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writersmorgue · 3 years

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I'm in a nightmare but I didn't fall asleep

TW: noncon, vague description of said noncon, kidnapping, non-consensual oral sex

17+ to interact

“That’s TWO out of three sports festivals you lost, Shouto. I’m beyond disappointed in you.” Endeavor’s booming voice leaves nothing to the imagination as it echoes across the barren stadium halls.

Well, almost barren.

Sero cringes from his hiding place behind the nearest wall, making eye contact with Bakugo next to him whose brows are furrowed in concentration.

“You know what, I’m fucking done. You’re going to give me one thing, and it’s going to be the future number one hero. A hero who will beat All Might, something you will NEVER do. My faith in you has been destroyed. I’ll tell them to retrieve you on Friday.”

Shouto makes a choked noise, and the two boys look at each other in confusion.

“Father please, you don’t mean-”

“I absolutely do. I gave you three chances Shouto! You’ve wasted my time and money, and now you’re going to be used like the useless bitch you are. Only serving me one purpose.”

“Please I can do better! Please don’t take me I promise I’ll make it worth your resources- AGH!” There’s a strangled shout as Endeavor grabs his daughter’s long ponytail in his flaming fist, charring the white hair

“You will do no such thing, and don’t even try escaping, I’ll hire more men if I have to. You will be useful.” There’s a scraping sound as Shouto drags her feet as she’s pulled away.

A shrill scream lets out, quickly cut off as Endeavor’s scorching palm slams over his daughter’s mouth with a sharp shut up.

Sero turns to Bakugo, gulping, as he raises a pointed thumb towards the exiting duo, “Uh, that didn’t sound good.”

Bakugo purses his lips, “No, it did not.”

Endeavor shoves Shouto into the van head first and she tumbles in, careful to mind the several men surrounding her as she skids to a stop.

“I don’t care how you go about this, you’re all suitable donors. Get her pregnant in a timely manner. Do what you want with her when the baby is born.”

Shouto whimpers as the door is slammed shut, locking her in complete darkness with a group of unfamiliar voices as they discuss who gets to fuck her first.

Her right ankle is grabbed as the van begins to move, the first man growls as she tries to pull away, and his grip tightens.

She screams, hoping someone will hear her. Her mouth burns from her father’s hand.

“NO!!! LET GO! I DON’T WANT IT!” The sound of zippers undoing around her head is what finally sets her off.

Her flame erupts, burning half of her competition shirt, save for her specially made sports bra, and singes the second-place medal strap around her neck. The disc clanks on the metal floor and the men around her shout with frustration.

“He said we could do what we want-” One of them grunts, patting some embers off of his shirt, “Someone subdue the bitch.”

Her head is slammed down onto the metal floor, and she fades away.

“Did-” Sero’s voice cracks, and he doesn’t continue.

“Yup.” Bakugo nods, explosions popping behind him as they sprint towards the speeding van, “He just facilitated the rape of a fucking minor.”

“A MINOR!?” Sero screeches, fumbling his tape as it catches on a tree branch, launching him forward “That’s not just a fucking minor, Katsuki, that’s our fucking FRIEND.”

“SHUT UP!!” Bakugo yells right back, “I’m sort of busy trying to save her ass. Obviously, since that van isn’t a puddle she can’t get out on her own. Probably quirk proof or some shit, knowing the asshole.”

“I’m calling Aizawa.” Sero reaches one hand back to his pocket to get his phone.

Bakugo grunts something that sounds like an affirmation.

A few moments later Aizawa’s gruff voice is asking who the hell is calling him at this hour.

“Aizawa-sensei!!”

“What, Sero.”

“So um, Todoroki! She, um, her dad!!-”

Bakugo growls and snatches the phone, blasting himself with just his left arm. Sero would be impressed if he wasn’t screaming internally as the van takes a sharp left, causing them to slow.

“IcyHot has been kidnapped by her dad.”

“Bakugo, I’m pretty sure that’s called having a child legally, give Sero his pho-”

“No you don’t fucking understand!!” Bakugo shouts, “We watched him drag her away and shove her in a fucking van with a bunch of assholes. He told them to rape her Aizawa. She’s been fucking kidnapped.”

“I- you’re joking.” Aizawa’s slight increase in background noise indicates he’s finally taking action, but the goddamn attitude sets Bakugo the fuck off.

“WHY WOULD I JOKE ABOUT THIS YOU OLD BASTARD!!”

“No, you’re right, sorry. I’m getting Nedzu and sending Midoriya your way.”

“NOT FUCKING DEKU”

“Bakugo Katsuki you will shut up and help your classmate with whoever I send to you or you will be expelled.”

“FUCKIN’- whatever old man. We’re just passing the corner store.”

He shuts the phone off before throwing it carelessly at Sero.

“Bakugo!!” Sero whines as he misses the catch and watches his phone shatter on the pavement.

“Not my fault you can’t catch.” Bakugo retorts, speeding up and launching himself at the van.

Sero follows close behind.

They hear a rhythmic thumping from the inside, Bakugo pales.

“Fuck I think they’re-”

“All the more reason we should blow this fucking van open!” Sero shouts into the wind, shooting tape onto the door handle and yanking the entire thing off.

He pulls the nearest guy out by his leg and throws him onto the median.

“C’mon dipshits!! Quit-”

All fight drains out of him, instead replaced with blinding fury, when he sees Shouto.

Practice uniform already torn to shreds, she’s bleeding profusely from somewhere on her head right onto the cold metal floor of the moving van. Surrounded by several other grown-ass men, all staring at Bakugo like deer in headlights, she’s knocked out cold at their feet.

“You bASTARDS!!” He screeches, storming into the van and grabbing Shouto’s limp body into his arms, thankfully her pants seem to be relatively unharmed, it’s the glistening by her slack mouth that has Katsuki concerned.

The men seem to be too shocked to retaliate, but one of them stands, seeming to prepare some sort of excuse. Sero is faster.

Hanta whips through the vehicle, grabbing both Katsuki and Shouto with his tape, flipping the van onto its side in the process, and carrying all three of them out the other door.

The human scum scatter onto the pavement as the students roll, relatively unharmed, into a parking lot. It’s somewhere in those few seconds when Aizawa arrives, followed by a somewhat feral Midoriya.

“Where’s Shouto,” He picks one of the men up by their collar, throwing him violently back onto the asphalt when he sees his three friends laying in a heap a couple dozen yards away.

“SHOUTO!” He calls, practically teleporting to their location and digging through Katsuki and Sero to reach her.

“Jeez we’re fine too, Deku, thanks for wondering.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, pulling Shouto’s limp body into his arms, “Is she- what happened?”

Sero starts nervously explaining, wringing his hands as he looks back and forth between Shouto’s unconscious form and Izuku’s increasingly rage-filled eyes.

He WHAT?!” Green lightning crackles over his skin, stopped abruptly with a firm hand from Aizawa on his shoulder.

Aizawa walks over and crouches, pulling a swab out of his scarf, “Had Momo make me one,” He grunts at Sero’s confused expression.

He sighs, reaching over to Shouto’s face and swiping it around her lips, “Unfortunately I figured we’d need it.” He tucks it into a plastic bag and stuffs both into his suit pocket.

Katsuki huffs, an unreadable expression fixed on his face as he stares down at the girl.

“They got her pretty good,” He reaches a hand out and tucks a strand of hair over, so Aizawa can get a look at her head injury, “probably tried to put up a fight.”

The teacher nods, “and you heard her father approve this- kidnapping?”

“Yes sir,” Sero speaks up, and Midoriya growls.

“I fuckin’ knew he was bad news,” Katsuki scoffs, “always draggin’ her around and shit. Probably paid for them to fuck her up too. Said he wanted her knocked up.”

“He,” Sero’s voice is strained, “he said she was a disappointment that he was giving up on her. She knows that’s not true- right?”

Aizawa hums, pulling out a bandage to wrap Shouto’s head, “well you’ll just have to show her.”

The boys make eye contact, and Izuku pulls her closer.

“Yeah,” Katsuki agrees, “we will.”

Shouto wakes up screaming, clawing at her face as blood begins to seep down her cheeks.

“Todoroki wait!!! Todoroki you’re okay! They’re gone!

Hands pry her bloodied nails away and her energy is sucked away as a kiss is pressed to her cheek.

“You kids I swear, never a dull moment.” Recovery girl tuts.

She passes out again.

The next time is much calmer, warm light pools around her eyelids and she cracks them open, reaching a hand up to rub the sleep out of them. But in doing so she jostles the hand that had been resting on her own.

“Todoroki?” Sero whispers, raising his head up slowly, eyes widening, “Todoroki!!”

He lunges forward, encasing Shouto in a bear hug.

“Oi, hands off, she’s in a hospital bed for fuck’s sake tape face.”

“Right,” Sero smiles sheepishly, pulling back, “right sorry.

“It’s okay,” Shouto admits, because she really has no idea why there’s any need to be careful, “I’m fine.”

“Oh?” Katsuki’s raised eyebrows suggest she said something wrong, “You call a nasty concussion and almost clawing your own eyes out fucking fine? Guess we have different definitions of the word.”

Shouto frowns, “I don’t remember that last bit.”

Her head hurts slightly, but she feels like she would remember something like that even through a concussion.

She tracks her memory back to before, but she can’t quite seem to remember-

The van, the men, the smell, the sound as he shoved his-

“Shouto?”

She snaps her head up, “Huh?”

“Sorry, you were quiet for a bit,” Midoriya rests a hand on her blanketed leg and rubs it back and forth, “god nervous. You alright?”

They’re all staring at her now.

“Does he know I’m here?”

All three sets of eyes darken, but it’s Midoriya who speaks up.

“He doesn’t matter. Aizawa has custody of you as of now. Your pitiful excuse for a sperm donor has been taken into police custody for aiding in the rape and kidnapping of a minor.”

Shouto gets a distant look in her eye, “Oh” is all she says.

“They didn’t get that far,” Sero gestures to her bandaged torso, where one of the men had tried to take off her uniform pants.

“But they still-” She begins, suddenly nauseous.

“Yeah, they did. And that bastard has been taken into custody just like the rest of em’, he’s not getting out for awhile, especially since the DNA samples matched.” Bakugo informs her.

“Oh,” Shouto hums absently, “there were samples.”

“Shouto, you with us?” Midroriya squeezes her ankle gently, but she doesn’t respond, “Everything’s gonna be alright now. You can rest.”

And she does.

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candy-and-writing · 4 years

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My Resolutions

Synopsis: You and Steve have a strained relationship. He takes it upon himself to fix that

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, slight Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Dark! Steve Rogers, NON-CON, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), slight breeding kink if you squint

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Tony Stark's New Year's party was extravagant. Men in expensive suits and black ties, women wearing elegant party gowns and jewelry with more diamonds than a Tiffany's store. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, the lights soft and bright, matching the ambiance of the orchestra. Long, white-clothed tables lined the walls, covered in overpriced shrimp and finger foods, a large chocolate fountain that stood entirely too high next to various fruits and other snacks. Servers walked around the ballroom carrying trays of champagne and little plates of desserts, though most guests already held a cocktail or glass from the bar.

You stood next to Natasha as she conversed with Clint and Wanda, something about Budapest? You were too busy gawking at the lavish scene around you. The Avengers cleaned up nice, the boys wearing expensive tuxes and black bow ties while Natasha, you, and Wanda had gone dress shopping. Nat looked stunning in her long black dress, thin straps that crossed along her back and her short red hair pinned to the side. Wanda wore a dark red dress that had a high neckline and sleeves that passed her elbows, styling her hair in a messily beautiful high ponytail and dark makeup.

You wore a silky sapphire blue gown, the neckline low and cut to show much more cleavage than you were comfortable with, the thin straps were the only thing to cover your back. The skirt of your gown was loose and flowy around your legs, stopping at your toes. Your hair was curled down around your shoulders, dangling earrings tickling your jawline. Your makeup was simple, eyeliner and some fake eyelashes Natasha helped you out with and some red lipstick. To your surprise, it contrasted beautifully with your dress.

You left Natasha to navigate your way through the crowd, wanting to reach the bar. Once there, you ordered a cocktail and sat down, sighing. You picked at your painted fingernails, twisting a ring around your finger.

"Hey, doll."

You looked up to find Bucky leaning against the bar, smiling at you. You smiled back. The bartender handed you your drink, you thanked him before taking a hefty sip.

"Hey."

"Having fun?"

You shrugged, stirring your straw in your drink. "Parties make me anxious, there's always too much that could happen when nothing ever does. All these strangers—does Tony even know all these people?"

Bucky sat beside you, sighing like your dad does when he goes to sit down and watch the football game. "Sounds fair, given what we do for a living. You have a right to be paranoid."

"I'm not paranoid," you glared. "I'm being cautious."

Bucky chuckled, ordering a double whiskey before looking back at you. "You wanna join Steve and I? Get your mind off things?"

You sighed, playing with your straw for a moment before nodding. "Yeah."

He guided you to the middle of the room, dodging past people until he found Steve and Sam. Sam greeted you with a nod and a smile, looking you up and down quickly before he met your eyes. Steve gave you a tense nod, quickly continuing his conversation with Sam. You scoffed before taking a drink, feeling stupid for thinking Steve would greet you at all. He's had such a stick up his ass the last few months, barely acknowledging you and only talking to you when he had to, but he was more than happy to ignore you. You've caught him glaring at you from the other side of the room multiple times, like your presence itself just annoyed him. You had no idea what you did to piss the supersoldier off, but you've learned to just stay out of his way.

Although you would admit, with his long hair, short beard, and his tight tux, he looked ruggedly handsome. He was a stark contrast to the man he once was when you first joined. He would at least talk to you then.

You shook your head, taking a sip of your cocktail. You had no idea why it bothered you so much—he didn't like you and you didn't like him, you just couldn't understand why. He was nice, kind to everyone else, to complete strangers, so why did he look at you like you were a bug he squashed on his shoe? And it wasn't like you actually hated him, despite your nonexisting conversations and the spiteful glares, you were quite fond of the super-soldier.

One cocktail turned into two, then three, then two more glasses of champagne when you spotted a server walking near you. Bucky was too busy conversing with Steve and Sam about his days back in the 107th to notice your tipsy daze, laughing as Sam made a snarky remark about his old age.

It was well past midnight now, the guests from the party had slowly disappeared, leaving the Avengers to finish off the eggnog and bacon-wrapped shrimp. You sat on the edge of the couch next to Wanda, nursing your third—was it your third? Or was it your fourth? No, no, definitely your third—cocktail Natasha had made you. Across from you sat Steve and Bucky; Bucky had taken his jacket off while Steve left his on, instead unknotting his bow tie. At first glance, you'd expect Bucky to be the one giving you the cold shoulder, not America's Golden Boy. But Bucky was probably your closest friend. You grumbled, taking another drink.

"Alright, let's go around the room!" Tony clapped and rubbed his hands together before pointing at Bruce. "Banner! New Year's Resolution, go!"

Bruce mumbled for a moment before sighing, saying something about finishing his big project with Dr. Cho. Clint went next, saying he wanted to be there when his daughter graduated middle school. Natasha wanted to do some volunteer work, maybe get a cat, something she could take care of.

"Cap, you're up!"

Steve sighed, holding his beer down at his lap. "Uh—"

"To get laid," Sam interjected, snickering. Bucky laughed as Steve's eyes widened.

"Seriously?" you nearly choked on your drink. "I can't believe that's one of your new year's resolutions."

Steve cleared his throat. "It's not." He gave you a dangerous glare, which you failed to see on account of you finishing off your cocktail. "I was going to say—before I was interrupted—I want to make the world a better place, this time next year I want it to be better."

You shrugged, reaching for a bottle of champagne. "Eh, whatever you say, Captain."

"What about you?" he asked, all but snarling. "What's your resolution?"

You poured yourself a glass from the bottle of some fancy Krug Blanc de Blanc champagne, it was crisp and rich and the bubbles tickled down your throat. "Don't got one," you said plainly. "I think they're dumb."

Tony 'boo'd. You stuck your tongue out at him.

"Aw, come on," Clint groaned. "Think of one thing you want to do this year."

You sighed. "Fine. I. . . I guess I don't want to die?"

"There ya go! That's the spirit!"

You chuckled, shaking your head as you sip your drink. Wanda went next—said she wanted to do something to help Sokovia since they're still rebuilding the city. Bucky said he just wanted to live his life with his friends. Corny bastard.

An hour passed, maybe more, before you started to get cold. The cool air danced along your bare back and down your spine. F.R.I.D.A.Y had started playing Christmas music and Natasha dragged you up. You protested, begging her to let you go. She had your hands in hers, swaying you back and forth until you were begrudgingly moving on your own until your hips were moving on your own accord.

Then you fell. Tripped over your dress.

Bucky stood up, rushing over to you as Natasha tried to give you her hand but you waved them off. "I'm fine, jeez, back off."

"Maybe you should lay off the drinks," Nat said.

"Yeah, how many have you had?" Bucky frowned at you.

"What are you, my mom?" you growled, reluctantly taking Bucky's hand as he pulled you up a little too fast. You clutched onto him, dizzy as you struggled to steady yourself. Suddenly, there was another pair of hands on you, rough as they held you tightly.

"I'll take care of her," Steve's voice said.

"Steve—" Bucky was interrupted.

"I said I got her." He pulled you out of Bucky's grasp, dragging you out of the room.

"Go easy on her, Cap," you heard Tony say softly, "you know this time of year is hard for her."

That made both you and Steve scowl. It is not, you thought as Steve pulled you along, your small feet struggling to keep up with his fast steps. Your head spun, dizzy as Steve stopped at a door. He shoved you in, wobbling and stumbling over your heels. You turned to him, about to tell him to watch it when you stopped. His expression was stone cold, almost feral. He stalked up to you as you shuffled back, circling until you bumped up against a table. Surprised, you looked behind you, running your hand along the dark mahogany. That wasn't your table. Looking around your surroundings, you saw that you weren't in your room at all.

"Steve," you say, your voice shaky. "Where are we?"

His snarl turned into a cold grin and he chuckled at your stupidity. "Are you that drunk or are you just that stupid?" he belittled. "Take a good guess."

You knew where you were, and his snarky remark had you biting your tongue you hold in your dry sarcasm. You rolled your eyes and tried to push past him, but he shoved you back until you hit your head, laying over the table.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," he growled, hand pressing down on your chest.

"Ow! What the fuck, Steve!"

"You wanna know what my new year's resolution really is?" Steve had pushed himself up against you, noses close to touching. You could smell the beer he had on his breath.

"Steve, seriously, this isn't funny—"

"It's you."

He forced himself in between your thighs, your dress riding up to your knees as you kicked your feet out, flailing as Steve pushed against you, pinning your wrists on either side of your head.

"Steve, stop," you begged. "Please, you're scaring me."

"Good," he huffed. "You should be, maybe it'll sober you up."

"Steve—"

"Shut up!" You flinched, turning your head away from his. "God, I am so sick of you and your little games. Playing innocent when you're walking around in your skin-tight uniform, flirting with Bucky, ignoring me. You brought this on yourself, sweetheart."

You're the one ignoring me, you jackass.

"Steve, I—" you took a deep breath, trying to play your cards right. "I never meant to make you think—"

"I don't care," Steve sneered. He let go of your wrists, his hands rubbing up along your thighs. You pushed against his chest, trying to get him off you, but he brought his hand back and slapped you across the cheek, looking at you like you were an annoying fly. You cried out, head snapping to the side as Steve pinched your inner thigh. He pushed your dress up over your hips, your black lacy thong on full display.

"Jesus," Steve breathed. "You wore this out in public? You're lucky some other man didn't try to fuck you earlier."

"Steve!" you cried, frightened. Your heart was pounding in your ears so fast you thought you were going to pass out. One of his hands went to your throat, squeezing just enough to make it hard to breathe.

"I said, 'shut up.' God, you really need a lesson in obedience."

With that, he roughly grabbed the hem of your underwear and pulled, tearing the garment in two so hard it left burn marks on your waist. You let out a strained cry, squeezing your eyes shut as tears slipped past your lashes. Your head spun in a drunken daze as Steve licked his fingers before he rubbed against your clit, causing you to jolt. You let out a strained, garbled 'no'. Steve only gripped your throat tighter.

"It's alright, sweetheart," Steve cooed, his voice suddenly softer, "I can make it feel good for you. Just relax."

You clawed at the hand wrapped around your throat, trying to tear him away, mouthing voiceless pleas.

Stop.

Please.

Steve.

"Just relax, sweetheart, it'll feel good. I promise." He continued to rub circles over your clit, softly and then harder at random intervals. You mewled, squirming in his grasp, your back arching as he dipped his finger into your channel, spreading your juices around. His now slick finger stroking your sensitive bud as you let out a strangled moan. "That's it, doll, just let yourself feel it."

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a conquering and controlling kiss, tongue delving into your mouth. You were helpless as his lips moved to your jaw, inserting a second finger into you. You gasped as Steve started pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly, finger fucking you until you were a whimpering mess.

"It feel good, doll?" Steve asked, lips dangerously close to yours. The pads of his fingers brushed against a certain spot inside you and you cried out, hips jolting. "You like that?"

You felt the stretch as Steve forced a third finger into you, your legs numb and heavy. Your head spun, and you thought for sure you were going to puke as he sped up, the coil in your lower belly tightening as his lips latch onto your clit. You gasped, a scream getting stuck in your lungs as he sucked on your clit in the most beautiful way.

"St—stop. . . Steve, St—Steve, please—"

A few more licks was all it took before the coil in your stomach snapped. You let out a coarse scream, the breath getting sucked out of your lungs. Your thighs shook as your back arched painfully, your pussy convulsing against Steve's fingers until you collapsed, lax on the table under Steve.

"Jesus, sweetheart." Steve pulled his fingers from your channel, causing you to whimper. "That was beautiful. You're so fucking beautiful."

His words barely reached your ears, sounding muddled and far away like you were under water. There was a loud pounding, your heartbeat ringing in your ears, strumming through your body. You didn't realize Steve had unzipped his dress pants, shuffling them down past his knees, stroking himself slowly. He let out a soft sigh, lining himself up between your legs.

Your eyes widened. "Wait—Steve, don't—!" Steve used his hand to cover your mouth, silencing you.

"It's alright, sweetheart," Steve cooed, "just relax. I'll make it feel good."

He pushed into you slowly, his thick cock stretching your walls. You screamed into his hand, legs clenching in an attempt to stop him.

"I said 'relax', doll. This is happening, just accept it, it'll feel so much better."

You closed your eyes, willing your muscles to unwind as Steve thrust into you, groaning.

"Fuck, you're tight," he growled. "I know you're not a virgin, you fucked Bucky just last week."

Your eyes flew open wide at the candor remark. You mumbled something incoherent to him against his hand, which he chuckled at.

"Oh, please, you honestly think I'm that clueless?" Steve scoffed. "The missions you two are always taking together, the incessant flirting, the sneaking around like you're a bunch of teenagers. No, I knew, and—frankly—I'm a little offended. I had to find out from Natasha?" He punctuated her name with a sharp thrust of his hips. "You must have one hell of a spell on him that he didn't come running to me after it happened. . . . How did it happen? I'm curious."

He moved his hand away from your mouth, when you didn't answer immediately he snapped his hips up into you.

"Steve—"

"Tell me," he said, pulling out slowly, just to the tip, then pushing back in inch by inch.

"Okay!" you screeched, "Okay! We—we were in Germany, a couple months back, for the human trafficking intel S.H.I.E.L.D had. The mission was a bust, they knew we were coming, they killed all the girls. One of them—ngh—she wasn't even old enough to start her period yet. Bucky took it really hard—"

"I don't care," Steve growled, bucking his hips. "Get to it.”

"He drank himself to sleep that night," you whimpered. "I had to wake him up a few hours later because he was screaming. When—when he calmed down, I tried to talk to him, but he kissed me. I—I told him we shouldn't—"

"Because you didn't want to or because he was upset—oh, fuck."

"I—" you preened. "I didn't want to do anything he would regret, when he told me there wouldn't be anything to regret, I just went with it."

"You let him fuck you," Steve corrected.

"Yeah," you forced out, even though that wasn't the truth. It had been more than that. It wasn't just a quick fuck, it was something both of you needed to get past that. You needed to forget and Bucky needed reassurance. You had let him take control that night, something he needed, while you laid back and let him be the one in control over you. You trusted him completely, and that man had pulled more orgasms from you than anyone ever could.

"Do you know why that is?" Steve whispered, his voice low. His hips kept their slow pace, his dick ever so slowly sliding in and out of your cunt. When you shook your head, he gave you a devilish smile. "It's because you're a slut. And he thought you were easy."

Steve pushed your legs up to your chest, effectively bending you in half as he fucked into you faster, his balls slapping against your skin as you screamed, hands clawing at the table below you. His cock was driving into you deeply, hitting a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. He was longer than Bucky, albeit Bucky was thicker. You bit back a moan, refusing to give Steve that kind of satisfaction.

Steve clicked his tongue. "Come on, doll, don't be like that." His hand dipped down to where your body's were conjoined, his fingers rubbing softly against your clit.

"Fuck!" you gasped, your back arching. You let out a string of moans, whining as his hand stayed stuck to your clit.

"I need you to come for me, baby, one more time. Can you do that?" His hot breath grazed against your ear. "Fuck—come on my cock, sweetheart."

You bucked your hips wildly, trying to shake him off you, the sensation all too familiar yet unwelcome. "Steve—stop, please, I can't—"

"You can, sweetheart, I know you can. Just a little bit more." He rubbed small, fast circles against your clit until you came with a scream, Steve clamping his hand over your mouth as he came, silencing your overstimulated cries.

He thrust deep into you, spilling his seed in your pussy. He groaned, held himself still for a moment, then pulled out. You whimpered, feeling his cock leave your abused channel, cum flowing freely from your cunt. Steve's cum. You never thought you could feel so disgusted.

Steve looked at where the cum was seeping out of you, scooping it up and pushing it back in with to fingers. You gasped, trying to squirm away from Steve's fingers.

"You're going to stop fucking Bucky," Steve ordered, his voice low. "Things are going to be strictly professional between you two from now on, Understand?"

Your eyes widened. You couldn't do that Bucky, he didn't deserve to be kicked to the curb like that.

"I said, 'do you understand?'"

The sharpness in his voice had you nodding, suddenly feeling like a kid trapped with the monster from under the bed.

Steve smiled. "Good."

He released your face, and you took that as your cue to get up. When you propped yourself up on your elbows, Steve pushed you back down. You gave him a quizzical look, he gave you a dark grin on return.

"You didn't think we were done, did you, sweetheart?"

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424 notes · View notes

hoaryoldbitch · 4 years

Text

certain as the sun

Sansa hates Castle Black. She loves being reunited with Jon, more than she could have imagined, but the men here make her uncomfortable. She thinks Brienne shares her discomfort.

The wildlings are strange and loud and overwhelming, but it's the men of the Night's Watch who scare her the most, and not just because of what some of them did to Jon. She can see the way they look at her, both them and some of the wildlings. She's seen those greedy gazes before, and it scares her. The fact that she can tell that some of the men's hunger is mixed with fear only makes it worse. She tries to stay as far away from them as possible.

There are a couple of exceptions though. Tormund seems to have taken a liking to her, and not in the same way as the other men have. He respects her. It would appear he's warmed to her because of her bond with Ghost, a fact that has made most of the men wary of her. And he was equally impressed by the way she handled Jon that first time. He's taken to calling her Lucky Lady Red, Tamer of Wolves. It brings a blush to Sansa's cheeks when he uses that moniker for her.

But it's Satin she likes the most. He's sweet and gentle, and perfectly courteous, and Sansa believes he loves Jon. Most of the men seem to have little respect for him. One of them warned her to stay away from him on her second day here, whispering that he used to be a whore back in Oldtown.

They don't tell her to her face that some of them believe that he was also Jon's whore, but Brienne heard a group of builders grumbling about it. They don't seem to have the same reservations around her that they do around Sansa. Even Brienne wasn't completely honest with her about what she'd heard. Sansa had to pull it out of her. Apparently they were disgruntled that the Lord Commander wasn't satisfied with his man whore and his Wildling Princess, that he wanted another woman to warm his bed, while they were all freezing their balls off. There was also some speculation whether he is bedding Brienne, too, but they all seemed to agree that he was "fucking the pretty redhead."

Sansa decided to ignore their gossip for now. It's not the worst thing people have said about her behind her back. She hasn't met Val the Wildling Princess yet, and Tormund told her she's not a princess at all, that it is just the kneelers who call her that. The men call her a great beauty, and that does make Sansa wonder whether it's true that Jon bedded her before he was murdered.

She tugs her cloak closer around her as she crosses the courtyard and pulls her hood over her hair, smiling as Satin appears and starts in her direction, until she sees the panic on his face.

"My Lady!" he calls out from afar. "My Lady! We need you!"

Sansa clasps her throat. Jon. No, Satin is coming from the wrong direction. "What happened?"

"There were visitors, Northmen, two brothers. They wanted to see the Wildling Princess. They tried to steal her, and she slit the oldest one's throat."

Sansa gasps. Just the night before, Tormund gave her a knife, warning her she might have to use it if one of the men tried to steal her. She didn't really understand what he meant by stealing, so she asked him to explain it to her, and he did.

"Why would two Northmen try to steal a Wildling Princess?" she asks Satin as she hurries after him, following him back to where he came from.

"It must be because of King Stannis."

"Stannis Baratheon?"

"He declared that the man who weds her will become Lord of Winterfell when he takes it from the Boltons."

Rage flares in Sansa's chest. Winterfell does not belong to Stannis to give away to whomever he likes.

When they arrive at the scene of the skirmish, Tormund is nose to nose with a black brother. A man in rich, black clothing, embellished with bronze adornments is trying to attack a tall and beautiful blonde in white furs, but he is being held back by several other wildlings. The body is still bleeding out into the snow and all around them are more men of the watch and wildlings, and Sansa can tell a fight is about to break out.

She takes a deep breath and tilts her chin up. I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell, she reminds herself. This is the North. People will listen to me. Satin came to her, after all, didn't he?

"Who can explain to me what is happening here?" she calls out, praying her voice will not waver.

The man in black and bronze spits into the snow, but when he sees all the others around him halt whatever it is they're doing and take a deferential step back, he acknowledges her with a nod. Val crosses her arms in front of her chest and cocks her head as she studies Sansa, who decides to ignore her.

What happened, my lord, pray tell?" she asks the visitor. She recognizes the horse sigil on his cloak now.

"The savage woman murdered my brother!" he fumes.

"I was told you were trying to steal the Wildling Princess," she points out. "Do you deny it, Lord... Ryswell?"

The man's eyes widen, but he squares his shoulders. "I do not, my lady."

She looks around to find all eyes on her. "Well, it appears the Princess didn't wish to be stolen." Val laughs when she says that, and Sansa tries to keep her face stern. "And as far as I am concerned, every woman has a right to defend herself."

"I demand compensation!" the Ryswell lord bristles. "And I want what was promised. The woman, and Winterfell. It's what I deserve."

"Lord Rickard?" she guesses.

"Roose," he corrects her.

She lets her hood slip down her hair. "I am Sansa of House Stark, and Winterfell belongs to me, Lord Roose. You don't deserve anything."

Reluctantly, but with a hint of fear in his eyes, Roose falls to his knees. "My Lady!" he exclaims. "I thought you were dead!"

"Satin, Tormund," she says, staring down at him. "Throw him into one of the ice cells, before he gets it into his head to try to steal me as well."

Val is not the only one to laugh this time, but Roose leaps to his feet again and glares at her. "Stark bitch! Wildling whore!" he bites at her. "You're as bad as that bastard brother of yours!" He spits again, and it lands on Sansa's chin.

The men around her move as one, but the flash of black that appears out of nowhere is quicker than all of them. Roose Ryswell is lifted into the air by one strong hand that wraps around his throat, and Jon snarls at him. Both the wildlings and the black brothers retreat, some of them running away without looking back.

Tormund and Satin approach Jon, and Val pulls Sansa away with an arm around her shoulders, wiping the spit from her chin with the sleeve of her fur coat. Roose Ryswell's face is turning purple, his hands clawing at the one around his throat as his dangling feet start to spasm, but Satin and Tormund can't get Jon to release him. He only growls and snaps his teeth at them.

Sansa steps out of Val's embrace and orders the two men aside with a hand on their arms.

"Jon," she whispers, curling her fingers around his free wrist. His head jerks around, and she almost flinches at the sight of him. His fury has twisted his features into a feral mask that hardly resembles the strong, sweet face she knows, and his eyes are black pools of burning rage. Her breath hitches and it feels as if her heart is trying to leap out of her chest.

"Jon, you're killing him," she tells him, but he doesn't respond.

She remembers how her song soothed him on the day they were reunited, but she can't recall the words to any of the songs she's ever learned right now. She wishes she was strong enough to make him release Ryswell, pick him up and lay him down in his bed, where he would be her sweet wolf again.

"My featherbed is deep and soft, and there I'll lay you down," she starts singing. She takes Jon's hand and places it over her cheek, leaning into his touch as she sings.

"I'll always keep you warm and safe, and guard you with my sword."

Jon blinks, and Roose Ryswell drops to the ground in a miserable heap. Jon turns to her, and then his hands are on her shoulder and the small of her back, pulling her into his arms. His body is still pulsing with rage, but there is no fear in her anymore.

She presses her lips to his throat and starts humming again. Eventually his breathing evens out and he starts stroking her hair.

"Safe?" he asks her.

"Safe," she confirms, turning her head to press her cheek to his collarbone. Val is staring at them with wide blue-grey eyes and an odd quirk of a smile on her lips.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fic #my writing #series: tale as old as time #tw: violence

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narrators-journal · 3 years

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The most dangerous game

I know I’ve been hella dead, but I return with my usual! Stano smut! I dunno why I adore writing these two so much, but I guess I’m attached, so yeah. Ya’ll get content.

CW: Predator/prey vibes, Xeno gets chased but there’s no real big acknowledgement of it.

It was likely because Xeno had developed a persistently wonky sleep schedule that he got so many night time jobs. That, he supposed, was why he was once again out at night hunting another Vampire, despite having told his boss of his run-in with a particularly pretty vampire. However, at the moment, Xeno somewhat wished he was dealing with Stan instead. At least with him he could rely on his need to flirt and toy with him to give him away. But no, the scientist wasn't hunting Stanley, but instead a completely different vampire who was proving his dislike for hunting the blood sucking monsters. Taking advantage of how dark the night was, the human's weaker vision, and whatever ninja techniques he had learned from the internet, the young vampire had hidden annoyingly well in the thick blanket of shadows and clutter on the streets. So, the white-haired college graduate was poking around at every rock and thicket of grass or bushes along the sidewalk before the boiling irritation in his veins got to be too much and he let out a mix of a groan and a scream like a tea pot. Stomping over to one of the few flickering street lights on the road, the hunter stood in the light and dug out his knife, then used it to slash at his stomach to fill the air with the alluring scent of fresh blood. With a pained hiss and the new wet feeling of blood dripping sluggishly down his pale skin, the trap was set, and all the hunter had to do was wait for the shallow cut to work its magic. Which, didn't take long. All Xeno had time to do was get one of his metal stakes from his pocket and extend it, then he was set upon by the vampiric ninja-wannabe. However, despite his skill at stealth, the vampire was young in both a human and vampire sense. Freshly turned at a young age, he'd become a problem because he had yet to grow out of his pubescent hormones quite yet, and giving him a predatory draw and increased strength had only encouraged him to turn hard into the bad boy persona. Sadly, being a new vampire wasn't all improvements. It also meant an increased hunger and little control of your newfound strength. Which is what had led the young man to be targetted by the monster hunter association, and swiftly wiped out by a stake through the throat via Xeno Wingfield. With a grunt, the monster hunter threw the freshly dead young man to the sidewalk, wincing at the burning and itching sting bending down to yank the stake from his throat brought to his stomach. For a moment or so, he felt bad for the creature. He'd been young, and he'd let his newfound powers obviously go to his head after a lifetime diet of anime and movies, the silver haired hunter could understand his over excitement, but he also had little to no patience for dumbasses who couldn't register that they weren't in Naruto. So, his sympathy was brief, and he was soon just dragging the young creature's corpse into some bushes and calling the cleaning crew to come collect him. Then. He spoke. "God damn, Doll. You're quite attractive when you're being lethal." Stan hummed, hopping down from his hiding spot in a nearby tree and giving the hunter a charming smile that he refused to admit brought a little heat to his face. "Oh, so you're just gonna become a full blown stalker now? Did you follow me from my house, or was this another 'coincidental' run-in." Xeno's words dripped with sarcasm and venom, but the vampire simply rolled his glacial blue eyes, "Actually, I'm here because I smelled fresh blood," At the mention of fresh blood, the scientist glanced down at his work shirt, spotting the tiny stain of blood his cut had left, "Oh." He inwardly winced at how disappointed he sounded, but tried to recover with a sniff, "I had trouble luring the bastard out. It was quite the shock for me to find out that not every vampire would want to chase me down and prowl around my house for the entire fucking night." Stan simply snorted, fishing out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one before he spoke again, "Nah, that's just my thing, doll," "Quit calling me doll! You have my name now, fucking quit." The vampire put his hands up in mock surrender, though his smirk didn't falter under the scientist's withering glare. For a moment, they simply stood in the cool night's darkness, the hunter with his arms crossed and dark eyes narrowed, and the vampire returning his malicious look with his own nonchalant, half-lidded one while he breathed whispy smoke from his dark mouth. Both men seemed to dare the other to say something or do anything, each looking for an excuse to make some sort of contact until the smaller male spoke again, "Are you expecting me to run away? Because I told you the first time we met, I'm not likely to do that," He huffed, but Stan simply shrugged, "I'm just messing with ya, doesn't matter to me if you run or not." He grinned more at the lightning fast moment of irritation on Xeno's face, but the hunter schooled his facial features back into their usual disdain-filled glare, only broiling with frustration on the inside. He hated this man's relaxed demeanor. He was a monster hunter, the tall, hypnotically pretty predator should be avoiding him at all costs. Yet here he was, needling at him as if he couldn't end him just as quickly as he had the younger blood sucker. Okay, well, not as quickly. Stanley had a good four inches on the monster hunter at least, and had a body that had been frozen at the prime of his life, toned and pruned like an artfully shaped shrub through the years into a gorgeous, powerful example of why humans were the apex predators of the world. Or, well, they were, but with his change into the more monstrous his status as the perfect predator had only increased. Stan was perfectly built to hunt humans. Not only did he have a supernatural magnetic beauty to him, but he'd been human, so he knew how humans behave first hand. He was a nightmarish wet dream. Xeno gave his head a good shake to banish those thoughts from his mind when he realized he was looking the vampire over with the hunger of a sugar baby sizing up their next piggy bank. "Hey, Xeno," Stan hummed, but the hunter refused to look back at the man, which he simply took as a greenlight to continue, "you wanna play our little game tonight?" The hunter snorted in response, staring off into the darkness while his cheeks cooled, "I thought you were only here to bother me, not play a game of fucked up tag," He said calmly, only looked back at the man when he heard him walking closer, only stopping when he was about two feet away, maybe within reach, a grin on his pretty face, "Well, I thought it'd be a bit more polite to offer that rather than just asking if I could drink your blood outright." he reasoned, amused at the edge of poutiness that he seemed to sniff out through the veil of aloof indifference the hunter spoke with. "No thanks to either offer, I don't want to be chased tonight." Xeno sniffed in response, simply adding a thicker layer of ill temper to cover how excited he was at the thought of being pursued a second time. The first time had, admittedly, given him a thrill, but he wasn't ready to voice such to the annoying vampire in front of him. However, Stan seemed to have picked up on his kryptonite from that first round, "But aren't you curious to see what happens when you add the scent of blood to the mix?" The purr in the man's voice annoyed Xeno immensely, but the thought of maybe learning just how sensitive vampire instincts were, and how quickly one would succumb to them. Obviously young vampires are more prone to being controlled by their need to feed, but Stanley isn't a new vampire, that curious voice mused, already setting Xeno on a very likely stupid and dangerous path, It'd be immensely helpful to know just how easy it is to bring out those base urges in him. If he's going to follow you around it's best to know what to avoid so he doesn't go feral. It further encouraged, stoking the flames of the scientist's natural curiosity until he hummed, "I suppose it would be useful for the association to know exactly what triggers a vampire to go into a frenzy of some sort. Fine." The vampire grinned at that, "You do know that I can't promise my feeding instinct is the only one that'll come to the surface," he pointed out, making Xeno blink and raise an eyebrow at him, "What? Why would any other instinct come into play?" turning red as Stan laughed, "Well, in simple terms, I find you too attractive to promise that when I catch you I'd only want to drink your blood~" Xeno's face warmed up more at that, getting huffy and tripping over his words in his rush to snap at him. "You can have a five minute head start, just like last time," he simply assured, "Just need a bit of blood, because your original scratch has closed," He laughed more when Xeno pulled up his shirt to see that his shallow cut from earlier had in fact begun to heal, no longer bleeding and instead beginning to scab over. The hunter only responded with a glare at that point as he plucked his knife from the sidewalk where he'd dropped it and wiped it off before leaving another cut along his stomach, this one a bit deeper than the first, but not enough to linger for more than a day or two. With that, Stan gave him a charming smile that showed his extending fangs, his blue eyes already getting a hungry gleam to them. So, without further conversation, Xeno took off down the street. The cuts on his stomach stung and itched more from his running, but he pressed on. His main concern was regulating his breathing and energy so that he could get as far away from the vampire as he could in his small window of time. Naturally, his plan wasn't to just run in a straight line and wait to be caught, not only would that likely be dangerous, as a vampire in a feeding frenzy was much more violent, but was less likely to fulfill the goal of bringing those deadly instincts to the surface at all. So, instead, he sought out other people, a crowded area, maybe a shop, that way it wasn't as easy for the predator to catch up to him. This is insanely stupid, that voice of reason finally spoke up, not only am I playing with fire by instigating an instinctual reaction, but I am woefully under prepared to run from Stan. He realized, filling his veins with icy terror when the weight of his situation fully sunk in, The first time we did this I barely survive on pure panic and him toying with me. If he really loses his shit and goes into a frenzy, I can't outrun him. The reality of the thought hurt, but it was sorely true. Despite all of his training as a monster hunter, Xeno had never been one for good cardio, namely in the stamina category. He relied on his wits and pure speed, not his ability to maintain those speedy response times or pace for long periods. but it's too late now, he reminded himself, thinking back to the way the vampire's fangs had extended so soon after he'd given him a fresh source of scent. Nope, he couldn't chicken out now. He had no choice but to stick to his plan and push the panic and fear aside. Instead, he simply focused on the route ahead of him and locked onto the light of a store further down the street, which he headed for instantly. The bright, artificial light blinded the pale scientist for a moment when he stumbled into the store, but he was swift to regain his barrings and dash down the aisles and through the crowds of night owls and whatnot that were still up at this hour. He knew that his five minutes had ended a minute or so before. Meaning he didn't have long before the vampire would be on his ass. So, thinking quickly, he swiped his hand over his wounds, then smeared the blood on his palm onto the tile flooring in an aisle. Once he had that down, Xeno ran off deeper into the store. He had very few places to hide. The bathroom was basically a dead end with no windows and only one door, he couldn't climb up the shelves or to the rafters in a timely manner, so he forwent that plan. Instead, he did the next best thing. leaving as distracting a trail as possible before bolting out one of the fire exits. "Shit," he wheezed when the fire exit triggered a screaming alarm through out the store. If Stan was in there, he'd definitely know he got out now, but that only meant the scientist had less time to think of such things. He had to focus on running. So, Xeno ignored the way his legs throbbed, and his lungs ached from gulping down the cold night air. He focused entirely on getting home, or at least to a more residential area. He could feel his limbs getting heavier, threatening more and more to give out with each step, but his grit his teeth and bared it until the threat became reality and the asphalt bit into his skin. And there he laid for a few seconds, gasping for air and scraping up as much energy as he could to push himself to his feet. As he did, he glanced back down the street, and sure enough. Stanley was coming out of the alley Xeno'd run out of, his glowing blue eyes locking onto the scientist in an instant. With another curse spat out through gritted teeth, Xeno took off again. His legs still screamed from exhaustion, and now his hands stung viciously from the fall, but he kept going. He could hear Stan closing in on him, which gave him a final burst of frantic energy that carried him to at least the park near his home before the vampire finally tackled him to the grass. The scientist could only wheeze in response, letting the vampire crush against him and push his face into his pale neck with a growl. That seemed to snap him out of the exhaustion cloud, and in an instant, Xeno was squirming and forcing himself up once again. The only way he managed it was because the vampire was taken by surprise, so he was able to slip from his grasp and scramble up, but he only got a few more steps before he had to lean against a tree for support so that his legs didn't crumble a third time. Then, just as quickly as he'd gotten away, Xeno was back in Stan's luke-warm arms, trapped against his needlessly heaving chest with his fangs hovering over his jugular once more. However, he didn't bite down. To the contrary, the feral vampire seemed to hesitate for a moment, seemingly weighing his options of what to do with the hunter before settling on a choice and swiftly switching to almost slamming him against the nearest tree. "S-Stanley!" The hunter wheezed, more surprised then anything, pushing back so that his face at least wasn't forced into the course bark and he could look back to try and see the blonde behind him. Said blonde was keeping him in place with a hand on one of his shoulders, looking Xeno in the eye and almost relishing the dawning realization that painted his pale cheeks before he used his free hand to hook into his pants and tug them down pretty roughly. Then, he was back at the man's neck, but this time he bit with his blunter teeth, sucking at the skin until Xeno's mewls and hums were pulled out and he was satisfied with the hickey he'd left. The scientist, meanwhile was a bit ashamed of how quickly he accepted the turn of events. He tried to save some face by muffling the noises bubbling in his throat, but Stan's mouth at his neck, paired with the way he ground his groin into his now-bear rear drug a few noises out. Though, it also bat back the fog of hormones and lust long enough for the hunter to realize that he was very likely to get hurt if he didn't intervene. So, he whined and reached up to tangle his fingers in Stan's messy hair, tugging at it until he finally relinquished his throat from the second hickey he was dedicated on leaving. Carefully, Xeno turned himself around with what little room he was permitted between the vampire's muscular chest and the much-less-forgiving tree. Once they were face to face though, the college graduate's brain no longer seemed to work, so, the two simply stood there, panting a bit from the chase, before he finally gave up on using words and instead simply sunk down to his knees. Keeping his eyes glued to the glowing blue pair above him as he went. Luckily enough for him, his actions at least intrigued the vampire, because he was allowed to tug his bottoms down just enough for his member to spring free, which earned him a noise somewhere between a growl and a hum. With Stan's pants down and his member now standing erect in front of him, Xeno hesitated. Should it matter if I'm any good at this sort of shit? I just need some sort of lubrication, and he shouldn't really care about anything beyond...mating, so surely he won't give a shit, right? He asked himself, puzzling over the predicament before Stan reached down to grab onto his shirt, reminding the scientist of his lack of patience. So, Xeno threw his insecurities to the wind and grabbed onto the base of the shaft so he could slip Stan's impatient member into his mouth. The vampire moaned in response, and Xeno took that as a sign that he'd bought a bit more time for himself. So, he slowed down, bobbing his head at a medium sort of pace to work himself up to taking as much of the length as he could, which, thankfully for him, was almost all of it thanks to years of speed-drinking coffee and energy drinks and eating at record speeds in college. He also found that once he actually got to moving, the embarrassment of his lack of skills faded away, and part of him simply enjoyed the groans he got out of Stan while he moved his lips up and down him at a steady pace. He simply continued to work him as much as he could until the vampire let out a little hiss and gripped onto the scientist's shirt until he pulled away and let his throbbing member go with a coy 'pop'. Suddenly, Xeno was yanked back to his feet and whirled around again to be slammed back into the tree. His pants were tugged down once more and his feet were kicked apart in rapid succession so the monster hunter only got a moment's break before Stan pushed into him. And while it hurt still, the white-haired man found that he didn't mind as much. As the vampire began thrusting into him, one hand clawing into his hip, the other on his shoulder, Xeno moaned out curses and did his best to grab onto the tree or Stan's neck to keep steady under the merciless thrusts of the blonde. It was shameful how hot his body got, but with how Stan was hitting that sweetspot within Xeno, his face back to being buried in his neck for more marks, Xeno couldn't care less. "Mmmm, fuck! ah, r-right there, please!" he plead, tangling his fingers back into Stan's hair as he moaned, giving another lewd noise when his pursuer did as he asked, swiftly learning that doing so got more needy noises from the hormone-addled hunter. With that, Xeno lost all coherency as euphoria further fogged his mind, and soon brought him to his peak with a whine of the vampire's name. Though, Stan didn't stop when Xeno came, he just kept thrusting into him, still flooding his pale body with more and more pleasure while his hot puffs of breath tickled his hickey-littered neck. The continued rough treatment was beginning to sting, but the edge of pain only seemed to bolster Xeno's pleasure back to its peak, pushing a second orgasm from him before Stan finally grew sloppy with his thrusts and soon gave one final movement before emptying himself into the hunter. After that, the monster hunter let himself melt against the tree, relying on Stanley to hold him up because he was on the verge of passing out after that night's activities. The last thing Xeno remembered was giving a thumbs up to what he assumed was the question 'are you okay'. Then, he let his exhaustion take him into dreamland.

#dr stone #drst #stanXeno #Stan x Xeno #monster au #scenario #vampire!Stan #Monster hunter!Xeno #not sfw

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the-cookie-of-doom · 3 years

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Settling Debts

Part 1

Mitch was in the middle of licking spiced rum off Katrina’s breasts when a man came bursting into the room, red-faced and panting. Mitch pulled his loaded pistol off the bed-side table a second later, leveling it at the man while Katrina quickly pulled up the sheet.

“Captain—!” The man stopped short, eyes wide and hands raised. Jones, Mitch recognized after a beat, a new member of the crew. He lowered his pistol. “Captain, you need—to come—with me,” Jones gasped through his labored breaths.

“What happened?”

“It’s Stiles.”

“What happened?” Mitch asked again, demanded. Something cold and awful wrapped around his heart, squeezing, choking him. He looked at Katrina, found the same fear on her face that he was sure was mirrored on his own.

“Please—the beach—you need to see—”

“Get out, we’re coming.”

Jones gratefully nodded and bowed out of the room, leaving Mitch and Katrina to dress in fast, tense silence.

Together, the three of them ran towards the beach. Jones was already winded from his sprint to the inn to retrieve them, so they left him lagging behind. Katrina saw Stiles first.

“Oh God, is that—”

Mitch stopped short, Katrina careening into him. Stiles was strung up before them for the whole crew to see, battered and bloody. Several men were already in the process of cutting him down, and it was only by Stiles’ agonized whimpers that Mitch knew he was even still alive.

He grabbed the nearest crewman and demanded, for the third time, “What the fuck happened?”

“It was the crew of the Ghost, sir. The new captain, he said he wanted the woman, but you keep too close an eye on her. He said—” The man cut himself off, sun-backed face going pale. Mitch shook him roughly.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, captain. He said one of your whores was as good as the other.” That awful coldness inside of Mitch threatened to swallow him whole at what those words meant for Stiles. He was swaying wildly between white-hot rage and shocked numbness when he pushed the crewman away and said, “Find Deaton.”

Mitch found his way to Stiles, though he couldn’t say how he’d done it. One moment he was standing, the next he was dropping down in the sand beside him, hands shaking as he took one of Stiles’ between his own. The only place he wasn’t afraid to touch.

Katrina held Stiles’ head on her lap, gently brushing her hand over his blood-matted hair. She was afraid to touch him, too, not wanting to aggravate his sun-ravaged skin. He must have been up there for hours, while the crew left camp in favor of finding their pleasures in town. Just has he himself had done.

I never should have left him.

“Stiles,” Mitch said softly. Stiles opened his eyes and cracked a smile. Mitch saw red as fresh blood ran down his split lips, dripping down his chin.

“‘M okay, love,” Stiles said, so obviously false it couldn’t even be called a lie.

“You’re not. But I’ve sent for Deaton.” Stiles exhaled raggedly, some of the tension leaving his body. “You’ll be alright, Stiles.”

“What are you going to do?” Katrina asked quietly, glancing around. Painfully aware that for Stiles to have been left so long to suffer, in full view of the other crews making camp on the shore, they must have been complicit.

“I’m going to kill them. Everyone that laid a hand on him. I’ll raze this entire fucking beach if I have to.”

And then Deaton was there, kindly ordering Mitch out of his way, and the sun was setting over the water, and he still hadn’t let go of Stiles’ hand, couldn’t bring himself to pull away, to leave him again.

“Go,” Katrina said softly. “I’ll stay with him.”

Four men came forward to help Deaton get Stiles to the longboats, so they could return to the ship.

“Make sure everyone is on the ship by morning,” Mitch ordered.

“But captain—we just got back, surely we can take a few days—”

“No. Any man that’s not prepared to sail by sunrise can join another fucking crew.”

Mitch found two other men that would follow his orders without question or hesitation, and set off. Night was falling fast, and he intended to ensure it was the last one the crew of the Ghost would ever see.

“Wait!” Deaton’s apprentice, Scott, scrambled into step beside him, struggling to attach a cutlass to his belt. “I’m coming with.”

“You understand what we’re doing?” Mitch asked. Scott had never had much stomach for killing; Mitch tolerated the aversion only because of his training with Deaton. If he couldn’t fight for the crew, he could at least patch them up afterwards.

Scott set his jaw with a grim look and nodded once. “They hurt Stiles,” was all he said, and it was enough.

“Fine. Try not to get yourself killed.”

***

Once the sky had fully darkened, Mitch and his men snuck into the Ghost’s camp, features darkened with soot to better blend into the shadows. Mitch’s orders had been clear and concise: leave none alive.

The first tent held four men, passed out drunk. Mitch stood above the one nearest, covered his mouth to stop a scream, and plunged a knife into his throat. A slow, wet press that made blood gush over his hand, spraying wildly when he pulled the knife free. Around him Scott and the other’s did the same, grim-faced. And so they made their way through the camp like specters, sowing death in their wake.

Eventually Mitch left to track down the captain, already suspecting who he would find. Sure enough Ronnie was waiting for him in the largest of the tents, a sword in his hand and a smirk on his face.

“Why?” was all Mitch could ask. One single word grit through his teeth.

“You’ve made a lot of enemies here, Mitch. Lot of people who don’t like the way you run things.” Ronnie stood slowly, and Mitch’s hands tightened around his blades. “Everyone’s so afraid of you. It’s about time someone put you in your place.”

“You think you can?” Mitch snarled. I will remind you why they’re right to fear me.

“I think I already have. You should really learn to take better care of the things that are precious to you.”

With an enraged shout, Mitch threw his dagger across the tent. Ronnie ducked out of the way, but it was only a distraction. Mitch followed close behind, already closing the distance between them, and brought his sword down in an arc that Ronnie barely blocked.

“I should have killed you,” Mitch hissed. Years ago, when he’d had the chance. Instead he left the bastard marooned on an island, and he’d somehow crawled his way off it and into a stolen captaincy.

“Yes, you should have.” Ronnie bashed his head against Mitch’s and kicked him back, shouting for whatever remained of his men to take up arms. There were few enough for Scott and the others to handle it, keeping them away from his own fight.

It was just as bloody and viscous as the last time they came together. Mitch knew they were evenly matched for strength and skill. He’d barely gotten away with his life last time. But this time, he wasn’t fighting for his own life; he was fighting for Stiles. He welcomed the numbness as a shield against Ronnie’s attempts to taunt him with everything he’d done to Stiles, and gave into the pure, white-hot rage, letting it guide his movements by pure instinct.

Mitch was wild, feral, tearing at Ronnie with blade and nails and teeth, grappled with him in the sand and chased him through the camp, ringing steal announcing their presence to whomever still survived.

Finally, when they were both bloody and exhausted, Mitch’s dagger locked against Ronnie’s sword between them, he made a choice. Mitch dropped his hand, screamed as the sword embedded itself in his shoulder, inches from his throat, and sank his dagger into Ronnie’s stomach.

A wet gasp was his only answer as Ronnie’s eyes went wide, dropping slowly to look between them, at the pool of blood darkening his shirt. Several long moments later his hands slipped from his sword, and the realization set in: he’d lost. Ronnie looked up at Mitch again, finally afraid.

“Did you really think,” Mitch said, voice hoarse and barely above a whisper, “I’d let this go unanswered?” Mitch twisted the blade to hear Ronnie’s strangled scream. “Or did you just think you could kill me first?” Then he wrenched it across one, two, three, four times, cutting raggedly through flesh and fat and muscle, and stepped away to watch bloody, pink entrails spill wetly onto the sand.

Mitch stood there, holding his bleeding shoulder, bloody and bruised and victorious. If only it didn’t feel so hollow.

“Captain.” It was Scott that approached, wary, hands raised and open like he was trying not to startle a wild animal. Perhaps that’s exactly what Mitch was. “Let me have a look at your shoulder.”

Mitch ignored him.

“Burn it all,” he said, staring down at the corpse at his feet.

No one moved to obey.

Killing the Ghost’s crew and captain—that could be excused. They’d come for one of their own, and Mitch rightfully retaliated. But the destruction that would be wrought with a fire—it would surely spread to other camps, to those that had no hand in it. Mitch didn’t care. He turned on his men with teeth bared and eyes blazing.

“I said burn it!” Mitch shoved past Scott with a snarl, picking up a torch and throwing it into the Captain’s tent. Slowly, silently, they followed suit, until a red-orange haze lit the beach. They made their quiet escape to the water as chaos broke out, shouts echoing into the night as the fire began to spread, and finally it was over.

Scott wrapped Mitch’s shoulder with a strip of cloth torn from his shirt to slow the bleeding until they made it to the ship, and Mitch watched the shore burn with grim satisfaction.

#cookie writes #stitch #stiles stilinski #mitch rapp #Katrina harper #the next part will be Stiles and Katrina back on the ship

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secretshinigami · 3 years

Text

An Unexpected Reencounter

Author: Daniel Funke (@danthegeek) For: @its-canon-and-im-feral Pairings/Characters: L/Light, Lawlight Ratings/Warnings: Smoking cigarettes, Slight homophobia(internalized), Slight Swearing Prompt: L and Light as renowned musicians Author’s notes: It’s the 80s Baby! L and Light reencounter each other when they are both invited to take part in the most spectacular musical event of the 20th century: Live Aid. Wordcount: 2784.

***

13th of July 1985. The day of Live Aid. L was hunched over his bathroom sink and took a deep breath. This was going to be fine. He looked into the mirror, meeting his own nervous looking expression written all over his pale face. He took another deep breath. Alright, let’s do this. L ran his finger through his messy black hair and glanced into the mirror for the last time. Baggy jeans hanging loose on his skinny frame. A black leather jacket over a white T- Shirt – his band members made him wear the leather jacket. “It’s the 80s dude, don’t you wanna look cool?” L rolled his big grey eyes that looked even darker because of the black eyeliner framing them. Yeah you look like a rock star. Strange.

L jumped when he heard his phone ringing in the hall. He hurried to pick up the call. “Hey buddy!”, a loud voice greeted L. He wanted to answer but the voice interrupted “So how excited is my favourite, favourite bass player?” L replied: “I’m fine, Eric”. “Of course you’re fine, L. It’s the biggest gig of our life. Can you even comprehend who we are gonna meet? The bands we are gonna share a stage with?” L smiled a bit at Eric’s enthusiasm. Then he frowned, remembering exactly whom he was going to share the stage with. “Yeah… I can’t comprehend, Eric.” “Well anyways buddy, we are gonna pick you up at 10 alright? Be ready. And put on some shoes, will you?” L rolled his eyes again. “Sure, Eric.”, he said and hung up. He looked down at his naked feet and sighed.

“Dylan if you don’t stop doing that—“, L said, annoyed. Dylan grinned at L and continued to spin his drumsticks around in his fingers. They were backstage now, although L did not really understand why they had to be at Wembley 5 hours early. He was mindlessly strumming around on his bass, imitating the melody of Another One Bites The Dust.

“Oi L, you think they will play that in their set?”, Nate asked. He was the lead singer and guitarist of their band. “I doubt it”, L said. “They are probably going to play more cheerful songs to animate the crowd. Like, you know, Radio Gaga or We Will Rock You.”

“Hey L, wanna bet?”, Dylan asked. He had finally stopped spinning around his drumsticks and grinned at L. “Ohhh Dylan, don’t do that”, Nate said and chuckled. “You know L has a sixth sense. You can only loose mate.”

Dylan sighed and pointed one of his drumsticks at L. “You’re right. The bastard ‘s like goddamn Sherlock Holmes.” L shrugged and continued to play on his bass guitar. “Anyways, who are you excited for, the most?”, Nate asked Dylan.

They were just as excited about Live Aid as Eric, and L had to admit that they could not be blamed for it. It was after all the biggest event that had ever been broadcasted on Television so far. A concert, that would host the most renowned musicians of the last decades. Anybody who is anybody is doing this concert.

“Okay so obviouslyMadonna”, Dylan declared, a dreamy expression in his eyes. “Obviously”, Nate repeated and cracked a smile. “And also, you know, U2”, Dylan continued. Nate nodded. In this moment, Eric joined them, as always a big smile on his face. He took a pull on his cigarette and put on a haughty expression.

“Guess where I’ve been?”, he said, looking at his three band members. Dylan rolled his eyes. “You’ve been making out with a groupie in our tour bus, am I right?” Eric blew out a wisp of smoke and laughed, obviously pleased with himself. “Anyways, what have you guys been up to?”, Eric asked and sat down with them. “We were just discussing which acts we are most excited for”, Nate said. “Oh that’s cool. Well Nate, I guess you wanna see Bowie?” “Oh Bowie is exceptional! But I’m actually more excited for KIRA’s act.”

L winced at the mention of this name but tried to remain still and unimpressed. Not one of his band members seemed to have noticed the sudden reaction of L. He stared at his bass and had clasped his fingers around it. From the outside he seemed normal, cold, a bit nervous at most. But inside, L was burning. A hot sensation burned itself through his entire body, starting from his head. He wasn’t even certain of his exact emotion. Was it rage? Embarrassment? Definitely a bit of acrimony.

“You’re right, KIRA totally rocks”, Eric agreed. “Their lead singer is so cool…”

“Quite literally”, Nate said. “I once met him backstage briefly, after a concert. I tell you, if looks could kill – his eyes have this…glistening glare.” “Oh come on, Nate. He just one of those guys who don’t wanna bother with anyone. You almost make him sound like he is evil or something. Eric and Dylan laughed.

L had followed the conversation, still feeling that storm of emotions inside him. He fetched a pack of anxiety pills out of his jeans pockets and took a couple. “Yo L, you alright mate?”, Nate asked. He looked at L a bit worried. “I’m just a bit nervous, it’s nothing. It’s still some time until sound check right?”, L asked and tried to sound casual.

“Yeah it’s like one and a half hours left”, Dylan said. “Alright.” L put his bass in its case and stood up. “Does anyone mind if I take a look around? I think I really need to stretch my legs out a little bit.” “Sure, go ahead. But please, please be on time for the sound check, yeah?”, Eric urged. “I will, don’t worry.” L tried to smile, although he wasn’t sure if he managed to make it seem genuine. Then he took off.

Light. Light Yagami. L could pull out his hair thinking about him. He leaned against the back door of the stadium and took a deep pull from his cigarette. If I were to meet this asshole ever again… He clenched his fist and tried to calm down. Somebody knocked against the door he was leaning at. L was startled and jumped back. The door opened and a young man looked at L, curiously.

“Do you mind?”, he asked and lit up a cigarette. “No, it’s alright”, L mumbled. He was not sure if he had seen this guy before. He had blond hair at shoulder length, wore a black blazer and pants. L noticed that he had been staring at the guy and quickly looked at the ground. “It’s alright, you don’t have to know me”, the guy chuckled. He offered his hand and L shook it. “I’m Deezer Dwight”, he introduced himself. “I’m L”, L said, smiling nervously. “Oh right, you’re with The Investigators, right? I gotta tell you I think it’s kind of a bummer that you aren’t gonna collaborate with The Police.” He grinned about his own joke. “Yeah, we really missed a chance there”, L said. “I’m sorry Deezer, I think I should know which band you belong to, but I haven’t seen you before.”

“That’s alright, I’m new. I just replaced the drummer of KIRA.”

Shivers were running down L’s spine. He threw his cigarette to the ground and put it out with his shoe. For once he was glad that he was not running around barefoot. “What happened to the old one”, L asked, again trying to sound casual. Deezer shrugged and sighed.

“Our lead singer didn’t get along with him anymore. He is…complicated sometimes.” “So what your lead singer says, goes?”, L inquired. “You know, Light… he has no sense of humour. He can be very cold. It’s not easy to work with him sometimes.” “I heard he could be a bit…ruthless sometimes.” Deezer laughed and lit on another cigarette. “That’s a nice way to put it. You should hear his real spicy stories. I swear you wouldn’t believe half of it.” L was intrigued. He knew at least one of these spicy stories really well. “Try me”, L said, trying to sound relaxed.

“Well some of the stories are more rumours…”, Deezer seemingly enjoyed sharing stories like this and his eyes lit up. “What I know for sure is that half of his money comes from people he sued for defamation of character. It was always about some affair he had, affairs that he denied happened. But I would put my both my hands in the fire, right here and right now that every one of these incidents happened and Light was just caring about his reputation too much. So he would threaten to press charges against those who would try to contact him after their…rendezvouses or whatever.”

L gulped and tried to process this information. “That’s… pretty messed up”, was all L could respond. But Deezer didn’t seem to mind his poor conversation skills. “Yeah, honestly it is. And I don’t even get why he cares so much what people think about him. So he does it with women and men, it’s the 80s for god’s sake. Elton does it, Freddie Mercury does it, I’m pretty sure Bowie is also in their club… like it’s alright to be… queer or whatever when you’re a rock star, you get me?” L nodded and looked at Deezer. He really did not seem to mind nor understand the fuzz about it.

“So you think Light Yagami is gay”, L asked Deezer, shoving his hands deep down his pockets. “No man he is just getting at it with everyone he finds attractive. I swear he is like all night out, every night, having someone sleeping over who then sneaks out at the break of dawn.” “Mhh.” L pressed his lips together and looked down at his feet. Well if that doesn’t feel all too familiar to you.

Suddenly Deezer jumped and they booth looked up as they heard an imperious voice calling Deezer’s name. “Oh man…”, he sighed.

“Seriously, how long is this smoke break going to take? Do you realize that we are on stage at Live Aid in two hours? Can’t I expect a little more reliability from my band members?”

Deezer and L both froze at that all too familiar voice, but because of very different reasons. “Sorry man”, Deezer whispered and threw his cigarette butt on the ground. I gotta go. It was nice meeting you! See you later maybe, good luck for your set.” He patted L’s shoulder and hurried through the backdoor.

L took his hands out of his pockets and stretched his arms above his head. Maybe it was time to go back to his band members as well. He reached for the doorknob, when once again someone tried to open the door from the opposite side. L took a step back and the door flung open.

L’s face turned white as he saw that he had just ran right into Light Yagami.

A couple seconds, nobody spoke or moved. Light looked at L, eyebrows raised. L couldn’t even determine whether Light recognized him or was just surprised to meet someone out here. He didn’t look embarrassed or guilty. L was still very pale and his big eyes stared at Light’s face.

He probably doesn’t even remember me. If he really has someone new every other night, how should he know who I was?

Light cleared his voice. He closed the door and leaned against the doorframe. “It’s you”, he said calmly. “Oh. So you do remember me”, L replied coldly. “I do. How could I forget that pretty face of yours?” Light smiled.

L pressed his lips together and took one step forward. “Don’t you dare, Light Yamagi. You know exactly what you did to me.” L felt the rage building up inside him. The humiliation.

Never call me again. I’m not a “fairy” like you. Those were his words.

“Listen, L. I’m really sorry. I was a jerk back then. But I swear, I’ve changed.” “I don’t believe you”, L simply said and came even nearer onto Light. He stared at his face, holding his breath, mesmerized by his appearance. Light Yagami was beautiful. His skin was light and flawless. His brown hair framed his handsome defined face. Light brown eyes were looking at him. He wore an open jacket with nothing underneath and white leather pants. Light kept a straight face, only looking at L without retreating. “Don’t believe me, then”, Light said calmly. The corners of his mouth twitched a little.

“It’s all just a big game for you, isn’t it Light?”, L said and glared at him. “You just like to play with people, pretend they’re something special, pretend you actually feel something for them when in reality you are not even capable of real feelings. So you push everyone away and stomp on their hearts.”

L had got himself into a rage and was breathing heavily. Light didn’t respond for a couple seconds, but he didn’t smile anymore. “Listen, L… I know I’m messed up. But you have to understand that I can’t take the risk of ruining my reputation. I had to threaten you to keep quiet about what we had. I really liked you, you know. But my career is everything to me.”

L looked at him, frowning. Light Yagami lies as soon as he opens his sweet mouth. As if that cheap apology could fool me. As much as L wanted to believe him, he could not help to still suspect him of being a notorious liar. He wanted to believe him so much. Wanted to believe he had changed.

“Will you forgive me L?”, Light asked softly and raised his hand to gently stroke across his cheek.

L felt a burning sensation rising up inside him again, only this time it was not fuelled by rage or anger. It was pure desire that poured through his body. “I–“, L stuttered and couldn’t close his mouth, “I…don’t know…” L was completely entranced by Light’s flawless features, his hot breath that he could now feel on his skin, his glowing eyes looking at L in a way that made him feel weak in his knees.

“What is it, L?”, Light asked smiling. L knew that Light was winning. He knew that Light was already in triumph, knowing that L couldn’t resist him no matter how hard he tried. L took a deep breath. “I don’t think I will…forgive you”, L breathed and took Light’s hand to put it away from his face. When he touched Light’s skin, it was like he was struck by lightning, like an electrical shock flashed right through him. He immediately let go of Light’s hand, but he couldn’t stop staring at him.

“That’s…a shame”, Light said in a low voice and casted down his eyes.

L was trembling. He was fighting every fibre in his body, because all he wanted was to diminish every distance between him and Light, to press his body against Light’s. He hesitantly took Light’s hand again and felt this overwhelming electrical sensation again. When he did that, Light looked up and smiled. At this moment, L knew that he had inevitably subjected himself to him. And Light knew that as well. He smiled, smugly, his eyes glistening with the certainty of victory.

He grabbed L by his waist and spun him around so L was pressed against the back door. He rested his hand next to L’s shoulder, pressing it against the doorframe. With the other hand, he slowly caressed L’s face. He went on to fondle with his hair and then he brought his mouth very close to L’s ear and whispered.

“Are you sure, that you don’t want to forgive me?”

L let out a moan, almost whimpering. He grabbed Light’s face and looked him in the eyes. He drew Light’s face even closer and then pressed his lips onto his own. Light sighed and buried his hands into L’s hair, messing it up even more and pulling on it as to elicit another moan. L could not believe how he could have forgot about the sweet taste of Light’s lips, the feeling of his body against his own, the irresistible smell he emanated. L never wanted to end this kiss but he needed to catch his breath. He gently pulled Light away from his face, breathing heavily and gazing at Light with his big grey eyes. Light smiled again, his lips red and slightly swollen from the kiss.

“I still don’t forgive you”, L whispered and smiled back at him.

#fanfiction #death note #submission #pairings: lawlight #ratings: teen #cw: smoking #cw: drugs #itscanonandimferal #danthegeek #Mello's Birthday Mayhem 2020

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doing-all-write · 4 years

Text

don’t be a baby pt. 3

Pairing: Billy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader discovers that Billy isn’t actually dead. Which changes everything. But also, nothing at all.

Read part 1 HERE

Read part 2 HERE

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: SMUT (only 18+ interact PLZ), swearing, blood, explosions, fighting and some SOFT FEELINGS FOLKS OH BOY.

A/N: SURPRISE! Here’s part 3 of don’t be a baby! I hope you all love this ending, I’m so happy with how it ended so please enjoy!

💖💖As always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 💖💖

“You bastard.”

The growl that came crawling out of her throat came from the basest, most animalistic part of her. Billy felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"You fucking prick." Finally wrenching her hand from his, she reached up, ripping his hood off, fully bringing Billy’s feature into the light.

Her jaw went slack, her complexion ghost white as Billy stood there. Knowing there was nothing he could say or do to make this situation better or less confusing.

"You-you-no. No. This is impossible. There was a coffin. We had a funeral. Billy. I mourned you. I am still mourning you. What the fuck-"

"One found me on the ground after that last mission. He offered me this chance and-"

She hadn't even been aware she’d been moving away from him until her back hit the wall and her legs gave out completely.

Sliding to the floor, she pulled her knees into her chest, bringing her head down to take deep gulps of air as Billy stood over her Clenching and unclenching his hands, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around her but not knowing if that would make things better or worse,

"I couldn't not take it love-(Y/N)" catching himself before he called her the old pet name, "It was the best option for me. I got a fresh start. I get to help people. It's steady work and I get to do what I love. Plus, you deserve someone better than me, it was only a matter of time before you realized it anyway..." His voice trailed off as she went stock still.

Watching the monitors, the rest of the team jockeyed around One for position as he relayed what was being said in the room like a sports commentator, "Ooo, he just went for the 'you deserve better than me so I faked my own death' route! That one never works folks. Trust me, I've tried." Five rolled her eyes as Seven snickered.

"DAMN!" Three exclaimed as the rest of the team broke out in screams as (Y/N) launched herself at Billy, fists flying and teeth bared.

He didn't think she wanted him? He hadn't even asked her what she wanted, they had never even talked about it but only because his selfish ass had gone and written the ending of their story before it had even had a chance to start. The shock drained away, to be replaced by anger. It rose through her blood stream, lighting her body up, until it reached her eyes. She knew that the look in her eyes was feral, bordering on unhinged so it brought her some small joy to see his face blanche at the sight as her (Y/E/C) eyes met his blue ones.

"You no good, lying, piece of shit, COWARD." She had tried her best to keep her voice calm but the last word scraped past her vocal cords in a roar as she launched her body at him.

The rational part of her brain knew she wasn’t thinking straight but the other part of her brain that had been wallowing in depression, hopelessness, anger and loss for 365 days was ready to fight.

"You promised. You said you would come back to me and you didn't. But you've been alive this whole goddamn time and now you're in front of me telling me that you didn't think I would want you? And instead of talking to me, you pretend to kill yourself?" Each word was punctuated by a well placed kick, punch or slap on Billy's person.

“I thought ghosting was bad but this takes it to a whole new LEVEL.” she shrieked as she aimed a left hook to Billy’s kidney.

Those boxing lessons paid off, she briefly thought to herself.

There was a part of Billy that had prepared himself for this kind of reaction. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself from her. He knew this was the least he deserved and honestly, he was glad she was even touching him at all.

Continuing her onslaught on Billy, she hoped she left bruises. A physical representation of the bruising he had caused on her heart over the past year. Growling, she kept up a running commentary of what exactly Billy was since he had left her behind.

Billy kept his eyes trained forward, as her fists kept up a steady rhythm on his body. Shoulders straight, hands loose at his sides, waiting for some kind of sign that she was slowing down. He risked a glance down and saw her cheeks glistening with tears.

His heart broke into a million pieces. He felt his throat tighten as the tears that he had tried to hold back, welled up in his own eyes.

She knew distantly that the wetness she felt wasn't sweat. She just prayed that Billy didn't notice them. She didn't want him to think she was weak. As that thought crossed her brain, she realized her punches were getting softer and softer. The rapid pattern she had been striking Billy with had slowed considerably.

"You son of a bitch. You promised." The last word came out in a ragged wisp as she felt the adrenaline leave her body and despondency begin to take its place.

"Don't you love me?" Billy's arms reached for her instinctually at those four words. Pulling her frame into his broad chest, he felt her crumble against him as her sobs echoed throughout the room.

"Shh, love, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know, rest now. I'm so sorry, my love." He whispered, letting his head drop down so his lips grazed her ear as he repeated his apology over and over again. She felt herself getting irritated with her own body when it gave an impulsive shudder at the nearness of him.

Distantly, she realized that the months of chasing the spark she had with Billy with other men had been pointless. There was no way to recreate it because Billy was the spark. There was no way to recreate what they had because there was no one else like Billy and she didn’t want anyone but Billy.

Feeling the cold concrete of the ground seeping through her leggings, she registered that she must have sunk to the ground as Billy kept his arms around her, both of them huddled on the floor as she sobbed and half heartedly struck Billy’s chest with a weak fist, whispering a few choice phrases such as "fuck you" or "bastard".

The last thing she remembered was Billy whispering the words ``I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again as he rocked her back and forth as she felt herself drift into unconsciousness.

~~~

It was the first sleep she'd had where she didn't dream.

Eyelids fluttering open, she blinked the drowsiness away, forgetting about where she was and why she was on a cot with the desert sun piercing through the linen curtains over the window next to her.

Then it all came slamming back to her with such force that it pulled the air from her lungs. Crushing her knees into her chest she rolled into a ball, breathing into the cave she’d created for herself. Listening to her breath cycle through her body helped to ground her into the fucked up reality she’d woken up in.

After a few minutes, she lifted her head and took a deep breath in. Exhaling, she swung her legs over the edge of the cot and walked toward a door that she assumed was a bathroom.

Seeing that the door had been cracked open she hesitated, not wanting to barge in if someone was already in there. Leaning forward she tried to see who it was.

Her breath was ripped from her lungs for a second time as her eyes were met with the broad expanse of Billy's back. He was twisting in the mirror, trying to rub gel onto the bruise that was blooming on his side from her fists.

Guilt blossomed in her gut as she thought about how she had hurt him, then figured it was the least she could do to him considering he had caused her more pain and suffering than any one person should feel in their lifetime.

A whine interrupted her thought process as Billy pressed too hard on the bruise that had flowered by his rib cage. The guilt came crawling back and she gently knocked on the door, pushing it open.

"Do, uh, do you need help?" Feeling shy suddenly, she trained her eyes on Billy's feet which shuffled back and forth, as if trying to decide if he wanted to be closer to her or afraid she would hit him again.

“Yeah-yes. I need your help.” He cleared his throat, “I need you.”

Studiously avoiding eye contact, she reached for the gel he had been trying to apply. She took it from his hands and rubbed some onto her palms. Feeling his gaze burning into her, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

The scent of eucalyptus filled the air as she pressed her palms onto his skin. He couldn't fight the hiss that leaked out from between his teeth.

Her lips quirked up as she whispered, "Don't be a baby."

Their eyes met and he couldn't help what happened next, he kissed her.

Rising up to meet the harsh push of Billy's lips against her, lust roared to life in the pit of her stomach. Grasping Billy's biceps she leaped into the air, wrapping her legs around his waist. Billy's arms flew up to wrap around her as they both pressed their lips into each other, moaning as she clawed at his back. He deposited her on the sink counter as he reached a leg out to kick the bathroom door shut, praying that no one tried to open the door because fuck. He wasn't going to stop kissing her just to lock a damn door.

She pulled back, ripping a wimper from Billy. Smirking, she nipped at his bottom lip, then ran her tongue delicately over the red spot that was blooming there. Moaning, he thrusted his hips forward, trying to find something to help relieve the pressure building in his cock. Her moans mixed with his as she pressed her own hips forward.

Billy's hands gripped her waist as he stepped in between her legs, pumping his hips forward, meeting her needy thrusts with his own. Gasping at the feeling of Billy's length rubbing against her, Billy let out a groan as he wound a hand into her hair, pulling it to expose the line of her throat as he nipped down it, humming with each whine she let out.

Running her hands down his arms, she moved his hands to grasp at her tits, pushing them into his hands to drive home where she wanted him to touch her most. Chuckling, he ran his thumbs over her breasts, brushing the pad of his thumb over the peak her nipples made through her tank top.

Keening she reached forward, grasping the edge of his joggers, pulling him forward as she nudged them down, grasping his cock at the base, stroking it.

Billy growled at the action, grasping the waistband of her leggings, he wiggled them down her thighs till they pooled around her ankles. Kissing her deeply, he brushed the head of his cock against her folds, moaning when he felt the wetness gathering on the head.

Reaching down, he grasped her thighs, pulling them apart so he could finally, finally, dip his cock into the folds of her cunt. Throwing her head back she let out a stream of curses, Billy biting his lip as he rolled his hips forward, both of them falling into a familiar rhythm as she dug her nails into Billy's shoulders.

Fingertips sinking into the flesh around her hips, Billy growled into her mouth, causing her to clench the walls of her cunt around his cock. Whimpering, she moved her hand down to rub at her clit. Billy batted her hand out of the way, “Let me.” he whispered before pressing his mouth more desperately against hers, as he began drawing circles over the sensitive nub.

Moaning into his mouth, she felt her walls clenching even tighter as she rocked her hips sloppily against his own, knowing she was close.

Feeling her grip around his cock, Billy knew she was close and he thanked the gods she was because he was positive he wouldn’t have lasted much longer. Pumping faster, he dug his hands so hard into her hips she knew there would be bruises there.

Not that she minded.

Feeling the fire gnawing its way through her, she clung to Billy desperately as he gave a few last rocks, pressing against her clit in the most delicious way, she gave into the pleasure sweeping over her.

Her walls clamped around him, giving him the final nudge he needed to spill into her. Both of them groaned as the last few waves of pleasure swept over them. Her head came down to rest on Billy's shoulder. His hands still clamped on her hips, both of them breathing each other's scents as their fury wound down.

The silence was interrupted by the crackle of the intercom,

"Kinda pissed I wasn't the first one to get into those Nike leggings."

"Fuck off." came their simultaneous response. Locking eyes, they both broke into smiles as Billy gingerly pulled himself from her. Helping her down from the counter, he cleaned them both up, helping her step out of her leggings but leaving her underwear on. As he pulled his own joggers up, he gently pushed her into the room she had just left. Stumbling back into the room, she felt exhaustion wash over her again.

Collapsing once more into the bed, the last thing she remembered before dropping back into sleep was Billy padding into the room and her hand reaching out for him. Grasping for it so she could be sure he wouldn’t leave before she woke up.

~~~

Billy became suddenly aware there was a weight on his chest.

Stirring, he felt the mass curl into him further. Sniffing, he caught a whiff of the shampoo (Y/N) always used and knowing it was her curled into him was almost enough to have him break down into sobs.

Bringing a hesitant hand to her waves, he gently stroked them as her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

Aware of the hand stroking her hair, she did her best to keep still so he wouldn't stop. She knew that when she woke they would need to have a serious conversation about...all of it. About Billy being alive. Them being on the same team. Would she be able to trust him again? There was a lot to discuss but right now she wanted to lay on his chest and pretend that it was the day after their first day together, the future ahead of them bright and unencumbered.

Feeling her arm start to fall asleep, she figured it was time to wake up and face Billy.

Feeling her stir, Billy's hand stilled on her waves, moving down to land on her hip as she shifted so she could shoot a sleepy smile up at him, "Morning" she croaked out and Billy thought he had never seen something so adorable in his entire life.

Smiling, he replied, "Morning," then frowned, "or afternoon. I have no bloody idea what time or day it is to be quite honest with you."

Letting out a wheezy laugh she brought her head back down to his chest as he wrapped an arm around her, bringing her closer to him, feeling more grounded already with her next to him.

He knew they should talk about what his being alive meant for them and for the future, but he wanted to be selfish and hold onto these few peaceful moments. He’d realized how greedy he was when it came to spending time with (Y/N) but he couldn't help it. Every second, every minute, he wasn't next to her felt like a moment wasted.

Sighing, she turned her face up to him, "I guess we should talk about...well...the fact that you're not dead." Bringing his other hand up to rub down his face, Billy let out a sigh, "Yeah, I s'pose we should."

"Don't sound too excited."

"You gonna hit me again?"

"You going to keep having that tone with me?"

Cowing immediately Billy ran his hand over her back, "No, 'course not (Y/N). Sorry."

Sniffing she nodded to show she'd acknowledged his apology. Her next question came out on a sigh, "Why, Billy?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you do this?"

It was Billy's turn to heave a sigh as he chose his next words with care. He wanted, needed, her to understand why he did what he did. He needed her to understand it wasn’t because he didn’t love, it was because he loved her too much.

"Because...well...One's offer was too good to pass up. Truly. I could do all my Sky Walker stuff but also be able to help people. It was my chance to make a difference in the world, to do some massive good on a global scale."

Sniffing back tears, she nodded mutely as she absentmindedly drew circles over his torso. "I understand that Billy, but...why did you have to break your promise?"

The sharp intake of breath from Billy caused her to raise her head, shock flooding her veins as she saw tears start to leak out of the corner of his eyes. Raising her thumb up, she swiped them away.

"I didn't want to, (Y/N). But...I had to. One explained to me how dangerous this job was, is, and how people will do awful things to anyone connected to you. I...I couldn't bear the thought of you being caught in the crosshairs or having something happen to you because of me."

"Okay but, why didn't you talk to me about it? You just assumed I would be okay with it? That I would tell you One was right? That I wouldn't fight for you? For us? C'mon Billy. Give me a little credit."

"Yeah, because you took so well to my original job."

Her body stilled as she realized he was right. Not that she was happy about it. Sighing she tilted her head up to look into his eyes, "You're right. But that was before. This is...now. I'm different. I've changed."

Billy's eyes roamed over her face, memorizing every detail of it. He took stock of her eyes, how the light was boarded up tight, like they were the first few times he’d talked to her. When she smiled or laughed, he saw a flash of it peek through only for her to quickly shove it back down.

As she studied his own face, she desperately wanted to let her guard down. It would be so easy to slip into how it should have been but there was something that was holding her back. She couldn’t figure out what it was until it hit her like a freight train.

What if Billy really died?

Now that she knew his death had been a ruse and he was still alive, this time, if he did die in this life...there really was no coming back from that. Her heart tore in half at the thought.

"Love..." he hesitated to see how she would react to the pet name. When she didn't hit him or tell him not to use it, he continued, "Love, listen. This is totally your choice. If you think we can do this, then, I'm all in. This will be our new life together. But if there's even a shred of an issue, then you get to walk out that door. And you'll never hear from me again." His heart leaped when she wrapped her arm around his chest more securely at that admission.

"I don't want that. But...Billy...what happens...if...if...you die. Again. For real." Her voice was shaky as she nestled her face into Billy's side, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears threatening to overwhelm her.

Billy's breath left his lungs in a harsh whoosh as the full impact of that idea made his heart skip a beat. He hadn't even considered the possibility. Mainly because if he did, he would never do half the shit he did.

"I wish I had a good answer love but, I don't." Hearing her sniffle he turned on his side, cupping her chin in his hand as he tilted her face up so she would look at him and know how desperately he meant the next few words,

"I just, I have a feeling in my gut that I won't die though. The only reason I made it through half of these missions is because of the people around me and...you." Her eyes widened at this admission,

"Yes, love. You. The very idea of you when I was off doing things that James Bond could only dream of," she snorted as Billy grasped one of her hands in his own, "is what made me more convinced than ever that I needed to get back to you in one piece. And if you join the team? Love, you will be the only thing that's going through my head when we're on a job together. The promise of being able to come home to you at the end of the day, to have you patch me up, to give me endless shit. I wouldn't want to miss any more of it than I already have. So please, believe me when I tell you, if you join this team? I will never, ever leave you again. I promise, (Y/N)."

Raising her eyes to meet his blue ones, she felt her heart squeeze when she saw the tears streaming freely down his face. He had laid his heart bare for her and the love she felt for him in that moment made her glow with a warmth she hadn’t felt, well, since the last time they had been in a bed together. But part of her was still hesitant. She wanted to believe him but she couldn’t go through what she had already been through again.

Billy knew that she was doing her best to figure out if he truly meant it. Sensing her hesitation, he placed the hand he had been gripping over his heart, "Do you feel that?” She nodded, feeling grounded as his heart beat beneath her palm, “Every beat is for you. For you and you alone, love. You bring me into the light and make me feel as if I deserve to be there. Please, (Y/N), do what you think is right but just know, that I want you, and only you, for the rest of my life."

Crying freely, she nodded frantically as she curled herself into Billy's chest. Stroking her back, he let her cry as much as she needed to. After a while, she pulled back, mumbling an apology for getting snot on his shirt as he laughed. Lifting her head up she realized she was right in line with Billy's lips. They were so perfect, reaching a hesitant finger out, she traced them. Feeling her heart beat harder when Billy’s breath hitched at the movement.

Lowering her finger, she snuggled closer to Billy as she reached her lips up to press them against his own softly, tentatively, like she was asking a question more than providing an answer.

Billy sighed as he brought a hand up to cup her face. Stroking the planes, he made sure to remember exactly how her lips felt as he wiped the last of her tears from her face.

Deepening the kiss, she moaned softly into his mouth as he traced a line from her cheek, down her neck, down her side until his hand landed on her hip. Giving her a gentle nudge, she swung her leg over and straddled Billy as he adjusted himself underneath her. He looked up at her and was sure he had never seen a more beautiful sight. Clad in her black tank top and panties, no makeup, hair falling in her face, Billy's heart ached at the notion of being able to wake up to this sight every day of his life.

Resting her hands gently on the broad expanse of his chest, she gave a small thrust forward, testing to see how hard he was. Gasping when she felt his full length twitch, he cocked an eyebrow at her, "You okay there, love?"

"Shut it." She mumbled as she leaned down to capture his lips with hers.

"Make me" was his response as he kissed her back tenderly. Their movements were languid, the passion and tension that had gripped them last night burnt away only to leave the love, adoration and relief they both felt to be reunited with each other. Gently rubbing herself over his cock, he reached a hand down to nudge his pants out of the way.

When his cock sprang free, she reached a hand down into her panties, running two fingers over her own slick, lifting her hand up to lick the juices off her fingers as Billy stared at her, slack-jawed.

Giggling, she moved her underwear to the side as she shifted her hips, positioning herself over his length then slowly lowering herself until he was fully sheathed inside of her.

She gasped as his hands came up to caress the bruises he had left on her hips. His touches were feather light as she let herself adjust to the girth of Billy's cock. Both of them were making a conscious effort to not rush this time. They wanted to relish the feel of each others bodies.

They both treated their bodies as dispensable when they were on a job, but with each other they gave into the feeling of being admired, of being adored, of being touched delicately and being delicate in return.

As (Y/N) let herself enjoy how full she felt with Billy inside of her, Billy rubbed his thumbs over her hips, urging his own hips to stay still. He didn't want to rush this. He didn't want to rush her. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to make sure that she felt comfortable, that she could feel how much he loved and cared about her through his actions.

In the same vein, (Y/N) wanted to treat Billy with softness. To show that she trusted him, that she wanted to be with him always and would trust him with her life. That he deserved to be cherished. Slowly, she started rocking her hips back and forth, finding a soothing rhythm as her fingers fluttered down to rest on Billy's stomach.

Billy's hands caressed her thighs, brushing slow patterns, the roughness of his palms on her skin causing goosebumps to rise up as she started pumping her hips a little faster. Below her, Billy was making the most obscene noises she'd ever heard. Moans, whines and gasps, the whole time desperately searching for eye contact so he could watch her reaction to every movement of his body underneath hers.

Leaning down to kiss him, he grasped her shoulders and flipped them so he was on top of her, using his forearms to prop himself up, staring down at her, he smiled, "You're the most beautiful woman in the world." Blushing furiously, she rolled her eyes so she wouldn't have to make eye contact knowing that if she did, her heart would explode with how much love she had for him.

Leaning his head down, he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, inhaling the smell of her skin, the sweetness of her perfume, the slight tang of salt and something that was so unmistakably (Y/N). Pressing his lips into the curve where her neck sloped down to meet her shoulder, he heard her sigh and continued to nudge his hips forward.

When her moans grew louder, he let out a small growl that made her clench around his length. Thrusting her hips up, she whined needily in the back of her throat. Smirking, Billy started pumping his hips faster into her. Feeling the pit in her stomach grow hotter, she ran her fingers over his head, feeling the pricks of his stubble rub against her palms. As he pulled back to stare into her eyes, she brushed the errant strands that had fallen in front of his eyes. She wanted to drown in their blueness.

Continuing to thrust into her, Billy felt his orgasm building as he kept eye contact with her. Everything was quiet except for their breath. The sighs, the hitches, all of it was much hotter to Billy than any dirty talk could be.

Feeling her heart beat start to speed up, she knew she was getting close. Biting her lip, she peered at Billy through her eyelashes, "Billy...I'm going to cum."

Leaning down, she could feel the smile that was playing on his lips as he whispered in her ear, "Then cum for me, my love." With those words, the pit in her stomach expanded and swallowed her whole. Squeezing her eyes shut, she came with a sharp inhale and slow exhale as her hips rose up to meet Billy's as he pumped into her through her orgasm. Feeling her walls clench around him, watching her come undone below him, pushed him right over the edge. As the last vestiges of her orgasm left her, she felt Billy's hips pumping against her sloppily until with a final grunt, she felt him fill her up with his cum.

Panting, they looked into each others eyes and she giggled as he smiled at her, looking a little dazed. Carefully pulling out of her, he cleaned them up. After pulling his sweatpants back up, he laid down on the bed, pulling her to his chest.

Nuzzling her face into Billy she sighed. Feeling her body loosen and relax, Billy started to plant kisses all over the top of her head, moving down to pepper her cheeks with kisses, she giggled and squirmed away from him. Chuckling, he placed one last kiss to the tip of her nose, “C’mere love. We’ve been apart too long to have you so far away from me.”

“Billy, I’m like an inch away from you.”

“And that’s still too far.” he whined as he pulled her flush against him. Giggling, she flung her arm and leg over Billy’s form, attaching herself even closer to him, “Is this close enough?”

“Not really but, it’ll have to do.” he mumbled as his arms wound around her, hugging her tightly into him.

As they laid there, their breath evened out to match each other. And several hours later, when One was checking the surveillance cameras, that was how he found them. Entwined in each other, breathing in and out in synch, looking for all the world like pieces of a puzzle that had finally come together to create a whole picture.

~One Month Later~

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, of course I'm not. You gotta get out of here and this is the best way to do it. C'mon."

"Eight-" hearing her code name come out of Billy's mouth always made a shiver run down her spine. One time, he had growled it when they were having sex and the orgasm that’d ripped through her when it happened caused her to see God.

She had been lovely.

"Four. I believe in you." Billy pulled up short as he heard those four words crackle through his earpiece. Then,

"You two need to cut the foreplay and figure out a legitimate way of getting the fuck out of this building before it blows."

"Hey, One? Why do you need to cockblock us at every opportunity?" (Y/N) laughed.

"Shut it Eight or I'm going to let you explode in this building."

"You would miss my witty banter though. No one else can keep up with you like I can."

"Correction, no one wants to keep up with him like you do." Was Five's dry reply as she prepped the medical gear sitting in the getaway car. Shrugging, (Y/N) couldn't find fault with that statement. With a final ding, the files finished uploaded to the flash drive. Pulling it out, she gingerly stepped over the four guards that had rushed to greet her.

Slipping into the hallway and gently closing the door behind her, she rushed down the hallway, looking first right, then left to see if Billy was there. She heard a thud to her right and drew her gun as she turned to aim it at whoever was trying to sneak up on her.

"Gotta say, I'm afraid but also a little turned on."

It was Billy at the end of her barrel, holding his arms high.

Holstering her gun she rolled her eyes, "When aren't you feeling like that?"

"Good point, it's been my constant state since you joined the team."

Laughing, she grabbed his hand and started running down the hall of the home of the mobster they’d been infiltrating. He’d been a kingpin in one of the biggest sex trafficking rings in the world. But they had busted him, and it, wide open. (Y/N) had just leaked all of his documents to the FBI and to all major news sites, while downloading a copy for herself. The rest of the team had been making sure she had clear access to the computer and had been extracted awhile ago, it was just her and Billy left.

As they raced down the hallway, they felt a rumble, then,

BOOM.

An explosion rocked the building, bringing them up short, as they looked at where the staircase used to be.

"Well, fuck."

Feeling something tugging her arm, (Y/N) looked away from the inferno to Billy tugging her towards the window, "Trust me?"

"Always."

Smiling back at her, he gripped her hand tighter as they both took off for the window. As a second explosion racked the building, the glass erupted as they launched themselves through the window, body's rolled tight as they aimed for the bunting on the building across from them.

~~~

"FUCK does that hurt. Jesus Christ."

"You do this every time I have to patch you up. Why aren't you used to this? Better question, why do I still patch you up?"

"Because it's how we fell in love in the first place and you love taking care of me."

"Shut up" was her mumbled reply. Billy smiled smugly as he snuggled deeper into the chair he was seated in.

After they had landed on the bunting, rolling and thumping onto the street, they’d pushed themselves up and leaped into the getaway car as Two peeled out and away from the smoking wreckage.

They hadn't even noticed the scraps and cuts they’d acquired until the adrenaline had flowed out of their system and Five was yelling at them, telling them what fools they were and how dumb could they be.

Laughing, Billy drank in (Y/N)'s bright eyes, her mouth stretched into a smile as she hurled insults back at One and flirted shamelessly with Seven. He had slipped a hand onto her thigh with the first wink she’d aimed at Seven. Ignoring the weight of his hand on her thigh, she continued their banter. With every remark, wink or playful nudge, he moved his hand up her thigh until finally,

"Your hand is basically on her pussy can you two please get a room." Three groaned.

Two smacked him as (Y/N) blushed furiously, batting Billy's hand off her leg as Billy laughed, flicking his tongue over his lips.

Getting back to HQ, they tumbled out of the van. Voices overlapping and mixing with each other as they stumbled back to safety, everyone ready for a well deserved rest. (Y/N) was listening to Five explain the latest state of the art medical equipment they’d gotten when she felt the roughness of Billy's palm engulf her hand. Smiling, she squeezed his hand, feeling his palm press harder into her own and giving her butterflies all over again.

"That's even grosser than earlier." Seven snorted at One's comment but felt a tug in his heart at how easily they had slotted themselves back together.

They had emerged from the room they’d been in a few hours later, only to be met by whooping, pats on the back, congratulations being passed around and One loudly declaring how impressed he was with how they "banged it out."

Rolling her eyes she’d put her hands up, "Listen. Before this goes any further I just want to let you guys know what my decision is."

Billy's head had snapped up at that comment. Eyes widening he felt his stomach drop, she’d never specifically said what she had decided on. Feeling unsteady, he braced his hands on the back of a chair, sure he was going to snap it with his grip.

The air in the room became thick with anticipation. Everyone stilled to hear what her final verdict would be.

"I'm in. All in."

Her words were meant for everyone but her gaze stayed glued on Billy. The smile that broke across his face was enough to make her smile as his lips connected to hers, the rest of the room breaking into cheers and whoops and then disgusted groans as Billy deepened the kiss.

Since then, she had fit into the dynamic of the team like she’d always been a part of it. This had been their first official mission with her on board and they were all pleased with how it went. One even offered her a compliment on her competency during the debriefing.

(Alright, so it was a backhanded compliment but that was as good as it was going to get with One.)

Now, she and Billy were back at their shared airplane husk at HQ. Billy's favorite part of their place was the cross-stitch she had done that said "Husk Sweet Husk" with an airplane underneath. It warmed his heart every time he saw it.

Billy was in a chair as (Y/N) sat next to him on the same stool she had perched on the first time he arrived at her apartment. Five had taken care of the larger cuts but she still liked to patch him up whenever she could. It made her feel closer to him and it allowed them to come down from missions together.

"Would you stop squirming? I swear, you're worse than a toddler."

"I'm just trying to keep your skills sharp, love."

"You're about to meet the sharp end of my knife if you don't stop fucking moving."

"And there's that sharp tongue I fell in love with."

"Oh shut up." She smirked as a blush climbed up her cheeks, causing Billy to lean forward and pepper them with kisses as she threw cotton balls at him.

"I give up! You're impossible and on your own to patch yourself up."

"C'mon love, don't be a baby." He snickered as he grabbed her hand to pull her into his lap.

Tucking her head under his chin she pouted, "You know that always works on me, that's not fair."

"Who ever said anything in this relationship is fair?" He tickled her sides lightly until he heard a giggle leave her mouth. Smiling he pressed a kiss to her head as she snuggled deeper into his chest. Winding his arms around her, he squeezed her close. Their breaths synching up as they watched the last of the sun dip below the horizon.

Five minutes or an hour later, she wasn’t sure, she finally shifted with the intention of getting up when she heard Billy hiss.

Looking up at him with confusion, she furrowed her brows, "What?"

"You can't do that, love"

"Why not?" Shifting again she felt something poke her and let out a gasp, "Is that-?"

"It's definitely not my gun so yes. I am very happy to see you."

Laughing she unfolded herself from his arms, "Okay, sorry. I won't do that unless we're spooning and then I'll just 'accidentally' wriggle my butt around until you get hard again."

"It won't take long." The husky quality of Billy's voice caused her head to snap up. His eyes were hooded, boring into her own. The air between them thick with lust.

It had been like this ever since they’d been back together. Everything was a sexual innuendo or an excuse to touch each other. Seven thought it was because of how sexually frustrated Billy was after not getting laid for so long but they both knew it was because they needed the reminder.

Every caress, touch, kiss and sigh against each other's skin was a reminder that this was real, they were with each other. Every time Billy would grab her hand under the table during a meeting a jolt of electricity shot through her.

And every time (Y/N) brushed up against Billy or laid a hand on his back to move past him, his cheeks would flush, remembering that she was close enough to touch and he could touch her any time he wanted.

Neither of them took for granted the simplest things anymore. Passing touches, kisses on the cheek, hugging, holding hands, it all signified something bigger for them. That they could reach out and touch each other whenever they could. Every morning that they woke up, entwined in each others arms was another day that was going to be good, because they had woken up where they belonged.

(Y/N) broke their gaze first, cheeks burning as she shuffled back and forth, "Umm, Mark texted me by the way. He, Mary and Jean are going to FaceTime with us later so we better not get too heated."

"Why does your brother cockblock me at every possible time?"

"Because I'm his sister, it's practically his job."

It’d been tricky to navigate the after-math of the discovery of Billy's demise. She knew that no one knew if she was dead or alive but after negotiating with One, she talked him into taking Mark and Jean onto the team. Which hit another snag when they found out that Mark and Mary had started dating.

One had thrown his hands up when this knowledge came to his attention and cursed the day he brought this, "cluster fuck of a circus" into his group. Begrudgingly he had allowed Billy's mom, sister, Mark and Jean to come to HQ. As soon as they stepped foot in the plane, he had put the fear of God into them about this job, the dangers and how it was of mortal importance they keep their "fucking mouths shut." At which point, he had gone to the door, flung it open and walked out, "Oh and by the way, here's the problem that started this whole mess." he called over his shoulder as Billy walked into the room, sheepishly holding his hand up in a meek wave.

(Y/N) had let him have that moment alone. She figured that would muddy the waters and besides, everyone in there already knew she was alive and okay. They deserved to have time with just Billy. To process, to understand. It had killed her to wait for them to emerge from the room but it had been worth it when she saw Billy and his mother emerge from the room, their eyes red rimmed from crying, arms around each other.

Mark and Jean worked remotely most of the time. One would call them in for missions occasionally but they stuck to ground work and passed information off to One when need be.

Mary and Billy's mom kept quiet, still letting everyone believe that Billy was dead but buoyed by the fact that they could FaceTime him whenever they wanted. (Y/N) also knew that One sent updates to Billy's mom whenever he could and paid for her to come out to visit Billy at HQ when they were between missions. It warmed her heart and made his snarky comments easier to put up with.

Sighing, Billy hauled himself out of the chair, ambling towards the bathroom, "Well, come on then, better make the shower sex quick." He clamped his hands down around her waist as he nudged them towards the bathroom as her laugh rang out, bouncing over the sand dunes.

~~~

"FUCK. BILLY!"

With a final moan, Billy came inside (Y/N), both of them breathing heavily as they came down from their highs. After cleaning up, Billy collapsed into the bed, unfortunately landing right on top of her.

"OOF. Billy, c'mon." Shoving weakly at his form she knew it was a lost cause as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.

"S'comfortable. You should just try to be less comfortable to lay on top of."

"How would that even work?"

"Get rid of your boobs."

Gasping, her hands flew up to her chest, "You know these are the money makers!"

"Of course I know that, love. Seven and Three know it as well."

Smacking his shoulder they both chuckled. As their breathing steadied, Billy rolled off her, bringing her into his chest where they snuggled deeper into the blanket they shared. Just as their eyes were closing,

BANG BANG BANG

"C'mon you two. Quit fucking for two seconds, One has a new mission for us."

Groaning, she buried her face into Billy's chest, "Tell One he can go fuck himself."

"You can yourself, darling. In about two seconds."

Dragging her body from the warm nest they had made, she stepped into the first pair of sweatpants she found on the ground, "Remind me again why I agreed to do this stupid job?"

Feeling Billy's hands on her shoulders, she twisted around only to be met with a deep lingering kiss from him, "Because I love you. And I can't do this life, or any life, without you being right next to me."

Pressing her forehead against his she smiled, inhaling deeply, "I love you."

"I love you, too. Also I'm so going to beat you to the control room."

Wha-?" her sentence was cut off as Billy raced from their husk, sprinting across the sand as best he could. An indignant snort left her as she took off after him, their laughter bouncing over the sand. Billy glanced back at her and didn’t know which was brighter, the full moon hanging above them or the warmth that radiated from (Y/N)’s laughing eyes as she raced to follow him to the ends of the world. Reaching a hand out, she grabbed his own as he tugged her forward into their next adventure.

~~~

Tag List: @itsabenthing @vroboat @mrhoemazzello @gwendolyns-stacy @alliwantfromyouistomakelovetome @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @jonesyaddiction @xtrashmammalstefx @radiob-l-a-hblah @fairestkillerqueenofall @acciodallas @peter-sue-the-management

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sarah-bae-maas · 4 years

Text

Rowaelin AU! chapter two

AU! where the valg wars never happened, but Rowan and Aelin still stumble upon each other anyway

Chapter 1 Ao3 Masterlist

***

This was the worst possible thing that could have happened.

Rowan stood beside the king and queen, completely taken aback by the sight of the princess. When Rowan had gotten roaring drunk the night before and decided to sleep with a seemingly perfect stranger, he could never have imagined that the woman he'd bedded would be the one standing before him now. She was exquisite, and even through the haze of his hangover he knew her to be beautiful.

And to be a colossal mistake.

He was just glad Lorcan wasn't here to witness this embarrassment; he would never live it down.

"Princess Aelin, might I please introduce Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle, your new mentor."

Either she didn't recognise him, or she hid her expression perfectly. She had the snake smile of any royal plastered on her face, a unique expression in a humble court. The slight tilt of her lips was acknowledging, but nothing else.

"He comes to highly recommended my dear," her father, King Rhoe, said, beaming at his daughter. "Your Uncle Gavriel was the one who told us he would be perfect."

Rowan considered fleeing so that he didn't have to face the wrath of Gavriel if he ever discovered Rowan bedded his niece. Rowan had been saddened that he wouldn't see the male until Gavriel returned from assignment, now he was grateful. He had the chance to wash the scent of the princess off before anyone could notice he was slathered with her.

"He has been a teacher for Doranelle for over a century; he trains their army and is a leading commander."

Aelin's smile tightened, although Rowan didn't think anyone would be able to notice.

"And why would such a high ranking commander come to Orynth to help train me?" Her voice was melodic, and oh so incredibly fake. Did no one else see it?

Rowan looked over the courtiers gathered. He knew Terrasen was a prosperous kingdom, and it showed in their nobility. It was always obvious when wealth and health had been faked, but Orynth really was a dream for its inhabitants. Inhabitants who looked at their princess with concern - not for her, but for themselves. They were afraid.

Interesting.

"Aelin, please," Queen Evalin's voice was taught. "This could help you, don't you understand? We're running out of options, and after-"

"What your mother means to say, my dear, is that Prince Rowan is the best of the best, and we're thrilled to have him here with you. We believe that you could grow so much from this." King Rhoe turned to Rowan, a friendly smile on his face. "You have my full trust with my daughter."

Rowan tried to smile back, as if he hadn’t already devoured the woman he’d sworn to help. How he was going to fix this mess, he didn’t know, but one thing was for sure. He could not, under any circumstances, be involved with the princess.

___

Rowan was wrapping his hands as he waited for Princess Aelin. At first, there was expected to be an audience to their training. He dismissed them thoroughly, or, in the words of Lorcan, aggressively. Now, his commanding officer was the only one in the room, and he was grinning like a banshee.

"This is the best thing to happen to me all day."

"Shut the fuck up, Lorcan."

"I take you here for a break. I give you lots of space to be a moody little shit, and just when it's looking like you might smile again, you have your first one-night stand with the worst possible person."

"You tried to fuck her too."

"Yes, but I was unsuccessful."

Before they could continue bickering, the door to the side of the courtyard opened. They were in a square, outdoor space lined with columns. Behind them were mazes of paths, and high hedges to keep out wandering eyes. It would be an ideal space for physical training, which is what Rowan would start with. If the previous night was anything to go by, she had little control. She could use some refinement - her movement was too wild. Even in the throne room, she was practically vibrating.

The princess walked in with two men at her helm. One man was a brunette human, two swords strapped to his back. The other was a fae male, and Rowan would recognise him anywhere. It was Gavriel's boy, the one that made him leave Doranelle all those years ago. Rowan didn't begrudge him that - Gavriel was head over heels with his woman when they discovered the pregnancy. And as forgiving as the Ashryver's tend to be, they could be archaic in the worst ways.

"Princess, I have requested that there be no audience for our training sessions," Rowan said, voice as impassive as he could make it. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster.

"This is Aedion and Ren, they insist on following me wherever I go." She smiled, taking a step towards him. "They're very needy."

She was talking to him in the same voice she'd used last night, the kind of voice that made you think she was divulging her deepest secrets. It was as if she thought this whole situation was humorous.

Rowan would soon let her know that it was not.

"Prince Aedion, Ren." Rowan nodded at them. "I do not need babysitters, I have been training the most ruthless fae since before you were even a thought in your parent's mind. Lorcan, if you could escort them away while I train the princess."

"That's not happening," Ren smirked. “You may have come highly praised by Gavriel, but you are still a stranger.”

Aedion looked thoughtful. He tilted his head, and Rowan ignored the princess and her guard to take him in.

Gavriel had clearly raised the boy in his image. Everything about him - his defined muscles, scars on his body, posture - spoke of a well-trained soldier. He observed Rowan the way that Rowan looked over him, and he seemed displeased with what he saw. That, or he had quite the poker face.

“I’ve heard stories of you and him,” Aedion swept his hand in the direction of Lorcan, “my entire life. You could be the worst thing that has ever stepped foot into this court if you wanted to be. I know the best things about you, but I’m also well aware of the shittest. I suspect the only reason you are held in such high regard is because, so far, you have been on the same side as us. For only my trust in my father, I’ll leave you with her.” Aedion stepped around the princess, his gaze feral as he approached Rowan. “But if you cross her, be warned that it will be a signature on your death warrant.”

With that, the boy turned and stormed away, Ren following him after a quick scowl in their direction. As soon as they were out the door, Lorcan opened his big fat mouth with a rapturous laugh. “The unwarranted confidence on that boy is astounding. He couldn’t step an inch in our direction before he’d be dead.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Leave, Lorcan.”

He looked at him aghast. “Why?”

“I told you, no babysitters. Piss off.”

Lorcan bowed theatrically to Rowan and winked at the princess before escorting himself out, leaving Rowan alone, finally, with her.

She wore loose clothes that would help her body breathe in the heat. Her shirt was short sleeved and white, and dipped just to the top of her chest, hinting at what may lie beneath. A brown belt was at her waist, a few knives casually hanging from it. Her hair was up in a tight bun on her head, making her now-human face longer and sharper. This must be her animal form - how curious. A light breeze blew through, and he could still smell his scent on her. Any fae who came across them both and was worth their weight would know what had transpired between Rowan and the woman before him.

He was unsure of what to say now that they were alone.

“So, this was… unexpected,” she breathed, her face finally showing something other than indifference. “When I was told they were shipping someone in to train me, I expected some old bastard.”

Rowan swallowed hard. “I can assure you Princess, I am the best.”

“Aelin, please call me by my name.”

He ignored her plight. “Princess, stand with your legs shoulder width apart. I want to see what you can do.”

___

His offer had sounded sexy at first, but Aelin soon found out that he was gruelling. There was no chit-chat, certainly no flirting, and he pushed her to her limits. He handed her weapon after weapon and kicked her ass every time, assessing her skills in each. In hand to hand combat, her favourite, he’d had her on her back barely able to breathe in seconds. It was a far cry from the night before, when she had been breathless for very different reasons. Any time she tried to speak, he would invent some new way to torture her. More surprisingly, every time her flames rose to the surface of her skin and started to burn, she would feel a blanket of magic smother it.

“I don’t understand,” she said five hours into their session. “Why can’t I use my magic?”

He clicked his tongue. “The magic will come, but right now, I want to see what else you can do.”

She gritted her teeth and continued, pushing through the burning pain in her limbs. It was another forty minutes before Rowan finally called it. He looked barely affected while she was covered in sweat and barely able to breathe.

“An ice bath will help with the pain. I’ll see you at the same time tomorrow. At the behest of your parents, I’ve placed wards on your room so that your fire might be contained in the event of an accident. They won’t stop anything if I’m not there, but they’ll slow it down.”

“When did you go in my room?” she heaved, her knees and hands shaking. Blisters littered her hands, and if she didn’t think it would make her look weak, she’d run to the healers and have them soothe them.

“I did it from your balcony yesterday afternoon, I was told you were out with Dorian.”

“So you’ll call him Dorian but you won’t call me Aelin? Are you punishing me for forgetting to ask you name last night.”

Rowan was packing up the equipment they’d used, cold in his movements. Facing away from her, he said, “Gavriel may have given me a reason to come here, but it was your father who approached him, to ask if the rumours about my abilities were true. He’d heard about me from King Dorian the first, after I helped his son. That’s how I was able to get here so quickly, I came with him from Adarlan.”

“So you’re what, friends?”

“Some might say that.”

“Two friends for two countries.” Her lips tentatively turned up, hoping that even without her flame she could warm him.

Rowan didn’t smile back like she was expecting. He had been hard during their training, but she thought that was just because he was in instructor mode. She was still struggling to put the two Rowan’s she knew together. The one from the night before, that was playful and enticing, and the one here, who was a talking statue.

“So, a blacksmith?” she teased, wondering why he had lied about his profession.

“It’s a hobby. You aren’t a pianist.”

“I really do play every week at the theatre. I’m doing a solo tomorrow, if you’d like to come and watch.” What she didn’t say if that shewould like him to come. She felt inexplicably drawn to him, but that could just be from a false sense of connection driven by her horniness.

“I’ll be busy.”

“Next week, then.”

He sighed deeply, turning his face to the ceiling as he finished putting away the last sword. “Princess, last night was a mistake, one fuelled by alcohol and anonymity. It won’t happen again.”

She scrunched up her face. “I wasn’t asking you to sneak into my room and fuck me, I was asking if you’d like to see me play since we’ll be spending so much time together. We may as well get to know each other.”

“I’m not interested in knowing you. You’re a job. An obligation. I’m here as a favour to an old friend, and because your parents think you’re an incompetent heir who is more likely to burn her kingdom down than rule it.”

Aelin flinched at the words, knowing they were true. Not just his total lack of interest, which by now was starkly apparent, but also why her parents had brought him here. She saw it every time they looked at her, the love, but also the fear that she would destroy them all. Her eyes burned, and she blinked hard. Gods, what a pathetic picture she must have painted.

“Noted.” Aelin pressed her lips together and got up, striding off. She made sure her back was straight and shoulders were up, feigning so he didn’t know how much his words affected her. With her hand on the doorknob, she asked one last question before she would sequester herself away. “What kind of magic do you have anyway?”

“You may be fire, but I’m all water and air - everything needed to obliterate you.”

As soon as she was out of his sight, she violently vomited.

#rowaelin #elorcan #AU #fanfic #kingdom of ash #throne of glass #tog #koa

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kimmimaru · 3 years

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Writing another Tseng/Reno fic. I think this one will be just a one-shot, but then again these things tend to get away from me lol. Essentially Reno and Tseng are sent to the Gongaga area to check out some bandit activity (post Advent Children) but there’s a lot more bandits than they realised and Tseng gets injured so they end up lost in the jungle. Honestly it’s just an excuse for me to write feral Reno lol. Here’s what I have so far;

“Chief,” Tseng groaned, turning his head away from the voice. “Chief!” Someone shook him, causing him to attempt to shove the offending hands away. He blinked, wincing a little as aches began to make themselves known. “Director...” Slowly the voice became recognisable and Tseng's vision cleared enough for him to see a face staring down at him. He grunted a little, his mouth too dry to speak. Reno frowned, “Yo,” He said, “You awake?” “Water...” Tseng managed to rasp, lifting a hand to putting it over his eyes. “Oh sure.” Reno moved, the sound of objects being shuffled around and then he was back, pressing a cold metal bottle against his arm. Tseng tried to sit up but pain throbbed through his stomach. He grunted, making to clutch the affected area but Reno stopped him. “I wouldn't.” He said, helping Tseng sit up. “You don't wanna re-open that wound, yo.” Tseng squinted through tangled hair, finally coherent enough to take in their surroundings. They were in what appeared to be a run down hut. He could see the empty door frame, surrounded by vines. Outside insects chirped and whirred. Birds twittered in the trees. “...What...” He cleared his throat and tried again, “What happened?” “You don't remember?” Reno frowned and Tseng noticed he had dried dirt in his hair, a scratch ran down his throat, not deep enough to be a concern. His jacket was missing and his shirt was torn, dried blood staining the cuffs and collar. “The president sent us here to investigate some rumours of bandits in the area. People've been goin' missing.” “Ah...yes I remember.” Tseng said, taking a sip of water from Reno's canteen. It was battered but serviceable. “And how did we end up here?” “Well, when you got hit I grabbed you and ran.” Reno's nose wrinkled, “And...uh...guess we're lost.” “Lost?” Tseng narrowed his eyes, looking askance at Reno. “What do you mean?” Reno rubbed at the back of his hair, “Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't really payin' attention to where we were goin'...I just had to get you outta there.” “We're...lost.” Tseng repeated, blinking as his exhausted mind tried to process everything Reno had said. “In the jungle.” “Yeah. That about sums it up.” Reno looked away, towards the entrance to their sheltered little hut. “Good job I found this place. There's a river close by, so we got fresh water. I dunno about food...though I can set up some traps. I used to hunt rats back when I was a kid and we had nothin' else to eat.” “I'm not eating rat.” Tseng muttered, looking down at himself. His torso was bare except for some bandages wrapped around his mid-section. “It's not so bad, yo. If you close your eyes you can pretend it's chicken.” Reno smirked. “Are there rats in the jungle?” Tseng asked, finishing the water and setting the flask aside. “I dunno.” Reno replied, “But there's gotta be somethin' we can eat out here. The bandits must have some kinda food source.” “Our phones, do we have any signal?” Reno held his phone out, “Nothin'. Dead as a doornail, yo.” “Damn.” Tseng sighed, “Well, the president knows our rough location, it won't be long before he sends someone after us.” “The bandits aren't camped that far from here, yo.” Reno said while putting some of their supplies away. “Is that where you got all this from?” Tseng nodded towards the small pile of medical supplies. Reno offered him a smirk, “I wasn't gonna just leave without some pay off. I got bandages, surgical sutures and some pain killers. They put up some watches but they're mostly drunk so it was too easy to sneak past 'em.” “Did you get a map or something?” “Doesn't look like they have any. 'least not one I could get to.” Tseng sighed, “So we just sit here and wait.” “Gongaga's close by, right? Maybe when you can walk we can try and find it.” “I don't think it will be that easy. If we're caught again by those men out here, we won't stand much of a chance.” Reno sighed, leaning back on his hands, “So, we wait.” “Mm.” Tseng lay back on his bed of leaves and stared up at the sky through the hole in the roof. “How did you find this place?” “Dunno, stumbled across it by accident.” Reno replied, turning to look back at Tseng over his shoulder, “Thought it was as good a place as any to set up camp.” “A good find.” “Thanks. I've slept in worse places, yo.” Reno laughed under his breath, “One time I had to hole up in an old sewer pipe, now that was bad.” “We have shelter and a source of water, we should be ok for a while.” Tseng winced, holding his wounded stomach. Reno noticed and moved closer, crouching beside him. “You ok?” “I will be.” Tseng said, taking a breath. “There were a hell of a lot more of them than we were told about.” Reno grumbled, shaking his head, “Bastards are better trained too.” “Ex-military, judging by the way they handled their weapons.” “When I went into their camp I noticed they had some explosives.” Reno lowered his voice, head tilting thoughtfully, “If they let their guards down again I could go back in and-” “No.” Tseng shook his head, “Not without back up.” “Why not? They won't see me.” “You can't guarantee that. I won't take unnecessary risks. The intel was bad, we have to retreat and regroup.”

“You sure, boss?” Reno cocked his head, hair stiff with mud and probably blood. He was filthy but seemed at ease among the curling vines and mud. “Yes.” Tseng sighed, “For now we wait for contact from headquarters and further orders.” Reno nodded absently, “Guess I'd better go see if I can get us some food then, yo. If we're gonna dig in here, I can set up somethin' to give us warning if we get any visitors.” He paused, thinking, “Gimme a day and I can keep watch on our friends, I'll report back if anythin' changes.” “Be careful, Reno.” “Aren't I always, boss?” Reno flashed Tseng a grin as he pushed himself up and brushed down his shirt, “White is gonna stand out too much.” He said to himself as he ducked out of their little hidey hole. “I'll be back before dark.” He promised and faded into the shadows of the trees.

#reno/tseng #my fanfiction #tseng/reno

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singledarkshade · 4 years

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Worth Something

Summary: Lifting a purse proves to have bigger consequences than Michael realised. Now in a world he doesn't understand he wants to trust that Miss Xavier cares for him. But no one ever has before, why would she? Author’s Note: It's Rip Week. Day 1: Friends and Family – We’re starting off the week with two things that Rip doesn’t have a lot of, or perhaps he does and he just hasn’t realised it. I chose Mary Xavier, or as Rip knows her - Mother. ********************************************* He was almost at the end of the street before the man noticed his purse had been lifted. Michael didn’t bother glancing back as he heard the man yell, instead he began to walk making sure he didn’t draw attention to himself. Darting around people, using his small stature to good effect he moved easily through the legs of the crowds.

Michael knew if he could reach the factory then he’d be safe, no adults could get through the tunnels the street kids used to get around, so they’d never find him. Sliding inside he smiled to himself and walked through several of the tunnels finding a small corner to sit in where he pulled out his prize. Opening it he found a few coins along with a strange smooth white stone. Picking up the stone, Michael turned it around a few times wondering what it was and why the man had it. The stone was slightly warm, and it seemed to hum slightly.

Shrugging, he decided he could probably sell it, so Michael pocketed it along with the coins before tossing the purse away.

Heading through the tunnels, Michael slipped out the other side of the network far away from anyone who might be chasing him.

Walking along the street he saw some of the other kids, so jogged over to catch up with them. Sliding into the group, Michael cried out in shock when he was abruptly grabbed from behind.

“Let me go,” he snarled, twisting in the grip of a man who studied him. Michael recognised him as one of those men who took kids every so often, and Michael knew he did not want to be taken. They’d seen Caspian once after he’d been taken and the look in his eyes chilled Michael. Pulling his knife out his belt, Michael stabbed blindly. The ground suddenly rushed to meet him, as warm liquid covered his hand. Seeing blood gushing from the man’s chest, Michael ran.

Breathing heavily, with every breath stabbing his chest, he paused for a moment coughing hard. He shoved his knife back into his belt before beginning to run again. He could hear the police coming after him and this time it wasn’t just a lifted purse he was being chased for.

Panic filled Michael as he had no idea where he could go that would be safe. He couldn’t get back to the factory, it was on the other direction through the people chasing him. The noise coming from behind him made Michael run again. Too late he realised where he was. He had stumbled into the docks and was at the side of the river. Wobbling on the edge, a hand grabbed his shoulder yanking him back dragging him to a safer spot.

“Let me go,” he struggled against the man holding him. Reaching for his knife, a bright light filled his vision and his entire body froze.

“Skinny little rat,” a woman said from somewhere near him, “Isn’t he?”

“But cleaner than you’d expect a child living on the streets to be,” the man holding him replied thoughtfully, “Probably realised it would make him a little more invisible not to be too dirty. Smart. Let’s see how smart he is.”

Michael felt cold metal touch his forehead and, as much as he wanted to struggle against it, he couldn’t move.

“Well?” the man demanded.

The woman let out a humming sound before speaking again, “IQ is extremely high. We’ll need a proper check to measure it accurately, but he is well within the range we’re looking for. Healthwise however is not good. I’m surprised he managed to move as fast as he did, considering he’s had pneumonia and his lungs are badly scarred plus several other health issues that need to be dealt with. Not to mention it looks like he would break in a slight wind.”

“Vicious little bastard too,” the man said, holding up the two knives Michael kept hidden on him at all times, “One in the left boot and one tucked in his belt.”

The woman laughed, “It looks like we have a new recruit.”

“Your lucky day, boy,” the man said to him, “You stole from the right person and it looks like I’m not throwing you back.”

The light came again but this time Michael blacked out.

*********************************************

“Okay,” Zaman Druce, Time Master and Captain of the Proditores, scanned over the list of children who had been picked up by the scouting teams, although the next one on his list he’d found after the boy had stolen the money bag with the tracker, “Subject 1138, picked up in Victorian London. IQ is well above the desired level. Health poor,” he frowned as he scanned the list, “Extremely poor.”

“The Medical Centre have advised that he will be required to stay for at least three months in order to fix all problems and get him to a healthy weight,” his assistant Kale spoke up, “The Oculus has provided some interesting information on him.”

Druce pulled up the predictions and smiled to himself, “Perfect. I knew when I saw him there was something special.”

“We will need to ensure he is raised within the correct house. Someone who can handle his more ‘feral tendencies,” Kale continued, “Or he may not grow up to be what you want.”

Druce thought on this, all those who ran the houses that raised the children were good at what they did, it was why they had been chosen for the roles but considering what he’d seen of the boy so far then a specific person would be required and he knew exactly who that was.

“We’ll place him in the Refuge,” Druce said, “Xavier deals well with problem children and he definitely falls into that category.”

Kale nodded, “I’ll let her know he’ll be joining the house in a few months.”

Musing for a moment, Druce replied, “No. Introduce her to him now. I need him to trust her and Xavier meeting him while he’s in the medical centre will help with that. Have her come in tomorrow.”

Kale nodded again, “I’ll let her know we have a special case that you feel she would be the best person to work with.”

“Flattering her ego should work,” Druce murmured.

With that they moved on to the next subject.

*********************************************

Michael felt groggy as he woke up.

Remembering what one of the older boys had taught him when he first started stealing, he took a slow breath so he wouldn’t panic, finding he could take a deeper breath than he had been able to in a long time. The next thing he noticed was the smell. It was completely wrong for the world he had always known. It smelled a bit like what the maid used to clean the house where they sometimes got food.

Forcing his eyes open Michael looked around. He was in a white room, with a door in front of him and a chair against the wall. He was in a bed, with clean white sheets and a red blanket. Michael grimaced finding he’d been changed into clothes that were all white, and his own were nowhere to be found. He jumped when the door opened, and a woman walked in. She had curly blond hair and wore a strange green outfit.

“Good,” she smiled, “You’re awake. I need to check…hey.”

She let out a cry of surprise as Michael jumped off the bed, trying to ignore how cold the floor felt on his bare feet before he scrambled past the woman towards the door where he ran into another woman. Older this time, with short light brown hair and a sharp face she looked surprised at their collision.

“Now where are you going, young man?” she asked sternly but with concern in her voice.

Stepping back so she let down her guard, Michael then darted around her and into the corridor. He had never seen a place so white and clean, pausing for a moment the call from inside the room reminded him he had to get away.

“Catch him,” the first woman snapped.

Michael saw two men in the same green outfit coming towards him. Glancing back the first woman stood with two more men appearing behind her. Taking a chance, he began to run the way he had been going, hoping he could dodge through the men but misjudged. Two of the men seized his arms, while the other two his legs. Michael struggled, fighting against them, crying out as the grips on his limbs tightened.

“Enough,” the second woman’s voice rang out, “Put him down now.”

“Ma’am….”

“Did I stutter?” the woman snapped, “I said put that child down. Gently.”

Terrified Michael huddled against the wall the moment the four men released him. They moved away and suddenly the second woman was kneeling at his side.

“It’s alright,” she soothed, stroking his hair while her other hand rested on his arm, “You’re safe I promise.”

Unable to stop shaking he continued to huddle into himself.

“Michael,” she called softly, “Look at me. Come on, little one, look at me.”

Slowly Michael raised his head, and he found himself staring into kind brown eyes.

“I will not let anything happen to you,” she promised, “Now, get up off this cold floor and I will explain to you where you are.”

Knowing he couldn’t get away from here right now, Michael slowly stood. He edged as close as he could to the kind woman, who rested her hand on his shoulder, without getting too close. Once back in the room, Michael slid back onto the bed and stared in confusion as the woman fussed over him. She plumped the pillow up behind him, finding socks for his feet and ensuring he put them on then she covered him with the blanket, adding another one after a few moments.

“Are you nice and cosy?” she asked.

Michael nodded warily.

“Good,” she gave him a warm smile, “Now, I should introduce myself, shouldn’t I?”

He simply stared at her not sure what she was going to say.

“My name is Mary Xavier,” she smiled again and squeezed his shoulder gently, “And from now on, I am going to look after you.”

Mary studied the boy in front of her, hoping he didn’t see how angry she was with the idiot staff. For people who treated many of the children brought to be Time Masters, you would think they would know how to calm them.

“Where am I?” Michael asked, his fear and confusion plain in his voice even though she could tell he was trying to sound brave.

Taking a seat on the bed at his side, Mary took the little boy’s hand, “This is a Medical Facility…” she stopped remembering where he’d come from, “It’s where people who are sick come and are given medicine to feel better.”

“I’m not sick.”

Mary smiled at the defensive pout, gently stroking his hair again, “Not exactly but you were. And it probably made it hard to breathe a lot of the time,” seeing him reluctantly nod, Mary continued, “We have very special medicines which we gave to you so that you can breathe easier.”

“When can I leave?” he demanded.

Knowing this was a delicate moment, Mary took a quick breath, “Well, you still need more medicine so will have to stay here for a while. And afterwards you will come to my home where you will learn amazing things with the other children I look after.”

She saw interest in his eyes, but his face set in a stubborn frown.

“Why would I come with you?”

“Because you are very special, Michael,” Mary told him, “You are wonderfully smart, you see things other people don’t, in a way they can’t, and I bet you like solving puzzles.”

He gave a half-shrug making Mary smile.

“You were brought here so that your talents can be used for good things,” she continued, “To protect people in a way you never thought possible.”

“I can’t go home?” he asked.

Mary stroked his hair again, “Michael, what is there for you back home?”

He opened his mouth before he shrugged.

“You can go home if you want,” Mary told him, even though she knew the Time Masters would never allow it, “But with me then you will have a warm bed every night and a full belly every day.”

“What do I have to do?” Michael demanded warily.

Mary’s heart broke wondering how such a young child saw a world where he only got good things from someone if he did something for them. Where there was no one he could trust.

“You have to study hard, follow the house rules and do basic chores,” she told him, “The same as everyone in the house.”

The unsure expression covered the boy’s face again and Mary gently squeezed his shoulder again.

“Why don’t you get some sleep and we can talk about it again later,” she said, “You’ve still got some time before you’re well enough to be released.”

He yielded to her gentle urging to lie down again. Mary tucked him into the bed and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Do you need anything?”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Michael whispered, looking anywhere but her eyes.

Mary nodded with a comforting smile, “I will be here, little one. I promise.”

Relief flitted over his face before he closed his eyes and cuddled into his pillows. Mary stroked the boy’s hair and gently sung to him until she was sure he was fast asleep.

Now she had to deal with the idiots working here.

*********************************************

“Good morning, Katya,” Mary greeted the nurse who was now caring for Michael.

Katya beamed, “Good morning, Mother.”

Opening her arms, Mary hugged the young woman she had raised from five years old.

“It’s good you’re here,” Katya said as they started walking, “He tried to escape last night.”

Mary frowned, “How many times is this?”

“Six,” Katya chuckled, “He’s getting more inventive. This time he stole one of the other nurses’ key cards and hid in the food trolley. Nearly made it the entrance.”

Mary smiled slightly, “He is as smart as the tests showed.”

“I think it might be time he’s told where he is,” Katya said, “He’s stronger than he was and has spent enough time in the Medical Centre with our technology. I think he can deal with the information.”

“I’ll talk with Doctor Evans,” Mary said, “But I’ll come and see our escape artist first.”

Katya laughed, “He’s still to have breakfast so I will see you there.”

Mary nodded and headed to Michael’s room. She knocked on the door and waited a moment before walking in. It was the deal she had made with him that she would never just walk into his room.

“Good morning, Michael,” Mary said, finding him sitting on the bed staring sullenly at the wall.

“Morning,” he muttered, only because Mary had given him into trouble for not answering with words the second morning she’d visited.

Ignoring the greeting, Mary placed the bag she had with her on the bed and pulled out the fresh clothes, books and games she’d brought for him today.

Michael had been in the Medical Centre for three weeks now. Mary visited him every day and, now she had ensured Katya was taking care of him, he seemed slightly less afraid. That hadn’t stopped him from trying to break out though.

“I hear that you took a small trip last night,” Mary said as she took the seat beside the bed.

Michael shrugged, “Wanted a walk.”

She frowned slightly before stroking his hair, even though he tried not to show it, Mary knew he liked the affectionate touch.

“You know that leaving here alone is not safe for you,” Mary told him, “Don’t you?”

He frowned, chin dropping defiantly.

“Michael, when I ask a question,” Mary said sternly, “You answer me.”

“I know, Miss Xavier,” he said softly.

“Look at me,” Mary ordered, pleased that two wide green eyes turned on her blinking as he tried to hold back tears, “I know that you’ve looked after yourself for a long time, Michael but you’re not alone anymore. Now, Katya is going to bring you breakfast. It is all to be eaten and no stealing anything from her. I need to speak to the doctor.”

“Will you be back?”

Leaning over, Mary kissed the top of his head, “I’ll only be a few minutes.” As she opened the door, she found Katya with Michael’s breakfast, “I’ve had a talk with him.”

Katya smiled and started extoling the virtues of the breakfast she’d brought while she took the tray over to Michael. Mary closed the door leaving them for the moment.

Michael glanced up at Katya when she placed the tray on the table in front of him.

“Is she angry at me?” he asked quietly.

Katya sat on the bed beside him, “A little but it’s only because she worries. Leaving the Medical Centre alone is not safe, Michael.”

Picking up the bowl of oatmeal, Michael began to eat. He’d been told off for eating too fast the first morning so while Katya watched over him ate slowly.

“I don’t like it here,” Michael said suddenly.

Katya chuckled, “I know but you still need medicine. And I hope I’m not bad company.”

A small smile touched his lips at Katya’s teasing.

Catching his smile, she gently nudged his shoulder, “Okay, you finish breakfast then I will do your morning checks. Then we can look at what you’ve been brought today.”

Michael tried not to let her see how excited that made him, but he loved that he had so many books to explore. He’d taught himself how to read and was lucky that the owner of the old bookstore would let him look at books sometimes. He also helped Michael if he wasn’t sure what a word meant.

Katya had taken on that role and she would sit with him while he read or played some of the games, helping him with words and things he didn’t know or understand.

A knock came on the door and after a moment Miss Xavier walked in again. Michael grimaced for a moment before realising she didn’t look angry. Instead she was smiling.

“You need to eat up,” she told him, “And then get dressed. We’re going on a small trip.”

Fear filled him, “Where are we going?”

“The doctor has agreed that you are allowed to come with me to the Refuge for a few hours today,” Miss Xavier told him, “I can show you were you will be staying once you leave here.”

Michael wanted to like her, wanted to trust that she really cared about him, but he’d spent far too long fending for himself. Everyone he’d ever trusted before now had turned on him, leaving him in the dirt.

“Finish eating,” Katya said, “We’ll do your checks quickly then you can go see the Refuge. You know it’s where I grew up.”

Surprised he blurted out, “You did?”

Miss Xavier nodded, “Katya was much younger than you when she came to me. And I am so proud that she grew up to care for people. It’s why I asked that she look after you, Michael.”

“Eat up and you can get out of this room faster,” Katya encouraged.

With a slight grimace Michael began to eat again, deciding he could use this trip to find a way to get away from this place.

Even if he did quite like Miss Xavier.

Mary fixed the collar of Michael’s jacket before satisfied that he was presentable.

“Alright, Michael,” she said gently, “I want you to stay close to me. Once we leave the building there will be a lot of people around and I don’t want you getting lost.”

She saw a small glint appear in his eyes at that, grateful that she had placed a tracker in his shoes. It wasn’t something she would usually approve of but the little boy walking at her side had already shown a tendency to try to run away. Considering where he was from, and that the world he was about to step into was completely outside his sphere of knowledge, Mary wanted to ensure he was safe.

They reached the entrance hall to the Medical Centre and Mary felt Michael edge closer to her at all the strange people milling around. She held out her hand to him.

“Just until we get outside?” Mary suggested.

Hesitantly he slid his small hand into hers and Mary squeezed comfortingly. As they walked out of the building, she had to admit she wasn’t ready for his reaction.

Michael stalled as they entered the space port, there were several small ships moving around the docked vessels, and he stared at them wide-eyed for several seconds. Screaming suddenly, he pulled away throwing himself against building and curling into a ball.

“Michael,” Mary crouched beside him, “It’s okay.”

“Monsters,” Michael cried, “Flying monsters.”

Mary smiled comfortingly, “They’re not monsters. You’ve seen ships on the river, haven’t you?”

He nodded.

“That’s all they are,” she soothed, “Just ships but instead of the river they sail through the sky.”

Michael chewed his lip for a moment before asking, “How?”

“That is a longer conversation than we should have here,” Mary laughed softly, “But it’s how we’re getting to the Refuge so you can see for yourself.”

Taking his hand, Mary managed to coax the little boy off the floor and wrapped her arm around his shoulders leading him to the small ship.

Michael couldn’t stop shaking as he looked around the strange place he was in. London was big but he knew it. This world with ships that could fly was so incredible and he held onto Miss Xavier tightly.

“Just in here,” Miss Xavier said gently as he hesitated when they reached the ship that would take them to what she called the Refuge.

Slowly he stepped inside, staring around but didn’t get a chance to look at much as Miss Xavier drew him to a chair. He sat and watched her fasten the strange belts around him before she took a seat at his side. The jerk of the entire room and the sudden strange noises made him jump.

“You can hold my hand again if you want,” she said offering it to him.

Michael grabbed her hand, not caring at that moment that he was trying not to like her too much. The trip didn’t take long, and Michael allowed Miss Xavier to unbuckle him making sure he paid attention to what she did.

“Come on,” she held out her hand, “We don’t have all day.”

Taking it Michael watched the doors opened and stared in amazement.

“Are we in a park?” he asked as Miss Xavier moved him forward.

She laughed, “No. This is part of the Refuge. Come on, the house is just along the path.”

Michael couldn’t stop his head spinning from side to side as he looked around a world he had never imagined. He would go to the park every now and then, but it never looked as green as this. It had never smelled as nice as this did either.

There were children everywhere, many of them waved and called hello to Miss Xavier all of them calling her ‘Mother.’

But no one came near them.

Mary was relieved her older children were keeping the younger ones in check and leaving her alone with Michael. She loved all her children but any time a new resident joined them Mary tried to have at least half a day alone with them to get the child acquainted with the house and with her. It also let them settle in a little.

Michael was a different case and Mary wanted to let him get to know what was going to be his new home a little more slowly. Let him ease into it.

The boy’s eyes were wide as he stared at everything, getting wider as they entered the house. Leading him into the kitchen Mary sat him down with some milk and a cookie.

“What do you think of my house?” she asked sitting across from him with a cup of tea.

“S’nice,” Michael gave a half shrug.

Forcing herself not to smile too much, Mary took a sip of tea, “Well, normally when someone joins the house. I would let them spend some time in the gardens and exploring the grounds maybe even going for a swim. But the doctor has told me that you’re not ready to be running around yet.”

Michael stared at her, waiting for whatever she was going to say.

“I thought we could bake some cakes for everyone,” Mary smiled at him, “You can take some back with you to the Medical Centre.”

He gave one of his small shrugs that Mary had become used to seeing in the past few weeks. The ones that he used to try and keep that invisible wall between them. Mary of course was intent on breaking through that and one day he would hug her first.

Finishing her tea, Mary started to pull out everything she needed to make cakes and set them out on the counter. Finally, she found the stepping stool she had to allow Michael to reach the counter.

“Alright,” she motioned him to join her and handed him the apron, “Put that on and we’ll start.”

Michael looked at her confused making her laugh.

“It’s so your clothes don’t get too dirty,” Mary told him, as she fixed the apron on him before patting his cheek, “So, how about we make chocolate cake first?”

Michael remembered watching the bakers making cakes some mornings, and how amazing the street would smell outside as they did. He tried not to be but was fascinated as he watched Miss Xavier measure out everything.

“Alright,” she handed him the bowl and a wooden spoon, “Time to start mixing.”

“What?”

She chuckled, “Did you think you weren’t going to do any work here? Mix that while I start on the cookies.”

Taking the spoon, Michael started trying to mix the ingredients around grunting that it wasn’t moving easily.

“Just keep going,” Miss Xavier told him, “You will find that things that are hard to do are almost always worth it.”

Grimacing at her, Michael tried to mix it a little more sighing as it still wasn’t working.

“You know,” Miss Xavier said softly, “If it’s too hard for you…”

“No,” Michael said quickly not wanting her to think he was weak, “I can do it.”

Turning back to the bowl, he started mixing the ingredients again with determination. Surprised when suddenly it started to get easier to mix and became smooth.

“Well done,” Miss Xavier smiled taking the bowl back, “You’re a natural at this.”

Pride filled him and he gave her a small smile back. Miss Xavier poured the mixture into a big tin before she put it in the oven.

“Now for the fun bit,” she told him, “You’re going to take a bit of the dough I’ve just made, roll it into a ball in your hand and then flatten it on the tray. Okay?”

Michael slowly followed her as she took a bit of the dough, rolling it into a ball. Placing it on the tray as instructed he paused and looked at her.

“Like this,” she said and squashed the ball she’d made until it was a circle.

Michael smiled as he pushed the ball down, it took several tries but soon he’d managed to get it flat enough.

“Well done,” Miss Xavier chuckled, “Now, let’s keep going and get these in the oven too.”

It took them some time to get them all done but finally they had two trays and slid them into the oven with the cake.

Mary turned back to Michael after they made a few more cakes seeing him trying to stifle a yawn, she’d been told he would tire easily.

“Come on,” she told the boy, “I have something else to show you.”

Michael followed her out the kitchen, and she gently rested her arm around his shoulders guiding him up the stairs. She led him to the room that would be his when he joined them and opened the door.

Michael looked inside before looking up at her suspiciously, “Who sleeps here?”

“Well,” she said softly, “This will be your room when you move here.”

“Just me?”

Mary nodded, “Of course, everyone has their own room in the house. Which I expect to be kept clean at all times.”

A confused frown touched his face as he looked around suspiciously.

“I thought you’d like this room. It has a good view,” Mary told him before she added, “And it used to be Katya’s room.”

She smiled at the interested look that information sparked, which meant he didn’t resist as she moved him inside and to the window.

“Here, you can see lake,” Mary pointed it out, “And a lot of the gardens.”

Michael stood and looked out the window before looking around the room. The entire room had been cleaned and repainted freshly ready for a new occupant as its former one was now at the Academy. All it had was a bed, which Mary had ensured was made, a desk with a chair, a bookshelf and a wardrobe.

“Why don’t you lie down for a while?” Mary suggested, touching his shoulder again.

“M’fine,” Michael muttered fighting against a yawn.

Mary smiled and gently stroked his hair back from his face, “I know you’re fine, but the doctor will give me a row if they think I didn’t let you rest.”

“I don’t want you to get into trouble,” Michael murmured, “I could lie down for a little while.”

“Take your shoes off,” Mary told him, “And get under the covers so you don’t get cold.”

With only the slightest of grumbles, Michael climbed into the bed and allowed her to cover him.

“I’ll be down in the kitchen once you’ve had your rest,” Mary said, gently stroking the boy’s hair again watching his eyes close. Once she was sure Michael was fast asleep, Mary gently kissed his forehead, “Sleep well, little one. You’re safe here.”

His only response was to snuggle deeper into his pillow as Mary left him to sleep.

Michael looked around the street, he could hear footsteps but didn’t know where they were coming from. Starting to walk he heard them follow him. Michael began to run, trying to get away from the person following him, he knew they wanted to hurt him.

No matter where he ran, the person followed. Michael began to panic as the streets he knew well became a maze, with things in the wrong place.

Suddenly he saw the factory, where he could get into places no adult could and would be safe. Just as he reached the entrance, a hand grabbed his shoulder yanking him back.

“Got you now,” a voice growled.

Michael screamed, struggling to get away he was dragged further and further away into the darkness as his captor laughed.

“Michael,” a soft voice called, and he was wrapped in a tight embrace and rocked. Confused he tried to get away until the gentle voice managed to penetrate the nightmare, “You’re safe, little one.”

“Miss…Miss…” he gulped in several breaths.

“It’s alright, little one,” she continued to rock him, “I’m here and you’re safe. You’re safe here I promise.”

Caught up in how wonderful it felt to be hugged, and how safe he felt, Michael forgot to pull away and sank into the warmth of her embrace.

“That’s my boy,” Miss Xavier murmured, stroking his hair as she rocked him, “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Mary had been worried when she heard the scream from Michael’s room and rushed in to find him thrashing about, fighting with something in his sleep. Thankfully, when he realised where he was Michael allowed her to comfort him.

While she hugged the little boy, Mary wondered how long it had been since this child had been held in a comforting embrace. After several minutes, Michael suddenly remembered he wasn’t supposed to be getting close to her.

“Why don’t you wash your face,” Mary suggested when he pulled away, “And meet me downstairs. Our cakes and cookies are ready for us to decorate them.”

Leaving him in the room, Mary smiled because even for a few moments she’d managed to get him to let down his defences. However, she didn’t like that he was having nightmares and worried they weren’t being dealt with at the centre, she would check that when she took him back.

Once she reached the kitchen Mary pulled out the supplies for decorating and set them up on the table. A few minutes later Michael appeared at the door looking pale and uncertain.

“Come on,” Mary motioned him to the table, “We don’t have long before you have to get back, so we need to ice the cake and cookies we made.”

The little boy joined her, and Mary put him to work with the icing pens. Stepping back, Mary watched him as he concentrated on decorating the cookie in front of him. She still had a lot of work to do before he would learn to trust her.

But today had been a good start.

*********************************************

Michael sat on the bed in the room in the Medical Centre thinking about his trip to Miss Xavier’s house, the one they told him he was going to stay in when he left here. It had been so completely different than anywhere he’d ever been and, despite himself, he had liked it.

He didn’t want to, but he was beginning to like Miss Xavier. She was kind and seemed genuinely to care about him, but he didn’t understand why she would. No one else ever did.

He had no memories of his mother and a very vague one of a man he assumed was his father walking away. A knock on the door made him turn and Michael forced himself not to smile when Miss Xavier stood there.

“Good afternoon, Michael,” she said as she walked over to his side, her hand coming up to gently brush his hair, “How are you today?”

“Okay,” he replied softly, “How are you?”

She gave him a smile, “I’m very well. Now, I brought you a new book to read but you’re also going to have a visitor.”

Michael wanted to ask but didn’t want her to know he was interested, thankfully Miss Xavier wasn’t expecting anything from him.

“Now, I will be here with you the entire time,” she continued, “So if you want him to leave you tell me. Alright?”

Worry filled him, “Why would I want him to leave?”

Miss Xavier took his hand, “He is coming to explain why you were brought here and I know that it will be a great deal of information that might be a little overwhelming.”

Looking down at their hands for a moment, Michael nodded.

“Okay then,” she placed a kiss on the top of his head before she let go of his hand and moved to the door. Michael watched as she spoke to someone just outside. All he could make out was the person was tall and felt relieved that Miss Xavier was staying.

“Michael,” she stepped back into the room, followed by a man who towered over her and looked slightly familiar, “This is Zaman Druce.”

Staring at the tall man, Michael finally said, “I know you.”

Druce nodded, “I was the one who caught you before you fell off the docks.”

“Oh,” Michael said, frowning slightly as a memory tried to catch his attention but it disappeared suddenly, “Thanks.” He paused for a moment before asking, “Why are you here?”

Druce nodded slightly before he said, “I’m going to talk to you about why I brought you here and didn’t leave you back in London.”

Michael turned to Miss Xavier who sat on the bed at his side. Nervously he slid his hand under hers.

“It’s alright, Michael,” she said softly, taking hold of his hand, “I’m right here.”

Assured she had a hold of him, he turned back to Druce, “Why did you?”

“You are very special, Michael,” Druce stated, “Despite where you were living, your intelligence is exceedingly high. Now you’re here then you will be trained to use that in ways you never thought possible.”

“What he means,” Miss Xavier took over, “Is that he brought you here so that you can use your gifts to help people.”

“Thank you, Miss Xavier,” Druce frowned before he continued, “We are called Time Masters and we are charged with a solemn duty of policing the timeline to ensure it remains safe from all threats.”

Miss Xavier patted Michael’s hand, “We’ll be right back,” she said before motioning Druce outside. The door didn’t close properly, and Michael moved closer to listen in.

“He is a child,” Miss Xavier snapped, “A very scared and confused child who has had his entire world changed recently. Try to remember that while you talk to him.”

“I am aware of his age,” Druce replied, “But he is also in the top five percent…”

“I know,” Miss Xavier cut him off, “I know exactly how intelligent that boy is. He is brilliant, and he will do incredible things once he has been trained. But for now, he is ten years old and from Victorian London. Gauge your information to what he understands here and now.” She paused for a moment before adding, “I assume you are intending to sponsor him.”

“That is why I came.”

“Then treat him as a mentor,” Miss Xavier told him sharply, “He is not a cadet being given a lecture. Talk to him, not at him.”

Mary took a quick breath before she turned back to the room seeing Michael scramble back to sit against the pillows. She gave him a comforting smile as she took her seat at his side again. Offering her hand to him, happy when he took it.

“Michael,” Druce said as he entered the room again, “I brought you here so that you can learn amazing things, and to let you help people in a way you never would have been able to before.”

Mary watched the flicker of interest in the boy’s eyes.

“Once you’re deemed to be healthy,” Druce continued, “Then Miss Xavier will take you to the Refuge, I believe you’ve already seen it.”

Michael nodded slightly.

“After you’re settled,” Druce continued, “Then I will show you the Time Master Academy and precisely why you were chosen to become one of us.”

Mary watched Michael closely as he processed this, relieved when he simply nodded again.

“Time Master Druce has to return to work now,” Mary said, dismissing him, “But he will visit you again.”

Druce frowned at her before he smiled slightly at the little boy, “Behave for Miss Xavier and I will see you soon, Michael.”

With that said he left the room. Mary rolled her eyes slightly at him. Turning back to the boy sitting on the bed she gave him a warm smile.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly at Michael’s puzzled face.

“Is it true?”

“What?”

He bit his lip for a moment, “That I can help people? That I will be something good.” He paused for a moment before reciting, “That I’m not just a piece of street trash and no one will ever care if I live or die.”

“Oh, Michael,” Mary cupped his cheek making him look at her, “You are not trash and you are going to make a huge difference in this world. You will help people more than anyone will ever know. You will do magnificent things.”

Surprised that he was letting her see him this vulnerable, Mary wrapped Michael in her arms and held him.

*********************************************

“Today is the day,” Katya said as she walked in the room where Michael was trying to work out how to pack all the things he had into the small bag, “You’re leaving me.”

Michael shrugged slightly, “You can come visit.”

“You know that sounds like a good idea, especially since I hear you’re getting my old room,” Katya chuckled.

Before he could answer the knock came on the door letting them know that Miss Xavier had arrived.

“Good morning, Michael,” she gave him a warm smile, “Katya.”

“Hello, Mother,” Katya hugged her, before stepping back, “I will leave you to finish packing and see you before you leave, Michael.”

As Katya left, Miss Xavier stepped over to the bed and shook her head, “This is not very well done, is it? How about we repack and then we can go.”

Michael stood and watched as she unpacked everything before repacking the case perfectly, he gave a slight frown and Miss Xavier patted his cheek.

“I’ll teach you another time how to pack properly,” she told him, picking up the jacket from the bed and handing it to him.

Sliding it on, he took the small bag walking out the room for the last time.

Reaching the reception, he saw Katya standing waiting for them. She crouched and pulled him into her arms. Michael froze for a second before he relaxed into the hug. Katya had been so good to him for the past few months, looked after him, read with him and made him laugh.

“Okay,” Katya said as she pulled back, “I need you to promise me that you will listen to Mother…Miss Xavier. She is going to make rules that you might not like but they are for your safety.”

He nodded before asking quietly, “Will you visit?”

Katya smiled, “Of course I will. Give me another hug.”

Mary watched Michael hug Katya, happy to see that she had made such a positive impression on the little boy.

“It’s time to go to the transport, Michael,” Mary spoke up.

Katya gave Michael another quick squeeze. Letting him go she smiled, “I’ll see you both soon.”

She watched the little boy take a deep breath when they reached the exit, obviously still nervous about the world outside the centre.

“You can take it,” Mary offered her hand, “If you want. I won’t tell anyone.”

Michael didn’t look at her but took her hand, allowing her to lead him to the transport. She was relieved that she wouldn’t have to come back here to see him. Although it was slightly easier now to get him onboard since they’d made the trip a few times, Michael was still nervous, and Mary could feel him squeezing her hand tightly.

They reached the Refuge and Mary led her new charge to the house. Now he’d been here a few times he knew where everything was and instantly started upstairs to his room.

“Alright,” Mary said as they stepped into the room and she placed a bag on the bed, “Now that you’re here permanently, it’s time we go over the rules.”

She instantly saw a spark of rebellion in his eyes, but Michael said nothing.

“Number one, you will keep your room tidy,” Mary told him, “Number two, you will do any, and all, chores you are assigned when you are meant to do them. There is a chart in the kitchen which you have been added to. Number three, all the other children here are now your siblings and I expect you to treat them with respect. Any disagreements are worked out with words, and nothing else.”

Michael was silent for a moment before he asked, “Is that all?”

“No,” Mary replied, “I expect you to follow all these rules, Michael but I promise you that no matter what you will never be sent to sleep without your dinner. And you will never be sent away.”

He dropped his eyes.

“Michael,” Mary said sternly, “Please look at me.”

Slowly he raised his head until his eyes met hers.

“This is your home now,” she told him, stroking his hair, “You are always welcome here and, if you apply yourself, as well as keep out of trouble, then you will be able to go to the Time Master Academy. There you will be able to use that brilliant mind of yours to be the amazing person I know you’ll become.” Silence sat between them for a few minutes before Mary kissed the top of his head, “Unpack your things and set up the room the way you want to. Dinner will be in one hour and I expect you to be in the dining room on time to eat with us all.”

Just as she was about to leave Michael asked, “What if I’m not?”

“I told you,” she said, “You will never go hungry, Michael but if you don’t join us for dinner then you don’t get the full dinner. Instead there will be a sandwich for you to eat.”

Michael nodded, “I’ll be there for dinner.”

Mary gave a small smile and kissed the top is his head, “Welcome home, Michael.”

#RipWeek #RipWeek 2020 #ripfic #legends of tomorrow #fic #rip hunter #mary xavier #time masters #day one

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friendlyfrat-boy · 4 years

Text

The Straw-Hat Among Us Ch.4

Purple: Caesar Clown

Caesar knew it was him from the start. It was obvious, really. Terrible acting aside, Caesar couldn’t honestly believe such an idiot believed them foolish enough to simply let him slip by.

The only thing that made Caesar feel any sort of remorse for Teach’s death was the very last few things he’d said. Not the stuff about wanting to live or anything, no, he thought about that part where he covered up his discovery of the body. Everything he said, no, confessed had pretty much been proven. He was the only one strong enough to toss a stiff like that, he had good motivation for doing so…

All evidence pointed to this being the case.

But nothing proved that he actually killed Shanks. That was all just speculation.

Oh well. Teach was still an unpleasant bastard, so the only real reason Caesar might regret his death was that it lowered their numbers. The fewer people out and about, the fewer the witnesses. Not that he trusted anyone, anyways.

Oh, except for Doffy. That man right there was a man of quality, alright! While everyone else ran around with their pathetic little meagre intellects, Doffy sat with his legs crossed, grinning at them with the amusement only someone of ridiculously superior intellect could deserve. The kind of intellect Caesar himself possessed, in his own non-humble opinion. That was also why they got along so well.

Until now. “I don’t see why this should be such a big deal! He was obviously some manner of suspicious, who cares if he didn’t actually kill him?”

Doffy shook his head, folded fingers covering his mouth. He wasn’t smiling. “Whether he was suspicious or not is entirely uninteresting. What’s the fun in killing a mere human?”

Caesar wrinkled his nose, absently pouring the contents of a beaker into another. “It isn’t supposed to be fun, you know.”

“Oh, well,” a feral grin crossed Doffy’s face, “don’t tell me you’ve never imagined what they might look like on the inside.” Caesar’s hand stalled to a stop in front of a little canister of aluminium powder. “Don’t be ashamed of it! Imagine those insides, crawling with unknown substances and peculiar cell formations... Perhaps they are not carbon-based at all, instead being of the elusive silicon-based sort? Oh, the possibilities!”

Caesar clicked his tongue. “You’d cut up a man if his heart happened to be in the wrong place.” Still, he couldn’t help but agree. Cutting up an alien like that…

A shiver ran down his spine.

Shaking his head, Caesar returned to his experiments.

“I don’t trust Zoro.”

Caesar turned to look at Doffy. “-Why not?”

The blonde man shrugged. “He’s got a lot of freedom. If he’d like, he could come and go wherever and whenever, and we couldn’t be able to so much as object. Wires to connect.” He paused for a moment, thoughtful. “Then again, trusting anybody at this moment might be the most foolish thing a man can do.”

Caesar startled. “Y-, yeah, of course! Shirororo, imagine believing anyone in this place could be trusted! Truly foolish, I say!”

“Indeed. Not even I am exempt from doubt, despite my own-,”

Psssh. Someone was using the Disinfection room.

Giving Doffy a little glance, Caesar turned around to see whoever would come out. Doffy, who had so far been at the little desk in the far end of the small Medbay, stood up and walked up to where Caesar stood. They waited a few moments, staring at the very same closed door.

Footsteps rapped against the tiled floor. And then, it opened.

White suit and white hair. “Disinfection working properly,” Smoker noted, stepping out of the tiled room. His eyes met those of his observers. “What are you two lookin’ at?”

“N-, nothing! Just… you didn’t happen to see someone else while coming here?” Caesar asked. Really, it was unimportant, but knowing where everybody was kind of calmed him down. It was Kizaru’s duty and all, but how could he possibly trust that slow man? In that sense, he trusted Smoker a bit more, but only a little bit.

Smoker’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t see anybody, no. I and Zoro are the only ones about at the moment.” He took a step closer to them. “Not that we’re the only suspicious ones around here.”

One could hear a pin drop.

“Hey.” Somehow, Doffy’s voice carried enough authoritative intent to keep Caesar from even attempting to utter a word. “Let’s not go about hurling allegations like sledgehammers in glass houses. Isn’t that right, Smoker?” He didn’t even hesitate to return Smoker’s glare.

Smoker glanced away. “Tch. Fine.” He stepped past them, through the Laboratory and towards the exit. There, he stopped, and looked back at them over his shoulder. “But don’t think you’re automatically absolved of all guilt because you stick together.”

With that said, he left, leaving the two arguably most intelligent men on the expedition alone. They turned to each other.

A brief bout of doubt flashed through their eyes as they regarded who might be their future killer.

Time passed oddly calmly. Not much actually happened. The first three deaths had been a blur, each dying right after the next, but now… Now, there was a moment of respite, where nobody died and nobody wondered if another might be plotting their demise. Caesar took this calm the same way a man might understand an aggressively silent woman, namely with great fear and panic.

Knowing who was alive and dead calmed him more than not. At this very moment, everyone but he and Doffy could be dead and stiff without them knowing, and there was no way for them to-,

Or… there was. In the Office. “Um, Doffy?”

“...Doffy?” the man questioned, obviously unprepared for any use of the nickname.

“Oh, uh, n-, no! Doflamingo! Doctor Doflamingo!” Caesar said, throwing his arms in erratic patterns to try to explain his point as plausible as possible. Doffy didn’t seem impressed. “I-, um. I’mverysorrypleasedon’teatmyface.”

“Fufufufufu… Fuuffuufufuu!” Doffy laughed, throwing back his head. “Amusing! Do go on, sheep’s head, do go on calling me that… that little nickname of yours. It is… quite imaginative.”

Caesar almost wanted to object. “Oh, okay, um. Doffy, could you come with me to the Office? I’d like to check the vitals of all members collected.”

Doffy stared at him blankly before breaking out into a smile. “-Why, how clever! It slipped my mind entirely!” He quickly hopped to his feet, striding towards the door leading outside with little fear. “To think I hadn’t even considered doing so…”

“H-, hold on!” Caesar put a hand on Doffy’s shoulder. “Let’s-, let’s go through the Specimen room! It’s safer that way, and Smoker did say he fixed it up. Might as well, no?”

Doffy regarded him for a moment before nodding. “Another clever insight. You’re just full of them, aren’t you?”

“Heh, well, I am quite intelligent~” Caesar happily boasted, scratching his neck while a goofy grin took hold of his face.

All the way through the padded hallways and tiled rooms, they met no one. Not a single soul lingered in those halls, and Caesar knew why. The one person who had business there, the only one interested in what was kept here, was Teach. It had been his duty to sort samples and whatnot, and lacking him, this entire room and the Disinfection needed to pass through it was the Notre Dame without the Hunchback.

The Office wasn’t quite so empty. Two pairs of eyes met them as they stepped into Administration. The green-haired man decided to speak first.

“We saw you coming,” Roronoa said, his only explanation being a pointed index at the green holographic in front of him.

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye on everyone,” Smoker added, arms spread wide as he leaned over the table showing where everyone was. Or, if Caesar remembered correctly, it didn’t actually show where they were per se, but only where there were people and how many there. As far as Caesar could see, There were four in Admin, two in O2 and one in Security. “What brings you here?”

Caesar easily stepped passed them, entirely uninterested in whatever they had to say. “None of your business, repairmen!”

Before Caesar had left entirely, he heard Doffy explain with glee how they were about to take a peek into the pulses of all members gathered. It didn’t make much sense to Caesar. Why the hell should they have to explain anything to lowly repairmen? Furthermore, even worse, how come their well-read voices had the same influence as-, as Usopp’s?? That boy couldn’t spot a danger if it so kissed him on the nose!

“Come on, Doffy, let’s go,” Caesar growled.

“Coming!” Doffy replied, giving an oddly-placed cackle as well.

The repairmen, still inside Admin, continued talking about something else entirely, namely about how they had to choose whether or not to assume Teach was truly the imposter, as either assumptions held different weight and implications going forwards. Although Caesar hardly thought it was their place to consider such topics, he let them be. They had important things to do, after all!

He and Doffy soon found themselves in the western part of the Office, where one could swipe their card or check vitals. They were there for the latter.

Nothing unusual. All pulses were regular, along with their numbers. three people were still dead, no more, no less.

...Though, having less people dead would be a bit more worrying than having more people dead.

“Oh, well. Nothing to see he-,”

Everything turned red as a horn blared, a number popping up in the corner of Caesar’s helmet counting down from one minute to… something.

His heart almost stopped. “Wh-, what the hell-,”

“It’s the Seismic Stabilizers!” Smoker called out with the kind of alarm only a person assured of their demise could possibly muster. “Run to the damn shuttle!!”

“I’m not taking any order from some-,”

Caesar could say no more before Doffy grabbed the collar of Caesar’s suit and dragged him outside, towards the Shuttle. D-, Doffy, what are you-”

“Don’t say one more fucking word,” Doffy ground out, putting a stop to any rebellious needs within Caesar. It didn’t take long to get to the Shuttle, but Doffy didn’t head there. He went for the side, towards the entrance of the Laboratory. He didn’t enter though, instead dragging Caesar over to the large structure keeping earthquakes from destroying the entire expedition. “Fuck, this was Teach’s profession.”

Thankfully, the task itself wasn’t too hard, simply press your hand against a screen, and wait for someone else to do the same thing on the other structure.

In the corner of his helmet, the number hit 30.

Red lights continued flashing, the siren continued blaring. 20 seconds.

“D-, Doffy, should I-,”

“No.”

15 seconds. The lights flashed. “Doffy, someone has to-,”

“Stay. Right. Here.”

10.

Sirens blaring.

“Doffy!”

“No.”

“What the hell is-,”

Doffy ground his teeth.

And…

And nothing.

A little blue light on the screen flashed, signifying that everything was alright.

They hadn’t died. They lived.

“Shi-, shirororororo…” Caesar laughed meekly, trying desperately not to think about the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

“Well, back to work, Cae-,” and the next moment, Caesar threw his arms around Doffy.

“We-, we live! We survived, Doffy!”

Doffy stammered for a moment, too surprised to react. And then, a tender little smile found its way onto his face, unlike any smile he’d smiled until now, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah, we did.”

“You two done fooling around?” Smoker asked, arms crossed.

“Geeeeee Smokeeer, no need to be so meeeaaaaan!” Kizaru commented, poking Smoker’s head, perhaps some form of odd punishment. It seemed surprisingly effective, considering the way a vein throbbed on Smoker’s forehead.

“Cut that out!” Smoker growled, slapping away the older man’s hand.

“Ooooohh~ scary~.” With his piece said and done, Kizaru floated off towards the West Wing, uninterested in whatever happened next.

Zoro seemed more interested. “The cowardly pair aren’t here?”

“Usopp and Buggy?” Doffy asked rhetorically. “No, not in the least. They should still be in O2.” Caesar nodded affirmingly, fully attesting to what Doffy said. Zoro was right in wondering where they might be. Even if Caesar hadn’t been dragged outside by Doffy, he would easily have gotten panicked enough by the blaring sirens to run outside anyways. “You don’t think…?”

Zoro stared at them, eyes sharp. “If someone did this to distract us, something might very well have happened to one of them.”

That was all the group needed.

All of them ran into Electrical, passing by the security office and continuing down into O2.

“M-, maybe we should’ve helped out?...”

“Hey, we’ve got things to do! And the sirens stopped, too, so they probably figured it out.”

“Yeah, I guess-, GARCK” Usopp flew from where he’d been standing, dropping to the ground as all four people ran inside O2, completely unannounced. Caesar panted, not used to this kind of exercise, even though they had only been running for, oh, a minute or so, tops. “S-, STOP DOING THAT, YOU’LL GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK!!”

At least both Buggy and Usopp were alright. Caesar breathed a sigh of relief.

“Everything alright? You seem… frayed. Like, in the nerves,” Buggy said, cocking an eyebrow.

Caesar frowned angrily. “No, we’re not okay! Why the hell didn’t you-,”

The lights went out.

Darkness fell upon the room like a descending bird of prey, placing all six crewmates in a cocoon of nothingness. A few panicked gasps rang out along with a whimper whose owner could only be Usopp. It was so black, so dark. Caesar could see nothing, not even an inch in front of him. Everything was simply black.

Black, and dark, and gone. The air felt full. Full of breaths and voices and panic. Tangible, suffocating panic. His breathing quickened. He could feel it. How his diaphragm moved and spasmed. Uncertain, unclear. There were so many people in that room. And yet, Caesar felt alone. Alone and vulnerable.

He gasped, stumbled back, and hit someone. Someone behind him. They grabbed a hold of his shoulder. Was it to keep him steady? Make sure he didn’t fall over? Or-?...

A row of sharp hungry teeth sank into his neck, twisting through the thick rubbery fabric, piercing the skin and rending the flesh and cracking and crunching and pulverizing bone, his windpipe wasn’t even crushed, simply severed, alongside the rest of his neck, but not all of it, no, a single part of it, a sliver, kept his head attacked, his dead, uncertain and blind head.

He gave a blood-filled sputter and collapsed to the floor.

His killer shuffled away from his lifeless, empty, gazing body.

#smoker #one piece #fanfic #among us #usopp #kizaru #caesar clown #buggy the clown #doflamingo #marshall d teach #zoro #shanks #marco the phoenix

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saint-patrice · 5 years

Note

Tbh I would like to have the 34 *other* Bergy pics on your shortlist, complete with commentary lolol. And then (if you’re still waiting that is) any other Marchy pics with commentary? xD xD

oh my godddd you are my favourite person anon - ask and ye shall receive 😎 i should maybe warn that while this doesn’t have actual nsfw content you probably wouldn’t want to read this to your kids as a bedtime story. anyway, here we go:

this was very close to making the original list. i like the soft lighting and the kind of floofy hair, yet he still looks like he could absolutely fuck me up (both like in a fight and various other ways). this photo gets me thinking some thoughts ™ if i am being honest

a literal saint and god amongst men right here. his brown eyes are so soft and his little smile puts me at ease. this is a man who would treat me right (fact). this photo is also from quite deep into the playoffs so the beard is going a little wild, and whilst i’m glad it isn’t like this all of the time, i very much appreciate it when it’s around.

O CAP’N MY CAP’N (sorry zee). nah for real this exudes some real sexy alternate energy. if i were on the opposing team and i saw this formidable man just skating around looking like that i think i’d just go back down the tunnel and hide in the locker room. this man will fucking kneecap you for the sake of a goal if that’s what it takes. and then i remember that it’s patrice and he’s the nicest man alive and he would literally never, but that’s still the energy this image has. and i ain’t saying i don’t like it.

okay this is just cute. they look like 2 dads who aren’t entirely sure how to take a selfie but are willing to try. the outfits lend this a slightly chaotic energy - i can’t commend zee’s colour combo if i’m honest, and when juxtaposed with the plaid shirt it kind of hurts my head. but it adds to the dad energy so i still love it. also this is from chara’s ig and the caption is super sweet.

DADS WITH THEIR KIDS ALWAYS GETS ME. i don’t even want kids, nor do i particularly like them, but seeing a man with his child is the cutest thing in the world and this, predictably, is no exception. patrice’s son 100% has his eyes which is really cute. speaking of patrice’s eyes, he may be smiling here but if you look into his eyes all you will see is fear - that child does not appear too bothered about remaining upright on the ice, and i suspect thay bergy is concerned about this. it would be criminal for me to not comment on the jeans. bergy has some exceptional thighs as these jeans do an excellent job of highlighting that.

this is Hot, and i’m not accepting criticism on that opinion. the crisp white shirt w no jacket or tie, and the top buttons undone???? i need a lie down. the hands are also making a nice appearance which i can always appreciate. basically what i’m saying is that i’m jealous of that snake this is an excellent photo and i owe the bruins instagram person a drink for posting it.

do you remember when i said bergy had marvellous thighs? well take a fucking sip babes - they’re like tree trunks carved out of carrara marble. if i have to die i want it to be because they crushed my skull. this is also one of the clearest photos i’ve seen of his tattoo, so it has that going for it too ( sidenote if anyone has an image with literally a pixel of his tattoo pls send it my way, i’m getting desperate at this point). i also think men in jewellery is a good look so i’m digging his beaded bracelets and silver chain. fantastic picture all round.

yeah okay there’s no escaping that the main reason this one made the list is 🍑. it’s exquisite. those pants also do a great job on the thighs too. the hair, socked feet (no i dont have a fetish i just think ppl in their socks with no shoes is kind of funny), and hands get an honourable mention

is this the only picture that has ever mattered? i’d believe it. patrice just lovingly gazing down at his son giving his hockey husband a handshake? you just can’t beat it. i have also been emotionally ruined by that tiny #37 jersey oh my

in the interest of being polite, i will describe this look as rugged. he has probably objectively looked better but i just like this photo and awful lot.

i don’t think i can give any commentary on this without saying something genuinely not suitable for public eyes. the 2 things i will say are: the only thing keeping me going completely feral horny looking at this is those pants,, if they were black or navy i’d be dead; and patrice i am begging you to do up a few more buttons on your shirt or remove it completely or i’m not going to live much longer.

oh man i just love this??? i can’t even explain why. the lack of much beard and the expression in his eyes just makes him look massively soft - i would give him a kiss on the nose and a cuddle in this photo

(gif via @gaudreau) i am slightly loathe to admit this bc it sounds weird but cuts and bruises can sometimes be a real look so this checks that box for me. his smile when he talks truly is one of the finer things in life too. also the lil shrug. i love you mr pikachu

a** fantastic **angle. this is just prime beautiful bergy. excellent level of beard imo, the lighting shows off his v nice bone structure, and the nose is looking fab as always. weird observation of the day is that his neck looks nice in this

i mean obviously this had to go in - lord knows it’s fucking iconic. i have so many questions about how this situation came to be (aside from the fact that alcohol was involved. did brad initiate it? or patrice? why are they spinning? what the fuck? how the fuck? why was i not invited?) but anyway, this photo increased my thirst for a shirtless bergy photo at least two-hundredfold. at this point it’s a need not a want. i don’t think i can continue to comment on this without straying into nsfw territory so we’ll leave it at that. oh the things i would do

classic humble patrice making an appearance here, reminding us that he is not only the most handsome bastard to ever walk planet earth, but he’s a great guy too. just can’t hate him. and boy is he handsome in this gif. excellent stubble (im really invested in his facial hair if you hadn’t noticed), and the smile that could melt even my cold heart on display here. also bonus points for the previously mentioned thing about cuts/bruises. (sorry). i love this one

in contrast to some of the prior ones, this picture is so cute that i can make nothing but pg comments about it. this is exactly the same face we all make when someone points a camera at us and says “cheese!” and i love that. the man looks good in white. good, wholesome content right here.

(gif via @weekendatbergysblog) okay the baby is cute but the fucking headband is what gets me in this. i’m able to make no further comment because this short circuits my brain.

(gif via @davidpastrnut)when i first saw this gif i had to go find the source video because i didn’t believe he actually said that but i’m here to tell you: he did. i love these hockey husbands so much. also i saw this tagged as “# hot waiter” one time and i still haven’t got over how accurate that is. someone more talented than me, i’m begging you for that fucking au

(gif via @gaudreau) can patrice please stop looking up ??? it’s unfair that someone can look so good just looking in a direction what the fucK. he’s so stunning.

i love this one. brad pulling his hoodie down like that looks like he’s... soliciting and honestly who could blame him. bergy looks very cute, if a bit edgy in the all black. the hand is a treat in this one hooooooooooooooooo yes

this one show’s off patrice’s dark features very well. it’s amazing how he has such dark hair, dark eyes, big dark eyebrows, and dark facial hair, yet it doesn’t overcrowd or shadow his face ( except occasionally in awful lighting) ??? does anyone actually know how that works?? he’s looking very pensive here, and that hoodie looks oh-so-cosy. absolutely would cuddle.

**how cute is this y’all. **in case you thought you were just missing something, no, patrice is not sitting on a chair. he’s just maintaining that deep squat like a champ. maybe that’s the secret to his sublime thighs... the navy/deep red is an excellent look on him, and we get a rare glimpse of bergy with his wedding ring, which i find to be oddly cute. bonus points for him being beside a very cute kid too :)

(gif via @jakedebrask) this, i, ummmmm. i- uhh. just. um. yeah. so like. uhhhh... swiftly moving on

(gif via @davidpastrnut) this motherfucker and his handsome fucking face even looks good in that god-awful wooly patriots hat. honestly it looks like he’s about to go out and have a snowball fight (presumably with brad). decidedly rather domestic and i love it

(gif via @davidpastrnut) intense media patrice is intense. this is such a classic bergy face though, i love it. every time some media person asks him some big long question he puts on this exact very-invested-and-slightly-concerned face, its iconic. looking cosy in a hoodie once again. stop it.

nice polo, dude

(gif via @davidpastrnut) that tshirt looks like its fighting for its life to contain those biceps. a dark, brooding patrice that has some sort of slow burn au stirring deep in my mind. from other angles in this interview the tattoo is fairly visible also.

this has such a strong energy it almost knocked me off my feet. again, i can see this being some sort of business or maybe criminal masterminds au. but fuck me, does that man looking something beautiful in a suit. the one hand in the pocket is quite frankly BDE too. i’m glad i’m not into dadkes or esle i think this whole picture would be too much for me.

he is literally the kind of man you’d want to bring home to your parents. i’m glad he seems to have cashed in on the navy/deep red combo because it really does suit him. he looks so fucking dapper here i may be very much in love

another excellent on-ice shot of him, albeit his slightly concerned expression. the beard is looking fucking crisp here hello sir. not much else to say on this, just a handsome, handsome boy.

(gif via @jeffsamardzija) another one that gives me Thoughts. he’s literally so beautiful. hair is cut a little shorter than usual on the sides and on anyone else it would scream fuckboy but i’m kind of digging it on bergy, at least on this one occasion. if i say anything else we’ll go down the rabbit hole

oof this is_ intense. _bergy aside, this is just an incredible shot tbh. rare that we get to see mr perfect not completely level-headed and playing it cool so it feels like a treat when we do. lowkey hot ngl

last but very certainly not least, mr patrice bergeron, four-time bergeron award winner, holding the award itself. this photo honestly just makes my heart swell a little with pride - it’s what he deserves!!!! just absolutely dapper in a beautiful suit as always, and a smile that could topple a nation to round it all off.

thank you so much for this anon!!! it was rather self-indulgent but i hope you like it :) also i will absolutely do another one with marchy, although my nails have been dry for about 2 hours now so i’ll probably do it tomorrow or friday, but it’s on its way :)

#i will credit gifs in a minute #im on desktop so i need to look them up #i'm sorry this turned into a literal essay holy mother of fuck #its literally 2k words #answered #bruins #Anonymous #bruins photos compilations #bergeron

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yeet-or-be-hawed · 5 years

Text

Hunters of Flesh and Money Part 1

Okay guys, this is another big one I’ve been planning for awhile! This one is going to be based off my online character and experiences. I’m honestly not sure how many parts they’ll be but I promise they’ll be lots of good Arthur content! I hope everyone enjoys!

“Knock knock, anyone home?” You called as you entered the threshold of the cabin. You knew better than to come around unannounced, for both parts of the couple knew their way around the shotgun they kept.

Sadie was sitting in the corner cleaning the shotgun while Jake was cleaning in the kitchen. She stood as you entered. “Ah, Ms. Fletcher it’s so nice to see you!” She sat the gun down on the chair and wrapped her arms around your shoulders. You smiled as you returned your hug.

“What brings ya up here this close to winter?” Jake called from the kitchen.

“You know better than to try and navigate those old roads this time of year, they’re almost unrecognizable from all the snow fall! You coulda killed yourself.” Sadie chastised. You wondered if it was a choice for them to not have kids, Sadie acted more like your mother than a friend even from day one.

“Aww hell, y’all know I can handle myself out there, this’ll be my last trip up til the thaw I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do for y’all before I can’t come back for a coupla months.”

“Just here for work eh? What a shame, you’ll miss some of Sadie’s cookin’.” Jake knew exactly what to say to make you stay. You settled into your seat and smiled.

“I’m never here just for work, I also gotta make sure my favorite family is okay every now and again.”

Sadie laughed and stroked the firearm in her hand. “I don’t think you got anything to worry about there, missy.” She sat down the gun and took a seat at the kitchen table across from you. Her face was soft and sweet, the kindest woman you had ever known, and her husband was just as kind. Even from the first time you met the young couple you were drawn to them, now you made it a priority to see them as often as you could.

Sadie enjoyed your company as well. Living a solitary life in the mountains like this doesn’t come with much of a social life, so she looked forward to your visits. She knew Jake did as well. He never complained but he wasn’t born into this life like she was, she knew he had to enjoy your company just as much if not more than she did. “So,” She started. “Tell me about what you’ve been into lately.”

Your horse grunted as you pushed her excitedly, the snow had melted quite a bit since your last visit months ago, but this part of the mountain had snow year round. You were anxious to see the Adlers, it took you longer to get here than expected, bounty hunters crossed your path and kept you moving all across the land, unfortunately moving you farther southeast than you planned. The trip to Adler ranch was longer and harder than you originally had hoped.

As you pulled over the ridge looking Adler Ranch, your heart dropped. The place was burnt to the ground. “Yah!” Your horse sped down the hill at your command and you jumped off before she could even come to a full stop in front of the skeletal remains of the cabin. All that was left was the brick chimney and a few support beams here and there. Your chest tightened as you investigated the property. Whoever did this did it long ago, you felt guilt bubble up, maybe you could’ve stopped whoever did this if you had fame any earlier. As you looped around the burnt house, you found nothing. Any tracks that would’ve been left were long gone. As you approached your horse, a foul smell entered your nostrils. You knew the smell well, and your suspicions were confirmed when you lifted the tarp off the wagon. You had to hold back the bile that jumped up your throat as the putrid smell hit your nostrils and your eyes examined the puffed up corpse on the wagon. It had been decomposing for sometime, the face was unrecognizable, but you knew it was Jake by the wedding band on his swollen finger and the clothes that swaddled his body. You sighed heavily. “Oh Jake, what happened here?”

You grabbed your work gloves from your horse and pulled the bandana around your neck over your mouth and nose. The deadweight was heavy, even being out in the deep wilderness he still had some meat on his bones. It took more effort out of you than you hoped, but you got the corpse off the wagon and onto the tarp and wrapped it up carefully. You then went and retrieved a spade from the old work shed. It wasn’t the first or last time you would have to bury a close friend.

Arthur stood against the wagon patiently as he waited for Mrs. Adler to collect the supplies from the list he had given her. Would she prefer Ms. or Mrs. now that her husband has passed? Arthur wondered to himself. Best not to ask, he decided. Sadie was a firecracker of a woman, and to be honest it scared Arthur just a little bit. He was glad to finally see her coming out of her shell though, he was afraid she would stay the feral terrified woman they found in the mountains just a couple of months ago. He realized that it was the first time he saw her smile while she was reading Pearson’s letter. He allowed himself a small smile, maybe he could coax more smiles from her in the future.

The bell from the shop door pulled Arthur from his thoughts and out Sadie came, looking smug as hell with a shop boy following behind her struggling with all the supplies. Arthur has to hold back his laughter as she barked commands to the young man, he was almost trembling with fear by the time she sent him running back into the store. “You ready?” Arthur asked. Sadie went to respond, but was cut off.

“Mrs. Adler is that you?” Both Sadie and Arthur turned to see a woman dismounting a large horse, Hungarian Half Breed if Arthur was thinking properly. “Christ Mrs. Adler it really is you!”

Arthur’s hand cautiously hovered over his pistol, he could see plain as day the weapons strapped to your back and sides, along with the bandolier and gun belt full to the brim with ammo. He thought you looked like trouble, but the thought dissolved as Sadie’s eyes lit up and she ran to the dirty woman and wrapped her arms around her tight.

You felt tears prickle in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around Sadie. You had lost all hope of ever seeing her again. “What the hell happened?” You asked as she released you. “When the thaw came I headed up to the ranch, what the hell happened up there?”

You studied her face, even though you hadn’t seen her in only a few months it seemed like it had been years. Stress had aged her and her eyes looked dead. She had dark bags under her eyes and her hair was a mess tucked under a straw hat. Her face twisted in pain and darkened at your question. “Some bastards came through and ransacked the place. I hid out in the barn for a few days but... but my Jakie...” her voice cracked and for the first time Sadie Adler looked very small and frail to you. You wrapped your arms around her again and patted her head. “I know Sadie, I know. I found him and gave him a proper burial.”

She looked up quickly and you could see the tears in her eyes. “He had a certain spot he wanted to be buried, I never-“

“He wanted to be buried back with his family, I know. I took him there, he’s where he wanted to be.” Your voice was soft as you softly stroked Sadie’s hair.

A small sob broke from her chest and she clinged to your sides. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

You smiled and put your hands on her shoulders. “You can dry those tears and you can let me buy ya a decent meal.” You eyed the big man standing behind Sadie. Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Are you safe? Is this man touchin’ or hurtin’ you at all?”

“No no, he’s a friend.” She sniffled and raised her voice from a whisper and turned to the man. “Arthur, come over here!”

The man approached cautiously, you caught his hand moving away from his pistol and took mental note of it. You weren’t sure about him just yet, but if Sadie trusted him he had to be a good man. “Ms. Fletcher, this is Arthur Morgan. He and his gang helped me out when the O’Driscolls came.”

You shook the man’s hand. “O’Driscolls eh? I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“It’s a pleasure Ms. Fletching. Don’t worry bout them O’Driscolls they’re some mean sons a bitches. And they’ll do worse to women than what they’ll do to men.”

You dismissed him with a wave, “I can handle myself. I’ve dealt with those milksops before.”

Arthur chuckled, “oh really? We may just have to getcha to stick around.”

Sadie barked a short laugh. “Good luck with that.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow and you laughed while you rubbed your neck, “yeah, I ain’t much of a people person. Sadie and Jake were the closest ta friends I had but I appreciate the offer. I don’t think you want the price on me head followin’ ya neither. Now, why don’t I treat y’all to a meal?”

“Sounds perfect, it’ll make up for all the food I’ve fed you over the years.” Sadie joked.

You smiled, “yer right, I’d say I owe you bout a thousand meals by now.”

Arthur stood in disbelief as the women walked away together arm in arm. He had barely coaxed a single smile from Sadie after two months of traveling together and all it took was one look at you and she’s been smiling ever since. He shook his head and followed behind the women powerlessly. You turned your head back just for a moment to give a short whistle. The big black and white horse whinnied and galloped beside you. It was strapped down with furs and skins from all kinds of different animals. A turkey strapped to each side of the horse with a black bear pelt on the top of a huge pile of various deer, ram, and fox furs. He wondered just how long it took you to collect so many pelts. The saloon was just across the from butcher’s stall. You stopped at the front of the steps and grabbed your horse’s reins. “I gotta take this here load on over to the butcher to sell. You two go on in and find us a seat I’ll be right behind ya.”

Sadie gave a full bellied laugh at a joke you had made and Arthur smiled into his beer mug. Having a familiar face brought out a whole new side to Sadie that he had never seen. This side to Sadie was nothing but familiar to you. This was the Sadie you knew. A bright woman who had a heart full of love and a belly full of laughs. The three of you spent a good portion of the day drinking and laughing in the saloon. Arthur cleared his throat. “So, how did you ladies meet?”

“Well, I was huntin’ some elk up near Colter and a terrible blizzard came through. I couldn’t half see my horse in front of me. I didn’t even know I was stumblin’ around Adler Ranch until I almost ran smack into the house. I made my way around to the door and let myself in.” You laughed. “Little did I know that was a huge mistake. I made it three steps in and I felt the muzzle of a gun on my back. Turned around to see Mrs. Adler with a scowl mean enough to curdle milk.”

Arthur laughed this time. “Oh, I’m sure. When we first found her, she was on the verge a killin’ Micah.”

You smiled at your long lost friend. “Good on you, Mrs. Adler.”

“Oh please, Fletcher call me Sadie.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever you say, Mrs. Sadie.”

Arthur looked at you, “You got a first name Ms. Fletcher?”

You raised a brow at him. “I do, but I ain’t givin’ it to ya. You can just call me Fletcher.”

He turned to Sadie. And she shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t look at me like that, she didn’t tell me her name either.”

Arthur huffed. “Best friends and ya don’t even know her first name?”

You shrugged. “Who needs a name? She knows me and that’s all she needs. If you would like me to have a name, call me whatever you please.”

Arthur sighed. “Fletcher it is then.”

You smiled triumphantly. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan.”

“It’s Arthur.” He paused and looked out the window of the saloon. “It’s gettin’ late, I should get Mrs. Adler back to camp. We ain’t too far from here, any friend of Sadie’s is a friend of ours and you’re welcome to stay with us.”

The three of you stood and headed out the door. Sadie and Arthur climbed in their wagon and you mounted your horse. “That’s a very generous offer, but I am afraid I will have to decline. I’ve got a camp not too far from here, I’m better off on my own.” You started off, then turned back around. “Before I go, Sadie I want to stay in touch.” You pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something down. “Write me. I get all my mail sent to this alias.” You handed the piece of paper to Sadie and nodded your hat towards Arthur. “You two have brightened my day, and I thank you. Keep in touch, maybe we can have another day like this soon.”

And with that, you were off. Sadie scanned the name on the paper over and over, Peony Van Butrick III. Classy, just your style.

#hunters of flesh and money #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur x reader #red dead online #rdr oc #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 spoilers #sadie adler #van der linde gang #red dead redemption 2 #multi part #rdr online fic

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Seventy-Seven: Under Control ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Hanabi, Uchiha Itachi, Hyūga Hiashi, Uchiha Fugaku ] [ SasuHina, blood, death, vulgarity ] [ Verse: Divine Light ] [ AO3 Link ]

The raids have been happening for decades.

Anyone of el’ven blood is at risk. While most have gone into hiding after the collapse of the elemental council, some don’t...or can’t. Their el’kor cousins - those without the blessings of the elements incarnate - far outnumber them. While many find obscure lands in which to hide and eek out a feral living...not everyone can follow in their footsteps.

Hinata’s family had been living in a coastal city. Her father, employed by an el’kor fisherman, worked under the radar: his secret for his skills. Few other ships could manage the catches of their vessel with a mage of water aboard. And while some grew suspicious, they kept hidden for a number of years.

The sisters’ mother, Hanako, kept them closely guarded at home: not the beautiful manor they’d had before the Rift, but a step above squatting in a shack. Hinata and Hanabi were content most days - both were far too young to remember the time before the fall. This was all they had even known.

This went on for years...until the guard caught them.

Dragged back to his home, Hiashi was forced to his knees, blade at his throat as the squadron of soldiers confronted the family.

But it wasn’t just soldiers that came. Among them were beady-eyed, callous-handed men who stank of filth and spirits.

...slavers.

Too desperate for her husband’s life, Hanako did not fight. And her daughters, young and untrained, were easy pickings.

“Hm…” Taking the woman’s hair in his fingers, the obvious leader ignored her shiver of disgust. “She’ll fetch a fair price at a brothel. Get her bound and take her to the docks.”

“No, please - my daughters, I -!”

“They’re no longer your concern,” he cut in, lip lifted in a sneer. “They’re a bit young, yet...and if they’re aqua mages, they’ll have their uses...we’ll take them inland, sell them to someone who needs their ven.”

Two of them then moved to grab the girls. Both took to kicking and screaming, desperate to get away. “Mama! Mamaaa!”

“Quit your yappin’!” the ringleader barked, taking Hinata’s wrist in a painful grip. “Little bloodbinding’ll get you under control…!”

Teary-eyed with fear, Hinata couldn’t suppress a scream as a knife cut into her palm. Dipping a pricked finger into the blood, he drew a strange symbol on her inner forearm.

It burned like hot iron, glowing a bright white, then fading to black...then to nothing.

“There now…” Giving a cruel grin, he spat, “Sit!”

Like her legs were cut out from under her, Hinata sank to the floor with a painful thump.

“Good, good...now, the younger brat.”

Hanabi’s shrill shrieks of pain and terror soon followed, both girls branded with their own blood. Huddled together, they watched, shaking as they moved to Hiashi. His head was bowed, heavy with the weight of his family’s fate.

“Now...you were making your employer a sound profit with that ven a’yours,” the slaver muttered. “I reckon someone else’ll pay handsomely to have you. Make back what we gave that bastard to sell you out, eh…?”

Looking up with icy eyes, Hiashi had no retort.

“Bind him.”

Bringing the blade from his neck to his arm, another slaver made to cut Hiashi’s flesh. But that left his captor vulnerable for just a moment. With a roar, the patriarch summoned a wave from the nearby harbor with all the strength he had in him. It crashed against the dingy seaside home, bursting through windows and crumbling parts of the wall.

Though both daughters screamed, it did not reach them.

Struggling to control the element, Hiashi made to drown his foes...but they were many. Though swept aside, a few guards behind him through the doorway made to regain their footing.

One was wielding a pike.

With its longer reach, he struck the steel through Hiashi’s back.

Giving a cry of agony, his hold on the water was lost, seeping back to the ground and slithering to the sea. Around him, several of the slavers were already drowned...but the leader remained, sputtering and hacking.

“That whoreson…!” he retched, shaking water from his form as Hiashi struggled to cling to life on the floor. Giving the el’ven a furious kick to the ribs, he spat on his body. “Just cost me my profit, you bastard! You’d best hope your daughters fetch me some shiny gold pieces, or they’ll repay me in other ways…!”

Choking through blood, Hiashi stared past the slaver’s legs to his daughters huddled in the corner. Unable to speak, his apology went unuttered, shown only in the regret in his eyes.

Shivering and sobbing, they watched as the life left him.

“Get them in t’fucking cart! We’ve wasted enough time.” Stepping over Hiashi’s corpse, he made to leave, his remaining man hauling a girl up under each arm.

That was a week past.

Sitting in the rear of the cart with several other el’ven children, Hinata holds Hanabi to her side, gaze distant and unseeing. They’ll soon reach the city where they’re to be sold. All she can hope for now is that they’re bought together: a matching set. If she loses her sister…

Hanabi dozes fitfully, twitching and whimpering. Sparing a hand to pet at her hair, Hinata has little else to offer against the nightmares. Even now the visions of their mother being hauled away, and their father’s murder are fresh in her mind.

She doubts they’ll ever fade.

But before she can ponder anything else, there’s a desperate whinny from the horses. The cart jostles, stirring the children from their collective stupors. Shouts break out...and Hinata can smell smoke.

“Nata, what do we do?!” Hanabi cries, clinging to her sister.

“Just...h-hold on!” Holding her close, she moves to the back of the wagon with the others. Abandoning the moving matchbox, they get a full view of the scene.

Fires scatter over the roads, other carts in the caravan ablaze. The slavers wield bows and blades, attempting to fight off people in the trees that line the road. Fiery arrows are shot with deadly accuracy: hitting both human and wooden targets.

Then several people come from the trees, wearing masks and clothed in cloaks. Fire bends to their will, and Hinata can’t help a gasp

Those are igni mages…!

The children huddle together, joined by others from the remaining carts. While the ambush plays out, several figures move toward them: the same masked, cloaked people. Two women gesture for calm. “Don’t worry! We’re here to get you out! Stay still and quiet, little ones - you’ll soon be free!”

Holding her little sister tightly, Hinata can only watch as the fighting slowly comes to a stop. Bodies litter the road, great black plumes of smoke rising from the carts, horses scattering as they’re cut loose.

“Sasuke?!”

Among the children, one boy cries out. “Brother!”

Another el’ven, barely older than the eldest among them, races forward to meet one of the children. Alongside him, one of the women kneels to embrace them both. She must be their mother.

Others then gather, removing their masks to reveal faces set with red eyes. “Keep calm, children,” a square-jawed man rumbles. “We will gather the bodies, and use the blood to undo your seals. Patience.” He then joins the reunion, and Hinata can’t help but guess: they must be the leaders of this band of rebels...here to free one of their own that was taken.

If not for him...they surely the rest would…?

Identifying their sealers, the children are, one by one, released from their blood bonds. Cries of relief fill the air as Hinata and Hanabi join those unbound.

“We will do our best to find ways to get you back to your families,” the leader, called Fugaku, announces. “Those who have none to return to...we will find you new homes.”

“Please, sir,” Hinata inquires in a hoarse whisper. “Our f-father, he was...he was killed! And our mother was taken, I k-know not where!”

“Stay calm, little one. We’ll do what we can. But for now, we’ll all retreat to our camp. You all need food, and water...and rest.”

Nearby, the one called Sasuke sits closely with his brother, clinging to him as Hanabi clings to Hinata. Noting the parallel, she hesitantly approaches. “Are...are you all right?”

He gives a weary nod. “...I knew they’d come for me…I knew they would…”

Looking to his brother softly, the older then lifts his ruby gaze to Hinata. “...you are disciples of Auquiana, are you not?”

“Y...yes.”

“Then surely you came from the coast...there are few of your kind here.”

“We have to find our mama!” Hanabi cuts in, earning a sympathetic glance.

“...we’ll try to help you find her. But first, we must organize. We did not expect so many other children to have been captured…”

“So...we’ll stay with you…?” Hinata dares to ask.

“For a time. Our resources are limited - we hide here, in these woods. We must be careful. But our scouts will try to return those we can home. Anyone else...we will find new homes for.”

“But our mother -?”

“May be difficult to find. Our kinds are trafficked all over the lands,” Itachi cuts in firmly, but gently. “...we will do our best. For now...you should rest. The next few days will be trying. Stick close to us. We’ll keep you safe.”

Doing her best not to cry, Hinata settles down beside them, holding her sister tightly. They’ve escaped one tragedy...but can they escape the rest?

.oOo.

Welp, this...isn't really what I wanted this to be, but I'm honestly exhausted @~@ I had a really...not great day, and writing just isn't really happening well today. But I tried. So in another era of my original fantasy verse...this happens. The elves are forced into hiding, and many are captured by humans and forced into slavery of various forms. The era I've written up until now with this challenge is a long time after this - decades and decades, when things are again beginning to change. I've wanted to do some pieces with this particular setting. I just...didn't get to do the best job of it this time around OTL Sorry, guys. Anyway, it's not exactly...shippy, but I might be able to do more another time to get more into that. I try not to let these get too long, and I'm too tired to do so tonight anyway. But either way, I hope you enjoyed it - thanks for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #hyūga hanabi #uchiha itachi #hyūga hiashi #uchiha fugaku #blood //#death //#vulgarity //#divine light [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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jojotier · 5 years

Note

write some Tsukishima and Koito personality swap

(This is horrible. The worst request. I wrote it anyway. It’s 4k words. Fuck you)

There was something electric in the air that morning. It was the kind of feeling that preceded battle, the thrill of the kill so close at hand. It was the feeling of stark blood red against white snow and white clothes and snow-white purity, staining the blank canvas of the world with the color of his valour and their blood. It was a chill up a spine, nerves and neuroses firing into empty space- the coming storm, the hairs on feral hairs standing to attention in the din of silence.

Yes- change was coming, quick as the marching soldier along his path and just as striking.

Well, that was certainly an odd feeling, Tsurumi mused silently to himself. Last he checked, the only thing he had scheduled that day besides some paperwork and the general maintenance in checking up on his inner circle including a little trip to a hot spring.

By all accounts, it was an utterly typical morning when he walked in. Nikaidou was the first that he saw, and then Usami was the next. Nikaidou seemed to be doing well enough for himself, adjusting the prosthetic on his right leg as he chatted to a passing soldier.

… Hm. That was funny. Tsurumi had a feeling that the prosthetic was on the left, for some odd reason. But that couldn’t have been right, because there was Nikaidou, hand resting at the place where his stump of a right leg met the ingenious prosthetic that Lord Arisaka had so graciously given him. Brushing the feeling off, he went to greet them, holding onto the pink paper encasing the sweets with a somewhat tighter grip.

“Good morning to the both of you!” Tsurumi smiled, setting the box down in the middle of the table between them. Usami, predictably, startled the moment that Tsurumi made himself known, eyes widening to a degree not dissimilar to a doll who didn’t have any eyelids to blink with. Tsurumi did not find this comparison unsettling in the least and wondered how anyone could be unsettled by poor Superior Private Usami, who looked more like an excited animal the longer he received attention for his merits and his- ahem- creative failures. “And how are we this morning, hm?”

“F-First Lieutenant!” Usami squeaked a little, bristling to attention nigh instantaneously. Tsurumi smiled at that- it was always nice to be appreciated by such willingly loyal men… “First Lieutenant Tsurumi-san, it’s great to see you!! We were just talking about when Koito’s getting back,”

“Ah yes, the Second Lieutenant…” Tsurumi hummed, thinking on the assignment he’d sent the boy on. This was the second assignment he’d been sent on alone, after his utter failure with securing Shiraishi Yoshitake. It was both an intelligence-gathering mission, and a mission to secure the next convict’s skin- but most of all, it was a second chance. Koito Otonoshin was quite lucky that Tsurumi recognized his eagerness to please, and that a little over half of the male relatives in his extended family made up a good number of political positions in the Meiji government.

[The Meiji government itself would not have existed had that fateful Battle of Toba-Fushimi in January of 1868, wherein forces from Choshu and Satsuma defeated the ex-shogun’s army, not started the Boshin War. Satsuma remained a large player in the war and one of its leaders, Saigo Takamori, would go on to become one of the great nobles of the Meiji Restoration, before he went off to become leader of the Satsuma Rebellion years later.]

[After the war, many Satsuma men were placed in positions of office within the Meiji government.]

“Have you gotten much word on the status of his mission?” Tsurumi asked congenially, always happy to see that business was being conducted as usual. Usami finally turned to face him, a wide smile on his lips and a blush on his face that accentuated the little stick figure tattoos on his face, forever running away from each other, but never able to get farther…

Hm… that wasn’t right. Tsurumi was absolutely sure that he’d drawn those figures to be running towards each other.

Normally he might chalk this up to Usami getting the tattoos done incorrectly, or the tattoo artist not knowing what he was doing. But that was exceedingly unlike Usami- and if the tattoo artist had done it incorrectly, Tsurumi likely would have had to deal with a dead body.

The feeling of something not quite right settled in his stomach, bubbling like hydrogen bubbles at the core of a bomb. It lay in wait, quietly staining his insides with the incoming chemical explosion, as Tsurumi thought that perhaps he should pay more attention. Perhaps something had gone with Koito’s mission, at the rate this odd day was going.

He only caught half of what Usami had said, but he had the gist of it. “- coming back to give you a full report, sir! Apparently, he found some stuff he wanted to speak to you about…”

“I see.” There was still a chance that Koito had succeeded, and was waiting to present the skin. Odd, though- Usami didn’t seem to phased while relaying this information. Usually, Usami said Koito’s name with an amount of venom, some jealousy- just a result of both of them competing to win the most of his favor. But right then, Usami seemed totally nonplussed to think that Tsurumi would be speaking with Koito at length, alone. “I’ll need you to get Sergeant Tsukishima, then. Send him into my office, will you?”

And interestingly enough, it was at Tsukishima’s name that Usami balked, face twisting with a murderous gleam coming to his eye. “Are you sure, sir? I thought this would be a… lone meeting, with the Second Lieutenant.”

“It will be,” Tsurumi said, eyes narrowing. Yet another surprise- it wasn’t often that Usami had the audacity to speak up against him. Thankfully, Tsurumi knew just how to put him back in his place- with a quick, well-timed grip, Tsurumi gripped Usami’s chin and pressed harshly on his cheeks. “But I need Tsukishima nonetheless. After all, you wouldn’t want to get in the way of what I’m thinking, would you? Or else I may just need Nikaidou to bring me another pen…”

Usami melted almost instantaneously like putty, cheeks flushing red as Tsurumi’s words sunk in. The superior private tensed, shaking his head as much as he was able to in Tsurumi’s vice-like fingers. “N-No! Not at all, sir- we’ll get Tsukishima right away, sir-”

“If he’s even awake, the lazy bastard,” Nikaidou snickered in a way that suggested this was a true fault he was making fun of. It privately caught Tsurumi off guard, but it could just as easily have been a practical joke of the man’s.

“Well, you heard the First Lieutenant!!” Usami said, voice slightly high pitched and shaky, “Get Tsukishima up, no matter what!”

Tsurumi delicately asked, “Has anyone checked on the Sergeant’s wellbeing?”

Usami’s mouth fell into a pout as he tried to nuzzle into Tsurumi’s hand. Tsurumi held the superior private deathly still, mostly because the idea of that little stick figure tattoo looking like it was trying to run towards his palm was a little weird. “Nooooo… but you know him best, so…”

“I should check on him,” Tsurumi mused as he tried to pull away. Usami tensed, holding onto Tsurumi’s receding hands.

“No! There’s- no need!!” Usami said, giggling nervously. “Besides, the Second Lieutenant is here, and-”

Tsurumi’s eyes narrowed further, but he decided not to question this. “Alright, then.” He dropped his hands, but leaned his face closer to Usami’s. “But know this- we’ll be revisiting this at a later time, Superior Private. I look forward to our next talk, when you’re feeling a bit more… amicable, towards your superior.”

“O-of course!! Please, do what you’d like,” Usami said, puffing out several shallow breaths as he stood stock still, like a hare in sudden lanternlight.

“I’ll be in my office- tell the Second Lieutenant that I’m in,” Tsurumi said, turning away. “And make sure Tsukishima comes to me as soon as possible.”

“Yessir,” Nikaidou said, nodding. Tsurumi went over to open the package of sweets- dango and tsukisappu pan, mostly- and took out a second empty package within it. He filled it with some of the sweets and took it with him, snacking gingerly on a stick of dango as he went. Such an odd day… and it was only just beginning.

Tsurumi supposed he should have expected Koito to show up first, but that didn’t stop him from being slightly disappointed when he arrived before Tsukishima. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the Second Lieutenant’s company- he was quaint, in his theatrics and his zeal, and oh-so-useful- but it was likely that the barrier of language would be a bit of a problem. Unfortunately, those thoughts were halted when Koito stepped into the room.

Gone was the usual dizzy smile on his face, and gone was most of Koito’s hair. Now Koito wore a military issue buzzcut and serious expression, both kept as neat as neat could be. Koito bowed politely at the waist, and most surprising of all, spoke clearly. “First Lieutenant.”

“Second Lieutenant Koito,” Tsurumi acknowledged, trying to keep his surprise to himself. “You seem well this morning.”

“Yes,” Koito said, clipped, as he stood back up and crossed the room.

“Did you do something new with your hair?” Tsurumi asked mildly, nudging the box of snacks towards the Second Lieutenant. “It looks good.”

“No,” Koito said, and most shockingly, he wasn’t reacting like Tsurumi expected. In fact, he wasn’t reacting at all- there was no acknowledgment of the complement beyond a momentary ghost of a smile, there one moment and gone the next. There was no string of words. There was nothing.

“I see,” Tsurumi said, eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, I’d like to wait for Sergeant Tsukishima to come in. It’ll do us good, I think.”

Somehow, Koito’s blank expression grew even blanker, more unimpressed. “If you say so, sir. Shall I start some tea, if we’re waiting on him?”

“That sounds wonderful, Second Lieutenant.” When Koito stood up, Tsurumi couldn’t see even a hint of trembling or outward nervousness. It was as if a fine veneer of stoicism had tamed Koito into a well-behaved machine. “Would you like something to eat? I’m sure that you’re famished, after your trip.”

Tsurumi could work with this.

What Tsurumi had his doubts on was Sergeant Tsukishima, who almost stumbled into the room with all the grace of a sack of potatoes.

Now, this Tsukishima was far different- the military buzzcut was slightly growing out, lots of stray tufts of black hair sticking up just the slightest bit and a patchy shaving job leaving him with a bandage underneath his mouth. When he bowed, it was graceless and jerky, low to the ground. Tsurumi had thought it strange that Koito spoke in such a low and smooth voice- but that was nothing compared to the emotional dissonance of hearing Tsukishima practically yell.

“HERE, Tsurumi-san-! I didn’t know you were here yet, but I do now, so we can start whatever you need!”

Tsurumi was so floored for a few moments that he could only stop and stare at the eyes of his right-hand man and closest advisor, nearly groveling on the floor with his eyes practically pinched shut, as if waiting for a blow. Near the electric kettle, Koito let out a nearly inaudible sigh and reached for a third mug.

“Pardon me for a moment,” Tsurumi said, getting up. “I just remembered that I left something in the other room. Help yourself to some food…”

He stepped out of his office and took a second to wonder, what the actual hell? As much as Tsurumi was prepared for all sorts of wild things, there was something so inherently wrong with seeing Tsukishima act this way that it made him balk for the first time in possibly ten years since he’d gotten his frontal lobes removed.

But he could work with this.

Probably.

He listened in and from the room, Tsukishima whined loudly. Glancing into the window, he saw the Sergeant sprawled out face down on the floor, giving a vaguely pitiful whine as he pouted. “Koitooooooooooooo….”

“No.” Koito deadpanned, closing his eyes in exasperation. “Don’t do that. And show some manners- address the First Lieutenant by his rank, will you?”

“I shouldn’t need to! He knows me!” Tsukishima rolled onto his back, hands rubbing his hair a bit as he kicked his legs out. “Ugh! The fact that I have to take orders from a literal infant is the worst- how are you even here anyway?”

“Success has no age, Sergeant,” Koito said, setting a mug of tea in front of Tsukishima.

“Well it should, and the age cap should be younger than me.” Tsukishima didn’t touch the tea yet, going limp once again against the floor. Koito sat gracefully and sipped his own tea, serene and calm in the face of his superior’s tantrum. Tsurumi had a feeling that they saw this as wholly normal. “And you keep having to tag along here! It’s been forever since I had time with the First Lieutenant, you know that? I almost lost an arm and a leg the last time! Koitooooooooooooo, why can’t you listen to these things?”

“I’m aware,” Koito said. “But then again… it seems as if the First Lieutenant has been acting strange lately, no?”

“No, it doesn’t.” Tsukishima stubbornly said, turning onto his side and lounging a bit. His uniform was supremely rumpled at this point, which wasn’t good since he’d apparently just woken up.

“He’s been a little dodgier than usual.” Koito continued, voice quiet and contemplative. “Something… may be on his mind.”

“He’d tell me about it,” Tsukishima said with the utmost certainty, a fire igniting behind his eyes. “Remember, he knows me- he knows me BETTER than you’ll ever know him! He tells me things. And he’s not dodgy! He’s just extremely secretive!”

“I see.” Koito said, holding a placating hand up, “Perhaps my word choice was not the best. He just seems… a little more distant.”

“… Maybe a bit.” Tsukishima ceded, chewing on his lip. “But that doesn’t mean you get a free pass to speak to him however you want! I’ll take it up with him after your report. He knows I owe him, since he saved me.”

Koito sighed. “Yes, from death row, I kn-”

“Not JUST from death row!” Tsukishima said, sitting up quickly in a flurry of movement, with eyes shining with pure adoration. “From everything! From Sado, from myself- he came in there and taught me-”

“Oh, God,” Koito whispered to himself, eyebrows furrowing. “Not again-”

“- made sure I knew how to live out here, with the rest of society-”

“This is the third time this week, please st-”

“- let me be truly worthy of calling myself his friend and ally!” Tsukishima was standing now, fists clenched as he gave his grand speech. Koito, having given up, sipped at his tea. Tsukishima’s singing of Tsurumi’s praises continued for two sustained hours, allowing Tsurumi time to go reprimand Usami (and bite off a bit of his fingertips for trying to start shit with Tsukishima), eat, and finish all the paperwork he had.

When Tsurumi heard it finish, he slowly opened the door a crack, peering inside. Koito got up and began making another pot of tea. Tsukishima looked expectantly to Koito, saying, “Well, that’s that- my and Tsurumi’s story. Didn’t it inspire you, Second Lieutenant?”

“I’m nearly weeping from the sheer beauty of it, sir,” Koito said, pouring Tsurumi a fresh cup of tea. “And I believe that the First Lieutenant enjoyed it too.”

Tsukishima gave a sudden shriek at that moment, choking off in the middle with a sound, not unlike a dying walrus. Yes, Tsurumi could, indeed, work with this, he thought as he swept into the room, grinning. “Apologies, boys! I was a little held up with some other matters for a moment there- but it was quite the riveting speech you gave, Tsukishima.” He dabbed at his eye, a hand coming up to his chest. “I believe I’m close to tears myself, hearing such kind words from an old friend!”

When Tsurumi took Tsukishima’s hands, Tsukishima held on tight, looking teary-eyed himself. “It’s the least I can do,” Tsukishima said, eyes shimmering, “with all you’ve done for us… Tokushirou, my closest friend…” And that’s when the mumbling began.

For a second, Tsurumi thought that his hearing had given out, or that he was hearing things- because the Sergeant’s mouth was moving, but barely any sound was coming out. And what little sound there was, it was so fast and mumbled with such a thick Sado accent that he could barely make it out. “Hm? Can you speak up?” Tsurumi asked.

Bristling, Tsukishima suddenly scrambled away from Tsurumi’s grasp, hauling Koito up by the uniform collar. Koito sighed and allowed himself to be manhandled, bending down when Tsukishima tugged on his sleeve and feverishly whispered, “Get down here!!” Then, Tsukishima started mumbling into his ear.

It was the most surreal scene. Instead of Tsukishima translating, it was Koito translating for Tsukishima.

“He says that you’re his dearest friend, and the dearest person he has in the world, sir.” Koito translated, knees bent a bit as Tsukishima stood on tiptoe to reach. Was it weird that Tsukishima seemed shorter than usual? “He says that while loyalty should have no definition, that his loyalty could be defined as following you to the ends of the earth, and doing anything in his power to ensure that you succeed. So please don’t be mad about the tatami mat.”

Tsurumi resisted the urge to ask just what in the hell Tsukishima had done to his tatami mat and instead smiled, fingers unclenching. “It’s no trouble! What are friends for if not to forgive? Besides… “ His grin grew impossibly wider. “You’ll make up for it, correct?”

Tsukishima mumbled slightly louder, and certainly more feverishly. Koito said, “Yes, he’ll do anything.”

“Lovely!” Tsurumi took his place behind his desk, taking a sip of tea. “Koito, perhaps you could find a way for him to help?”

“I can actually think of one, sir,” Koito said, straightening up. “It has to do with my report… and the convict.”

“I see.” Tsurumi settled in, smile growing wider. “Proceed with your report, then.”

Koito nodded and began. “The convict has exiled himself to Sado Island and is currently hiding along the beach. I know precisely where he is, and his schedule is easy enough to follow- it appears as though he is back to planning arson.”

“Maehara Akito, correct?”

“Yes sir.” Here, Koito hesitated. “I… did not go to capture him, sir.”

Tsurumi’s eyebrows raised. Well, this was new- the Koito he knew would have done everything without a second thought. “And why is that? If the reason isn’t sufficient, you know I’ll have to scold you…”

This Koito still winced a bit at the prospect, but he kept himself steady, looking Tsurumi in the eye. “Maehara Akito is fourteen years old, sir.”

“Is that so?” Tsurumi asked, humming. It certainly was odd- how had a juvenile offender ended up in Abashiri? “And you’re certain he had the tattoos.”

“Yes, I am. I saw him without his shirt, trying to wash his clothes.” Koito said, mouth ticking up just the smallest bit. “It didn’t look as if he knew how.”

“There’s not much known about his life outside the prison, yes…” Tsurumi thought for a moment, then asked, “Why didn’t you take him?”

“I…” Koito sucked in a sharp breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “… I thought the extenuating circumstances would need me to report to you first, considering Maehara’s age. I did not want to hurt him.”

“I see,” Tsurumi said, looking Koito in the eye. Such a trivial concern, in the end… That boy would have to be skinned one way or another, and if they didn’t, someone else was sure to do it. Besides, Maehara Akito had lost the right to be considered a child after those naughty, naughty deeds that he’d committed… “Second Lieutenant, tell me this- how many have perished in the fires that boy has started?”

“… Upwards of forty-two, sir.”

“And how many more will die if we allow him free?”

“…”

“Tsukishima.” Tsurumi called, and Tsukishima snapped into attention, hand coming up to salute.

“YES SIR.”

“Go with the Second Lieutenant to finish the job he started.” Tsurumi grinned wide, unable to stop himself. Such a fine mess Noppera-bou had made, bringing the very lives of children into it! But if the old fool had deemed these children fit to stand the fires of Hell, then the flames are what they would face. “Bring the boy to me. And while the Second Lieutenant recuperates, we will handle the skin.”

“Of course,” Tsukishima nodded feverishly.

“Sir, wait a moment,” Koito said, fists clenching. “That convict is still just a boy.”

“He forfeited the right to that title with his crimes.”

“He still has a chance to change.”

“This is non-negotiable, Second Lieutenant,” Tsurumi said with finality. “Tsukishima, be a dear and get Usami in here. I think the Second Lieutenant may need more help than he realizes…” The way Koito looked at him felt foreign, on the young man’s face. It was cold and blank, staring at him not with quiet humor or screaming admiration- but with open defiance. Tsurumi grinned, a few drops of cerebral spinal fluid dripping from under his mask. It was a challenge. A game of chess and wills. Tsukishima left the room, and Tsurumi said, “You are dismissed, Second Lieutenant.”

But Second Lieutenant Koito didn’t leave, just as Tsurumi guessed. He stayed standing, stock still, in the middle of the room. Waiting. Watching. Tsurumi sighed, and began to speak. “Sometimes, my friend, things must be done for the greater good…”

“I was his age when we first met,” Koito said, deathly quiet. “Isn’t that right? You’ve been so distant, so unlike yourself- surely you remember, First Lieutenant?”

“Of course I remember, Koito,” Tsurumi said smoothly. This truly was a delicate situation- despite the fact that this Koito had the same experiences as the Koito Tsurumi was more familiar with, he was also a little too withdrawn. A little too moral in his inexperience, with not enough of the carefully conditioned admiration. He was likely perfect for battle- but how could he use a defiant pawn on the field? He would be careful here and do his best to charm the Second Lieutenant. He’d done it once before, and he could do it again. “Which is why I trust you to understand- you know me, after all. You know what we must do to reach our goal…”

Before Tsurumi could continue, Koito interrupted. “I do know you. And I must ask… usually, you call me Otonoshin, when we’re alone. Do you truly trust me now?”

Tsurumi smiled. “Of course I trust you… Otonoshin. So please, hear me out-”

Koito shot him faster than he could blink.

It passed straight through his chest, staining the white uniform with red, red blood. As he brought his hand up to cover the wound, blood stuck fast to him like hot wax. Koito looked at him, cold, defiant. Tsurumi looked at his eyes and suddenly realized what was wrong.

The eyes that Koito had should have belonged to Tsukishima.

A Tsukishima downtrodden by his history and death row was tamed… but a Tsukishima who had grown up spoiled rotten, spoiled rich and rewarded…

Tsurumi had miscalculated.

Koito said, “I lied.”

As Tsurumi staggered towards his own gun, about to return fire, he blinked once, twice, and then sat straight up in his bed, unspoken Japanese curses still on his lips.

Moonlight spilled in from the window, casting shadows across the room and falling on a wicker crib against one wall. Beside him, the bed shifted, and a soft, feminine voice mumbled in sleepy Russian. {Kouichi…?}

Ah, that was right. Tsurumi wasn’t his name at the moment, was it?

Tsurumi mentally took on the name Hasegawa Kouichi and glanced over at the Russian woman, still turned away from him. She was unwilling to give up her position curled up on her side of the bed, pale hair splayed out on the pillows. Unknowingly, there was a smile curling on Hasegawa’s lips. {It’s nothing, Fina. Just an odd dream.}

{Odd how?} Fina asked, stirring just the slightest bit as she slowly lifted herself on her elbow. Her line of sight was still firmly towards the crib where little Olga lay, snoring as nicely as a little angel.

{Well, I think I was a capitalist, for one,} Hasegawa chuckled, rubbing his smooth, hairless chin. {And there were Japanese soldiers there…}

{Not like the ones who almost got us at the border that one time, right?} Fina asked laughingly, and Hasegawa could practically imagine the way her eyes twinkled.

{Shhh dear, we were never at the border… They can’t prove it was us.} Hasegawa said.

{Oh, oh of course- those canon thieves could have been anyone.} Fina giggled quietly to herself, before turning over. Eyes slipping closed, Hasegawa moved to press his lips against hers, to the pure agony of any person reading about it. {Mmm… Tokushirou…}

Hasegawa’s eyebrows furrowed as he opened his eyes. {How do you know that n-}

Usami stared back, creepy ‘owo’ face lifted from better, better thought out fanfics. “Sir, isn’t it a beautiful night~~~?”

Tsurumi nearly screamed as he scrambled up, looking around the room. He had woken up- a second time, apparently, which was just stupid- in his quarters, with the same furniture and blankets. His pressed white uniform was hung up, so bright in the morning sun that it made Tsurumi’s headache worse. Glancing at his bedside table, he still saw the half drunken bottle of Pincer Vodka.

He sighed and decided not to go drinking any foreign alcohol with Arisaka anymore.

#golden kamuy #tsurumi tokushirou #koito otonoshin #tsukishima hajime #golden kamui #my writing #fanfiction #crack treated seriously #vfjknvcb well!!! here you go

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