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#like yeah knives really did make that face when he saw the scars. and yeah he did scream in rage and grief when vash was slowly dying
dirt-str1der · 26 days
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Whatever
#and its the only listed entry for his relationships ?#does he not talk or interact with anyone else in the series ?#Trigun loveblog#he loves vash#damien do nooootttt read this this is spoilersd#it makes me smile so much that the entry is written like this because they could easily have said something like ...#'theyre siblings with an intense rivalry stemming from their difference in ideology' but no its straight to the point#like yeah knives really did make that face when he saw the scars. and yeah he did scream in rage and grief when vash was slowly dying#and yeah vash was the one who gave him the will to live again and yeah knives is the reason vash is alive#like seriously whatever#i mean of course vash is the reason knives lost everything and knives is the reason vash is constantly putting his life in danger#this and the way knives gently hands vash a gun and tells him to shoot someone in stampede is so funny#hes like whats wrong ? (gentle) go on and do it (reassuring) and when vash is shaking too much and lowers the gun hes like (fond sigh of#exasperation) i have to do everything for you. hes so funny he loves his brother#and what right does knives have to be calling vash his little brother in the manga. you two were conceived in the same instant chill ...#im just very glad that loving vash is one of knives core personality traits and the other is being evil. its not trigun if your brother#isnt about to burn the whole world down just to create paradise for the two of you. and i cannot get enough of how one sided it is at the#start like the first thing knives does after they crash land is to attempt to help vash stand. the second thing he does is beat the hell out#of vash because hes annoying and whiny. and vash has tried to kill knives so many times but in the end he just cant do it#knives has been on the other side of his barrel so many times and so many times vash would get mad at him and then fail to pull the trigger#its so cutee theyre beautiful twin boys ... exactly the same height ... sorry im just happy again that tessla is in stampede
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eshtaresht · 1 year
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holy. fuckin'. DAMN. I was pretty good at predicting the plot so far, but this episode proved that stampede is going in a whole new direction for real. spoilers for ep 9!!! (and manga a bit)
first of all, we still haven't got a full story of the great fall, but I think it's something they'll reveal in this season, probably during confrontation with knives. and still no scar reveal!! I'm angy but it's something that could be relevant to the standoff with knives, hope we'll get it
the piano scene... oh we're eating GOOD, it's just so wholesome but goes to confirm my theory that twins weren't completely fine on the ship. vash feeling useless because he can't do cool plant shit, knives envying vash for being good at human shit.... oh it's great
so glad knives is getting proper characterization and not just "he evil because he evil"! the fear, the hurt, the genuine care for vash, but then frustration with him – it's right there and I'm eating it up so yummy
the way they recontextualized vash's arm loss is GORGEOUS! I've seen ppl reading this scene differently, but to me it was an act of care from naï. he looks really scared for a reason: we see that the gate consumed all matter, including the hand. vash couldn't control it, so it would only grow bigger and destroy him. NAÏ REALIZED THIS AND SAVED VASH THE ONLY WAY HE COULD
he didn't want to fight him, this was not an act of anger, like in previous versions. all he cared about in that moment was saving his twin..... and what did he get in return? a gun pointed to his face. a gun he gave vash to kill human scum. oh, the DRAMA
ahem, now to the less intense stuff
homeboy has so much trauma, like, damn... how is he gonna fit any more from his impending epic brother fight...... I'm quite curious on how they're gonna characterize him in the next season. concidering that we're taking off earlier than previous versions, he might end up with the same unhinged vibe 98' vash had, as a coping mechanism (if depression didn't work, try dissociation and silliness). but then it would be even more interesting to see meryl's and wolfwood's reactions: they knew him before the accident and saw the big sad
vash has sense in the prosthetic arm, so it must've hurt when he damaged it... probably it hurts less than the real one, and it's clearly painless to take off. but the hand seems to be rather sensitive and fic writers are gonna go crazy for this
age reveal! also brad and luida being in cryosleep makes sense, I was racking my brain on how they're still alive. seems like they're using much more plant power tho... both for cryo and the vegetation, while in manga they tried to keep it as low as possible and send signals to earth
saw someone say that they're probably not doing that here because the earth is destroyed... could be that they decided to go the hard way. but in the manga the earth was still fucked, and it wasn't clear if they communicated with the ppl left on the planet or the fleet that was in some new place. what I'm saying is, there is a possibility that they are looking for help in stampede, we just don't know it yet
meryl was so cute! go off, comedy relief goofy girl, while you can, there is more trauma coming your way :3 yeah, enjoy roberto calling you by your first name... oh it would be such a shame if he gave you his derringer before his untimely death..........
pretty weird that nobody knows why they fell on no man's land, but ppl probably were too ashamed of their past and 150 years later the new generation is oblivious. also so funny that luida has to explain what vegies are..... they have so many plants but haven't see any plants
tbh I wasn't expecting the zazie twist at all, but I'm excited! they are SO gender in stampede, might be the best redesign in the series, love me a genderless bug creature with bold fashion choices. really cool to see that storyline adapted, it was barely touched upon in the last volumes of trimax
btw the multiple bullets story about a plant, worm and human who went around figuring out if their species could coexist and just.... creating this foud family and then building a town there all were equal...... that's my favorite mb story for sure
wolfwood saying "I'm not your friend"... I know what you are. and we got a "you'll have to decide one day"... oh oh the misery, but the context was lacking. it just doesn't hit the same when he isn't daring vash to shoot him in the most homoerotic way possible. on and he looks so goofy trying to ride with his cross
in the last ep's rant I assumed that luida lied about rem saving everybody for some reason?? but no, she actually saved them, I just got a bit confused
so, as I predicted, the gang separated (tho not because of vash) and by the end of the next episode vash'll be in july and meet naï. the poster, man.... that gorgeous futuristic city is getting obliterated for sure
btw vash's gate being opposite to knives and sort of a black hole is nothing new. but there are new layers to this, like vash willingly giving away energy, but destroying things against his will, and knives with the opposite of this. ying yan twins go brrrr
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heyitsjay03 · 3 years
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I saw request we’re open for RE8. Could I please have a fem! reader who tries to get rid of Ethan Winters because he keeps causing distress to her wife, Alcina? Please and thank you.
yes. yes you most certainly can have this.
i have been DYING to write about some alcina x fem!reader for the sole reason being that i have NEVER questioned my sexuality so hard since this damn game came out so yeah.
ps: wrote this in first person hope that's okay!
pps: there is some major plot deviation because.... i felt like it. idk. it fit??
DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own Resident Evil or its characters or plot. CAPCOM please don't come for me.
here you go love >:)
word count: 1.57k
"Girls!" I call, closing the door behind me. "My darlings, I'm home!" Shifting the grip on the parcel of items from the village, I look around.
Usually one of the girls would've answered by now. Bela is usually here to greet me.
She's probably with her mother.
I shrug off my fur coat, handing it to one of the maids. She takes it and lays it over the back of a chair. I can tell by the large, gnarled scar on her forearm who she is "Marienna," I mumble, staring up the stairway. "...where're the girls?"
Marienna's face pales as she stares back at me. Her mouth opens and closes like a trout. "Well?" I snap, "D'you know where they are or-?!"
A crash resounds down the hallway. Alcina's voice tears from her bedroom, followed by a shuddering sob.
I'm hurrying up the stairs in seconds, abandoning the parcel. My body collides with the door- forcing it open.
Our bedroom is destroyed- the vanity broken to pieces. Alcina's soft hands cling to the golden wood, thumb rubbing against the varnish. Slowly, her eyes trail up to me. A smile nearly as broken as the vanity crosses her painted lips. "...I loved this damned mirror," she mumbles, eyes turning down to the broken pieces again.
"What happened, darling?" I coo, stepping over the pieces to stand beside her. My hand on her shoulder, I turn her face gently towards mine. Tears are streaming down her face- leaving jagged streaks of mascara. "Are you alright? What happen-"
Alcina's body tenses under my touch. Trembling, her grip tightens on the wood. It cracks before being wrenching in twain in her hands. "It was that stupid manthing!" She hisses, standing back up to her full height.
"...what 'manthing'?" I ask, "Your brother?"
Alcina ignores me, leaning back down to pluck one of the larger fragments before throwing it across the room. "He laid his filthy paws on our daughters!"
My mind races as it struggles to understand what the hell is happening.
Manthing.
It's not Heisenberg. He'd never lay a finger on the girls.
Some brutish village slug- that's got to be it.
But why? Why on earth would they...?
It doesn't matter.
As Alcina leans down to grab another bit, I grab her hand. "...are... are the girls okay? Where are they?"
A shuddering sigh passes her lips. "...they're all together," she whispers, wiping tears from her face hastily. "Bela... she was... that disgusting beast, he nearly killed her!"
"What?" I mutter, eyebrows drawing together as I step back. "...what... well is she okay? What happened? Is she going to be alright?!"
Alcina sighs again. "...she'll be alright," her hand wraps around mine gently. "Her sisters found her. Brought her to me."
"Where is she now?," I ask, tightening my grip around her finger. "My baby girl... where...?"
Alcina smiles warmly, getting down onto one knee. Her fingers brush back the hair from my eyes. Tears fall quickly down my face as I realize what could've happened if Cassandra and Daniela weren't nearby. "She's with her sisters," she answers gently. "Resting... waiting for her mother to get back with the flowers and silk from the village."
A cold laugh passes my lips before I sniffle. "...her mother should've been there. Should've never left."
Alcina's face tightens. "You can't blame yourself, darling," she mumbles, turning my chin up so I can face her. "No one knew this... Ethan Winters... would be so hideously vindictive."
I nod slowly, wiping the tears from my face. "...can I see her?"
"Of course, my love," she says, leaning in to press her lips to my cheek. "Of course."
The two of us walk down the halls to the center of the house. 'Safest place for her' Alcina had told me.
She had spoken to me the entire way over here, trying to get me out of my own head.
Bless my beloved wife for trying.
But that name. It just keeps buzzing around my mind.
Images of my hands, covered in thick blood, gripping the handle of a sickle play through my head. The blade going through the jugular of this 'Ethan Winters' and popping out the other side. Him desperate for air, choking on his own hot blood, as he watches me loom over him.
His last words will be for mercy.
His last view will be my blade.
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My breath is bated as I watch him stalk through the darkness of the courtyard. In the moonlight, I can see is head is down, eyes wary as he keeps a fair grip on his pistol. The cool air lets me see him regulating his breathing- keeping him steady, keeping his pistol steady.
He's experienced.
My grip on my own weapon tightens as he stops in the gazebo. His eyes narrow as he turns around, his pistol raised. I watch in mild amusement as he whirls around, looking for something to shoot.
He's experienced, yes, but still not experienced enough.
I tug the fabric around my face higher along the bridge of my nose. Gripping my sickle, I balance on the balls of my feet.
Ethan finally relaxes, dropping his arms with his back to me.
A small smile creeps along my lips under the mask. A foolish move made by an even more foolish man.
My body slides underneath the stone railings for the stairs leading into the center of the courtyard. Untucking one of the smaller knives from my belt, I pinch it between two fingers and flick my wrist forward.
The knife goes flying- landing right between Ethan's shoulder blades. A guttural yell comes from him as he spins around to face me. In a blink, I'm up in front of him, nose brushing against his.
I can see the fear in his eyes.
I can't help my smile growing beneath the dark fabric.
Ethan raises his hand, pistol in his palm. With a tut of my lips, I shake my head and stab his hand through with my sickle. "...no, no," I mumble as he continues to scream and thrash against my hold. "There'll be none of that, I'm afraid, Mister Winters."
His teeth gritted, he hisses as my sickle is pulled from the inner part of his wrist. A bitter laugh bubbles up from my gut as he stumbles back onto the floor of the gazebo, now holding the pistol in his shaky left hand. "You can't be serious!" I giggle as Ethan pulls the trigger.
A wet squelch hits my ears as the bullet tears into my stomach. I sigh dramatically, looking down at the gushing hole in my dress. "You didn't think I was human- did you?" I ask, twirling the sickle in my hand.
"Wh- what?" Ethan mutters, eyes fixated on the bullet wound in my torso.
"I'm not," I continue, stepping closer to him as he tries to back away. Another gunshot echoes through the courtyard- the bullet landing in my left shoulder. "Not entirely, anyways."
"What the hell are you?!" Ethan yells, firing three more shots. One in the crook of my neck, one just barely grazing my temple, one lodging itself in my hip.
My jaw tightens as I hurry forward, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him back into the center of the gazebo. "I!" I snap, grabbing him again and gripping his wrist. "I... am the mother of the girl you almost killed!"
I pull another knife out of my belt. Trailing it down his lips, I smile. "And the wife... to a woman scorned." With a single swing, the knife digs into the flesh of his palm and nails it to the gazebo.
Ethan yells in pain. As I step back, his other fist cracks across my face. I stumble back. Grabbing at my cheek, I chuckle darkly. "Oh, Ethan," I coo coyly, grabbing my sickle. "You really shouldn't have done that."
I swing and watch with what could only be described as 'glee' as the blade pierces his throat. Covered in blood, the blade glistens crimson in the pale moonlight. Ethan's choked pleas are drowned out by my laughter.
"Why?" is the only word able to leave his lips without being smothered in a gush of blood.
"Because, Mister Winters," I hum, my nose brushing against his as I watch the life in his eyes flicker. "You should never have touched my family."
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BONUS ENDING:
"What is that delicious smell?"
I turn around to see Alcina bending down to peek outside. A smile crosses my lips as I gesture to the mutilated corpse with the end of my sickle. "Dinner, my love," I hum, wiping off the blade with the fabric I had used for a mask. "Sorry it's not the cleanest."
Alcina scoffs and waves me off. "It's fine, _________. I'll just go let the girls know their mother brought dinner...," she pauses, eyes flicking over the gushing body. "...who was that? He smells... familiar."
"Just Ethan Winters," I answer nonchalantly.
"...y-you..." Alcina stammers, eyebrows weaving together and lips pursing. "You... when did you-?"
"He must've been tired," I continue with a small smile. "He was not nearly as difficult a kill as I thought he'd be."
"...I'll... I'll be going now."
"Okay, love," I chirp, "I'll drag him in in a second. Love you!"
Alcina's eyes are still wide, mouth slightly agape as she steps away from the doorway. "...love you too... darling."
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can you tell i had a lot of fun with this?
yeah. because i did.
i hope you enjoyed! writing lady d is so much freaking fun i kid you not.
big vampy lady make brain go brr
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stargazer-balladeer · 3 years
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Them reacting to walking in on their s/o self-harming [Genshin Impact]
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Characters Included: Diluc Ragnvindr & Childe
Notes: i cried while making this- 😢 sorry if some makes no sense- hshsh- hope ya’ll like this.
Reader’s Gender: Neutral
Warning: trigger warning for self-harm and depressing stuff.
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“... [Y/N]..?”
he honestly doesn’t know what he’ll do, whether or not to comfort you. Seeing you pressing a blade on your wrist, right where your vein is made Diluc freeze. His eyes were wide and blank, staring at the sight of blood pouring out of the freshly-made cuts on your arm and on the pristine white floor. How was he supposed to react to that?
When he finally caught up with his mind, his first instinct is to remove the blade in your hands. He won’t say anything as he gently tries to comfort you by placing his other hand on your cheeks and rubbing it with his thumb. When you stare at his ruby-red eyes, you can see all of the emotions inside them, afterall the eyes are the windows to the soul, right? You can see sadness, shock, disappointment, anger and confusion all jumbled together. It was a mess, he was a mess and so are you.
You couldn’t help but cry in front of him, spouting out apologies after apologies. You couldn’t even understand what you’re trying to say, all you know is that you’re talking nonsense. Diluc stares at you sadly as he shush you gently, he doesn’t need your apologies, he just needs to bandage your wounds.
As he starts to treat your wounds, he notices some old ones as well, scars from your previous attempts. The mere thought of you suffering way before he met you made him wished he met you sooner to prevent this, but alas, even now when both of you are dating, he couldn’t tell you were aching inside. A failure of a boyfriend, he thinks. He didn’t realize how broken you are, despite all of your smiles and laughs, he should’ve seen the hint of sadness behind your smiles. He didn’t realize how you wore thick and long clothing, even on hottest days. Mentally cursing himself as frustrated tears began building up in his eyes.
“Why...? Why didn’t you tell me about this..? Don’t... don’t you trust me..?” Diluc’s voice soft yet so broken, his voice breaking up a few times with how much emotions he’s feeling in the moment. He was lost again, what can he do to make you feel better? Why didn’t you tell him that you’re going through so much pain? Don’t you trust him at all? Tears began leaking out of his eyes at the thought, you also crying at his question, mouth spewing out more apologies. But Diluc doesn’t want your apologies, he’s just wondering why would you do that to yourself?
When you explain to him the reason, Diluc wouldn’t utter another word as he just hugs you after dressing your wounds and bandaging it. His face on the crook of your neck as he sniffles, tears long dried. His hold around you is tight yet not so much, as if afraid that he’ll break you if he holds you too tight. In his eyes, you were fragile like a glass wine. He takes a deep breath, pulling away, putting your foreheads together and staring straight into your eyes filled with love-
“First of, I’m sorry for not being able to see through your smiles and see the pain behind them. I’m sorry for not being there when you’re at your lowest. I’m really sorry that you went through all that. I-.. I can’t erase all your pain and worry. But I can try. Lean on me, trust me, I’ll take care of you, your heart, your soul and your trust. Let me feel your pain and worries, let me in your heart. I promise I’ll try my best to ease the voices of your mind. Because I love you, and I’ll prove it to you over and over again. Don’t ever question my love for you.”
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“What do you think you’re doing?”
You can feel it, his eyes bore through your skull as you held the blade close to your chest, about to plunge it inside you. You can feel the heat his eyes are giving you, silently commanding you to put down the blade. Near the doorway, there he stood with crossed arms and narrowed eyes. The mirror reflecting his figure perfectly behind you, your hands started to shake, the blade slipping out of your grasp and onto the tiled floor.
Childe stares at the blade before turning his attention to you, his gaze sharp and his usual coy smile-smirk in a frown, almost a scowl. His bangs covering his eyes slightly, making his blue eyes glow and effectively making him look scary. You can tell that he’s angry, not at you but at what you did.
Mentally, he wished he didn’t witness what he just saw. He wished he could turn back time. But nothing can change what he saw. Why? When? How? Who? So many questions filled his head. Childe knew, a long time ago before he started dating you, that you have scars, scars from your previous self-harming. He thought you stopped. But it seems like his own judgement failed him, he now sees his mistake. He didn’t confront you about it. Now, he suffers the consequence on almost losing you.
He sighed as he starts to walk towards you, his hand reaching out to you. Instinctively, you flinched. His hand stopped before slowly wrapping around your neck, the other wrapping around your waist, hugging you from behind as he kisses your temples. If you look closely, his eyes are glassy. His heart thumping widely in his chest, you could almost hear and feel it, but this thumping isn’t what he wanted to feel. The pit of worry and fear deep in his guts made him anxious and even more scared. His hands began visibly shaking a little, as he chokes back a sob. Since when did he let his guard down? Doesn’t matter as he cries. His thumb rubbing your shoulder part and the other thumb rubbing your waist.
Hearing him struggle to contain his tears, you slowly started to cry as you spew out apologies after apologies. Your hands covering your eyes as you sob your eyes out. He could feel his heart break at the sound of your cries, his arms around you tightened as he squeezed his eyes shut. He shushes you gently as he lets out words that are incoherent and almost random. His mind jumbled so he couldn’t really think straight as he just spews out whatever comes out of his mouth- “hey, you’re okay, right?” “dont cry shhh” “zhongli would kill me if he sees you crying” “he might make me eat with chopsticks for the rest of my life” “I’m a fatui harbinger, the eleventh of the ranks, so why am I crying so pitifully here-“ (yeah,, even i couldn’t understand what he’s trying to say here-)
Childe would stay like that before letting you go and picking you up, bridal-style and bringing you to the bedroom. He lets you sit on edge of the bed before going back to the bathroom. After throwing the blade away (mentally taking note to hide all the knives from your sight-), he came back with a first-aid kit and started cleaning the wounds you inflict on the arms. Yes, you have wounds in your arms, which honestly scared him a little.
He doesn’t speak, neither did you. Silence surrounded you two as he continued to dress your wounds, eyes eyeing the previous scars. He can feel his heart dropping even more when he sees more scars in your thighs and such. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he bandages your arms. After he did all that, you were about to explain to him and apologize when he pulled you in a tight hug. His left hand behind your head and the other around your back, squeezing you slightly.
“I won’t ask why you did that, but I want to know who. Who did this to you? Was it your parents? Was it the people around you? Was it.. me? or... was it... yourself..?” Childe shakily lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry for not helping you through it when its my responsibility as your partner. I’m sorry for not talking you through it when I already knew it from the start and when I see the signs. I won’t promise that I’ll be able to take away all of your pain. But you can lean on me right? I might be a Fatui Harbinger, might’ve killed plenty of people and might’ve started a couple of fights, but I am your lover first and foremost. Above all else, your happiness and safety is what I cater the most. Well, you know, except for my family because well.. their my family. Anyways the point is, lean on me, believe me when I say that I’ll love and take care of you. Through the rest of our years, I’ll be your stone, I’ll be your shield, I’ll be your everything. Tell me all your worries and woes, I’ll listen to every thing. I do love and adore you, my [Y/N].”
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[x] Main Page
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Shield (one-shot)
Synopsis: To the new Captain America she might just be a human shield. But Bucky can see there’s more to it. What he can’t understand is why she stays.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Genre: angst, lil bit of fluff
Warnings: mentions of blood and guns, swearing, torture, low mental state etc.
Word count: 3591
I am going absolutely feral about the fact that a portion of the series takes place in Latvia as I am Latvian :D Just seeing the signs and streets (which are not really ours cause they filmed in Prague, but are similar enough I can envision it), especially because we’re such a small country is amazeballs, so to be in such a huge show with my MCU faves is insane. Had the same kind of reaction to Brooklyn Nine-Nine with Nikolaj and the Captain Latvia episode. Riga hammer for the win :D 
P.S. John Walker is not Captain America cause he does not posses America’s ass. Also Zemo is one hundred percent Bucky’s and Sam’s sugar daddy. I won’t accept any dispute over this.
P.S.S. please also remember - John Walker is a character not a real person. John Walker is played by an actor who is doing his job the same way the actor who played Joffrey did. Do not harass him etc. but rather appreciate the insane talent he has. This place is a Wyatt Russell stan place.
P.S.S.S. Kinda spoilers for the show so if you haven’t seen it, don’t read this.
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He hated him. Bucky genuinely hates him. He never thought he had despised something or someone so much, not even HYDRA, as much as he hated John Walker – the new Captain America. He wanted to scream at that, at the fact that this arrogant asshole was carrying Steve’s shield, the symbol of freedom and everything good, while in reality, he embodied none of what it stood for.
           Walker and what he’d learned his sidekick was Battlestar, had swooped in from a helicopter while Sam and he had been following the Flag-Smasher vehicles, and, well, they hadn’t been a lot of help, which he shouldn’t be too surprised about. But what he had been surprised about was when they’d all been thrown off of the semi-trucks and scattered all around a field, someone else had been in the mix as well. 
A young woman with Y/H/C hair and determined Y/E/C eyes was rushing towards them, screaming for them to stay on the ground. When Bucky looked behind, he could see why given how one of the radicalised people had jumped from the trucks and was barreling at them with an automatic cocked at them
           But it wasn’t Walker who jumped up running past her, shield at the ready to take on the fire. No. He just remained sitting as the stranger kept her pace. She leapt at the two with a grace of a cat, pushing him and Sam back to the ground and immediately got blown back by the received ammunition, gasps leaving her mouth as the bullets entered her body.
           Sam’s wings extended and created a body length shield as Bucky snatched one of the knives strapped to the man’s side and flung it with deadly accuracy into the Flag-Smasher’s neck, dropping him to the ground. 
           There was blood when he looked back. There was so much blood, and once again it was all over Bucky’s hands, and he couldn’t breathe properly, pressing down on her abdomen and shoulder and side, and. oh god, there were too many bullet wounds...
           Two wide Y/E/C eyes stared back up at him, mouth gasping down shallow breaths as he held down on her wounds trying to stop the blood from pouring out. God, there was so much of it.
           “Don’t close your eyes,” he gritted, his body trembling. “Well get you help. You’ll be alright.”
           But then Walker spoke up, and Bucky saw read because of a different reason. “She’s fine, just leave it.”
           His head snapped to see that arrogant bastard cross his arms as he hissed. “Leave it? She’s fucking bleeding out! She took those bullets for you, and you just want to leave it?!”
           Walker just smirked, nudging his chin towards her body. “You’ll see.”
           “You let her use herself as a shield while you did nothing!”
           “Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because that’s her whole point.”
           And that’s when Bucky felt her skin shift underneath his hands. Slowly the blood stopped pouring out, Y/N’s breathing evened, and her eyes closed not because death was calling, but because of relief as the regenerative cells kicked into high gear.
           Bucky gazed in wonder as the wounds closed up, and when only scar tissue remained he snapped his blue eyes to her, Y/E/C ones already staring back at him.
           “Who are you?” he whispered
           “A human shield that’s what,” Walker answered in her stead, but Bucky just sneered.
           “I asked who, not a what. She’s a fucking person.”
           Once more he looked back down and saw a strange look in her eyes. It was as if she was trying to decipher what those words meant, but once the shock from such a huge assault had ended, she gulped down a breath and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”
           A lopsided one came to grace his own face. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”
           “Bucky.” Her eyebrow rose. “Well, it’s very nice to finally meet you.”
           He smiled at her, and not the painful smile he’d given the senator before her arrest, but a real genuine smile, one that made the skin around his eyes crinkle. 
           “And it’s very nice you didn’t decide to die on us.”
           “Yeah, yeah, can we cut this meet and greet shorter?” Walker interrupted them, and if Bucky hadn’t been holding onto Y/N’s shoulder as she tried to rise from the ground, he would’ve punched the guy. 
           “I told you she was going to be fine.”
           Bucky threw him his best murder glare but stopped when he felt Y/N squeeze his hand as if saying ‘don’t bother.' His brows furrowed in confusion. She just shook her head.
           “We should still find you a hospital.” He talked to Y/N directly, ignoring what the new Captain was saying. “It doesn’t matter that you can survive something like that, I’d rather make sure you’re checked out by professionals.
           “It won’t be necessary.” Walker slipped the shield on his arm and nudged his partner to start walking with him, pretty much expecting the rest to follow. “It was her choice anyway to take the hits.”
           “It doesn’t mean she should!” Bucky pretty much hollered, startling even Sam.
           At that, he saw Y/N’s eyes widen and her head snap up to look at him. All the breath got knocked out from Bucky at the emotion in her face. It was like she didn’t believe what he was saying like she didn’t know it was a possibility to not put her own life before someone else’s, that maybe someone is supposed to do it for her, someone could protect her.
           “She absorbs fucking bullets and infuses them in her body.” John mocked. “I’d say it’s a win-win on both sides. Everyone else stays safe, and she gets stronger, right? The whole bleeding thing is a hitch in the system, but our guys say with enough scuffles that should stop as well.”
Walker looked at her. Y/N just gulped, staring back down at the ground between her knees. 
           When he looked back at everything the moment he’d seen Zemo in the cell and the asshole had said something still remained in him from the Winter Soldier, came back to connect with the scene. He’d hated that sentence because Bucky knew it was true. The Soldier would always be a part of him, but that was what therapy was for – to accept it and let go. But in that minute, he wouldn’t have cared one bit if the ruthless assassin came to the surface if it meant snapping Walker’s neck like a stick. 
           He treated the woman as if she was below him, as if Steve’s shield somehow made him better than her, better than anyone, and yet, even when he’d been given the privilege to carry it, he’d rather use a human person, no matter if they had powers, as a shield.
           A soft hand touched his side, and Bucky looked at Y/N, his breathing heavy at Walker’s words. 
           “I’m alright.” Her voice was softer than he thought it would be. Maybe it was because she was trying to stay out of John’s earshot, but even the gentle whisper made something in Bucky’s chest stir. “Thank you,” she said. “For checking up on me.”
           Bucky stiffly nodded, standing up and offering both his hands for her to take, but even with that, it took Sam holding her by the waist to be able to stand. The Falcon had to catch her, in fact, when she took her first steps, an awkward chuckle escaping her mouth. 
           “It’s been a while since a hit like this.”
           Sam quirked a brow and smirked. “You always have a tendency to do stupid shit like that?”
           Y/N’s whole body relaxed as he said so, and a sting went through Bucky’s own. How bad were they treating her if basic kindness and a little bit of joking made her feel so safe?
           Just as he was about to ask her more, to offer to take her with them, Walker spoke up again. That conversation was an absolute disaster, and the fact that Walker thought Sam and him would actually ever consider working with him on this mission was idiotic. 
           It ended with the two Avengers watching how Walker threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, making her knees buckle with the weight, her from still regaining strength, but he didn’t care, just dragged her along with him and Battlestar.
           “Are we just gonna let ‘em do that to her?” Bucky sneered, arms crossed watching their retreating forms over the field.
           He felt Sam glower next to him. “There’s not much we can do.”
           He hated that he was right.
           Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. One meeting had left him shaken to the core not just about her, but about how there was something deeply off with the new Captain America, that if they didn’t take action something horrible would happen, not just because of his arrogance, but because of some seed he could feel had rooted itself in the other man’s heart.
           But by that point they’d been in Madripoor, had met Sharon who’d been on the run from the US government ever since the dismantlement of the Avengers, and had now followed a lead to where the Flag-Smashers had settled in Latvia.
           Zemo seemed to not only have a billion cars, but a billion apartments scattered around the world, this one being in the heart of the Old Town. 
           Bucky was on the roof looking over the twinkling lights of the city. His bed had been too soft as it always was, and even the floor wasn’t it for him, not a wink of sleep coming his way as his thoughts were flooded by Y/N.
           Well, the sleep part wasn’t true. He had been able to drift off, only to dream of how the woman didn’t get better, didn’t absorb those bullets and had died right in his arms. That’s when he decided he needed a breath of fresh air.
           The sound of shuffling feet made him whip around from the scenic view only to be greeted by a form he’d now recognise in a full-on ski-suit in pitch-black darkness.
           “What are you doing here?” Bucky stood up wanting to stride over and check her for any wounds she might’ve gotten while around Walker. Any new scar on her body would mean the same number of teeth he’d knock from that Walmart-version-Captain-America’s mouth.
           “Came to warn you.” She shrugged, soft winds making her coat flutter. “John and Lemar are resting, but come morning they’ll be on your ass, so you might wanna make a move now.”
           Bucky shook his head. “I don’t get you. You’re nothing like them, I can see that you know how wrong it is, for him to be carrying that shield, that he’s making a mockery out of the name and legacy Steve built, and yet…”
           Y/N hung her head lifting her shoulders, hands in her pockets. “I gotta do what I gotta do.”
           “He’s an asshole,” Bucky hissed. 
           Y/N gave him a painful look. “I know. But I don’t have anywhere to go. Besides… you have your own way of making amends. Well, this is mine.”
           Dark brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
           She let out a painful chuckle, not because of the memories now plaguing her waking thoughts, but because her wounds were still healing, and instantly Bucky came closer and took her hand, running a soothing thumb over her palm. Wounds he was sure were new.
           Y/N froze at his touch, and Bucky was about to pull away when she put her own thumb over his. He had to bite back tears at how tenderly she was looking down at his palm. Like no one had ever comforted her when it hurt. 
           “When the Blip happened,” she started, voice low and quiet. “I watched how my sister and mom disappeared right in front of my eyes. We were driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, and there was a truck before us. It was carrying loads of metal scraps. The driver of the truck got blipped as well.” She swallowed harshly. “I can still feel how the beam went through my shoulder, how it broke the bone and skin, and how I just wanted to disappear like they had just to make the pain stop. But I didn’t. It hurt so bad.” Y/N looked at Bucky, tears running down her face. “It was burning and tearing, and so much pain… and all I could do was scream, but no one heard me because everyone else was screaming, and I was just one of the thousands doing it.”
           Y/N shook her head, and when Bucky leaned closer to wipe away the tears, she sighed at the feeling. “I passed out sometime later. From the pain the… well, everything. And when I woke up, I heard people outside the door, trying to rip it open, I could see red lights flashing, but where I expected that beam to be was nothing. When I looked down at myself there was a hole in my shirt, but instead of a hole in my shoulder, a round scar was the only thing left from that moment.”
           “They took me to the hospital, and when they tried to put an IV in, my body just swallowed up the needle.” She took a shaky breath, and Bucky squeezed her side. ‘Go on’ he tried to convey with the touch. ‘I’m here.’
           “That’s when the tests started. They were fine at first. Blood samples when they managed to get any, saliva and all that good jazz… but then they started poking. And poking turned into slicing which turned into stabbing until I was their personal pincushion, as they tried to see what my body would and wouldn’t take.”
           Y/N was shaking by that point, but not because of the wind that had picked up, but because of anger, of the horror, she’d had to go through. It took everything in Bucky to remain calm and let her continue.
           “Two years they did that. And then one time they went a bit too far. Someone had stolen a vibranium spear from the Dora Milaje.”
           Bucky’s breath got caught in his throat. He wasn’t moving a muscle.
           “They wanted to know if I could absorb the strongest metal on Earth, so slowly…” Her hands went to her front, to the white blouse she was wearing and started popping open the buttons. Bucky was just about to protest when he understood.
           “They pushed the spear too far.” Her finger ran over a rhomb shaped scar right in the centre of her chest. Right over her heart. “Pushed it right through.”
           “How did you survive?” Bucky was appalled, but in awe at the same time. 
            Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t. I died then and there on the table. They took my body and dumped it in some ditch. From my own calculations, it took me about a day to heal. They’d sown in a scalpel in my stomach a few hours before, so I’m assuming it used that as the binding material for the cells.”
“I was so angry.” She looked at him. “At everyone, at myself, that I couldn’t help my family, that I allowed them to just use me like that, I just went off the deep end. I did so many bad things…” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I read about the Winter Soldier, y’know. His whole thing was efficiency, quickness. I – “ She choked on her words. “I wasn’t. I wanted to drag it out. Wanted to find each and every one of the bastards who laid their hands on me and make them suffer as I did.”
           Bucky’s hand settled on her waist as he pulled her closer, feeling her body keen at the motion as she looked for reassurance. “I’m not a good person, Bucky. This.” She motioned with her head to her body. “This is my repentance for what I did.”
           “What he’s doing is not right. What they���re making you do is not right.” Bucky shook his head. “Just because it might not kill you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. No one had any right to touch you.”
           “It’s the price I pay for what I did.”
           “Pain?”
           Y/N nodded. “Eye for an eye. Pain for the pain I caused.”
           Bucky shook his head. “That’s not right.”
           “How else am I supposed to do this?”
           “By getting help yourself first.”
           Y/N’s eyes widened, and Bucky sighed. He understood how impossible that thought seemed, that someone who’s done so much bad could deserve help from others, but he understood her situation better than anyone. “Being here,” he said, “being able to say these things… I can only do that because I got help. It was mandated by the state, but nevertheless…” Both chuckled at that, and Bucky’s heart lightened at the sound, at the genuine sound of joy from her. “But the therapy… I hate to say this, but it helped. It’s not easy. I sometimes detest going to the sessions, and I might be failing them quite miserably right now, especially with rule number two –“
           “What’s rule number two?”
           “Don’t hurt anyone,” Bucky mumbled. “And I’ve broken it quite a lot recently, I know that which will either make me end up behind bars or will add more therapy sessions to the list, but I’m not afraid anymore.”
           Y/N gulped, gazing just as intensely at Bucky as he was at her. “Of what?”
           “Of reaching out.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of asking for help. Of understanding that I deserve help, and I deserve to receive it.”
           “Yeah, but the thing is I’m not like you.” Y/N looked away from him. “No one forced me to do this, no one brainwashed me. I did everything out of my own volition. Me. No one else. You deserve that help because HYDRA did all those things to you. You are a victim of war. I’m not. All those horrible things I did… I did them. Not some alias of mine.”
           Bucky’s heart hurt at the fact that Y/N couldn’t see she was a victim of her own circumstance, and how now the government was punishing her for it. And that’s when another brick hit him – it was exactly like Isaiah’s situation. Both came from marginalised groups, parts of society where the ones in power have been trying to oppress and control them for as long as he could remember, he just couldn’t see it. He could see Sam’s point of view now. Maybe not as clearly as he should, but he was starting to wipe away the fog.
           “They used you just as much as HYDRA used me.” He asserted, and Y/N’s eyes widened at his sure statement. “Just because a pile of shit has a bowtie on now, doesn’t mean it’s no longer a pile of shit… Come with us.” Bucky’s forehead pressed to hers. “Let’s do this the right way.”
           “It’s mandated by the US government that I stay by John’s side and help him.”
           Bucky smirked at that, nudging his nose against Y/N’s. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re in Latvia then. Besides Captain America has no pull here.”
           She laughed, warm breath slipping over Bucky’s skin, and he had to close his eyes as the thought of her breathless and underneath him invaded his mind. “Unfortunately, this deal stands whether I’m inside the borders of USA or outside.”
           Y/N looked over the skyline to where the country’s national monument stood. A woman, hands up in the air outstretched with three stars in her palms, with words she couldn’t understand when she'd arrived etched on the granite at the bottom. Some local had translated them for her. For the Fatherland and Freedom.
           After the blip and the experiments, she didn’t feel like she had a home. She’d been imprisoned and prodded like some lab bunny to see what her body could do. What her body could be used for.
           Bucky followed her gaze as she kept looking at the statue. Different stars, different saying, but still with the same meaning of what he saw when he looked at the Captain America shield. Freedom. Justice. For the love of their home.
Something deep started to burn in her chest, and even Bucky could feel the shift. 
           A ferocious look appeared in her eyes as she looked at him. “Let’s get that shield.” She wasn’t going to let Walker taint that star, she knew would happen if he had it for much longer.
           They’d had a single meeting beforehand, and during that half-hour, he’d been terrified for more than two-thirds of the time about how Y/N might die in his arms, die because she’d taken bullets meant for him. 
           He was so glad she hadn’t, not because it would be another life lost because of him, but because he felt like he’d found a twin flame – someone who’d understand him and his troubles. Someone he could help.
           Maybe that could be the true way he could make amends – help someone in the same situation.
           Bucky smiled.
           Y/N did so too, and his heart skipped a beat looking at the woman.
           Her body might be able to absorb the metals piercing it, Walker might call her a human shield, but he knew she was so much more than that. And he’d spend however long it took him to prove so to her. Maybe even in more ways than one.
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sirisuorionblack · 3 years
Text
Wonders in the Rain
Remus Lupin x CEO!Reader
Summary - After being unemployed for very long Remus reluctantly allowed his best friend to find him a job as the PA of her boss. And he would forever be grateful to her for that.
Warnings - Metions of death. 
A/N   This is also a fic written for @leydileyla 's 1K followers celebration. And now this fic is by far the longest I’ve written with 4K words. So, enjoy!
You groaned, throwing your pen onto the pile of papers and stood up from the confinement of your study desk and slowly walked towards the coffee machine to fill in the third cup of coffee since the morning and it wasn’t even past noon.
It was difficult and exhausting being the CEO of the most renowned company at the age of 21. It was certainly something you hadn’t expected when two years ago your mother said it would be you who continues her legacy and take care of the company in her death bed. You weren’t ready when you were announced the CEO right after the funeral, the grief inside you never had time to dissipate.
You remember so vividly as you stood in the corner of the room, dressed in all black, eyes swollen as the aftermath of losing your world overnight took a toll on you. Your little brother, at the mere age of 11 looked up at you with wide eyes unknown of what was going on as he clung to you, tightly and you held him as tight, afraid you would lose him just as you lost…the man who the cause for the illness of your mother. Her husband, your father, whose name spurred rage in you as you recollected him arguing with your mother and leaving you and your brother to watch as your mother collapsed onto the floor. 
You smiled pleasantly as your eyes fell on the beautiful woman you had the privilege to call your mother. It was her last picture. Your brother and you were huddled in her arms, a wide smile on your face as your mother kissed your forehead, your eye closed as your brother looked at you, his head thrown back as laughter engulfed him. It was like the time was frozen and you would rather be that girl - carefree and filled with happiness than…you, life so dark you can’t see anything except for the little shine that you so dearly held close to you in protection - your brother.
That was all in your life. Brother and company. Nothing in the orbit of love. It disgusted you ever since you saw your father leave. You despised that feeling of giving someone so much of yourself only for them to dust it off as though it was nothing but a speck of dirt. 
“Ms (L/N)?” your trail of thoughts were interrupted by a sweet voice. You composed yourself, placing the photograph on the table and turned around. It was Lily Evans, an employee of yours who you could very well say was close to you. She knew everything about you, from what you do first in the morning to your drastic sleeping schedule. She almost knew how you would react in every situation yet you couldn’t label your relation with her.
“Yes,” you turned around, avoiding her eyes. She stepped into your lavish office the only person ever having the privilege of being allowed to.
“So, there is this really good friend of mine-” she started with a feared voice only to be cut off by you.
“Evans, please, if this is some sort of a recommendation-” You said and paused as she hurriedly said, “No, no, no. I mean, yes, but he really deserves it,” 
“Fine, what is it?” you said, sighing as you once again took a seat behind your messy desk. 
“I’ve heard people say things about you never having a PA and my friend is actually, I mean, would actually love to take that position,” she said awkwardly. You smirked and leaned back on your chair, looking at her intently as she blushed under your intense gaze. 
You shook your head, “Fine, but I want to meet him and then I will decide,” 
You watched as Lily’s was brightened and she nodded enthusiastically, “Just an hour and he will be here to meet you,” 
You hesitated thinking of your schedule before she said, “You are free the next few hours,”
“And how do you know that?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. 
“I just heard,” she said, looking at the soles of her shoes. 
You rolled your eyes, “No wonder I can’t keep any secrets,” 
You were known for many conspiracy theories and gossips. It was difficult at the start, many breakdowns later you were broken enough that all those knives passed right through the holes, never affecting you. 
You were not excited about the arrival of Lily’s friend and time passed so quickly that before you knew it there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” you mumbled, too endorsed in your work to even look up or comprehend the sudden presence. 
“M-Ms (L/N),” you heard a deep voice say. The voice was new and one you had never heard of and your head automatically whipped to look at the source, startling the poor guy before you. Scars were littering his face and had a failed attempt at masking the exhaustion. He looked weak although there was a pleasant aura surrounding him, buzzing around him with energy. 
He played with the hem of his denim jacket, shifting from one foot to another. His ripped jeans and slightly dirty shirt telling he wasn’t prepared for this meet. He gulped, “My name is Remus, uh, Remus Lupin,” 
You blinked and stood up from your chair, “Who-why are you here?”
Remus’ eyes widened, “I-um, I, Lily told you wanted to see me. I mean, like wanted to meet me before you gave the, uh, the job,” 
For the first time, Remus saw you smile. Remus always admired you, the power and authority that radiated off you was bewildering when considered you were just 21, a year younger than himself and a successful CEO while here he was jobless and wandering around aimlessly. 
Of course, it hurt that ego instilled in him but he wasn’t gonna lose the opportunity of having some money in his hand to pay off his bills. Working as a PA to a girl younger than you wasn’t often considered a better one, and his mother told that very thing when he had called her minutes ago. 
You chuckled, “Take a seat,” you sat down and beckoned him to a chair placed on the opposite side of the desk. You closed the cap of your pen as Remus awkwardly walked towards the desk. 
“So, tell me something about you,” You said, your eyes boring into his eyes. They were gorgeous to Remus and it was terrifying when the reality set in that he was sitting before the (Y/N) (L/N). Someone he had admired only while scrolling through his phone and watching the news. 
You shook your hand dismissively, “I’ll rephrase that,” you sat in a more comfortable position on the chair, “Tell me about the companies you’ve worked for before, your qualification and some basic information about you like your age and things. If you don’t mind, that is,” 
“No, no, of course,” Remus said, “I just graduated from my university and I’ve worked for a minor publishing house for about six months,”
“And why aren’t you working with them anymore?” You asked but immediately asked him to continue as the subtle melancholy wove into his facial expressions and his fingers twitched. 
“Um, I studied English literature and yeah,” He said, shrugging and finally a small smile formed on his face.
You chuckled, shaking your head, “Where are you from?”
“Wales,” he said, without leaving a gap and was weirded out to find the odd feeling in his stomach as he saw you smile and chuckle over again in the short span of time you had met him. 
“Beautiful,” You glanced at the desktop placed on the side of your table and then looked back at him, “It's not gonna be an easy ride of you being my PA you might know the controversies that sparked in the past,”
“Yes, mam,” Remus nodded, his hands that were tightly clasped together was sweating profusely. 
“You will be sent an email that will let you know about the rest of the details. Make sure you read it thoroughly,” You said, glancing at the computer screen again. 
“Yes mam,” Remus said, fiddling with his fingers. 
“Also, the date when you can join will be mentioned in the email itself,” you smiled at him, “And that’s about it,” 
“Oh, alright,” Remus stood up slowly. 
“Your appointed, Mr Lupin,” You said once again and watched as the glow finally found his face after your confirmation. He grinned happily and said, “Thank you very much, Ms (L/N),” and dashed out of the room without another word, leaving you feeling extremely happy for some reason as you returned to your tedious paper.
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Two months, that’s how long you had known Remus and over time it was appropriate to say the two of you grew closer.
You had never had anyone to stand behind you and guide you to what is right, it was always you, yourself alone in the vast arena named society feeling scared and little in the insides while having a brave facade outside. It was extremely difficult to push everything aside and struggle to move forward alone and without proper guidance.
But ever since Remus was appointed two months ago, he had never left your side. It was as though somebody had stepped beside you on the high podium you stood on, facing what was worse than galloping hordes. The comforting aura radiating off him calmed the burning insecurity and fear drilled into you. He stood like a guard, a mentor and a…friend. You’d go a far as to say family as you saw the ways he behaved with your brother.
Remus never made you regret a thing in your regretful life. It was almost bewildering in the start at what he could do. He had made a tiny hole in the wall you had created for yourself from the world. And the little crack Remus created bombarded him with everything he knew that you wouldn't have told anyone else.
You weren’t aware how he knew all those things about you that even you didn’t. It was as though he knew exactly what you would do before you even thought of it. Remus Lupin did wonders to you.
And (Y/N) (L/N) did wonders to him. Remus couldn’t calm his nerves the first day he walked into your office in that posh suit and saw that bright sparkle in your beautiful eyes. He fell. Quite literally, it was extremely awkward when he tripped over his own foot and had to hold onto the door handle. But you had a smile and beckoned him inside saying it happens all the time and how you had to change the layout of the office. 
Just as Sirius Black - the love god as he demanded to be called - predicted, by the end of the first month, Remus was smitten over you. He couldn’t find a reason to dislike you in fact, every minuscule detail he learned about you just made him like you more.
One drunken confession to the “love God”, Remus was clear of his feelings to you and he was never one to understand his feelings, rather run away from them and he had lost a handful of relations like that and he never wanted to do it again yet there wasn’t a chance he could tell them to you and the victim of the mess of his love life was James (Remus thought he deserved it). 
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Remus groaned, leaning back on his chair and rubbed his eyes. He received the mail for the annual conference that would be held where thousands of companies would be having a discussion. It was a really good idea but you hated it and just yesterday he had listened to you speak passionately against it, although Remus just heard the first few sentences and the rest of them falling into his deaf ears as he stared at you. 
“Remus,” Lily shook his arm, “Remus!” 
“I'm listening,” He mumbled and he didn’t have to see her to know she would have rolled her eyes. 
“What is the email about?” She asked. 
“Read it yourself, Evans,” he said with a sigh.
“Is this what you would have told to the love of your life?” she said but he could hear her voice drawl as she read the mail. Remus mumbled, “I don’t love,”
“Sure you don’t, Lupin,” she scoffed. Remus knew what was happening and who she was referring but he would dare say it himself and be teased relentlessly. 
“So, why are you groaning to attend a conference,” Lily asked. 
“She hates that,” Remus said, still not opening his eyes. 
“Ah, she hates everything,” Lily said and he failed to notice the smirk on her lips as he defended you and glared at her. 
“First of all, it’s overseas and she said they would be poorly organised. Second, she doesn’t hate everything, alright, you just don’t know what she likes,” He said, sitting straight on his chair. 
“Sure, sure, Remus,” She said, teasing and left not before ruffling his mass curls, “You suck, do you that?”
”Yep, ask James of it!” She said, winking at him as Remus groaned, disgusted. 
“Ms (L/N),” Remus managed to leave his seat 30 minutes later, mentally preparing himself. You looked at him with a bright smile and beckoned him in by waving your hand enthusiastically. It physically hurt Remus to think he would be the one delivering the news that would wipe the grin off your face. 
“The annual conference-” Before Remus could even complete his sentence he saw your mood shift completely by how you slammed your head against your study desk. He winced. 
“When is it?” He could hear you mumble. You would be thoroughly pissed if he told when it was. Remus shifted his weight from one foot to another and said, “Day after tomorrow,” 
“Day after tomorrow!?” you yelled, whipping your head to look at him. Remus nodded apologetically. 
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And here you were two days later, in your private plane flying to a place where you dreaded to go. Although the only good thing in this was seeing Remus in a causal outfit other than his tailored black suit even that was overpowered by the fact that it was seven in the evening. 
“We will be there in about two hours,” Remus said, scrolling through his phone, “You can take a nap and once we reach there we need to get to the location they sent by a car they have arranged,” 
“They arranged a car?” You asked, blinking at him.
“Yes, they did,” he shrugged, closing his phone and keeping it in the holder. He looked into your bewildered eyes.
“Do we have a backup plan?” you asked, glaring at him. 
“We-no? Why do we need a backup plan?” He asked, puzzled. 
“Remus, do you remember when I told you about their ability to organising things?” You said, looking at him accusingly. Remus took a deep breath, he had not just forgotten them but ignored them too. 
“Uh,” He gulped and rubbed the back of his neck, “We-”
”Lupin, I swear I am not walking miles!” you scolded. And for some reason, Remus’ damned mind could predict exactly what Sirius would have said at the moment and was almost tempted to say the exact words he would have said, “I’ll carry you, don’t worry,” but Remus knew better.
“You won’t, promise,” He gave thumbs up, “Now, you get your needed nap, yeah?”
“Would you leave?” you asked, staring into Remus’ eyes with mixed emotions and he couldn't place a finger on what exactly it was to give a response, so he resorted to the good ol’, “Do you want me to leave?” 
You took a deep breath. Did you want him to leave? You were torn between yourself. One part of you wanted him to stay with you, having no strength to battle with your thoughts alone although he wasn’t going to do much, his sole presence was comforting for you. The other part was scared. Scared of what he could do and just fear blocking every thought of yours. 
But the fear, somehow, for the first time was brought down and you whispered, “Stay,” and who was Remus to disobey that.
After two exhausting hours confined in that plane, the first thing you did once you got off the plane was crack your joints while walking outside and Remus stood on the side chuckling at you. 
“Well, you are the one who is supposed to do it,” You said, rolling your eyes with a smile. He walked to your side, “I don’t exactly ‘cause I knew how to sit on a plane,” 
“Oh is it now?” You scoffed. 
Remus hummed, “Yep!” 
“How else do you sleep in that uncomfortable seat?”
“You wouldn’t kill me if I said, would you?” He asked, looking at you cautiously.
You shrugged, “It depends,” 
“Alright. Um, that’s not reassuring but I’ll tell - you don’t sleep when you on a plane,” Remus said and watched as you whipped your head towards him and glaring.
“What sort of a creature are you?!”
“A good one,” 
“Ooh, getting brave now are we, Lupin,” You bumped your shoulder with him and Remus chuckled, shaking his head. 
“Remus, how long will it take?” You asked glaring at him, who spoke frantically to someone on his phone. The two of you were still in the airport after an hour or so and just like you warned the car has not yet arrived. You huffed and looked at the large window panels that showed the exit of the airport. The sun had already set, not a speck of it in the sky. It was pitch black, the half-moon already shining with the stars in its company. 
You always loved staring at the sky. It not just reminded of your mother but her interpretation. She always considered the moon to be herself when she was younger. The little stars close to it were you and your brother and the rest all were her employees and comrades. She later said the moon was you and the stars behind you were every single person you would meet and the beautiful night sky was reserved for a special person. However, you tried to oppose her point, she stood her stand and told you that one day you will understand it and perhaps it was about time you did. 
You felt someone touch your hand and when you turned to look, Remus was crouched before you, his scarred hand on top of yours. His bright eyes were apologetic as he stared into your eyes. He was confused about how watery it was. Remus scrunched his eyebrows, “Are you alright?”  You nodded with a smile. Remus sighed and held your hand tightly in his.
“The car didn’t come, isn’t it?” you asked with a smirk. Remus ducked his head low. He always felt extremely guilty when he couldn’t do the job he was given and certainly not when he ignored the instruction. 
He was surprised to hear you chuckle, “It’s alright,” You said, grinning at him.
Remus’ eyes widened, “Really?” 
You shrugged, “There isn’t much that I can do now, is it?” 
“I-I’m really sorry,” He hoped you would accept his apology. 
You laughed, “It’s OK, Remus, calm down and think of how we are going there now,” 
“Yes, about that the organizer said they would arrange us a motorbike,” Remus grimaced in anticipation of your reaction.
“Really?” You asked, your eyes widened in excitement. 
“Yeah, it’s actually there at the exit of the terminal,” he said. 
“Ah! Can we use it then?” sitting on the edge of the seat you asked him with a childish excitement making Remus’ heart swell happiness. He stared at you with a mild smile on your face as he chuckled. 
“That’s why it is there in the first place,” he said and watched your eyes lit up with no concern of the sass in his words that usually wasn’t ignored. 
“I wanna see it!” You stood up abruptly and pulled him up with you. Although getting slightly intimidated by how he towered over you, the profound excitement of finally seeing a motorbike coursed through your veins like fire. 
Remus chuckled, “Yes, of course,”
He couldn’t believe it. Remus couldn’t believe the sight before him - his ever stoic boss had her jaw dropped to the floor as she saw the motorbike.
It all quite made sense if he had to think of it, it was impossible for you to drive it down the streets anywhere back home but here it was rather unknown of your arrival, so you could zoom through the streets as you whished without a sense of fear. It was one of the reasons why you chose to travel in the night while announcing you would be leaving the country in the morning. 
“Ahh, this is so beautiful!” you gushed, walking closer and running your hand across the seat, “Can I drive? Please?” 
“As you should. I dunno to drive that,” Remus said, shrugging. 
“It’s alright,” You waved your hand, dismissively, “I’m not gonna judge,” 
As you swing your leg over the bike seat and adjust your coat, you said, “My mum got me one for my 18th birthday and I was obsessed over it, like that’s was my only means of transportation,” 
“That’s brilliant,” Remus said as he planned the first thing he would do once he is back home. 
You and Remus were high on adrenaline as the two of you zoomed into the night. The feeling of cutting through the air with wide grins and hollering happily was indeed beautiful and in the back of your mind, the astonishment of how long it had taken you for being like this again baffled. 
But it all went down once the light drizzle became fully-fledged rain. Having to park the motorbike by some bus stop, the two of you held your jackets above your head and ducked inside, still grinning. 
“Ah, the bike is getting wet,” you said, the thought dampening your mood. 
“This doesn’t seem to be stopping any soon,” Remus said, taking a deep breath as he scanned the surroundings. It was pitch black except for the moon shining down at you. It was such a sight for sore eyes when Remus turned to look at you, your coat was tightly wrapped around yourself, your hair dripping with the rainwater, your eyes shining as you watched your surrounding. You looked divine. 
Remus didn’t know what he was thinking when he took hold of your hand and ran out of the bus stop. “Remus! What are you doing!?” You yelled as he pulled you to the middle of the deserted road.
“You said to me once you loved dancing in the rain!” he said, pushing the water out of his eyes. 
“But-” You looked around, the adrenaline still rushing inside and it indeed was your dream to be out in the streets dancing while rain poured down and the night sky guarded you. Remus let go of your hand, his eyes never leaving you as your legs slowly started moving as though by nature of the memory. 
Time slipped through your hands and before you knew it, after all the laughter, you were back in Remus’ arms, staring into his eyes. You always loved them, feeling as though they held mystery amidst them although always raw. You knew on your fingertips how he felt at that moment when you could just see his eyes but now, it was unknown. 
Remus had a gentle smile on his face as he protectively had his arms wrapped around your waist, a reassurance to himself that you were indeed protected from anything and everything. He leaned down to keep the two of you close and warm. 
“Remus,” you whispered, silently.  He smiled, allowing his eyes to shut as the echo of his name tumbling from your lips ran in his ears and before he knew it before he had control on himself, Remus blurted, “I love you,” 
He was stunned to hear the tiny gasp leaving your mouth and his heart was wrenched out when he saw the disbelief and incredulity in your eyes, “What’s wrong?” 
“What’s wrong!?” you yelled and Remu was taken aback, “Is that what you ask after telling me you love me?!”
”I am sorry," his statement ended more like a question as he looked at you with wide eyes. The rain was still pouring and he didn’t know if it was the rain or your own tears in your eyes. 
“Jerk!” You yelled, your fingers holding his drenched shirt tightly as your chest heaved rapidly. 
Remus wasn’t confused, he was beyond just confused about your reaction. You were yelling at him like he was some stupid but never letting go of him and now he was never the best at these messes. 
Clearing his mind off all the thoughts he cautiously moved his hand to rest on the side of your cheek and watched as your eyes closed, your own hand moving to hold his tightly.
Remus leaned down and kissed your forehead. He had never seen you more vulnerable as a sob escaped your lips and you slammed against his chest, your arm tightly wrapped around his torso. 
It was the first time in three years had you been kissed on the forehead and that alone proved to you that Remus was different. He is your night sky.
Remus held you tightly in the comfort of his arms as you whispered “I love you” into his shoulder. He never knew when the rain stopped. And now the surrounding was fragile. It was just you and him in the deserted street, the freshly smelling earth, the stars and moon shining down at you…and love.
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luminnara · 3 years
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Victor Zsasz x Reader NSFW | 18+
Fandom: Birds of Prey/DC
I don’t see nearly enough BOP!Zsasz appreciation here, so I’m determined to change that. Reader is fem, but if there’s interest I can definitely write stuff for male or nb! The reader also has a whole backstory because I’m way more into world and character building than I am reader inserts so this is practically a little OC fic lol
This is sort of set pre-Birds of Prey, don’t worry about it too much, it’s just fun
Warnings: Violence, Zsasz being Zsasz, reader is an assassin who unalives people, light smut
This is short because I’m testing the waters! If there’s interest, I’ll write a part 2!!
Requests are open!
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When Roman announced that he was hiring a new girl, Victor was less than thrilled. He liked what they had going--Roman was the money and the brains, and Victor was the muscle, the devout follower, and the one who loved to spill blood. They didn’t need anybody else, especially not a new hitman, and especially not a girl.
You had grown up in Gotham City’s East End, a district that was infamous for harboring all sorts of crime. You knew every street, every dark alley, every burnt out shell of a once-great building. The East End was a far cry from Gotham’s nicer neighborhoods, with their shining skyscrapers and big fancy department stores, but what could you say? The East End was home. It was dark and gritty and dangerous, but you loved that about it. 
Besides, it’s not like you could really go anywhere else. 
You had developed quite a reputation for yourself over the past few years. Places like the East End have a tendency to breed criminals, and you were no exception--as soon as you left home, you followed right in your mother’s footsteps and became a gun for hire. Thanks to your family name, you had no trouble taking on the odd merc job here and there, working for mob bosses who didn’t mind the mess you tended to leave behind. Silent, sneaky kills weren’t really your thing, but you never really got into the whole...artistic thing that a lot of other killers did. You didn’t sit there and fuck around with the blood and guts, you just...weren’t very tidy. You were quick, but you weren’t clean. If somebody wanted their enemies taken out quietly, they knew not to even look in your direction, because you were not the girl for the job. 
If somebody wanted to make a statement, though...
You were more than happy to crush some skulls and splatter some blood across the sidewalk for the right price. 
Of course, so much killing got to be exhausting after a while, and even brutal assassins like yourself needed to relax every so often. So, that’s how you found yourself finishing up a job and heading back to your modest little apartment, hopping in the shower, and scrubbing all the blood and dirt off your skin as if you had just spent a long day at the office. It was all normal for you--the killing, the shady bosses, the weirdos you worked with--and you treated it the same way any of those prim and proper office people in Old Gotham treated their day jobs. It was a way to make ends meet, something to pay for groceries and take care of the bills...only, in your case, you were generally paid fully in cash, and sometimes that cash had some suspicious stains on it. 
But hey, work was work, right?
That night, you headed to a club you had yet to check out. Done up in a little black dress and wearing some very expensive pearls you had nabbed off of a target a few months back, you took a cab and found yourself entering The Black Mask.
It was a nice spot, the booths and bar all packed with socialites and crime lords. Waitresses and shot girls flitted around, there was a band playing on the stage, and the atmosphere seemed to be cheerful. Honestly, it wasn’t what you had expected, given what you’d heard about its owner.
Roman Sionis was a businessman, as he liked to call himself, who had been steadily growing his empire. He practically owned the entire East End now, and word on the street was he was looking to expand further into the rest of Gotham. You had never met the man, but you had enough mutual connections that Roman knew exactly who you were the moment he spotted you at the bar.
“Zsasz, go get her,” he said, gesturing towards you with a gloved hand.
Zsasz followed his gaze and tilted his head slightly. “You got it, boss.”
You were minding your own business, ordering yourself a gin and tonic and elbowing drunk men out of your way as you carved a little spot for yourself at the bar. They were rambunctious, leaning towards you with wide grins and beady eyes that told you they were hoping to get lucky tonight.
As you were getting ready to throw another elbow, the men suddenly scattered, vanishing into the crowd as if something had scared them off. The bartender set your drink down in front of you, and just as you raised the glass to your lips, the scent of musky cologne filled your nose and you looked up to see none other than the notorious Victor Zsasz standing before you.
“Boss wants to talk with you.” He said simply, his voice rough and hoarse.
But you were too busy taking in his facial features to really listen to his words. His short hair was the lightest blonde you had ever seen, almost snowy in color, a stark contrast to the black stubble that covered his jaw. He was wearing a silky dress shirt the color of red wine, or dark blood, the kind that was thick and coagulated and dripped off of knives so beautifully.
As he stared right back at you, you saw the scars that cut into his face, straight, meticulously carved lines that you were sure he had given himself. After all, just as you did, Victor Zsasz had a reputation, and while you had never met him, you had heard plenty about the sadistic assassin who kept tally marks of all of his victims.
Part of you wondered just how many he had.
You took a sip of your drink, eyes never leaving his. “I only just got here. I haven’t even paid for my drink.”
“On the house, courtesy of Mr. Sionis.” Zsasz said, regarding you with heavily lidded eyes as he looked down at you.
Just as you knew of him, he knew of you. Even though he was pretty much locked in place with Roman now, Zsasz heard plenty about everyone else in the East End. You practically ran in the same circles, and he had to admit, he was a tiny bit curious about the lady assassin everyone was raving about. He almost admired the messiness of your kills, but he also thought that you were sloppy and too quick, never taking the time to truly appreciate what you were doing.
Now, as he glanced down at the swell of your tits as they practically spilled out of your dress, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you, or fuck you, or both.
“It’s rude to stare, Mr. Zsasz.” You teased as you caught him.
“It’s rude to keep the boss waiting.” He shot right back.
“Fine.” you sighed, pushing away from the bar. “Lead the way.”
He offered his hand and you took it, holding onto him gingerly. The crowd parted for Zsasz in a way that they never would for you, smoothly and easily, club patrons giving him polite, frightened nods as he pulled you past. His grip on your hand was tight and harsh, squeezing as if you might try to run, but in all honesty, you were marveling at how warm his skin was around yours. You didn’t hate the way he led you over to his employer, and you knew that he was being gentle, or at least his version of it. 
When he brought you before Roman Sionis, he immediately let go of you, moving to stand next to his boss. Roman himself was sitting in a booth, sinking into the lavish red velvet upholstery as he held a drink in his gloved hand. He regarded you with a calm smile, immediately gesturing for you to take a set across from him. 
So you did, and the rest was history.
Roman Sionis had heard of you, and when he realized that you lived in the East End, in his East End, he had to have you. He had to own you. So, he did what he always did with people, and he bought you. All you had to do was complete one little, simple job for him, and he would keep you around on a regular salary, giving you all the benefits of joining his tiny little family. You passed his test with flying colors, taking out your target faster than Roman could have hoped for, and the next thing you knew, you were spending your days lurking around Roman’s penthouse. 
You stayed quiet and obedient, not wanting to give Roman any reason to get rid of you. It was a good, steady gig, one you didn’t want to pass up, but you could tell that Zsasz wasn’t pleased. He scowled at you, always waiting for you to trip, always ready to watch you fall. You got the feeling that he viewed you as an intruder, someone who was messing up his life even though you gave him more than enough space. He would raise his lip in a sneer whenever you passed, showing off gold teeth in a maddeningly handsome way that always had you hoping and praying that he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks sometimes flushed. He never seemed to care, as he never made any other moves. Maybe he was under strict orders not to fuck with--or just plain fuck---you, or maybe he legitimately didn’t want to. 
You didn’t know why you had started to care so much. 
You didn’t know about the way he watched your ass when you walked away from him, or the lewd way he sometimes palmed himself right out in the open. You never heard his pants and moans as he got off to the thought of you wrapped around him, and you never got to hear your name rolling off his tongue as he spilled into his hand, hips rocking of their own accord. 
Yeah, Zsasz was pretty much head over heels. He was fucked. 
He didn’t know why he liked you so much. There was just something about you, something about the way you walked and talked that always made his cock hard. He had reached the point where you would enter a room, and his pants would grow tight. Did you even know? Could you possibly fathom the torture you were putting him through every single day in Roman’s penthouse? Zsasz wanted to grab you and bend you over something, anything, hike that cute little skirt up and just go to town on your cunt. He dreamed about it at night, he wanted it, he craved the taste of your pussy...
But he couldn’t have it. 
Not yet. 
He would wait. He could be patient. After all, Roman came first. Roman always came first. Zsasz needed to focus on keeping his boss calm and happy, and he couldn’t afford to get distracted, no matter how much he wanted to press you up against the windows and fuck you so that the entire East End could see who you belonged to. 
No matter how badly he wanted it, Zsasz would wait. 
231 notes · View notes
candychronicles · 3 years
Text
bodyguard // s. todoroki
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A/N: my take on the rockstar/band/performer au for bnharem! i’m not a big fan of au’s normally but this one was a lot of fun to write! todoroki is definitely ooc in this one but i took a lot of liberties with his character in order to better fit the au storyline.
CHARACTER PAIRING: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader
WORD COUNT: 5,091
WARNINGS: mentions of blood, gore, fighting, death, oral sex (f!receiving)
SYNOPSIS: you were in it for the money, he was an unhinged popstar. how could you two ever possibly get along?
want to read more rocking stories? click HERE !
the days at work were tiring, the nights even longer, but the pay was good and it was always satisfying to make a grown man cry as you knocked him to his knees and manhandled him away from your client.
Todoroki Shouto, one of the elite, the famed, the rich, and absolutely fucking annoying. sure, he was hot (anyone with an eye could see that) but he was just like everyone else in his industry: a cocky bastard. you didn’t mind his lifestyle too much except when it interfered with his job, like having to pry off whiny people who clung to him like their life depended on it, and for some, it probably did.
his biggest claim to fame was being in a now wildly famous band, namely the main singer. he was charming with a sultry voice and a personality that oozed confidence but he wasn’t always that way. in fact, he was originally a shy, anxiety ridden teen when he first joined, not sure how to use his voice or deal with people coming up to him in the streets. the life he lived was sheltered before that, training under his dad to take over the family business, but when sweet, innocent Todoroki confessed that he much rather be artsy and sing at the age of sixteen, things quickly changed for him. his father, Todoroki Enji, tried to convince him otherwise, told him that he didn’t know how the real world worked and that he would never be successful, but Shouto wouldn’t budge and eventually Enji caved in, or so it seemed.
Enji immediately enrolled Shouto in lessons, instructing him to shape up or ship out. if he couldn’t become successful in the industry, he would take over his father’s business instead, but that didn’t happen. Shouto excelled in lessons, blowing his instructors away with his timbre and control. he was a natural, and frankly, good enough to be a star. they weren’t so concerned with his stoic yet endearing personality. they had broken enough pop stars, molded them to be perfect model citizens, so what was one more?
the plan backfired immensely. as Shouto’s talent grew, Enji seeked out the biggest in the game, convincing them to give his son a chance at stardom. while reluctant, the board agreed, not wanting to piss off one of the most powerful men in Japan but were thoroughly surprised at the fact that his kid didn’t suck at all. in fact, he was actually good, really, really good.
they signed him immediately, whisking him away into the life of fame and fortune at the young age of seventeen. his range, the slight rasp to his tone and the ability to reach into somebody's soul and pluck the very feelings they try to hide so deeply from it’s depths pushed him towards the life of a rockstar. the freedom he had never been able to experience living at home pushed him over the edge and spiraled him out of control.
Todoroki drank, smoked, and fucked his way through cities big and small, getting himself into a lot of trouble along the way. the behavior went on for years, only getting worse as time went on. nobody seemed to be able to get control over the boy with the pretty hair and wild scar. after almost killing several women and one of his bandmates in a drunk driving accident, his team, label, and most importantly his father had enough.
the conversation between the two did not go well. Shouto was now an adult, legally free and clear from his father’s power. he had his own money, enough to live comfortably for awhile, even if he dropped the band, and all of the repressed rage, longing and anger that was pent up from his childhood. he was not stopping his lifestyle for anyone. that was, until you came along.
you were always a scrapper, getting yourself in trouble more times than you could count. it was just in your nature to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves and you spent many days on the playground beating up the bullies who picked on the sweet girl braiding flowers into her hair, or the boy who liked to play with baby dolls instead of trucks.
as you got older, your fights got fewer and farther in between, at least when it came to the public.
when you turned sixteen and kicked some kid who was trying to look up your skirt so hard in the chin that he saw stars, you were approached by a few men who slid you a card and told you if you wanted to make money fighting, come meet them.
you were a dumb kid and instead of running in the opposite direction and telling the police, you showed up at the seemingly dingy door behind the alley of a fairly run down ramen restaurant. knocking on the door and rocking back on your heels, you waited to see what would happen. it took a few seconds before a panel slid open, allowing you to see nothing but someone’s eyes peering at you in the mid-afternoon sun. hesitantly, you raised the business card in your hand, showing it to the person and jumping in surprise as the panel slammed shut and the door creaked open, inviting you in.
you nodded your head politely at who you realized was a rather bulky, burly man, before a woman dressed in a silky black dress plucked the card delicately from your hand and led you through the hallway. when she opened the door, you were taken aback by the scene.
people of all shapes and sizes stood cheering as two rather muscular men fought in an arena across the room. spit and blood flew across the floor as the two pummeled each other over and over again before one tapped out, the other man raising his fist in the air in victory. you stood, gaze fixed on the scene in front of you, blood racing at the thought of you being in the ring.
“addicting, isn’t it?” the woman whispered in your ear, a knowing smile on her face before she gently took you by the sleeve and guided you away from the screams and shouts into a private room that was much quieter.
you sat down in front of a man who was rather tall and thin, graying hair across his head and a clean shaven face.
“so, i heard you’re a good fighter. how good do you think you are?”
“uh-” you stuttered, not sure how to respond, “i think i can kick someone’s ass if i have a reason to.”
“is money a good enough reason for you?”
“money is a nice reward, yeah, yeah it is,” you confirmed, not pondering the question over for a second.
“good, you start on Saturday. come in comfy clothes that you won’t mind getting sweaty and dirty in. you’re my new ace, a secret weapon. give it six months time and you’ll be defeating guys like that out there in seconds.”
and defeat you did. over and over again, men, women, anyone who thought they were better than you were defeated by your own fists. you worked hard and then some, through literal sweat, blood and tears, to reach the status of champion of the underworld by the age of eighteen.
you were a wild card, unpredictable in your stature. you didn’t have hulking muscles and a sturdy frame, but what you did have was speed, the element of surprise, and the ability to calculate in a split second, all of which allowed you to defeat your enemies time and time again. this relative victory didn’t come without your share of sacrifices: hiding the bruises, blackened eyes and bloody lips from your family as you trained relentlessly, having to figure out a way to manage the steady flow of income that started coming your way as you fought in your first official matches, defeat after defeat as you trained, chipping a tooth and having it promptly filled in like nothing happened, having to learn how to disarm and fire a gun, work with knives and most importantly, losing a bit of your empathy along the way.
it came as no surprise when people who were much more powerful and much, much richer started taking an interest in you, placing large bets upon your head at some of the higher staked matches, a feat you worked your way up to after many years. you never failed to disappoint, knowing that these fights were the ones that mattered the most, the ones that brought you, and your boss, the biggest pools of money.
it was at one of these fights on a dreary, rainy night that you met Todoroki Enji, a hulking man that failed to intimidate you. you were used to people his size and bigger thinking he could take advantage of someone like you and it only made you chuckle thinking of how easy it would be to have him on his knees in seconds.
“i’ve made a proposal to your boss that he couldn’t refuse. he said he couldn’t and wouldn’t force you to do anything, but since you’re quite motivated by money, i think you’ll be intrigued by my offer,” he started, sitting down next to you in one of the VIP booths, sliding his business card on the table with a sly smile.
you were interested and entertained him, listening to him ramble about his shitty kid and his bad behavior. amused, you sipped on your drink as you absorbed his rants and whines about the negative reputation his kid was creating for himself, how he abused his freedom and power to the fullest extent and how his life was spiraling out of control.
“what does this have to do with me, exactly?” you finally questioned, setting your drink down and turning to face him, eyes met squarely with his own.
“i’d like to hire you to be his personal bodyguard.”
“sounds like he needs a babysitter, not a bodyguard,” you retorted, getting ready to stand up and move away from this blathering idiot.
when he spit out a number so outrageous, however, you sat back down, now thoroughly intrigued by the situation at hand. satisfied that he had your full attention, he went into details, laying down a fairly thin stack of papers in front of you as you listened to every detail.
“so let me get this straight. i’m to be his personal bodyguard, keep his shitty behavior a little more under control, whip him up into shape sort of situation. that’s it? and i’ll get paid that much for being a glorified babysitter?”
“you will have to protect him, of course. there are some crazy fans out there that climb windows, seduce themselves into his bed, stalk him, chase him down, but i don’t think it’s anything that, with your expertise, you can’t handle.”
you continued to ponder the situation before gesturing him to continue with his story. he rambled for another moment or two before picking up the papers and going over them with you: standard non-disclosure agreements, a detailed list of your job description and a contract agreement that he was subleasing you through your boss.
after a few minutes of reading the contracts over and discussing them with your boss, you agreed to the scenario, locking yourself into what would be a rather entertaining six months.
the first time you met Todoroki, he instantly tried to hit on you, but when his hand lowered down to grab your ass, you had him on his knees with his left hand behind his back before he could even blink. after that encounter, your conversations were curt. he knew what you were here for and he wasn’t about to let you get his way.
what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be so relaxed about the whole situation. he still drank, still partied, fucked almost whatever girl or guy he wanted, but anytime things got too out of hand, you stepped in, firm but gentle, guiding the crying groupies out of his bedroom after their time was over, driving him every time he got too drunk, cutting him off from any supplies when he was getting out of hand and most importantly, keeping him safe during his travels.
he never realized how much danger he was always in until you mitigated the problems with ease. he just assumed that being assaulted on the daily was something that came with being in the public until you broke some robbers finger when they tried to swipe the wallet out of his own back pocket. after that, he almost clung to you like a koala on a tree anytime he was out in public. you provided stability in a time where he was drowning in his own worries.
that didn’t mean he was ever nice to you though. in reality, he was actually sometimes meaner to you, the simple fact that some girl could be stronger than him set him off, always feeling on edge around you. you weren’t necessarily quiet, offering up any and all small bits and pieces about yourself that he ever wanted to know, but he never really knew you: not your last name, where you were from, if you had any siblings, parents, where you went to school, what your job was, who you were on the inside. it bugged him like crazy to know what your favorite color was and that you liked cheese on your ramen but not anything important, anything he wanted to know.
you liked to keep it that way, however, and would stay as friendly yet aloof as possible. this was a job to you, a job that would set you up easy for awhile and gave you a break from fighting for the most part. you wouldn’t admit to yourself that you liked the man more than you would’ve expected. you felt the way he clung to you as fans swarmed him, the way he always looked to you in reassurance as you walked the streets at night, hearing his sobs in the shower, sobs that were so broken and confused. it showed to you a side of him that was vulnerable, that showed emotion.
he broke down towards the end of your stay, realizing a little too late how much easier it was for you to do your job when he was cooperative and nice. in fact, he began to be more open about enjoying your company and spending time with you. it made it harder for you to continue with your job knowing you were falling for the pretty rich boy, for the man you were hired to protect, for the man who looked at you like you could do no wrong but vehemently would deny it. you began enjoying the little moments with him, the stolen glances, the laughing. you didn’t know what changed in him but you were glad he was someone you could get along with. underneath that crazy exterior, he was just a guy who wanted a friend.
your six months came up relatively quickly. it sucked that your cushy job living in five star hotels, eating decadent meals and working out in state of the art facilities would be over soon but you felt yourself getting lazy, weak and losing your rather sharp edge. it was time to get back into the grind and despite your heart panging at the fact that you would leave the pretty boy with the angry and sad heart behind, you were ready to go.
your last night of work consisted of the final show in Tokyo. tens of thousands of guests were set to attend what would be the bands biggest concert ever. you were calm, cool and collected as always, but the singer, not so much.
he spent the day pacing back and forth, warming up his vocals, hydrating himself, stretching and generally doing his best to calm his nerves.
in a rare act of affection, you reached out to grab your hand with his own, looking him dead in the eye and telling him that this night would be one he would remember forever; and you were right, just not for the way either of you thought.
the show went amazing, the crowd loud and receptive, the choreography flawless, the singing perfect. Todoroki ran off stage with the biggest smile he had ever seen and in his own rare display of affection, twirled you around with ease, adrenaline still pumping through his system.
you congratulated him on the great show and waited patiently for him to remove all the makeup and his costume. he emerged a little while later, hair flat against his head, wet from the shower, sweatpants and an inconspicuous gray hoodie donning his body. you bid a pleasant farewell to his bandmates before escorting him back to the car. he had requested that you drive him back to the hotel and spend one final night in the comfortable hotel beds before you headed back to your hometown.
when you arrived, however, things felt quiet, a little too quiet, and the hair stood up on the back of your neck.
“Shouto, you need to get into the driver’s seat right now, turn on the car and lock it. do not let me in until i tell you to. do not get out of the car, okay?”
he began to question you but before he had a chance to argue, you were pushing him out of the way as a knife sliced towards him, figures cloaked in black emerging from the shadows.
one, two, three, four.
you counted out the four assailants as you shoved Shouto against the car, prompting him to unlock and scramble in through the back seat. only when you heard the click of the lock did you breathe a sigh of relief and begin your attack.
the first man with the knife was tall and lanky, using his height to his advantage, trying to overwhelm you, but with a quick kick to the back of his kneecaps, he went tumbling onto his knees. now shorter than you, you were able to control him by grabbing onto the top of his head and slamming it into the ground, effectively knocking him out.
one, two, three.
the next man thought his muscles would save the day, but his size lacked any true speed, and you were able to land fingers to his eyes, a punch square to his nose. a quick chokehold and he was knocked out against the concrete as well.
one, two.
they both came at once, knives flailing in the air as they sliced your way. one managed to gouge out a chunk of flesh in your arm but you paid no mind, too focused on the task at hand as you grabbed the knife with your hand and used the other arm to knock into their elbow, making them loosen their grip enough to let go of the blade that you then embedded into their shoulder. the other assailant took your distraction to swing the knife your way and as you were trying to dodge the serrated edge, used their other fist to swing up into your chin. you felt your teeth chatter against each other, blood mixing with saliva as you bit your tongue. spitting, you slammed your hand down against their wrist, grabbing the knife with your hand and yanking, not caring that it sliced into your palm as you flipped the weapon around to shove it into their abdomen.
with both men distracted, you slammed your fist against the car door, telling Shouto to quickly unlock it so you could get in. when you heard the telltale click, you instantly dove into the backseat, yelling at him to lock it and drive as fast as he could back to the hotel. he did as he was told with an eerie calmness to him, backing out and around the attackers that were attempting to survey the damage that had been dealt to them.
once you had made the relatively quick trip back to the hotel, you hurriedly jumped out of the car, telling Shouto to carry his own bags so you could be on alert if anything were to happen, scanning each and every corner for a possible other attack. thankfully, everything was safe as you made your way into his hotel room.
you dropped him off quietly, not even attempting to walk into his room, but only fifteen minutes had passed before he was knocking on your door, a first aid kit he had gotten from the front desk securely tucked under his arm.
you let him in without a word, locking the door behind you and turning to face him. before you had a chance to ask what he was doing there, he had dragged you into your rather grandiose bathroom, sitting you on the steps leading up to the jacuzzi tub and pulling out the contents of the kit onto the floor.
he began by assessing the damage to your wounds, cleaning and disinfecting them before wrapping both your hand and arm rather efficiently.
“i had to wrap a lot of my own wounds as well as my siblings. dear old dad let the temper get the best of him sometimes and it wasn’t always so pretty,” he explained, teeth clenching together in an attempt to remain calm.
“thanks for this. i’m sure they’ll heal just fine,” you replied, not wanting to put him in a situation where he had to talk about his troubling past.
“you could’ve died protecting me today, you know?”
“that’s my job Todoroki. i was hired to protect you, i protected you, and i’m fine, thank you very much. this is not my first fight and it definitely won’t be my last.”
he sighed, rubbing his temples as he sat down on the marble floor in front of you, holding your wounded hand in his own, tracing the fabric that surrounded your palm.
“i recognized one of the cars in the parking lot. it was a company car, one of my dad’s cars to be precise. i know they can seem relatively inconspicuous but i memorized every car my dad ever had, big or small. it was definitely his car.”
you mulled over his words for a moment before sighing yourself, slumping against the stairs as your head rested against the rim of the tub.
“your dad sent those men, huh? that’s why you were so eerily calm driving away. you knew you weren’t really in any danger, that those men were secretly there to kill me,” you finally concluded, anger boiling deep within the pit of your stomach.
“yeah, i think they were. i don’t think dad is too fond of the fact that you and i got close. i-i like you a lot more than i let on, i’ve told him so. i thought that would make him happy, knowing i have someone in my life that i could rely on and trust, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control you after these six months were up, think he wanted to teach me a lesson.”
“wouldn’t be the first time i’ve had a hit out on my head. this one, however, is probably going to be a lot tricker to deal with.”
Shouto sunk deeper into himself, body shaking with rage as he saw the fight flash in his head over and over again.
“i’m going to protect you. if you want to, that is. i’ll sign you on as my own bodyguard, however much money you want. i’ll be by your side always, make sure that nobody tries to kill you, tries to hurt you like that again.”
“i can fend for myself Todoroki.”
“it’s Shouto. and why won’t you let anyone else take care of you? listen, i know i’ve been kind of an ass but i thought we were at least friends, and yet i know nothing about you. i know your favorite color, your favorite animal, that you like sunsets and the rain and snuggling under comfy sheets at the end of the day, that your eyes sparkle when you get a chance to fight but secretly crave peace and comfort, but i don’t know who you are. your name, your story, why you’re really here.”
you heaved as you sat back up, staring him straight in the eye to find no malice, no anger, only confusion, empathy and maybe even a bit of longing. so you told him, you told him everything: who you were, what you were, where you grew up, about your childhood dog and all the scraps you had as a kid, how two strange men in suits approached you and groomed you to fight at the age of sixteen, how it was the only thing you knew how to do, the only thing you were good at, how you scared yourself sometimes because you enjoyed the pain that came with the fights. he sat there watching, eyes wide and unblinking as he absorbed every word you said, every bit of pain and anxiety, of longing for someone to love and understand you, of not having to fight all the time, of wanting to be vulnerable for once.
“let me take care of you,” he declared, standing up and outstretching his hand towards you, helping you up from the cool tile, hand coming to rest behind your head once you had steadied yourself.
he leaned forward, unsure and hesitant, before placing his lips against your own, soft and gentle, tasting of mint chapstick and coffee. you were unsure of yourself, awkward, full of aches and pains, wanting so badly to let go but never wanting to get hurt.
“it’s okay, you’re safe with me. let me take care of you, please.”
that was all it took for you to open up, looping your arms around his neck as he led you back to the bedroom, careful to not run you into anything. your knees hit the back of the bed and you reflexively tensed up, like a deer in headlights.
he shushed you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, heeding the bandage and wound underneath. you laid back after that, body attempting to relax as his hands ran themselves soothingly over your body, across your breasts, the flesh of your stomach, your thighs, the corded muscles in your calves, slipping your shoes off, your socks, kissing every inch of your body along the way, making sure you were comfortable. you shimmied out of your pants, your tight shirt, bra, underwear, finally bare for him to see, scars, bruises, all the imperfections of your life.
“so, so beautiful,” he murmured, taking his time to kiss every single blemish and scar that you had, wanting you to feel his dedication.
after what felt like hours of soft kisses, his thumb came to rest on your clit, rubbing in quick and precise circles, fingers gently parting your folds to press into your body, back arching at the feeling of him already.
“it’s all about you tonight, okay? just relax, let me show you how much i appreciate you.”
and appreciate you he did. he dropped to his knees, nose nuzzling into your pubic bone as he kitten licked your clit once, twice, three times, testing your reaction. you whined and squirmed at the feeling, already overwhelmed by his fingers lazily dragging in and out of you. you wanted, needed more, but Todoroki wouldn’t hear any of that. you deserved to be treated right, treated gently tonight, to allow your worries to melt away, if only for a few moments.
his fingers began picking up pace, pistoning in and out of you, his fingers curling in all the right spots, fists clenched into the downy comforter as you attempted to ground yourself from the overwhelming situation. his tongue worked against your clit, changing speed and pressure, trying to find what was the right combination to set you off, watching your every move intently as you squirmed around on the bed. before he even got a chance to get into a routine, you were already cumming over his fingers, creamy liquid coating the digits.
he hummed in contentment, pulling his fingers out to lick up the syrup, you watching with your pupils blown wide.
you went to sit up, body aching from the adrenaline of the fight, but he pushed you back down into the plush bed, tutting as he settled his head against your thigh, kissing, sucking and biting along the plump flesh, leaving little marks only he would know about.
his tongue began lapping at your clit again, this time harsher, more in tune with what your body wanted. you clenched your legs around his head, fisting his hair with your good hand as you tried to ground yourself yet again to reality. his velvety tongue felt like heaven against your body, coaxing moans and sighs out of your mouth. you felt your second orgasm hit you like a freight truck, tingles running up your spine. you tried to push his head away but he only held your body down, a frighteningly feral look on his face as he continued to lap against your clit, unrelenting in his pursuit to pull orgasm after orgasm from you.
after, two, three, four more highs, you couldn’t tell where one began and one ended, he was finally satisfied, pulling his face away, chin glistening in the dim light. your eyes were teary and red, overwhelmed by everything he had put you through. you had never been more satisfied in your life, and by the look on Shouto’s face, he knew it too.
your eyelids began to droop and your body relaxed into the mattress as you came back down into reality. Shouto shuffled around the room before settling you into your bed, tucking the sheets around your body and propping your head against your pillow.
he was enamored by your, by your story, how you opened up so willingly to him after tonight. nothing would get in between you two now. he was just starting to truly know you, know the real you, and nothing was going to stop him from wooing you until you were his, not even his father., and if her life was ever threatened again by him, well, Shouto would just have to kill Todoroki Enji.
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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years
Text
Nice to Meet You
For @boxboysandotherwhump - Theo chose soft!Jameson, so here he is! @wildfaewhump gave me the three-word prompt “Space, shell, fair” for Jameson.
CW: Recovering pet whumpees, referenced past torture, scars, referenced dubcon/noncon, briefly referenced past dehumanization, consensual angst, fluff
When he opens the closet door, intending to press himself into his safe spot with his back to the corner, blocked by the boxes, he discovers Allyn is already there.
For a moment, his mind goes blank.
They look up at him and wince as the light cuts into the warm, velvet dark they were hiding in. Their long wavy hair hangs over their eyes, impossibly long legs bent until their knees are under their chin in the oversized sweatpants, gray eyes looking up at him, startled.
They’re more afraid of you than you are of them, whispers Nanda’s voice in his mind, soft and sweet as custard, the first owner, the one who took him on hunting trips where he had him sleep with the dogs and cut a line into the back of his thigh for every animal he slaughtered. All his memories of Nanda are grays tinged in blood - the gray of the sky, of Nanda’s eyes, the red of the bloodhounds, the drips that followed him across the floor. 
Nanda also taught him about bears, while they moved through the woods. They’re more afraid of you than you are of them, boy. Vanilla custard, but held on the edge of a sharp knife, metallic under pillowy cloying sweetness. Nanda’s words always felt like blood in his mouth, spoonfed.
Allyn isn’t a bear - but they are definitely afraid.
“Why-” His voice cracks, shock of earthquake through ice on his tongue, and he considers simply closing the door and walking away. Allyn is his roommate, not his friend. He doesn’t have friends, none of them have real friends. Just other people also suffering nearby. Finally, though, he opens the door just a little wider. “Why are you in here?”
Allyn shakes their head, and it’s only then Jameson realizes their hair is uncombed, hanging lank and limp and lifeless, which Allyn’s hair never does. Their lips tremble, no perfect fucking party smile in place like usual, as they cringe back from him. No pretty blouse, no pretty anything. Just pale and shadowed, freckles standing out like someone stuck them on. “I-I’m sorry, I just… just needed-... a, a minute t-to breathe, I’m sorry-”
“This is my fucking space, Allyn. Yours is under the bed, so… go be under the bed.” His voice isn’t as rough and mean as he wants it to be, but it’s maybe mean enough - they sniff, and he sees their eyes glitter with tears.
His anger melts under something he tells himself isn’t guilt, and he exhales, slowly, before he moves to a crouch. He doesn’t like being loomed over, so they probably hate it, too, right? He’s had too many motherfuckers stare down at him in his cages. He stays that way in silence, right at their eye level, cocking his head as they breathe, wondering what color their eyes really are.
“I’m sorry,” They whisper, and he can see the shift of their oversized sweatshirt, three days past needing a wash. This isn’t like Allyn at all. Have they been like this for days, and he didn’t notice?
Well, why he fuck should he notice, they’re not friends, and Allyn is in his space, the only space in his entire life that’s all his and isn’t ringed in bars to put him on display-
No. 
It’s not their fault, they’re upset, and the darkness of the closet is safer than anywhere else. You can hide in closets, he understands why they’re here. He forces down his irritation, and takes in the miserable worry in their eyes.
“Shit. Allyn, it’s... I don’t mean to be an ass, I just-... uh, what made you… need a minute? Exactly?” He should call for the big guy who runs this place, it’s his whole job to handle moments like this, but he can’t quite make it happen. Instead, he finds the voice he wants to be sharp is softer, his words feel like the heat of a kiss he actually wants, taste sweeter than any kiss he’s ever actually had. 
They’re more scared of you than you are of them.
“Um, I-I was-... I was thinking… about… him.” The poison in the love in their voice is all in Jameson’s head, but he feels it seep into all his scars anyway. Acid, that him. Too much pineapple burning his tongue. They’re lucky to have had an owner they could love. Luckier still, to have one who loved them back.
Luckiest of all, to have an owner who wanted them to be happy.
Unluckiest, though, to get chucked out with the fucking garbage when the asshole died and they weren’t in his will. It’s not fair, but it’s fucking life, isn’t it? And in the end, which one of them is luckier? Him, for knowing it was suffering the whole time - or them, for having the chance to believe it was anything else?
“You miss him.” Flat, crash of knives on the ground, the clink and rattle and smack of their handles. Allyn only hears the words. He is starting to realize words feel inside him differently than they do to others. 
Allyn nods, and the glitter of tears spills finally out. 
He wants to touch their face - he doesn’t.
“I-I do,” They whisper. “I know I sh-sh-shouldn’t, but I… I do. I’m sorry, I know that you don’t-... that you weren’t-”
“Yeah, well.” He waves a hand, dismissive. The scars on his back and legs feel stretched, when he crouches like this, balances on the balls of his feet. He can feel the skin pull at itself, numbed but still here. Couldn’t kill me, motherfuckers, how about that? I’m still here, and three of you are gone. You’re just fucking corpses and your little blow-up doll with a heartbeat is still here. “You’re hurting worse than I am now, so I guess we’re sort of even.”
“I just… I can’t-...” Allyn’s voice buckles under the weight of their emotions, it shatters. Jameson tastes blood from the glass and watches Allyn lift their hands to hide behind them. Long fingers, delicate and graceful, even in this. Nails filed to perfect roundness. His own fingers are nothing special, two of them on his right hand broken until they don’t bend quite right anymore. He didn’t have to have perfect hands. He barely escaped Robert getting to keep his hands at all, and that was only because he was pretty fucking good at using them. 
“I can’t live without him,” Allyn whimpers, muffled and thick. “I feel like… like I was made empty for him to fill up, and h-he’s gone, I can’t-... live without him, I can’t-”
He swallows the glass of their grief, buries it inside him. Wonders if he’ll ever know how it feels to give a shit what happened to the assholes who hurt him. What would it be like, to actually feel bad about the deaths? 
“You can,” He says, low-voiced, and shifts forward into the closet, settling himself down and closing the door until only the thinnest crack of light can break up their safer darkness. Barely the width of a wire, the light illuminates nothing, only reminds them it’s there. He listens to the soft inhale, slower exhale, of the person beside him. Their presence is a weight, in his safest places, and his nerves are alight with how fragile it is, to have anywhere at all, how easily ruined by someone intruding. He clears his throat, uncertain, unused to being one to give comfort. More used to ignoring its existence. “You, um. You can live without them, I fucking swear it, Allyn. I lived without all of mine, for a while, ‘fore the next one caught me, or bought me.”
He hears rustling, and tilts his head just slightly to see them looking at him. They’re pale, but he is, too, a duller washed-out color from lack of sunlight for so long. Their freckles look like constellations, the stars he would stare at through Robert’s window in the dark. He notes, absently, that they damn near have a Little Dipper along their left cheekbone. “But-... but you didn’t love them… did you?”
He decides he sort of likes their voice. It slips into his mind, subtle sweetness, maple syrup but thinner. Weaker, but maybe it could be strong. 
With time.
He swallows, speaking gruffly to cover up the strange twist of emotion. “No, I-... no. I didn’t love ‘em, but… but you keep going, you know? You’ll do it, too. I’m not… fuck, I’m not good for this. I wasn’t ever supposed to talk, so I’m not… super good at it now. Being, um. Like, helping… with words.” His voice is thick tar on his tongue, colored by his embarrassment. 
But he tries.
There’s a silence, and he leans over, until his shoulder just touches theirs. Allyn tenses and then relaxes, and they sit like that for a while, listening to each other breathe.
Allyn’s head comes to rest on his shoulder, and he finds he doesn’t mind the weight.
“I’m so tired of being sad,” They whisper. 
“Yeah, I’m-... sorta tired of being pissed off, myself.” He huffs a laugh. Then he feels Allyn’s hand - cold, slender, long-fingered - find his own, warmer and scarred. “Feels like we’re just empty seashells that get filled up with whatever the water brings, huh?”
“That… that sounds really pretty,” Allyn says softly. “Do you think pretty things a lot?”
“No. Most of my thoughts are really fucking ugly.” He manages another humorless laugh. “I guess I can surprise you, huh.”
“In more ways than one.”
“What?”
“I saw what you wrote on the wall,” Allyn murmurs, and they shift their head, breath warm on the side of his neck, where his collar is. Or isn’t. For a second, he can’t remember if he’s wearing it or not. He takes his off, sometimes. When he can. More and more often, as the days turns into weeks here.
“You did?” He closes his eyes, not that it makes much difference. They don’t let go of his hand. There is movement, out in the hall, in the rest of the house, but for the second, he and Allyn are alone. 
“Mmhmm. You can read and write? Did your owner let you?”
It’s a secret he’s kept inside him for so long. It’s so hard to give it away, now. “I… no, none of them knew I could. When they took it from me, it… didn’t work. I never lost it.”
“Oh.” They’re silent for a moment. Their breath is warm, and despite himself, he feels a nervous flip of his stomach, his hair standing on end. It’s something trapped between fear and want, and it’s unlike any fear or want he’s ever felt before. “What did you write, on the wall?”
He could tell them anything. He could lie.
He tells the truth. “I wrote out our names. All of us. Um. The, Jake, and… his people. Eli, Nova, Sarita, um, Allyn…”
“Did you write yours?”
He lets his head gently fall back to rest against the wall. His heart might break out of him, bleed all over the floor. A different kind of bleeding, a kind that he sort of wants, even though he doesn’t. “Um. Yeah, I… yeah.”
“What is it?” They don’t move their head, they don’t let go of his hand. “What’s your name?”
He shouldn’t tell them.
It’s been his secret for so, so long. But… fuck, he’s so tired of secrets.
“Jameson,” He says, and it’s the taste of air just before rain, a chill breeze on a blistering day. His name, the one he gave himself. “I’m-... my name is Jameson.”
They’re quiet for a second, and then say, softly, “Nice to meet you, Jameson.”
It sounds better, in Allyn’s voice.
Everything does.
---
@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @astrobly @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump
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topazy · 3 years
Text
Silent bloom
Pairings: Bellamy Blake/reader Finn Collins/reader
Warnings: Mentions of blood, and vomiting
Chapter: 1.12 (Bellamy’s pov)
1.02
"Cut it out!" Y/N snapped, which took me by surprise. She seemed so quiet. "The only thing that matters right now is finding Jasper! Bellamy, stop moaning. You’re coming with us and that’s the end of it."
"Excuse me?" I was irritated by her tone.
Y/N walked closer to me, with a look of disbelief on her face. "You want to lead? Then lead. You’re the only person here with a gun, and those kids out there won’t follow you unless you give them a reason to."
"She’s right." Clarke chimed in. "Because you want them to follow you and right now they’re thinking only one of us is scared."
"Fine."
I watched as the bossy girl froze just before she reached the camp gates. It seemed like she was telling Finn to get lost. The last thing I needed was any more drama in camp. I had a feeling the girl with the scarred eye would cause it.
"So how did you earn the nickname angel eyes?"
My ears perked up when I heard Murphy shamelessly trying to flirt with the girl walking beside him. It was hard to figure out if she was enjoying his attention or not. "The only person who calls me that is you, Murphy."
"How did you get the scar?" I listened in, as I was curious myself about how she got it.
"Fist fight in a bar. You should have seen the other guy." She had a dry sense of humor, "I fell and cut it."
"Can you see clearly out of it?" He asked, standing closer to her.
"Yes, and I know what you are doing!" She snatched her wrist back, laughing. Murphy just shrugged. "I’m not giving it to you, so you and your little king can stop trying."
I glared at Y/N when she turned around to face me. I had nothing to do with Murphy trying to take her bracelet off. It wasn’t my fault if he wanted to try and show off.
"Did you hear that?" Wells asked, "It sounds like a moaning pain."
"Jasper!" Y/N gasped before running off in the direction of the noise. "He’s over here!"
"Y/N wait!"
She didn’t listen to Wells. What a stupid girl. She was going to get herself killed. I watched as she suddenly disappeared. I lunged forward to see what happened to her. Y/N was hanging onto the grass to stop herself from being killed, "Help me up!"
"Y/N? Bellamy pull her up!" Finn yelled just as I grabbed hold of her wrist. Clarke and Murphy helped us pull her up.
Y/N landed on top of Finn before quickly rolling off him, and glared at me. "What the fuck was that about?! You almost got me killed!"
Clarke shook her head and stepped forward before she could reply. "This isn’t going to help. The grounders are setting traps to catch us. We all need to be more careful."
The ‘princess’ was right. Y/N continued to glare at me. Was it my fault? Did she think I was going to let her die? I didn’t care about her, but we needed all the bodies on earth we could get.
"Stay here, I'll be back shortly." I watched the girl curiously as she walked towards the fire pit.
"Hey, John?"
I was expecting Murphy to kick off at being called his first name, but he looked amused. "What?"
She held up her wrist, "fancy freeing me?"
"Anything for angel eyes," Murphy said, grinning.
I watched her pick up a stick of meat and head towards her previous spot, but Finn and Clarke stopped her. I couldn’t hear the full conversation, just bits of it. I didn’t get Finn’s obsession with her. I wondered if they knew each other on the ark. "Yes, I am aware of that. Now if you don’t mind, can you move out of my way?"
"Then tell me, why did you take it off?" Finn demanded, not moving out of her way.
"Some of us don’t want to get punched in the face...Plus, It was hurting my cut wrist."
Her comment didn’t bother me, but Finn bothering her did. Also, I felt slightly bad that she cut her wrist while we pulled her up. I was getting ready to intervene when she walked away from Finn and sat back down beside a young girl, and handed her food. She had taken off her own wristband to feed someone else. Not many people would have done that, not even me.
1.03
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Finn storming towards Y/N, or whatever her name was. "Is it true?" She ignored him, "Well! Is it?"
She shrugged, "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a little busy here, Finn, so if you don’t mind."
"Please tell me you didn’t spend the night with Murphy." I noticed how offended she looked by his accusation. "You are so much better than that Daze. Why would you do that? Don’t you have any self-respect?"
"At least Murphy is flying solo."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Clarke asked from behind him.
"Nothing... it means nothing." She turned to walk away when she caught me staring. It didn’t seem to phase her much as she turned back to throwing knives.
I waited until Clarke and Finn were gone before approaching her. Even if she had screwed Murphy, neither of them had a right to judge her. "Y/N right?"
"Yeah," she answered without taking her eyes off the target. "But I go by Daze or Daisy."
That made sense. It suddenly occurred to me that this was the same girl that my sister wouldn’t shut up about. Somebody with her aim would be good at hunting. I wondered if she would be interested in joining us. "Useful to know. You have a good aim. Any interest in killing?"
"I’m not leaving the camp until Jasper is better," she replied, "maybe next time."
"Do you hear that?" I asked. "He’s dying. Don’t get your hopes up."
She scoffed at my comment, "enjoy the hunting trip."
I left her alone to practice. I wasn’t pointing out the obvious to be cruel, I just needed people to be prepared for the worst. When Jasper dies, the rest of us will still need to go on living.
I noticed Daisy walking out of the drop-ship, which surprised me. I thought she would have been celebrating her friend surviving. "Hey, are you okay?"
"I just needed a moment... I’m sorry about Atom."
I stared down at the ground to avoid eye contact with her. The last thing I wanted was anybody to see me get upset over Atom. He was my friend who trusted me, and I had let him down. "I don’t think Octavia is feeling sorry for me."
"She’ll come around. She’s just upset. Give her time," Daisy said with a smile.
"I’m glad you never came hunting with us." I confessed out loud, "Like I said, you have a good aim. It would have been a shame to lose someone with such skills."
I could see a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "Yeah, yeah. Goodnight Bellamy."
"Finn move aside," I snapped.
"I can’t do that."
I pushed him out of my way as I walked into Daisy’s tent. I had to see for myself if she was still alive. When she never came back with Wells, I decided to look for her and saw her laying on the ground with a knife in her stomach. I thought she was dead.
Kneeling down beside her bed, I noticed how fragile she looked. Clarke had worked a miracle by saving her.
"Bellamy, you need to leave now!" I stood up again, and faced Finn. I found it ironic that he only cared about Daisy after she almost died. "If Daze gets an infection, she will die. The more people she comes in contact with, the higher the risk."
"Whatever," I shoved past him. "When Octavia comes, you will let her in."
1.05
I had just disposed of the god-damn radio when I felt something bang into me. I was surprised to see a slightly confused Daisy standing behind me.
"Y/N, what are you doing out here?"
"Me and Clarke came looking for you."
Was she joking? Nobody had seen her in hours. If she wasn’t back by the time I returned, I was going to go look for her myself. If anything, it was to stop Octavia from going off on her own. "Looking for me? Octavia was worried sick when she couldn’t find you last night. Where the hell did you go?"
"Bellamy Blake? They’re looking everywhere for you."
Fuck. The brunette had survived. I should have made sure she was dead before I stole from her. As Clarke, Finn, and the new girl lectured me, I noticed how unusually quiet Daisy was. She didn’t seem interested.
"It’s no use, it’s gone."
Daisy rolled her eyes at me, "That’s not a good leader’s attitude."
"Guess I’m not a good leader then. You’re really not going to ask why I did it?" I was curious.
"It’s not my business." She shrugged. When Daisy removed her jacket, I noticed how badly her stomach was bleeding. She must have burst her stitches open.
"Hey," Raven said, stepping closer to her. "Your bleeding is pretty bad."
I stood awkwardly trying not to listen to the two girls' interactions. It was clear they didn’t like each other. I just wanted Daisy out of the water before she passed out.
"Hey, have any of you seen Octavia?"
Clarke shook her head. "No, I mean...it’s Octavia. She’s probably chasing butterflies."
Daisy frowned at the comment. I imagined she didn’t like Clarke’s attitude either. I thought back to the conversation I overheard with Daisy and Finn earlier, and wondered if she was looking for my sister because she needed a shoulder to cry on. It wouldn’t have surprised me. I couldn’t believe she was sleeping with Finn while leaving the rest of us to worry about her.
1.07
"What the hell, Bellamy? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
"Your aim is off."
"Thanks." She rolled her eyes and turned back to face the tree. "Don’t you have anything better to do than sneak up on me?"
I probably shouldn’t have walked up to someone holding a deadly weapon without making my presence known beforehand. I couldn’t tell by her tone if she was mad at me as well. "Who we are and who we need to be to survive are very different things."
"Seriously Blake?" She scrunched up her nose, "A line like that might work on others, but not on me."
Daisy walked over to the tree and let out a whine when she pulled the knife out. I rushed over to her and grabbed her hand, concerned she’d cut herself on the knife's edge. I was relieved to see it was just a small splinter in her hand, "It’ll push itself out."
"I know that...I just can’t quit thinking about how painful it must have been for Finn."
I stared blankly at her. I couldn’t get my head around the fact that she cared for the spacewalker so much, especially when he took her for granted. It was obvious that she cared about him more than herself. Hell, she even burst her own stitches while having sex with him.
"You got stabbed in the stomach," I pointed out. She shrugged. Daisy hadn’t been able to look at me since we brought the grounder back to camp. "I’m not sorry we saved Finn, but I am sorry for what you saw me do."
"Are you ready to go?" Clarke asked, walking towards me. I nodded in response. She turned to face Daisy. "Daze, Finn was asking for you."
Of course he was. I was going to ask Daisy if she wanted to join us while looking for weapons, but I knew she’d never come with Finn wanting her attention. "You better go run off and find him then."
She smiled at us, "be safe out there."
As she walked away, Clarke stood beside me, saying, "You didn’t ask her, did you?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Good question. "We are better off with just us two. She would have slowed us down."
Clarke leaned into me, "you know, that was a very fake smile she just gave us."
1.09
As we walked towards the gates, I noticed movement outside camp. We slowed down until we got a better look. Clarke suddenly ran over to the couple, "Daisy!"
On closer inspection I could see why she ran over to them. Daisy was violently throwing up. Clarke held her hair back while she continued to vomit. "What’s wrong with her? Is she the only one sick in camp?"
Finn shook his head, "She was just high for the first time."
"What?" I snapped.
Finn shrugged, "Yeah, most of the camp is high. They ate some bad nuts, I guess."
Clarke continued to rub Daisy’s back, saying, "Bellamy, I'm going to take Daze back to her tent, then I'll meet you in the drop-ship."
I frowned at Finn, who seemed to find the situation amusing. "Grounders are out here," his smile faded. "You’re just lucky you didn’t get her or yourself killed."
I noticed Daisy finally emerging from her tent. She looked slightly better than the night before, but still hellish. "Hey, you good?"
"Yeah, I’m good. Enjoying unity day?"
I pointed towards the rest of camp, "somebody needs to be sober while the rest have fun."
She chuckled, "Everyone deserves to have some fun, even you Blake."
She had a point, but my idea of fun would be different from hers. Although I found myself tired of sleeping with a different girl every night, they all bored me once the sex was over. "I’ll have fun when the grounders come."
"Dark as always," she laughed.
I smiled, "you look a lot better than when I last saw you."
The moment the words left my mouth, Daisy’s face turned red. I had accidentally embarrassed her. I gulped down before changing the subject, "What did you get arrested for anyway?"
I noticed she wasn’t listening to me by the way she was watching something else, "It’s Finn."
I tried my best not to groan. I honestly didn’t understand what was so special about bloody Finn. He had Raven, Daisy, and Clarke wrapped around his finger. I doubt he cared that much about any of them. Lost in my thoughts, I almost missed Daisy going to leave camp. "Where do you think you’re going?"
"To get Finn, he’ll get killed out there on his own."
"So could you." I paused for a moment before letting out a sigh of defeat. I could tell by the look on her face that she was going after him regardless of what I said. "I’ll come with you."
"No...Somebody needs to stay here in case the grounders do turn up. If I can’t see where he went past the tree-lines, I’ll come back."
I clenched my jaw with frustration. I didn’t like this one bit. "Fine. But if you are gone too long, I’m sending out a search party."
"Bellamy?"
"So much for staying in the tree lines," I frowned.
Daisy rolled her eyes as she pulled me into my tent. Was this really happening? Was she trying... "Whatever, look, Finn set up a meeting with the grounders to call a truce."
"He did what?" Finn had quickly gone from being a little annoying to a real pain in my ass. He was going to get himself killed. I just hoped when that happened he didn’t drag anybody else down with him.
"We spoke to Lincoln... the grounder who stabbed him. He’s going to set up a meeting between our people and his. Finn and Clarke are getting ready to leave."
I stepped closer to her so I could speak in a lower voice, "Why are you looking for me then?"
She seemed nervous the closer I got to her. Her lips parted slightly as she looked up at me. "I’m going to follow them, and you’re coming with me."
"Anyone ever told you that you have a bossy side?" I preferred the bossier side of her.
"We should wait five minutes," she answered, ignoring what I said. "Finn doesn’t know that we are following them."
"Why not?"
She knotted her fingers together, and looked down at the ground. I made a mental note to remember she did that when she was lying. "Because Lincoln told us not to take any weapons, and I don’t agree with him. But Finn does. We are going to be their backup."
I didn’t see the point in arguing with her when it was already happening. "Okay, I think we need one more person to come with us."
1.10
"Not now Finn, we don’t have time for this. The grounders are coming and arguing among ourselves is exactly what they want. " I watched Finn’s face twist with anger when Daisy butted in. I just hoped he was smart enough not to say anything back to her. "I’m going for a walk. You guys are giving me a headache. Murphy better be alive when I get back."
"Seems I’ve got a fan club starting in camp Bellamy. Who knows, maybe she likes me more than you." Murphy said before spitting out blood.
"Go float yourself."
"Happily," he scoffed. "But I don’t imagine angel eyes being too happy when she finds out you’ve killed me." Finn stormed out of the drop-ship, mostly likely to go look for Daisy. "Looks like I’ve upset her boyfriend. My bad."
"They aren’t together," I snapped.
A look of amusement spread across his face. Being covered in blood only made him look more sinister. "Ohh... I see what it is."
"What are you talking about?" I mentally slapped myself for even entertaining Murphy. I should just kill him before he hurts anybody else.
"You care for her... and she’s in love with spacewalker."
I glared at him, "Shut the fuck up."
"Don’t worry Bellamy, I’ll keep it our little secret. For now."
"Bellamy, you're sick, okay? I'm just trying to help. Here."
If it wasn’t for the fact that I was so weak, I would have flung Murphy across the room by now. "When I get better, if you're still here--" I frowned when I saw Daisy walking towards us. The last time I saw her, she was throwing up blood. "Why are you up? You should be resting."
"I’ve got this one Murphy," she smiled and took the cup from his hand. "Thanks for saving my life and all that."
When she sat down next to me, I noticed the way Murphy looked at her before leaving. "What are you now? His best friend? After-"
“Murphy is an ass," she cut me off. "But he never hurt me, and I believe in second chances."
I took a drink of water before she started wiping some of the blood off my face. Daisy suddenly stopped and squinted at me, "something you want to talk about?"
"You and Finn-" I was cut off by a loud noise from outside the ship. I sat up as Clarke ran into the room, "They did it."
"I became death, a destroyer of worlds. It's Oppenheimer, the man who built the first-"
"I know who Oppenheimer is."
"Who cares about him?" Daisy shrugged. "I want to know what the hell caused the explosion."
"Raven..." I glanced down at her. "I thought O told you? Raven and Finn went to blow up the bridge to slow the grounders down."
It was worrying that Daisy couldn’t remember. I was honestly surprised she was still alive by this point. Between being stabbed and catching the virus, I’d say she was very lucky to be with us. Daisy must have noticed me staring because she was frowning, "I’m sure they are fine."
Looking back out of the drop-ship, I sighed. We would need to wait to see if the grounders got scared off or not.
1.11
"Like that star of the waning summer who, beyond all stars, rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance." I saw Daisy sitting on her own again and thought I’d give her some company. "I thought your post finished hours ago?"
"It did," she shrugged. "I like being out here at night. The sky looks beautiful from down here."
I never would have guessed she would have enjoyed stargazing, this girl was full of surprises. "I suppose it does."
"You suppose? It’s the most amazing sight in the world. I honestly have no idea why people used to use drugs to live in a distorted reality, when the earth is just-" I could not help but smile at the way she talked about the sky. It was the first real conversation we had that didn’t involve anybody else. "What?"
"Nothing," I shook my head, smiling. "I’ve just never heard you talk so passionately about something that wasn’t to do with your friends."
"You don’t know me very well, Blake."
I knew much more than she thought. The girl with the scarred face was much more interesting than I first thought. "You're a good shot. We have the same taste in books, and you don’t know who Oppenheimer is."
"Touché, I’m guessing you’ve read the Iliad a few times then?" I nodded, "How do you know we have the same taste in books?"
"Octavia has mentioned it,” I lied. I had heard Monty and Daisy talking one night about books they liked to read on the ark, but I wasn’t going to admit I listened in on their conversation.
I noticed her shaking slightly. She was cold. I removed my jacket and placed it on her back. "Thanks..."
"No problem."
Sitting with Daisy was nice. It didn’t feel awkward when there was silence between us, although I wouldn’t have minded talking a little more. But I didn’t want to force her to spend time with me.
"So this Oppenheimer, who is he?"
"Bellamy!" I heard Daisy call out. Before I had a chance to finish getting dressed, she barged into my tent. "Bellamy I-"
"Daisy, what the hell happened?" I asked her. I stepped out in front of her when she tried to walk away. She was covered in blood and had an arrow sticking out of her leg. "Daisy, what happened out there?"
"Grounders attacked us."
Raven stepped out of my tent, "Finn... is..."
“Myles got hit with a few arrows. I don’t know if he’s dead or not. They took Clarke and Finn.I have no idea where they went."
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I didn’t miss the look of disgust on Daisy’s face or the way she pulled away from me when I reached out to her. I had no reason to feel guilty, but I did.
"I never told him."
I stopped when I reached the outside of Daisy’s tent. "Told who what?"
"I lied to Finn. I told him I tripped and fell, I’m only telling you so you don’t mention it later on."
I stepped back. We wouldn’t be ready to leave for a couple of minutes, so I didn’t need to interrupt them just yet. My opinion of Daisy was always changing. I thought she would have been a spoiled brat when I met her, and assumed she got her scar in a pointless fight, but now... now I know she was a good person. She lied for Raven even when it caused her so much pain. She would do anything for her friends, including Octavia. Maybe Murphy was right, maybe I was starting to care for her.
1.13
"Bellamy!" I looked up to see my sister barging into my tent. She looked worried. "I haven’t seen Daisy!"
"Okay," I shrugged. "She’s probably in her tent or the drop-ship. You know she can’t go far until her leg heals."
"She’s not there! I’ve checked with Jasper and Finn. Neither of them have seen her all day. I’ve checked everywhere bell!"
Shit. This was bad. People didn’t just disappear from camp. Unless the grounders take them, or worse. "When did you last see her?"
"She was going to Wells' grave. She had found some flowers to put down."
"Octavia, go get Clarke and meet me at the drop-ship in two minutes."
We didn’t have time for a search and rescue with the grounders closing in on us, but I was sure as hell not leaving Daisy out there to die.
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tatooedlaura-blog · 3 years
Text
Fancy Paper Napkins
because doesn’t everybody eat their fancy meals with fancy paper napkins ...
Our Moments: Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max) Chapter 5: Shadowed Grey Eyes Chapter 6: The Warmest Thing I Own Chapter 7: Fancy Paper Napkins @today-in-fic
&&&&&&&&&&
He actually slept, his mind calm, until he heard her whispering in his ear, “what are you cooking and when will it be ready?”
Opening his eyes, he saw hers staring at him, awake and bright, “what?”
“I’m hungry and I saw the crockpot plugged in.”
He broke into a grin, more from her proximity than anything else and forcing himself not to look at her mouth, not to think of that kiss, “mushrooms. Garlicy, buttery mushrooms that have been slow cooking in the crockpot,” looking over her head at the clock, “for four hours.” Sitting up quickly, “shit. I have to go stir them.”
Rolling off the bed, he disappeared down the hall, Scully close behind, “they won’t burn.”
“I’ll feel better when I see for myself.” Finally in the kitchen, he opened the crockpot, stirred with the big spoon, and glad to see the mushrooms soft and unburned, offered Scully a taste. Refusing with an, ‘I’d like to wait for dinner,’ he nodded towards the fridge, “go grab the steak, would you?”
They ate like civilized people, at the kitchen table, forks, knives, fancy paper napkins …
… “I refuse to use cloth ones because they’re too damn hard to clean.”
… “Did I say anything?”
… “No.”
… “Then why are you arguing at me?”
and a bottle of not-so-cheap wine Mulder found in his travels through Scully’s cupboards.
“I shouldn’t drink this.”
“Will it lower your inhibitions? Will you sweep off the coffee table and dance on it if I wave a bunch of ones at you? Will you tell me all your secrets?”
She couldn’t keep her hand from shaking as she poured them both glasses, “mostly I’m thinking that it’ll make me fall asleep even early that I probably would have already.”
Ignoring the tremor, “as long as you stay awake enough for ice cream.”
“I will do my best.”
She made it through half the steak, a bowl of mushroom, and three spoons of mashed potatoes, before finally giving in, trading her plate for Mulder’s empty, who continued to eat without pause. Watching him, she had to smile, “thank you.”
“For finishing your food? No problem.”
Not able to articulate at that particular moment that she was actually thanking him for a thousand things at once, she simply agreed, wondering if he’d figure it out on his own, “yeah, I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”
Giving her a grin, he finished her food, then stood, “give me ten minutes to do dishes and put everything away, then we’ll argue about movies.”
“Let me load the dishwasher, at least. You won’t do it right and I’ll just have to redo it when you’re not looking.” Standing as well, she bumped hips with him as she walked past, “save me the trouble.”
Twisting up his leg, he hit her on the butt with his stocking foot, “smartass.”
They finally settled on several movies but still sitting on the couch, facing a blank TV and a window with a sunset just beginning to tint the room pink, Mulder gently poked her in the side, “how’re you doing?”
Feeling the urge to move, to take advantage of feeling okay for the moment, “I think I’d like to go for a walk.”
Up immediately, he leaned in, kissing the tip of her nose, “any destination in mind?”
“Just … around.”
“Around it is.”
&&&&&&&&&
Warm enough to wander without jackets, they headed out her front door and turned left, bare arm brushing bare arm as they walked. They didn’t say much, commenting on scurrying squirrels here, a cute cat in the window there, Mulder catching a waywardly stumbling child tripping past, “geez, if I had known we were going to be experiencing a Norman Rockwell painting, I would have combed my hair and put on a clean shirt.”
Her laughter hit his ears like his favorite song and reaching over, he took her hand, never asking, never letting go as they circled and turned, ambled and veered. She didn’t argue, her thin, cool fingers enjoying his warmth.
But even on her best days lately, she gave in quicker than she’d have liked, 45 being the magic number of minutes she lasted until, “I think I’m ready for some ice cream.”
Giving her hand a squeeze, “ice cream it is. What kind should we start with?”
Discussion ensued and by the time they were in their pajamas, they’d settled on dark fudge and peanut butter swirl to begin with. Two spoons dove in, two spoons sampled, occasionally Scully would pull her loaded spoon out and looking at Mulder, found his mouth wide open, waiting expectantly.
And by God, she fed him.
The first time felt a little weird but by the third time he did it, she was laughing, “can you not feed yourself fast enough?”
“Nope.”
That was good enough for her.
Once the gorging finished, they’d had at least one spoonful out of each carton Mulder had bought, six in all, the flavors running the gambit and Scully full and happy and sleepy. “Are you going to be able to sleep with all that sugar in your system?”
Mulder grinned, chocolate rimming his lips, “if not, I’ll have a TV to keep me company while you drool all over your pillow.” A relieved sigh, one she didn’t know she was holding, escaped, and Mulder cocked his head, suddenly worried, “y’a’right?”?”
And deciding there was no reason not to tell him, “I think I was nervous you were going to go home tonight and,” another sigh, this one embarrassed, “it’s been a really nice day and if you went home, it would be over and,” slight wobbly smile appearing, “I don’t want it to be over just yet.”
Knowing something funny was in order, he raised an eyebrow in her direction, “is that some veiled attempt at asking me to move in here?”
Her smile steadied, “just go start the movie.”
&&&&&&&&&
Midnight rolled around and even though Scully had given in and gone to bed, Mulder was still awake and indeed watching TV, some cooking show he’d never admit to enjoying but enjoyed nonetheless. The sound was off and suddenly, the quiet of the darkened apartment was broken by Scully calling from the bedroom, “Mulder?”
It didn’t sound like a nightmare which, in his mind, could only mean she needed help. Jogging down the hall, he was in her doorway a second later, “yeah? You okay?”
Still laying down, she met his nervous gaze, her own a unique brand of terrified confusion, “am I still here?”
Immediately walking to the other side of the bed, he crawled under the covers, his hand meeting her cheek after she rolled over to face him, “yeah. You’re right here, in your bed.” When her terror didn’t fade, he continued, quieter, moving to meet her forehead with his, “you’re with me, in your apartment,” hand moving to the back of her neck, “whatever you dreamt wasn’t real.”
“It will be.” Feeling the bed shake as she hitched a silent sob, she managed a cracked whisper, “I don’t want to die.” Her fingers ran over his cheek, his ear, “I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”
The tear escaped before he could blink it away but he kept the others in, reservoir full but holding, “we’re gonna beat this. I guarantee it.”
She couldn’t bring herself to believe him anymore and she couldn’t keep up the lie at this hour, “you don’t know that.”
“But I choose to believe it.” Hand in her hair by now, he pulled her close enough that their noses were smushed together and eyelashes tangled, “I need to believe it.”
Maybe she could pretend a little more after all, “do you believe enough for both of us?”
“I believe enough for this whole damn world. You should know that by now.”
She could only nod against him, bringing their mouths to millimeter distances but refraining, crippling fear not a good enough reason to cross the line between them, “can you stay right here with me, tonight?”
He crossed it for them, a quick brush of lips, a quick nuzzle of noses, “I won’t move until you do.”
“I don’t want you to leave me alone.”
Both knew the translation of that:
I don’t want to die alone.
&&&&&&&&
The next morning, Scully opened her eyes to find Mulder still sharing her pillow, not touching anymore but close enough to have him blurry in front of her instead of clear. For five seconds, she forgot her world and felt warm fuzzies chasing through her, up and down her spine, settling low.
Then, reality set in with a resounding thud.
Pulling back, she sat up, turning quickly so he wouldn’t see the tears racing down her face. Neither could ignore the echoing sob, however and Mulder, already half-awake, sat up, confusion clearing in a heartbeat as he slid across the mattress, arm around her front, hugging her back to his chest. Kissing her neck and that hated, fucking scar, “we’re gonna win. I swear to God, we’re gonna win.”
And they cried together.
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blownbybakugou · 3 years
Text
I Am The Game
𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): 𝚃𝚘𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚒 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: Slight angst, Fluff
𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: Shigaraki poisoned Toga, but you made a cure and saved her life. Toga snapped and praised you as her god, then lead you to the league of villains, where Tomura took an interest to your quirk...
Word Count: 2.7k
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Blood, attempted murder, mention of actual murder, cussing, mind break (non-sexual), Yandere properties, tooth rotting fluff, aged up/down reader (22), slightly Ooc Toga.
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The sound of a steaming kettle is what woke Himiko, her body jerking up from its placement and her eyes flashing across the room. She was startled from her surroundings, to say the least. She was not able to recognize anything around her, then her eyes land on you, a young woman in her early 20s pouring a cup of herbal tea into a mug and treading towards the bed Toga was seated on.
“W-Who are you?” Toga asks, scooting back until she was against the wall behind her. “My name is Y/n. You were betrayed by your leader, and I saved you from your demise.” You spoke strongly. “But why?” Toga softens, her muscles relaxing the slightest bit. “I have a proposal. You being loyal, agile and brave, makes you a worthy companion. And therefore, I would like to ask you if you would join me, be my partner in crime, or whatever you wish to call it”
Your voice was silky and pristine while your expression contradicted what she heard. Your eyes were dull, but she couldn’t exactly tell what they looked like exactly, since they were settled on your lap, and had no emotion in them whatsoever and the rest of your face was soft and glowing with beauty. “You barely know me, how do you know if I am as loyal as you think I am?” Himiko questions, giving a quick grin to show off her sharp canines.
“I have watched you for quite awhile. I knew what was going to come of you, and I felt that I should recruit you as my own, since they didn’t see the potential in you.” You hand her the mug of tea you had poured and look her in the eyes for the first time. Toga was instantly entranced, the color of your eyes flourishing and dancing in her own. “Drink this. It’ll get rid of the headache you have.”
She hadn’t even noticed the pounding in her head until when you mentioned it, but she takes the herbal mix quickly, eager to please you. She gulps it down as fast as she can and sets down the mug with a bright smile. “That was good tea Y/n-Chan! Thank you.” You are taken aback by the sudden change of mood, but make no mistake to question it. Instead, you get up to put the mug in the sink of your apartment.
“So, do you accept my offer?” You query, glancing back at a very giddy Himiko. “Yes! You saved my life, how could I say no?” Her enthusiasm was confusing to you. She is a villain whom found out her own boss backstabbed her, yet she is being so trusting of you. As if you were her mother, or sister.
“Wonderful. We will be moving a lot, and before we start the murderous sprees, I believe a talk with your former boss, is in order.” You state, walking over to her with a smug smile. “Oh my god yes! This is going to be so fun!” Toga beams.
You kicked down the door with a small smirk, looking at all of the people inside and giving them a mock wave. Himiko giggles and leaps over the now broken door sending a deadly glare at Shigaraki, whom was leaned back in a chair nearby. “Hello everyone. This, is a warning. Dishonor has plagued you all, and we’ve come to rip it down. If you do not change your ways of betrayal, I shall send you all to a nightmarish hell, where you all will perish in ways unimaginable. But anyway, this is my partner, Himiko Toga. You may know her?” You send a teasing laugh in the way of Tomura.
“You are weak, especially without someone of her abilities, and you were a fool to try and kill her.” You say, moving up to his face, his scarred, oddly attractive face. He growls, and places his hand firmly on your cheek, waiting for the cries of mercy to begin. Only for you to punch him right in the nose. “What do you think you’re doing, you handsy bastard!” You yell, shaking your hand out.
Shigaraki takes a second to process the event that just played out. You didn’t decay. He touched you, with all 5 fingers, and you didn’t decay. “Who are you? And what the hell is your quirk?” His raspy voice sought out. “None of your damn business”
“Join us. You’re clearly very powerful, and we could use someone like you.” You snap you head to meet his daring orbs and glare him down. “You have nothing for me, therefore, I will not stay.” You try and shake free of his grasp, but his grip only tighten in determination to have you stay. You were the one he was meant to be with. The only one who he couldn’t kill with his deathly touch. He couldn’t lose you like this.
“Let go.” Himiko demands, clasping a knife closely behind her back. “What if I make you a deal? If the girl stays with you, you can both stay in the league. Sounds fair, right?” Shigaraki grins, pulling you into him. “That’s the boss’ choice, not mine. I follow her now.” Himiko snarls. “I shall not stay unless I hear an apology for Himiko.” You sneer, pushing yourself away from him and pulling your hand out of his.
His body jerked at the thought of admitting he was wrong. But you were worth it. You had to be worth it. “I’m sorry, Toga. I thought it would be better for the league, but I was wrong.” He grumbles begrudgingly. Your breath hitched, much like everyone else’s. You hadn’t expected him to actually apologize. You thought he would refuse you, and you and Toga could move on. But no, apparently this guy really didn’t want you to leave.
“Okay then, I suppose we can stay. Are you okay with that Himiko?” You question, looking back at your shocked friend. “Of course boss!” She cheers, giving you a loose hug around the waist. “I’m going to work on something. Toga, I need you with me.” You motion over to a booth with a table that was a bit dusty, but cleared off nonetheless.
The blonde female skipped over to the sitting area as you walked behind her, trying to ignore the scarlet eyes that followed your every movement.
You both sat on the red cushions of the booth seats, and you activate your quirk to begin the creating process. A cyber holographic screen projects out of your eyes and you let it float in the awaiting air as you reach into your backpack for your keyboard and controller.
You set them on the dust covered surface and watch as transparent green strings go to attach into each of the devices you had placed there. “Wow! Your quirk is so cool Y/n-Chan!” Himiko gushes, smiling widely and bouncing in her place.
“Thanks, I suppose. Stand and pose with your knives. Look frightening if you would.” You claim, fingers pressing against the hologram to move the surroundings inside.
Happily, Toga obliges. She puts on a face much like a yandere’s and hovers her knives with one behind her and one in front, seemingly about to strike. “Wonderful.” Your hand mindlessly reaches out to the side, scanning her body all while your other hand typed in code to enter her into your program.
Shigaraki’s vision trained intensely on your abilities, his gaze landing strictly on the translucent green display even when his eyes tried to wander further. What the fuck was your quirk? The question haunted him, he needed to know what power you held that stopped him from disintegrating your body, that let him touch you.
You could easily feel the many observations of the others around you, but you pay it no mind as you program Himiko into your game. Well, many have called it a game, but it is no game. It’s a nightmare no one would ever want to live in, let alone see. You were the one who made it into that, and you were also the one who trapped people inside of it.
You snap out of your thoughts of misery, and continue typing code while letting your scan sweep over every inch of Himiko’s form. She had done many poses for you, and you had implemented twice as many into your data base with only doing some slight editing and Himiko was evidently cheerful about it.
“You can sit back down. I have what I need now.” You say nonchalantly, your gaze not leaving your work. “Okay, got it boss!” She says, seating herself almost immediately. “Would you like to give it a try?” You ask, typing one last line of key into the system before starting and holding the controller out to Toga. “This is gonna be so fun!” She excites, throwing her arms in the air and squealing. If everyone wasn’t looking at you before, they definitely were now.
“Okay, there are 31 enemies in the area, all of which are horrendously terrifying. They plan to kill you in the most awful ways, and if you get trapped I’ll pull you out right away.” You speed through the explanation, trying to be vague about the outcomes and twists so that she could not easily defeat the monsters inside of your game. “Got it boss!” She beams, grabbing the controller and getting sucked into your algorithm.
Shiggy couldn’t believe his eyes. Did Toga just get sucked into a video game? This was his every dream, and he feels the itch to want to talk to you and claim you grow with every passing minute. “Stop being a pussy and go talk to her, Scarface.” He hears a deep voice scoff. “Whatever patchwork” Tomura retorts.
You watched Himiko pass each fictional horror character with flying colors, each one of her tactics more impressive than the last. You were implementing her fighting style into the game while also observing her movements to know when to pull her out of the fake environment.
You were snapped out of focus when you heard Shigaraki seat himself beside you and you lift your head lifting up to give him a daring glare, silently lettting him know to screw off. “I saw your quirk.” He says, pointing to the green panel before you.
“Yeah, And?” You snort, going back to typing away at your keyboard. “I want to play.” He deadpans. “Fuck no. Go away.” You retort, shooing him off. “Why the hell not?” He growls, clenching his fists tightly. “Because you’re a dick, and I don’t like you.” You exclaim.
“You sound like a fucking 5 year old! Just let me play damnit!” He demands, looking at your unaffected expression. “No.” You respond. With Tomura’s distractions, you had completely forgotten about Toga, who was finished with the main course of the levels, and was waiting to be let in.
You use your quirk to let the luscious blonde back into reality, and listen as she gushes over the details of your powerful quirk. Well, that didn’t last long due to her noticing her former boss’ presence. “What are you doing here Shigaraki?” She asks, suspicion lacing her voice.
“I want to play her game.” He states, voice raising ever so slightly. You laugh at his confidence in the matter. “Oh, honey,” You start. “I am the game. And you have to be really special if you want to play me.” You giggle, packing up your stuff and leaving him there with a heavy blush.
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ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ʙʟᴏᴡɴʙʏʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏᴜ ©
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pepperpills · 3 years
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The Harvest - RE8 Fanfic
The Harvest
A Resident Evil 8 fan fiction by Joana
Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader
Notes: heey, so here is Part III, hope you all enjoy it! i'm thinking of starting a new story soon, once this is ended, probably focusing more on world building and Karl and reader relationship hehe
Warning: NSFW content
Part I - Destiny (1) Part I - Destiny (2) Part II - The Lord
Part III – The Hunt
Getting to know the factory turned out to be a fantastic experience. You had never seem so many different paraphernalia in your live, the closer you had ever got to that was when you were a child poking around your dad’s storeroom, but there were only some tools, agriculture products and inherited ornaments from your cabin family – these last ones were your absolute favourite.
Heisenberg’s factory, on the other hand, was full of interesting things, some of them you had no idea what were used for. You even found a suspicious “torture” room, but couldn’t dig into it, once he was nearby. Still, you found his journals narrating his experiments, his audio reports and some guide books on mechanics that had you intrigued for a long time while reading them. He was a madman, you were convinced, but at the same time, that secluded part of you was growing a little each day you explored his life.
Lord Heisenberg was nicer and quieter than you would imagine. He basically lived in his various offices across the factory, mostly he would be trying new mechanisms on bodies and seeing how they reacted with the Cadou, the strange parasite the villagers mentioned only on rare and veiled conversations. As far as it wasn’t you, or your family, lying cold on one of the stretchers, you didn’t care. As a matter of fact, you felt tempted to try some things with the gears yourself as you deepen your studies in his books.
At your first days there, you got worried you would have to share the bed with him, which would be much more proximity than you had ever had with another person. The man had already seen your half naked and that was enough. However, he didn’t sleep there with you and you wondered why, once he so enthusiastically mocked you about it when you arrived. Actually, you started doubting he ever slept at all.
You were still a bit scared, though, never knowing if he would play a prank on you, so you were very careful to avoid him for a while - that didn’t endure –, believing you should give him space to get used to your presence after the mood he got into after your reception.
He was disturbed, indeed. His work was getting closer to a crucial point that involved Mother Miranda. He musted be discreet, but it was proving to be a real trial with Soldats activating and running around as lost beasts. Also, having you around actually gave him a new problem.
Lord Heisenberg would walk around the factory looking for material, testing the Soldats and cursing a lot, some of these swearwords you didn’t even know, but started liking how he used them, almost cartoonish. It was never directed to you, of course. He acted like you weren’t there most of the time, in others, when he was more chilled, with less work to do, he asked “how is the mess at the wing, buttercup?” laughing at you blushing at his indiscreet platonic flirts.
You had to find your way around the factory. That place was a labyrinth and a map would come handy, so you drew it on some clean papers you found lying around, loving not to get lost anymore. You hadn’t been face-to-face to one of his creations yet, just saw them on the production lines on the overview of the factory and on some specific rooms. You also avoided it due to fear.
He told you where the wing to be cleaned was and you found it after an hour. It was so incredibly packed with mechanical parts that you could barely come inside to take a look. Huffing, you thought that he could solve that without moving a muscle. It made you mad, but also made you wonder what you were doing there. You cleaned it anyway, as it was your duty and used that waste to build some minor projects.
At the end of your expedient, your hands were orange because of the rusty irons you were moving all day long and you had little cuts here and there, but nothing really bad. As it was going, it wouldn’t take long for you to finish cleaning and could even decorate it for him, making it feel more like home to you too.
You were liking it there. Of course, it was dusty, grey, sometimes rusty and hot all the time, but it was also very different from everything. Once you said goodbye to the cabins, then to the Village and maybe being away from Miranda’s dominance made you feel lighter.
You found some red fabric lying around somewhere, appearing to be forgotten, made some nature sketches on blank papers and put yellow lights on the bedroom and on Karl’s soon-to-be new working room. It looked cosy. You hoped he would appreciate it when he met the reformed wing, until then, you would keep quiet not to bother him.
Though, shortly after you finished decorating the bedroom, an event destroyed your plans of avoiding Heisenberg. On your daily route to what you would now call your wing, you crossed the kitchen and found an overcoat-less Karl trying to prepare a sandwich. He had any chef’s nightmare happening in that place. There were blunt knives flying around, a metal cup chasing the kettle spilling hot coffee all over the floor as he tried to open a bottle of whiskey and, finally, hot coffee hit Heisenberg’s chest and he screamed and cursed like a sore animal.
“FUCK!” He thundered, his word echoing in the corridor where you stood.
You couldn’t ignore that scene even if you tried. You were getting tired of not talking to him, you lived together now and all your few friends were slowly becoming distant memories. You would be happy to hear his voice, something else than gears rumble, even if it was cursing your predecessors.
As a powerful person, he would try to use his powers to do simple things and do a real mess instead. You felt compelled to give him some support, maybe it was a part of your mother’s care for others that lived in you too. You entered the kitchen headstrong, holding a laugh at his misery looks. Now he was stroking his shirt with a cloth and only noticed you when you were getting around the island.
You didn’t know, however, he never “never noticed” you. He felt your presence at the corridor before you saw him and he felt ashamed of you seeing him failing at a stupid task, and so forth his reaction was to be boorish.
“What?” He asked in a rude tone.
“Just let me help.” You offered, placing your hand in the air between you two. It wasn’t really an offer, you were just being polite, you would help him one way or another, you would have your small talk, but he wouldn’t give up so easily. “Please.” You asked, making the sweeter voice you could.
He huffed and threw the wet cloth on the sink. You took another cloth from one of the drawers – you were getting used to the utensils’ places –, wet it a little with water and looked at him, your head slightly tilted to the right.
“What is it, kitten?” Heisenberg questioned, roughly playful then.
“It is your shirt.” You pointed.
“Yes, it is dirty. Weren’t you trying to help?” He started to lose patience.
“Yeah, I am. It is just… You will have to take it off.” You let it out unpretentiously, although in your mind you were revengeful.
“Oh.” He understood and immediately took it off with so much easiness you wondered how many times he did that when you were so uncertain of it at your first day.
You had never seem him shirtless. To be quite sincere, you hadn’t seen many shirtless men in your life. The Village was a very cold town, once it was deep into a forest in the mountains, so even in the summer there wasn’t a hot weather, so people tended to keep their clothes on. Because of this, when he took it off you instantly blushed at his scarred chest.
He has what you would call a dad body. It isn’t really sinewy, although still very strong with thick arms and defined muscles. He has some belly, which means he isn’t a skinny person, but he isn’t fat also. And maybe you took too long looking at him like that and feeling weird feelings you would think about later that night.
“You’re almost drooling there, buttercup.” He teased you and when you quickly, but gently, started cleaning his chest with the cloth, so you wouldn’t have to answer, he gave up a deliciously loud laugh.
You laughed with him, making him laugh even harder. You didn’t want to admit it, but you liked it, this casual connection between you two. The laugh died a gradual death and you started moving you hand on his chest, feeling its warmth below the cloth. You could almost swear his breathing was getting faster and you saw he was biting his lips, maybe because you were taking too long. You didn’t want to finish, but you both know there wasn’t much coffee on him anyway.
You put the cloth with the other one in the sink and as you watered them, you saw him going to get his shirt that had been laying on the island.
“No, no, no.” You said, taking it from his hands kind brusquely, making him confused. “I need to wash these.”
“I see.” He said, raising his hands to show he wouldn’t try again, as a peace offer that made you grin.
“I can finish your sandwich for you, it will only take a minute.” You added, embarrassed to be so bossy with him.
“I will be at my office.” He told you and left without looking back.
You thought he got mad at you because of the shirt situation. It made you sad, you started having a nice approach. To compensate you made him a really good sandwich with the meat and vegetables you found in the refrigerator. Searching for food there you considered asking him to go see the Duke and buy supplies, maybe even hunt, because you didn’t have enough provisions. Anyway, you also prepared the coffee, poured a glass of cowboy whisky – sipped one, two or three times yourself – and cleaned what was there to be cleaned. It took more than one minute, but less than teen.
You were heading to his office when you heard a muffled noise. It sounded guttural and made you shiver. Electricity running through your body, making you feel hopelessly exposed, only that countered by the alcohol it felt good. You stepped carefully as you got closer to the door. You considered not knocking, but the noise made you knock.
“Just…” He gasped. “Leave it at the door, please.” Heisenberg was painting, but he asking “please” was what made up your mind, that politeness wasn’t usual, so you did what he requested.
You wanted to be around him on that day, but chose to respect his privacy. You didn’t imagine that his mind was blowing with you, he desperately wanted to continue the kitchen talk, but couldn’t give himself the chance once he was so close to perfecting the Soldats.
To ease your thoughts, as you were no longer requested at the factory, you tested your stealth skills and slipped to the forest behind it, caring your bow and arrows determinedly.
You were familiar with that area as you have hunted all around the Village, thus, you knew where to go to find good preys. It was by the lake were the deer stopped to drink water. It was far from the factory entrance, but again, you knew exactly what you were doing. When approaching the lake, you climbed a tree and waited.
It didn’t take long until a lonely deer appeared, unsuspicious. It leaned its head so it could reach the water level and started drinking it. You positioned one arrow, held your breath and did the physics magic. The arrow nailed its left eye. It didn’t scream, it was over very quickly.
You climbed the tree down, came closer to the body and tied it with the rope you brough from the factory. Your way back wasn’t effortless, you were slower due to the extra weight and the lycans sensed its blood, their sounds were all around you. They wouldn’t hurt your, though, somehow, they knew you were with Heisenberg.
It was past four in the afternoon when you reached the factory, panting with the effort of bringing the deer. Heisenberg was poking around for something in his front yard. He noticed you just as you appeared in his peripherical vision. He walked towards you, with an intrigued expression that transformed into an impressed one when he saw the deer.
“Some gifts you have there, kitten, ain’t gonna lie.” He commented, squatting to take a good look at the animal. “How did you do that?” It was clear he didn’t mean to offend, quite the opposite, he was genuinely curious.
“A girl has her secrets.” You answered, when you finally stop panting, shrugging when internally you are fulfilled someone knew about you hunting and didn’t seem mad at you.
He wasn’t even angry you left the factory without his permission, which made you happier. He stood below you with the animal for a few seconds more, than got up on his feed, laid his hands on your shoulders, well, on your skin hunting jacket, and said “You are really something, kitten.”
You fell for his words. You never wanted to feel that dependant on someone’s appreciation for you, but with him it was lighter. Karl took the weight of the world off your shoulders by bringing you there and kind off supporting you even though you had only spent little more than a month together.
“Thank you, my lord.” You spoke.
“Stop it. Call me Karl.” He said roughly, but good hearted. “Now, do you know how to clean this deer?” Heisenberg asked.
Usually, Duke would do it for you, although you knew the theory, you hadn’t much practice.
“I was hoping you could help me with it, Karl.” You suggested, toasting him a malicious smile.
“For fuck’s sake.” But he cursed laughing.
He cleaned this table at the garage and disposed the deer there. You helped him doing the messy job, learning with him what you only saw the Duke doing. It wasn’t pretty, but you were comforted by his presence and obstinacy. He probably did it often as it showed, but didn’t bother to take it slower so he could teach you.
Heisenberg enjoyed that night more than you could imagine. He didn’t care for the Soldats, they could wait, it was nice being around you for a change, not running away from your hair, your smile, your presence. For the first time in his life, he actually had someone who wanted to be around him.
Later your prepared venison, demi-glace, potatoes, a fresh arugula salad and both of your enjoyed dinner at the kitchen island with bottles of dark beer. He was funny, he was tripping over words a little, due to the alcohol, but his stories, oh man… He was a real brat. You told him about the cabins and the hunting. He listened carefully, never judging you and laughed at your silly manners, at your etiquette and, over all, loved your cook.
He slept in the bed with you, tired, amused and drunk, he sunk in his dreams. You stayed up a bit longer, resisting your lazy eyes temptations just to appreciate his scent, it would smell like burned wood.
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the-acid-pear · 3 years
Text
Scarface was too fucking boring, didn't make it past chapter 3, but that's good, because that means Baki-Dou time 😍
Time to read the fourth book in this series! Excited to see Musashi <3
Chapter 1
COLORS
Baki please stop flexing
A FELLA SAYING THE SAME I SAID WHEN YUJIRO PULLED HIS SOB STORY, FR GO TRY SOMETHING ELSE! What happened with that whole "i don't care about fighting" eh Baki?!
Chapter 2
HOHO ALI JR???
ah no :/
HOLY FUCK is this quality bad!
He wants to taste defeat i see
TOKUGAWA PLEASE STOP SMOKING
Oh they removed the... Egg in the back of the neck, nice
God this guy's tits so fat 🥵
FINALLYYY HOW LONG SINCE WE SAW A FIGHT IN THE ARENA? A PROPER FIGHT I MEAN
Chapter 3
He doesn't even know 🐍
DON'T BRING THAT FELLA HERE RETSU KICKED HIS ASS IN TIME. RECORD
Oh i saw fanart of this scene
Baki, it's your fault that you are bored, you fucking teen
This shit boring ME
Chapter 4
Oh, goroukou is a title
I like how the prime minister is becoming a recurrent character
I thought he said babe for a sec-
That little "oh~" is a bit sus, are the old men... No, it can't be 😳😳😳
I'm fucking choking fuck
GOD ALMOST READ THAT AS JOHN CENA 😭
"yes <3"
These ppl never learn
Chapter 5
What a way to go, a la gamzee /j
This dude so weird lmao
FAHDGAHDH king
Dude he has huge round eyes tf you talking bout?
IGDUFSUEASEUURSS he's such a freakkk 😭😭😭
This is the most wtf thing Baki has pulled, remember when this was about fighters fighting? I don't know enough about science for this shit either man
Okay so their hug wasn't Tokugawa being touchy like he is, this guy is even worse, se juntaron el hambre y las ganas de comer HSHAFSFG
Chapter 6
Baki's dead
Katsumi about to kill get killed by my grandpa i see
ALSO KATSUMI OG HAIR WOOO
Katsumi bro don't be so happy over nearly killing him-
I love seeing him get better tho
Uwaadgsgsjdga 😍😳🤤 twisting my hair irl,,, 🥴
Finally Motobe remembered he was a character here 😐
FSGSHDAHDA KOSHO PLS
I LOVE that they got dark lips again
IM SORRY GOUKI HOW DO YOU KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT EVERYONE?! LTDKFsjyrd 😭
Jack's scar looks cool ngl
Retsu living the good life lmao
AND HOW DO YOU KNOW, GRANDPA?
Hana just doesn't care, smartest Baki character lmao
Idk what they talking bout but good for em <3
Cum basement
Chapter 7
SHOW US MUSASHI'S COCK
Obsessed he thought his heart was failing 😭
Dude you can just hear the heart beat of your friends/opponents just like that? 🤨
Notice Gaia in the top left 🥴
WHY CAN HE RECOGNIZE EACH OF THEIR HEARTBEATS AAHSGA
Thick 🥵
Unironically built different
Chronic back pain if you ask me, that's how I stand to relieve my agony
Did. Did you just call him a femb-
STOP SHOWING ME PANELS FROM VAGAMOND
I love John sm lmao
Mr Musashi has 2 (3?) dads
Chapter 8
HAIRY LEGS 🥴
Those things look like boobs
Bet you would know eh SHAFADB
They jerked off the mummy?
Reminds me of eye surgery
AFjshAFDGAJAHAF
Mf came out the tube ripped af 😭
Chapter 9
Everyone is so feminine lately good ol Kureha fell behind 😭
I like his bandana tho it's cute
OH HE TOO? AND HE'S NOT EVEN THAT STRONG
Fat tits 🥴
Eheojeudkshs 😖😳👉👈
JACK STOP YOU ARE BIG ENOUGH ALREADY
HOLY FUCK
You know like i understand Baki, he is at the highest he can be rn, NO ONE can defeat him, but the rest? Like c'mon y'all just beat each other up or something
Ah, the miracle of birth 😍
Chapter 10
I love how all these two do is hang out together in bars, boybosses
TF IS UP WITH THAT ICE? AHDHS
I love what they have
Hana thinking of getting his 4 limbs broken again i see
WOOO!! Nice cock Mr Musashi 😳
HANAYAMA PLEASE 😐
Chapter 11
I love those freaks
I just now I'm seeing the little scars on his cheeks from the fight with Spec ☺️
I love the fact that Musashi has hair in his legs BUT not his arms like ??? Okay king
Heated scientist moment
HOHO POGGERS 👀
Chapter 12
UTSURAARSDFAFA sibling goals
GIRLBOSS 😍
URAURUSYRSAESGA IN LOVE???
Holy shit she's amazing
Chapter 13
And his ass is very thick too 😳
Those fucking sunglasses, obsessed
Debatable, he got struck by lightning :/
HE WAXES HIS HAIR? OMFG OBSESSED
WHY IS HE WEARING THAT LMAO 😭
Nooo they censored the cock again 😔😔😔
DO IT QWEEN 💅
STOP SAYING SHE'S GONNA FUCK THE CLONE
"I'm exciteddddd" "ok."
Chapter 14
You just hate seeing a girlboss win
She truly is amaizing
Also i just realized spirits have been showing up since the first book so this isn't so crazy lol
MF HOW IS THAT GONNA HELP 😭😭😭
THE LITTLE BUBBLES AND SPARKLES... I BET HE DID 🥺
Chapter 15
WHY ARE HIS TITS SO ROUND AND FAT GODDAMN IT,,, 😳😖
Glad seeing some things never change
He looks so much like Jun
IGSITSURAURZES EPICCC
Someone question if Yujiro knew how too write obsessed,,,
Chapter 16
Goddamn it you got even older in the past 3 or so chapters bro
Mouth to mouth soul transference
OHHH
HIS EYEBROWS FELL HOW IGDUTSITDIYDIGD
Some mf got turned on by this HELP 😭
Chapter 17
I love how Yujiro and Hana are still getting ready to throw hands while this happens lol
Okay yeah that was super disrespectful honestly, guy is having a chat :/
HAHAGSJAHA obsessed
God i thought it was Hana the one grabbing some random lady for a second AFDJSJSSJS
He cute af ngl
POOR GUY MUST BE SO CONFUSED OMFG,,,
Fsr I'm surprised he can talk, like it should be obvious but in all the fanart i saw he never said a word, also, he's so damn respectful 😍
Chapter 18
Idk he was never that clever /hj
Hehehe blood
I love how John can only sit that way
The size of his balls lmao
Coward won't even fight with his dick out smh :/
God he mad cute-
Chapter 19
I MISS THE DEATH ROW FELLAS FUCKKK
Hm i think this random tiny bald man is not Tokugawa but someone that looks awfully similar to him
YEAH NO SHIT I FEEL SO BAD FOR HIM, HE MUST BE SO DAMN OVERWHELMED
Apparently there was a cameo, i don't know enough about anime to know or care
Chapter 20
He's tripping balls
Tokugawa should have gone a bit slower with this poor guy, this is like a lot to process at once <:/
Nvm he's doing better than me
Oydirsusefs look at himmm
WAIT A FUCKING SECOND OMFG DIDN'T DOPPO FIGHT THIS GUY?!
SOMEONE ELSE RECOGNIZED HIM HE ISSS
Chapter 21
OHDIRAYEASURRSUURS HE DOESN'T KNOWWW FFS
Musashi be like °_°
LOOK AT THAT SMILE LMAO
He's just chilling, mentally killing this dude
Murder baby
Chapter 21
The way his eyes are drawn is so cool
YRAURSUFSIDTGA
And he jokes too! Wow I'm in love 😍
(nsfw) CAN YOU HANDLE DICK LIKE THAT TOO? 😍
WOW
I TAKE BACK THAT QUESTION
I remember a show where you would bring your own knives and swords and go thru a bunch of test, Musashi should have been one of them
Mf truly is like :]
I love how he didn't buy it
I can't wait for him to fight Yujiro 😍
Chapter 23
He truly is 😌
ATFJAIDQYSF OBSESSED
He was happy this time at least, 5 times he lost already btw
Tokugawa truly in unhateable lmao
Chapter 24
IM SORRY, HIS LEG???
Oh I forgot Musashi does that
JAGSKSGSKSGS HIS FUCKING FACE I CAN'T 😭
I miss when translators would add notes i don't want to google shit myself :/
"I'm hard as rock" /j
Chapter 25
Look how happy he issss
MUSASHI POG MUSASHI POG-
I love how Tokugawa can't believe he got it first try and it's trying to lie now sjdakdyv
This mf is actually making me insane what the actual fuck i don't know what he has but he's gonna make me act up 😳
Mf be shadow boxing too dammit /j
Baki please
Chapter 26
OLD MAN JUST WANTS A PUBLIC TO SEE THIS LMAO
Look at the size of Baki's eyes holy fuck lmao
He's gonna yeet him!
OH NOOOO
FIRST HIS DAD NOW MUSASHI, THIS GUY CANT CATCH A BREAK LMAO
Chapter 27
How little time passed? They have barely moved
Yeah you did it last book too Baki
King shit
Chapter 28
AKSGSKGSJSGS KING
I love how he only now realized
Okay no he has a point
I love how he just calls him boy
Look at that smug face
I trust Musashi but at the same time he, really should be walking around this new world alone. Now, if i were to accompany him... 🥴/j
Baki please
Chapter 29
I love how soft the artstyle suddenly got, like if done big a big brush
Yujiro you just insulted every single anime character in history
Baby Baki's just like "Ok."
I like how Yujiro looks here
AUGHHJF HE'S SO BABY 🥺
HOHO badass
Chapter 30
He died 😔
Idiot hasn't even beat he 0.5 reaction seconds lmao 🤣
HOHOOOOO?!? 👁️👁️
"my curiosity exceed my fear!!" I RESPECT THIS MAN SO MUCH??
Chapter 31
AMAIZING HONESTLY
Fighter to fighter communication
SHIT LOOK AT THE STATE OF THAT HAND
He's just gone now LMAO
I honestly don't mind Baki being weak against this, he never fought against a two handed swordman, this is new territory
Chapter 32
Oh his really tripping balls now this is why he shouldn't be alone
NVM HE'S STILL DOING BETTER THAN ME ON A DAILY BASIS, I HAVE A LOT TO LEARN FROM THIS MAN
I just now realized he's barefoot
Nice ass king
The policemen are quite nice
He's very cooperative but i can't blame the cops either
Chapter 33
Yeah no shit that must be so insane
IF YOU HADN'T DROPPED OFF SCHOOL THEN...
That's kinda funny but idk man he's right i think
He's just like :3
I love how he isn't picking up a fight out of malice but rather just instinct like, he can't understand shit that is going on
YOU ARE SO RIGHT BAKI IT ISN'T BORING FOR ME EITHER
Chapter 34
Don't you fucking dare shave him Itagaki
It's funny how it took 2 books and a half for Baki to start being a protagonist
Holy fuck did Baki add height or is Miyamoto that big?
Wow how perfect i ran out of space just now!! Having fun with this book ngl :]
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aceofspadegrass · 3 years
Text
Breakfast with Squirrels
Characters: Tatta Koudai, Arisu Ryohei, Aguni Morizono (Although never named.)
Genre: Fluff. Just Tatta having a nice morning. Then nearly getting attacked by Catra.
1.5k words
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Tatta woke up with the sound of squeaking and sun gently filtering through the window. He yawns, sitting up and stretching as he feels his hat get dragged along his lap, a slight pressure underneath. Tatta opens his eyes and grabs the top of his treasured hat, the head of his good squirrel friend Henry peeking out as Tatta pulls his hat on. Tatta gently pats the top of Henry’s head with a finger, the squirrel chittering and climbing up Tatta, crawling underneath his hat. Tatta actually isn’t sure how Henry could breathe up there, but every time he checked Henry was completely okay.
“ Okay, time to start the day. I’ll grab you some food when we head down, okay?” Tatta tells Henry as he heads to the bathroom to do his morning routine. Afterwards, he starts his trip downstairs, waving a greeting at every person he passed with a smile, even as most of them ignore him, too involved with themselves to really acknowledge him.
That didn’t matter right now, Tatta didn’t mind. He heads to the dining hall and into the kitchen, which was a little filled with people preparing breakfast for the day, Tatta carefully avoiding their paths to get to the pantry. Pulling out a bag of hazelnuts and some dried bananas, he fills a small bowl with them, along with grabbing himself an apple to eat himself. Tatta heads outside and sits at a table, setting the bowl down and tilting his hat up so Henry could climb down. The squirrel opts to crawl down his face today, Tatta chuckling in amusement as Henry climbs over his neck to get down to the table, taking his arm like a train rail. Henry makes it to the bowl, happily munching down on the items offered. Tatta eats his apple and watches Henry chew at the hazelnut shell with the determination of a warrior, and moves his attention to around the dining hall. It was full of people waiting and eating their own breakfasts, a few tables still empty as it waited for others to soon wake up and take their places.
Nobody came to sit by Tatta, but again, that was alright for him. His friend wasn’t usually awake at this time anyways, so Tatta was allowed a moment of being alone with his squirrel friend. He doesn’t exactly remember where Henry even came from. It was just a case of finding a squirrel that ended up living with him, happy enough to hide underneath his hat at all hours of the day. Henry at least stayed behind before games, Tatta not wanting to accidentally hurt his small rodent friend in any of the games.
As he watches the people come in, and as people are served their daily breakfast from the kitchen, he sees Arisu walk in by himself, watching something that went along the floor, obscured by the tables so Tatta couldn’t properly see what it was. Tatta raises a hand to wave at Arisu with a smile, Arisu actually looking over and smiling back with a wave in return.
That at least made Tatta’s day, and Arisu comes over to Tatta, sitting across from him.
“ Hey Tatta, what’s up?” Arisu greets him, and Tatta can only shrug. He was a little tired from having to roll tires across the Beach after someone moved the tires and switched them with the pool floats, as well as the game he participated in last night. It was a simple one at least, nothing too taxing on him. He still doesn’t know why the game involved hiding a pineapple on his person, but who was he to judge the games. They could get terrifying, and a game of hide the pineapple wasn’t too bad.
“ Nothing much. I don’t think I have anything to do today, actually! I think I’m just gonna take the day to relax. Maybe by the pool!” Tatta tells Arisu, Henry loudly chewing on a piece of nut. Arisu smiles a little at that, and looks away briefly, thinking about something. Tatta just finishes his apple while he waits, Arisu eventually looking back at him.
“ Wanna hang out with Usagi and I? We might be by the pool today as well, chatting about random things. If you don’t mind.” “ Of course not, I would love to hang out with you guys!” It sounded like a nice plan, hanging out with Arisu and Usagi. Tatta thought they were really neat people, and nice too. Tatta liked their company.
Arisu goes away for a bit to grab himself food, leaving Tatta all alone again with Henry, who was still eating. At least, was eating, until something spooks the small squirrel, Henry scrambling up to higher ground and settling on the very top of Tatta’s head. Tatta was confused, and he looks around, only to freeze when his eyes look eyes with a lynx, very much staring up at Tatta.
The lynx had a little harness on it, curiously enough, like a dog. Attached to said harness was what appeared to be a knife of all things, unsheathed and very dangerous to anyone who dared even brush past the beast. “ Wh- Huh? Why is there a whole like….. giant bobcat here-“ Tatta leans away from the lynx, as if that would help anything, the animal only stalking closer. Henry makes a noise, clinging to the top of Tatta’s hat for dear life, Tatta’s heartbeat racing. He really didn’t want to become lynx chow, especially here, where he was supposedly was safe from the dangers of being outside and surviving on his own.
The lynx licks its lips, and pounces, Tatta shutting his eyes and expecting an impact.
Only…. that impact never comes, and Tatta creaks open an eye, only to see the lynx hanging there, that spooky military guy with the scar holding it by its harness with an almost disappointed dad look. He looks to Tatta, who was trembling a little, and then back at the lynx in his hand, which he near tosses off, the lynx racing off from them, deterred from trying to try again.
“ You’re alright now.” That was all the man said before he leaves, Tatta trying to calm his poor heart from whatever that was. He reaches up to check on Henry, the squirrel curled up further back on his hat, his tiny squirrel heart beating just as quickly, if not more. He leaves him up there to recollect himself, hoping the undue stress didn’t hurt his friend. Tatta wouldn’t like it if Henry left him so soon. He’d probably cry if that did happen.
Arisu comes back with food, and pats Tatta’s shoulder with a concerned smile when he saw Tatta. “ You okay? You’re a little pale. Here, have some milk.” Arisu hands him his carton of milk, Tatta trying to deny it at first, but Arisu’s worried face made him rethink it. He takes the milk with a small thank you, and sips a little, taking a deep breath.
“ What happened while I was gone?” Arisu asks when Tatta felt more stable, Henry deciding to hide under his hat for his own personal comfort. Tatta looks to the side, where that man and the lynx disappeared off to, people going in and out and keeping Tatta from really knowing whether they were still in the dining hall at all. When he felt like there was no danger, he turns his attention back to Arisu, who chews on the end of a cereal bar.
“ We…. almost got attacked by a really huge grey cat.” Tatta answers. “ It was like a bobcat, but not brown like I expected? Like a tiny snow leopard.” He pauses, trying to think of the name. He wasn’t really a master at naming specific animals though, just the basics, really.
“ Oh, I know what you’re talking about! Yeah, I was watching it earlier. It has a knife strapped to it, right?” Tatta nods, eyes widening. “ Exactly! That was so weird, right? Why is it armed with a knife?” Arisu shrugs. Tatta didn’t get it at all. It seemed kind of dangerous to arm a predator with a knife when it had knives quite practically built into its paws. But then again, at least it wasn’t armed with a full on turret or a gun. Or even worse, armed with rocket launchers. That would be a sight to see.
Hopefully he didn’t run into it the rest of the day. He wanted to hang out with Arisu and Usagi in peace.
…. Tatta probably jinxed it though. He sighs internally. Maybe if he’s lucky he can outrun a cat with a knife. Or at least hide before it got him and Henry. There was no way he was fighting off that.
The slight movement underneath his hat takes him out from his thoughts. No, of course he’ll be fine. Henry will be fine, he’s gonna make sure of that! Just gotta…. make sure not to cross the knife wielding lynx. Easy enough, it can’t be that hard.
He’s probably jinxing it again.
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tahitianmangoes · 4 years
Text
The Beast in Me - Chapter One
Pairing(s): GN!Reader/Arthur Morgan  (Minor: John/Abigail, Kieran/Mary-Beth)
Summary: You never thought you'd be heading home to the ranch but after your father passed away and leaves the ranch to you, that's exactly where you find yourself. Nothing much has changed about Strawberry or the surrounding areas since you left... Apart from the rumours that there's something lurking in the woods. Something that isn't an animal at all...
Tags/triggers: Werewolf AU, Not canon compliant, gender neutral reader, mild gore, mild horror
Notes: All 3 parts available on AO3 
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The beast in me Is caged by frail and fragile bars Restless by day And by night rants and rages at the stars
 ****
 You had never cared for scary stories, ghosts, ghouls and the like. You weren’t scared of things that go bump in the night and didn’t believe in the local gossip of creatures that would snatch up children who played too far from the town or strange sounds from the mountains. Ghosts and ghouls didn’t exist. People do.
**** 
Daddy had never really been the same since mama passed. He took it hard, real hard. You visited him twice a year if you could find the time but he wasn’t the same man who had raised you.
Maybe a part of him died when your mama had. And now the rest of him had died too.
Consumption, the doctor had said over the telephone; he’d hidden it pretty well from you, just telling you that it was the cold getting to his chest and you’d believed him or maybe you had wanted to. You knew he hadn’t wanted to worry you. The doctor said he had passed in his sleep. The ranch hand had found him the next day. It had been peaceful, apparently. You sure hoped so.
So you quit your job in Saint Denis and took the long train ride back home. Autumn in Lemoyne was very different to that of West Elizabeth. The days were still hot, the sun seemed merciless sometimes but as the train rattled into Riggs Station, it felt like you were in a different country. Night was drawing in already; it always seemed to draw in faster out west. You could feel the chill of wind that swirled around your feet and the few leaves left on the trees rustled melancholically.
There was no one else left on the train by now, most people had gotten off at Valentine so only you headed into the wood cabin that was the station, a far cry from the bustling Saint Denis station.
The clerk was busy lighting lanterns as you had walked in but he greeted you all the same. “Good evenin’. Can I help you?” “Yeah,” you replied, “do you know when the stagecoach will arrive?” “Arrive?” The clerk repeated, sounding confused as he went back behind the counter. “Well it just left not fifteen minutes ago.” You sighed before asking when the next one would come. “Not til tomorrow mornin’ I’m afraid. Where do you need to go?” “You know White Bison Ranch?” “Sure, I know it - out by Little Creek River... Wait! Are you takin’ the place over?” You nodded. You’d hoped to get there before it got too late but it looked like that wouldn’t be happening now, the sky was already bleeding black, like ink onto parchment. “Well I’m sorry, there won’t be nothin’ til the mornin’.”
“I could take ya.”
The new voice made you turn, startled. There was a man sitting inside the cabin that you hadn’t noticed. He stood as he spoke to you. “I can take you as far as Strawberry if that helps?” “It’s certainly better than sleeping here tonight.” You replied and he smiled. The man was tall and slender, his hair dark and down past his collar, his eyes a glittering hazel and kind. The left side of his face was scarred, as if he had been in an animal attack but it didn't make him any less handsome. He held out his hand to you. “John Marston.” You shook his hand and reciprocated his greeting with your name. “I’m waitin’ on a delivery from Blackwater, shouldn’t take too long now then we can get you to Strawberry.” He told you. Just as he said that, a wagon pulled up and a man hopped down, “Mr Marston? I have the medicines you ordered.” “Thanks,” John said gruffly, taking the parcel from the man almost furtively. You followed John Marston around the side of the cabin to where his buggy was. He put the parcel in the back then helped you with your luggage and then you got up on the buggy with him.
You made your way to Strawberry, the buggy trundled along the uneven road that you hadn’t been down in such a long time. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.” John said, “he was a kind man. Me and my boy, Jack helped him out with the lambing just this spring gone by.”
“Thank you... “ you replied. You felt guilty that you hadn’t been there to help; once upon a time it would have been you to help with the lambing though you remembered being squeamish at the sight when you were younger. You weren't no rancher, at least you thought you weren't. As soon as you had reached eighteen, you had left home in search of a better life and more money than what a dairy could get you. You’d headed for the bright lights if Saint Denis, not only was it as far away from the ranch you’d grown up on physically but in every other sense. The people of Saint Denis were nothing like those of Strawberry or the surrounding areas and you liked that.
You never thought you'd be going back like this but of course you had known your daddy couldn't keep on at it forever. You were the sole benefactor of the ranch and everything he had worked for his entire life… Which wasn’t a lot but it was enough for you to be able to leave your job in Saint Denis and come back home.
Home.
It felt alien. Yet as you neared Strawberry, nothing had changed that you could see. All the buildings and the people… Everything looked the way it had the day you had left.
When you reached the Strawberry hotel, Mr Marston stopped the buggy. “Here we are. I wish I could extend my hospitality to you more but I have to get home. I got my boy and my wife and my brother… He ain’t a well man and I need to help take care of him... We own the stables just outside o’ Strawberry, maybe when you’re settled in you could stop by?” “I’d like that very much. You’ve been very kind, thank you Mr Marston.” You got down from the buggy and so did he, he helped you with your luggage again before tipping his hat to you, bidding you good night and riding away.
The hotel was warm, walls were deep burgundy and a large fire was cracking in the main room, casting large, looming shadows. You weren’t keen on the taxidermied animals that were displayed everywhere, a buck, a mountain lion and most prominently a large grizzly bear that stood behind the main doors, staged reared on its hind legs with a mean look on its face.
The clerk was friendly enough and luckily there was a room available for you. “You came from Saint Denis, you say?” The clerk asked as he helped you upstairs with your luggage and showed you to your room. “That must have been one hell of a journey. Why don’t I get a bath ready for you?” “Sounds good,” you smiled.
The bath was hot and just what you needed after a long day’s travel. Once cleaned and dressed, you headed back downstairs to see if the hotel offered food. The clerk told you they did and you ordered and waited towards the back of the main room which now had candles on every table.
Towards the front of the room were two well dressed women sitting across from each other on plush sofas smoking and talking. “You tell me then, Willamina - What did Mr Jones see when he was out night fishin’ at Owanjila Lake?” One said a little hotly to the other. The one called Willamina laughed, “Mr Jones was three sheets to the wind, Francesca. He probably saw a wild boar or a buck and tried to save face when he came tearin’ back into town, scared like a little kid to his momma! What was it he said? Eight feet tall? Red eyes? Claws as long as butcher knives?!” Francesca bristled, ���well, you won’t catch me going into the woods on my own, that’s for sure!”
“And rightly so, Miss Alehart,” came a man's drawling voice.
You’d been looking away, staring at the front of a newspaper that had been left on the table pretending to read it but really, listening in on their conversation but now you looked up. A man you couldn’t say you’d noticed had joined them, hovering by the sofas. He was tall, dressed in black aside from his hat which was cream, maybe in his early forties and had scraggly blond hair.
“You shouldn't go into them woods without precautions.” He told Francesca and Willamina, speaking each syllable of the word precautions quite deliberately as he reached down to his gun belt and drew his revolver quickly, aiming at the taxidermied bear in the foyer and mimed shooting it, “ya never know what's a-lurkin' out there… waitin’ for you…”
“Oh Mr Bell!” Willamina exclaimed, “don’t be so dramatic.” “Oh I ain’t being dramatic,” Mr Bell replied, his voice low and almost taking on a sultry tone. “The things I’ve seen out there,” he said gesturing to the door of the hotel, “why... It would make your blood run cold. O’ course, I could always help keep you safe… if you ever needed protection’.”
You could feel the atmosphere turning very awkward very quickly. You glanced over again. The two women had gotten to their feet “We’ll let you know if we ever need a man of your specimen to protect us, Mr Bell. Good evening.” Willamina said coldly. With that, they left the hotel.
Mr Bell didn’t seem too concerned and chuckled to himself. You were aware of his icy blue eyes on you from under the brim of his hat but you ignored him. At that moment, the clerk appeared with your dinner and you made small talk with him to keep Mr Bell at bay.
 ****
 The next morning you took the stagecoach to the ranch where you were due to meet Kieran Duffy, the ranch hand who had been helping your daddy out over the last few years. It felt strange coming back to the ranch after all this time. You remembered the trail as if it were only last week that you had ridden it, even some of the trees seemed the same and the way the trail dipped here and there had a comforting familiarity about it.
The stagecoach pulled up to the mouth of the ranch and Kieran almost ran out to greet you. He was a skinny man, with wide, light eyes peering out beneath the wide brim of his hat. He shook your hand enthusiastically, “your daddy was always talkin’ bout you. It’s a shame you didn’t get to be with him in the end… proud man your daddy, didn’t even want to accept my help even when he couldn’t walk but three steps without needin’ to rest!”
Maybe Kieran could see that he’d been a little insensitive because his eyes widened further still. “I… I uh… He was peaceful at the end.” The doctor had told you that much. You smiled weakly at Kieran, aware that it may come off as more of a grimace. He did his best to smile back. “Why don’t I show you round? Must have changed a bit since you was last here.”
It hadn’t, it really hadn’t. The house and barn still looked the same, even down to the same white paint peeling from the exterior. Kieran showed you the animals, sheep and a few dairy cows and around the back were chickens. "Mr Watson Jr from the general store comes by on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays to collect eggs and milk,” Kieran explained.
By the side of the house was a small stable with a couple of horses inside, a palomino morgan named Cash and a black and white appaloosa called Domino. “They’re both fine horses. Cash is better for shorter distances but Domino is better for longer hauls and doesn't scare so easily,” Kieran said, patting them both fondly on the muzzle before giving each a sugar cube.
Sat on the porch was a fawn coloured chesapeake bay retriever who perked up when it saw Kieran approach. “This is Bran, he’s real good at keepin’ foxes and greedy coyotes away from the chickens.” Bran barked playfully at this, as if he understood what Kieran was saying. Kieran leaned down to scratch the dog behind the ear before looking back up at you and swallowing, “uh… I... Maybe you’d wanna take a look in the house by yourself?” You nodded at him. “Thank you, Mr Duffy.”
That smell. The scent of home knocked all the air out of your lungs and filled you from top to bottom and edge to edge. Autumn leaves, wood shavings, something warm that you couldn’t quite place. Home. Your home. The home you had grown up in and then eventually left.
It was silent inside. Still. You could hear the clock ticking in the kitchen. Outside Bran barked again. You felt comforted yet also like you shouldn’t be there, like a trespasser. Your fingertips glided along the wooden bannister as you ascended the stairs and looked in your old bedroom. A knot formed in your chest when you saw that it had been left exactly the way it had been when you left for Saint Denis almost six year ago. Your bed was freshly made, as if it had been expecting you to come back some day. And now you had.
You swallowed as you crept back down the corridor and towards your parents room; the room the doctor had informed you that daddy had passed in and the same room mama had passed in eleven years prior to that. For one fleeting second, you thought, maybe you would die in here too. You shook the thought away. Silly.
The windows of the bedroom were open and the cold breeze ripped through the room so much so that you shivered. Folding your arms across your chest, you went back downstairs and outside to Kieran who offered to help you unpack.
You soon discovered that Kieran Duffy was a kind and sweet man. He lived just outside of Strawberry with his wife. He talked about her a lot, real proud of her, said her name was Mary-Beth and that she wrote novels. You were glad of his chatter, the noise filled the house and it felt less empty. Soon enough however, the night was drawing in again and he told you he had to head home.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said, an element of a question in the statement, “that is if you still need me to help out with the animals and such?” “Mr Duffy, what I know about caring for these animals can be written on a cigarette box. Of course I want you to come back tomorrow!” Kieran’s boyish face lit up and he smiled, “then I’ll be here bright and early. Good night.”
Kieran mounted his own horse, a flaxen Tennessee Walker and trotted down the path of the ranch and into the woods out of sight.
You managed to get a fire going in hearth in the living room, the crackling was comforting and reminded you of when you were little; you’d sit on daddy’s knee while mama embroidered and he would read to you - all sorts of stories about princesses and princes, about magical fairies or witches and people who lived on the other side of the world who spoke completely different languages. When you settled yourself in front of the fire, Bran padded over and lay down. He gave a big sigh and fell asleep. You smiled, “me too, boy, ” you said to him quietly, “me too.” **** Maybe you’d become too accustomed to the city. The wheels of wagons and horses hooves clattering on stone paths, people shouting and calling to each other and the whistle departing trains was something you could, and regularly did, sleep through but the silence of the woods was too loud. Eerie and almost frightening. You tossed and turned in your old bed, unable to drift off into a sleep that lasted more than fifteen minutes. Outside you could hear elks crying and the creaking of the trees that swayed in the wind. Animals chirped and screamed and you were reminded of those times that you were afraid as a child. You used to go into your parents room and whimper, “I’m scared..!” Your mama would laugh, “don’t be silly, sweet thing. You’re safe in here with mama and daddy.” She’d send you back to your room and you’d curl up under your blanket with your eyes squeezed tight shut, somehow the sounds from outside were louder than before. But you knew your mother must be right, she always was. You were safe inside.
It was around three o’clock in the morning when you awoke to a sound. This time it was different. It wasn’t just the scurrying of an opossum or a racoon, not even a coyote. You found yourself compelled to swing your legs out of bed, bare feet found the cold wooden floor and you walked across the room to look out of the window so you could see the rest of the ranch.
The animals were in the barn so the fields were empty. You could see the fence and the opening of the ranch, you could just make out the trail past that but the looming trees beyond that made it impossible for you to make out anything else. Maybe a flicker between the branches but maybe that was your eyes. You were tired.
You couldn’t hear the noise now, wasn’t even sure what you had thought you might see. Maybe a fox or even a wolf. You remembered there being all sorts of animals when you were younger, you’d even seen a bear running across one of the fields early one morning after daddy forgot to take in some honey mama had ordered from the general store.
Maybe you’d dreamed it. It had been a long few days. You lay back down but didn’t sleep until the sun began to filter its way through the window.
 ****
 Kieran was a great help. You had milked the cows before but even then it was something your daddy and the ranch hands dealt with more than you. You collected the eggs and fed the chickens while Kieran milked the cows and mucked out the barn. You felt bad but he said he didn’t mind, it’s good honest work and the barn wouldn’t muck itself. You supposed he was right.
“Say, Mr Duffy,” you said to him once he was done and the pair of you sat on the porch together drinking lemonade that you had made that morning for lack of being able to sleep, “you said Bran took care of the foxes, right?” “He sure does,” Kieran replied. “Just foxes?” Kieran half shrugged, half nodded, “sometimes coyotes. He had a cougar once but I think that was a fluke… He’s good with pests, too. Rats and the like.” “Ever anything… bigger?” You asked cautiously. Kieran thought for a moment, “I can’t say so.” His large eyes met yours, “you worried about the animals at night?” He asked, “'cause that barn is secure, I swear it. Mr Marston from the stables and his brother came and did a fine job with it. It was half fallen down before then!” You nodded. “Well it's comin’ into winter soon,” Kieran said thoughtfully, “so yer won’t have to worry so much ‘bout the likes of bears - not that you see ‘em that often no more down this way. All these new ranches and houses goin’ up... The bears have gone further into the mountains. They’s more scared of us than we is o’ them.”
You nodded. You supposed that much was probably true. You also supposed that you had just been tired the night before.
Even so, it didn’t stop you from taking daddy’s old rifle down from above the fireplace. It was rusted and looked a little worse for wear. You’d never shot a gun before, never really had to but maybe it would give you peace of mind to have a gun ready. Just in case.
The next day, you rode Cash into Strawberry, your daddy’s rifle stowed on the side of Cash’s saddle. You'd forgotten how pretty of a town Strawberry was, like something drawn on a postcard. You hitched Cash outside the general store, you remembered coming here with your mama when you were younger and buying the groceries. The store had been run by an old man named Mr Watson and sure enough when you entered the store he was standing behind the counter, like he had never left. To say you were surprised to see him was an understatement; he had seemed impossibly old when you still lived in Strawberry and now he seemed even older.
He was speaking to another man who stood at the counter, “here’s everythin’ you ordered Mr Morgan. It’s good to see you out and about again, you feelin’ better now?” My Morgan, who still had his back to you, shifted awkwardly; he was a tall man, his back and shoulders broad, you could see that he wore his sandy coloured hair long. “Yeah,” he replied gruffly. “And how’s the rest of the family? Mr and Mrs Marston? And little Jack?” Mr Watson asked, smiling kindly at Mr Morgan. “Fine.” Mr Morgan replied rather bluntly. “Well you take care now,” Mr Watson said as he handed Mr Morgan his items, “come back soon, I do enjoy our chats.”
Mr Morgan permitted himself a laugh at this, short and more of a bark. The effort made him cough, though. He turned from Mr Watson, covering his mouth as he coughed. It sounded bad and you found yourself wincing as a visceral reaction. His eyes met yours, brightest blue, like the skies of your childhood summers. He was handsome enough, his features angular yet not unapproachable.
“‘Scuse me,” he apologised to you, not making eye contact and moved away from the counter. Mr Watson greeted you then his eyes widened, “my my! Is that who I think it is? Last time I saw you… Well it’s been years!” He beamed at you, “you back to take over the ranch?” He asked and you nodded. “I am so sorry ‘bout your daddy. Fine man, he was. He’ll be sorely missed.” “Thank you, Mr Watson.” “What can I do for you?” “I was hoping you could help me with this…” You put the rifle on the counter. “It belonged to daddy, I think it’s pretty old but I just need it to shoot.” Mr Watson’s white eyebrows shot up to his hairline, “my word,” he chuckled, “I don’t think I’ve seen one of these since the war. Sure don’t make ‘em like they used to! You’re right, it certainly is an old rifle indeed… I don’t think I stock the cartridges for this particular model any more, I’m afraid.” You sighed. “You could always try the gunsmith over in Valentine,” Mr Watson suggested. Valentine was at least the best part of a day’s ride away. It seemed like an awfully long way to go in the hope that the gunsmith there might have the right cartridges for daddy’s old rifle…
“Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearin’...” It was Mr Morgan, he had been checking through the parcel Mr Watson had handed him. You turned to look at him, able to search his face now. His complexion was ashen and while his eyes were certainly striking, they were also bleary. He looked exhausted. “Can I see the rifle? I might have what you need. You passed the rifle to Mr Morgan who inspected it. “Could do with some cleanin’,” he muttered to himself, “but it ain’t in too bad condition…” His voice was low and rough but has a strange kind of softness to it.
He looked up at you, eyes an arresting contrast to his pallid skin. “I reckon I might have some cartridges lyin’ ‘round if you want ‘em?” “Really? That’d be mighty helpful of you.” “I’d be glad to help you out. Your daddy was a good man. I’m Arthur Morgan by the way.” He extended his hand and you shook it, introducing yourself. “I got a few errands to run but I could always stop by the ranch this afternoon if that’s ok with you?” Arthur suggested. “I’d really appreciate that, thank you Mr Morgan.” He smiled at you now and his face changed, he looked lighter, younger, eyes crinkled at the corners. You smiled back. “Then I’ll see you this afternoon.”
You picked up a few things from the store before leaving. Once outside you packed Cash’s saddle bags and fed him a carrot in preparation for the ride back to the ranch.
“Didn't I see you in the hotel the other night?” The voice made you start and you couldn’t help but gasp and recoil away at the man who stood behind you; he had blood slicked all over his hands, down his jacket and even some flecks on his face. You recognised the face, the ice blue eyes and the straw-like blond hair.
“Didn’t mean t’ startle ya. The name’s Micah Bell, I was in the hotel the other night and remember seein’ ya. You takin’ over the White Bison ranch?” You nodded hesitantly. “I’m sorry.” Micah Bell said though he didn’t sound the least bit apologetic, “I’ve been out huntin’ y’see," gesturing to the blood all over him. “That’s the game, huntin’. You saw the bear in the hotel foyer? I killed that one. Supply almost all the meat here in Strawberry, too.” You nodded again, not sure what to say to him. You unhitched Cash and began to walk him away from the store, towards the north exit of Strawberry. Micah followed.
“So you’re up at White Bison Ranch, huh?” He asked you, speeding up to match your pace. You nodded a third time. “How you findin’ it out there on your own?” Your brows knitted together slightly into a frown, “just fine.” You replied a little bluntly. “I’m only askin’ because there’s been a few people round these parts sayin’ that there’s something livin’ in the woods. Something that ain’t no animal.” Your frown grew deeper. “Not an animal..?” You repeated almost to yourself rather than Micah. “O’ course, I don’t believe that,” Micah chuckled, “you gotta be insane if you think there’s some beast runnin’ around in these woods. Probably a grizzly or a big cat and I’m gonna be there to get it.”
You stopped a little past the sheriff’s office and looked back at Micah. His eyes were piercing and you couldn’t maintain eye contact with him, feeling like he was looking right through you.
“So what’s the fuss about a bear or a big cat?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at Micah. “There’s been predators out in the woods ever since I was a kid and even since before then… What’s so different now?”
Micah’s lips twisted into a smirk, as if he had been waiting for you to ask that. “Real weird things been happenin’.” He said, a tinge of excitement to his tone now, “first it was animals that started goin’ missin’ a few years back - a chicken here and there or maybe a family dog and everyone just assumed it was coyotes. Then some little housewife over past Diablo Ridge said she saw something a-sneakin’ into the barn one night, took her husband’s shotgun and went to see what it was… She swore it was a monster, at least eight feet tall and covered in thick black hair with glowing red eyes.” Micah laughed at the expression on your face. “Horse shit, of course! But since then, everyone wants to see this creature. Plenty of people claimin’ they have but I’ll believe it when I see it stuffed and mounted on my wall.”
“Well it’s been nice talking to you, Mr Bell.” You lied as you pulled yourself up into Cash’s saddle. “I have to be heading back now.” Micah’s smirk hadn’t faltered throughout your entire conversation. “If you ever get lonely up there, you can always come and find me.” He said, “or if you just want someone who knows how to handle a gun.” You hesitated before answering. “I’ll bear that in mind, Mr Bell.”
You rode Cash at a leisurely pace, not wanting to rush back because you wanted to think about what Micah Bell had said to you. You were familiar with people in town gossiping, wild stories spinning out of control like Chinese whispers, usually cautionary tales to stop children wandering too far from their mothers or going into the woods alone. You felt better knowing that Mr Morgan would be coming along later with the rifle cartridges.
Kieran was taking a break when you got back. He stood up when he saw you coming up to the house where he was sitting on the steps eating a sandwich Mary-Beth had no doubt made for him. He waved enthusiastically at you. “How was town?” He asked you, helping you unload Cash. “It was… Interesting.” Kieran laughed, “Strawberry? Interestin’?” You laughed too and carried the groceries into the house with Kieran behind you. He helped you put things away. “Oh!” You started as you remembered, “Mr Morgan will be coming later on today.” “Arthur Morgan?” “Yeah.” “Kinda… Surly lookin’ feller?” “Yeah.” “Hmm.”
You turned to look at Kieran who was looking thoughtfully at the can of beans in his hand. “Is… Is Mr Morgan… Bad?” You asked, feeling a bit silly to ask such a childish question but you didn’t know how else to ask it. Kieran chuckled. “No. I don’t think so. He’s just… Not a sociable person, is all.”
You were certain that this was true but it wasn’t always fair to judge a book by it’s cover.
Kieran was busying himself with the horses in the stables while you were going through some of daddy’s things in the house. You had asked Kieran if there was anything you could do to help him but he seemed capable enough of doing it all on his own and if anything, you were more of a hindrance.
It was around three o’clock when a silver dapple pinto Missouri foxtrotter made its way up the trail towards the house with Arthur Morgan astride it. You hadn’t forgotten about the handsome stranger who was coming to visit you and went out onto the porch to greet him.
The afternoon had turned colder than the morning despite the sun being high in the sky and Arthur was now wearing a longline olive coloured woollen coat and around his neck, he wore a black neckerchief. As he greeted you, you could see his breath in front of him. “Mr Morgan, thank you for coming!” “Of course,” he said to you, he looked a little better than earlier. “Why don’t you show me that rifle again?” You guided Arthur back into the house, the rifle was lying on the kitchen table. Arthur set a heavy leather satchel down on the table with a clunk and took out a few things - some boxes of cartridges and gun oil.
“It needs a decent clean before you load it up and go shootin’ at muskrats,” Arthur joked and you smiled. He showed you how to take the gun apart and how to clean it. “It needs regular care, think of it like brushin’ your horse.” Arthur pushed the rifle towards you. “Why don’t you try.” You cleaned the gun carefully and Arthur watched you. “Heard you met my brother John the other day,” Arthur said. You hadn’t been sure from the conversation you overheard in the general store whether John was Arthur’s brother or not but this confirmed it. They didn’t look alike at all, John was much leaner compared to Arthur, even their faces were completely different - John had sharp features and suspicious eyes. Arthur, while not the conversationalist had a certain warmth about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
“He really helped me out when I got here,” you replied, “took me to the hotel in Strawberry, otherwise I’d have been stuck at the station all night.” A smirk tugged at Arthur’s lips, “that sounds like John.”
Once the gun was cleaned, Arthur showed you how to put it back together. “You know how to shoot this thing?” You felt a faint blush play across your face and you shook your head in response. Arthur laughed softly, “I got some time before I gotta get back… I could show you, if you wanted?” “Only if you’re sure.” There was that smile again. “I’m sure.”
The pair of you walked out to the fields in front of the house.
“You gotta stand straight and hold steady.” Arthur told you, “you gotta focus, breath slow and always pull the trigger on empty lungs.” “You sound like a seasoned gunman, Mr Morgan.” You said, you felt your heart flutter a little. Were you flirting with him? “Somethin’ like that,” Arthur murmured. “Here, let me show you how to hold it properly.”
 You spent the next hour or so shooting at a few empty bottles that you had found lying around as target practice. You took it in turns, Arthur demonstrating then your turn. By the end of it, you had hit maybe two bottles celebrating each time by hopping around with joy while Arthur chuckled.
The sky had turned a pumpkin orange and the sun had started to dip below the treeline, casting large ominous shadows across the field. Kieran had rounded up the remaining animals into the barn.
Arthur turned to you, blond hair looking golden now in the dwindling sunlight, “I really must be going now.” “Why- why don’t you stay for dinner?” You found yourself asking and you had no idea why. You had no plans for dinner but you were sure you could rustle something up. “That’s mighty kind of you but I don’t wanna intrude on your hospitality any longer.” “You wouldn’t be intruding at all, Mr Morgan. I insist.” “My brother will be expectin’ me back. I should go but thank you all the same.” Arthur said, his voice soft but also firm.
You suddenly felt very silly very quickly, a hot wave of embarrassment washed over you and you wished you could evaporate. “Well... Thank you for today. You’ve been very kind and I appreciate it.”
He tipped his hat to you and went to his horse. You watched him mount it, swiftly kick his heels into its side and trot away towards the trail.
You didn’t know how long Kieran had been watching but he smiled weakly at you as you walked dejectedly back towards the house with the gun slung under your arm. “He ain’t the most sociable,” Kieran said with a hint of ’I told you so’, “but he ain’t a bad man. You sighed. “Yeah, I guess.” Soon enough Kieran was telling you that it was time for him to get home, too and you were left to spend another sleepless night in the ranch house. Completed fic on AO3
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