a cloth and wiped at the end of her nose with a smile.

“You don’t need to worry about them.” He promised, his voice just loud enough for only her to hear, “I think you’re beautiful. I did since I first saw you, and some scarring doesn’t change that.” Gethrow leaned down and placed a heavy kiss to her forehead, “I know you need some time to figure this out.” The orc cupped her jaw but didn’t place a kiss to her lips. He turned and moved to go back to the fire.

 “Wait!” Kurora took hold of his wrist as he turned and pushed her fingers underneath the leather and bead bracelet around Gethrow’s wrist, holding him in place.

“What is it?” He asked, turning his dark eyes on her once again.

Kurora had once compared his eyes to coal, but now she saw them more as onyx gems, “I wanted to…say I’m sorry.” She confessed as she wrapped her arms around his middle again, “I’m no good at this and you could have chosen so many better women than me. And…”

“And?” He asked, gentle as he tilted her head up again, “You have something weighing on your mind. I can tell. My crow doesn’t bow her head for anyone.”

“I’ve never done this before, Gethrow. I’ve never even been with a man, let alone done anything couples would do.” Kurora confessed, her cheeks burning in embarrassment, “I thought for so long that you were just playing with me…trying to get the ugly girl to make a move so you could leave me and laugh.” She spat.

“Never.” Gethrow gently took hold of her hips, “I love you, Kurora. I wouldn’t be courting you otherwise.” He placed his hand at the back of her neck and swiped his fingers into her black hair, gently playing with the ends.

 Kurora didn’t remember crying, but she rubbed the tears away quickly before taking a deep breath and leaning up to place a soft kiss to his lips. The orc responded gently, his short tusks rubbing against her bottom lip. She pulled away but before she could say anything Gethrow sealed their lips together again, taking the lead as he gently coaxed her to follow his rhythm, his tongue tapping forwards before Kurora hummed and parted her lips. They remained lip locked until Gethrow pulled away. Kurora giggled at the wet ointment smeared on his lips. Gethrow grinned and wiped it away before he carefully took hold of Kurora under her thighs and lifted her up. He slotted the slight woman against him before he turned to the bed and laid her back against the furs, leaning to catch her lips again as he softly stroked at her sides, his rough fingers tracing obscure patterns over her ribcage.

“Can we go slow?” Kurora asked softly as Gethrow settled himself between her legs.

“Of course.” Gethrow kissed at her cheek before he slid his hands down. On reflex Kurora bucked her hips upwards as his fingers dipped under the large shirt she was in, teasing the soft skin of the bottom of her belly, “Ah. After your sulking, I think you better behave.” He rumbled.

 Kurora felt her spine go hot as she moved her hips again, driving her hips towards Gethrows. The orc grinned at her before he snapped his hand against her stomach and pinned her down to the bed.

“Are you going to be good, little crow?” Gethrow hummed as he traced the outline of her breasts, “Keep yourself still and I’ll rewards you, okay?” He pressed a kiss to the exposed skin of her tummy before he dragged her shirt up and off, admiring the scars that littered her skin, kissing each one on his way to her chest. Kurora raised her hands to let him drag the oversized shirt free and she shuddered as she was bared to him in nothing but her underwear. Her breasts rose and fell as Gethrow eased his way back to her underwear, kissing the scars and rubbing his tusks into the sensitive skin before he dragged them down her legs.

“Beautiful.” Gethrow praised before he dragged his hands over her thighs and watched her spread her legs. He was caught in a trance as her fingers dipped between the puffy lips of her sex and spread it wide for him to see the flushed pink flesh inside.

 Her snickering broke him from his trance, and Gethrow was quick to reassert his dominance, grabbing her wrists in one of his hands before he placed them firmly over her head again. The orc gave her a glower before he kissed her again and teased his fingers over her opening, back and forth. When she bucked her hips, he pushed his palm to her pelvis and watched her writhe, her legs pinned wide with his thighs. Kurora whined behind her teeth as she was held in place. Gethrow’s tusks dragged over her stomach again before he pushed a single finger against her.

“Have you ever…”

Kurora looked at him with a frown, her cheeks red, “Of course I’ve touched myself before!” She yelped before letting out another whine as he pushed his finger inside of her for the snide remark. It pressed against her walls for a moment before Gethrow slowly plunged it in and out and then settled into a gentle rhythm, working her open as he settled her nerves with soft, warm kisses against her scarred skin. Slowly, the feeling grew closer and closer to an end, and Kurora writhed against her lover’s strong grip, her fingers twisting in his grip, stroking at the skin of his fingers, trying to weasel her way into touching him as well.

 “Please, can I touch you?” She asked meekly. Gethrow’s dark eyes met hers before he kissed her lips again and released her hands. Kurora moaned softly as he pressed another finger into her, scissoring them before he touched his thumb to her clit. Her hands flew to his chest, kneading at the strong muscles, dragging her finger through the hair on his body as he pressed one more finger inside her. She huffed at the fullness, wiggling backwards until Gethrow pinned her and watched her eyes go wide as pleasure pulsed down her spine. He let her breathe and pressed a kiss to each of her breasts before he sucked a nipple into his mouth. She started at the sensation, tugging at his dreadlocks, whining in overstimulation.

“Did that feel good?” Gethrow kissed her lips again before he reached and tugged his cotton trousers down, the laces dragging over his thighs as he revealed what was between his legs.

 “Mmm. It did.” Kurora’s eyes widened at the sight of Gethrow’s erect member, “By the gods…Will that even fit?” She gasped softly as Gethrow spread her legs again, holding her knees open as he settled himself back over her. His cock nudged at Kurora’s entrance and she melted back against the bed, “I trust you.” She promised.

Gethrow leaned down to kiss her, “Tell me if it hurts.” He whispered by her ear as he held her softly, lining himself up with her entrance before they took a breath together and he slid forwards slowly inside of her. Kurora felt her eyes go bleary as Gethrow held her and kissed at her skin, easing himself inside of her wet heat with ease.

“That’s… enough.” She huffed into his ear, “I can’t…” She sniffled as he thrust but kissed him again, clutching at his shoulders as he set a steady rocking rhythm, thrusting in and out of her with whispered praises.

“I love you.” Gethrow uttered after a kiss before he groaned and stuttered.

Kurora lifted her hips and stroked her fingers against his pointed ears, “I love you too, Gethrow. I do.” She felt herself plunge over the edge and moaned hotly against his shoulder before she felt Gethrow twitch inside of her.

“You’re amazing, beautiful…I love you.” He rumbled as he captured her chin and kissed her again, his hips coming to a stop as he moaned into her mouth.

 The two parted after panting against each other, but Kurora made sure to push herself into Gethrow’s side, her fingers tracing the muscles around his ribcage as she laid back and soaked in the heat he kicked out.

“Did you mean it?” She whispered to him, “You love me?”

Gethrow kissed her hair tenderly, “More than anything.” He promised against her skin.

“I love you too.” She murmured into his chest, “Thank you…For everything Gethrow. For putting up with me too.”

Sleepily, he tucked her under his arm, “Shh then. Let’s rest. We have to leave tomorrow.”

Kurora nodded against him tiredly, tears drying on her cheeks as she smiled and held her lover closer.

#human x orc #female human x male orc #orc x human #monster x human #commission piece #writing commission #fantasy #high fantasy #original works #writing #my writing #monster bf #human x monster #orc #orcs #ocs #other's ocs

[rukia-uchiha-98]

Life Deterioration

Hi, how are you guys 

there is no beta reader this time so I’m sorry for the disaster that i did in this oneshot also I was really tired when I wrote it, just trying to get rid of the headache so it didn’t get out like I wanted it to be but i think it works out 

I hope you enjoy

prompt : body swap 

warnings : dark, self-harm

words count : 2550

@shisakuweek

Peace treaty was the first occasion sakura met shisui in, the exact same day her clan almost became extinct, she hates the uchiha in general and shisui in specific, maybe if he didn't try to make a friend withe her it would've  been different but no, he had to praise her look, her knowledge and her personality those things that no one liked in her clan, that she was always being scolded for. And when she started to get attached to him, she saw him killing her family, her harmless father and loving mother, he killed them both with his own sword and If the senju aid didn't arrive when it did, she would've been dead for years now.

Shisui never regrets any thing he does or had done except that one time when he was involved in the massacre against the haruno, he didn't though not even in the slightest idea that avenging his father's  death would cause him this much of regret, he decided to kill the man who killed his father after killing his beloved wife before his eyes but he was oblivious for the fact that this man had a daughter who happened to be the exact same girl who –it was safe to say- he liked immediately after meeting her, she was strikingly beautiful, pink silk strands with clear emerald eyes, he didn't think that such colors existed until he saw her, she didn't try to cling on him or flirt with him or any of his clansmen like other girls always do, she was energetic with a stunning smile, well educated, had  great ideas and a brilliant mind and those characteristics were rare that he didn't met a women or a girl with them except his aunt mikoto and based on what his father used to tell him, his mother. So Imagine his happiness when he got to know her, he even introduced her to his best friend and cousin itachi, and even though he was the king of flirting, he never did that to any other girl, she was special. He was shocked to say The least, she was standing at the door staring in shocked expression after dashing like a madman screaming for her parents to run away, he knew how does it feel to see your father stabbed to death in front of you and live after, he didn't want her to live in that hell so he stabbed her and he wasn't a fool he knew where to aim if he wanted to kill but there was a part of him didn't want her to die, the part that likes her.

He didn't keep a trace on time so he didn't exactly knew how much time has passed since that day. To say he was shocked when he saw her again is an underestimation. She changed, so much he barly recognized her, her tall bubble gum colored silk is now very short showing her delicate long neck, her clear emeralds are clouded by hatred and revenge directed to him he noticed when there eyes met. Sitting straight on her horse beside the second in line senju heir, indicating that she was in a high rank in their forces. " isn't that the girl you showed me when we went to the haruno several years ago?", "she is" confirmed shisui "it looks like she's here to avenge her parent's death, she's here for my head", "and what makes you sure about it?", "cause I'm the one who killed them and stabbed her", "well, she looks furious, and I don’t think she will be satisfied unless you're dead, so look out!", "I will".

She moved ahead, riding to the space that separated their both armies shouting so every one could hear her out "if anyone encountered Uchiha Shisu, retreat or send him to me, he is my prey. Senju, charge", after her cue both armies marched. She went off like a bullet killing every single soldier trying to get in her way preventing her from getting shisui's head, she didn't stop not until she reached him. Exhausted and panting heavily they both charged at each other, she was thinking how much she heated him, and he was thinking how things would be different if he didn't avenge his father. They fought in silence until she broke it hissing " I'm going to avenge my parents, I'm going to get your head", "believe me, you're going to regret that", "as if" and then a silent fight until they both were drained. Ready to drive their last blow, ready to kill and get killed, shisui wanting to break free from his guilt and sakura wishing to meet her parents they both charged, and the blood was spilled.

She woke up with a throbbing head and  killing abdominal pain, why did she wake  up? She was supposed to be dead, or  was she already and she's in hell? she didn't know but either way she was feeling like hell so it didn't matter. She felt out of  place for some reason and when she tried to move she couldn't. From her medical experience she could tell that she was on the verge of death and that she barely made it

Shisui opened his eyes to the white ceiling, the compound hospital he thought. He didn't feel any major pain just a slight stomach discomfort  which was good but strange, he clearly remember that sakura's stab was deadly and if a miracle happened he wouldn't feel this healthy and he was sure he would suffer serious complications, but here he was lying on the bed as healthy as he could be.

She didn't know what had blown her head the most, was it the fact that she woke up in the uchiha compound or that when her vision focused she saw one of the uchiha heirs looking at her with worried eyes or maybe it was him calling her shisui but no it's most definitely was when she found out that she wasn't in her body anymore, she was in uchiha shisui's body and this fact led to one of two conclusion, either her body was dead or shisui was in it.

He didn't think that it was possible to wake up in another person's body until he noticed he woke up in sakura's body, which meant that she's staying in his body hopefully and not dead, he needed to meet her and figure out how did this happen and how to go back to there own body, but now that was nearly impossible, it looks like the senjo adored her, that or they are suspecting him which is unlikely to happen since they thought he lost his memories.

Amnesia was what she got as a diagnose to justify her lack of information about shisui's life. Sakura figured out that the main uchiha household cares deeply for shisui, she wasn't left behind not even for minute and they helped her with every thing until she was healed, which was really long time, uchiha's medical care was really bad, no trained healers and absolutely bad medical supplies, it took her a total two years to heal completely, and being sakura she took the chance to get to know every thing about the 25 years old  shisui and the uchiha. Shisui's mother died while giving birth to him, he grew up with his father who was a warrior get killed when shisui went to his first war that was against the haruno-senju alliance on her father's hand. Ironic, right? Yeah his father was killed before his son's eyes while begging her father to spare the kid from witnessing this, but it looks like her father was tyrannous in his young days. She stopped blaming shisui for what he did, but that didn't mean that she forgave him or that her hatred for him faltered.

The senju medical care was magnificent to say the least, he was completely healed within 6 months,then he took his time to adjust to sakura's body that was surprisingly strong for being petite aside from the fact that she was a girl in her late teens. Sakura's father suffered from a depression before he met her mother who seemingly had health issues that made it very hard for her to bear children and having sakura was a miracle.

Aside from getting to know shisui, sakura planned for her revenge, okay let's be clear, she doesn't blame him anymore but she didn't forgive him and she can't figure out how she feels about him as a person anymore, it was hard to determine after she knew every single detail about him despite that she was determined to destroy the uchiha from the inside.

Shisui felt that he was falling deeper for sakura, two years were more than enough to make him memorize all of her and love all of her. He felt regret eating him alive when he knew that he was the reason of her depression,he felt proud when he knew that she became one of the strongest warrior between the senju lines, he was amused when he knew that she became the most skillful healer among them, he was happy to know what she became to and more determined to make them work out.

A real Peace treaty was signed between the Uchiha and the Senju this time and shisui couldn't be happier, he will get to see her or himself –he wasn't sure anymore- and talk things out, try to find a solution to this ridiculous situation which in his opinion has gone so far but to his horror, she didn't recognize him or better say she didn't recognize herself. Great, just great this would never be solved unless they both worked on it, and now she doesn't  seem to remember.

She would be liar if she didn't say that her heart didn't flutter when she saw him or her body in better description, she misses her old self, her family and her life, it's not like the Uchiha treated her poorly, she was shisui after all and they didn't doubt her at all, it was safe to say she grew attached to them after two and half years of care and love, and she decided to spare them her revenge.

"Did you hear that? Two members of the Uchiha elders council were found dead this morning and i heard they  were killed with cold blood", that was  what shisui had been hearing from the early morning that day, and it was making him furious, how did they get killed when there supposed to be a tight guarding around them.

A council was held out to look through the crime and investigate it, anxious cries were heard from outside the room, "we must duplicate the security within the compound" one of the terrified elders shouted, "it's already as high as it could be" assured him fukagu and went on "the important thing now is to know who had done it", " it's the senju I assure you, they are such..." the elder was cut down by shisui's voice " I don't think the senju signed the peace treaty to do this, they wanted to end the bloodshed as much as we wanted it" sakura would never allow anyone to accuse her second family, "shisui is right, if the senju wanted to make any move they wouldn't be sneaky about it, it's not like hashirama" assured madara and after brief silent shisu's voice echoed again " you know what, i think the murderer is among us, one of the clan members, I mean don't you see it? The killer walked under our noses without fear, no one can ever do it unless he was sure that no one would suspect his action while walking in the compound", "that's enough shisui, we get it", "as you wish madara".

Her plan was simple, she would kill four or five of them, plant the doubt between them and let them kill each other. Very simple right, no children or women or harmless elders would die, only the dirty warriors who can't trust each other. Achieving her revenge and making favor for the uchiha and surprisingly there were a lot of them, one killed his brother, the other killed his own son, it was painful but it must happen and those who did the murder where executed.

When she was done withe the clan she sent a message to shisui to ask him for a meeting, she wanted to end this once for all, she wanted to get back to her family, and how happy was she when she saw that shisui didn't delay the meeting and was as eager as her to end this farce, and they met.

The strangest thing that you could ever try is to hear your voice coming out of your body by another person, it was kind of funny so shisui decided to let sakura do the talk, "you know, after being in your body for almost 3 years now and knowing every thing about you made me change a lot of my ideas and thoughts about you and your family, I don't blame you anymore for killing my parent, and i don't hate all the uchiha now and it's safe to say that I've loved some of them, and you! I really don't know, it's absolutely not love but it's not hate either, my feelings towards you have been tormenting me, I can't  figure them out and can't get rid of them either and it hurts, it hurts to much that I can't bear it anymore, so I'm here today to see what would happen to you if I committed a suicide in your body", she took out shisui's dagger and stabbed her self with it, shisui tried to stop her but he couldn't reach her.

A bright light illuminate the area around them and when shisuis's eyes sight focused again, he was back in his body unharmed but sakura was lying down with a massive cut in her abdomen strangely enough his dagger wasn't what cause her injury. He knelt beside her "why have you doen this?", "cause I wanted to get rid of those feelings that hunted me", he didn't know what was weaker, her voice or his, " we could've chased it down together, we could've figured it out together", "that would've been impossible, cause there isn’t we", "but I loved you truly and truthfully, I was ready to make up for all my mistakes", "sorry it didn't turn out like you imagined, but there never would be us, not in this life time at least" that was the last thing she said before she die, "maybe in our next life, we would be  ninjas like we both dreamed and we would live in peace together in the same place, just wait for me", shisui wasn't happy to be back to his body like he thought he would be. Two days after sakura’s death a dead body was found in the uchiha compound, they suspect it to be related to the incident from days prior, but they knew that he was badly depressed and attempted to suicide more than  five times in the past two days.

#ShiSakuWeek0920 #dark #selfharm #shisaku #shisui uchiha #haruno sakura #sakura #shisui #shisui x sakura #self harrrm

[raendown]

For the @madatobiweek prompts generation swap au and fairytale au. 

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 9590 Rated: T+ Summary: Tobirama doesn't have much in life, just a younger brother to protect and a job that doesn't pay enough to feed them. He knows that hunting in the king's forest is forbidden but for Hashirama he would risk everything. In the forest he finds meat to put on the table for the last living member of his family.

And in the forest he finds a tower, a boy imprisoned, and a future he could have never dreamed of.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

I Never Asked For My Pedestal 

If one asked the local authorities they would say that Tobirama had no good intentions in the forest that day. Hunting in the royal forests was expressly forbidden, an edict passed with no explanation only a year or two after Tobirama was born, but for the families as poor as his there was often little choice but to take that risk. It was the thought of seeing his younger brother going hungry that drove him in to the trees week after week in search of a meal he could not legally afford on his own. 

Once Tobirama had been the third son of four, had reveled in the guiding love of his older siblings, happily joined in the doting when another was born and he wasn’t the youngest anymore. Then sickness had swept through their village and while the lords and ladies locked themselves away safely in the castle Kawarama and Itama, his two beloved elder siblings, took themselves away to die quietly in the forest where they would not infect the others. And from that day Tobirama was left with nothing but his own two hands to work and feed his baby brother Hashirama. 

Like so many other days in the years since they had been alone, Tobirama’s job working for one of the local farmers couldn’t quite pay enough to feed them both. Hashirama, wonderful smiling Hashirama, was an innocent young lad who lived with his head constantly lost in daydreams and greeted his brother at the end of each day with a hug and a hundred questions. Were they situated anywhere else he would have been forced to find work himself no matter Tobirama’s urges to baby him but with the forest behind them and the guards growing lax in their patrols it had become almost routine to find dinner through other means. 

Not, of course, that such conditions had ever convinced him to grow inattentive himself. 

Tobirama was only moments from loosing an arrow to take down a buck which would have kept them well fed for several weeks when he heard the sound of hooves. He cursed himself for a fool as he lowered his arms and cast about for somewhere to take cover. It made sense to hunt in a different place each time he came here. Even a skilled woodsman like himself left some traces of his passing and traversing the same paths over and over could only make it easier for someone to catch him in his lawbreaking. But he should have known better than to come here so far beyond the woods and fields that he’d spent the last decade mapping out in his mind. This area was largely unknown to him. Promises of new and unsuspecting game had drawn him farther from home; now he was paying the price for answering that siren call as he realized that he’d forgotten in his hunger to scout an escape route first. 

Desperate for any way to return safely to his brother at the end of the day, Tobirama leapt for the first place he saw that looked as though it could conceal his over-average height. The boulder was tall, if not very wide, and the small pocket of space behind it could really only be seen if one walked right up to the cliff it sat at the base of. With his heart in his throat he threw himself behind the rock. 

He was immediately forced to bite his tongue to keep from crying out in surprise when he fell through the screen of ivy he’d thought was covering solid stone. 

As soon as he figured out which way was up Tobirama did what he could to resettle the ivy so it hung still, less evidence of his presence. Then he turned to stare down the cavernous emptiness of what looked to be a passageway carved through the mountain. Since there really were only two options, forwards or back out in to the open, he hurried on in to the darkness. It wasn’t entirely dark, actually, some kind of light was clear at the other end, but with the ivy blocking out any light from this end made the passageway feel twice as long as he was forced to feel each step out before setting his weight down. Even using such caution he nearly rolled his ankle several times. 

By the time he reached the other end Tobirama was close to cursing out loud. His eyes had only just finished adjusting to the darkness when he finally stepped out in to the light again, squinting with his chin tucked down to make the readjustment easier. When it felt less like tiny knives digging in to his eyeballs he gave a few experimental blinks then raised his chin.

Only to drop his jaw and let it hang loose as he took in the sight before him. 

What he had taken as a pathway underneath the mountain was in fact the entrance to a hidden oasis in the very center, a field hidden on all sides by the cliff that Tobirama had always believed to be just one solid peak. Crystal blue water sparkled in a small lake, untouched grass grew lush and green, yet all he could see was the massive white stone tower that rose from the very center of the clearing. So tall it would have been visible from the outside with only a few more feet, the structure was made entirely of pale granulite and stood alone with no other buildings nearby. At the base he could see where there had once been an entrance but it had since filled in with stones and boulders. Who, he wondered, would build such a graceful monument to loneliness only to seal it up in such a manner? 

He very much intended to find out. The bricks were pretty but their cut looked rough and uneven, perfect for a man in good fitness to scale his way to the top. He had only just shifted his weight to step forward when movement caught his attention and sent him scrambling back in to the safety of the dark passage. 

Not a moment too soon, it turned out. As he watched, a woman stood from where she had been crouched next to the lake, hair white as his own and a sweeping robe to match blending in with the shine of sunlight on water. Her face was severe enough to make him grateful he hadn’t accidentally caught her attention but instead was able to observe from afar the way she floated across the field and stopped at the base of the white tower. There she tilted her head back to look up at the very top. 

“Madara,” she called, a melodic voice that for some reason turned his stomach. “Let down your hair.” 

Before he could wonder what the hell that even meant Tobirama bore witness to the single most baffling sight he had ever seen. A face came to the window high up in the sealed tower, man or woman he couldn’t tell from this distance, and struggled to lift something over the wooden sill. Then coil upon coil of hair the color of the darkest night came spilling down, down, down until the very end of the impossibly massive braid jerked to the end of its length just an inch or so before it would have brushed the ground. Seemingly unimpressed with this incredible phenomenon, the woman took hold of the braid with both hands and called out above once more. Then she was rising in to the sky as ostensibly whoever had thrown her the pseudo rope was now reeling it all back up as well with her weight added on. 

Tobirama waited but neither the woman nor the other figure appeared at the window again and before long he realized that he didn’t truly want either of them to catch him there where he was so clearly not supposed to be. And besides that he had a brother waiting at home with an empty belly. None of this was any of his business. With one last long glance at this new mystery Tobirama told himself to forget what he had seen and turned to head back in to the forest, hoping against hope that whoever had sent him scurrying in to the unknown had moved on as well. 

He did what he could to put the oasis and its wonders out of his mind in the days that followed. Seeing the light in his brother’s eyes when he came home with the deer he’d finally managed to take down was enough to keep him content for a day or so but the morning beyond that he found his thoughts wandering. Who was that at the top of the tower? How did they come to be in such a place? With the bottom sealed up it was obvious that the figure with such fantastically long hair would have no way down. Tobirama couldn’t help but wonder if they had chosen to shut themselves away from the world or if that sickeningly beautiful face were perhaps more sinister even than he’d first imagined. 

There was only one way to find out. 

For nearly a week he managed to resist before the pull of the unknown drew him in just the same as the thick tomes he studied in the public library whenever he had a chance. Strictly speaking it would be at least a few more weeks until he needed to hunt again; after salting and curing most of the prime cuts they could rely on venison whenever there wasn’t money for other foods. But the mountains in the distance called to him, whispering the secrets that only he knew of, and Tobirama could only resist for so long before he found himself asking Hashirama to be safe while he was gone and heading in to the trees once more. 

It felt strange to traverse these fields and forests with no bow upon his back, although he supposed that it was nice not to worry for once about leaving tracks. There was nothing illegal about walking in the King’s woods. Without the need for his usual caution he was able to make the journey in about half the time it might have taken him on any other day, the sun barely at its zenith by the time he crested a small hill and began to look around for the sheet of vine concealing the entrance he’d fallen through before. 

Were he any less alert his future might have gone very differently from that moment – or perhaps been deleted entirely. Only his sharp reflexes sent him whirling behind the closest tree when he spotted a flash of white from the corner of one eye. He was out of sight not a moment too soon as the woman he had seen calling up to the tower emerged from the hidden passageway and set off through the forest with a rather annoyed looking expression. In one hand she carried an empty basket that Tobirama would have bet his last penny she intended to fill by either foraging through the woods or making the journey in to the village. Whatever the case, she would likely be gone for several hours. 

Oh how the fates had smiled upon him. Now was the perfect time to sate his curiosity. Feeling almost gleeful for his good luck, Tobirama forced himself to remain still for several minutes past when the woman was out of sight just to be sure and then dashed towards the ivy. In his enthusiasm he very nearly forgot to step carefully along the dark uneven ground but there was at least no one around to watch him wobble and stumble as he hurried along until finally he was stepping back in to the bright midday sun. Somehow the massive white tower was only more impressive at a second glance yet he wasted very little time in admiration, moving forwards until he had reached the base where stones and mortar sealed what would have been the easiest way in. After a quick circuit around the whole thing he concluded that his first guess had been correct. He would have to climb.

Luckily he had come prepared for just such an activity. He stomped both feet to settle them in his sturdiest shoes and shook his hands out to loosen the muscles, wary of a cramp at just the wrong time. Then he paused the moment he laid his hands on the rough hewn bricks. Head tilting back, eyes squinting above, Tobirama considered the call he had heard before. 

There was no one here, he reasoned with himself again. If he looked a fool then there was no one to carry the tale of it. With that in mind he cleared his throat and firmly reminded his voice that now was not the time for nervous cracks. 

“Madara,” he called loudly in a false soprano, “let down your hair!” 

Even as he winced at how terrible his impression had been there came a movement at the window above. Then suddenly coil upon coil of midnight hair came tumbling down towards him only to snap taut just before the ground. For a moment he could only stare. It was hard to believe that had actually worked. Then he paused a moment longer to wonder if his weight might hurt the scalp on the other end of this incredible length. Only when the pseudo rope gave an impatient ripple did he suck in a deep breath, reach out with both hands, and begin to scale the tower at a much quicker pace than he’d been expecting to. 

With his feet walking up the side to keep him straight and arms strong from years of hard labor Tobirama was scrambling over a wooden windowsill almost in no time, taking in the petulant figure several feet away, hair anchored and knotted around a hook so as not to pull on his head and arms crossed over his chest while he pouted towards the floor. 

“You sound like you swallowed a frog,” the man growled. “What’s the matter, hit yourself with one of your own curses, witch?” 

Tobirama could only stare, unsure of what to say. In a word the man was gorgeous. Skin china pale without the sun’s rays, broad shoulders thick with muscles from dragging around the weight of so much hair, and a face with almost delicate features that still somehow screamed of masculinity. He was a masterpiece. When his pout deepened the expression only served to make him look more adorable in the sort of way that made Tobirama’s heart flutter traitorously in his chest.

“Cat got your tongue? Or maybe it finally shriveled up and fell out from all the acid lies you spit.” 

Such antagonism could only mean that his residence here was not a happy one, though it still remained to be seen whether or not he was being held against his will. Clearly he wasn’t the biggest fan of the woman he was expecting to come up to him. 

“Real mature, giving me the silent treatment. Didn’t you just leave? Thought I’d have the whole afternoon without your evil stench. I hope you didn’t come all the way back up just because you forgot something, I could have thrown it down. At your head.” With a snort and a faintly vicious smirk as he presumably imagined throwing something at the woman’s head, at last the strange man looked up – then gasped and attempted to reel backwards with fright in his eyes. “Who–!?” Before he could even finish his startled exclamation the anchored hair jerked him to a stop and he froze in place, trembling from head to toe. 

“I apologize, I did not mean to frighten you,” Tobirama murmured. His voice, if possible, seemed to startle the man even further. 

“You’re not the witch! You’re…like me. A boy!”

Considering he was well in to his second decade Tobirama gave some thought to correcting that. He was a man, not so much of a boy anymore. Now was hardly the time for semantics, though, so he let that go in favor of inching a single step forward just to test the waters. When the other man trembled again he angled his body to make it as clear as possible that he was heading towards the hook built in to the floor. 

“My name is Tobirama,” he said as non-threateningly as he could. “What’s yours?” He already knew that, of course, obvious from the words that gained him entry to this tower. It was just polite to ask really. 

“None of your business!” 

“I see.” He hadn’t really expected politeness in return. 

The closer he got the more worried the man looked until with carefully projected movements he bent down and freed the massive braid from the hook trapping its owner in place. As soon as he was free the man scrambled backwards, though Tobirama noted that the worry was colored now with a sort of curiosity he knew all too well.

“What do you want from me?” 

“Nothing,” Tobirama admitted truthfully. “I stumbled upon this place a few days ago and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. There was a woman – is that the one you call a witch? – she called for you to let down your hair and I wanted to know what sort of person could have such impossible locks. They’re impressive. What’s your name? You know mine, it’s only polite to share.” 

For a moment the man hesitated. Then he asked very quietly, “Is it? I wouldn’t know. Will you do anything bad with my name?” 

“Anything bad?” Tobirama repeated, baffled. 

“Well I don’t know! I’ve never met anyone else before!” 

“Never!?” 

Sticking out his bottom lip in another pout only brought this fascinating stranger back to be cute. “I’ve spent my whole life here in the tower. Well, I suppose I wasn’t born here. That old hag certainly isn’t my mother but she did explain to me once how babies are made so I suppose I must have been somewhere else once.” He considered his very first visitor with deep gravity. “My name is Madara.” 

It was a good name, strong, the sort of name that wouldn’t be common in the lower classes. For whatever reason it sounded almost familiar but Tobirama couldn’t quite put his finger on why and he was hardly going to waste his time digging through memories just now. Trying to remember the manners classes he’d taken as a youth from a friendly neighbor, a poor imitation of the gentrification proper noblemen were raised with just in case he somehow encountered one of the royal family, he tucked in one arm and spread the other wide in a clumsy bow. 

“Your acquaintance is my pleasure to make,” he said. The words felt too large and fancy in his mouth and halfway through the sentence he realized he’d said it all wrong. Madara didn’t seem to mind. 

“What now?” 

“How do you mean?”

“You said you wanted to know who was up here and now you do. So what will you do next?” The straightening of his spine spelled confidence but the way he reached out to take a solid grip on his heavy braid just in case was more obvious than he probably thought. Someone who spent all their time away from other people probably hadn’t had many lessons in being sneaky. 

For the first time Tobirama allowed his eyes to slide away from the figure he’d gone to so much effort to meet, gazing around the room to take in all he could. Basic furniture and sparse entertainment options made the place look even more like a prison than the sealed exit at the bottom. He noted there seemed to be no exit from here either. However one was meant to travel down the tower when it was built, the way appeared to have been cleverly hidden from view now. For Madara there truly was no way out. He could have climbed his own hair, of course, but doing so would have left him stranded at the bottom with no one to unhook him from the anchor. 

All of this combined with the way he spoke of ‘the witch’ left Tobirama with only one choice, a stupid choice, a choice that would surely put him in to danger. 

“I could take you away from here,” he said. Phrasing it like a suggestion felt safer for the psyche of a man who had never left his prison but in his heart he knew that he couldn’t leave Madara to his fate, not now that he knew of the situation. Stolen away as a child so young he remembered nothing but the tower that caged him? It might not be Tobirama’s responsibility but he would never sleep again if he walked away now. 

Clearly Madara was not well versed in the art of kindness judging by the startled look on his face. Not a big surprise there. 

“A-away?” he asked.

“You’re clearly not here of your own free will. I intend to come back and, if you wish, free you from this place.” 

“Free…” Brows furrowed, Madara worried at the loops of his makeshift weapon. “Isn’t it…isn’t it terribly dangerous outside of the tower? When I was young I used to plan how I would run away from here but I never did – and lucky for that! The world is so dangerous! All of my books have stories to tell about bandits and people with bad magic; there’s just too many people who would try to steal me away!” 

Tobirama cocked his head to the side. “I assume you believe they would steal you for the same reason the witch keeps you here, whatever that may be?”

He almost regretted his words immediately as Madara's eyes narrowed in suspicion. It only became obvious that the man had slowly begun to relax when he tensed up again at the idea of giving away what must be some sort of secret. Knowing he needed to tread carefully if he wanted to build any sort of trust, Tobirama very carefully did not react to that expression and did his best to give the impression he wasn’t interested himself in this secret. 

“I believe I can keep you safe from anyone who might want to hurt you,” he declared instead. He might not have been the most refined peasant but his skill with a blade could rival that of the royal guards themselves. Or so he’d been told him once by an uncle who served in the palace until an injury left him unable to carry the buckets for cleaning or fetch the arrows for lords too lazy to walk across a field and fetch their own. Unless they encountered a magician of some sort he truly was confident he could protect this man. And since the only magician he’d ever seen round these parts was the wizened old woman who performed tricks for the court the odds felt pretty low on that happening.

“What’s it like?” Madara asked. “The world?” 

“Very big. Full of different things. Scary at times but if you use your head you can usually think your way out of things.” That was how he’d gotten through life, anyway. 

“That sounds terrifying and wonderful all at once.”

Clearly he was considering it but it was just as clear from the wary hesitation in his eyes that Madara had no intentions of following through on the offer. After spending his entire life locked in the same tiny space Tobirama couldn’t really blame him for that, either. He would have been frustrated if he hadn’t already expected that answer, planning ahead in his mind for when he could make the trip out here again. 

“I can ask as many times as it takes for you to be brave,” he promised. 

 A promise rashly made but it was one that he kept. Though he could not stay for long that day Tobirama was in the woods and calling for Madara to let down his hair only a few days after. Hashirama, the understanding brother that he was, simply waved from the doorway and told him to enjoy whichever adventure had captured his attention so. 

Their visits were all quite the same at first. Before he left the first time Tobirama instructed Madara to hang something in the window whenever the witch was gone so he would know it was safe to call up. Each time he scaled the tower and crawled over the sill Tobirama then happily spent however many hours he could spare answering all of Madara's questions about the outside world, asking his own questions in turn about life here alone. He was pleasantly surprised to know that his new friend had been provided books on mathematics and spent quite a lot of his time rereading the few novels he was allowed to have. Stifled as it was by isolation, it was obvious Madara possessed a mind just waiting to flourish. 

Watching confidence grow in his friend week by week was a special sort of joy that Tobirama would almost liken to how it had felt to raise Hashirama on his own – except he’d never been struck by the beauty of Hashirama's face in a beam of sunlight or listened rapturously to the rolling timber of his brother’s voice.

Falling in love was, perhaps, not of his smartest ideas. Of all the people he might have taken an interest in Madara was the most dangerous. Not because he thought the younger man could hurt him but because at the moment he was the only person who had ever been kind to Madara and it would only be too easy for such affections to be misplaced. The last thing he wanted would be to take advantage of someone who had put so much trust in him. 

With caution in mind Tobirama came back to Madara knowing that he himself was growing only more and more attached with each visit yet also knowing that he could not in good conscience abandon anyone stuck in this situation no matter how it all ended. There was no doubt in his mind that eventually it would be his own heart that came away with a wound but to know that Madara would find a better life than the one he had so far led, well, he couldn’t say that didn’t make this all worth it. Even if he had despised Madara to the bone he would still have come back to help. No one deserved to be kept locked away and never feel the kiss of freedom. 

Even destitute as they were, Tobirama appreciated the freedoms he and his brother enjoyed now more than ever. 

It took until the first time that Madara very nearly worked up the courage to follow him out of the tower for the man to trust him with the secret of his servitude. For all the many times they had spoken for hours upon end it had been difficult for Tobirama to bottle his curiosity, to allow such a sensitive subject to come to light on its own, and his patience was rewarded at last on the day Madara hung his feet out the window and stared at the ground so far below them. 

“How would you get down?” he asked as though it had only just occurred to him. Their plan had been for Tobirama to remain behind and free the long hair from its anchor once the other had reached the bottom. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Tobirama soothed him. “When I first came upon the tower I had planned to climb up with just my hands. I’m sure I could just as easily climb down.” 

“All that way!?” 

“It isn’t so far. When I’m out on a hunt I’ve scaled cliffs twice that height with half as many good handholds.” 

Trusting Madara with the knowledge that most of his food came from illegal poaching in the royal forest had been an easy choice. Not because he doubted the man would ever truly work up the nerve to escape but because he believed in the seeds of loyalty that grew and flourished with every day their friendship strengthened. 

“You know…I used to dream about the world when I was younger, about making some daring escape on my own. I would have done it back then for sure. Too innocent, too ignorant of all the darkness that’s out there. But even if I had known about bandits and knights and all the ways I could hurt myself without anyone there to help, the one thing that held me back was…myself.” Madara reached up to play with the shorter hairs growing around his face. “She stole me for the power that I was born with and I hate her but she’s never tried to hurt me as long as I stay. What if I ran and got caught again by someone who didn’t treat me as well?” 

“Keeping you locked in a tower doesn’t really strike me as treating you well,” Tobirama murmured under his breath. When Madara flashed him a grin he knew he’d been heard. 

“Of course that’s the part that you would comment on. You’re a good person. From what I know of people, anyway.” 

As careful as he had ever been, Tobirama took a step forward to bring them closer. “In what way?”

“Don’t play coy, we both know you’re curious as hell about why that witch keeps me here. I mentioned flat out that I have some kind of power and you still don’t ask. You’re always so careful about making me feel safe.” Madara's lips twisted in a wry expression as though acknowledging his own vulnerabilities.

“Your secrets cannot be my own unless you choose to entrust me with them.” There was really no point in denying that he was curious but even as he realized that he hadn’t been quite as subtle as he imagined Tobirama hoped to impress that he had no intentions of forcing anything the other didn’t want to tell him. He had learned a long time ago that trust was something earned, not asked for. 

His efforts were clearly appreciated. Swinging back from the window, Madara set his feet on the floor and smiled warmly. The expression suited him probably more than he’d ever been told. 

“I trust you with my life,” he declared. 

“Poor taste,” Tobirama couldn’t help but tease. He smiled to himself when Madara roared with laughter. 

“Maybe. But they’re my secrets and I’ll give them to whoever I please, so there!” 

Just hearing those words sent the heart in Tobirama’s chest galloping double time and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward on to the balls of his feet as the mystery he had turned over in his mind a thousand times unfurled itself before him. 

“You might have noticed that my hair is just a little long,” Madara began with a touch of sarcasm. “She won’t let me cut it. I don’t know how or why, she’s never bothered to explain, but my hair has some kind of magical properties – healing properties – and the longer it is the more potent the magic becomes. If I cut it short I would be able to heal small cuts and scrapes. With it long as it is now the power is so strong that my healing reverses the signs of aging.”

“Sweet flame…”

“It’s why she keeps me trapped here. She might look young but that witch is ancient, old enough to be my great grandmother. But with the power I have in me she can stay young and beautiful. Or at least she thinks she’s beautiful.” He snorted in obvious disagreement. 

Completely unsure of how to respond, all Tobirama could think to say was, “She’s not my type.” 

Madara blinked. Blinked again. Then his head tilted back and once again he roared with unfettered laughter. It was far from attractive, brash and quite similar to the bray of a donkey, and Tobirama admitted with the solemn taste of defeat on his tongue that he had never been more in love. It was a laugh that had never been taught shame or self-consciousness, beautiful in its innocence. 

“Good to know that you have no plans to use me as bait,” Madara declared when he was able to draw breath again.

“Setting aside the vomit I can feel rising in my throat at the very thought, I would never use someone in such a deceitful manner.” Reaching up to tug at a lock of his own hair, Tobirama eyed the dark braid so long it could loop several times around the entire room. “So. Magic hair. I really should have been expecting that and yet somehow I was not.”

“I guess it’s nice to be the one with new and interesting information for once.” 

The two of them shared a look and from that moment on something very subtle changed between them. 

Meat had never been so plentiful in their home as the days now with Tobirama making the journey through the forest every chance he had between working for the farmer who paid him so little. It didn’t occur to him how deeply he’d buried his head in the clouds until Hashirama greeted him home one night and asked with a grin if he would ever get to meet the one who had captured his aniki’s heart. Tobirama had made a point of holding off on another visit the next day just to spend some time with his sibling. Sweet Hashirama was such a good little brother. It was hard to believe he had ever done anything to deserve a love like the one they shared. 

Over the months that followed Madara very nearly followed him away from the tower on three different occasions. Though he never quite made it past his own balcony Tobirama could see the way his gaze lingered on the snow drifts with curiosity and wonder, how he traced the shapes of spring with naked longing in dark eyes. 

“What’s really holding you back?” he asked one day when he had stayed perhaps a little later than he usually would have.

“Her,” Madara whispered. “I want to leave and never come back but…what if she follows? What if she finds me?” He paused and looked away with something like pain etched in to his features. “What if she hurts you? After everything you’ve done for me I can’t imagine repaying your kindness by leading her straight to you.”

“I can protect myself,” Tobirama reminded his friend, daring to step close enough for their arms to brush together. Small touches were all he ever allowed himself. 

The minutes passed but he held his silence, allowing the other to follow whatever paths his thoughts had led him down. When their eyes met again he was surprised to see that all gravity had faded and instead a mischievous grin was looking back at him. 

“Can you protect yourself from this?” Madara demanded, both hands raised as though to give a solid shove. 

He was frozen halfway through the motion by a voice calling out from below. 

“Madara, let down your hair!” Both of them looked at each other in panic even as Madara slid off the windowsill and moved towards the anchor on muscle memory alone. 

“She’s supposed to be gone for hours!” he hissed. “What do we do?”

“Don’t keep her waiting. Keep her attention away from the window once she’s up here so that I can slip out. I’ve told you before I can climb down on my own, don’t worry.” Tobirama make shooing motions with both hands to hurry the other along. Only when Madara finally leaned down to begin looping the end of his hair around the metal ring did Tobirama turn and madly search for a place to hide. 

There wasn’t much, even less that was close enough to the window that he could sneak out undetected. For once in his life he cursed his own tall stature as he discarded a standing mirror that would have been perfect were it not two heads shorter than him and too thin to crouch behind. To the other side of the window there lay a sizable storage chest he might have fit in but the noise he would have made climbing out vetoed that option even before he checked whether there was enough room inside. A frantic noise from behind sent Tobirama scrambling in to the only viable hiding spot he was able to see. 

Usually it was children who hid themselves behind the drapery and thought themselves concealed. He could only pray that the witch didn’t think to look down at her own feet lest she spy his. 

Forcing himself to keep still as he listened to the sounds of the witch he’d heard so much about clambering in to the dungeon she had created was probably the hardest thing Tobirama had ever done. Her weight made less noise than the voluminous robes he had once seen her in, silk and satin whispering as they dragged across the wooden frame. Her shadow fell over him and for a single heartbeat he felt the very blood in his veins go cold thinking that she’d seen him. Then it moved away and Madara's voice captured her attention, his only opening.

“You said you’d be gone longer,” his friend snarled. 

“It isn’t for you to wonder at my comings and goings.” Her voice was melodic in the way Tobirama had always imagined an evil witch’s might be, honeyed and soft to draw you in until the frost hidden in her words bit and snapped, striking just at the moment one was foolish enough to trust her. 

“Hmph, I’ll wonder at whatever I please.” 

Praying that his friend wouldn’t go overboard in his attempts to keep drawing attention, Tobirama peeked around the curtain and barely held in a sigh of relief to see that the coast was clear. He wasted no time slipping over to the window and sliding on to it, movements as fast as he dared to make them without allowing his clothing to give him away with their rustling. Madara's eyes flicked over to meet his own in farewell but it was only a moment. As he turned himself around to descend feet first he could hear the other man give vent to a loud grumble. 

“And how many new babies did you kidnap while you were away today? None? Ah, I suppose you stopped and gobbled them up for your lunch then. Is that why you’re back so soon? Too full from your snac-!”

His voice cut off with the ringing sound of a slap and Tobirama went still just out of sight, eyes wide, glaring at the stone between him and the woman he so desperately wished did not exist. 

“Do not forget that I hold your life in my hands,” the woman’s voice hissed, all softness forgotten. “It is only by my mercy that you aren’t chained to the walls with only bread and butter to soothe the aching emptiness in your belly – or would you rather a taste of such a life to remind you of your place?” 

“No,” Madara surrendered. Even without being able to see him anymore Tobirama could hear the defeat in his tone. Fingers clenching against the bricks until they scraped and bled, he clung to the side of the tower and wished death upon the evil within it. Never had he hated another person so much. He wasn’t even sure she truly qualified as a person, barely human in his eyes after all the things he’d heard of her, and that opinion was only solidified as he bent all of his willpower in to convincing himself not to climb back inside and give her a taste of his bloodied fists. 

Only the knowledge that doing so would make things worse for the one he wished to protect held him back. 

“Say my name,” the witch purred. “Go on, answer me properly this time. Would you like a taste of what you truly deserve, my little magic boy?” 

“No, Kaguya-sama.”

“Ah, I do so love the sweet music of obedience when you say my name. Go. Begone to your room. You may count yourself lucky if I see fit to bring you your dinner after such offensive behavior.”

Though he waited Tobirama heard nothing more after the sound of Madara freeing his hair and dragging it all with him to one of the walled off areas that Tobirama had never asked to see. Bedrooms were private places and for someone afforded so little privacy he’d never seen fit to invade Madara's. 

Climbing down was as arduous yet uneventful as he imagined it would be. By the time he reached the bottom his arms were nearly ready to fall off and his fingers had all gone entirely numb. After shaking out his limbs and resting until the sensation came back Tobirama considered whether he should wait a little longer until darkness fell, dark skies offering what little protection they could against wandering eyes that might look out the window at just the wrong time. In the end he decided that it would be just as easy to spot him then as it would now and someone who just returned home was less likely to be gazing out at the world than someone settled in for the evening. His heart hammered in his throat as he took off across the hidden grove like a rabbit fleeing from a wolf’s jaws. 

Hashirama greeted him with a smile when he came home, stumbling through the front door with no memory of his journey back through the woods. Worry replaced his usual cheer as soon as he took in the expression on his brother’s face.

“I’ve just made tea!” he said. “Come, sit! What on earth is wrong?” 

Like a little mother hen the younger man fluttered around their modest kitchen, cups rattling together when he pulled out too many for just the pair of them, lips pursed anxiously until he finally made it back to the table with the promised tea. With all his running around it had probably gone half cold but Tobirama found he didn’t mind. It was nice to be cared for, even in the moments like now when he felt a little guilty about it. He should have been the one taking care of Hashirama as the older sibling. 

“You look like you’ve been summoned before the royal court!” 

“Worse than that.” Tobirama gratefully accepted the tea that slid across the table towards him. “I just came face to face with the urge to take the life of another human being. And I know that I would have felt no guilt for it.” 

“Oh my…” Hashirama swallowed but – bless his soul – there was no judgement on his face. 

Unable to look away from the dark liquid steaming before him, Tobirama drew in a breath and let it back out slowly. “I should have been honest with you a long time ago. Will you listen to my story?” 

“Always. You’re allowed your secrets Anija!” His brother’s voice was so full of love and understanding that it made him ache. “If you trust me with them I would love to hear what you have to say.” When he finally looked up Hashirama was beaming as though to share things between them was a great gift rather than simply the way it should have been from the very start. 

So Tobirama told him the truth about where he had been disappearing to over the past year. He told Hashirama about the young man he had met locked away in a tower, though he did not reveal why. That was not his secret to tell. He described the witch who kept his friend locked away and admitted that he hadn’t the faintest idea of what her true powers really were. When he had said all the words that he could force along his tongue he fell silent and waited to hear the verdict, the opinion, of one who thought so differently than himself. 

He was startled by the hand that reached across to take his own. 

“You love him,” was the first thing his brother said. 

“I don’t know how you do that,” Tobirama murmured. “How you just look at someone and see how they feel even when they don’t say it.” 

“Well of course you never have to say anything, Anija, I always know what’s in your heart!” 

Hashirama squeezed his fingers a little tighter and Tobirama the sensation deep inside his chest. 

“This world does not deserve you, Otouto. I…you’re right. There might be some feelings on my part. But you understand why I can’t say anything to him?” He was both glad and disheartened to see the other nod. 

“Do you have a plan?” Hashirama asked. 

“Yes.” Tobirama chewed his bottom lip with thought. “I knew the moment I heard his story that I wanted to help him escape but of course he’ll need somewhere to go. I want to bring him here. My hunting can keep us all fed and if I’m not traipsing through the forest so often I’ll have time to see about picking up extra work somewhere else. You would like him. And if there’s anyone that would be a good friend for someone in his situation it would be you.” 

“I can’t wait to meet him!” 

Chest spasming with the clenching of his heart, Tobirama bowed his head. “You’re okay with this?” 

“Of course! Goodness, I can’t believe you haven’t spirited him away already and hidden him under your bed!” While Hashirama's mouth turned up with a little giggle Tobirama felt his cheeks grow warm. Just imagining such a scenario had him forcibly moving his thoughts elsewhere. He didn’t want to think about how much he would enjoy Madara in any sort of context concerning his bedroom. Not with his little brother right there.

Knowing that he had Hashirama's blessing was a weight off his chest that he hadn’t acknowledged was even there until it was gone. The two of them had always been close enough that keeping any sort of secret felt wrong no matter what the younger said. Freeing himself of that guilt made each step lighter as he disappeared in to the woods the next time he was able to slip away, mumbling promises to himself under his breath that the next time he entered these trees it would be in search of food and nothing more. 

With his head so lost in thoughts of the future and all the many ways it could play out his trip to the hidden oasis flew by almost without notice. His feet tread along the familiar path on muscle memory alone while he tried to imagine what expression Madara would wear the first time his feet touched grass, how quickly his body would tire when travelling long distances for the first time, what expression he might wear to see the hustle and bustle of a real village after a lifetime of quiet solitude. It was hardly the first time he had fantasized about such things but they had never had such an immediate taste of anticipation before. 

It was only when he had made his way through the passage and looked up to see a familiar blue strip of silk hanging in the window that he realized how lucky he’d been with his timing, how carelessly he had crashed through the forest in his rush to get here. All it would take would be one unexpected meeting with the witch and everything would be ruined. Neither he nor Madara knew where she went during the times she left him alone in the tower but neither truly cared to know. She was gone. That was all that mattered. 

“Madara,” he called up, excitement tight in his voice. “Let down your hair!” 

He only needed to wait half a minute before coil after impossible coil came flowing down to brush the earth, a scant few inches longer than it had been the day he first made this climb. After the amount of times it had been since then Tobirama’s arms were stronger than ever and he pulled himself up the side of the tower with a speed that would have impressed himself but a few months before. 

Full of hope and happiness after speaking with his brother, it felt like nothing less than a cold knife in the heart when Tobirama crawled over the windowsill to be confronted with the sight of a purpling bruise on Madara's cheek. His friend stood tall and proud in the face of his stare, undoubtedly aware of why, refusing to be ashamed of his own situation. It wasn’t the first time Tobirama had seen a mark like that on the other man but it was the first time he’d understood that it wasn’t a result of clumsiness or any sort of accident. Just the sight of it had his blood boiling with rage all over again.

“I know what you’re going to say–” Madara began. Tobirama cut him off. 

“Come with me.”

His words gave the other pause. “Okay, so I didn’t know you were going to say that. I should have, you’ve said it before, but I thought…”

“You don’t need me to tell you that how she treats you is wrong, you’re not stupid.”

“Damn right!”

“Please,” stepping forward, Tobirama dared to be so bold as to take his friend’s hand. “Come with me. My brother has already agreed that you can stay with us. I can show you anything you want to see and teach you anything you want to learn. Come with me. Let me take you away from here.”

To his great surprise Madara did not pull away, only turned his head to look out the window with a familiar distant gaze. He wanted to, that much was obvious, wanted to know what it was to be entirely in control of his own destiny. 

“I would stay with you?” he murmured. 

“For as long as you want to.”

“You don’t think you’d get tired of me pointing out when you’re being a boor?” Madara's grin was sharp and yet so very fragile, steel encasing glass so ready to shatter. 

“I could never tire of you in any way,” Tobirama admitted. It was perhaps a bit too honest but if it got him the results he’d been trying to achieve for an entire year then it was worth the pain of laying his heart bare. Madara's freedom was worth everything he had to give and more. 

Much to his pleasure he was not met with disgust or dismay or even the sort of hesitance that comes before rejection. Instead he was blessed with the sight of a warm pink spreading over Madara's pale cheeks, chin ducking in to his wide collar almost shyly and then immediately jerking upright in defiance of his own emotions. Watching him navigate the roller coaster of his heart would always be a pleasure and an amusement both. 

Breathing deeply with determination in his eyes Madara took a single step forward, bringing them closer than they ever had been before, close enough to feel the heat of each other’s bodies, sharing air as their gazes locked. 

“Ask me one more time,” he demanded. 

“Come with me.”

“Okay.” 

Unlike all the other times they had spoken these exact same words there was something different in him now, a straightness in his spine, a steadiness in his voice. Tobirama felt almost as though his heart were fluttering in his throat. Difficult as it was he managed somehow not to float straight off the ground as a pink tongue flicked out to wet Madara's lips and then his friend was leaning forward, closer than close, brushing their mouths together with all the innocence of one who knew nothing of the world but the feelings he carried in his heart. 

“You’re sure?” Tobirama whispered. 

“Of you? Yes.”

While he was still trying to breathe past the thunder in his ears he found himself rather pleasantly distracted by the touch of lips against his own once more and this time he had enough wits about him to respond in kind, drinking in the sweet sounds that followed like fine wine. He had only kissed one boy before. Puberty had left him restless, curious, all too aware of the way some of the eyes of others near his age had followed him around. His explorations then had been chaste and unsatisfying enough that he turned his attention away from any sort of intimate pursuits – that is, until the day he realized exactly how attached he had become to the boy in the tower. 

He was still flying high with his head in the clouds when they parted, Madara's hand tightening where they were still linked between them. Nothing in his life so far had ever quite compared to the joy he felt when he saw his friend, his most precious hidden treasure, move to anchor his hair in its usual place. When he secured it through the ring bolted to the floor he did so at the opposite end from his own head to allow himself a rope with which to climb down. 

“You’ll follow after?” he asked, already moving to the window. 

“Always,” Tobirama promised. “Wherever you go, so long as you’ll have me, I will follow.” 

“Here’s hoping you enjoy the view from behind then.” Filled with the wild energy of escape, Madara sent him a wink before clambering up and over the sill. He waited just long enough to look back and make sure that Tobirama had taken the ends of his hair to lower him down with. 

Then he took a tight grip with both hands, closed his eyes, and with a smile unlike anything Tobirama had ever seen before he put his trust in to another’s hands along with his weight. Watching his head disappear from sight was sweet. Hearing his voice give a triumphant crow only moments later was even sweeter. The strain on his muscles was next to nothing as Tobirama fed the massive braid of magic hair downward bit by bit; strangely he found the most difficult part was convincing himself not to cry. An odd feeling. He’d never been the type to get overwhelmed by his emotions like that. 

It took several minutes longer than his own descent would have for Madara to reach the bottom. Tobirama made sure the journey downward remained slow and steady to make him as comfortable and unafraid as possible. Only when he felt the line go slack did he allow his stance to waver and his arms to relax and the second he was sure the other had reached the ground he was dashing over to the window to look down. 

Madara's neck craned back to look up at him, on hand cupped around his mouth while the other waved madly through the air.

“Tobirama,” he called, “let down my hair!” Then he looked down at his own feet and even from so far above his voice could be heard crying out with excitement. “It tickles! The grass tickles! This is amazing!” 

No matter how quickly he was able to tear his eyes away Tobirama was doomed. There was no denying the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes any longer, though he consoled himself that they were at least tears of joy. Tears for the happiest he had ever been in his entire life. In this moment he could not imagine anything else that he could possibly wish for. 

He should have known the universe would prove him wrong. After freeing the hair from its anchor for what he hoped would be the very last time it was only one quick-as-possible climb down familiar stones before he too was standing in the lush grass and admiring the wonder on Madara's beautiful face, laughing at the way dark hair dragged along the earth unattended. Though he knew that they should hurry away from this place he couldn’t quite bring himself to break the moment until finally the other’s eyes returned to him and pale hands reached for his own. 

This, this was the moment in which he could ask for nothing more, he realized. With Madara's fingers between his own he had everything he could ever need. 

“I did it.” Words whispered thick with disbelief, sharp with joy, lighter than the air they breathed. 

“Welcome to the world,” Tobirama whispered back. 

“Take me away from here,” Madara demanded. “Take…take me home. I’ve never had a home before.” 

“You can have one with me.” 

Where the witch had gone they did not know. How she would react to finding her captive missing they had no idea. Tobirama knew only one thing for sure as he slipped off his shoes to offer the other and led them towards the passageway in to the rest of the world. 

He would protect this man no matter what. Whatever the future held he would fight to protect this precious treasure that he had found, that he had freed, that he had fallen in love with and never looked back. 

#rae writes #madatobiweek2020 #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction #fairy tale au

[watarigarasu]

May 22nd – Body Swap AU

Lyn’s Writing Event

Pairing: Guy of Gisborne x Reader

Word count: 1,414

Warnings: None

Author’s note: I was hoping to make this story rather humorous so please, take it with a pinch of salt ;)

“This is going to be a complete disaster…” you muttered to yourself, your knees soft and hands trembling nervously. No matter how much you tried to calm yourself down, it did not succeed, the overwhelming feeling of an upcoming catastrophe occupying your whole mind and making it impossible to think logically.

“Hush,” Guy silenced you with a single move of the wrist and you looked down at him—or at yourself, to be more precise. “It surely will be one if you keep complaining and embarrassing me, I can guarantee that. Now, straighten up and stop looking at me with those teary eyes, you should be inside soon.”

You took another deep breath, not really hoping that it will help to soothe your nerves. You wanted to talk this idea thoroughly with him, but did not find any words which could convince him to change his mind. It was barely midday and you were already deadly tired.

“Please, you cannot make me do this,” you half-whispered and pointed at the nearest door, leading to the main hall of the Nottingham castle. “I cannot go to the meeting with Sheriff and all those Black Knights, they will kill me as soon as they will realize that something is wrong with you—with me.”

“Then act as if there is nothing wrong,” he growled. “This meeting is significant for the whole plan, without it we will be left without the strategy and resources and I cannot allow it to happen, especially because of my absence. You will go there, participate in the meeting, remember as much as you can and then tell me everything afterwards. Just do not speak without being asked to.”

“And what will you be doing in a meantime?”

“I will go back to Locksley, find that wretched witch and make her pay.” You noticed how he involuntarily reached for his sword which was now by your side and sighed at the realization. “You give me that.”

“No way.” You took a step back, grabbing the hilt of the sword as if you were expecting him to try to take if from you by the force. “You will not leave me here all alone and defenseless.”

“You have to idea how to fight with it, anyway.”

“But nobody knows that! Everyone here thinks I am one of the most skilled swordsmen in the whole Nottingham and I honestly hope that will suffice to stop them from attacking me.”

“Do not try to bribe with compliments, I won’t change my mind.”

You looked at him with utter resignation. Naturally, you could simply decline and walk away, it was not as if he was capable of physically stopping you, not while being trapped in your body, but you were aware of how important it was both for him and his career. You did not want to ruin it with your anxiety but the risk seemed to be too high this time. Or maybe you were just slightly paranoid?

“What if they will ask me questions?”

“I am sure that you can think of something, you never seem to lose your wit when it comes to talking back, besides—stop doing it right now!”

“I will stop when you will start wearing more comfortable trousers, the leather is squeezing my—“

“Enough!” He grabbed your hand and pulled it back from the crotch, the annoyance in his eyes now more vivid than when he realized what happened to you two in the morning.

From this perspective you could clearly see your face in a way you have never seen it before and you had to admit that it was quite interesting. It really was you, your body and your eyes glaring at you not from the reflection in the mirror. Thankfully you were the one who make sure that your hair were styled properly today, although Guy was rather resistant toward brushing them in the first place. Eventually, he agreed for you to pick up the clothes for him, also.

“Goodness,” you frowned and grabbed his—yours—chin to look at yourself from the other angle. “Does my face always look like that?”

Guy violently slapped your hand, visibly irritated with the way you were treating him. That was something new. He must have noticed the mischievous smile on your lips, because the next sentence he spoke with audible cautiousness:

“Whatever you are planning, remember that sooner or later I will be back in my own body and then you will be sorry.”

“I am thinking about performing a serenade in a name of my endless love for the woman I adore with every inch of my body and soul.”

“Do. Not. Dare…”

“Ah, Gisborne!” You both jolted at the sudden voice echoing in the corridor and when you turned toward the source you saw Sheriff walking toward you with two guards behind his back. “There you are, I have been waiting for you.”

Surprised, you did not react until Guy discreetly kicked you in an ankle.

“Sir!” you exclaimed then and cleared your throat. “I hope that not for too long, sir.”

“No, not really.” He stopped in front of you and when he looked you in the eyes, you were afraid that he could see the whole truth as if it was served on the golden plate. “Let’s begin, there is no time to lose!”

With that, he passed you and went into the hall. Quickly, you exchanged looks with Guy and followed the Sheriff with a heavy feeling in your chest. You could only hope that Guy will succeed in convincing the witch to bring you back to normal—and that he won’t be bugged on the way. The last thing you needed right now was a trial for murder.

In the end, it was not the meeting which happened to be the most disappointing part of that damned day, but the way out of the city and to Locksley, where you were supposed to see the so-called witch who cursed you. To your joy, you were not asked any questions other than those which you could actually answer to, trying to act as much like Gisborne as possible—by smiling maliciously and acting confidently. When you went out of the hall, Sheriff dismissed you and in a blink of an eye Guy appeared by your side, pointing out that it would be reckless to travel alone to Locksley with no weapon.

“I have to remember that,” you said cheerfully, when you were walking through market to the main gates. “Sir Guy of Gisborne is only feeling safe with me.”

“You need to remember that it is only the other way around everyday,” he hissed. The whole adventure of living in your body was exhausting, it has been barely few hours and he was already tired of your lack of strength and skills—not to mention the lack of respect he was treated with. Still, he took a mental note of how significant was his presence for you, how you could always rely on him and how you could expect him to protect you from any kind of danger. You needed him and it was quite exciting.

Wondering about how would the witch react for the news you were going to bring to her, you noticed, thanks to your new height, how one of the townsmen dropped few beetroots from his bag and walked away, clearly not realizing that he has lost his property. Without much thinking, you caught up with him, grabbed the vegetables and handed them to the man who, upon recognizing your face, grew completely pale, as if he was seeing a ghost. Only then you realized what have you done and with a quick: “You are welcome” you came back to Guy, hoping to disappear in the crowd before anyone would notice that whole situation.

“What was that?” he asked in a darkly calm voice, while massaging his temples.

“He would have lost it if—“

“For God’s sake, woman, I have a reputation.” He grabbed you by the arms, jaw clenched tightly. “You cannot ruin it all in one day!”

“Well,” you shrugged. “At that moment you are not helping yourself either.”

The realization stroke him and he immediately let go of you, understanding what did the curious looks from the passersby mean. All they were seeing was deputy’s woman giving him a lecture in the middle of the market.

Oh, what had he done to deserve it…

#lyn's writing event #guy of gisborne #guy of gisborne x reader #sir guy of gisborne #sir guy of gisborne x reader #bbc robin hood

[whispersafterdusk]

Lost in Time - ch 3

That night he'd left Sam and Remington to guard the sinkhole and had helped Xu get Dawa and the unconscious woman back to the clinic.  Dawa was cleaned up, shown how to wrap his badly sprained ankle, given some painkillers, and was released; the woman was still unconscious when Arlo stopped by the following morning -- Xu assured him that the woman seemed healthy enough but that he'd have to monitor her closely since there was no telling how she'd been kept alive for so long inside that tube or what that preservation might have done to her.

Arlo had a nagging curiosity about the woman - and who wouldn't?  The realization had hit him as he was dressing that morning that they'd just pulled a woman out of an Old World facility, who might actually BE from the Old World herself.  That was huge.  It wasn't even something he'd have believed if he hadn't personally witnessed it himself.  Who she was, what year she'd come from, how she'd ended up down there...all of those were questions he knew he needed answers for but first he'd have to wait for her to wake up and recover and then hope it wouldn't be too overwhelming for her to find herself in a completely different time period. ((Continued below cut))

It was just one more thing on his mind as he walked out to the sinkhole with Selene and Higgins both in tow; he'd had to firmly put his foot down once already and none-too-politely tell Higgins he wasn't allowed down into the facility without a Civil Corps escort unless he wanted to be locked up until his shop fell off the leader boards entirely. Higgins had a tendency to "be the best" at the expense of everything and everyone else, and Arlo could absolutely see the man attempting to sneak down into the ruins to claim all the "best" stuff for himself and selfishly hoard things out of the reach of the Research Center and the other builders in Portia.  He'd not mentioned the woman to Higgins yet but it had occurred to him, on the walk out there, that their mystery woman might actually have personal property down in that facility, and that if anyone had a claim to anything out of there it'd be her.

The minor hitch with that thought was since Arlo hadn't mentioned the woman yet and probably shouldn't mention her until Gale made an announcement...until Arlo could definitively say "this absolutely does not belong to you" he knew Higgins would probably think it'd be worth it to try and risk sneaking in.  

With that in mind his misgivings about bringing Higgins along doubled but...unfortunately Selene couldn't handle a job of this magnitude on her own in a quick enough manner for Gale's liking, and while Arlo even had doubts that Higgins would wait long enough for them to get the skeletons out before he tried taking anything the more pressing matter was making sure that sinkhole didn't get any bigger or further damage the facility and risk something leaking out into their water supply (again).  To do that quickly they'd need the man's help...there just wasn't any way around it.

Up ahead the bright red tent Remington had set up stood out against the snow and served as a beacon for them between the trees.  They all carried rope and tools, and Selene had measuring equipment and an old metal detector she'd cobbled together with the Research Center's help; once they'd taken some measurements and more closely examined the shaft they'd have Dana give her recommendations on how best to reinforce everything (on the basis that the elevator shaft wasn't too different from a mining shaft and if anyone would know how to shore up crumbling dirt walls walls it'd be her).

In front of the tent was a sizeable bonfire burning away, and as they approached Remington came out of the tent.

"How was your night?"

"Not too bad, actually.  Set that little alarm clock to go off every couple of hours and Sam and I swapped off to keep the fire going," Remington grinned.  "Planted the tent off to the side and all the heat came right in while the smoke blew by."

Arlo nodded; he'd felt bad that they'd had to stay out in the elements all night but then again, thinking back to his doubts about Higgins... "Good to know.  I'll be taking tonight's post.  Did you see anyone?"

"Not a soul."

"Good."  He turned to Selene and Higgins then.  "Selene's already been down there, and I've already briefed you on what to expect," he said, directing  that to Higgins.  "We're not constructing anything today - all Gale wants us to focus on today is assessing and then taking those assessments to Dana to create a plan.  Any questions?"

Both builders shook their heads, and Arlo led them over to the tied off rope that was now connected to a motorized winch and pulley system staked in the ground with big iron rail spikes; Remington must have been busy overnight as there were now four sets of makeshift rope harnesses hanging from the lowest branches of the tree the rope system was connected to.

"The motor can handle two at a time," Selene said as she inspected one of the harnesses.  "-you know, if you don't mind being face to face, back to back, or face to whatever with someone in close quarters."

"One at a time sounds fine," came Sam's voice from behind them, her tone as dry as the desert; she headed over to slip on a harness as the others chuckled and readied themselves to head down.

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

He needed to make a quick trip back into town before camping out for the night and on his way in Arlo stopped at the clinic again.

"How is she?"

Xu looked up from a pile of papers on his desk.  "Well, the vitals I'm getting are getting stronger.  She's surprisingly not too dehydrated and while there's some signs of muscle atrophy it's not debilitatingly so.  There's some skin break down and irritation where all those wires and things were glued on, and..." he paused, tapping the end of his pen on the table.  "Well.  I shouldn't speculate.  She does have some very strange scarring patterns but I'll wait until she wakes to discuss their origin with her."

Arlo glanced over to the bed in the corner that held the woman; her hair was dry and someone had loosely pulled it into a ponytail just over her left shoulder - Phyllis was there silently taking the woman's pulse and recording it on a clipboard in hand.  

The woman looked as pale as the white hospital gown she now wore and could have easily been mistaken for a wax statue if he didn't already know she was a living, breathing person.  "Keep us posted, and keep this quiet as well - and that's by Gale's orders."

"Oh I know, he's already been by.  In fact, he told me to bar entry to anyone that wasn't you and the Corps, Phyllis, or himself -- with an exception for those sick and injured, of course, but then I think the screen is enough to keep her from view." Xu chuckled and swept up the papers, beginning to tap them on the table to even them out into a neat stack - Arlo noticed the topmost page had two cartoonish outline drawings of a female body, front and back, and Xu had made markings across the halves.  "Even if he hadn't I don't think I'd be telling anyone anyway.  They'd probably think I'd lost my mind."

Arlo nodded.  "If I hadn't been there myself I wouldn't believe it either."  With that he left the clinic and headed further into town; once he had stocked up on food, bought another long-sleeved undershirt, new liners for his boots, and had stopped by his room to grab a whetstone he trekked back out for his turn at keeping watch over the sinkhole.

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

With such an unusual situation and a patient that was both a delicate case and also not an alarming concern Xu had brought over pillows and blankets from his home and packed a dinner and breakfast for himself.   The floor of his clinic wasn't all that comfortable but at the very least if all he did was lightly doze then he'd hear every little noise in the room and could respond immediately if the woman took a sudden turn for the worse.

Or, as it happened, if she happened to wake up.

The change in her breathing pattern was very slight - barely more than a pause and a quiet gasp - but in the silent room it stood out to his practiced ears, and in an instant he was flinging blankets aside to get on his feet and over to her bed.

Her eyes were open but unfocused and she didn't seem to notice him appearing beside her even when he flipped on the lamp at the head of her bed; when he waved a hand within her line of sight she flinched and sank further into her pillows.

"Hello there - can you hear me?  My name is Dr. Xu."

Her eyelids fluttered -- he knew then that this sudden bout of consciousness wasn't going to last long.  Carefully he reached out to take her pulse, and her head on the pillow slowly turned in his direction.

"Can you hear me?  Can you tell me your name?"

A few garbled noises came out of her then right as she slipped back into unconsciousness Xu swore he heard at least one word that sounded like 'Elizabeth.'  

He remained standing there for some time, taking her pulse at regular intervals and monitoring as it returned to normal levels.  When she was back to her baseline vital readings he turned the lamp off and headed back to his desk, taking up his pen and writing Elizabeth across the top of the woman's file.

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

The temperature was slowly warming as the days passed -- it was still definitely cold (it WAS winter after all) but the frigid front that had brought that monster storm with it had long since moved on and Portia was gradually returning to a more normal winter temperature range.

This was, of course, a double edged sword, especially out near the sinkhole; the mud was only getting deeper the more everything thawed out and it was starting to make it a bit dangerous to get anywhere near the lip of the hole.  Selene was already drawing up plans to build an anchored platform around the sinkhole, leaving Higgins the bulk of the work when it came to making the support beams and cross braces for the shaft.  The two of them (after Arlo had 'gently' persuaded Higgins to act like a team member) had managed to outsource some of the minor parts to the smaller shops in town and yet even with five builder's shops working together it was still going to be a week or two before the shaft was shored up and the platform built.

Arlo felt thankful (and a bit guilty that he felt thankful) that tonight wasn't his turn to take the overnight watch as he waded back into town, coated in mud to his knees and wanting little more than a meal and a bath but, as he did each time he came back in after a watch, he went to the clinic first.

Phyllis greeted him as he came through the door, then somewhat awkwardly asked him to wipe his feet -- not that that would do much but it did get the point across that it would be appreciated if he wouldn't track mud in beyond the door.  From the doorway he couldn't see the bed behind the screen but he could see the back half of Dr. Xu, and could hear a quiet conversation going on back there in the corner.

'Does that mean she's awake?'

Phyllis walked over to Xu and placed a hand on his shoulder; Xu leaned his head back enough to peer around the edge of the screen to look over at Arlo at the door.  After a moment (it seemed like he'd shuffled something from hand to hand) Xu flashed Arlo a confirming gesture -- everything was all right.

He also assumed that meant that yes, the woman was awake.  That also probably meant that now wasn't the time to intrude.

Arlo gave Xu a quick nod in return and left the clinic, plodding from its doorway over to the Corps building.  Sam was inside "sparring" with the training dummy and stopped when he entered, looking him up and down.

"Wow."

"Yeah.  The mud is getting worse.  Selene's going to put a platform up for us to work off of before we all sink up to our eyelids in it."

He'd been hoping the Corps building would be empty (he wanted to strip his boots and pants off right there, but wouldn't do that in front of Sam) so he settled for kicking off his boots and very carefully tiptoeing across the room to his bedroom, doing his best not to shed too much mud as he went.  Once inside his quarters he stood on an old throw rug and stripped down, leaving the muddy clothing in a heap on the rug.  His legs were cold, clammy, and red.

"-Sam, could you get me a bucket of water?"

He heard a muffled acknowledgement; while he waited he rubbed a towel up and down his legs, working warmth and feeling back into them.  Soon there was a single knock at his door and when he cracked it open there was the requested bucket of water and he could just see Sam's back disappearing out the front door - Remington was out there now for the rest of the afternoon and soon Sam would be relieving him for the overnight post.

He brought the bucket inside and sat it next to the table he used as a desk; after retrieving the old bristled brush he kept in his wardrobe he began to attack his boots and get the worst of the mud off his pants.  The water was looking pretty grim by the time he was done and finally Arlo tossed the soaked pants over the banister of the stairs at his door and left the boots tucked under the stairs before moving to get dressed in clean clothes.  His stomach was making it very clear it was time for a meal and after hours of being out in the cold he was thinking a plate of spaghetti drenched in hot sauce was in order.

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

She'd asked him to call her Eli and Dr. Xu was happy to oblige - honestly he was just happy she'd awakened and actually stayed awake for more than a few passing moments while seeming alert and roughly aware of where she was.

Talking was difficult for her so he was careful to phrase everything in 'yes' or 'no' questions so she could nod or shake her head and despite the initial awkwardness of her struggle to form words and his struggle to boil his thought processes down into only two variables they were able to get a few tidbits of information across.

He'd learned she was Elizabeth Summers, and preferred to go by Eli.   She wasn't in any pain.  She hadn't been aware of the scarring across her body until Xu had brought it to her attention.

Perhaps more importantly she'd communicated she was a Dubei native...if he'd had any doubts about what time period she'd come from that certainly settled them.

Being as she couldn't quite carry on a conversation Xu decided against trying to broach the subject of where and when she was now; after his quick questioning session she'd drifted back to sleep and he went back to his desk to record all the details he'd gotten while Phyllis hovered at his elbow.

To be honest Xu had had doubts she would know anything about her scarring; in a way it was probably for the best as what it LOOKED like pointed to a rather horrific origin.  

Namely, it looked like parts of her had been sewn back together.

Both arms had long lines of scars, of various lengths, up and down from shoulder to wrist, with circular scars at the shoulder and across every finger joint -- they were reddish pink lines with tiny dots beside them reminiscent of suture marks.  These same sorts of scars were also along her chin and jawline on the right side, her lower ribcage area, and down her left leg.  It brought to mind something like a ragdoll's stitching, though more precise and tidy than one would find on a children's toy.

Considering her origin and what he was seeing on her body he had a theory that she'd suffered some sort of terrible trauma and that facility she'd been found in had been some sort of medical center, and it amazed him to think that the Old World had had such technology that they could seemingly stitch a person back together and have that person survive the ordeal (much less survive for 300 years afterward!)

He would need to have a talk with the Research Center, the Civil Corps, and the builders of Portia - if that truly was a medical center down there then the place shouldn't be torn apart willy nilly.  Maybe with this woman's help they could identify medical equipment that they could still use or replicate...just the thought of being able to reclaim even a fraction of the medical knowledge and tools of the Old World had Xu nearly vibrating in excitement.

One day at a time, however.  The first step would be getting Elizabeth healthy again, without causing her undue suffering when it came time to gently break it to her that she was 300 years outside of her time period and there was no returning to the world she'd once known.

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

Together the five builders that called Portia home managed to get all the bits and pieces crafted and in place for the sinkhole.

They'd gotten the platform up around the perimeter of the sinkhole first and had created a dual-motor system that raised and lowered an improvised elevator car that was open on two sides (so they could access the doors on either side of the shaft without adding too many moving parts for the power stones to handle) and had rubber wheels mounted on the two walls to keep it steady inside the shaft since it was a slimmer car compared to the original one they'd found (and dismantled) at the bottom.  Cutting all those vines free had taken an entire day on its own but it had been worth it now that they could move up and down the shaft as needed via a system of levers at the top, bottom, and also one within the elevator car itself.

The walls were now secured with heavy wooden and steel beams and metal plating that would hopefully keep the dirt walls of the upper half from crumbling further; once that had been completed they'd moved on to attempting to rewire doors to allow access into the upper levels of the facility to check for more remains -- the second thing on Gale's list had been getting an approximate "head count" for how many graves they would need to dig.  Arlo had a sinking feeling they'd need a lot more space than Gale was expecting - probably more than they had room for in Portia's graveyard - and he suspected that they may have to dig a mass grave when it came down to it.  Petra and Merlin were eager to examine and study the facility and had expressed hope that the computers were intact enough to maybe pull a staffing roster but even if they could how would they match names to skeletons?  A mass grave with a tombstone bearing whatever names they could find would probably be the best they could manage.

Tonight had been his night to keep watch; he was debating whether to build the fire back up or leave it for the others to decide as the sun was beginning to peek over the hills when he spied Remington heading out toward him -- seems the time to switch out was just about here, and if Remington was already on his way then Selene and the others wouldn't be too far behind.

He grabbed a light breakfast at Django's and headed back up the hill intending to go to his room and catch a couple hours of sleep but found himself pausing to look to the clinic -- Xu had mentioned the woman had awakened a few times but each time Arlo had checked in she was asleep still. Should he check in again?  It was more for his own curiosity than anything else as he had no ties to her (though, he didn't need to be her friend to worry about her health he supposed) but maybe there was a point where his constant checking would be intrusive...

Arlo's train of thought was interrupted as the clinic doors slid open and Xu walked out; the doctor saw him standing there halfway between the clinic and the Corps building and offered him a quick wave.

"Good morning, Arlo."

"Morning.  How's your patient?"

"Doing well.  Getting stronger, staying awake for longer periods.   I'm actually off to Carol's to see about clothing for her since I'll need to have her up and walking soon to start building those muscles up.  -- oh, and have you seen Selene leave yet?  I may need crutches or a cane to assist Elizabeth in the short term as she gets her legs back under her."

Elizabeth?  That must be the woman's name.  "I haven't, but if you hurry you might catch her before she gets too far out.  If you don't manage to catch her let me know and I'll tell her when I go back out to the sinkhole later today."

"I will, thanks.  Have a good morning."

"You too."

As Xu's steps turned toward the ramp that led down to the plaza Arlo finally headed in to the Corps building; it was quiet and he was yawning his head off as he plodded down the stairs into his room.  One of those tin alarm clocks that seemingly everyone in Portia had was sitting on table near his bed and he set an alarm for two hours from now -- he knew if he wasn't careful with how long he slept now he wouldn't sleep properly tonight.

As he kicked off his boots he wondered what this Elizabeth was like - hopefully language and dialects hadn't changed too much in 300 years, and he did sincerely hope it hadn't been too soul wrenching to wake to a completely different world.  The more he tried to think about how that might feel the less he could picture it, and rather than get himself worked up over it he fell into bed and tried to empty his mind -- he could theorize and think all he wanted when he was actually rested enough TO think.

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

It was nearly a month after finding Elizabeth before Arlo actually got to speak to her.

Work in the ruins was still ongoing -- each time they opened a new door or found a new floor they found more remains; they were up to 96 skeletons so far and assumed they were only going to find more the further in they went. Gale had marked out an area along the city wall across from Sophia's farm as the place for the mass grave they'd need, and was merely waiting to hear how many bodies were going into it before he commissioned the gravestone.  

The facility was one giant maze and Higgins and Selene were both working overtime to keep churning out electrical systems to handle things short-term while they continued to search for where the power source in the lower level had been; Selene was convinced that if they could find where it was, even if it was depleted, they could use that as a main focal point to work from instead of having dozens of smaller power devices scattered everywhere.

As usual on the mornings after finishing the overnight watch Arlo came in to town for breakfast at Django's and then was returning to his room to sleep when he found Dr. Xu, Phyllis, and Elizabeth outside the clinic; the woman had a cane in hand - it was made of metal tubing with a rubber-padded handle, and was painted a pastel orange color, and was flanked by Xu and Phyllis as she took a few hesitant steps beyond the door.  She was in a heavy coat that hung open and Arlo could see a soft yellow sweater and a colorful shawl beneath it and had on a pair of cargo pants and a pair of work boots with thick soles with her hair brushed back from her face and gathered at her neck with a wide black barette.

The woman's bright blue eyes were sizing him up as he came into view, and when Xu noticed him he waved him over.  "Arlo, would you care to meet to Eli?"

"You're Arlo?" Elizabeth asked as he came over.  "I'm told you're the one who hauled me out of the ruins.  I owe you one."

"Not at all - protecting Portia and her residents is my job, no one owes me for anything," he said, coming to a stop a few feet away.

She moved the cane to her left hand and offered her now-free right hand.  "Elizabeth Summers.  Call me Eli."

He shook the offered hand.  "Pleased to meet you, finally.  It's good to see you're on your feet."

"Technically, yes," she said, smiling faintly.  "It's going to be awhile before I'm back to normal.  I haven't been this thin since I was in high school."

He wasn't entirely sure what a high school was beyond some sort of educational institute but nodded all the same.  "Take it one day at a time.  There's no sense in rushing a recovery."

"No sense and no means to."  She shifted the cane back to her right hand.  "I know the first thing I need to do though is get a full accounting of what happened: how you found me, how you got me out, and what that facility looks like and where it is.  I also need to get in there ASAP."

"I can provide all that, no problem."  Arlo looked to Xu as he spoke and the doctor was silently shaking his head at him.  "-I think it may be awhile before we can take you in, though."

"I don't care if you have to strap me to your back and carry me in, I NEED to get in there.  The little bit the good doctor here told me has me concerned about the facility's power source -- if it's thermal we should be fine, but if it's nuclear I absolutely need to get in there and check on it."

"...nuclear?" Arlo repeated, brows furrowing.  "What's that?"

"Nothing good, if it's damaged."

"What happens if it's...nuclear?" Phyllis broke in.  She said 'nuclear' slowly, like she was testing out how the word sounded on her tongue.

Eli paused, biting her lower lip again.  "...right, so I want to preface this with the fact that I'm not meaning to cause a panic, but nuclear is...uh... I don't even know how to explain it clearly since it seems like so much technology has been lost - I don't think you'll have even the basic terminology knowledge needed to grasp it.  So, basically - nuclear is a power source that, if stable, lasts for hundreds of years.  The reactor - the central source of the nuclear power - can meltdown and explode to varying degrees of severity if its been damaged and the explosion can poison the land and any person the debris - called 'fallout' - comes in contact with.  Even a small explosion could render this entire region unlivable for generations."

Arlo's eyes widened at that - like they needed something ELSE to worry about.  "It's that dangerous?"

"Technically, yes.  Depends on IF the reactor was damaged and HOW it was damaged - we built these things to last but knew it wasn't impossible for them to suffer some sort of damage or failure. They all have hundreds of layers of safety measures in place to help prevent a meltdown but Dr. Xu mentioned the warning you got about auxiliary power which means the main reactor isn't powering what's left in that place -- if we're lucky it'll just be the condu- the uh, the wires, I mean - have lost connection somewhere and the reactor is fine.  That's best case scenario.  The worst case is the reactor was damaged, the aux power being out means the safety measures won't be active, and we might have a volatile situation on hand."  After that Eli huffed out a heavy sigh.   "I'm praying that Fate says it's just the wiring or that the place is deep enough it won't matter either way but I won't know until I get in there."  

Arlo looked wordlessly to Xu and Phyllis; Phyllis looked sick to her stomach and Xu seemed deep in thought.  He looked back to Eli.  "-how strong do you feel right now?"

"Tired, a little noodly in the knees, but considering the circumstances it could be worse.  This is something that can't wait."

Arlo nodded, and turned his attention to Xu again.  "I don't think we have a choice, Dr. Xu.  We can ride her out there on horseback then I can carry her down again, or Remington or Sam could.  Is Eli cleared to leave the clinic yet?"

"Truthfully I don't want her out of my care just yet.  But if things could get that dire then you're right that we have no choice."  Xu rubbed his chin.  "Let's see how you manage walking today - how long your legs can hold you.  We'll use that as a baseline and keep a close eye on you tomorrow to make sure you don't push yourself beyond your limits."

Eli gave Xu a small smile.  "I know where my limits used to be and where they are now, doctor.  And those lines change when lives are on the line."

Xu nodded, seemingly satisfied or at least not against the sentiment.  "All right then.  Tomorrow morning we'll make the trek regardless, I guess."  His gaze moved over to the small stables that was attached to the side of the Corps building.  "Am I correct to assume that the Civil Corps will provide the horse?"

"She can ride either Spacer or Arrow.  Teddy doesn't really tolerate anyone but Sam on his back."

"Seems we have a plan then."  Xu turned slightly and placed a gentle hand on Phyllis's and Eli's shoulders.  "Phyllis, go ahead with the planned exercises for today.  I need to check in with the mayor and update him on Eli's progress, and I'll also let him know about our little...um.  Problem."

"Of course, Dr. Xu," Phyllis said with a nod.  She stepped around him and gestured for Eli to follow her, and as the two slowly made their way toward the plaza Arlo heard a quiet "let me know if you need to stop" from her before they were both too far away to overhear.

Xu watched them a moment then scratched at his head.  "She's handling this far better than I was expecting.  It actually has me MORE worried than I was before."

"Howso?"

The doctor watched the two women for a few moments before responding.  "She's shown remarkable resilience in accepting that she's 300 years in the future as well as--" he stopped abruptly, then continued on.  "It hardly seemed to faze her, in fact.  I don't like that one bit...I feel as though she's suppressing her reaction, maybe supplanting it with her concern over the facility and reactor.  I'd much rather see some sort of remorse, or fear, or...or, really, any reaction other than calm acceptance."  After a pause he looked to Arlo.  "It sounds silly to want to see proof of some sort of emotional pain - no one should want to see someone else suffering - but in this case I worry about the underlying effect on her mental health if she really is refusing to consider or accept how she may actually be feeling about all this."

Arlo mulled that over for a moment; it was never a good thing to bottle things up for too long - such thoughts eventually ate away at you until you exploded like a shaken drink.  "I understand, I think.  And maybe she's just not ready to really let it sink in.  The reactor could just be a convenient thing to think about instead."

Xu sighed, nodding, then shook himself and fixed Arlo with a firm look.  "I trust I don't need to impress upon you the importance of not sharing this with anyone?"

"Of course not.  I've not said a word to anyone, nor will I."

"Good.  I realize I really shouldn't be sharing her details with anyone, as they are quite personal, but being as you directly brought her into my care I feel your perspective may help my own.  Especially since you personally saw where she was, what she came out of, and what it's like down in that facility.  Your recounting of all of that has given me some insight on how to handle her trauma when it comes to the surface, and I do appreciate it."

Arlo nodded.  "It's not a problem at all, and I'll admit hearing how she's doing means I worry less.  I can't imagine what it might've been like down in that tube...it'd be awful if she was aware the entire time she was down there."

"True...but then again, maybe that's why she isn't traumatized now.   She'd have had 300 years to consider her situation and come to terms with it."

"Maybe, but could you imagine the boredom once she had?"

With a quiet chuckle Xu took a few steps away.  "I should get going.  Tomorrow morning will come a lot sooner than it seems."

Arlo gave him a little wave as Xu turned to follow after Phyllis and Eli.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 3 #Arlo #Sam #Remington #Dr. Xu #Higgins #Builder #Eli #Phyllis #My Time at Portia

[littlesugarwords]

Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Stolen Her”

Title: Stolen Her Characters: Cabin Crew Summary: After Clementine is kidnapped by Carver, the cabin group sets off to save her. Author's Note: Okay I’m honestly really happy with this one yaaaay!! Requested By: legoryan support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

“We don’t have time for this!” Luke wailed, strapping his axe to his back as he continued to stuff supplies into a backpack.

Rebecca planted her hand on her hips, skeptical as she watched how frantic Luke was. Carlos was helping, far more collected than Luke. Alvin, standing at Rebecca’s side, pat her shoulder and slid past her to assist them. “Time for what? A serious conversation?”

Luke scoffed, standing upright and abandoning his focus from packing his bag. “Time for this debate, Rebecca.”

“Don’t act like I’m speaking nonsense. All I’m asking is why we should be running after Carver right now.”

“Because he kidnapped a child? A child that trusted us?”

Rebecca shifted from foot to foot, skeptical as Carlos and Alvin continued to get their supplies ready. Sarah sat in the background, hands folded in her lap, watching with confused concern. “She hasn’t been with us for very long.”

Rebecca crossed her arms, gaze unwavering and daring. “She hasn’t been with us for very long. How do we know if we can trust her? She stole from us. We barely know her.” She threw her arms down, frustrated. “Hell, maybe she’s been working with Carver this whole time and this is just some elaborate trap to get us back there.”

“You know that’s not the case.”

“No, Luke, I don’t.”

Hours previous, when Clementine had answered the door, her intention was to scare off the stranger — the person she didn't know at the time was Carver — for Sarah. What she didn’t expect was for Carver to see a fresh target — a new member of his team — and rip her from the premises before any of the cabin crew members returned.

Sarah said she hadn’t heard a lot. A struggle, a muffled cry, then silence. By the time she came downstairs, what she presumed to be over an hour later, the door was hanging open and the both of them were both gone.

In their immediate moments returning to the cabin, seeing how frantic Sarah was, everyone knew something was wrong. Luke felt his stomach drop, watching as Carlos ran to his daughter, holding her in his arms, softly asking her what startled her so badly.

“Carver.” She’d whispered.

Then, glancing around the room, noticing that Clementine was gone, Luke’s heart stopped altogether. “Where’s Clementine?” He’d asked. Sarah cried harder.

Luke immediately began packing his bag.

Luke slapped down his backpack from where he was lifting it into his arms, frustrated with Rebecca’s nihilist view. “Fine, Rebecca. Fine. If you don’t care to get Clementine back, fine. But we do care, and we are.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Rebecca spat back. “She’s a child. I care about her well-being. All I’m saying is that, child or not, we’re risking a lot on someone we barely know or trust.”

“You’ve barely talked to her.” Luke snapped back, tossing his bag over one of his shoulders, at his wits end with the direction of their conversation. “You know nothing about her, or her life, or what she’s been through. I have. I do know.”

“What can you possibly know about her that’s changed your perception?” Rebecca snapped back, stepping forward. Alvin, off to the side, watched with tense shoulders. “She’s only been here for a few days.”

“I know that she’s watched every parental figure she’s ever had die before her eyes.” Luke spat, watching the anger wash from Rebecca’s face. “I know she’s needed to kill some of them because they asked her too; because they didn’t want to turn.” He adjusted his bag, breath haggard and angry. “I know that she’s lost every friend she’s ever had to this apocalypse. She has every reason to lose every ounce of trust she’s ever had in humans, but she still trusted me enough to tell me that.”

Rebecca stood, eyes wide and vacant — pale, shocked, and scared.

Taking her silence as an answer, Luke adjusted his backpack and huffed. “So, we’re going to get her back because she matters to us.”

Luke didn’t hesitate before storming out of the cabin, jaw tight and shoulders locked, his grip firmly planted on his bag strap. He could hear shuffling footsteps behind him, and knew that Carlos and Alvin were trotting up behind him. Turning around to speak with his team, Luke froze.

Nick was coming up from behind Alvin, adjusting the knife he was shoving into his pocket. Behind them, standing in the front doorway, stood Rebecca and Sarah. Rebecca had a hand resting against her stomach, another propped against the frame for balance. Sarah, only slightly ahead of her, hesitantly watched them depart.

Luke stood tense, surveying the woman in the door frame, adjusting his backpack in frustration and turning ahead. “Let’s do this.” He said to his team. He didn’t have time to be sidetracked. Getting Clementine back was his sole focus, and they couldn’t afford to let that waver.

They were moving based on assumption. None of them knew the specific directions to Carver’s camp, but Luke did know the path Carver took with Clementine. The footstep indents on the lawn and the tire marks on the outskirts of the property were all the direction they needed. Luke was determined to find their camp again. There was no ‘what if they didn’t find her.’ They needed to. And they were going to. To Luke, there was no other way.

After walking for upwards of an hour, he heard it. Luke, leading the bunch, stuck his arm out behind him to stop the others. “Do you hear that?” In their silence, they heard the distant rumbling of carts, vehicles, and muffled voices.

Luke, drawing closer to the noise, buried himself in the brush of the forest rather than wandering the open, tattered path. Then, weeding their way through the trees, they all spotted it: the warehouse.

But what now?

“The guards shift.” Alvin said, creeping forward and settling a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Every half an hour they swap shifts. There are always blind spots, but nobody ever wanted to point it out to Carver. He set the schedule. We didn’t wanna get punished for talking back.”

Alvin, much to the glee of his group, had been a guard during their time in Carver’s. Thanks to his position, they’d been able to escape the first time. Now, it was what they were going to use to help Clementine get out.

Alvin took to the front of the group, adjusting his glasses, watching the formation of the guards. “Okay,” he sighed. “That guard on the ground. Once he heads inside that garage, there’s a 10-minute gap. We can use that to get inside.”

The plan they’d cracked was straightforward and simple: Nick was going to hang back with Carlos, watching to ensure that Alvin and Luke got inside.

Alvin was going to approach, speak with the guards on the context of him being a desperate ex-coworker — not a threat — and would create a distraction for long enough that Luke could sneak in undetected. “I’ll ask about if conditions have improved. If it would be worth it to come back. They won’t whistle blow on me being there if I’m approaching like that.”

If one or both of them were captured, or if Alvin’s plan backfired, Nick would go in. Carlos was chosen to hang back and avoid the warehouse altogether, keeping watch and reporting back to the cabin if necessary.

He was the doctor, after all, even if it felt selfish to admit it.

The four watched in silence, Nick shifting nervously and Carlos cracking his fingers to act as a distraction. The, suddenly, the garage door began to open. Alvin placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder, squeezing. “Now. Get ready to move. Now.”

However, much to their gratitude, Alvin’s plan worked. The two crept toward the warehouse’s front — Luke sneaking along the wall and Alvin approaching the now-open garage door — and they slid in smoothly.

“Alvin?”

“Hey Carl,” Alvin’s voice sounded from around the corner Luke was ducked behind. He could feel his heart slam against his chest as they spoke. “Long time no see.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” A different voice offered. “Does Carver know you’re here? If he doesn’t--”

“No no no,” Alvin said. Luke could hear the shifting of weaponry. He didn’t need to look around the corner to know they had their guns aimed at him. “There’s no need to tell Carver. I’m actually here to ask a question about, well,” he gave a sheepish laugh, “coming back.”

Weapons shifted again. “Seriously?” The first voice said.

Alvin hesitated. “It’s embarrassing, but I’m really struggling out there. Me and Rebecca both. We’re desperate.” He hesitated again, and Luke had to admit, he was really selling his acting job. “And I wanted to come, just me, and ask about what returning would look like.”

Knowing that Alvin had his half of the plan covered, Luke continued deeper into the warehouse lot, slipping in through a side door and holding his breath as he pulled the door closed behind him.

The moment the door clicked shut, he was in a back storage unit of the warehouse. It was dimly lit — the only light coming in from the tiny upper windows — and all the lights were off. The moment the door shut, he heard a sound. A gasp — a soft and faint one — and heard a shift from the other end of the room.

“Hello?” Luke asked, voice daringly above a whisper.

He was met with silence. All he could hear were the sounds of his footsteps creeping deeper into the room and the shaky, ragged breathing of whoever else was there with him. After a moment, there was a voice. “Luke?”

Luke looked around, squinting, searching for where the voice was coming from. “Clem? Yes, Clem. Yes, it’s me. It’s Luke.”

Luke froze, hearing shifting emerge from one of the far corners of the room. Emerging from a stack of boxes, from where she’d been cowering and hiding, was Clementine. She was shaking, her clothing torn and her cheeks red.

Luke felt a rush air sweep out of his lungs. He lunged forward, arms open. “Clementine--” The end of the word was muffled as he accepted her into his arms, his lips hitting her shoulder as he crouched to her level and felt how bad she’d been shaking. “Oh my God. Thank God.”

He pulled away, holding her shoulders between his palms, studying her, and froze. He lifted a hand to one of her cheeks, gingerly brushing his fingers over a dark section. The moment he got close, she flinched away. “Don’t.” She said softly.

Listening, Luke pulled away. He scanned the way she covered it with her palm.

It was a bruise. There was no doubt about it.

Swallowing hard, and feeling his shoulder tense, he studied her. “Who did that to you?”

Clementine dropped her hand. There was no sense in hiding it. Her eyes met his for only a moment before they wavered away. “Carver.” She said softly.

Luke turned away, frustrated and rubbing his palms on his jeans. “That shit bag.” If he was in the room, he would’ve decked him. Hell, if Clementine’s safety wasn't on the line — if he wasn’t responsible for bringing her back to the cabin - he would’ve hunted the man down and beaten him half to death.

He needed to turn his focus elsewhere. He was going to get too worked up and angry if he didn't.

His stare drifted back to Clementine, watching how she hesitantly studied him. Then, sweeping forward again, he placed his hands on her arms. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay?”

Clementine nodded, gaze unwavering and determined. She was a strong kid — Luke had known that from day one — and he knew there was no way some asshole like Carver was going to deter her independence and strength.

Squeezing her shoulders, Luke stood and turned for the door. He settled his hand against the cool metal, checked his watch, and turned to the child again. “Okay, Nick and Carlos are waiting for us outside the perimeter. Alvin is distracting the guards, and we have about 4 minutes until the guards switch over and we’re out of time.”

Clementine gulped, but her stance didn’t change. “So, where are we going?”

Luke hesitated, chewing his lower lip, mentally formulating a map and game plan. “Straight ahead. Woods border almost every angle of this warehouse. If we run straight ahead, we can work our way around and back to the group.”

Clementine nodded, shifting her focus to the door, set and determined. “Ready?”

Luke nodded. “If you are.”

Clem nodded too.

Then, taking a deep breath, Luke swung the door open and the two took off. They didn’t hear yelling, or gunshots, or even the scrambling of guards trying to collect their weapons. They were home free. They’d done it. They’d made it.

Once they hit the woods, they barely stopped. They paused to make sure nobody had spotted them — that nobody was after them — and kept going.

It hadn’t taken them long to run the perimeter of the warehouse, and by the time they were on the brink of approaching Nick and Carlos, Nick darted to meet them halfway. “Luke, Clem, holy shit.” Luke reached out, bringing Luke into a thankful, panicked hug. “Thank fuck. You guys were starting to worry me.”

“Where’s Alvin?” Carlos asked, a few paces away, trying to keep his voice down.

Luke panted, a hand on his chest, collecting his breath so he could answer. But, just as he was readying himself to, Alvin scurried up behind them. “Let’s go. We have borrowed time we can’t waste.”

“Borrowed time?” Nick asked, watching fearfully as the rest of his group darted forward, starting through the thick brush in the general direction of the cabin.

Alvin sputtered out a cough. “The guards didn’t know I came with anyone. They thought it was just me. They let me leave without notifying Carver, but that means we don’t have a lot of time to get out of here without drawing suspicion.”

As they wandered through the brush, Luke turned, spotting Clementine struggling and coming up the rear of the group. He couldn’t say he blamed her — she’d been through the ringer. She was exhausted and terrified, out of breath and sore.

“Clem,” he whispered softly. “Come here.” In one fluid, albeit tired motion, Luke knelt down and swept the girl onto his back before. “Just take it easy, okay?” He frowned. “You’ve done enough today.”

Clementine nodded, thankfully resting her head against his warm shoulder, allowing her exhaustion to sweep over her.

Carlos, casting a glance over his shoulder to see what the commotion was about, smiled. He found it sweet how much Luke had connected to Clementine in the short amount of time she’d been with them. They had no blood connection but, then watching him carrying the exhausted child on his back, Carlos could’ve sworn they’d always been siblings.

Truthfully, Luke felt the same. That was why he would never hesitate on searching for her. No matter what.

Then, feeling her cheek relax deeper into his shoulder, his frown shifted to a smile. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

#thatglitterygeek fanfictions #the walking dead game #twdg #twdgs2 #the walking dead game season 2 #twdg clementine #twdg clem #twdg luke #twdg carlos #twdg rebecca #twdg alvin #twdg sarah #twdg nick #luke and clem #clem and luke #luke and clementine #clementine and luke #telltale the walking dead #telltale the walking dead game #telltale games #telltale #skybound entertainment #skybound #skybound games #fanfic #fanfiction

[toloveawarlord]

Spooktober Day 14 “We aren’t all bad”

You can find my masterlist in my bio!

Yeah, I’m still planning on finishing these hopefully before the end of november

Have Isaac’s child Corinne at 8 years old! ^_^

The taps of her feet against the cobblestones were drowned out by the chatter and music of the festival happening around her. The streets packed with humans and vampires alike, illuminated by the streetlights and blood moon shining upon their forms. The one night a year where both species intermingled without the secret of vampires being threatened. Harvest Festivals were full of strange happenings.

The crowd gathered around had been the catalyst for the predicament that the young girl found herself in. Separated due to her attention being drawn away by the sparkling lanterns and the sweet scents wafting from the stores open late. A shuffle of the people and the Corinne had lost sight of the adults.

Anxiety of being utterly alone settled upon her, prompting the girl to seek a place with no hoards around. That paired with the naivety of being a child drove Corinne to find safety in an alley between two streets. The opportune place to watch for her father or any other that she trusted.

Yet, without the knowledge of an adult, or the innate fear of an unknown darkened alley, had landed her in a bad situation.

Red eyes reflecting the inhuman in the man crawling across the grimy stones. Primal movements. A vampire ravaged with the thirst for blood, preying on whatever crossed his path first.

Corinne had witnessed blood lust before, almost experienced it herself. That dryness in her throat that scratched with each swallow, unable to be quenched by any liquid but rouge. A week but incredibly heavy body. The equivalent to the human body of going too long without food or water.

A blood thirsty vampire risked exposing their secret.

The man eyed the humans passing behind her, uninterested as her smell marked her his kind.

“Hey mister, you can’t drink human blood in the open.” Corinne took one shaky step toward him. Unlike those at the mansion, this man wouldn’t hold her in the same regards, making him extremely dangerous.

He could hardly be interested in her. Though her blood would assist in quenching his thirst, her slight form only holding a fraction of the liquid that he hungered so much for. All that came from his mouth was a low, guttural growl, warning her to stay away.

Little hands lifted as if reaching out to comfort the starving vampire. “We can find you some rogue-”

Irritating. Her voice scratching at his mind as nails on a chalkboard. Shrill. His neck twisted, eyes fluttering with the pain pulsing behind them. Worse, and worse. All that he could focus on was the blood pumping through the veins of pale skin.

The girl stood between him and the humans he desperately sought. Without a single thought, he lunged at her, fangs barred.

Corinne barely let out a half a scream before a familiar figure appeared in front of her, sword drawn. “N-Napoleon!” Her small hands reaching up to grab onto his free hand.

The soldier cast a glance over his shoulder at her. “Are you hurt, Corinne?” It had taken too long to locate her. If he’d been a second later, who knows what might have happened to her.

Her small head shook, silver curls bouncing around. “I’m alright-”

“Goodness me. Look at the crass manners of a lesser vampire.”

“It’s quite unseemly. Really, they are the lowest of creatures. Dirtying the vampire race.”

“A lot that should be kept away from society, that’s for sure.”

A group of pure bloods had gathered at the entrance to the alley, effectively blocking the view of any humans around, and simultaneously judging the situation at hand. Snooty features adorned with beautiful make up and attire.

“We-We aren’t all bad,” Corinne whispered, saddened by how they spoke about her family. Big jade irises rose to plead with the women silently. She was caught between both worlds, considered a lesser vampire because of her father’s blood, yet none could hardly tell with her pure blood features of her mother.

One female let out a soft gasp, sharp eyes scanning the frightened the child. “Your features are that of a pure blood, yet your smell is quite different. Come with us, child. You need not be around these lesser vampires.”

She’d fully decided to take the young vampire with her, despite being wary that she didn’t have the pure blood air about her. Bony fingers wrapped around Corinne’s wrist, tugging her away from Napoleon.

“That girl is under my protection. Release her immediately-” Napoleon could hardly keep the starved vampire at bay and chase after Corinne at the same time. If his guard dropped, the man would surely make a run for it. More harm could come.

The woman gave a scoff, a wicked glare given to the vampire she believed to be beneath her. “I hardly see it fit to leave her with the likes of you.” Her words spat with distaste for him.

Corinne dug her heels down, body leaned back to cause the woman to struggle to force her along. “Let me go, please! I want to stay with Napoleon-”

“Corinne!” Her name spoken with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Isaac stumbled upon the scene after searching the crowd for her. He surveyed the situation, unsure of how his daughter had ended up in this situation.

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Another lesser. They’re out in droves tonight, I see.” Her grip loosened enough to allow the girl the ability to pull free. “Come back here, child!”

Her steps echoed through the alleyway until she rested safely in her father’s arms. Little body trembling from the event. “Papa! I got lost.” Her fingers fiddled with his tie, finding anything to distract herself.

Isaac brushed his hand through her curls to give comfort. “You’re safe now. That’s all that matters.” He’d pieced together what had occurred in the alley. What he couldn’t fathom was the pure-blooded woman’s attempt to take Corinne with her and her sharp glare pointed at him, making the physicist incredibly uncomfortable.

“You’re the father? That would explain her mixed scent. She should be with the pure bloods, not some lesser miscreant.” The woman refused to pass by the panting vampire still starved for blood.

“Corinne is not going anywhere but home,” Isaac said, arms tightening around her slight form as a sign of his promise. Pure bloods typically hated all other kinds of vampires, so the interest in a half-breed made little sense. 

Before the situation could escalate, a new voice cut through the alley. “Allow me to give my sincerest apologies, mademoiselles, for interrupting your lovely evening,” Comet swiftly walked to them with a graceful smile. With him, came Theo, Jean, and Sebastian. 

The ladies straightened at the sight of him, infatuated smiles growing on their lips. Greetings were exchanged, positions swapped, and a hushed escape. The trio disappearing into the crowd before the women realized.

Napoleon trailed ahead, making a path for Isaac to follow with Corinne. The crowd thinned as they moved further from the inner city. “I’ll find us a carriage to take us back to the mansion.” He’d only taken one step before halting from his cape being tugged on.

“Don’t leave,” Corinne’s soft voice barely audible above the chatter behind them. Many things could bring the girl to tears. Butterflies getting trampled on, lost kittens or puppies, to name only a few. She feared small things getting hurt because of a big world, and that included herself.

Though both Isaac and Napoleon were vampires of equal strength, the soldiers experience in fighting had brought the title of protector upon him. Something both Newtons relied on.

Her words from the alley came back to his mind. We aren’t all bad. A declaration made to defend him, not herself. She’d been frightened so, yet incredibly strong in that situation and made an effort to support the ones she cared for. A contrary child. One worth more than any treasure given to the once emperor.

“Yes, I supposed it would be safer to stay together,” Napoleon replied, a reassuring smile growing on his features. If it were to protect the two he cared for most, he would do most anything.

#31 days of spooktober #spooktober day 14 #yo i'm gonna finish these #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #isaac newton #Napoleon Bonaparte #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp napoleon #corinne newton