#that man breaks more bones than anyone I’ve seen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reds-skull · 1 month

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BLOOD||HUNGER

[PREV PART] [AO3]

OOO I'm very excited to share this chapter! We're getting close to the finish line!

Its name is "The Song of Us"

Page 54 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 15:

The Blind man asks his companion, before dawn break, What do you believe, is a beast’s fate, Once death seizes its life, in his inevitable grasp? The beast, his heart knowing of the fallen knight’s pleas, Of men they lost, who were left to be but a worm’s dark feast, Answers, death reaches for monsters all the same as men, For the unjust, for the cruel, For the kind, for the forgiving, All bones become one, until they become none, As death is the only being, to see all as one and the same.

This city is quiet, in the way a drowning is. Something wicked is happening under the surface, hidden from plain sight. If only its victim had air to scream.

The Hunter has intel beyond the SAS’s scope, beyond Laswell’s. Informants, comms. A man pronounced to all as dead. How is it possible, they were written off as a non-threat before?

Soap grits his teeth, tapping the lit end of his cigarette on a wall. Simon started moving a few minutes ago, the poison once again retreating. By the haunted look in his brown eyes, John could tell they both know he’s running out of time.

Price has been arguing with Laswell while helping Simon. Something about the fact the Hunter seemingly didn’t exist a year prior, on paper. Appeared out of nowhere one day with an army behind them, ready to burrow into intelligence networks in a way even Makarov couldn’t.

Makarov’s name came up a lot in that conversation. Enough that Soap had to take a smoke.

Anger thrums through his veins. Begging for blood. The same incessant screaming that drove him to choke the life out of Makarov, the same fire that kept him going through this personal slice of hell.

Maybe he’s an idiot, for wanting to kill the Hunter, for believing it will change anything.

The cigarette’s flame licks his fingers.

Soap crushes it against the wall. He turns around, watching Simon and the Captain. Far enough to not hear them, but they seem to need a bit of privacy anyway. Soap can’t say he’s ever seen Price that emotional, in their short meetings.

He asks himself where Gaz is when the Lieutenant approaches him.

“Price is bloody livid, isn’t he?” Gaz huffs.

Soap hums. His eyes move from the Captain to Simon, his mask still on the ground besides him.

Kyle follows his stare, “did you know Ghost’s identity, when I found you two?”

“No”, the white skull almost glows in the moonlight, “I only found out when… the communicator tried to use it against him.”

He can feel Gaz scan his features, “and you still decided to work with him.”

Soap doesn’t answer. Simon and Price are hugging now, the movement uncoordinated to Ghost. He doesn’t know how he can tell.

He turns to face Gaz, “I swore we will finish this together. I don’t go back on my word.”

“We both know this goes beyond that, Soap.” Gaz gives him a half smile, “the way you look at him… Haven’t seen you like that with anyone else.”

Soap frowns, scoffing, “don’t know what yer-”

“You have feelings for him, don’t you?” Gaz asks, almost gently.

…Feelings?

…..Could he?

“I…”

“Don’t lie to yourself.” Gaz murmurs, “in all the years I’ve known you, you didn’t act like this. Going against everyone you know, jumping in front of him when Price starts threatening him, letting him rest his bloody head on your legs- c’mon Soap, you’re fucking smitten with the man-”

“Kyle.” Soap stops him, head hanging down to hide the embarrassment painting his cheeks red. He scrubs a weary hand over his features, looking up at his friend between his fingers.

Gaz’s eyes soften. Soap sighs, “I- this is not the time for that kind of shite. We need to fuckin’ dust the Hunter, and then-”

And then what?

Soap lowers his hand, stare unconsciously drifting towards Simon. Since when have his eyes started doing that?

It hasn’t been more than a month since he arrived to this godforsaken city. How is it that John can’t imagine being alone again?

Or… how can’t he imagine an ‘after’ without Simon?

“I won’t lie to you.” Kyle starts, his tone gentler, “I still don’t fully trust Ghost. Even if he is… Simon Riley.” the Lieutenant places a hand on his shoulder, “but I can tell what you truly want, even if you think it’s not feasible.”

“That’s because it isn’t-”

“Bullshit.” Gaz turns John around to face him, “look, we are not good men. We’ve been operating outside the law for… for as long as I can remember. What we do, the way we dirty our hands...”

Kyle lets out a shaky exhale, squeezing his shoulder, “what I’m saying is, we can make people disappear. And if you… if you want that, I can help. I’m sure Price will too-”

“Yer out of yer mind-”

“Are you going to go back to Scotland, mate?” Gaz’s voice sharpens on desperation, “are you gonna go back to feeling like you have nothing to live for? Can you really leave this life, leave Ghost, behind?” He almost whispers the end, “be honest.”

How could he go back? No apartment, endless job search, a buzz under his skin that cannot be scrubbed off, disappointment to his family, emptiness, emptiness, emptiness-

“What else can Ah do?!” Soap tenses under Gaz’s hand.

That hand keeps him steady all the same, “whatever you want, John.” Kyle smiles sadly, “me and Price don’t have that freedom, but you two? You don’t have stuffy generals breathing down your neck.”

“I don’t-” Soap cuts himself off, thoughts whirling faster in his mind. He gets reminded of what his therapist used to say about him, back when he was just discharged.

“You fixate on danger, John. To the point of obsession. You don’t know when to let go, if you believe you can make things right.”

“Even if the cost is more than you should be willing to pay.”

“Just… think about it. Besides…” Gaz looks away, expression darkening, “I have a feeling the 141 might need people like you in the future.”

Soap brows furrow, “dishonorably discharged adrenaline addicts?”

Kyle chuckles, “no”, his hands tighten on Soap’s shirt, “people we can trust. People who are willing to do what’s right, even if they know they shouldn’t. Even if they don’t act the way the higher ups would want them.”

His brown eyes turn to look at John, determination he first saw on bootcamp only growing stronger, “people like you.”

Soap goes through another cigarette with Gaz by the time Price and Simon return to them. Both of their eyes shine with tears.

“Laswell did some digging.” Price grunts, “wasn’t easy, finding intel on the Hunter. They know their way around our networks, clearly.” his stare flickers towards Simon, “this operation-”

“Mass murder” Soap corrects. Calling this an operation would spit on the dozens of innocent people left to rot here.

“Mass murder”, the Captain continues, “is very unusual for the Hunter’s soldiers. Almost… flashy.”

“The communicator admitted it was an attempt to frame me.” Simon rolls up the mask in his hands, slipping it on, “they needed to show the British Army I’m too dangerous to keep.”

“And they knew the SAS would send the 141 because of the informant.” Gaz huffs.

Price nods, “which they did succeed in, but it also exposed them to us.”

“The SAS wouldn’t have investigated it further if ye actually killed Ghost the first time around.” Soap grumbles, wincing a moment later when he remembered who he’s talking to.

The Captain takes it surprisingly seriously. “Correct. This is not the first time they hide behind a smaller, supposedly unconnected criminal.” he hangs his arms on his tacvest, commending voice booming in the empty streets, “the Hunter is now top priority for the 141, our orders are to eliminate them, along with any high ranking officers remaining within their army. This mission is classified to all but us and Laswell - anyone else will be treated as a potential collaborator of the Hunter.”

“What about Soap and Ghost, Captain?” Gaz asks.

Price sighs, “Ghost has escaped after releasing the civilian he captured as leverage. And John MacTavish?” a sly smile pushes his mustache up, ”he has never set foot in this city.”

Kate Laswell isn’t someone Soap knew well, back in his service. Has heard her name being dropped in a couple of debriefs, a few calls here and there regarding missions.

He becomes increasingly grateful she’s on their side, as she brings up more and more intel on the Hunter. Their main source of information is the informant Ghost killed - the man recognized several undercover soldiers moving supplies in and out of the city in the past few weeks. He knew something big was going to happen, but the SAS waved it off as a local gang.

On the day of his death, he managed to send in one last report. The informant knew his time was limited, that his cover was blown, so the message was painfully short.

‘Skull in warehouse, Konservy, game over’

It was not clear if who he referred to when he transmitted the name “Skull”, and at the time the comms officer asked the informant to repeat, thinking it was a mistyped “Ghost”. With what they know now, it’s highly likely he was actually talking about the Hunter, and their red skull insignia. Konservy is a name of a warehouse, two clicks out of the city, as Laswell quickly found out.

‘Game over’ is the agreed upon sign for caught spies.

Price and Gaz have brought out their maps, attempting to lock down the warehouse’s location. Soap and Ghost were gently shooed away after it became obvious they don’t have any more useful intel to provide.

“How’s your neck?” Ghost asks him, the two of them leaning against a crumbling wall.

Soap opens his mouth to answer, when gloved fingers brush over the bruised skin on his throat. “I uh…” he swallows, the hand following the movement, “I feel fine.”

Ghost hums, caressing the wound for a moment longer before pulling away. Soap wants to chase the touch.

He really is in over his head, isn’t he?

“Simon.” Soap looks up at the bright skull mask, “have you thought about… what are ye gonna do after?”

“...no.”

“...Would ye go back? To what you did before?”

Simon stares at him deeply, eyes closing, “I don’t think I can.” he looks back at Soap, “you? What did you do before?”

Soap chuckles bitterly, “ah, I was spendin’ my newly civvi life indulging in only the greatest of pleasures. Like sittin’ in an office for nine hours a day, or knittin’ a scarf on my therapist’s orders.”

Simon’s shoulders shake with a badly hidden laugh, “I’d like to see you knit.”

Soap grins, “oh I was a natural. It definitely didn’t have several holes by the time I was done.”

“How did you get here, then?” Simon asks, mirth still creasing his eyes.

His smile drops, words dying on his tongue, “I uh…” that weeks-old shame starts creeping back in, “was about to be evicted. Got fired, bastards never liked me anyway. I jus’ took all of my money and… ran as far as I could.”

Simon hums, shoulder leaning in to nudge his. Soap thinks the conversation is over after a few moments of silence, the both of them mauling over the words, when Simon surprises him.

“Think I’d like that… running away.” he murmurs.

“Aye? Where would ye go?”

“Don’t know. Don’t think it matters.” Simon leans in closer, their foreheads almost touching, “as long as the company is good.”

Soap feels a shiver go down his spine, eyes wide as he tries to find the joke that must be in Simon’s.

But he looks so painfully sincere, even when he finally leans away, “too bad there’s none ‘ere. Might ask Laswell if she got any tips on finding partners in crime.”

Soap lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “think they make dating apps for fuckers like ye?”

“Doubt I’ll find anyone as mental as you on Tinder, Johnny.” Simon deadpans.

“That’s because yer looking in the wrong place - Christian Mingle is where the real crazy bastards are.”

Simon can’t hold in his laugh this time, and for the first time Soap hears the way he snorts a little when his giggles become uncontrollable. It’s a horribly endearing sound, one that he wants to hear for every day for the rest of his life.

It makes his heart hurt, heavy, sinking in his chest like a death sentence.

Gaz was right.

He’s in love with Simon Riley.

Gaz went back to get the vehicle he and Price infiled with. It had a laptop, a few maps, and the most wonderful MREs Soap ever had. He never thought he’d miss that shite, but after running on a handful of oranges and a possibly moldy sandwich, they tasted like heaven on earth.

As he and Ghost had their meal (Simon’s eyes sparkled in a way that told Soap he was clearly as delighted with the food as he was), the 141 finalized their plan with Laswell. Soap could see them arguing about something, but he was far too preoccupied with eating to care at the moment.

Ghost, however, did care, “need anything, Price?”

The Captain snaps his head up, taking off his hat and scratching at his hair, “we have an angle to breach, but…”

Gaz joins in, “We don’t have intel on how many guards are posted, their location… mission will be doomed from the start if we just go in guns blazing.”

“Why not do some recon, then?” Soap wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “we’re all trained for that.”

“Too risky, the warehouse is exposed, and the Hunter won’t leave any obvious gaps in security if they’re worth their salt.” Price grunts.

Ghost gets up, walking over to the maps spread on the truck’s hood, “then we break in.”

Soap smirks at the assurance in his voice, “and that’s why I love the Ghost.”

He instantly catches the knowing expression on Gaz’s face, as well as Simon stiffening beside him. Soap curses himself mentally, feeling his face heat up in shame. He prays for any god that might listen, that Ghost didn’t take it as seriously as the truth is.

Thankfully, Price saves him from blurting out some more recently-discovered-emotions, “no other way but through, eh Simon? What do you have in mind?”

Ghost scans the maps of the warehouse Laswell has sent over, “The Hunter doesn’t know we’re working together, if they’re expecting an attack they would only expect two people - me and Johnny.” his eyes flicker to Soap’s for a brief moment, “if we split up, the 141 could take them by surprise.”

“You said they’re after you and John, Simon. If they catch you, we might not be able to help.” Price says grimly.

Ghost sighs, looking away frustrated. His head turns to face Soap, eyes calculating, “...what if they don’t know it’s us?”

“What?” Price asks.

Ghost continues, eyes still staring deeply into his, “Johnny can easily disguise himself, he’s done so before. All he needs is to cover up his face and hair.”

The Captain nods to Ghost, “and what about you, son? Everyone knows your mask.”

“But no one knows his face.” Soap answers, understanding washing over him, “but Simon-”

“I can’t be Ghost if we want to finish this.” Simon brushes fingers over the bone-white teeth of the skull mask, hand tightening into a fist.

Gaz nods slowly, “and we can’t be the 141.” he sends a meaningful look to the Captain, “this operation has to be kept secret. If the SAS learns we collaborated with the Ghost…”

“Then we won’t be.” Price walks to the back of the truck, pulling out 3 black balaclavas and throwing them to Soap and Gaz.

Price begins explaining their plan, “Laswell has gathered up a few blueprints of the Konservy warehouse. There are several key points that appear to be far too open for us to breach, all except one - the offloading garage. We’ll split into two teams, me and Gaz will take the offices and CCTV rooms, clearing the way for Soap and Ghost to infiltrate the main machinery room.”

“Our plan depends on each team watching the other’s six, we’ll have to keep comms up.” Gaz adds.

“Once the first team takes over the CCTV room, we will be able to locate the Hunter. The faster we do this, the less likely reinforcements will arrive.” Price hands Soap and Ghost a radio.

“Do we know where they keep their vehicles?” Soap asks while fitting the comms over his clothes.

“Yeah, should be around where we first enter. Why?” Gaz raises a brow towards him.

A wicked smile spreads on Soap’s lips, “might be able to set up a little surprise for any newcomers.”

Ghost chuckles darkly, “always ready to craft a trap, aren’t you, Johnny?”

“Never failed me before, Simon.”

“You can take a look at our supplies, take whatever you need.” Price looks over each of them, “any questions?”

Soap flexes his hands, adrenaline thrumming a familiar song through his veins, anger painting his vision red, “what are we waiting for?”

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ohforficsakelibrary · 7 months

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The Margay: Chapter 4

His Other Nickname

prev / series masterlist / main masterlist

Summary: Santiago recruits Frankie to contract for a covert agency that pairs them with danger in more ways than one. A series of one-shot snippets taking place during and around missions.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC

Word Count: 3.1K

Rating: Explicit 18+ /oral (f receiving because Frankie), unprotected piv, these two both have a bit of a come fetish / Minors DNI

A/N: Finally made some progress on this! My take on callsigns and nicknames and new lovers before they part.

“Okay, okay, where does “Catfish” come from? Is that a ‘slippery when wet’ situation?” Audrey smiles.

They’re each three rounds deep, Santiago having made the call three hours before the 24-hour clock ran on Davis’ offer.

They're in this. The three of them. Together.

Whatever this is.

But that’s tomorrow’s problem while mirth flows as freely as the drinks do tonight.

“Ah,” Santi takes a sip from his beer, “his patchy-ass beard.”

Audrey leans back and considers Frankie for a moment before her face breaks.

“I see it.”

“Right?! Great ‘stache. Shit beard,” Santi reaches across the table to scratch at Frankie’s face “you got like three whiskers hangin’ on there, man.”

“Yeah alright alright,” Fish bats him away, “yours is worse.” Frankie leans in to Audrey, wrapping an arm around the back of her chair. “This guy used to go on these long fucking lectures when we first joined up about how ‘the sins of the flesh cloud the mind’ and ‘I’d never sleep with anyone on a mission, have to stay focused on the task at hand.’”

Audrey angles her eyes over to Santi, who has his hand over the bottom half of his face in an attempt to cover up the neat shade of red staining his cheeks.

“Turns out he was a virgin until like 27.”

“Hey, it was 26, man. I was just really focused…”

“On your career?” Audrey and Frankie both quip before erupting in laughter.

Frankie wipes the back of his hand over his eyes, scrubbing away tears of mirth, “the Pope doesn’t fuck, so. That’s where ‘Pope’ came from.”

“Fuuuuck you, Fish. Alright little lady, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s your callsign?”

“Is the cat thing not good enough?”

“Yeahhh we can’t exactly call you that. But come on, we’re in this shit together, what is it?”

“I don’t have one, Santi.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m really not.”

“What do you mean you don’t have one. You didn’t have callsigns at that fancy fuckin’ school of yours?”

“Nope.”

“Well, we’ll have to figure one out for you.”

“Feels like it should be more organic than that, no?”

“I thought it was this guy,” Frankie’s fingers leave the back of her chair to brush her left shoulder blade over her t-shirt.

Pope is once again irritated that there are parts of her he hasn’t seen. Because of his own idiocy.

“No, they’re just my favorite animal.”

“What is?”

“I think we should still use it,” Frankie continues, purposely leaving Pope in the dark.

Audrey catches on quick. “Just because I have a tattoo of one? Not really a great story. It’s not like you have a tattoo of a catfish.”

“A tattoo of what,” Santi is relentless.

“Actually,” Frankie ignores him and leans back hiking down the waistband of his jeans.

Sure enough, the green-tinged blur of a stick-and-poke catfish sits on his left hip bone. It’s faded and it’s terrible. But it is a catfish nonetheless.

“What, you didn’t notice that when you two were fucking?” There’s salt in Santiago’s tone.

The truth, quite frankly, is that she didn’t. You don’t, in the dark, when you’re that turned on and a man’s that well hung.

She has an eye for details, but she’s only human.

Frankie smirks and decides to twist the knife.

“Think about how I would have seen the back of her shoulder, but she wouldn’t have seen my hip, Pope. Just think for a second.”

They can see the exact moment the image hits him.

“You know what, fuck you both.”

“It’s a moose, Santi. I have a tattoo of a moose.”

“I’ve never seen a moose.”

“You never will,” Fish quips and Pope lands a kick to his shin.

“Fuck you,” Pope spits, quickly adding, “did he tell you about his other nickname?”

“NO,” Frankie points a finger at Pope.

“Oh well now I have to know,” she straightens in her chair.

“You better fuckin’ not, Pope.”

“One of you needs to tell me right now.”

“You wanna tell her, Big Dick Morales, or should I?”

Santi expects Audrey’s eyes to fly wide, mouth to drop open.

Instead, she smirks into her glass.

“I did notice that when we were fucking.”

Frankie flushes red now.

“But how, pray tell, did that start?” She rests an elbow on the table and props her head in her hand, angled in towards Frankie.

“Oh please don’t,” Fish pleads.

“Well, first it started as a joke, because dude can’t put on a pair of pants without making the rest of us look bad.”

Frankie catches how her eyes flit down to his lap and back up to hold his stare.

The look on his face is – apologetic.

“But back in the day, girls used to fall all over Frankie. He’s got those sad fuckin’ doe eyes, you know?” Pope gestures loosely at his own face. “Women just have to fix him.”

Audrey holds Fish’s gaze and brushes her fingers over her lips in an attempt to clear away a smile blooming there because she fell for them too.

“But like fifteen years ago he ran through this string of girls who just wouldn’t do it.”

She raises one brow.

“Like seven of them. In a row. Over the span of like a year and a half. They all balked. Never got more than a blowjob. All of them said he was too big.”

“Oh you poor thing…” Audrey teases, running a hand over Frankie’s thigh.

“I hate you both.”

“You don’t hate her, she’s your glass fuckin’ slipper,” Pope leans over the table and nods at Audrey, “you take the whole thing?”

“POPE, shut the fu…”

“I never leave a job unfinished, Santiago,” she says with an arched brow.

“Oh my god,” Fish scrubs his face with his hands. “I can’t be here right now.”

Audrey rests her hand on his thigh.

I can take it, Francisco.

“Debatable. You left me unfinished.”

“I never even started with you.”

“That’s fair,” Santi drains the last of his beer, “You’re off on a technicality. Why’s ‘Bogotá’ your safe word?” He launches right into the thing that's been tugging at the back of his brain since she said it.

“Pope, you can’t just ask…”

“I nearly died in Bogotá. Six years ago. Why are you so interested in Bogotá?”

“Don’t…”

It leaves Frankie’s mouth in a way that draws Santi’s stare.

A challenge passing unspoken between them.

Fish loses. Spectacularly.

"Well—" Santiago pauses, “Frankie got his dick sucked in Bogotá,” eyes still locked on Catfish with the memory playing out behind his retinas. “While I fucked her from behind.”

It’s not bragging. It’s what happened.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

But suddenly it’s tense here, crackling through the humidity.

Because they’re desperate for her not to think less of them.

This isn’t what they do.

She was never supposed to know.

They were never supposed to see her again.

“Well. I guess,” Audrey starts and they both look to her, hanging off of whatever is about to fall from her lips.

They forget that she was party to this too.

“She just couldn’t handle Big Dick Morales.”

It starts slowly.

Small huffs behind where the heel of Frankie’s palm covers his mouth.

Mirth creeping into the furrows at the corners of Santiago’s eyes.

Laughter.

Frankie erupts, face all teeth and cheeks and Santiago howls and claps his hands.

“I’m just saying,” she continues deadpan as Frankie smashes his face into her shoulder, “he’s not for everyone.”

“It takes a special kind of woman,” Santiago adds as he wipes tears from his eyes. “Oh man. You’re a lucky fuckin’ bastard, you know that?” He points at Fish, who’s rubbing Audrey’s thigh.

“I’m the lucky one. Doe eyes and a big dick, my god,” she presses an exaggerated hand to her chest.

Oh, Frankie’s fucked.

“Alright, I got the next round,” Pope stands and stretches out the stitch in his stomach knitted from laughter.

Frankie sneaks a kiss to her cheek when he’s gone, and she catches his face before he can pull away, looking up at him through sincere eyes.

“I’m not gonna fix you, Frankie.”

“I know,” he whispers. But he looks at her with starlight in his eyes just the same.

And in the absence of salvation, her tongue will suffice.

Questions up their stakes as the alcohol flows.

“How old’s your kid?”

“She’s four and a half.” And Francisco’s grin of pride very nearly melts her.

“You married?” This from Santiago.

“No," Audrey shakes her head. "Came close once, but no.”

“What happened?” Santi asks and Frankie lands a kick at his shin now.

“It never would have worked," she shoots her gin and fires back “what about you, pretty boy?” Before Santi can follow up.

“I’m too pretty for marriage.” Santiago winks at her and she snorts.

They swap war stories.

They tell her about a mission to take out a dictator.

She tells them she was on standby all night for that operation and is fascinated by their first-hand account.

Audrey tells them about springing a friend from a North Korean prison and leaves out the detail that he was her lover.

Santiago makes Frankie tell her about the time he flew a MedEvac chopper into live fire and out without a scratch on the bird. And the guy lived.

They don’t talk about the bags of money at the bottom of a crevasse in the Andes because she doesn’t know that detail but she knows more than anyone who wasn’t there.

Eventually their confessions close the bar down and they come to the crossroads between their respective hotels.

“So what do we do now?” Pope stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“We wait,” Audrey lights up a cigarette. “I’ve got something lined up in Peru but I don't need extra hands. So, we just wait.”

“For someone in the world to do something bad., Frankie mumbles, gesturing for her cigarette.

“Yeah,” she answers, touch lingering in the exchange.

“Yeah,” Santi echoes, reaching for the cigarette from between Frankie’s fingers as if smoke seals the bond. “So this is ‘bye’ for now?”

“For now,” she takes her cigarette back.

“You should,” Santi catches Frankie’s gaze and nods towards Audrey.

“You cool with that?” Fish asks them both.

“Yeah,” Santi starts backing towards their hotel with a grin before he turns around and throws a wave over his shoulder.

“Are you okay with that?”

And she grabs the nape of Frankie’s neck and pulls his mouth to hers.

_____

She’s not salvation, but it sure feels divine when he has her on his lap in her hotel room twenty minutes later.

“God, Frankie,” she breathes as she rolls her hips against him. Huge palms skate down her ribs to cup her ass and he pulls, rocking his pelvis up to connect with her core.

Her head thumps hard against his.

The heat from his bare chest warms her skin before the overhead fan sends a chill back down her spine.

“Take this off, Frankie,” she paws at the waistband of his jeans, un-notching his belt with a clink.

“Not yet,” he growls and stands unexpectedly, taking her with him. Audrey locks her thighs around his waist and her arms around his neck as strong hands press her close. Frankie deposits her back-first onto the bed and slips her out of her shorts and underwear, losing them again somewhere on the floor.

He slings her thighs over his shoulders and holds her hips with his palms.

“You do this for all the girls, Big Dick Morales?”

“No.”

It’s growled through low registers of his voice as one thumb brushes her clit.

“For me.”

In five minutes Frankie has her gasping and trembling with terrifyingly precise efficiency.

When he’s through he flips her over by the hip, shucking off his pants and kicking them away. He slips two fingers through sensitive flesh, borrowing the slick he pulled from her core to ease the slide as he pumps his length with a fist, running his other hand over her ass.

Frankie stops one second short of lining himself up.

“Ah, fuck.” The condom in his wallet is once again lost in a tangle of denim that’s lost somewhere on the floor.

“It’s fine, Frankie,” she breathes, unconsciously arching with impatience.

Presenting herself to him like a thing in heat.

He folds to press his chest to her back, engulfing her in the span of his broad frame, nose tucking into the space behind her ear.

“You on the pill, baby?”

And Audrey has never heard a man make that sentence sound quite so filthy.

“Took care of it years ago,” she pants, turning her face to breathe in the want that Frankie exhales. “I can’t, don’t worry.”

He sucks on her lips and murmurs, “I’m clean.”

And she already knows because Davis runs blood panels and doesn’t send anyone out if they’re not but she deeply appreciates the thought all the same.

“So am I.”

And Frankie scoops his hips to nudge the head of his cock against her heat, rocking there.

Teasing with just the tip.

Slowly fucking her open.

“Oh Frankie,” she sighs, head falling back against his shoulder, hand cupping his face as he mouths at her throat.

“That feel good?”

“More, baby,” she breathes.

And he chuckles something dark into the curve of her shoulder.

“Frankie,” her face falls into the sheets.

“Say it,” he growls, palms running over her arms before his fingers lace with hers and drag her arms to their full span up across the duvet. “You want more, say it,” he licks at her shoulder before sinking teeth in.

“Give it to me, Frankie.”

“Give you what?” Whispered into her hairline.

Audrey turns her face in to meet his gaze as best she can.

“Your cock, Francisco.”

And she’s deathly serious.

As though if he refuses she’d rip his throat out.

With her teeth.

“Yeah? You gonna take the whole thing, baby?”

She growls. “Francisco Mora-LES.”

Frankie slides home on the last syllable because Audrey is deathly serious and will rip his throat out if he makes her wait any longer.

He’s mercifully sheathed full, buried bare inside of her.

“Francisco,” she breathes.

“Audrey,” he echoes and still-tight muscles flutter and adjust to his girth.

She can’t move with the way he has her pinned and she’s raring with impatience. Audrey claws at the bed with his fingers still between hers before clenching hard around his cock.

It makes him buck against her.

“Oh shit.” Frankie buries his nose between her shoulder blades and she grins.

Teeth sink into the back of her neck before he rights himself, fingers digging into the meat of her hips now. He presses deep and she mewls.

Frankie drags his cock out slowly and snaps his hips back against her, speeding up a little more each time until his pace punches the air from between her ribs.

Pounding against the tender parts of her that have her moaning from deep in her throat.

His thrusts drive her up onto tip toes.

“Frankie, Frankie, Fr– OH.”

He lands the flat of a palm over her ass and before she can moan he has half of her hair in a fist. Frankie pulls and she bends and he meets her mouth, coaxing moans from her with his tongue. One hand leaves her hip to slide under her, rubbing at her clit, tight circles eased by where she’s dripping around him.

He feels her walls tighten and whispers a “go on baby” against her mouth and she does, spine arched and he holds the curve, pumping through where she grips and throbs and suddenly he’s unable to hold himself any longer.

“Where do you want me, baby?” Frankie pants as breath starts to hiss through gritted teeth.

“Inside,” she keens before he lets loose her hair and her face drops, biting at the sheets as the staccato of skin on skin builds.

“You sure?”

“Come inside me, Francisco.”

“Oh fuck, fuck, oh–FUCK,” and he does, pace faltering, growling and biting at whatever skin he can reach as his cock pulses inside her heat, flooding her full as his hips stutter through.

When Frankie’s spent he pulls out from her gripping heat with a cry and collapses on the floor as she shakes wild hair out of her face, ribs heaving.

He can’t stop the primal need that swells in his chest and causes two fingers to reach out, catching the thick slip of him from her core before she sinks to her knees.

Immediately he’s behind her, once again pressing the span of his chest against her sweat-slick skin.

“Baby,” he implores, one broad palm coming around to cradle her jaw and Audrey cranes her neck to slip her tongue into his mouth.

“Baby,” he pants again, tucking his chin into the curve of her shoulder, bringing two cream-tipped fingers to her mouth. He splits them, a lewd string of their combined release tying his index and middle fingers together.

“Taste us.”

And she does, plush lips wrapping around his thick middle finger, tongue laving over his fingerprints before he cleans his own index finger, the scruff of his jaw scraping her cheek as the salt and tang and musk of them coat both of their tongues.

She’s convinced Francisco Morales is the filthiest man alive.

Audrey slants heavy-lidded eyes towards him as best she can before his teeth find her jawbone, her throat, the back of her neck.

“You’re amazing,” he pants against her hairline.

“You’re beautiful.”

And it tumbles from her mouth like confessing sin to a god that can keep him here, crushed against her.

And she supposes maybe it works because he stays.

He stays to suck bruises into the curve of her shoulder.

To dip inside her mouth with his tongue.

Frankie stays to help her onto legs like a newborn deer as she leaves for the bathroom to clean herself of his spend that spreads milk-white at the apex of her thighs.

He stays in the doorway and she catches his eyes in the mirror.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He asks.

And the answer is wrap me in your arms with a leg between my thighs and don’t leave until the sun heats us to where we can’t stand it any longer.

Francisco leaves her in the doorway with the taste of his tongue in her mouth and the fading warmth of a hand on her hip.

He has a flight to catch.

And she has a man in Peru to kill.

Old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted to Ohforficsake - follow me over there for future updates.

Shoot me a message @ohforficsake or comment under this post if you would like to be added to the taglist for updates! Thanks so much for reading.

#frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #ohforficsake #The Margay

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wooobuddyletsgetnasty · 2 years

Text

somebody write me a story about Ser Harwin Strong falling in love with reader but feeling unable to do anything about it out of respect for Princess Rhaenyra and the children he secretly fathered with her. maybe also out of respect for you as well, because some part of him loves her and it just wouldn’t be fair to you.

so you dance around each other— wandering gazes, lingering touches, useless conversation just to hear each others voices, but it won’t ever be enough.

you need a husband to love. one that will stand by you and be loyal and true to you. Ser Strong could never give you that, you aren’t a fool.

Harwin is content most of the time with his bastard kids and secret nights with the Princess but sometimes; sometimes when he catches a glimpse of your hair in the sunlight, when he sees the way your mouth parts into a longing smile, he thinks he wants a wife— he wants children he can claim.

and you, you could give him that, but would he be able to love you the way you deserve? (read: would he be able to stay away from the princess and her (his) children?)

you find yourself fearing that if you wed Ser Strong he would make a mockery of you, of your marriage. you don’t wish to find out if he could remain true to you, so you decide to marry someone else, despite your love of Harwin. if only you’d met sooner, then maybe you could have given him what he wanted.

Ser Strong is respectful of your wishes, even when his chest burns as you speak about your tryst for a lawful man to marry.

it isn’t as easy to watch you go as Harwin thought it would be, and watching you speak vows to a man that isn’t him is the hardest thing he has ever done.

(EDIT: I’m coming back 2 this because I am still stuck on the idea.

leaving King’s Landing with your husband and when you come back it’s been years. you wish you would have been more insistent about staying home, but alas— you’re back and if the nerves fluttering in your chest tell you anything, it’s that you really shouldn’t have come.

it takes days for Harwin to get you alone— you managing to avoid him at every turn, but you can’t now, as he’s blocking the only exit and looking at you like you’re a goddess walking among men.

AND HE JUST, “I’ve dreamed of you, every night.” you’re trying not to crumble under his gaze, and all you can remember is the way he used to steal the breath from your lungs, but looking at him now, now he just makes them ache.

there are years of hidden feelings bubbling in your chest until you’re sure you’ll throw them up all over the pretty dress that shows the colors of your husband’s house.

he moves in closer and a part of you wishes to jump in his arms, wishes to tell him there’s been a mistake and you never should have wed anyone but him— but you don’t. that would be dishonorable to your husband who has been nothing but kind to you.

with a gentleness a man nicknamed ‘break bones’ should not have, he cradles you at the nape of your neck, gaze matching yours with an intensity you haven’t seen in years.

he cradles you, pressing his forehead to yours, all soft hands and shuddering breaths, until his mouth is parting in a soft sigh of your name, “you’re just as beautiful as you were on the day i lost you.” god graces you the strength to turn your head, “unhand me, Ser Strong.”

you’re a married woman. he has no right to you, no right to touch you this way, and he retracts instantly, an apology falling from his lips. when your eyes meet again, you can see the hurt— but this is his making.

he will never have you, and now, here— as he is looking at you, you’re different than you once were. you quiver, but you don’t bend to him, to the desire for him to tell you he loves you.

And later, when Harwin asks you if you love your husband— you smile, and then you lie through your teeth. of course you love him— he is your husband and he is good to you, but Harwin knows— he can see it in your eyes, in the way they’ve lost their light from the years away from each other— you’ll never love a man that isn’t him.)

I want to cry. I want to fall in love. I want to be sad for DAYSSSS.

someone pls write this for me before I do it myself smh. I hate it here.

#send me asks #yes yes yes #shut up rissa #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong #ser harwin strong #house of the dragon

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starlitangels · 1 year

Conversation

Good Boy Audios Incorrect Quotes (Part 1)

Faithful, to Albus: Are you done pretending I'm not the love of your life?

•••

Makkaro: I think the words you're looking for are "I surrender"

Guardian: The words I'm looking for I can't say because Zed is present

•••

Albus: Now, remember what I told you, Faithful. The quickest way to a man's heart is...?

Faithful: Through his third and fourth rib!

Albus: That's my girl!

(Devlin: You're horrible)

•••

Ulysses: How did none of you hear what I just said?

Pandora: I’ve been zoned out for the last two and a half hours

Fenrir: I got distracted about halfway through

Odin: Ignoring you was a conscious decision

•••

*Thud!*

Faithful: What was that?

Albus: My shirt fell!

Faithful: It sounded louder than that

Albus: I was still in it

•••

Pandora: Fight me!

Odin: What are you gonna do shortstop, kick me in the shin?

*one minute later*

Tyr, entering the room: Why is Odin on the ground holding his leg?

Ulysses, laughing: Pandora kicked him really hard in the shin

•••

Faithful "Resting B!+ch Face" Koria: Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone

•••

Ulysses: *screaming* You IDIOT!

Odin: *also screaming* I'm sure you're right but why?!

(also Devlin and Albus in that order, or Paradise and Yargwynn)

•••

Devlin: Did you just refer to a knife as a people-opener?

Albus: Should I not have?

•••

Paradise: WHAT DID YOU DO!?

Yargwynn: Shockingly, none of this.

•••

Odin: Do you think I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

Ulysses: You’re a hazard to society

Pandora: And a coward. Do 20

•••

Albus: I'm not lying on the floor physically, but I am lying on the floor spiritually

•••

Darling: Is there a word that's a mix between sad and angry?

Makkaro: Disgruntled, malcontented, miserable, desolated

Frank: Smad *insert Frank laugh here*

•••

Pandora: Why did the chicken cross the road?

Odin: IDK, why?

Pandora: To get to the idiot's house. Knock knock

Odin: Who's there?

Pandora: The chicken

Odin: ... I won't punch you on one condition

Pandora: Okay

Odin: Go tell that joke to Ulysses

•••

Faithful: Devlin, have you seen Albus?

Albus, lying facedown on the floor: Present

•••

Zed: Never break someone's heart. They only have one.

Makkaro: Yeah! Break their bones! They have 206!

•••

Okami: I've brought you here because I crave the deadliest game

Odin, nodding sagely: Knife Monopoly

Okami: ... Okay I was gonna hunt you for sport but now I really wanna know what Knife Monopoly is

•••

Paradise: Is anyone else scared?

Yargwynn: Not really. I've already lived longer than I expected

•••

Faithful: This can't get any worse

Albus: Sure it can. Just give me a minute

•••

Tyr: Odin, we tried things your way.

Odin: No we didn't?

Tyr: I did it in my head. It didn't work.

•••

Albus: *wears a dark grey shirt*

Devlin: Ah. Breaking out the spring colors I see

•••

Odin: I have an idea. But I'm going to need your permission

Fenrir: Why do you need my permission?

Odin: Because if I mess it up, I don't want it to be just my fault

•••

Paradise: Can I make a suggestion that doesn’t involve violence or is this the wrong crowd?

•••

Makkaro: You guys are idiots, did you know that?

Frank and the Boney Boys™: In our defense, we actually do know that.

•••

Albus, to Kravitas: I'd tell you to go to Hell, but I don't want to see you again

#Good Boy Audios #GoodBoyAudios #GBA Faithful #GBA Albus #GBA Devlin #GBA Bastard Warrior #GBA Fourseen #GBA Tyr #GBA Odin #GBA Pandora #GBA Ulysses #GBA Yargwynn #Space Pirate Saga #GBA Paradise #GBA MotH #GBA Zed #GBA Guardian #GBA Makkaro

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blackleatherjacketz · 1 year

Note

The first night I saw you

Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Warnings: PTSD, Mentions of Infidelity, Pregnancy, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, My Own Personal Trauma 🫥, Trust Issues

Tags: @bullet-prooflove @skittle479

“It’s positive.” You fake a smile as your lip trembles, pointing at the pregnancy test with tear-stricken eyes as he enters your room, shutting the door behind him.

“You’re not happy?” He takes a seat next to you on the bed as soon as he notices your less than enthusiastic reaction, covering your hand with his in a gentle attempt to break your concentration.

You assume his words indicate that he is… happy about it. A stream of sorrow races down each cheek, blurring your vision before spilling into your lips as you finally relent and turn your head to face your patient lover.

“Hey,” he whispers, taking your face in his hands to gently wipe the tears from your eyes as his features contort in confusion. “What’s wrong? I know we didn’t plan this, but…”

“No, it’s not that.” There’s no way you could possibly verbalize how frightened you are right now without sounding completely insane. How could someone like him possibly understand that the last time a test like this came back positive, all the dominoes in your life seemed to fall until there were none left standing, leaving you there all alone to pick them up? How could you tell him that you willingly faced monsters and mercenaries without any fear because the only thing that truly scared you, the only thing that shook you to your core was this? The possibility of losing him because things had to change.

“I’m just… scared,” you start, not knowing any other way to put it.

You know that Steve is nothing like your ex, nothing like anyone you’ve ever met before in your life, but he’s still a man. Who’s to say that he won’t start seeking affection somewhere else once you begin to grow? Who’s to say that he won’t avoid your glances or shirk your touch after the weight of future responsibilities becomes too heavy for him to bear? Who’s to say what the two of you have together is strong enough to withstand something as disruptive and chaotic as a child?

“You’re gonna be fine, the baby’s gonna be fine.” His voice soothes you for the moment, his palms feathering over your face and hair as he tries to understand the reason for your tears.

“Yeah, but will we?” You sniff and wipe your nose with the back of your wrist, looking into his eyes as if a definitive answer to your question lays deep within their sapphire hues.

“What do you mean? Of course we will.” He presses his lips together and tilts his head to the side, eventually figuring out the root of your fear as a tender look of understanding somehow warms his features. “Do you remember the first night I saw you?”

You nod, unable to do anything else as your entire body shakes in his arms.

“I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and when I started talking to you, I knew that I was right.” He smiles and pulls you into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin as the last of your remaining tears drip off your face and onto his lap. “Seeing you as the mother of our child will only make you more beautiful.”

You can’t quite process his reaction as his words settle into the air, shocking you into stunned silence as they begin to melt over you, warming your entire body with that secure feeling Steve always brought with him. He takes his time to cradle you, surrounding you with his massive arms, rocking you back and forth before kissing the top of your head. “Whatever you’re afraid of, we’ll face it together, okay?” He places his hand over your belly, holding it there until the streaks of saline dry onto your face in patterns of little white crystals.

“Promise?” You look up at him, your bones no longer vibrating at full intensity as he eases his grip on you.

“Promise.” He kisses you again, this time so passionately that you almost believe him.

#nomad steve rogers #Steve rogers #Captain America #nomad steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #Steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x female reader #nomad steve rogers x reader

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dangermousie · 1 year

Text

He will imprison you! In his arms :P You can hunt for the demon bone together.

Good boys always fancy bad girls, or vice versa. Heh.

Ming Ye, you are sweet and unworldly, but no woman, outside of Li Qin in The Wolf, would want to be with a man, however hot, who is (indirectly) responsible for the death of her entire clan. (Side note - not sure if they will keep this in the drama, but if they do keep what happened in the novel to Xiwu’s family, perhaps TTJ and Susu should have taken this as a warning.)

Sweetheart, she’s moved past cottagecore into hardcore Goth, sorry!

This is where I decide that SJ is arguably dimmer than MY. This is completely irrational! I get she grieves but like - it’s a chance to bring them all back. Bring them back and then kill snake girl later! MY did plenty of dumb things, but trading TH being allowed to live as a miserable mortal for a cup that gives a chance for SJ’s whole tribe to come back, is not one of them. (Though @aysekira pointed out, oops, SJ consumed her clansmen to forge a sword so I guess it ain’t happening, so maybe she’s all who cares, it can’t bring anyone back.)

No, because (a) she’s gone craaaaazy and (b) I don’t think she thinks there is a way to bring her back, even with the fanciest china bowl in history.

That’s the first time I’ve seen someone being dissed for being fair and compassionate :P

Ummm...what...what...what?! It’s one thing to say it’s fair to murder snake girl for genocide, regardless of fancy dishware, but this is quite a jump from that.

I totally get why she (a) thinks it’s impossible to be with him and (b) wishes she never fell for him and (c ) is full of hate.

Where I go “umm, what’s wrong with you!” is when she breaks the crystal bowl because she wants to find her own way to rescue her clansmen/not be entangled with him any more. LIKE LADY YOU ARE INSANE!!!

You are DUMB!!!! Oh my God. My sympathy is fast being replaced by irritation. By now, they both just make me tired since I’ve never seen two people this devoted to making themselves miserable and everything way harder than it has to be. I am ready for this arc to be over. I find it well-written (these characters are in character) but these are two tiresome people and I am ready for them to perish and for us to get back to the actual mains.

Of course.

Interestingly, even with my issues with it, this arc is way better than in the novel, where it was interesting for plot-related reasons but other than that, nah.

What it does demonstrate is that anyone can go demonic if they suffer enough trauma. If SJ, the sweet and silly clam girl, turned into a demon queen because of trauma, is it really fair to blame TTJ for going demonic after the hell he went through?

#cdrama #luo yunxi #bai lu #till the end of the moon

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whump-me · 1 year

Text

Martyr, Chapter 9: True Believers

Chapter 9 of Martyr, a novel-length sci-fi whump story about a captured Martian rebel with a secret and the renowned interrogator who has waited a decade for the chance to break him. This series is best read in order. Masterpost here.

Contains: defiant whumpee, cold whumper, restraints, interrogation, verbal sparring, war crimes mentions

---

Wraith

Isadora paused to draw in a long breath, then another. She sounded like she was breathing through a straw all of a sudden. Huh. Now that was interesting. She looked like she was actually having trouble getting herself to talk.

She was probably faking, of course. Isadora Pope didn’t have feelings, let alone show them to a prisoner. No, she just wanted him to think they were here to bare their souls to one another—as if they were two old friends sitting on a park bench late at night, staring up at the dome, sharing a bottle of something bitter and strong between them. As if anything could make him forget where he was.

On the other hand, she did have feelings—he had firsthand evidence of that. Firsthand, literally—his right one, the one she had kicked when she had lost control.

He leaned in attentively as she took another delaying breath. Whether she was faking or not, this was going to be interesting.

“I was a young soldier back then,” she said. “Earth was my first assignment. I drew the short straw—I didn’t want to be here. No one did. I wanted to make a difference by fighting the rebels in Russia who were burning their own cities to spite the Unified Earth forces—not babysit a bunch of factory workers.”

Babysitting. Was that what they called it? The only thing that stopped Wraith from tightening his hands into fists was that he knew exactly how much pain it would cause him. Instead, he tightened his jaw until he could practically hear the bones straining against each other.

“It was sheer dumb luck that I wasn’t in the right dome when it happened,” she said. “My commanding officer sent me to deliver a message halfway across the planet—or at least it seemed that way to me that day. I resented being used as a messenger. If there’s one job that feels more useless than guarding a factory door, it’s running a message clear across to the next dome like a cheap drone. So I went as slowly as I could. I suppose I thought I was making a point. I missed the train back, and to take the next one. It was halfway to the dome when it exploded.”

She swallowed. Her neck was tight. She didn’t look like Isadora Pope just then. She certainly didn’t look like a statue or a goddess. She looked… human. Like anyone who had seen too much—and that was everyone Wraith knew, these days. It made the lines of her face looked uncomfortably familiar.

It was an act.

“From where I was sitting, I had a great view,” she said, her voice bitter and raw where she had shown nothing but ice and stone before. An act. It had to be. “I saw buildings fly apart. I saw… people. Or at least pieces of them. I even thought I saw my commanding officer, but it was probably my imagination. It wasn’t like there was much to recognize. He was missing half his face.”

Wraith shook his head slowly. “Is this supposed to make me feel sorry for you? Because even if I believed this little sob story of yours, which I don’t, you’d have to do a lot better than that. You want war stories? I’ve got all kinds I could tell you. Like the time you murdered an old man for hanging anti-Earth posters in the tunnels. We took out the soldiers who did it. And by we, I mean I. I took care of both of them personally. Dropped them on your doorstep after.” He gave Isadora a jagged grin. “And in retaliation, Special Security killed everyone the man had been in contact with for the past six months, and all their families with them. You were in charge by then, weren’t you? You were the one who ordered it. So if you want to trade stories, be prepared to come up with a decade’s worth.”

“They sent me back to Earth,” said Isadora. “They said I needed to recuperate. Get therapy. No doubt rot away in some desk job for the rest of my life. I let them send me back, because when you’re a soldier, you do what you’re told. I took the six months. I did all the therapy, aced it with flying colors, until I had my clean bill of health in hand. And then…”

“And then you did what a soldier isn’t supposed to do,” Wraith guessed. “You objected to your orders. You asked to be sent back here, and then you asked again, and again, until they put you on a ship just to be rid of you. Can’t say I blame them.” He shook his head. “This place almost killed you. It’s only dumb luck that kept you alive. And practically the first thing you did was demand to come back. You’re one to talk about people who have more anger than sense.”

But he frowned, because while a mission of revenge made sense, it didn’t fit what he knew about Isadora Pope. Then again, all he knew came from her former prisoners, which meant they hadn’t been in much of a state to give reliable testimony. But in the short time he’d known Isadora personally, she hadn’t struck him as the vengeful type.

For all her talk of his crimes, for all she must have spent the past ten years wishing death on the leader of the rebellion, she hadn’t shown even the slightest temptation to vent a decade’s worth of anger on him. Not like that guard from his first day here. She had been coldly professional, even while breaking his fingers. When he had finally made her angry, it didn’t have anything to do with the long list of crimes in his file. It was because he had made her look bad.

Isadora let out a mirthless chuckle. “People like you see everything through the lens of anger, don’t you? You’re animals, letting the heat in your blood drive you this way and that, until it drives you to your own destruction. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t only a problem with your side. Every year, Earth sends me recruits brimming with the desire to avenge those who died. Some of them are very good at their jobs, even fresh out of training. It doesn’t matter—I always send them back. Anger is a dangerous master. Especially when you convince yourself it’s not the one in charge.”

“You missed one,” said Wraith, thinking of the beating he had taken.

“Pardon?”

“One of your vengeance-fueled recruits. He decided to take out his anger on me when I first got here. It’s a good thing his fear of you was stronger, or we might not be having this conversation right now.”

Her eyes flashed. “Don’t change the subject.”

There it was again—that small spark of heat in her cold eyes. He had done it again, poked her ego right in the soft squishy middle, and he hadn’t even really been trying. He smiled at her, just to let her know she had seen. Aloud, he only said, “If you didn’t come back for revenge, then why? I know it wasn’t for the weather.”

She went silent for a moment, and Wraith got the impression she was weighing her words carefully, trying to decide how open to be. That alone was surprising. Hadn’t she come prepared with all the lies she’d need? Was it possible she was actually telling him the truth?

When she spoke, her voice was strangely soft. “Purpose,” she said. “The thing I thought the military would give me. I wanted to be a part of something greater than myself. I want my life to mean something. But there isn’t much meaning in following orders and delivering messages. My therapist used to say sometimes tragedy opens a door in a person’s mind that lets them see what they were born for. In my case, it was true.”

If she hadn’t been Isadora Pope, if he hadn’t known she must be an accomplished liar, he would have thought she was giving him a genuine confession. Hell, he was halfway to believing it, even knowing what he knew. Something about the look in her eyes, the tone of her voice, spoke of an almost painful sincerity. It made him want to trust her, even though he knew there was nothing more dangerous in this world.

“So what’s your purpose, if not revenge?” he asked. “Seems to me there aren’t many other reasons to care so deeply about wiping us out.”

“From the beginning, Earth was careless about Mars. Everyone resented being here, and so no one approached the task of pacifying your planet with the necessary singleness of purpose. Myself included.” She shook her head. A few strands of hair flew across her face. She pushed them out of the way. “My purpose is to change that. I’m here because someone has to care what happens on this planet—care enough to give up everything to make sure what happened ten years ago can never happen again.”

Maybe it was the way her perfectly straight hair grew ever-so-slightly mussed when she shook her head. Or maybe it was how the severe lights overhead reflected off her eyes, which gleamed with raw conviction suddenly, making her look like she was lit from within. Whatever the trigger, another image popped back into his head, overlaid on top of the image of Isadora sitting in front of him. He saw Gabriel, sitting at his desk, his hair like a halo. And just like that, he knew why his gut wanted to trust her.

That conviction in her voice was Gabriel’s conviction. That glow in her eyes, which grew until it seemed to outshine the harsh light from above, was Gabriel’s inner fire. It triggered a reflexive warm glow in him, even though that was the last thing he wanted to feel in Isadora Pope’s presence. And along with that glow, he felt a familiar yearning, a pull just above his belly button—the longing that came from being just outside the circle of light, wanting in.

Wraith wasn’t a true believer. Not like Gabriel. The only inner fire he carried with him was of the type Isadora so reviled. Anger drove him, hot and bright and righteous. But it was not his master. And Gabriel was the reason for that.

It would have mastered him, back in those early days, if he hadn’t had Gabriel by his side. Oh, how he had hated Gabriel’s voice of reason, his soft words and gentle touches that cooled the fire in Wraith’s veins. But it had kept him alive.

He had come to appreciate the deep conviction that drove Gabriel. But he didn’t share it. He was grateful for that. If he believed the way Gabriel did, he would never have been able to do half the things he had done. Gabriel was all heart, and his heart still remembered how to do something other than burn. It was impossible to do what was necessary when you felt everything.

But he understood true believers, even if he wasn’t one of them. Ten years’ worth of late-night conversations with Gabriel would do that. Which meant Isadora had just handed him a powerful key.

He fought to keep himself from grinning like a madman. He didn’t want her to know what she had done. Not just yet.

He knew who Isadora Pope was now. He knew it the way he knew Gabriel—all the way down to his bones. And because he knew Gabriel’s secret wishes and hidden fears and darkest thoughts, it couldn’t be that hard to figure out all those things about Isadora. It was like that stuff in school he had barely paid attention to—given X, solve for Y. Where X was the man he loved, and Y was his worst enemy.

“So you see,” said Isadora, jolting him from his triumphant thoughts, “I understand you better than you think.”

At first, he didn’t understand how she was echoing his own thoughts back to him. But she wasn’t, of course. She thought she had the key to him. That because of who he was, because of his position in the rebellion, he shared those core convictions, that inner fire. Because how could someone lead a rebellion for ten years otherwise? How could he inspire people to follow him?

With any luck, she would never know the truth of that. What he had truly done for the rebellion. How he had ended up where he was.

But her assumptions could serve him well. She wanted him to play Gabriel, did she? He could play Gabriel. There was no one on this planet or any other that he knew better.

---

Tagged: @straight-to-the-pain @soheavyaburden @gala1981 @whumpacabra @sacredwrath @suspicious-whumping-egg @sonder35 @decahedron-crabclaw @seasaltandcopper

Ask to be added or remove from taglist. Please feel free to ask to be tagged—I don’t find it rude! I like knowing people are reading.

#whump #whump writing #whump story #whump novel #my writing #my writing: Martyr #sci-fi whump #interrogation whump

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haysprite · 1 year

Note

can we hear some of your headcanons about frank :)

OMG YES !!! I feel like my interpretation of him is like really different than other people's, but its finnnneee :o) Also there's a lot so brace yourself 👍 I also wanted to focus more on just him this time around since I've already done a HC dump about him and Julie !

• AuDHD also go brrr (I’ll be real I’ve hit all four of em with this lmfao)

• Has a really high pain tolerance! He could break a bone or somethin and literally try to walk it off despite the other’s protests.

• ON THE OTHER HAND THO, he is PATHETIC when it comes to getting sick (which isn’t often, but that means it hits him HARD when he does). Talk about man colds fr 🙏 The other three tend to make fun of him for this, but Julie still takes care of him cause she finds it a bit funny and wants to help her silly bf out.

• Absolutely loves being the center of attention, so he defo tries to impress anyone around him

• He really did enjoy playing basketball and being on Fairview’s team! He didn’t really get along with most of his team, but he was pretty good at the sport and being on the court was sometimes freeing for him. Was also a p good excuse to stay away from home.

• Dropped out of school early into his senior year, punching that referee was simply his final straw

• During the car ride to Ormond, he defo tried to run away while Clive was stopped to get some gas, but got caught pretty quickly. Frank may be strong, but Clive was stronger, and managed to force him back into the car. The rest of the ride was pretty silent after this

• Absolutely loves hoodies and jackets, and is rarely seen without one (whether he’s wearing it or just has it on hand). They’re just comfy, what can I say

• Loves the thrill of fights, which he gets into a bit more often than he probably should. Also tends to be the one to throw the first punch.

• He is NOT a morning person whatsoever. It takes him forever to finally drag his ass out of bed. He’s more of a night person, both for the peacefulness and because there’s more potential to cause some mayhem without getting caught.

• Though he’s the leader of the Legion, most of the plans and ideas come from Julie and Joey, since they actually like to think plans through unlike Frank, who will jump straight into something without giving it a second thought. He’s got zero impulse control lets be fr

• Hates the quiet, he either has to have music playing or be talking to somebody or else he just feels uncomfortable

• Has quite a few tattoos, though the only one ever really visible is the one on his neck. Got his first tattoo at 15 and loved the rush he got from getting one. I feel like he got his neck tattoo right before being dragged to Ormond at (roughly) 17. He had to be sneaky about getting them, ofc, but he’s always been pretty good at faking IDs and lying about his age (hence why he’s able to get his hands on alcohol n shit p easily).

• He’s a bit of a flirt, having a pretty charming nature to him, which he defo uses to his advantage when he needs to get out of sticky situations

• Not trusted behind the steering wheel, so Julie or Joey are always the ones to drive everyone places, which he’s a bit annoyed by, but he got over it eventually

• Has a lil collection of random trinkets he’s saved throughout his life, like things he’s stolen from every foster home he’s been through, random shit he’s found on the ground, gifts given to him by his friends, etc

• Whenever he was relocated, he would ALWAYS research as much as he possibly could about where he was being sentenced to. He found the history behind certain places really interesting, especially if there were any murders or creepy shit involved, and it also helped him plan out ways to get out of there as quickly as possible.

• Absolutely hates Clive with the PASSION. He did nothing but ignore Frank, no matter how hard he tried to get his attention. Frank picked a lot of verbal fights with him, some of them almost escalating into something physical, but Clive wasn’t afraid to fight back and stopped each fight pretty quickly.

• Got kicked out about half a year after turning 18, but he didn’t really care since he basically lived at the lodge anyway. Just meant he was finally free from living with Clive permanently

• He has a funny older brother / younger sister relationship with Susie. They’ll do shit like yelling at each other from across the lodge about what kind of pizza they should get, or walking into the room the other is in only to stand there silently before turning off the lights and BOOKING it. They annoy each other a lot, but they do it out of love (platonic obv) lmfao

• He and Joey do stupid shit like wrestling, arm wrestling, or straight up fights to see who’s stronger. Despite Frank being the one to initiate most of these, Joey wins a good 90% of the time unless he’s really caught off guard.

• Would do literally anything for Julie <3 He is so pathetically in love with her. I feel like Susie bugged him a lot about this before he and Julie started dating, calling him out whenever she caught him staring at Julie for too long or just teasing him about it

• Is REALLY bad at comforting his friends when they’re feelin down, but he tries his best 👍 It’s either him threatening to kick the ass of whoever made them upset, or just being silent and letting them vent cause he doesn’t really know how to respond

• Got super excited when he found out Julie also loved slasher films and learning about serial killers, and was really happy about finally having someone to talk about this shit with. They have movie nights a lot where they watch stupid slasher films for sure !

• It takes a lot to calm him down when he’s angry. Though his friends are sometimes able to help, most of the time they have to leave him be and let him punch or break some shit to release his anger.

• He always feels really bad whenever he blows up at one of his friends, he just struggles with actually apologizing about it. Julie is helping him a lot with this, and even though progress is slow, he’s slowly learning and getting better at it

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chackyxyooj · 1 year

Text

Like Boats in the Night

Note: AoT Season 4 (Part 1) Potential Spoilers; WC ~5700

The wind was loud and harsh against the skin of passersby that evening. Most of them had already gone to bed for the night, though a select few chose to remain away from their homes. Whether it was for a moment of peace, late business hours, a moment to take the edge off or a little bit of adventure in a boring mundane life. Regardless of the reason though they all shared a common denominator.

They were all here in hopes of figuring something out.

A young auburn haired man grumbled in discomfort as the door to the bar swung open.

The bar was a small one located in the richer section of town; the northern side. Far away from the soldier training grounds and Eldian living area. Just how many of the Marelyan’s liked it.

The front and left walls of the bar were made of bricks, chairs and tables lined up along the sides. The back and right walls were connected to other rooms and separated with wooden planks. The bar, and the section that the bartender stayed in, was a square in the middle of the room that connected with the back wall. A door which led to the back kitchen was pushed off to the back right corner.

Empty glasses hung off the wall behind the bar. The barkeeper sat off to the side cleaning a glass while a young couple made small talk in the opposite corner of the bar. Three men playing cards were tucked away in the front right corner, opposite the auburn haired male.

Just entering the bar was a tired woman. From her clothing one could tell that she was a soldier of some sort. Her clothing looked like a uniform of some sort though it was unkempt. Everyone in the small bar chose to mind their own business, though the woman had quickly caught the attention of the auburn haired male.

“What can I get for ya, darlin?” Asked the barkeep.

“Something strong. I’ve had a really long day.”

“How bout a Queen’s Blue Tonic?”

“What’s in it?”

“It’s better you don’t know. Just know that it’ll likely knock you out in a good moment if ya don’t get somethin in your stomach.”

“Don’t worry,” the woman smirked, “I’m a pretty heavy drinker.”

The barkeep shrugged, “well, don’t expect me ta do anythin special if ya end up koncked out. You’ll be thrown out just like all the otha fools who drink more than they can handle.”

“Duly noted.”

The auburn haired male had been intrigued by the unknown woman as soon as she walked in. He had been coming to this bar for a good while now and he hadn’t seen anyone like her come in here before.

Now, it was a real shitty thing to pick someone up at a bar, especially when they looked to be having a bad day, but could you have really blamed the auburn haired male? Who didn’t want a prince charming like himself to cheer them up?

The woman had downed her drink in a single shot after the bartender had given it to her. To the auburn haired male’s surprise she hadn’t seemed fazed at all. She wasn’t even flushed. The only other person the auburn haired male had seen take a heavy drink and not get phased was a certain green eyed male… Something to do with his ‘special abilities.’

Regardless, the auburn haired male had decided that he was definitely going to talk to this unknown woman.

“So what brings a sweet girl like you to a place like this?” Asked the auburn haired male.

The woman rolled her eyes, “I can break your arm in three different ways and every bone in your hand, Mister. I’ve had a very bad day and I doubt you want to be on the receiving end of my annoyance.”

Mister smirked, “well, I’ve heard that the best remedy for a bad day is a drink-”

“That is what I happen to be doing.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“If the answer ends in something I find unpleasant you are definitely going to be leaving this bar with a broken bone.”

“Let’s make this a good one then.” the auburn haired male, Mister grinned widely, “I’ve heard that you need a strong drink and a fresh listener.”

“A fresh listener?”

“Of course! Someone who you don’t know is always the best person to vent to.”

“And are you offering your ‘fresh listening’ services to me?”

“Only if you insist.”

“I’m not insisting.”

“Well I certainly am.”

The woman chuckled, “I guess I’ll entertain you if you’re that insistent. There’s this friend of mine who’s been lying to me and I recently figured it out. I’ve been ignoring them and while I know that’s childish I’m not really sure what to do.”

“So what if it’s childish?” Mister provoked, “you shouldn’t have to do anything that you don’t want to. If you want to ignore that person then ignore that person.”

“That advice was… surprising.”

“In a good way?”

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

The auburn haired male hadn’t been expecting this conversation to go so… well. There weren’t many people in his life that humoured him and even less that put up with his banter. Giving a piece of advice was the least he could do for this tired woman.

Regardless of how he felt he knew that nothing would ever come out of this conversation.

She was likely to become just another pretty face in the night that would blur with all the other people that he had met before. It was what happened when you met a lot of different people.

Though, while in the moment, the auburn haired male would enjoy it. It was nice to be around someone that didn’t take him for a condescending asshole. There were definitely more parts to him and perhaps some of them would be seen tonight.

“You know, if you were trying to hit on me, you’re doing a very bad job at it.” teased the woman.

Mister chuckled, “you don’t even think that I deserve a chance? I am quite the looker you know?”

“If you say so.”

“Do you want another drink or something to eat? That drink you had was enough to put a six foot male to sleep. I’ll ask the barkeep for you, though you would have to pay for it.”

Now it was the woman’s turn to laugh, “you really are charming, aren’t you Mister?”

Mister held his hands up in mock surrender, “guilty as charged.”

“Anyways, it’s alright. I’m a really heavy drinker. I don’t like to brag but it really does take a lot for me to feel something.” the woman yawned, “besides, I only came here for a quick drink. Curfew for us Warriors is coming up soon, so I need to be heading back.”

“Well, don’t say that I didn’t offer.”

“Oh, you didn’t! It’s on me, remember.”

Truly, the auburn haired male was caught. It had been awhile since he could last recall having this much fun when talking with someone. It really was so much easier when you were talking with a stranger.

Perhaps he would have to start making small talk with strangers more. Though he doubted there would be many strangers like her around. Or at least, not many people that would put up with an intrusive stranger like him. Not to mention he still needed to do what he had come here for. He still had a mission that he needed to complete.

“Say,” the woman’s icey blue gaze met his own as she eyed him curiously, “you look rather familiar. Do I know you from somewhere? Were you perhaps a soldier or cadet in the army at one point?”

“Definitely not.” the auburn haired male, for the first time tonight, lied, “I’m not much of a fighter. I can name at least ten people that are better than me.”

______________________________________________________

The most interesting people are found at night. Or at least the people who had the most to say about something could be found at night. Talking to folks when they were relaxed and had their guard down was the best time to get information out of people.

Or at least, that was what they told the auburn haired male.

He had been assigned a mission that he needed to complete. A mission that involved the collection of information. Unfortunately, he seemed to be tough out of luck tonight - which was why he found himself back in a familiar bar with a drink in hand as he attempted to find something useful.

His mind wandered back to the icey eyed woman. As someone in the military, it was likely that she knew at least some secrets. And had she said something about the Warriors? The auburn haired male honestly wasn’t too sure.

His mind hadn’t been in the right place when he had started talking to her.

And frankly, it likely wasn’t right at this moment either.

Time statute of limitations was quickly coming to a close and the auburn haired male had barely gathered any information that they didn’t already know.

Perhaps drowning his sorrows in drink after drink wasn’t the best way to gather information. Though, in the defence of the auburn haired male, any information that he did find was likely not going to change anything anyway.

The plans had already been set in motion. All they had to do was wait. Wait for just the right moment before they-

“What’s got you in the dumps today, Mister?” Asked a familiar voice.

Well, speak -think- if the devil and thou shall appear

“Was it that obvious?” The auburn haired male asked.

“No,” she grinned, “it just happens to be one of my special abilities. I like to consider myself an empath of sorts.”

“At least one of us is in a good mood.” Mister downed the rest of his drink, “so what brings you back here? You seem more like a one time customer than a regular patron.”

“I’m not too sure about it either,” she gestured to the barkeep, “perhaps I just wanted more of your ‘amazing’ advice. The Barkeep had poured two shots of whatever Mister had already been drinking before heading back to the other side of the bar. The woman with icy eyes seemed to smirk when she noticed that the auburn haired male was only eyeing his drink. “Don’t worry, Mister, it’s on me.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Depends.”

“Depends?”

“Yeah.” The woman nodded, “it depends on how any of our further interactions go. We may not even speak again. The line of work I’m involved in is rather dangerous.”

“So is mine.”

“What was that?”

Mister chuckled, “nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.”

The woman looked as if she wanted to say something but shook her head, “so what seems to be bothering you?”

“What makes you think I’d tell you?”

“Well,” the woman grinned. It certainly seemed that she was enjoying tonight much more than the auburn haired male, “a certain ‘Prince Charming’ had told me a strong drink and a fresh listener was a good remedy to any problems someone might be having.”

“You’re not fresh. I’ve already spoken to you.”

“Come on! It’ll be the least I can do after you spoke to me. We can call it payment for the drinks.”

Mister was suddenly regretting his own brash actions from the previous night. He hadn’t been expecting her to return and entirely ignored his own selfish wants to find her again. By admitting his selfish wants, he would be admitting that he had violated rule number two.

Don’t make any connections beyond information gathering.

Well, he was already in too deep. He doubted that the woman would let him go without spilling at least a little bit of information about himself.

“Well, there’s this girl-”

She cut him off, “you don’t have to lie.”

“And how do you know I’m lying?”

“You wouldn’t have been ‘flirting’ with me the other night if there was ‘some girl’ that you cared about. No, you seem more like someone who’s stressed from work.” She had hit the nail right on its head.

“And how in the world did you come to that conclusion?”

“I’m an empath, remember?”

“Of course. You don’t seem very keen on letting me forget.”

“So, what’s got you so stressed?”

Was this really the right thing to be talking about?

Well, it was worth taking a shot. Any advice was better than nothing at this point.

It’s not like she would end up being someone he knew, right?

“There… is someone I admire. He’s a coworker, and he’s asked me to do something for him but I’m not too sure how things will play out.” ‘Mister continued, “I think his idea is brilliant, but I’m just not sure if I can do what he’s asked of me.”

“Wow. It really does sound like you have it rough.”

“Yeah. So do you have any brilliant advice to help me out?”

“Well, is this ‘thing’ you have to do illegal?” asked the woman.

Mister grinned mischievously, “in a way.”

The icy eyed woman continued, “well then, I guess you’ll just have to ask yourself how important this ‘thing you have to do’ is and if this ‘person you admire’ is really worth it. Honestly, what you should be truly asking yourself is, how far are you willing to go?”

How far was he willing to go?

How many people would die or get hurt from the actions that Mister would do. From the crimes that he would commit? Would it end up taking his own life?

Mister wasn’t all too sure yet.

Despite seeming like a woman around his age her words seemed many years past his own. Her eyes got this strange faraway look as she spoke to him. It looked as though she had many demons of her own.

Thinking about how much other people could be suffering was always such a strange thing for the auburn haired male. He had grown up in a time and place where people only focused on themselves. On their own wants and needs. His own father had been someone who placed his needs above his childrens’ needs - above his own.

So, it was hard for him to consider the feelings of others sometimes.

He guessed that everyone had their own problems that they needed to deal with.

After a long moment of silence between the auburn haired and icy eyed woman, the bartender had come back, asking, “so is that all the two of y’all be drinkin?”

The icy eyed woman nodded before placing a few bills on the table.

“Y'all want change?”

“It’s alright.”

The barkeep shrugged, collecting the money before heading off to talk to other patrons of the bar.

“Well, good luck with any problems you have, Mister.” the icy eyed woman smiled, “oh, and if you were wondering, my name’s (Y/n) (L/n).”

______________________________________________________

Of course the icy eyed woman would end up being someone he knew.

(Y/n) (L/n).

Who didn’t know (Y/n) (L/n)? Marley’s prodigy Crystal Shifter.

One of the five Titan Shifters that Marley controlled; one of the two Warriors that had returned from their five year mission to the devil island, Paradis, and the girl who was just shy of placing among the top ten of the 104 cadets.

Mister was simultaneously freaking out and realising what kind of opportunity this was. There was a high possibility that Mister would end up saying something that would compromise his position, yet there was likely a lot of important information that he might’ve been able to get out of her.

Now that the auburn haired male actually thought about it, he did think that it was rather strange that she didn’t recognize him earlier. While she had been drinking the first night that he had approached her, she wasn’t one to get drunk - even if the drink was a heavy one. Perhaps he was just so unmemorable that he hadn’t stuck in her memory? Had he really been just another drop in the ocean that was her life?

Truthfully though, the auburn male hadn’t exactly recognized her at first either.

Her appearance had changed a bit from when she was younger. While the young (Y/n) had always been cute, it seemed that she had grown into her features better. Finishing puberty seemed to have done wonders for her. Her form seemed much stronger than it had been when they were younger. But the thing that separated this (Y/n) from the young one that Mister had met was the confidence she walked with.

Before, Mister thought that the (h/c) haired girl had always walked around as if she were nervous. As if she didn’t belong. At first, the auburn haired male thought that it might’ve been because she had been born closer to the interior and was nervous about her new surroundings. Then, he had assumed it to be because her ‘sister’ Mina had died.

Now though, he understood the reason why.

A confidence that commanded soldiers and made enemies fall to their feet was what followed her, and it was that confidence which prevented Mister from recognizing her at first. The confidence was intimidating, demanded attention and most of all, was attractive.

Mister had always considered (Y/n) to be cute, but he hadn’t thought of her as attractive before.

Regardless of how the auburn male felt there was still a mission he needed to complete. An assignment that needed to be fulfilled.

Everyone who had been assigned with infiltration had been told not to interact with the Warrior Candidates or Warriors - especially the Crystal Titan Shifter. But that didn’t stop Mister from going to the very same bar that he met her.

The first few nights could be argued as incompetence and confusion.

Tonight though, would be him directly going against orders.

Orders were the last thing on his mind as the icey eyed girl took a seat beside him, ordering the same drink she had last time.

Mister wondered if the (h/c)ette had done something to alter the colouring of her eyes. If it had something to do with Marley’s technology or with her Titan Shifting abilities.

“So, do you live here?” (Y/n) asked, resting her head on her hand.

The auburn haired male turned to face her, “this happens to be my first time here this week, Miss (Y/n). If anything, I’d think you were the one who lives here. Though, if I had the chance of seeing someone as attractive as myself here, I’d keep coming as well.”

(Y/n) playfully rolled her eyes, “you’re cute, but don’t you think you’re flattering yourself a little too much, Mister?”

“Really? I can cook, clean and fight! Not to mention that I’m quite the looker.” the auburn haired male gave the girl a wink, “the whole package deal if you ask me.”

“Perhaps we just have different ideas of what ‘the whole package’ is.”

“And what is your ideal man, or woman, Miss (Y/n)?”

The girl let out a chuckle, “I find guys with short, dark hair attractive, so I might not be the right person to judge your physical appearance. Personality wise, I think it’s humble guys that really get me going.”

“And what do you mean by ‘get you going’?” Teased the auburn haired male.

“I’m going to need a few more drinks before we get to talking about personal things like that.”

“A few? More like an entire store’s worth.”

Her eyes cleared up as she looked at Mister curiously, “do I give off the impression of a heavy drinker?”

Oh shit!

“Well, it was just that on the first night we met you were drinking a heavy drink and didn’t get very drunk! I just assumed that-”

“Oh!” She let out an airy chuckle, “I wasn’t talking about myself getting drunk! What I meant was that you’ll need a few more drinks before I tell you anything.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, you know who I am and I don’t know who you are. I wouldn’t want to tell you anything if you’ll remember it. Can’t have you telling all my secrets and then slipping away in the night, can I?”

Mister was curious to know if his cover was blown yet, or if (Y/n) was always this protective when telling people things about herself? It seemed that the latter was more likely. After all, even before he had known who she was she was still hesitant when talking about herself.

“Then how about another drink then?” The auburn haired male asked.

“Sure,” (Y/n) smirked, “on me, of course.”

“Of course.”

---

“So, you can’t remember who you had your first kiss with?” (Y/n) asked.

Mister, whose face was already flushed from drinking, nodded, “yes! Because of my late shift I was basically the last person to arrive at the party. Everyone thought it a great idea to start playing a drinking version of truth or dare as soon as I arrived. I had about five too many drinks when the person sitting next to me was dared to kiss me.”

(Y/n) smiled, “you sound like you’ve had quite the entertaining life as a soldier.”

“Yeah.” Mister took another swig before grinning, “So who was your first kiss with, Miss (Y/n)?”

“My first kiss was with a boy when we were around… ten?”

“Ten! That doesn't count!” the auburn haired male exclaimed, “what about back when you were a cadet? You had all the boys chasing you back then, didn’t you?”

“Well, that’s a bit of an overstatement.”

“Perhaps we should start thinking of ways of getting you home, Mister.” (Y/n) chuckled, “do you need me to walk you home?”

“You know, I used to wonder why you six didn’t get drunk! If I had known about the shifty thing about you shifters and your drinking, I wouldn’t have agreed back-”

“Oh there you are!!” exclaimed a young boy who had entered the bar, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

If the auburn haired male had been in the right state of mind, he would’ve noticed the stiffness of the newcomer as they (the newcomer) spotted the Crystal Shifter. He would’ve been able to stop himself from saying such careless things.

It was just lucky for him that (Y/n)’s own relief had kept her from putting the pieces together at that moment or Mister might’ve found himself encased in crystal.

“Ah! Tom! I was wondering if you’d come to find me today!”

“And of course you had to be drunk.”

(Y/n) gave an apologetic smile, “sorry! That’s most definitely my fault.”

“Oh! I-it’s alright ma’am!” ‘Tom’ exclaimed, keeping his head down, “my… uncle! Yes, my uncle here has a… problem with drinking! My parents have been worried sick about him!”

“Oh! I’m sorry for helping him indulge in a bad habit then.”

“Hey!” Mister suddenly quipped, “I am not your uncle! We’re practically the same age!”

(Y/n) laughed, “well, since it seems that Mister here is in good hands, I’ll be heading out now.”

“Goodbye ma’am!” squeaked ‘Tom’.

With the final shutting of the door, ‘Tom’ let out a sigh of relief before turning to Mister with a scowl in his face.

“I thought you said that you had the Crystal Titan Shifter under control!” ‘Tom’ exclaimed.

Mister grimaced, but a response never came as he passed out, falling face first onto the table.

______________________________________________________

“I don’t like it here.” exclaimed a young boy who had flopped back in his seat.

A young girl, who seemed to be around the same age as the boy, smiled playfully, “and yet you continue to linger.”

The young boy rolled his eyes, “only because it was necessary for me. I feel like the air stings my eyes and the foreign language feels bitter against my tongue.”

The young children sat at a small cafe, opposite the bar that Mister frequented. A small table was set up for the two of them. The pair of children sat opposite one another and seemed to have been somewhere within their mid-teens. They were both fair haired and light skinned, leaving Mister to wonder if they were related somehow.

“Maybe it’s your toxic personality that’s tainted the environment around here?” teased the girl.

The boy scoffed, “I bet you think you’re so clever.”

“I don’t think so. I know.”

Mister didn’t stay to listen to any more of the conversation - not that he cared to listen. It seemed like such a meaningless conversation in the long run. Especially when he had such an important mission to complete.

Mister could barely remember what had happened last night. Something about learning secrets after a few too many drinks.

The auburn haired male’s frustration was accompanied with a throbbing headache and a pain in his side. Everything was uncomfortable.

Oh, how he missed days where he could be blissful and ignorant. His own childhood had been very easy, especially in comparison to those that he knew. He hadn’t been chased out of his home and forced into service. It was something that he had chosen to do. A choice that he had been privileged enough to make.

And all the decisions that Mister chose to make accumulated to him currently listening to pointless conversations like this one.

There were whispers of runaway couples, men who never returned home to their families after war, and folks who planned the deaths of each other. All such cruel and harsh things, yet all so pointless in the grand scheme of things. All so useless to his mission with nothing in relation to what he had been assigned to gather.

It was almost about as useless as drinking to get rid of a hangover.

“Fancy seeing you here.” An annoyingly chipper voice rang. Mister never really liked early morning conversations, and this one was no different.

A short string of curses began to fall as the auburn haired male turned to greet the new onlooker. However, he very quickly found those words replaced with silence when he met with the icy gaze of the Crystal Titan Shifter.

Her icy gaze didn’t feel quite as cold in the morning as it did at night.

“Not here to drink during the day, are you?”

“I like to think of it as a sort of pick-me-up after a rough night.”

“I’m not sure your… nephew would approve.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t care about his opinion.”

The (h/c) haired female crossed her arms. “Then it’s a bad thing that I do.”

Mister had never really considered red to be one of his favourite colours, but the red band the Crystal Shifter wore particularly caught his eye today. It seemed to be so much more distinct in the morning sunlight. Especially against the dark green jacket she currently wore. Perhaps then, it wasn’t really the band which caught his eye but the jacket beneath it, but Mister wasn’t about to worry himself about it now.

“To be fair, it’s kind of your fault that I have a killer headache this morning.” Replied the auburn haired male.

(Y/n) laughed, “I suppose it is. Instead of an early morning drink, how about a cup of coffee instead? On me, as per usual.”

Mister wasn’t one to turn down a good time, but chit chatting with the enemy has never been the brightest of ideas. If the previous night was a testament to anything, Mister knew the answer he should have given to her offer. Yet despite his better judgement, Mister found himself sitting across from the Crystal Shifter faster than he would’ve thought possible. He almost disliked how eagerly he had agreed to the coffee in the first place.

“So were you hoping to run into me this morning?” teased Mister.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Well, usually when we meet at the bar, it’s because you’d been looking for me.” The auburn haired male grinned, “and I hate to say it, but you are the one who approached me this morning.”

The Crystal Titan Shifter sat back in her seat. “It just so happens that the bar in this part of town is across from one of the best bakeries, in my humble opinion. But I suppose if you like the idea of me coming all this way to search for you, then who am I to put an end to your fantasies?”

“My fantasies?”

“Of course! But… I believe I’m getting ahead of myself. Tell me, can you keep a secret?”

“Depends on the kind of secret you share.”

(Y/n) smiled, but it wasn’t one that made Mister feel at ease. “I’m not supposed to say things like this, but I don’t believe that the wars and battles I fight in are justified.”

“And why would you, a golden child of Marley, say something like that?”

“I’ve seen first hand what the battlefield does to people. I’ve spilled the blood of friends and foes alike. And one day, I’m afraid that the blood spilled will be my own.”

“You say that like you’re scared.”

“Aren’t you?”

The urge to laugh bubbled up inside of the auburn haired male despite the fact that nothing funny had been said. In fact, he didn’t even find what (Y/n) had begun talking about amusing in the slightest. If there had ever been a moment to trust his gut, now would’ve been the time. Not that he decided to listen to himself.

“I’m scared of death, but I’m not scared of dying. I’m scared of my death being meaningless.”

“And what would you describe as a meaningless death?”

“A death that creates no change.”

“For death to be meaningless it would mean that your life was meaningless. And I believe that no life is meaningless.” Mister gave (Y/n) a curious look. A look which must have implied he thought the shifter to be lying as moments later, (Y/n) deadpanned, “do you think I’m lying?”

Something in the way (Y/n)’s gaze had changed from looking at him to through him made Mister feel uneasy.

Mister thought he saw something flicker across the girl’s expression for a moment… something that awfully reminded him of the things she used to do back then. In fact, Mister recalled that all six of them shared that in common. From time to time, their eyes would become glazed over with a longing for something. He didn’t know what it was, but he was sure that it only ever happened to the six of them because they were-

“I noticed that the other night you mentioned something about how the six of us shifters didn’t get drunk.”

“And?”

“And there’s only five Warriors in Marley. Who are you?”

______________________________________________________

They were all here in hopes of figuring something out.

A young auburn haired man grumbled in discomfort as the door to the bar swung open.

The bar was a small one located in the richer section of town; the northern side. Far away from the soldier training grounds and Eldian living area. Just how many of the Marelyan’s liked it.

Empty glasses hung off the wall behind the bar. The barkeeper sat off to the side cleaning a glass, patiently waiting for more customers to serve.

Just entering the bar was a woman. From her clothing one could tell that she was a soldier of some sort. Her clothing looked like a uniform of some sort, which is likely why it came as a surprise that it was so well kept. The woman had quickly caught the attention of the auburn haired male.

The bartender was quick to respond to the woman’s gaze.

“Queen’s Blue Tonic?”

“No drinks tonight. I’m just here to pay off the tab I’ve accumulated.”

As the barkeep nodded, the auburn haired male couldn’t stop himself from making his way to the female’s side.

“Won’t even stop to say hi?”

When the woman turned her gaze towards the auburn haired male, he immediately noticed that her eyes were an icy blue.

A cold gaze that held no familiarity.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Considering a good portion of your tab was accumulated on me, I’d hope you at least remember my name. Unless you’ve forgotten already?”

The woman pulled away from the male, clearly uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, but you must be mistaking me for someone else.”

“No, I’m quite certain I know who I’m talking to.”

“Really? Because I haven’t the slightest clue of who you might be.”

This… wasn’t really happening, was it? The auburn haired male hadn’t said anything during their most recent confrontation which garnered this kind of treatment, had he? Surely not. If anything, the male was certain she would’ve been at least amused to see him.

Instead, he simply sat in shock as the woman paid off her tab with no further comments and left.

He felt just as invisible as he had been as a cadet.

Floch Forester was a no one. A side character in his own life.

#aotxreader #aot x reader #fluff #angst #aot #floch forster

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the-francakes · 1 year

Text

thefrancakes fics finished in 2022...

Cupid. | Dramione, 2k, GA

A Valentine’s Day Party and a letter of intent.

Of course, she would admit her crush to herself at the same moment she discovered he had feelings for someone else.

Lady BloodPure's Society Papers | Panville, 15k, Explicit

Pansy Parkinson must find an eligible suitor by the end of The Pureblood Season or lose all her inheritance. Enter Neville Longbottom.

“Compromising position? Mother, we were in broad daylight and he touched my hand. If she really wants a scandal, Lady BloodPure should figure out all the places I’ve let Draco put his–”

Puppy Dog Eyes | Drarry, 2k, Explicit

Harry bought a puppy and Draco needs to be convinced...

“Plan B it is then,” Harry muttered to himself. Draco raised an eyebrow, unsure of what his husband meant, until Harry’s hands were on the towel around Draco’s waist and he was dropping to his knees.

An Overly Considerate Friend | Jegulus, 8k, Mature

James has to figure out why Regulus is spying on their Quidditch practices. Talking to the cute git is a lot harder than it looks.

James was going to shove sunshine down this boy's throat if it killed him. Sunshine or his- NO JAMES.

Diamond Girls | Hermione x Pansy, 4k, Explicit

Hermione has a parent-teacher conference with the ex-Mrs. Parkinson-Nott with very little clothing on...

Hermione took a shaky breath. She wasn’t sure what she just got herself into, but the wetness between her legs told her she was looking forward to finding out.

The Quidditch Pitch Incident | Blinny, side Dramione, 12k, Explicit

Ginny’s angry at the world and throws all her anger into besting the Slytherin Quidditch team... too bad Blaise Zabini is captain now.

She hated herself for it. Hated how she was absolutely vibrating with the need for him… hated how he just stood there doing the same and yet not moving a muscle.

You & Lily | Jegulus, 6k, Explicit

Regulus comes up with a plan to break James’ heart... then he comes up with another plan to hopefully save it.

It didn’t hurt as much as this, but that was how true pain was caused to someone that loved you. You had to sacrifice yourself to ruin them.

The (Third) Worst Year | Drarry, 20k, Explicit

Draco learns he must kiss his true love by his 25th birthday or turn into a dragon, so he’s making plans for his transformation cause lol never gunna happen.

Finally, out of everything, Draco hated Potter because he was pretty sure he was already in love with the man.

Maid of Honor for a Day, Best Friend for Life | Susan x Blaise, 7k, Explicit

Susan Bones needs a wedding date, and Blaise Zabini is single...

She didn’t even notice the bright gold of the Wedding Bond sealing her best friends together. Not when Blaise Zabini’s gaze was completely and utterly on her every second.

Like Diamonds | Dramione, 3k, Mature

What would have happened if Hermione walked into the 6th floor bathroom instead...

But she also knows he’s human. That he’s sixteen, just like her. That she’s only seen him vulnerable twice now and she wonders if that’s more than anyone else in the castle.

A Good Night for Whimsy and Love | Ron x Luna, 5k, Explicit

Ron comes home from a ‘work trip,’ to his girlfriend and their two kids with a surprise in the making...

But he knew what he wanted. To live and be happy, to not constantly be pushing and struggling to be more, to be loved for who he is, and that be enough.

Soulmates With Benefits | Drinny, 23k, Explicit

Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy discover they are soulmates on the same Quidditch team. The more they, uh, touch, the better they seem to play together.

He settled on Bee because, much like her given name, it held wisdom, rebirth, and romance. It also hurt like fuck when it stung you, just like her words.

Summer Changes | Drarry, 7k, Explicit

Harry learns that Draco has been babysitting Teddy and can’t seem to stay away.

But now, with how he shied away, schooling his emotions, there was no pride in Malfoy’s past. The black void on Malfoy’s arm made Harry wonder if there ever had been.

Locals Only | Draco x Theo x Blaise, 12k, Explicit

Draco has spent the past 5 years without magic and doesn’t know how to explain he loves this life more than he ever loved his other one.

Draco can feel the warmth building inside him, vanishing all the cold he desperately inhaled this morning. He lets Blaise in to take hold of the parts he’s scared to reveal. It takes everything not to break. It’s ironic because he’s never felt so broken.

This Could Be A Disaster | Harry x Ron, 8k, Explicit

Harry and his friends come up with some fun things to do at Hogwarts like streaking around the Quidditch Pitch, shagging in a classroom, or skinny dipping in the lake... too bad the only person he wants to do it with is Ron.

No matter what could have happened before, something about Ron taking his hand devoured Harry with love. Maybe it was just friend love, but it still consumed his soul and cemented the beauty of Ron Weasley into his heart.

I WANNA SEE SOME ARSE | Nottpott, 10k, Explicit

Theo is stuck sharing a bed with Potter and Potter’s beautiful, plump, delicious arse. Too bad they're both oblivious to the other’s flirting.

And if he sits on the bed, it's just the right angle to see Potter’s arse, already decorated with beautiful tan lines from his swim trunks and all soaped up. His skin is a lovely umber, but his arse is a few shades lighter, like a glowing beacon that Theo cannot look away from.

‘tis the damn season (Pansy’s Version) | Pansy x Ron, 8k, Teen

Pansy returns to London to find Ron Weasley owns a wish-granting coffee shop and, in cheesy Hallmark Movie fashion, he makes sparks fly.

Pansy stared up at Ron, her heart beating in her throat. She’d never felt so seen by someone, and all they were doing was just chatting.

Lift You Again | Jilly, 2k, GA

Lily and James have to go get another Christmas Tree for the Great Hall after accidentally burning down the first one.

She did her best not to think about how her heartbeat ignited at his touch or how wonderful he smelled, like stolen whisky cider and something distinctly James that always hung around the dorms.

Remember Me As Tradition | Dramione, side Nottpott, 3k, GA

Malfoy Christmas Eve through the years, covering the tragedy of loss, the beautiful growth of friendships and love, and how a tradition is made.

“Next year,” he promised, tugging her close so he could properly thank her with a kiss that had been on his lips for a decade.

Helping Hands™ | Hermione x George, 2k, GA

Hermione helps George with a new product.

When he looked up, he found a bushel of mistletoe with a glittery red bow floating above them.

“Oh,” Hermione gasped, looking too. “Well, that is romantic.”

#hp fanfiction #hp rare pairs #drarry #dramione #jegulus #nottpott #drinny #ronspy #panville #jilly

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scribbling-dragon · 2 years

Text

Adaptive Nature Masterpost

This fic is complete! Started on 07/07/22 and completed on 14/02/23 - I hope you enjoy/enjoyed it!

(AO3 Link)

(total word count: 115,941)

Chapter 1

Summary:

It’s mesmerising, following the fluid lines of the sculpture from the neck to the tail, each detail so delicately carved and shaped it’s impossible to imagine that it’s been carved from stone.

He’s reached a hand out before he knows it, stroking one finger carefully along the raised spines of the dragon, along its back. It’s warm beneath his hand, despite all the stone around him being cold. It’s definitely some kind of stone though, maybe a refined obsidian of some kind? It seems to swallow the light around it completely.

His finger is warm where he is touching the statue.

---

Or, the mesa changes, and Jimmy changes with it

Chapter 2

Summary:

The stretch of sand ends about a hundred feet in front of them, stretching up in a sheer wall of rock and clay, blocking them off completely. There’s no exit, he’s just ended up in a larger version of the fishbowl. He continues to guide Arrow forward, towards the place he had felt pulled towards, breaking into a slow trot when it seems to be taking too long.

There’s something in the sand. Half-buried, just a corner of a massive structure sticking out.

Chapter 3

Summary:

“Yeah.” He nods, “Yeah, you still owe me a story, after all.”

“I do?” Pixl pauses in splitting the orange, directly down the centre, to look at him.

“The stag brothers.”

Pixl hands him his half of the orange with a sigh, disturbing the small lantern and causing the flame inside to flicker with the movement. “I told you that’s not my speciality.”

Chapter 4

Summary:

Pixl is at the settlement when he stumbles out of his tent the next morning, squinting and holding a hand up to block the sun out. He stands just beyond the group of tents, on the outskirts of the settlement. Pixl looks up as he emerges, raising a hand and waving it, just slightly.

He makes his way over, trying to ignore the pulsing pain in his head. He really needs to start drinking more water, apparently. The sun isn't helping either, in its state of fiery abomination hanging low in the sky. It’s just low enough to be shining in his eyes at all times, no matter where he looks.

Chapter 5

Summary:

“What was it in that cave?” He asks, directing Arrow between two tents and towards the shelter they've been staying under. “I've never seen anything like…that before.”

“I…” Pixl trails off, “I don't know?” He sounds worried, and that worries him, his heart beating a little harder as he dismounts. The shocks travel up his legs a little more harshly than before, knocking around inside his bones. It’s an unpleasant feeling, and he has to shake his legs out to get rid of it completely. “I have an idea of what it might be,” Pixl continues, slipping off of Bullseye more than dismounting and taking a moment to find his balance again, “But I'm probably going to consult anyone before anything- I told you about him? The friend on the exploration team?”

Chapter 6

Summary:

“Pixl!” Someone yells, shattering the peace of the library into several fragments. Some of the people hunched over desks near them glance upwards with a glare for him, eyes narrowing at him. He smiles apologetically, but it’s a lot more strained than he would have hoped and they continue to glare at him anyway.

“Over here,” Pixl nudges him as he walks past, and he follows, eyes trailing over the books, reading the small signs at the end of each row as they walk past them. Age of Gods I, Age of Gods II, Age of Corruption I, Age of Corruption II and Age of Corruption III. They pass a few on the Age of Empires, going up to at least XX, which…is a lot more than he would have expected from a civilization of over a thousand years ago.

There’s a man sat at a desk waiting for them, books and scrolls scattered across the table until he can hardly see the wood below. He perks up when he sees them, grinning a little more, tail flicking behind him as he leans forward. “Pixl!”

Chapter 7

Summary:

“This one too!” Tango yells, dropping a book down towards him from where he’s hanging off the shelves, climbing halfway up them to reach the ones he wants rather than using the ladder less than a few feet away.

It’s amusing to watch anyway, and probably the reason Tango chose him for this little adventure rather than Pixl. He jumps as Tango lands beside him, springing back up and hardly making a sound as he looks over the books he’s holding.

“This is why I brought you along,” Tango pats him on the arm, hand lingering for a moment as he continues to look at the books, “Pixl would be complaining the whole time, ‘oh Tango’,” he puts on a really bad impression of Pixl, “‘My arms hurt Tango, why couldn't you have brought that really strong Sheriff with you instead?’”

Chapter 8

Pixl doesn't say anything, mouth set in a firm line as he obviously disapproves of his decision. But he doesn't say anything, and he takes the victory, leaning back and releasing his hold on the chair, turning away. Pixl doesn't protest, but he doesn't need to in the end as Tango grabs his wrist, preventing him from walking away.

His hand is warm, positively radiating heat, and it does more to stop him than the admittedly loose grip around his wrist does. Tango’s barely holding him in place but he stops anyway, turning to face Tango. “Just stay the night, yeah?” Tango smiles at him, “It’ll save us all a bit of worry.” His eyes are almost pleading, shining in the flickering light of the dining hall. He can almost ignore how empty and ominous it is around them if Tango looks at him like that.

Chapter 9

“Of course I've got a med kit, Pix.” Tango rolls his eyes, shooting him a look, “Honestly, you forget it one time and suddenly you're the most irresponsible person out there.”

“One of the interns cried.” Pixl adds, running a hand down the bannister as they descend the steps. He feels his legs click with each step down, knees popping uncomfortably until they're back on level ground again. “And you had to go to the infirmary for several days.”

“So I paid for my mistakes,” Tango waves Pixl off, “I came out of it better though! And it’s not like I suffered any long-lasting effects from it.” He grins, tail flicking back and forth, and a lot more cheery than he would have expected anyone to be when talking about apparent near-death experiences.

Chapter 10

“It’s getting dark,” he says, deciding to break the tension that’s steadily growing between the two before they start fighting or something stupid like that, “I'm sure we can accommodate two more people for the night, especially now that I have a house. Apparently.”

He watches as Tango looks over at Pixl, narrowing his eyes at the other’s turned back before mounting Bullseye in one fluid movement. “You haven't got a bed,” Tango responds, watching with narrowed eyes as he mounts Arrow, ear flicking back as he adjusts his seat in the saddle. “And,” Tango’s eyes slide towards Pixl, “I'm sure there’s some things we need to be doing at the guild, right?” His voice is just a little too pointed for it to be anything but a request, watching Pixl carefully.

“I think we can stay the night in Tumble Town,” Pixl responds, and it feels like they're not actually talking to him as Pixl’s voice turns equally pointed, mounting Mist much more successfully than earlier, before turning to look at Tango a moment later.

Chapter 11

He sees the letters, perched on the very edge of his makeshift desk, and almost immediately wishes he hadn't. He turns away from them pointedly, staring at the other side of the room and willing himself to forget about them.

It doesn't work, obviously, and the thought of the letters lingers at the edge of his mind, nudging at him until he turns his head, glaring at where they balance, atop the pile of various other pieces of paperwork. He’s not sure which he hates more.

Chapter 12

“It’s ridiculous.” He doesn't care about the way his voice rises, nor about the way his chair screeches as he pushes it back. He ignores the eyes that turn towards them, glaring at him with the accusation of disturbing the peace within the library.

Chapter 13

Dawn is brighter than he expected. Which maybe shouldn't be something he had expected seeing as the place is called Dawn. The bright yellows, oranges and hints of pink were probably something he should have expected, or at least considered.

Chapter 14

"So," Tango starts, and he's shuffling in his seat, making the rickety wood groan as they look at each other from across the table, "Maybe we didn't explain everything particularly well last time. And!" Tango raises his voice before he can even consider laughing at the understatement. "I reconsidered and prepared. So I came with a few notes."

Chapter 15

The first thing he registers when he wakes is that his legs are still numb and that they ache in ways he didn't realise they could ache.

The second is that he can hear someone breathing.

The third is that something incredibly warm is wrapped around him, swaddling him in its all-encompassing warmth.

The fourth, and final, thing he notices is that Tango is the one breathing in his ear, and that Tango is also the one currently wrapped around him like a limpet. And also, his legs still ache, thrumming with numbness that warns of the incoming pain of pins and needles.

Chapter 16

“Come now, I'm not about to attack you two. It’d be bad for business.” He shakes his head again. “Can you even imagine the scandal? Ruler of Chromia gets into a scrap with two important figures from other empires in his own bar. It’d be disgraceful.”

“Wouldn't be the first time you've had a fight here.”

“No.” Scott levels Tango with a stare. “But you and I both know those ones deserved it.”

Chapter 17

When they arrive back in Tumble Town, there is someone waiting for them. Pixl stands beside the stables, arms crossed and foot tapping against the ground as he watches them approach. He looks every bit the image of a disappointed parent watching a child return home after missing curfew.

“You were meant to return yesterday,” Pixl says, arms still folded across his chest. “I understood that you might have been delayed and remained elsewhere overnight, but I expected you back by midday today at the latest.”

“I understand,” Tango dismounts. “But we got caught up elsewhere-”

“In Chromia.” Pixl says. “I know.”

Chapter 18

Pixl leaves in the morning. Alone.

It is a pale morning, bordering on cold for the mesa. There is a wind ruffling the sands and sending the individual grains bouncing. These grains batter his legs and the sides of the houses as he and Tango stand, together, and watch Pixl leave.

Pixl guides his horse upwards and out of the fishbowl. The sound of the horse’s hooves echoes around, loud in the silence. Alyssa stands across the street from him, watching Pixl’s retreat too. Pixl pauses at the top, turning back to face them before waving. He waves back jerkily, swallowing down the anxiety that threatens to crawl up his throat. Alyssa looks at him, then, away from Pixl. She stares for a moment, before smiling, and turning to retreat back inside.

Chapter 19

“There is one place.” Tango says, tugging on his reins a little. His horse takes a step backwards, a little closer to him and Arrow. “Granted, we may be greeted with hostility, but it will be hostility of the usual kind rather than a supernatural variety.”

“Mysterious is not a good look on you.”

“I'm hardly being mysterious, though the person we’re going to meet is rather shrouded in mystery.” Tango nudges his horse around, until they're facing a little further north than before. If they continue going in this direction, in a mostly straight line with a little adjustment for any obstacles that may appear in their way then…

“Oh.” He’s a little surprised by Tango’s decision, hurrying to follow as Tango breaks into a gentle trot. It’s far more relaxed than their previous mad dash across the darkened land, set on simply getting as far away from the mesa as quickly as they could. The sun continues to rise, beginning to bathe the land in a warmth that will take several hours longer to actually begin settling in the air. “He would not have been my first choice.”

Chapter 20

"Right, full offense, but that is the worst, possibly the most horrendous, plan I've ever had the misfortune of bearing witness to." Scott snorts a laugh, tipping back slightly in his chair. It wobbles, balancing in the thin line of slamming forward or slamming backwards. He's not sure who he needs to pay to see the latter, but there's some part of him that would love to see Scott flat on his back.

Tango is eyeing him like he's about to shove the chair over, Scott and all, so maybe that's who he should pay to see that come to life.

"Do you have a better idea then?" He asks. Scott frowns at him, chair legs thumping against the ground as he lowers it back down, all four legs firmly on the floor once more. Unfortunate. He was beginning to debate the merits of pushing it over himself. "We're open to suggestions."

Chapter 21

And as all sparks burst into flame, so too must they die out.

#juno.writes #masterpost #adaptive nature fic #empires smp #empires jimmy #empires s2 #solidaritek #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #empiressmp #dlshipping

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