#I’m not a gun person and avoid those engravings

[bundlebrent]

This guy came into the shop today and paid us $65 +tax to engrave the logo of a crypto company on his limited edition gun

[littlestarofthewest]

Valentine drabble request you say? Well, if you're up for it, could I maybe request something Morbell related (if you even write that)? Maybe a flustered Micah trying to find a good gift for Arthur? Thank you!

I've never written Morbell before but I gave it a shot. Hope you like 😆

Guns make for good Flowers

Pairing: Arthur x Micah | Words: 2260 | SFW

Micah lifts up the bottles in the box one after the other, trying to find a full one. It's hard to get smashed if you don't have the booze. Behind him, Pearson talks to Strauss, saying something about when to give his present to Susan. Micah wonders what the occasion for a gift would be, but then he finds two full bottles and forgets all about it.

At least until two days later. Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen are talking about gifts as well. Micah hangs around, curious after all, and finally catches on. Valentine's day. It seems that everybody gives somebody else a gift. 

Micah shrugs it off. He most certainly has better things to do with his time and money than gift shopping. Besides, he knows for sure that nobody would give him anything, so why would he bother?

Despite his disinterest in the whole ordeal, it keeps coming up. Abigail has something for Jack, of course, and Jack wants to give something to Sadie to cheer her up. Sean's got a present for Karen, Charles is making something for Tilly, and so on. 

Every day, Micah hears something new, caring about it or not. Even lazy Uncle gets involved, and two days before Valentine's day, John, of all people, found a great gift for Abigail. 

Micah's about to give him shit for it when all the conversations of the last days wander through his mind. Mary-Beth insists on giving a present to the O'Driscoll boy, Molly and Dutch give each other gifts, and Susan takes care of Hosea, but there's one name Micah hasn't heard at all. Arthur.

For the rest of the day, Micah keeps snooping around. This time, he actually tries to find out who will give something to whom, and by evening his first assessment still stands. Nobody thought about Arthur.

While most of the gang already sits by the fire, Arthur comes in late after a job. He hands Pearson two rabbits he must have shot on the way and puts some money in the collection box before he passes out on his cot, not even caring to take his boots off.

The sight gnaws at Micah, and the happy chatter of the others annoys him even more. He wishes he could laugh about Arthur being left out, but somehow it doesn't sit right with him. 

Micah can certainly live without an ugly Valentine's card, but ever since he joined the gang, he's never seen Arthur rest longer than needed. It's a shame that the gang members forgot all about their little workhorse.

After emptying his bottle, Micah gets up to find a place for the night. He doesn't need much sleep, but shutting his eyes for a moment can't hurt. On his way, he avoids the singing Reverend, and Uncle who's asking around for money. That's how he ends up hiding behind a wagon, Arthur's wagon. 

Micah sits down and leans against it, enjoying the irony. He can hear Arthur's quiet snores, knowing that this man is in for a surprise soon. If Arthur's lucky, he'll be out of the camp on Valentine's day. Maybe that's what people are counting on.

----------

"You want some company, mister?"

Micah turns to the girl approaching him. She's fairly pretty, and probably older and therefore more experienced than she looks. All in all, she would be a nice thing to spend his money on, but ever since yesterday, Micah's thoughts drift when he's not careful. 

Instead of taking a closer look at the girl's ample bosom, Micah thinks about Arthur, and the money in his pocket feels heavy as if it wants to stay in there. "Not today, sweetheart."

Micah downs his drink and walks outside, looking along the street. On the other side, the general store's doorbell is ringing when a customer leaves, and Micah is drawn to it like the moth to a flame.

It's empty inside except for the store owner, who greets him with great enthusiasm. Micah ignores him to take a look around, his eyes falling on some journals and pencils, but he knows Arthur has enough of those. 

Walking along a shelf with booze, Micah stops, horrified. He asks himself what Arthur might like, and it dawns on him that he's looking for a gift for Arthur. He didn't mean to do it, but the thought of Arthur not getting a present seems so wrong.

It's probably just him thinking ahead. Micah might act as a simple bully, but he has ways to make people lean his way. If everybody but Micah has forgotten Arthur, then they might be grateful that he thought of him.

Booze doesn't seem enough, though. Micah checks out the products for horses, knowing how fond Arthur is of his horrible black monster, but again, it's something Arthur could get himself. Even a watch doesn't come close to an appropriate gift.

With an annoyed grunt, Micah leaves the store, looking along the main street again. There's a tailor, but Micah can't be sure about Arthur's size. He could invite him to a drink at the saloon, but Micah doubts that Arthur would agree to it. 

Taking a deep breath, Micah looks up at the burning sun, hoping for inspiration, when something hits his eye from the side. A reflection. Turning to it, Micah watches a guy who puts a shiny new rifle onto his horse, and Micah's eyes fall on the building behind the man. It's a gun store.

An idea pops up in Micah's head, and he crosses the street with a smile on his face.

---------

The whole day, the camp is busy like a beehive. People hurry back and forth, giving away their presents, and soon, everybody walks around with something new. A lovely shawl around a girl's shoulders or a new necklace or braclet - made, bought, or probably stolen -, bottles of booze, books, a new shirt, or even boots. 

The only person not in the midst of all that is Arthur. He's sitting on his cot, writing in that stupid journal of his. Micah keeps a look on him for a while, but nobody's approaching him, and Arthur doesn't seem to be giving away a gift of his own. 

Micah is tempted to keep what he bought to himself, but the longer he looks at Arthur, the more curious he gets about what his reaction would be to the present. Even if he tells Micah to piss off, Micah wants to know. He wants to hear it from Arthur.

When the rest of the gang seems busy enough, Micah walks over to Arthur, the gift hidden under his coat. He gets in position, ready to greet Arthur, but Arthur already slaps the journal shut and looks up to him.

"What do you want, Micah?"

"Oh, I could think about a few things I'd desire," Micah says, determined to stand his ground. "The question is what you want."

"Peace and quiet," Arthur grunts, and Micah is about to tease him about Valentine's day when he takes a look at Arthur's table. 

Yesterday, it was empty except for a photograph and the stupid little glass flower. Now there are arrows, cigarettes and a cigar, sweets, hunting and fishing materials, and other small trinkets. 

Micah can feel his heart sink. He's been so focused on thinking that nobody would give Arthur a present that he didn't consider the obvious alternative. It looks like everybody gave Arthur a gift. 

Arthur follows Micah's gaze and rubs his neck as he looks up to him. "Look, Micah-"

"I've got something for you," Micah interrupts him, forcing himself to say it before he can chicken out.

"What?"

Micah gets the box out from under his coat and pushes it at Arthur, who looks like it's stuffed with dynamite and might explode in his hands. He still opens it, and his mouth falls open.

There's a chance Micah might have overdone it a little, but he didn't want to look cheap. The revolver he bought has a unique grip, and the letters A and M are carved in next to a coyote. Micah's not even sure why. He just liked the look of it, and in a weak moment, he entertained the idea that the M might not stand for Morgan.

"Remember the holster I gave you?" Micah asks, feeling the need to explain himself. "Didn't make much sense without a gun."

Arthur still looks like he's in a trance, running his fingertips over the weapon. "You're giving me this? Why?"

If Micah only knew. He's still not sure what devil rode him the last few days. "I'm actually a pretty nice guy, cowpoke."

"Yeah, right," Arthur huffs, but he takes the weapon out of the box, squinting at the engraving.

Micah feels heat rushing up his neck and to his ears, afraid that Arthur might catch on to the double meaning of the letters.

"So, don't shoot anything I wouldn't," he says before walking away.

"Micah!" Arthur shouts behind him, and when Micah turns around, he sees that Arthur has gotten to his feet. "Thank you."

Arthur's voice is quiet, barely audible over the camp's noises, but the words still ring in Micah's ears. He can't remember the last time Arthur has spoken to him in a friendly manner, and he definitely never thanked him. Micah tips his hat, unable to speak, and he decides to get out of there.

He heads for the main campfire, but then he takes a detour, passing behind one of the wagons and heading into the woods. He finds a quiet spot and pulls out one of his own guns. It looks a little worn compared to the new one Micah gave Arthur.

With a sigh, he puts it back in his holster, ready to get himself something to drink and pass out somewhere, when a figure steps out of the trees next to him. Micah's about ready to draw and shoot, but it's only Arthur.

"You following me, cowpoke?"

Arthur doesn't say anything, his hand hovering over his holster. Micah's heart beats faster, but it makes no sense that Arthur would pick today of all days to shoot him.

With a swift movement, Arthur draws his gun, but he points it at a nearby tree instead of Micah. "That's a fine weapon, not cheap. Why would you give me that?"

"What would you want me to give you? Flowers?"

Arthur comes closer, the weapon still in his hand. Micah figures that he probably shouldn't mouth off to him, but he can't help himself.

"Why would you give me anything at all?" Arthur asks.

"These degenerates out there have been talking about giving each other gifts all damn week, but nobody ever mentioned your name. Just didn't seem right."

Arthur huffs a laugh. "So you decided to be my Valentine?"

"Shut up, Morgan, or I'll-"

"You what?" Arthur interrupts him. He's not raising the gun, but Micah knows full well he's playing with his life, so he stays quiet.

Arthur swirls the gun around and slips it back into its holster before stepping even closer. "I've got something for you, too."

Micah looks Arthur up and down, waiting for a knife to appear, but instead, Arthur grabs him by the throat. Adrenaline rushes through Micah's body, but Arthur's fingers only rest there, not choking him. Micah swallows a few times, knowing that Arthur can feel it. He wishes he could draw his weapon or fight back in any way, but he's too curious about what Arthur might do. 

For now, Arthur's holding Micah's gaze with those piercing blue eyes, then he runs his fingers along Micah's neck, down to the first button of his shirt that he actually cared to close. Arthur fists his fingers into the fabric and pulls Micah close. They're only inches apart, breathing the same air.

Micah's still waiting for something terrible to happen, a trick, or Arthur at least insulting him. Instead, Arthur puts his other hand on Micah's neck, his fingers digging into his hair. He draws Micah closer, so slowly that it borders on torture. Micah's heart is about to leap out of his chest, but then it just seems to give out when Arthur kisses him.

It's not nice and soft, but harsh and with force. Arthur kisses him as if he needs to punish Micah, but Micah can't say that he minds. He grabs Arthur's arm, feeling how his muscles strain, unwilling to let him go. Not that Micah wants to escape. 

He lets Arthur in, getting a good taste of him when their tongues rub against each other. Arthur barely gives him a chance to breathe, and when he finally lets go, Micah feels like he could pass out any second.

Arthur leans in, his lips touching Micah's ear as he whispers to him. "Tell anybody about this, and I'll make good use of that new gun."

Micah's still too overwhelmed to answer, only able to look after Arthur as he disappears into the trees. Taking in a deep breath, Micah leans back against the tree behind him. From all the possible outcomes, Arthur picked the one Micah didn't see coming in a million years.

With a sigh, he walks back to camp, longing more than ever for a drink. When he settles down by the fire with a bottle, he finds Arthur already sitting there. They share a look, and one thing becomes clear to Micah. He's prepared to give Arthur the whole damn gun store if he can get another kiss like that. 

[captainsimagines]

Titanic || H.S

Part Four || “April 10, 1912″

“I’m the king of the world!”

Warnings: This book contains mature themes and discussions, such as gun violence, emotional and physical abuse, attempted suicide, mentions of blood, character deaths, heavy sexual content, and reference to the real maritime disaster of the 1912 cruise liner Titanic.

     Bells were ringing for miles as crowds formed both before and at the ports, the buzzing of excitement and utter joy radiating through the doors of your overly-crowded automobile. Cheers from all the awaiting passengers contradicted your current mental state. For you, it was just another ship - simply new. You had stayed in overpriced rooms before, eaten at countless never-ending buffets, been given towels with a special “scent” which simply had a hint of cheap perfume, and even eaten from plates and utensils engraved with real gold. So the size of this ship, the luxury it supposedly had, or the brilliance of its story, did not do much to excite you. 

     You rolled a piece of thread in between your fingers and looked out your car window at the street. You could feel their shouts vibrating from the street below you, adding an extra rhythm to the automobile that seemed humanly impossible. You watched people dance and drink, and it took you only a moment to realize that these people weren’t even going to travel with you. They were simply here to enjoy the momentous atmosphere, watch history in the making, and say goodbye to their loved ones. 

     With your mother and Cal in deep conversation and George focusing on the outside world as well, you actually allowed yourself to smile. Perhaps this was a good thing - to travel back home and see just how much had changed. You admit, the political and social world was most likely unchanged and that London was much more lenient to who joined certain higher-ranked circles, but America must have some good qualities they adopted over the years. New inventions, food, culture and religion, play-writing - anything that you had an interest in you tried to think of as brightly American. You removed your hat to comb your hand through your thick hair and to wipe the excess sweat building on your hairline, the summer air becoming a little too musty for your liking.  Your smile remained bright as you reached the long lines of actual passengers, both second and third class, going through their health inspections and bag checks. Lots of them would stop and stare at the first class carriages and automobiles that passed them quickly, some annoyed and some fascinated. It never bothered you when the lower class mocked you or spoke ill of the current political and economic systems, as you whole-heartedly agreed with them. If your late father taught you one thing it was that the system was deeply flawed and would remain that way as long as those in power who have never experienced injustice in their lives were allowed to live believing in business as usual. And yet, the total irony of you marrying into one of the wealthiest and greediest capitalist families in Europe was forever going to feel like a knife twisting into your back. 

     Just as your car passed the last round of third class health inspections, you leaned further toward the window to get a better view of the group of children laughing and pushing each other side to side. You grinned widely as you passed them, but your face fell almost instantly as you noticed the look of disgust from an older man. In the short seconds of that encounter, he had looked through your veil of upper-class protection and judged the color of your glowing skin, something that most people in your social circle in London chose to ignore. With your father’s influence and money, this issue was never even labeled as such, but to someone in another world, you were likely worth less than the piece of paper granting you passage on board. 

    You swallowed hard and leaned back against the red velvet seat, pulling your hat right back on to avoid the stares of the real world. 

     Over on the other side of the docks, just a mere distance from all the packed commotion, Harry held onto his sister’s hands as she said her goodbyes. 

     “Don’t you go spending all that money on art and women, you hear?” 

     Harry gasped and faked a gag, smiling down at his sister. “How rude of you to even think of me spending money on art I can simply draw myself and women I can woo with no fee.”

     Both his sister and mother leaned in for a giant shared hug, each one already imagining the next time they would see each other. 

     “It’s only a few months. You’ll be in the states with me before you know it,” Harry snuggled closer to his mother as she hugged him tighter. 

     “I know, but it’s the first time you’re leaving home on your own and…” she choked on a gasp, barely holding it together. The amount of prayers she recited last night didn’t seem efficient and she made a mental note to say double the moment she returned home. 

     “I’ll be okay. I’ll write as soon as I’m settled.”

     “Just be careful, okay? I hear they’re not as kind as we are here across the Atlantic,” his sister laughed, giving him one final, tight side squeeze and handing him his carry-on bags. 

     “You know, I heard that, too,” Harry joked. 

     “Be careful, we’re not joking,” his mother said, grabbing his chin gently and turning his face toward hers. “We’re not joking. Be safe.”

     Harry leaned down and kissed his mother’s forehead, rubbing her back up and down rapidly as if that somehow kept his own tears at bay. But he grinned brightly and placed another kiss on his mother’s forehead and on his sister’s, and reached down to pick up his two carry-ons and his father’s briefcase. 

     “I promise. I love you both. The stars will tell you where I am and who I’m with.”

     His sister was the first to let him go, “Alright, my little scientist! Get going and make us some money!”

     Harry laughed loudly, patiently waiting for his mother to release her grip. “Not a scientist, but an amateur astronomer!”

     His mother sniffed into her elbow and quickly rubbed her cheek, looking away momentarily before she collected herself and gave Harry her best broken but proud smile. 

     “Love you.”

     Harry nodded with deep understanding, leaned in for one final goodbye kiss, and crossed into the massive crowd. He looked over his shoulder and yelled out for both of them. 

     “I promise to make my girls proud!”

          It looked like every other ship you had ever been on, minus the shiny new floors and number of installed elevators. It almost angered you how disappointed your own disappointment made you, like nothing ever made you feel truly elated, truly surprised, truly ecstatic. But as you ignored the looks of other passengers and the excessive whining from your own mother, you started to see the little details other passengers were sure going to miss. Like the delicate stitching in all servant uniforms, the woodwork on the massive clock leading into the dining area, and the use of electricity in even the thinnest corners of each room. 

     Even the servants knew better than to comment on your true royal status with Cal beside you, who was in fact failing to find even one flaw on the ship. You quite admired that actually - something you could fully agree on. 

     “This is so gorgeous,” Cal whispered beside you, your arm intertwined with his. You nodded in agreement, absentmindedly keeping the same pace as him. It took a few more minutes to finally make it to your living quarters - three separate rooms, each with their own living rooms and bathrooms. You thought it too much for yourself and wondered why your mother didn’t request adjoining rooms between you and her. 

     Without even entering your room first, your mother ventured into her own and started ordering her maids and servants around. You breathed in deeply, ready to see your living situation but were gently pulled back to let Cal walk through the door first. You stopped momentarily, puckering your lips in slight annoyance but followed behind him nonetheless. 

     “Even more beautiful than the hallway!” Cal laughed after his joyous exclamation, falling lazily on the first couch he saw. You couldn’t help but giggle at his childishness, watching him with a tiny grin as he reached over to play with the fresh flowers and their heavy vase. 

     “Perhaps the open sea breeze makes a person absolutely giddy because I have never seen you smile this much from inanimate objects,” you said, placing your handbag on the circular table and removing your gloves. 

     Cal rolled his eyes playfully and jumped up from his laying position to run to the brunch table full of sweets and bread, a first-class greeting for Titanic’s most distinguished guests. He popped the first sweet he saw into his mouth, closing his eyes and savoring the flavor. He groaned softly and waved you over, already picking up the second serving to give to you. You walked slowly, eyebrows furrowed due to his laid back nature, but decided to give in and lean your head forward, mouth open to be fed. He placed the sweet on your tongue and awaited your reaction as you chewed, grinning widely once your eyebrows raised in amazement. 

     “I am never wrong!” Cal laughed, picking up some bread instead, and offering you a piece. But before you could reach over and grab it, Cal threw it in his own mouth and ate it. You gasped playfully, mouth wide open and genuine laugh escaping from it. Cal smiled wide enough to crinkle his eyes, and he reached over to wrap you in a backwards hug, with your back pressed against his chest and his head in between your neck and shoulder. You howled with true happiness, your sounds becoming louder as he proceeded to step with you all over the room and tickling your side at the same time. With enough strength you pushed him away and ran to the outside deck with Cal hot on your trail. He ran after you, dodging the servants with luggage in their arms and their questions of where to put them, following you out on deck and gripping your wrist in time to twirl you around beautifully. This time you ended up face-to-face, gripping onto each other and chests still racking with laughs. 

     The crinkles on both sides of his eyes remained, and you felt your heart stir for him. He was always so rigid but in this moment he was carefree and young, absent from duties and absent from the raunchy world he was so accustomed to. Here you saw a side of him that you could definitely get used to. But that’s just what it was - a side, not all of him. Before you could assume more of the negatives of this situation, Cal leaned down and captured his lips with yours. His lips were smooth and experienced, moving slowly against your timid ones. And just how quickly the kiss came, it disappeared. The minor moment of intimacy was too little for your liking, but it still counted as the first time you weren’t disgusted by Cal’s attitude or personality. It confused you how swiftly your mind changed and concocted the perfect fantasy of Cal and your upcoming marriage. Like a spell’s flame ignited and burned your whole internal wall down. 

     Before either of you could comment, you were interrupted by a servant who began rapidly excusing himself. He exited the deck and left you there, still in Cal’s arms. You wanted to speak but Cal simply smiled, kissed your forehead, and let you go. 

     “We must finish unpacking and decorating if we want to be front row during the Captain’s welcome speech.”

     And with that, Cal stepped back into your living room and began helping the servants put up the paintings he had dismissed you on earlier. You stood there perplexed and could only muster up enough energy to lean over the railing and watch the waves hit the side of the ship and the docks you still hadn’t departed. 

     Apologies sprung from Harry’s mouth as quickly as he ran, pillowcase full of clothes over one shoulder and his father’s briefcase with all the family’s important documents and the freshly printed photographs in the other. He bumped into dozens of shoulders but even as he yelled his apologies, he didn’t look back. He was finally leaving for the promised land of opportunity, a place where he and his family could establish themselves and their business. New flavors introduced to the Americans would for sure boost business, and Harry was so excited to be the first of his family to step foot outside of London. Just being at the docks was the farthest his family had traveled. 

     The ship was vast in length, somehow seeming larger as Harry ran toward the third-class boarding area. He could see the crew was beginning to clean up, unhitching the ropes from the dock and removing the boarding stairs. His feet were already burning, but he sprinted as fast as he could, yelling at them to wait for his arrival. People stared at him, throwing themselves out of the way as he crashed into shoulders and knocked bags off horses. The background check and health inspection lasted longer than he had expected, all of the poking and prodding seeming more purposeful than necessary.  

     One particular horse came close to knocking Harry off his feet, and his belongings scattered over the dock floor. Harry cursed under his breath and quickly gathered his bags back into his arms, looking up every so often to check if the ship had departed without him. 

     “I got this for you, man.”

     Harry searched the floor for his important briefcase and but instead saw it held out for him to take. Harry thanked the man for his help, and before he could say anything else, the man spoke up cheerfully. 

     “Come on, we got a ship to catch!”

     Harry beamed at his new acquaintance and sped down the docks beside him. With two of them side by side, almost everyone jumped out of their way as if it was instinct. They continued to laugh at each other with each short tumble the other took, enjoying the quick pace at which they were traveling. 

      They both stumbled onto the attached railing that was being pulled away from the main entrance of the ship. The officers asked for their tickets almost immediately and Harry rolled his eyes. 

     “We’re passengers, here.”

      Both Harry and his running mate handed over their tickets for quick inspection. 

      “Have you been through all inspections?”

      The man behind him held up his bags in complete annoyance, “Why do you think we’re late?”

      The officers just nodded, letting both of them through the door. Together they hopped onto the ship and dashed down every corridor, following the signs for third-class passengers. 

   “I swear I didn’t think we’d make it!” Harry shouted, still muttering tiny apologies to those he shoved as he passed. 

     “Luck seems to be following me around lately,” the man laughed, following Harry down the flight of stairs. 

     “What room are you staying in?”

     “B60.”

     “You’re joking.”

     The two stopped to compare tickets, scoffing in astonishment. 

     “Hello, roommate!” the man smiled. “Name’s Drake.”

     Harry put one of his bags down on the floor and pushed his briefcase under his left armpit to extend his right arm out for a handshake. “Harry.”

     “You stopping in Ireland or New York?”

     “Going all the way to New York City,” Harry beamed, and he picked up his bag again and started for their shared room. 

     “Awesome, same. I’m actually from Montana but since New York will be the only stop in the states, I figured I would just hitchhike my way home.”

     “I thought I heard an American accent,” Harry chuckled. He rounded the corner and came face-to-face with the room number they were assigned. He opened the door and peeked his head through to make sure everything was decent for the door to be held wide open. Once the coast was clear, Harry opened the door widely and threw his heavy luggage onto the bottom bunk in the far corner. 

     “Oh, awesome. I get top bunk,” Drake cheered, also hauling his bags onto the bed. Harry ducked into his bunk as Drake jumped up onto his, the two settling in quite easily compared to the unorganized chaos outside their room. 

     The small room was designed to offer the least comfort possible, but it was still better than most of the rundown apartments in the middle of London. The walls were white, with the ship's pipes extending across the ceiling and down the side of the adjoining walls. Two brown blankets were folded on top of each bunk, and a pillow with minimal fluff was tightly tucked underneath the bedspread. The room offered one sink and three bars of wrapped soap, toilet paper, and an unlit lantern that would be useful for late night trips to the washrooms. Even with such limited offerings, it was way more than Harry expected. 

     “How many other people are joining us in our room?” Harry asked while grabbing the two blankets from the end of his bed for a quick nap. 

     “Two other men, I believe. Pretty sure that’s what the two empty beds across the room are for.”

     “Oh. Oops.”

     Harry laughed at himself and snuggled deeper into his blankets, letting out a deep and relaxed sigh. 

     Drake leaned over the side of his bed to look down at Harry, a confused grin on his face. “You’re seriously going to take a nap and not explore the ship?”

      Harry winked one eye open and turned his head slightly upward. “After this nap.”

     Drake pondered for a moment, but he silently agreed, and became victim himself to the comfort of cotton blankets and a hard mattress. 

      The Captain spoke so eloquently, so loud and coherent, that his welcome was felt by everyone in the crowded first-class lounge area. He was met with praises and generous words as he greeted the crowd and his crew, tipping his head slightly as if to nod and remain mostly nonverbal. 

     Cal, of course, wanted to put his name into the Captain’s hat, so he pulled you along absentmindedly until you were in front of the Captain himself. As Cal droned on, you noticed how the Captain was practically trained for this, the tipping of his head and low grunts of amused agreement speaking for themselves. He was an elder man, around his mid-sixties it seemed, with pearl white hair neatly combed over toward the left side of his head, and a thick beard that matched his serious look. 

     As Cal began mentioning the architecture of the ship and asking the Captain’s crew just how fast the ship was able to go, the Captain turned toward you and held his hand out. He gave you a warm smile, introduced himself and proceeded to place a delicate peck on your gloved hand. You smiled back but had to contain the chuckle scratching its way up your throat as you caught a glimpse of Cal’s look of bewilderment. 

     “You must be the beautiful child of the famed American-Indian Lieutenant. The King of all Aztec riches and oil,” the Captain praised. 

     You nodded, “His one and only child, yes.”

     The Captain’s smile grew impossibly bigger. 

     You continued, “My father’s legacy branches farther than the oil industry. I am proud to say he was funding countless important causes.”

      The Captain beamed, “I have heard! Civil rights, the fight for free land, uh… what am I missing?”

      “Equal rights for women.”

     The Captain chuckled, “He was quite determined, I may say. Ridiculous, but determined.”

     Before you could say anything else, Cal sweeped in to take the same hand the Captain had kissed earlier. 

     “Yes, my fiance’s bloodline sure loved to mix the order of things. When we settle in America we’re mainly going to focus on the railroad and mining industry.”

      You gave a scarce grimace. 

     “Railroading! Invest where the money is, Sir! Art, automobiles, electricity, and dare I say civil rights!” the Captain laughed, patting Cal on the shoulder and leaving to greet the other passengers. 

     Cal stood still for a second and although you wanted to comment, you knew better. Instead, Cal seemed to knowingly pinch your hand a little too hard to the point you winced. But he cleared his throat, let you go,  and simply walked the other way. 

     Their short nap made them miss the ship’s departure, but the second they awoke, Drake and Harry dashed through third-class lounging to the bow of the ship. The nice cool breeze pinched Harry’s cheeks as he ran, the faint feeling of ocean droplets flying through the air.

      They reached the very tip of the front, cautiously looking over to somehow calculate the exact speed at which they were going. Dolphins raced each other beside the ship, acknowledging they had an entertained audience on board. 

     “You don’t think the ship’s gonna hit them, right?”

     Harry let out a loud and uncontrolled laugh, “Well, now I do!”

    Drake climbed onto the railing, carefully balancing himself with one hand gripping the thick iron strings. He stretched out his free arm, staring off over the horizon and enjoying the feeling of a rushed breeze slapping his chest. 

     “I swear I can see the Statue of Liberty already!” Drake yelled. 

     Harry grinned and climbed onto the railing as well, mimicking Drake’s position as to not accidentally fall overboard. 

     “Oh, this is madness!” Harry screamed, his hair flying all over the place. But he seriously could not contain the giant smile that widened with each new jump of a dolphin, Drake’s howls of joy, and with the ever changing color of the bright blue horizon. 

     It seemed to all be coming together - the colors, the voices, the American dream. Harry could feel the excitement in the pit of his stomach, and he swore it could not grow any larger for risk of actually exploding. But similar to his pondering back home in his chilly room, that luck that Harry had following him around was definitely to blame for such an adventure. 

     Harry raised a clenched fist in the air and joined Drake in all the howling. 

     “I’m the king of the world!”

          Dinner went as expected. You were quiet and polite, only speaking when spoken to, and the same tunes of violin screeched beside your ears. It made you miss more gentle rhythms, more upbeat sounds, and a much more excited band. European music was beautiful, but it seemed rich individuals only enjoyed the same three songs. 

     You drew a warm bath in your private bathroom after saying goodnight to both your mother and Cal. You weren’t expecting any further intrusions, and you swore that if any knock sounded from outside while you were in the bath, you would kill them. You had reached the end of your tolerance for today. And no matter how much you tried to prevent it with cold water on your face, vanilla candles, and your own private batch of special herbs, the first stages of a long migraine sneaked their way through. 

     You lay in the warm water thankfully undisturbed, big toe playing with the tub handle and a glass of champagne in your hand. It was all quiet now, the only sounds being your breaths and the tiny bubbles in your bath popping almost silently. Without another thought, you placed your champagne down on the side table and sucked in a deep breath, plunging your head underneath the water. Your thick hair swam in every direction, tickling your shoulders. You kept your eyes tightly shut and counted. 

     Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. 

     Once your lungs felt too constricted, you came back up and rubbed at your eyes. You cleared your nostrils and rubbed at your lips, the outside reality still unchanged. No noise, no new presence - just calmness. 

      And the water was becoming cold. 

-- 

Please tell me what you think and if I should continue! Please also let me know if you would like to be tagged in any updates. Reblogs would certainly help this story reach even more people. Thank you. - xxMoni

[hakutaichou]

[CN] Main Story: Chapter 33-3 (Gavin Route)

⚠️ SPOILER AHEAD ⚠️

🚨 Warning: This post contains REALLY BIG spoiler from main story which some of them have not been released in JP, TW, Global, nor ASEAN servers. 🚨

A/N: cuz the cn server using “Wuhui”, in english means “ball, dance party, and prom”, I’ll use “ball” like victor’s dance date? 

- Part 0 -

It was getting late, and there was still about half an hour before the time agreed upon with Gavin.

Gavin seems to be very busy lately, and I don’t have much time to spare because of the show. During this period, we only made a hasty phone call in the village and agreed on a time for the ball.

Gavin and I were not too surprised by the fact that Commander Leto invited us to the ball.

I just don’t know what he is planning this time...

I thought about it, subconsciously looking at my wrist, the ginkgo bracelet shimmering in the light.

The complicated thoughts seemed to be sorted out in an instant, leaving only a clear thought in my mind.

MC: No matter what Commander Leto wants to do, I can’t hold back.

I must go forward, and retreat together with Gavin.

***

Gavin knocked on the door of the office, and walked in just after getting a response.

The middle-aged man at the desk a solemn and serious expression. He raised his head and looked around Gavin.

Middle-aged Man: How are you preparing for the ball?

Gavin: Everything is ready, except for one thing.

Middle-aged Man: What’s the matter?

Gavin: This, give it back to you.

It was something that looked like a communication controller. The moment Gavin put it on, the man’s face became very ugly.

He frowned. Although he couldn’t see the anger in his eyes, the air pressure in the office had already changed.

However, Gavin turned a blind eye to this and continued to speak in an official manner.

Gavin: In addition, I also removed all the automatic sniper devices that you arranged in advance.

The man at the desk snorted coldly, his expression wasn’t surprising.

Middle-aged Man: You still don’t understand.

Middle-aged Man: Animal are inevitable, and all useless kindness is to help or abuse.

Middle-aged Man: Commander Leto’s plan must fail. Once those people are used by him...

Gavin: Of course I know.

Gavin interrupted him, his voice wasn’t loud, but he was quite determined.

Gavin: But what you are willing to give up, I don’t want to.

Gavin: I will achieve my goals, in my own way.

The man smirked and leaned back on the seat, holding his hands on his chest, looking at Gavin.

Middle-aged Man: You’re still so idealistic. Do you think things are so easy to solve?

Gavin ignored his sarcasm, just continued to look at the man, his eyes burning.

Gavin: After this mission is over, I will apply to return to STF.

His tone was firm, not so much about making an application, as about notifying the opposite person.

Middle-aged Man: STF won’t accept traitors.

Gavin: You know I’m not.

Gavin: And after tonight, STF will need me.

Middle-aged Man: You did it because of her again.

Gavin: I do it for myself.

Gavin: For so many years of persistence, for the people who used to fight alongside me, and...the future of this world.

The middle-aged man fell silent, but his expression wasn’t too surprised, as if he had expected such a day a long time ago.

Gavin didn’t say anything any more, he took off the micro badge on his chest, paused, and even the black gloves were taken off and placed on the table together.

No need to state.

Just when Gavin turned and left, the man finally opened his mouth again.

Middle-aged Man: Wait.

He opened the drawer, took out an envelope and placed it next to his black gloves, and stopped talking.

There seemed to be invisible pressure colliding with each other in the silent air.

Gavin hesitated, then turned around, picked up the envelope, and opened it. The moment he saw the contents, his eyes widened in surprise.

This is a personal recommendation letter that has already been prepared.

The sunlight from the west slid into the room, and fell on the signer who was both familiar and unfamiliar.

Gavin put the envelope away, saluted the middle-aged man, and the left without looking back.

***

After the door closed, Gavin walked briskly and took out his mobile phone, dialing the very familiar number.

Gavin: Are you at home, how are you prepared?

The girl’s soft noise came from the other end of the phone, which made him follow the person who unconsciously lowered the voice.

Gavin: Mm, I will pick you up right away.

.

- Part 1 -

Men and women in various dresses gathered in the hall with wine glasses in groups.

Necklaces and leather shoes dazzled the night under the crystal chandelier.

Guest A: I heard that the people present today are all big figures in the business and political circles, and Victor, CEO of LFG will also come.

Guest B: It’s not just business and politics. Professor Lucien from Ultima Bioresearch Center was also invited, the one who developed the vaccine before...

Before the words were over, there was a tumult at the entrance of the venue, an extended Lincoln stopped in front of the door, and reporters swarmed up.

Kiro got out of the car, and walked slowly into the venue in countless flashing lights.

The dark clouds have blocked the moonlight at some time, and the sky in the distance is pitch black, it seems that it’s about to rain.

I walked into the hall holding Gavin’s hand, and cautiously looked around.

The ball was a lot more lively than I thought and I never saw Commander Leto’s shadow.

Gavin: Looking for Commander Leto?

MC: The ball has already started, but the organizer isn’t there, It’s so strange...

Gavin: Mm, but this isn’t an ordinary ball.

Obviously, this is a “Hongmen Banquet”

[Note: “Hongmen Banquet” is a idiom to describe a situation where it appears to be festive, celebratory, fun, an opportunity for pacification, but it is really a situation that is dire, dangerous, or even deadly.]

.

We walked to the corner of the venue, I took out a small piece of paper from my handbag and handed it to Gavin.

MC: By the way, I compiled the guest list this time.

Since receiving the invitation letter that day, I started to inquire about the relevant information about the dance.

The hard work paid off, and I finally got this list before coming to the scene.

In order to avoid being discovered by other people, I deliberately lowered my voice and explained it carefully to Gavin.

MC: Commander Leto’s reason is high-sounding, saying "Open the ball to all Evolver" and "Promote the relationship between ordinary people and Evolver"...

MC: But the people he invited were actually big figures in all walks of life.

MC: He must have some ulterior motive...

As Gavin heard about it, he browsed the list in hand.

He raised his hand to rest his chin, his eyes slightly narrowed, his expression focused and serious.

At this moment, there was a sudden commotion in the crowd, and Gavin and I looked towards the door.

Commander Leto walked in with a few special officers. The guests' expressions were brilliant. Some raised their glasses to him with a smile, while others turned their backs impatiently.

It seems that there are many of Commander Leto's cronies at the scene, but there are also people like us who had to come for some reason.

Thinking like this, Commander Leto walked straight in the direction where Gavin and I were.

He looked at Gavin, with a hypocritical smile on his lips.

Leto: Long time no see, Gavin. Welcome.

Gavin: No need.

Gavin's tone was cold, which made Commander Leto's expression a bit ugly. He cleared his throat and turned his head to look at me.

Leto: It's really surprising that Miss MC also came.

Gavin frowned slightly, but before he could speak, I took the conversation first.

MC: What is unexpected about this. Didn’t you invite me by yourself?

After hitting the wall twice in a row, Commander Leto sneered, and finally no longer vacillated.

Leto: I hope that this time you won’t escape in such a haste like last time.

Of course I knew that he was referring to the incident that had been pursued by STF before, and I felt annoyed.

MC: Isn’t there someone else who wants to escape?

I probably didn’t expect that I would say so directly, Commander Leto was taken aback for a moment, then frowned, and left without looking back.

Looking at Commander Leto, who was gradually disappearing into the crowd, I couldn’t help but “Hmph” triumphantly at his back.

Gavin: You are today...

MC: Hm?

I turned my head to look at Gavin, and found that he was looking at me intently, with a faint smile on his eyes.

Gavin: It feels a little different from before.

I was taken aback for a moment, and my cheeks were slightly hot.

MC: Am I being to aggressive just now...

Gavin: No, that’s great.

Hearing this, I couldn’t help but laugh with him.

The time passed by minute by minute, finally reached the time for the official opening of ball.

Commander Leto walked to the stage amidst the applause of the crowd, took the microphone and began to speak, but they were all clichés that have been told countless times in the news.

I was a little bored of hearing, and had to listen patiently. At this moment, Gavin’s voice suddenly got into my ears.

Gavin: MC.

Gavin: Your marksmanship isn’t still strange, right?

I looked at it suspiciously, and was stunned for a moment.

The amber eyes have completely eliminated and turned into another sharp look, with a war spirit engraved in the deepest part.

***

Quite contrary to the bustle of the dance floor, the parking lot was so quiet that nothing but me and Gavin footsteps were left.

There were no cars parked around, but there was a sudden noise not far away, and a group of young people in NW uniforms appeared in front of us.

And behind them, is the source of the noise--- the door of the carriage that opens slowly.

All kinds of unnamed guns and weapons piled up the entire carriage, and suddenly filled my sight, making me speechless in surprise.

Gavin: The situation in the field is as expected. Has the demolition person gone?

NW Team Member: Has successfully sneaked in.

Gavin’s voice brought me back to my senses. While he was talking to the people around him, he took a pistol from his waist and placed it in my palm.

Gavin: This is for you, just in case.

Those amber eyes reflected my appearance, and I nodded solemnly when I saw myself taking the pistol.

The body of cold gun seemed to still have his temperature, and the familiar touch evoked many memories.

This time, we have to fight together.

I clenched my pistol and made up my mind secretly. Suddenly, there was a faint sound of music in the direction of the ball.

Gavin’s body was slightly stagnant, and there was a little regret in his eyes looking at me.

Gavin: I can’t dance with you today.

I shook my head, but laughed instead.

MC: Didn’t you say that, this isn’t an ordinary ball.

MC: As for dancing, I’ll make it up next time.

As soon as my voice fell, an abrupt voice sounded behind me.

“Kacha” is the sound of a bullet.

I turned my head abruptly and pointed my gun at the uninvited guest in front of me.

It turned out to be Eli!

Behind him, stood a large group of people wearing uniforms specially exposed to STF. They all held guns in their hands, and they didn’t know when they were surrounded by us.

Eli’s eyes were so dark that he couldn’t get rid of it, he looked at us with a cold tone.

Eli: Sorry, I’m afraid there’s no “next time” for you.

.

- Part 2 -  (Mission Stage)

.

- Part 3 -

Gavin didn’t seem to be surprised by Eli’s appearance. He raised his hand and pulled me behind him a little bit, facing the gunpoint of STF without fear.

Gavin: You really appeared again.

Eli: But today is different from before.

Eli: I’m here to solve your problems.

Eli’s expression and tone were extremely cold. With a wave of his hand, the team member behind him were immediately ready for battle.

Upon seeing this, NW teammates around him immediately entered a fighting state, and the air was filled with the smell of rattling.

The melodious music continued to come from the direction of the dance, but it couldn’t relieve me the tension on the scene.

One piece just ended, and the second piece began to play. The short and tactful beat was a bit ethereal, but it was a little weird.

Gavin immediately changed his face when he heard the music.

He quickly pulled me behind the pillar and put his hand on my ear.

MC: Gavin...

When I was about to ask a question, Gavin shook his head, and took out two miniature earphones from nowhere to put them on for me.

I just noticed that he was wearing such a headset, and there was a guess in mind.

MC: Is there any problem with this music?

Gavin: It can control Evolver.

Just now, the music is like a signal. At this moment, gunshots have sounded everywhere in the parking lot.

Gavin didn’t explain to much. After confirming that the surrounding teammates were all right, his eyes fell on me again.

Gavin: Be safe, I will be back soon.

MC: I’m going with you!

I subconsciously pulled his cuff, but touched something hard and cold.

I was taken aback for a moment, Gavin looked at me, pulled up his cuff, and a needle with cold light appeared in front of me.

MC: This is...

Gavin: Anesthetics.

Gavin: I can’t shoot Eli, but I can’t let him go.

MC: Are you going to pretend to be controlled by music and approach him...?

I quickly understood Gavin’s intentions, he nodded, his eyes sinking a little, but the determination in his eyes couldn’t hide.

Gavin: MC, cover me.

MC: I got it.

Hearing my answer, Gavin raised the corners of his mouth lightly, nodded at me firmly and confidently, turned and walked towards the fierce battle.

My eyes were chasing after me, the parking lot was already in chaos, and fighting was everywhere.

Gavin was walking towards Eli’s position, his steps were a bit stiff, like a puppet being manipulated.

Knowing that he wasn’t affected by the weird music, I was so nervous that I tightened my gun and tried to evoke my Evol.

Seeing Gavin approaching Eli’s expression step by step, there was no change.

He didn’t have the joy of the plan’s success, or did he face the emotions of his former comrades in arms. His eyes were always cold, even numb.

Finally, there was only a gun’s distance between the two of them, and Eli raised the muzzle to Gavin’s forehead.

My heart beats like a drum, silently gathering power at my fingertips, ready to attack at any time.

Then the moment I held my breath, things suddenly changed.

The pistol turned around in Eli’s hand, he put down his right hand, handed the gun to Gavin’s eyes.

Eli: Do it yourself.

MC: !

Is he testing whether Gavin is really controlled? Or is there another purpose?

The unexpected unfolding made me unable to help my mind, at at the same time, I didn’t dare to slow down, watching their every move closely.

Because Gavin’s back was facing me, I couldn’t see his expression clearly, only saw him slowly stretch out his hand, about to touch the gun on Eli---

At this time, the music that had been surrounding him suddenly stopped.

Eli and I were both taken aback. He quickly retracted his gun and moved towards the venue. I also looked quickly, but only saw the door that closed suddenly.

Then, the continuous gun replaced the gorgeous movement, and the heart-piercing screams made my heart tense.

MC: What happened...

The ominous feeling enveloped me. Before I had time to think, Eli’s voice sounded.

Eli: The plan failed, start the aftermath.

Eli: All Evolver, killed immediately!

Under the cold command, the members of STF reacted, and the attack became more violent.

Eli went straight to Gavin, his expression instantly changed.

He decisively raised his right hand, and the muzzle of the black hole aimed at Gavin again.

That’s too late!

Action before thinking, I quickly clapped the back of my hand, and a pure white light exploded in front of Eli’s eyes.

While he was drawing attention, I hurriedly stepped out of the cover of the open pillar, raised my gun and aimed at him.

However, Eli’s reaction was extremely fast. The moment he found me, the muzzle immediately turned its angle and aimed at where I was.

Then he pulled the trigger mercilessly.

Between the electric light and flint, Gavin stepped violently, firmly held Eli’s shoulder from his side and pressed hard, and then quickly withdrew the needle from the cuff...

Two gunshots.

I slumped on the ground, breathing quickly, and my brain fell into a short blank.

There was a bullet embedded in the wall beside him. It was the bullet that Eli shot at me.

I looked forward and saw Gavin picking up the gun that had fallen from the ground, his eyes a little complicated.

And Eli was falling at his feet, losing consciousness.

.

- Part 4 -

The night was getting darker, but outside the ball hall was very lively. 

The entire venue was surrounded by people from NW, and the door of the hall was cordoned off.

Gavin sent Eli, who was in a coma, to the car. At this moment, a team member hurriedly walked in front of us.

NW Team Member: Captain Gavin, the things have been removed.

He held a small instrument in his hand, which looked complicated and delicate.

MC: Is this the source of the music just now?

Gavin: Yes, Commander Leto wants to use this sonic filter to influence the brain waves of other people, thereby controlling them.

MC: The people in that venue...

Gavin: To him, the people inside are nothing but chess pieces.

Gavin: If there’s no way to control it, it’s better to destroy it directly.

I shuddered when I thought of cry and scream I had just heard.

Gavin briefly confessed to the team member again, then turned and walked to the front of the team.

He took off his suit jacket and put in on his arm, raised his hand and pulled on his tie but his expression didn’t relax.

Gavin: How long have we waited?

NW Team Member: It’s almost ten minutes.

Gavin: There has been no response inside?

The person being asked was stunned, and the answer was a little hesitant.

NW Team Member: ...Do I need to warn again?

Gavin looked at the closed door ahead, squinted his eyes slightly, and the night and neon were reflected in those popper-like eyes, adding a bit of depth to it.

Gavin: No need to talk nonsense with him.

He leaned on the door of the car with one hand, with the other hand in his pocket, and gently raised his finger to give orders.

Gavin: Go straight in.

With a bang, the door of the ball was completely destroyed.

The smoke was in the air, and I couldn’t help but cough quietly, and Gavin had already led the crowd into the smoke first.

MC: *cough

I was just about to follow when I suddenly heard another slight coughing around me.

I hurriedly turned my head to look at the car parked beside me, and Eli had already opened his eyes!

I was a little nervous, for fear that he pointed his gun at me again, and quickly touched Gavin’s gun from his pocket and held it tightly in his hand.

Eli: MC? How came I...

Eli held his head, his eyes looked a little confused, and he was different from the coldness before.

MC: ...Here is the ball held by Commander Leto, don’t you remember?

Eli: Ball? oh.....yes, ball...

As if finally remembering something, he straightened up abruptly.

Eli: Are you and Gavin okay? I remember that I seemed to...shot you?

MC: We’re all fine. But...have you fully recovered?

Eli: Recover?

Hearing my question, Eli’s expression became more confused. I hurriedly found the NW team member beside me, and got the sound wave filter for Eli.

MC: You were previously controlled by Commander Leto with this sonic filter.

While speaking, the dust scattered in the air gathered again, and the violent wind gushed out from the inside of the ball hall, and the momentum seemed to sweep the world.

MC: ...Gavin!

I was uneasy, and immediately ran to the venue with Eli.

***

My vision was blurred by the dust, but the gunshots in my ears were constant, and I vaguely caught a few sounds.

NW Team Member: Commander Leto was shot!

NW Team Member: Who hit it?! Arrest them all!

After one after another shouts and gunshots, there was an extremely clear voice.

Gavin: PUT DOWN ALL WEAPONS!

The scene suddenly became quiet, and the moment the dust cleared, I saw Gavin standing in the middle of the venue from behind.

He was surrounded by a group of STF members who holding guns, but they didn’t dare to approach him, unconsciously separated from him some distance.

Gavin was straight, he looked around and repeated it again.

Gavin: All, put down your weapons.

His voice formed an invisible air pressure, and in the next second, someone really shivered and put down the gun in his hand.

But there were also angrily holding the gun tighter and shouting.

Special Officer: You traitor to STF!

Special Officer: Why should we listen to you! You, you...

His volume became lower and lower, and in the end he couldn’t speak, only swallowing nervously.

Because Gavin has pulled out the gun, and ran it against his forehead.

Gavin: Every bullet of STF should be fired for justice. Now who is your gun aimed at?

The person being questioned was taken aback unable to speak.

Gavin didn’t continue to look at him, but maintained the motion of raising the gun, and looked around at the STF members again.

Gavin: The guests of this ball, are all innocent.

Gavin: I don’t know what Commander Leto used to deceive you, but now, you must listen to me.

Gavin: Put down the gun.

There was a low voice of discussion from the crowd, and many people put down their weapons, but more people were still hesitating.

The two sides were in a stalemate. At this time, Eli took a step forward.

The person who was pointed at with the gun by Gavin raised his eyes, unexpectedly Eli took the gun from behind his waist and placed it on the ground.

Special Officer: Captain Eli...

Seeing Eli’s actions, the man’s expression loosened a bit, and finally put down the gun in his hand.

Gavin also put down his gun, and Eli nodded at him and looked at the member of STF

Eli: Regarding to Commander...Leto, I have something to say to everyone.

He took out the instrument I gave him just now, and explained it loudly.

Eli: This is a sound wave filter, which can control human brain waves through music.

Eli: Commander Leto installed this filter in both the accelerated evolutionary energy and today’s ball.

The crowd was in an uproar. I hit the iron while it was hot.

MC: There’s also an over-evolution supervision office. Many Evolver in it haven’t over-evolved. They have all become experimental subjects in the accelerated evolution cabin.

MC: Both Gavin and Eli can prove this. If you still don’t want to believe it, I still have the test data of the Evolution Chamber as evidence.

Gavin took a step forward, took my word and continued.

Gavin: Commander Leto has already escaped, and NW will take over the next thing.

Gavin: STF won’t be held accountable for the ball, but if someone chooses to continue to be a tiger...

Gavin didn’t finish speaking, his eyes swept across the crowd, not angering himself.

The STF members on the scene fell silent, some were angry, some at a loss, and looked at each other.

I don’t know how long it took, there was a noise in the crowd, and someone put down their weapon.

Voices rang out one after another, and more people also put down their weapons. Finally, the atmosphere of tit-for-tat was completely weakened.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and subconsciously looked at Gavin beside me, and he was looking to me, with a faint smile on his mouth.

Eli: Next...

Gavin: You take the team back first, and I will take care of the rest.

Eli nodded, and he seemed to feel much more relaxed.

Eli: I got it.

Eli: I will pay attention to Commander Leto’s whereabouts and tell you as soon as I have news.

Under the leadership of Eli, the member of STF all left, and at this time, the ambulance finally came to the scene.

Many people were injured in the ball, but fortunately there was no sacrifice.

Seeing Gavin busy in the crowd, I couldn’t help but smile, ready to leave quietly, not to disturb him.

Unexpectedly, just turning around and walking out a few steps, a familiar voice sounded behind me.

Gavin: Going back?

MC: Mm, I think you are still busy, so I didn’t say hello to you.

Gavin: Wait for me.

Gavin turned around and called NW team member who was passing by, gave a few words, and then walked towards me.

The ends of his hair raised in the night looked high-spirited.

Gavin: Everything is arranged, I will take you back first.

Without a word, he took my hand and walked deeper into the night.

***

Gavin and I walked home through a park. The moon was hanging in the sky, and the starry sky was twinkling. People couldn't help but slow down.

In the flower bed in early spring, a lot of flowers bloomed, and the air was faintly fragrant.

It’s always been a long time since the two of us walked home together...

What happened just now is still vivid, and the tranquility now makes me feel a little dazed.

The street lamp casts a circle of light to envelop us, and the night breeze gently blows our hair.

I wish I could do this every day in the future.

Before we knew it, we had already walked downstairs to my apartment.

MC: Arrived

Although I feel reluctant, I opened Gavin's hand with ease.

My fingertips just left the warmth, but Gavin suddenly stretched out my hand, holding my hand tighter in the palm.

MC: Gavin?

I tilted my head suspiciously, but caught a little smile at the corner of his mouth.

Gavin: One more thing...

Before the words fell, Gavin pulled me into his arms and jumped up.

The wind quickly gathered under our feet, holding us upwards, until completely immersed in the night.

The lights of the city became far away in an instant, but the starry sky above his head was extremely clear.

I felt that something familiar had returned to Gavin's body, his scorching eyes were long-lost publicity and unruly.

Gavin's smiling voice rang in my ears, as close as, his body temperature.

Gavin: The dance that I missed, is now for you.

He took my hand tightly, led me to dance, in the wind, and under the night sky.

I also squeezed him back firmly, and looked deeply into those bright eyes.

A long night finally came to an end at this relaxed and tender moment.

.

Next: [F4, Assemble] Chapter 33-4

[adarlingwrites]

Dormouse

Summary:

After playing a game with two of The Beach's most dangerous members, the dormouse gets her tail caught by a tiger's paw.

He’ll make a wildcat out of her.

Author’s notes: It's 2 am and I've been furiously typing this away while chugging some coffee, so please excuse the errors if you find some. It's already February 14 where I am, so Happy Valentine's Day, have some filth.

VII

desire, I'm hungry / I hope you feed me / how do you want me, how do you want me?

Yamane had all the opportunities to examine her nebulous, twisted feelings for the tattooed militant; she just never took them. She avoided confronting the feeling. Now, a Heart game of all things is forcing her to face the ugly truth.

Or perhaps, she should have expected it from a Heart game. She experienced firsthand how terrible they can be, after all.

Yamane never really told anyone about what she felt about Last Boss. There are rumors circulating in the Beach about trysts between them because of her little visits after games, but neither gave away any substantial hints. The only way for anyone to know about Yamane’s feelings was if they heard her moan his name in one of the nights that she spent pleasuring herself.

It’s also suspicious that their fellow players are either couples or people who have feelings for each other. Whoever designed these games knew the players intimately.

They’re all being watched.

And now, these people wanted to watch how they would act in a scenario that involves possibly hurting the person they desired the most.

Yamane locks eyes with Last Boss, and she can't read him at all. His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t fight against the restraints. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for her to make a move, or just waiting for her time to run out.

“Two minutes remaining.”

At the warning, Yamane stops pondering about the nature of the game, and starts panicking.

She had considered taking the gun and shooting him somewhere that won’t kill him, but she doesn’t really know how to use firearms properly. Shooting him in the arm would run the risk of shooting him in the chest, and shooting him in the leg would doom him in future games. Either way, he might end up dead.

Yamane said she would kill to survive, but can she kill him? She’d be lying to herself if she said that she didn’t get attached. This newfound hesitation is precisely the reason why she used to play the games alone.

“Of all people to get attached to,” she thinks. “Why you?”

Desperate, Yamane pulls at her hair and screams, despair overtaking her.

Finally, Last Boss says something.

“Yamaneko.”

Yamane turns to him, her eyes wet with tears and her eyeliner running down her cheeks.

“Whether it’s you or me, when all is done, we’ll simply return to the soil. I’m thankful for this world. You should be too.”

Wiping the tears that blurs her vision, Yamane regards him for a moment. Last Boss continues to surprise her with every interaction; she never expected such wisdom from him. Perhaps this outlook is what made him a powerful player in the Beach.

Last Boss will live his life in the borderland to the fullest, literally carving his path away, until his time runs out.

But Yamane wants to be a part of that, and it’s too early for it to end now.

“No. Wait. I can figure this out,” she sniffles, fingers tangling through her hair.

He doesn’t say anything else to her.

Yamane strains herself to think. In her last Heart game, the rules were written in such a way to make players believe that they will have to spill blood by killing someone, when medical implements around them would suggest that players only needed to spill a portion of their blood. She looks to the X-cross for clues, but fails to find any hints.

Her eyes flick to the gun in front of her, and she grabs it. There must be something about the gun she can figure out. She runs her thumb against the arrow engraved on the side, and her mind wanders back to the time she and Mai went to an archery range. The instructor scolded her for pulling the bow when it’s not loaded.

At the memory, everything in Yamane’s head clicks into place.

Yamane aims the gun upwards, and unloads all of the bullets to the ceiling.

The sobbing girls look at her in surprise, then Yamane points the gun to Last Boss. Unsure if her plan would work, Yamane spills everything that’s in her heart.

“Last Boss, I’ve only known you for a little while, and truth be told, I was terrified of you when you and Niragi came to my apartment. I expected the two of you to rape or kill me on that day, but you two brought me someplace where I can thrive. There is nothing expected of me here except for playing the games. I am free to be who I am without repercussions from society.”

The tattooed militant’s eyes flick towards her, interest piqued.

“One minute remaining.”

“There’s nothing waiting for me in the real world. My family and friends all turned their backs on me. As fucked up as it sounds, when I’m in the Beach, when I’m with you, I feel like I finally belong somewhere. In this new world, I felt accepted for the first time. My new life has only just begun. So please, I don’t want this to be the end for either of us. I don’t want my time with you to run out yet.”

Now, Last Boss is giving her his full attention.

“Thirty seconds remaining.”

“I’ve come to appreciate you. I- I prefer your presence to Niragi’s too. When you entertained my request to instruct me on how to kill someone painlessly, you didn’t think twice before sharing what you knew. You were tracing the vulnerable points of my body, and your touch felt too damn good. When you came behind me to guide me, I wanted more of your touch. You’re in my head when I- I...”

Yamane begins to stutter.

“Ten seconds remaining.”

She’s saying too much.

“What I want to say is I want you! So please, accept my feelings!”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Yamane pulls the trigger, and waits for the end.

Just in case a laser comes firing at her skull if the plan didn’t work, at least she’d die with no unfinished business.

But the laser never came.

“Game Clear. Congratulations!”

The restraints on the X-cross release, and Rina runs over to catch Hiro’s body before it hits the ground, sobbing and hiccupping the entire time. Last Boss lands on his feet, and he rubs his wrists as he looks at Yamane’s disbelieving expression. The girl that Daisuke was kissing in the backseat barges towards Yamane and slapped her hard enough for her to tumble backwards.

“Why?! Why couldn’t you have told Daisuke the solution? Now he’s dead!”

Yamane, still in shock, could only laugh at the girl’s face, still surprised that her plan worked. The girl raises her hand again, but long, thin fingers grab her arm. Last Boss tears her away from his fellow militant, and drives his sword through her heart.

Rina screams, still holding on to Hiro’s dead body, and the girl’s body slumps to the ground.

Panting, Yamane looks to Last Boss, who sheaths his sword, then to the girl he just killed. She felt nothing. Legs shaking, she tries to walk, but her knees fail her. To her surprise, Last Boss grabs her, not letting her fall.

“Let’s get out of here,” Yamane whispers, and they turn around to leave.

But before they can walk out of the room, Rina calls out to them.

“Wait,” she cries, voice trembling. “How- how did you figure out the solution?”

Yamane looks at her, heart heavy as she watches her cradle the dead boy, then looks away. “I figured that the game is made specially for people who either have sexual or romantic tension, or are already together. Whoever came up with this game wanted to see the dilemma of whether one would shoot the other to survive, or sacrifice themselves for the person they desired. The rules didn’t say anything about firing the gun while it’s loaded, though. Heart games tend to have loopholes you can abuse, if you think hard enough,” she explains, unable to look at the grieving girl as she did.

Rina sniffles. “All this time, I could’ve avoided killing Hiro? Oh, God, what have I done? I killed him...”

“Heart games have a way of doing that to you, kid. I was lucky enough to play with someone who knew how to handle them a while back. I’m sorry.”

When Rina didn’t respond and buried her face in Hiro’s neck to grieve, Yamane turned to Last Boss once again. “Let’s leave her to grieve. We need to get back.”

Her fellow militant nodded, and wordlessly followed her out. The circular white table with a Nine of Hearts card is waiting for them outside, and Yamane tucks it away in her jacket. She was more than ready to leave this place, but one hand pulls at her forearm, spinning her around, and another grabs her other arm, pinning her against the wall.

The tattooed militant is looking at her with intensity that punched the air out of her lungs, just like the first time she made eye contact with him during their first game together.

“All those things you said, are they true?” he asks her. He gives her a pleading look, one that is searching her for answers.

Yamane nods. “I wouldn’t be alive if I was lying.”

Pausing, her eyes flick towards Last Boss’ lips, and she gulps. “Please, just kiss me already,” she whispers, looking him in the eye.

Trembling lips that are too soft for a man so rough claimed hers, and Yamane’s eyes fluttered shut, sinking into the kiss.

Soon, the kiss became more desperate. Yamane slips her tongue in his mouth, and he lets out an involuntary groan, hips bucking into her as they shared the sloppy kiss. She rakes her fingers down his back, through the fabric of his hoodie, and it only spurred him on.

He tears away for air, and looks at her with wide, hungry eyes, like a tiger’s. Yamane only needed one look at his flushed face to know that this was his first one, and he wanted more. She didn’t dare to say anything that will embarrass him, though.

“Takatora,” he mumbles, still pressed against her.

“Huh?”

“My name is Takatora. Use it when it’s just the two of us,” he says to her, voice low. Yamane nods, and she kisses him again. Under her bikini top, her nipples are starting to pebble, and the fire in her loins is almost unbearable.

As they break the kiss, Yamane breathlessly sighs his name. “Takatora. Heh. How befitting. I always thought you looked like a tiger.”

His shaking hands clamp over the globes of her behind, and he grinds against her, his movements inexperienced but still arousing, nonetheless.

Then, Yamane hears movement from the room where the game took place.

“Let’s continue this at the Beach,” she whispers, and she grabs Takatora by the hand, leading him outside the hotel. He gets in the passenger’s seat, while Yamane drives. On the way back, his hand is on her pale thigh the entire time, squeezing and kneading like a damn cat. The wildcat’s heart is racing, driving like a madwoman so they can get to her bed sooner.

Upon arrival, they converge with their fellow militants at the entrance. The survivors of the games go to the Hatter’s meeting room and turn in their cards one by one. All this time, people were staring at the two of them. Yamane realizes too late that her lipstick has stained Last Boss’ mouth. Fortunately, no one said anything about it.

Until Niragi arrived, that is.

“What the hell is that on you?” he asks, coming in for a closer inspection. Yamane leans over to look at Niragi, her eyeliner running down her face and her lipstick smeared.

Niragi puts two and two together and gives them a wicked grin. “So you made a move after all,” he says to Last Boss, and slaps his back.

As Niragi strolls away, Yamane gives Last Boss a questioning look.

“I told him to stay away from you,” he droned, and Yamane’s eyebrows perk up in surprise.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted you to myself,” the taller militant replies, turning to look at her.

Before Yamane could say anything else, it was their turn to surrender their card. Yamane holds up the Nine of Hearts, and the collector’s eyes widen, while his buddy comes running to the Hatter.

Soon, Hatter joins the fray, and when he sees the value of the card Yamane and Last Boss had on them, he breaks out into a grin, taking it from Yamane’s little fingers and holding it up. “A Nine of Hearts!” he exclaims, walking around the room. As onlookers are whispering amongst themselves, Aguni steps closer to see what the excitement was about.

Hatter turns to the militia’s chief, and breaks out into a laugh. “Aguni, I didn’t expect your people to bring me a high-value Heart card, of all things.”

The Beach’s number one then turns to the two militants, a mad glint in his eye. “You two, thank you, thank you! I’ll move your ranks higher as my show of gratitude.”

One of the executives stepped closer, a woman with straight bangs and long hair. “My my, one of these days you two will have to tell me how you cleared such a game,” she comments, eyeing the card with a wide grin. It’s Mira Kano, resident number seven. Heart specialist.

“Yamane, isn’t it? First you cleared a Five of Hearts with your fellow militants without casualties to the Beach, and now you survived a Nine with him. I’m surprised that someone from the militant sect has the makings of a Heart specialist. I won’t forget this,” she croons.

The interaction left Yamane stunned. Her? A Heart specialist. No. If anything, she’s a Spade player. “Sunohara was there to calm everyone down in the Five, and I just got lucky with the Nine.”

As the excitement dies down, Niragi walks over to the pair once more. “So, what did you two do to win the game?”

“I had to confess to whom I found the most desirable and then shoot ‘em,” Yamane replies. Last Boss is looking at his fellow militant with a neutral expression, not bothering to wipe off the lipstick stain off of his face. “Turns out, shooting while the gun isn’t loaded is an option. Two players died because one of them chickened out, and the other shot her crush.”

“So, you’ve got a crush on Last Boss?” Niragi is doing everything he could to make Yamane uncomfortable, and she knows it.

“Actually, yes, I fucking do,” Yamane replies, looking at Niragi with confidence. “I asked him to kiss me after the game,” she hisses. “Oh, and I thought of him while you fucked me,” she adds partially to bruise his inflated ego, and partially because it’s true. “Do you have a problem with that?”

At Yamane’s admission, Niragi laughs at her face. “I fucking knew it. I was tired of you anyway. Have fun with him, Yamaneko.”

Blood boiling as he walked away, Yamane had considered going after him, but Takatora placed a hand on her good shoulder and pulled her closer to him. “That’s just how Niragi is. Let him go. Let’s continue where we left off,” he whispers.

With a cheeky smirk on her lips, Yamane shows her agreement by holding his hand and leading him out the door. They get in the elevator, and as soon as the doors are closed, their hands are all over each other’s bodies.

Small hand trailing down his torso, Yamane palms at his cock, earning her a nip on her lower lip, and he kisses her in a frenzy as she pumps him through his pants. “Suck my tits,” Yamane hisses. His lean arms held her close to him, shaky fingers clawing at her back and undoing the string of her bikini top. Takatora pushes her against the wall, hands grabbing her breasts, and he latches on one of her nipples, tongue eagerly lapping the hardened bud.

Yamane moans, and the elevator door opens, revealing two girls with surprised looks on their faces. The surprise turns into horror when they see the tattoos on Last Boss’ arms, and Yamane’s messy double buns, realizing who they just ran into.

“Are you two just going to stand there, or are you going to move?” Yamane questions them, not even bothering to ask Last Boss to stop. Not a single shred of shame is left in her body.

The girls jump out of the way, and Takatora wraps her legs around him, carrying her off.

“Which door?” he pants against her chest.

“Third one to the left!”

The door swings open, and Takatora kicks it shut as they enter the room. They crash into Yamane’s bed, both panting.

Spindly fingers pull at her bikini top, and Yamane sheds her jacket, tossing it aside. She moans his name as he fondled and sucked at her breasts again, back arching against the mattress. Takatora pauses to kiss her, and she takes this opportunity to flip him over, grinding against him. He looks at her with wide eyes, freezing at the loss of control.

“Relax,” she croons. “First time?”

He makes a small, reluctant nod. “Are you nervous?” she asks again.

He shakes his head. “I take you’re excited then?”

Takatora nods. Relieved, Yamane chuckles. “Then there’s no need for me to hold back.”

Takatora corrupted her by bringing her to the Beach. Now it’s her turn to corrupt him.

After watching the rise and fall of his chest, Yamane leans in and plants a gentle kiss on his eyelid as she pulls his tank top up, then presses her lips to the tattoos on his cheek. She presses another peck on one of his moles, trailing kisses down to his neck, and she hears him growl. Yamane smiles against his skin, lips tracing down his chest and abdomen. Deft fingers unbuckle his belt, and Yamane takes out his cock from its confines.

She swirls her tongue around the tip and Takatora groans, bracing himself against the mattress. After running her tongue from the base all the way to the tip, Yamane encloses her mouth around him, and his hands fly to her hair, both of them grasping her buns.

“Yamaneko,” he hisses, thrusting into her mouth.

Filthy noises fill the room as Yamane continues to suck him, enthusiastic with every bob of her head. The growls and groans he gave her spurred her on, relishing in the way she makes him feel. She ends it with a wet pop, and proceeds to stroke him with her hand while her tongue fondles his balls.

Takatora sounds feral now, grasping and pulling at Yamane’s hair, her buns coming undone. Yamane takes him in her mouth again, and she goes as far as her gag reflex would allow her. Niragi’s cock was thicker, but Takatora’s was longer, and she tried not to choke as she took him all in. She can feel that he’s close.

Hips bucking, it didn’t take long for him to come, and Yamane takes it all in, each spurt painting her tongue white. She sticks her tongue out to show him his load, and swallows every drop. Watching her, he gulps, Adam’s Apple bobbing.

The wildcat had expected the night to end there, content with making her partner come, but the tiger had other plans.

Takatora flips them over, now on top of her once more, and pulls away her skirt and panties. “I’ve read on the internet that women like it when men return the favor,” he mumbles, and dives right between her legs. Yamane gasps, palming at his head through his hoodie. “You’ve read good sources then,” she pants. His tongue made broad, sloppy strokes at her labia, and she squirms at his ministrations, legs in the air.

“There,” she moans, instructing him where to go. “Right at that nub- use a little less pressure- fuck, yes,” she hisses, throwing her head back at the feeling. “You’re a fast learner…”

Her tiger lover pauses, looking at her. “You too, Yamaneko.”

Then, he dives right back in, his saliva and her juices staining the sheets. Yamane encourages him in every step of the way, teaching him how to please her. As Takatora eats her out, he grinds his hips against the mattress, already hard again. Yamane notices it, and smiles.

“Tora,” she pants, and he smirks against her cunt upon hearing the affectionate nickname. “Do you want to fuck me?”

He nods enthusiastically, mouth still against her cunt.

“Fuck me then. Take me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. The tiger kneels, and with no hesitation, he plunges his cock in her dripping cunt.

Yamane screams, pleasure shooting up her spine. Takatora took her brutally, sharp hip bones slamming against the soft flesh of her thighs, leaving red marks as he went. One hand bracing the bed frame, Yamane’s other one reaches down between her legs, finger rubbing her clit furiously as he fucks her. Meanwhile, his hands palmed and squeezed at her breasts, and his growls and groans echoed in the room.

It didn’t take long for her to reach her limit.

“Tora, I’m going to come,” she cries, and he responded by grasping her hips and fucking her like the animal he is. A sharp cry escaped Yamane’s lips as she came, her walls milking his cock, white spots blinding her. Her fingers leave her clit, thoroughly sated, but Takatora isn’t done yet.

Her lover doesn’t stop pumping into her, and it’s becoming unbearable.

“Tora, oh God, it’s too much” she pants, palming at his chest, but he pays her no heed. He flips her over, pushes her head against the mattress, and clamps a hand around her mouth as he penetrated her again. His tongue drags against Yamane’s neck, and his lips planted rough kisses on the fragile skin. She screams against his palm as his wild, uncoordinated thrusts force another orgasm out of her.

“Fuck, is this really his first time?” the wildcat thinks to herself as she comes down from another high. She didn’t expect the night to go this well. From the ache between her legs, it’s almost going too well.

Thankfully, Takatora finally reached his limit as Yamane’s walls milked him again. Spilling his seed deep inside his wildcat’s womb, he bites her shoulder as he comes, hard enough for it to bruise the morning after.

Sweating, panting, he collapses on top of her.

“Mine,” he growls, scooping her into his arms. “Say that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

[poptod]

The Game (Baxter x Reader)

Description: You’re either a weirdo or a psychopath. Or both.

Notes: so this is um. kind of weird. but i guess thats kind of my thing at this point WC: 1.7k

+

"Didn't think this was how it'd go, did'ja?"

"I would really like it if you took these handcuffs off."

"Why? Cause they're yours?"

You stepped closer to his chair, dragging your gaze over every knot you tied around his body. The rope around his ankles and chest, the metal handcuffs behind the back, the gag unceremoniously hung round his neck ever since he wrestled it off.

"Does that bother you?" You asked as you bent in front of him, a wide, toothy grin spreading across your lips. "Being tied up by your own tools?"

"Shut. The fuck. Up," he hissed out beneath his breath, staring straight forward with a glare that could kill. As usual he completely avoided your own eyes.

"Aww, tiny cop is a little testy today, isn't he?"

Shooting up from your position on the floor, you wandered into a darker corner of the room, where the fluorescent light shining over Baxter couldn't quite reach. There you kept your bookcase stocked full of a variety of your tools. Mostly books, but several of the shelves held cases for knives and bug specimens, two of the most beautiful things you imagined one could have. The white light reflected off the glass case and into the detective's eyes.

"I think you need to calm down," you said as you dug into one of the bookcase drawers, feeling around for a lighter and cigarette. "You smoke, right?"

He remained quiet, that glare still piercing the wall in front of him.

"Doesn't matter. I've seen you smoke. I watch you a lot, you know," you spoke through the cig, clicking on the lighter in your hands before a flame burst.

The steps you took towards him were small, calculated, and gentle with your tapping shoes on the cement floor. This room didn't have the best sound quality, and every little noise was magnified by the stone walls. The minimum amount of furniture had made way for the same echo.

"You're very interesting to watch. You're the only cop that's actually interesting. Did you know that?"

With how low his seat was on the ground his face was right in front of your hips, and you spared him no mercy. Instead you stepped even closer, till he was forced to lean back with uneven breath, ire lacing his stare that had nowhere else to rest but you now.

"I've met a lot of cops in a lot of different countries," you admitted thoughtlessly, taking a long drag from your cigarette. "But you're fun. And so fuckin' pretty."

You knelt once more, this time nearly sat between his legs, and blew smoke into his face. His nose scrunched up as his eyes shut, annoyance clear on his pursed lips.

"What the hell do you want from me?" He said in a low, quiet voice that you had already come to know quite well. The moment you recognized it another smile spread across your face, big and unsettlingly happy.

"A good time, hopefully," you said, raising your hand to his face. At first he flinched, twitching away from you, but your need was relentless. Your palm landed on his cheek, allowing you to stroke the small cut along his cheekbone.

When at last he raised his eye to meet yours, the first thing you noted was fear. Fear permeates every emotion––it raises itself above all else, tells on itself before any other emotion can. There were other things beneath that, of course; anger, contempt, the usual when someone is forcefully tied to a chair in the middle of a nondescript room with no windows.

"Don't worry," you chirped. "I won't hurt you. Much. I just... I have these cravings."

Before turning back to your bookcase, you took another slow drag from your cig, watching the end burn till it nearly touched your lips. The smoke you blew out was half in his face and half not, though by his expression it might as well have been all of it.

You reached into your pocket, pulling out the key to one of your glass cases. It wasn't a terribly secure location for the contents, but that little bit of danger was always thrilling––never knowing if your prey will manage to reach those knives. 

Your largest was closer to a sword than a dagger, and though it did its' job of intimidation, the easier tool was the small silver knife engraved with cuneiform. The most painful was the jagged-toothed blade, who tore at skin instead of slicing it. That was for another time.

With the silver knife in hand you turned back around, a knowing smirk on your face as you once more approached the detective.

"Jim Baxter. James. Jimmy-boy. How ya feeling? Good?"

No reaction from him. Perfect.

"You want to know something? Little tid-bit of information. Little fun fact about me," you said with a sigh as you knelt. "I don't like your line of work. Not just because you guys are always tryin' to bust my ass and ruin the fun, but I don't like the government in general. The perfect society is an anarchal society. It's probably too much to ask what your leaning on this is, right? I think I know anyway."

You fiddled with the knife in your hands, toying with the handle and picking at the blade.

"White-picket fence boy," you added.

"The hell does that mean?"

"You know exactly what it means. It's just––I think it's a little funny. All around you're such a law-abiding person, so nice, so plain, and you've got all this flavor on your face."

By the way his eyes widened, you could tell what came to his mind. It was what came to most people's minds when you tried to explain the essence of flavor in human personality; cannibalism.

"I'm not going to eat you," you clarified, chuckling when his breathing returned to normal. "I could, though. I have no qualms against it. Peel off the skin of your face, fillet that shit... probably taste like chips."

"Why are you doing this? What – what even are you doing?" He finally asked, succumbing to the confusion and curiosity that had plagued him ever since he woke up here.

"Intimidation. Kidnapping. Those are still illegal, right?"

"Yes."

"Right. Well, anyway, those are just some crimes that I by no means on purpose committed. It was just the only way to get what I really want," you said as the tip of your knife pressed into his clothed knee, running down the fabric and leaving a small scratch mark in his pant leg. He jerked away, but you only pressed harder, keeping him in place with a tight hand around his ankle.

"Don't be shy now," you grinned.

"You think you're hot shit –"

"I am."

"– but I'll find you, and –"

"It seems to me you already have."

"Would you shut the fuck up?!"

"Sorry. Go on."

"I'm gonna put you in jail, where creeps like you belong," he said through gritted teeth, his jaw set as he met your awaiting eyes.

"You think I'm a creep? I'm the most sane out of all my friends. Though, I do suppose we live in two different worlds," you said with a shrug.

His type lived in the light. Sunny-day type people, warm homes to come to at the end of the day, dark green grass and clean highways. Yours is more in the style of broken down street lamps––burning rubber from car wheels and the warmth of a lighter. At least that's the way you liked to put it, romanticized into the sweetest fashion so it's easier to swallow.

Honestly, most of your friends are coke dealers. There's one that sells guns to minors, but he's not a friend of yours. Just someone you know. All of them are good people, you can't deny that, but it's not a gentle environment.

Not that you're any bit unlike them. You do, after all, kidnap people and taunt them for fun.

"Alright. Question for you. Ever had sex?"

Nothing. You giggled, crossing your arms on his knees.

"Ever kissed someone? You don't seem like the person who would like any of that stuff. I'll still be surprised if you haven't, though. The idea that no one tried to jump your bones? Yeesh. I don’t think that's possible," you rambled on, making a few vague hand gestures as his glare never faded.

The surly twist in his face reached a high point, ending with him spitting onto your face with a deep irritation in his expression. It took a second or two before you quite processed what had just happened, but when you did you had no hesitation in your response; licking the flat of your tongue up from his jaw to his temple.

"You like that? Into that kinda thing?" You asked in a booming laugh as he spluttered, desperately trying to worm away from you. "That was on you, buddy. Come on. Admit it."

"I'm not going to –"

"Come on, say it! You deserved that. Right?"

You grabbed his chin in a tight grip, forcing him to look at you.

"You get everything that's coming to you. You deserve everything you'll receive within the next... hmm, let's say, three months? Depends on when I get bored of you," you hummed, glancing to the side as you thought.

"The next three months? What are you gonna do in that time?" He asked almost softly, brow furrowed in the same consternation as his eyes.

"Have a little bit of fun, for once. I hope you prove to be more entertaining than the last girl," you said with a grunt, pushing yourself to your feet. "In the meantime... you can't be missing for too long, baby."

"Wh –"

With the butt of your dagger in hand, you whirled back around, hitting him right in his temple. The hit of the massive gem on his skull knocked him out, muscles untensing as he fell limp in his restraints.

You smiled and breathed a sigh of happy relief, as though you had finished swimming in the brisk water of a lake.

"Ah... he seems nice."

Thirty minutes and he's waking up, waves of pain throbbing from his cranium. He hissed as he tried to sit up, realizing with much comfort that he was back in the linen sheets of his bed, the comforter all tangled and mussed beneath him. By the look of the clock, it was the morning of his first shift of the week.

And the first thing he has to tell his boss is that there's another psycho on the loose.

[coppercatwrites]

Save Me - Sherlock x Reader

Chapter 8: Talk to Me

Pairing: Sherlock x reader synop: some relax time for the rest of the night Taglist:  @reveluvspecial​ @ravencatart​ @germansarechill​  @sassy-potato-yall​ @melanoms​ @middleearthmama​ @fullmoonshadowwrites​ 

A/N: this took a little longer to write! woopsies!

With a heavy sigh, you lay Henry onto the couch with a blanket. “You should get some rest, sweetheart. You’ve been through so much today.” 

Silence. 

“Would you like anything to drink?” 

He rolls over, head facing the back of the couch. 

Sherlock walks out of the kitchen with a glass of water and gingerly sets it on the table. With hands on his hips, he turns to go sit at one of his experiments in the kitchen.

You run your fingers through your hair as you look for a laptop. You feel his eyes follow you around the flat until you give up looking. When you make eye contact, he looks to the left of you.

“Thanks.” 

The ghost of a smirk forms your lips when you see it sticking out of his chair cushions. When you open it, the blinking cursor for the password halts your tracks. 

Looking up from the laptop you see the corner of Sherlock’s lips twitch. From a good distance, you get lost searching his eyes for the magic words. 

“Letmein”

His eyebrows raise as the screen to his computer lights up your face exposing your sad, amused smile. 

“Henry, Would you like to watch something?” 

“No.” 

You snap the lid shut and set it onto the table. “Okay. well, at least let me know if you need anything…” 

Silence

Shaking your head, you quietly make your way to the door. “I’ll be back.” 

At the bottom of the stairs, you hesitate with your hand on the door. With a sigh, you take off your coat and hang it on the rack. Your shoes follow underneath. Sitting on the stairs, you rest your elbows on your knees and your head on the railing. Your eyes practically burn holes through the door locks. 

The sound of footsteps do nothing to bring you back to the present. Although when the figure sits beside you, your eyebrows furrow.  

“Hey.” 

Sherlock hums and glances at his phone. 

You pull out a bullet from your pocket and toss it in your hands. Your thumb rubbing across the engravement on the side. 

“A bullet? You don’t even own a gun.” 

You pause and press the tip into your middle finger. “It’s my father's ashes. When he died, I had him made into a live round.”

Silence

“Oh come on, not you too. John told me you never stop talking.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “What is the point of carrying around a dead person's ashes?” 

You clench your jaw and turn your gaze to the ground. “If he passed away normally it would be one thing, but he was murdered. Sentiment, Sherlock.” 

He sits quietly for what felt like minutes before he takes an audible breath.

“He was murdered by a gun, I presume. what kind?” 

“Sniper round. I looked around the outside of the house but I didn't see anybody.” 

He hums. “You wouldn't have seen anyone. What was the scenery like there? I’m assuming somewhere with a tree and some brush, did you look near those?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Yeah. I found a smeared footprint but even when the police took evidence, it got them nowhere.” 

“You’re… American. I presumed it happened there? No wonder why they didn’t solve anything. You said they were smeared, were there any broken branches nearby?”

You close your eyes and lie back onto the stairs. “I think… there were a few, yes.” 

  “You think or you know? They could have fallen from the tree and broke their leg or they could have tried to cover tr—”

You cover your face with your elbow. “I didn't ask for you to solve his murder, I asked for you to help me get rid of the hit men's clients that have been tailing me.” 

Before Sherlock can reply, John walks through the door carrying a few bags that looked to be carrying food. He paused after the door closed and quizzically looked at you on the stairs. 

"What are you- never mind." 

He reaches into one of the bags and digs inside for a second. After he finds what he's looking for, he tosses the brown paper tube at you. “I told Sherlock to ask you what you wanted to eat but he never got back to me.” 

You smirk as you look at the package. “Well, he never asked me.”

“You never stopped talking.” 

“You were asking me questions.” 

“And none of them were about supper.” John cuts in. 

Sherlock sighs as you chuckle to yourself. John calmly squeezes past you both up the stairs to 221b. 

Sherlock stands and turns around. “where’s my food?” 

John smirks. “You didn't answer my message.”

Sherlock’s mouth hangs open in offense. Before he can respond however, John has already welcomed himself home. 

You look up to see his eyes burning holes through the door. Laughing, you break your sandwich in half and toss it at him. 

“I can't eat that much. I’m too used to light meals. Please, have it.” 

He turns it over in his hands and nods at you. Halfway up the stairs, you get up to follow after him. Once inside, your attention is drawn to the sound of a kids tv show. Looking from the Scooby Doo episode to the couch, you find John and Henry involved in the show. With eyebrows raised, you glance to sherlock. 

Sandwich between his hands, he brings his fingertips up to his chin. “It’s actually impossible for them to deduce that outcome with the evidence provided. It’s entirely by chance.” 

Henry sits up. “Actually, Mr. Holmes, it’s not impossible. You just have to search for the right clues.” 

John hides his smile as he looks to the wide eyed Sherlock. “Yeah, what he said.” 

You shake your head as you make your way to the kitchen to eat. “You blog almost every day and your only additional comment is, ‘what he said’?” 

John lets loose his smile as he turns his focus back to the telly. “Yep.” 

Sherlock follows you into the kitchen. “Don't touch any of my experiments.” 

You chuckle. “Calm down tiger, just looking for some paper towels” 

“No, you’re not. What is it that you really need?” 

You cross your arms and lean into the counter, your eyes fixed onto the blood filled slide under the microscope. “Why did you block me from Nick at the warehouse?”

“The kitchen roll is in the cabinet on your left.” 

You smirk “Oh no you don’t. You are not avoiding this. You asked what I needed, and I’m telling you.” 

“Some things are best left unsaid.” 

Your eyes snap to his. “You wouldn’t have done that if… if he was going to…”

“You and your son wouldn’t have been harmed in any of the scenarios that I planned out.” 

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Your body shifts as you lean onto the counter. With arms crossed, you study his notepad on the table. 

He clears his throat. “I know. You’re welcome.” 

After a bite of your sandwich, Sherlock leans on the counter next to you and starts to eat his. The corners of his lips tug into a smile as he watches Henry and John discuss their favorite characters from the children's cartoon. 

“We are putting you both in danger by being here.” 

Sherlock scoffs. “Nonsense. I’m in my own danger by living here.” 

Rolling your eyes you laugh. “I think the only dangerous person here is John.” 

He shakes his head. Before he can reply, you turn to him. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you think you're a badass. I mean, you are. But when you’re being showy, it's cute.” 

He coughs on the bite of his sandwich. “Pardon?”

Smirking, you push away from the counter. “I think it's about time for bed. Goodnight, Sherlock Holmes.” 

As Sherlock retreats to his bed, you smirk at John, Henry, and the cartoon on the telly. “Alright, kids. I think it's time we go to bed.” 

Henry wines and falls back onto the couch, his eyes on the ceiling. “But mom, just one more?” 

John stands up and stretches. “I think she’s right. It’s getting late.” 

Henry sighs and marches away to the bathroom. While he’s gone, John and yourself start to make the couch look like a bed. 

“You know,” you sigh. “How did you change his attitude?” 

When John straightens up, he sets his hands on his hips. “All I did was talk to him.” 

Your eyebrows furrow. “What did you say to him?” 

He smiles and shakes his head. “That's something you need to find out on your own.” 

You tilt your head back and groan. “Another relationship I need to sort out. How fun.” 

“Another?” 

Glancing from Sherlock's door to John, you shrug. “Did I say another?” 

He chuckles to himself and shakes his head. “I’ve been watching you both. He’s quite satisfied around you. I’ve seen the way you look at him when he’s not looking. I may not be as intelligent when it comes to deductions and such, but I do have a better understanding of human feelings than he does.” 

As you open your mouth to respond, Henry walks past you and gives John a hug. “Night.” 

Henry briefly hugs you before he takes up the couch. After a few moments, the flat falls quiet. Sitting on the floor leaning onto the couch, you sigh and lean your head back. 

Maybe you could get some real sleep. Even if you could only get a few solid hours.

Next chapter: coming soon! 

[itsuki-minamy]

FOUR SEASONS OF K: “SUMMER FESTIVAL’S HEROINE”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

"Damn. This is lost too."

Painfully, Aya threw the ice cream stick on the ground.

Suddenly she breathes in pain and takes the stick and throws it in the trash in front of the store. She walks into a convenience store and buy another ice cream, and immediately escape from inside the store where the air conditioning was too effective. The damn heat wave that struck while waiting after the rainy season was God's salvation for today's Aya.

"Ah. How hot."

As she was sitting on the bench in front of the store and opening the ice cream, a grandmother's emotions leaked out. Although she likes mint with chocolate and is her favorite, her tongue is already thin and she can no longer feel the taste. Her tongue was tinted green when she showed her face on the screen with the PDA camera.

According to the information between users, there is a probability of one in thirty. She thought it would be an easy win because she had a high probability, but she was completely down with the fifth race.

She managed to strip the stick and turned it over to see if there was a mark anywhere, but couldn't find that letter.

"Isn't Ogai? What is this? What are you doing?"

There was a brake screech and a familiar voice stabbing. Aya, who had been drooling desperately, raised her face, and a boy wearing a baseball cap with both arms clearly colored with exposed short-sleeved burns on a running shirt or something, was lowering a leg off his bike.

Misaki Yata's firm appearance was glowing with halos at this moment.

"Misaki~! Please help me~"

++++++++++

Line 28 with thirty lines in front.

"Ah... that's a river!"

"Oh, oh, Misaki-kun, good job~!"

Aya instinctively held onto both hands with Yata, who posed triumphantly with the stick raised.

"I did it!"

After the two pale-faced people embraced under the heat,

"Uwaaah!"

Yata took distance from Aya. Aya almost caught the stick that Yata had thrown into the air with a jumping rhythm.

As a result, there are seven for Aya. She contributed 21 hits, three times more than Yata.

"And what is that?"

"Not even Aya knows about it yet. It seems like the 'items' of the prizes appear randomly."

"Elements?"

It goes back...

When Yata craned his neck and tried to look inside the stick while keeping his distance, an eerie low noise somewhere in between.

The sky is clear. The light of the midsummer sun drenches the roof of the tent. There is no cloud shadow that can help.

Yata shook her hand and said "Uh."

"Okay... Oh, I'm going home."

"Misaki-kun?"

Raise his back and return to the saddle with an unnatural pose.

"Oh, tell me what happened next."

He bracketed his index finger and middle finger and held it in front of him, but he was cold and sweating.

"Ah... Please do it in time..."

Aya said, "Thank you! Thank you for your cooperation."

When Aya was alone, she sat on the bench in the shade with the baton in her hand.

A two-dimensional barcode is engraved on a flat wooden stick with the word "Hit!"

It was a special summer vacation mission broadcast by "Jungle" for version B users.

Those who win the hit ice cream sold at a limited number of convenience stores will receive "the item that makes the summer break stronger" as a gift. The "object" of "Jungle" is said to be a transient supernatural power that can be separated from the "King" of "Jungle". Aya has yet to see.

Will the summer holidays be the strongest? What's going on?

In the “Jungle” mission, if you take a wrong step, some serious and dangerous things roll like a crime stick, but on the other hand, very childish entertainment can be planned. Who is the "King"? There are times when she thinks he can be a child instead of an adult.

Launch the app and hold her camera over the two-dimensional barcode as she taps. The camera automatically adjusted the focus and read the 2D barcode.

"Congratulations on winning, Shell!"

A booming sound effect echoed through the speakers and the mascot character Jean Pii appeared on the screen.

"The element that makes 'summer holidays the strongest' is presented to Shell."

On screen, Jean Pii quickly spun the lottery machine, which spins an octagonal wooden box, which is often used in draws. As soon as the yellow ball rolled out of the exit, the sound of the bells was loud.

"Congratulations!" Summer Festival Hero Set!"

Summer Festival... Set of Heroes...?

Aya, who was looking at the lottery results while holding her chest high, coughed coldly.

"What is that?"

++++++++++

Nothing interesting.

With a dog character mask on her head, dipping a red apple candy with a coloring agent into her mouth, and pushing a yo-yo of water that dangles from the middle finger of her right hand sharply, Aya is animated in the fair. It rots inside and comes out.

At the end of the path, kick the garbage that was in the driveway. It does not matter if the hem of the yukata is altered.

It didn't seem like anyone else was coming alone. Everyone happily watches the stalls with friends and family.

Who would become a hero in this place? She can't brag to anyone because she has no one to come with.

A sound of water rising near her was heard, and the boy began to cry,

"Buaaah!"

Looking at him, there was a puddle at the feet of a first grader from elementary school. A rubber band with the remains of a water yo-yo hanging from it is attached to the finger of a child who covers his eyes with his fist and cries. Although his mother reassured his, he stepped on the ground saying, "No! I want a new one!" Aya screamed at the sharp scream that pierced the eardrum and approached the boy.

"Take it."

When he turned around and pushed the water yo-yo in his right hand, the crying stopped. The eyes and cheeks of the boy who was staring at the watery yoyo with a beautiful blue marble pattern that trembled in front of his, were dry.

He's not crying... That's why she hates children.

"I'm sorry. It's yours."

The mother refused.

"I do not need it. I'll give you all of this too. I do not want it.''

Aya said, not only her right hand but also her left hand, and hung it up in front of the boy. In the left hand, there are eight colored water yo-yos that are arranged vertically with rubber bands. It is Aya who offers him everything because she is angry.

"Your mask is amazing! Have you got it all?!"

"Thanks to you."

Her brave mother's jaw closed and she responded, walking with the apple candy in her mouth again.

++++++++++

"Ah? Do you want to be stingy in our business?"

In front of a certain position, a person spoke with a bad voice to customers.

The stall sign says "shoot." Gifts such as toys and sundries are displayed on the platform, and guests with a BB gun filled with cork bullets line up in front of the long desk. It looked like one of the customers and a hat-wearing, hard-eyed employee was fighting on the other side of the long desk.

"I used five shots to calculate and make sure he could fall. There's something behind that that it can't fall."

He responded with about a tenth of the squeaky voice to the one in the store, that person has a slim back with a T-shirt.

"Isn't Saruhiko?"

Aya stopped her legs and raised her head.

"Isn't it your arm problem? I'll sue you for business interruption."

From the other side of the desk, the clerk faces Fushimi. His brow is furrowed as if regretting a bad smell.

"Saruhiko. I didn't think you would come to a festival like this. What kind of game are you playing?"

Fushimi turned to Aya's voice. However, he didn't change his expression at all, she said, "What are you doing?"

"What is that? I didn't find you because I wanted to."

"If that's the case, I'm busy now."

Fushimi quickly leaves Aya, who is outraged by what he says, turns to see the store clerk. Aya looked away when she noticed a child clinging to Fushimi's waist.

"Absolutely spot on, a Saru ball! Hit Nakamado's transformation set!"

“There's no use hitting him, dummy. It's a rule that you have to beat it.''

“It's cheating. Do not cheat!"

And even a smaller girl holding a child's hand screamed, and Aya was shocked.

"Oh, and that hidden boy?!"

"I do not know."

Immediately disproved by Fushimi by showing the coldness of absolute zero in the lens of the glasses.

"Yata and this little..."

"Oh, Misaki's younger brother and sister... What happened to Misaki?"

"I'm going with my brother!"

The boy upstairs yells around, "Ni-chan, Ponponpipi!" The girl said and laughed.

"Well... Misaki-kun and this girl..."

It's silly and annoying. After calling him nasty, Aya convinced his younger brother and sister, thinking he was there.

"I'll ask you just in case, but is Misaki-kun sick to his stomach...?"

"I don't know. It's some ice cream. Surely, because of that big eater, I became the babysitter for these little ones."

"Look, Nii-chan. If you're convinced, don't open the space. Is it a nuisance to the waiting customers?"

In front of Fushimi's face, the clerk waved his hat to avoid it. "Who's convinced..." Fushimi was trying to pay, sucking dust and coughing. However, the younger brother pushed Fushimi's buttocks back and said, "I still haven't received Nakanama's transformation set!"

Aya turned her mouth into a V shape and looked at the situation, but exhaled with a sigh and threw 500 yen at the table in the store.

“If you buy a bullet, you are still a customer. Give me five shot opportunities."

She changes places pushing Fushimi, who has a mysterious look.

"Which one do you want?"

"Nakanama Transformation Set!"

A large box of toys was displayed in the place the younger brother pointed out, such as a special seat on the platform. Certainly, even if the stand is hidden behind, if it is that size, it cannot be seen from the front.

"Hm. It is an easy victory."

With a snort, Aya received the air pistol and cork ammunition that the store manager handed her.

“Can you take it down, miss? I will not accept complaints after having used five shots."

"Alright. Instead, if I defeat it clearly, that's not to complain."

Before setting up, she takes the chest pad out of her yukata and operate the app. Standard summer festival items such as "collect goldfish" and "throw rings" are displayed in the item list. Since it's a one-time disposable item, the "yo-yo fish" she used for a while has disappeared from the list.

Element "trigger", activated.

For a moment, her entire body was enveloped in a sensation of running static electricity, and she was sucked into her weapon.

"It's a spectacle to see Aya's skill."

She spread her legs over her shoulders, holding the gun at eye level and staring. "Do your best, sister!" "Go!"

Cheers flew not only from Yata's younger brother and sister, but also from Nojima, who was guarding the stall, saying, "You can, princess! Good luck!"

Pont.

The gun made a soft sound and a cork bullet came out of the muzzle, she wondered if a harmless cork bullet would put out a green light.

Poom!

A sound that she couldn't think of as a cork bomb exploded and blew up the prize. After all, the support and awards hidden behind fell off the pedestal, and cheers roared from behind, "Is that a lie?!"

"Incredible! It can't fall!"

"What do you mean it can't go down? Isn't it a scam if you have a business that won't go down?"

"That's right, I promised you I wouldn't complain if you clearly defeated it!"

When the clerk was caught in front of Aya, he got scared and said, "I'm sorry..."

"Take your prize! Don't come back!"

++++++++++

"Great! The Red!"

The sister leaned to the edge of the aquarium and pointed to a goldfish swimming in the water. Fushimi sighed and grabbed the neck of the sister who was about to fall headfirst into the water.

In the aquarium crowded with parents and children holding a net made of plastic wrapped in Japanese paper, red, white, or red-and-white marbled chairs, the goldfish is swimming vertically and horizontally. Like a large candy containing only a few grains in a small plum flavored candy, there were a few buns mixed in with a headache.

"Do I like the one that isn't cute...?"

While muttering, Aya operates the app and selects an item from the list.

"Do you want a very cute one?"

While muttering, Aya operates the app and selects an item from the list.

The item "Collect goldfish" is activated. The selected fish glowed green.

Rolling up the yukata sleeves, Aya put a net in the aquarium in the spirit of "Let's go!"

The net that ran through the water, picked up the goldfish and bounced off the surface. An exceptionally large gold-colored ranchu leapt high into the air, splashing water under the lights of the stalls. The ranchu is the first to allow it to be taken to the bowl Aya put in.

Jump inside, the rest of the fish fell similarly.

As the night deepened, the crowds of people who began to cool off at night began to catch up. Children who sleep on their parents' backs are transported home in a quiet whisper.

Yata's sister was sleeping on Fushimi's back with a plastic bag that held the goldfish on her wrist. A balloon art dog is tied to the other of the two small hands that hang from Fushimi's shoulder and flutters over Fushimi's shoulder.

A while ago, the younger brother, who was still cheerfully chewing cotton candy and takoyaki, suddenly fell silent, grabbed the hem of Aya's yukata and tried to walk down. Nakanama's box, which he had been appreciating, was about to slip, and Aya had no choice but to pull it out of the boy's hand and hold it in her armpit.

"You used something strange."

"Hmm. It didn't matter because it didn't make you feel uncomfortable."

"If it's unpleasant, it's unpleasant, but the reason I made a loan is because I couldn't handle it if Yata wasn't there and he was too busy with the kids..."

Fushimi was different than usual, saying that he was relieved that she carried the brother who fell asleep.

Aya looked at the PDA. Almost all items in the item list have been exhausted, only one remains.

"Fireworks."

“I returned the loan to Misaki-kun. The latter can be used to fulfill Aya's wishes, right?"

She wants to be a hero, not someone's hero.

Hold down and grip the bottom of the yukata tightly. The toes sandwiching the geta's clogs were red and rubbed. At first she was angry when she wondered why she was wearing a yukata.

Are you aware of the unusual appearance? Don't you pay attention?

She can hear the sound of her heart clearly under the obi.

"Saruhiko. Why don't we watch the fireworks together...?"

The small voice was disturbed by the small vibration.

Fushimi held the sister's buttocks with one hand and pulled his fingers out of his pocket.

"Hah. He finally broke free from the bathroom."

With a sigh of jealousy, she looks around and begins to reply to check the benchmarks.

During that short span of time, Aya's floating heart recovered.

The sound of her heart was strong due to the tight band that she did not get used to. This made her emotions confuse. She seems silly...

"Oh, you were there. Oh, Saruhiko!"

She can see Yata running through the access, feeling like her cheeks are thin.

"I don't care. He came, and he couldn't get away from the bathroom. He finally cut everything off."

“These brother and sister of yours. I can't keep up with them."

Aya was terrified that she would often say out loud that she was grumpy, and took the boy's hand and pulled her away from her yukata. Push the toy box into the hand of the younger brother who sways with one sleepy eye.

"Aya is going home. I'm already on hand with Misaki-kun."

She yelled back, clicked her clogs, and left the place. Fushimi's reaction was not seen. She didn't expect to be stopped, but they didn't even call her.

She seems silly. She really looks silly... Aya doesn't think she can become that heroine.

++++++++++

"Why did you have a big ice cream after all?"

"Oh, actually, I meet Ogai at noon."

When he hears Yata's story, the line from the woman on the left side, who said she had filled in the holes, matched up. In other words, he was the main cause. Fushimi regretted feeling a little blessing and his tongue slipped out.

"Still, I have a lot of things! Was it really fun?"

As he accepted Megumi from Fushimi's back, Yata was impressed and looked around at his brother's hands. "Thanks for all the kindness, Saruhiko." Although he said thanks, he didn't get it, so Fushimi looked away.

Megumi's lips, which had moved to Yata's arm, were swaying and she had one eye half open.

"Oh, Nichan. Where's Nee-chan?"

"Nee-chan? Were you with someone?"

Following Megumi's gaze, Yata looks around mysteriously.

Minoru tugged on Yata's shorts to make his eyes sparkle.

“Oh, my masked sister! She's so cool, she's super cool! She was the goddess of the festival!"

"Festival goddess? Seriously, I wanted to see her too!"

"That is not true."

Fushimi, who rushed inside with half-narrowed eyes, rolled his eyes and hit Yata,

"Ah, because here is a sanctuary, is there a god?"

Assuming that there really is a god written in this shrine, it would be a punishment to equate it with Aya Ogai.

Well, should I thank the shrine gods? It is a pain to correct it and turn it into an achievement of that woman. What is sown is reaped.

"The festival is over!"

Looking at the grounds where the posts were being removed, Yata smiled a little alone. Yata is the man of the festival more than anyone. It would have been a shame if the festival wasn't completed because it was a round trip to the bathroom.

"Ah... fireworks..."

Yata suddenly screamed and looked as he approached the approach.

Hyururururu… A thin line of light rose from the ground, and a refreshing sound erupted, and a large flower bloomed in the night sky.

"Why, there were still fireworks! Why did everyone go home without seeing the fireworks?"

"Excellent!"

Fushimi frowned, as the Yata clan brothers were incredibly innocent, while there was a plan for the fireworks at today's fair.

Hyurururu... Bapappan!

Rays of light rise one after another from the ground that has sunk into darkness, and colorful flowers of various sizes illuminate the night sky with force. The indigo sky turns gunpowder white. Yata breathes comfortably into his lungs,

"I think this summer, this summer smells like this. They don't feel like they've finally come to the festival! Minoru! Megumi!"

"Nichan, what is that?"

"I don't know. That's what you say."

"Well, ok."

While listening to the Yata family's conversation, Fushimi stopped thinking deeply.

Today there were some mysterious things, but he thinks that often when he sees Yata he is very good.

The smell of gunpowder comes with the smoky summer breeze. It was the smell of summer that he notices only after getting involved with the Yata family.

[firewoodfigs]

we might be made of scars, but we’ll be alright

read on ao3 | song: miho fukuhara, let it out 

For @royaiweek day 3: old wounds - thank you mods!! 💕 y’all are amazing ✨ 

(a/n: it’s my first time trying out the “5+1 things” tag, and I thought I’d experiment with another writing style again xD feedback, as always, is greatly appreciated! <3) 

“This one had it coming, this one found a vein This one was an accident, but never gave me pain This one was my father's, and this one you can't see This one had me scared to death But I guess I should be glad I'm not dead” - Stone Sour, Made of Scars

i.

Lieutenant Hawkeye traces the long scar on the back of her calf idly as she changes out of her military uniform. It’s coloured a faded, nostalgic pink, and it reminds her of the innocent childhood that she shares with the Colonel.

She’d gotten it from a bad fall when she was only twelve, and her father’s apprentice had been terribly worried when he witnessed her limping back home. He had rushed over immediately with a first aid kit in hand, before propping her gently on the couch as he pleaded with her to let him take care of it.

It was hard to say no to such an earnest face like his. Having already suffered enough from the long walk back home, Riza wanted nothing more than to rest at that point. Eventually, she relented, though with a hint of distrust.  

Because they weren’t even friends then, and what business did he have being so nice -?

“It might hurt,” Roy whispered before dabbing the damp gauze pad on her wound.

Hydrogen peroxide on open wounds, of course, stung like hell. But for every wince, every grimace, he’d responded with a soft apology, whispering soothing platitudes as he worked on the gaping wound meticulously to avoid causing her further pain.

It was the first time Riza had felt a touch so tender and kind.

Even then, his compassion hadn’t stopped there. After he was done with the bandages he had practically ordered her to bed and appointed himself as head chef despite her objections.

“You can’t be moving around like that,” he said, ushering her into her room while lending his shoulder for support. He had helped her - much to her abashment, and much to his amusement - onto her bed, before commanding her to stay put while he prepared dinner. She obliged reluctantly, fiddling with her blanket while waiting for him.

Not too long after, he came back with a bowl of hot stew and a delighted, affable smile.

“Thank you, Mister Mustang,” she said shyly.

Roy frowned. “Please don’t call me that. Just… just call me Roy?”

She politely refused, telling him that it would be terribly inappropriate to do so, but something between them had changed. Any tension that might have existed previously was beginning to dissolve, and Riza was starting to treat him less like the plague.

Sensing this, Roy continued to stay by her side despite her proverbial disinclination for small talk, hoping to finally befriend the introverted blonde.

Over dinner, then, he’d regaled her with tales of his unfortunate misadventures with alchemy when he first started out and silly jokes that he often made with his sisters. In turn, she had reciprocated with reserved laughters and hunting mishaps of her own and a budding trust.

In the end, the injury became an insignia of when her loneliness ended, and when their friendship started.

ii.

Then, of course, there were the scars on her back that contained deadly secrets, prolix poems and meaningless apologies. To an alchemist, the intricate, complex array might have been beautiful. A transfiguration of sorts, even.  

To Riza, though, it was nothing but disfiguration in its purest, most unadulterated form. Engraved within were memories of pain and abuse and estrangement, and she would have honestly appreciated being able to live without a daily reminder of those.

He had known he was dying, even before Roy returned from the military, and had called this his parting gift. To her, to an apprentice worthy of its power, to the world. Donatio mortis causa.  

Riza thought it was the furthest thing from a present - it was her father’s curse to her, and it would haunt her even after his death.

And when he’d finally passed… Riza had been terrified to show it to Roy.

It wasn’t so much that she didn’t trust him, but - would anger consume him at the realisation that her father had done this to her? God forbid - would he think of her as ugly, marred? Would he still think of her as desirable?

But he was the chosen one; the one that her father had deemed worthy of learning flame alchemy. Ultimately, her desire to assist his goals, his wonderful dreams and ambitions for the future and for the country had outweighed whatever trivialities that might have deterred her from doing so.

With trembling hands, thus, she had unbuttoned her cardigan to reveal the array to him. He’d been speechless. There was a silence that lingered in the thin, dusty air of the Hawkeye manor, but before it could persist he had crossed the distance between them in two long strides.

“Riza,” he whispered. Her hands weren’t the only ones trembling - his hands were, too. She felt it when he rested them on the planes on her back, tracing the grooves of her spine reverently, affectionately.

The trembling hadn’t stopped even when he circled his arms around her waist to bring her into a warm embrace. He had whispered apologies onto her shoulder, then. Blamed himself for not being there to stop his teacher, her father, from doing this to her, for leaving her alone to deal with this. It was a sincere apology, unlike the ones inscribed onto her skin.

Suddenly, the weight on her back had felt a little lighter - perhaps from a burden shared, or from his sweet reassurances.

Either way, Riza remembers it as the night where her trust in him had developed into full bloom.

iii.

Eventually, though, Riza comes to learn that psychological wounds ached more than physical ones. The latter was temporary, but the former - hell, they were indelible, inescapable. This much was heavily reinforced, at least, by the horrors of war that they had encountered during their time in Ishval.

She’d told her superior officer that a gun was good, because it didn’t leave the feeling of a person dying in her hands. It was a partial lie. One that she was willing to let slip from her mouth placidly if it meant that she could be by his side and utilise her gun as a tool for protection, rather than murder and war and genocide.

Because no matter how much she scrubbed her hands after in the sink, she realised that she could never wash away the red on her hands. While the distance between her and her unfortunate victims meant that blood had never fallen on her hands, the entire experience had stained her soul a deep crimson.

It warped her heart; her conscience and morality, and it was a burden that she - no, they - would carry to their graves.

Nonetheless, Riza finds herself sending a short prayer of thanks to any god willing to hear from a wretched sinner like her as she stares at Roy’s peaceful sleeping form. Dreamless slumbers like these were uncommon for the Flame Alchemist, the Hero of Ishval, but it seemed like they were getting increasingly frequent as they progressed along further with the project after the Promised Day.

(Of course, neither of them had come to forgive themselves entirely. They probably never would - for their burdens and sins and iniquities still remained, and would linger on to their very last breaths.)

But their work of atonement and reparation had assuaged their consciences somewhat, even if only marginally. Roy, most of all, deserved this brief respite. He’d been working himself to the bone ever since he regained his vision, and she found herself having to play the role of babysitter less and less.

Riza allows a subtle smile to cross her stern features as she drapes his coat over his tired frame before returning to her paperwork.

iv.

After the war came the burns on her back. They’re splattered across her upper back in irregular splotches of pink; etched with guilt and reluctance and self-reproach.

To say that asking Roy to burn her back was difficult would be a gross understatement. He had already endured enough, and to ask him to use the power bestowed upon him to burn even more skin was akin to putting him through another round of purgatory.

Riza was disinclined to repeat his suffering, but she needed it. Desperately. She couldn’t bear the thought of creating another Flame Alchemist, and the array was literally a back-breaking burden. She’d begged him once, twice before he relented. Very unwillingly.

They’d gone back together to Tobha to do it, back to the now-decrepit Hawkeye estate that held an eerie resemblance to a haunted mansion. In some ways, it was poetically fitting - ending it where it had first begun. The estate bore apparitions of their innocence, their childhood memories, but now it would bear the ghost of flame alchemy as well.

Riza came to learn, then, that whatever she’d conceived of as pain from having hydrogen peroxide dab at an open wound paled in comparison to fire searing her skin. It took all of her willpower to not scream, but she withheld the urge to do so. Even if it meant biting her lips, digging her nails into her palms until they bled.

Like he had once done when they were children, Roy was quick to come to her aid. He came with water ice-cold and embraces lovingly-warm; painkillers and repeated apologies and constant reassurances.

Riza manages to respond to all of this with reminders of forgiveness through her pain. Because for the first time since the needle had met her skin, since the war, she’d felt free. Liberated.

Libera me.  

Roy had allowed her to be Riza Hawkeye - her own person, her own being - instead of just the bearer of a lethal, fatal secret that could kill thousands. Despite how much it pained them both to burn her back, she's never been more grateful.

Had she murmured her thanks, her apologies? Riza’s not quite sure. The memories after are a blur. She only remembers passing out in Roy’s arms and the tender, apologetic kiss on her forehead before unconsciousness had dawned upon her like a comforting blanket to stave away the unbearable pain.

The cold water falling on her skin in the shower reminds her of his warmth after the flames had died down. Riza can’t help but laugh slightly at the distant memory.

It’s ironic - Roy lives up to his moniker for reasons more than one.

v. / vi.

But none of the scars she’s sustained throughout her life can compare to the ones they’d gotten from The Promised Day.

The only comfort through all the hell they had endured was probably the fact that they were now lumped together in the same hospital room. Nonetheless, the quiet solitude of night-time is filled with unspoken apologies and unshed tears. It’s unbearable. Roy can feel the guilt radiating off every fibre of her being despite his blindness, despite the distance separating them -

- and so he orders his subordinate to come over.

Hesitantly, Riza complies. She crawls into his bed cautiously, careful not to jostle the wounds on his hands. They mark her failure. Roy was nearly killed before her very eyes, and she’d been powerless to stop it as the sword pierced through his palms. She wants to cry, wants to wail out loud and mourn for his loss of sight, for how useless she had been in the face of it all -

- but her vocal cords are strained. The only thing that escapes her throat is a soundless sob. Riza forces herself to hold in her tears - you don’t deserve to cry, no, stop - but Roy knows. He knows her like the back of his hand, and so even if she’s temporarily mute he can already hear what she’s going to say; even if he’s blind he can see the tears beginning to glimmer in her ochre eyes.

With a bandaged hand he carefully finds her face and caresses it tenderly. “It’s not your fault, Riza,” he whispers.

There’s a wetness to her cheeks now, like it’s raining. “Please don’t blame yourself,” he murmurs. “If anything, all the fault’s mine.”

As if to reinforce his point, his fingers make their way down - to her jaw, and then to the dressing on her neck. A sigh escapes his lips as he traces the scar underneath, remorse and regret dripping from his fingertips. 

“No -” Riza croaks. Not your fault, Roy.  

“If it’s not my fault, then how could it ever be yours?”

She’s silent again. There’s so much she wants to say - I’m so sorry, Roy, I should have been there, should have done something, can you ever forgive me, I was so afraid to lose you - but the wound renders it impossible.

Regardless, they’ve always had a knack for understanding each other, even without words or eye signals.

He searches for her face again, using it to guide his lips to her forehead. “Not your fault,” Roy says once more for added emphasis. His voice is louder than a whisper this time. It’s filled with conviction and relief and affection, and in their close proximity he can’t help but press a chaste kiss on her messy fringe.

“I was so afraid of losing you, Riza. Nothing scared me more than seeing you bleed on the ground, watching you almost… almost dying.”

They’re both crying uncontrollably now.

“But you’re alive, and that’s all that matters. I might never get my sight back, but I have the Hawk’s Eye with me,” he manages to quip through his sobs. “With you by my side, I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine, Riza. As long as we’re together.”

Riza manages a slight nod under his chapped lips, before reaching for his hand to place a gentle kiss on it. It’s a soothing salve to the dull ache underneath and a promise, a vow. I’ll always be with you, Roy.  

Roy retracts his hand to wrap his arms around her, pulling her body to his chest in a tight, haphazard embrace. Riza feels his heart beating against hers, all life and strength and fervor, and she thinks he’s right.

“We’ll be alright, Riza. I promise.”

[crazyfreckledginger]

Ikemen Sengoku x Reader - “Criminal Masterminds” [Part 12]

In a world where the most powerful are the greediest, everyone has to fend for themselves. The rich stay hidden, normal citizens live their lives, unbeknownst to all the lies and secrets the most dangerous firms keep locked away. When a mercenary is sent to retrieve valuable information that is also searched for by the Oda forces and Takeda-Uesugi, paths cross, dilemmas arise, love, morals and important decisions become a threat.

A/N: I know, I know, it’s been a whiiiiiile but I’m trying to get back into the 

The shift of weight on her chest woke her up. The furball on her collarbone mewled cutely as it wobbled on her stomach, to her lap and on the soft cushion of the couch. 

Rubbing her eyes open, she scratched the kitty’s neck before standing up. Happily, it followed her to the kitchen, meowing excitedly as it watched her pour her favourite food in a bowl. 

“Here baby,” placing it on the floor in its usual spot, the woman eyed the cat, making sure it was eating, before going to wash her hands and preparing her own breakfast. 

When it was done, she sat down, munching away, the news displayed on the TV.

It always came as an afterthought, everytime she switched the television on, she could easily picture the company in the midst of a ‘scandal’ or having the police involved. There is only so much a few corrupted government officials can do to keep their...practice covered up.

If that ever happened, she would feel pressure and relief at the same time. The possibility still lingered in her mind, “what will happen when they know who the rat is?” 

Snapping her out of her dread, her phone vibrated on the counter. Picking it up, she understood that it was a reminder for a text message that was sent late in the evening -- or early in the morning. 

It was a message from Mitsuhide? With a picture attached. It was from a security camera.

It seemed to depict the all too familiar asshole along with a person that she might have only seen a few times, but was very much engraved in her memory. 

The scar travelling across the man’s face told her his identity and that he was very bad business. 

Since keeping no secrets was a must, (Y/N) decided to call the kitsune, knowing that now, the strange man that had come creepily forward to her, was much more involved than she thought.

“Miss us already little mouse?” he teased on the other line.

“The guy in the picture you sent me, I’ve seen him before.” the woman went straight to the point. Her eyes glanced at her cat that jumped on the chair and onto the table, stretching before laying close to her. Finished eating already?

“How?” he inquired, his tone becoming cold.

“Usual coffee shop stop, I bumped into him, he said the sketchiest thing.” the (H/C) haired clarified.

“What did he say?” 

“Something about actions having consequences? Trippy and very cliche, I didn’t think anything of it at the time but after seeing the scar again, I thought I should call you to let you know, no secrets remember?” her tone wavered, wanting to make sure they were sharing everything on their end as well.

“Call you back.” The call ended. 

Right, the sixty second window. Moments later, the snake called back. 

“So?” 

“It’s a long story for some other time, little mouse, but he has been off the grid, plotting to kill our lord.” 

Well that’s not good!

“What are we going to do?” 

“We’ll keep the information we’ve already collected into our archives until further notice, we need to make sure we both stay clean, this team up is problematic. We’re sending one of our own your way, since he’s been keeping an eye on you, you’re not safe, especially if those two team up together. They’ll be a nuisance.” 

“Nuisance is an understatement.” she breathed out, “who are you sending?” 

“Don’t worry about it, he’s nice and friendly, we made sure to keep him unknown, there is no way anyone could know that he works for us.” 

“What am I supposed to say if they see me walking around with someone they’ve never seen before?” she frowned.

“You organise your own missions don’t you?” the call hung up once again.

“This man I swear,” a sigh escaped her as she finished her breakfast. 

The morning ended fairly quickly and (Y/N) was scanning around a world map along with a few news sites open.

I should have started doing this earlier…

Since everyone was one step closer to unveiling chaos, the woman needed to make preparations in case she needed to go to another country, change her identity and stay off the radar.

Sure it was always an option, she had thought about it extensively, but they taught her how to do what she does, they know her pattern better than anyone else. Even if they didn’t would she really want to live like a hunted sheep for the rest of her life? Definitely not.

The doorbell rang and she jumped out of her skin, rushing to cover everything up and hide it away. Cautiously, she walked towards the door, heart thumping in her ears, who could it be? 

It couldn’t be Nobunaga, they were too busy at work, if it was Rei or that stupid Jayden, she would have as well pulled out a gun right then and there. 

“Who is it?” she peeked around the corner. The woman had to take a second to gulp, purple, pinkish hair, not the biggest build. Only questions marks.

“Are you (Y/N)?” the man asked politely. 

“Who is asking?” she avoided the question. Innocently, he pulled out his phone, dialled a number and placed it against the door.

“Open the door up, don’t be mean lass.” 

Rolling her eyes, she breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, they literally talked about it this morning. Planning an escape must have put her more on the alert than she thought.

“I’m so sorry.” she bowed, apologising as she opened the door.

“Not at all, I understand Lady (Y/N).” he beamed widely.

“What’s your name?” the girl raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, my name is Ranmaru, I’m here to keep you safe! Although I’ve learned that you don’t really need protection but my lord is worried about you.” he rambled cutely.

“Worried?” The shock was written all over her face.

“Yes, worried because- oh is that a kitty!” 

This could go in two very different directions.

Comments, votes and feedback improve motivation, writing and publishing, so it is in your best interest to leave some! :)  

Want to be tagged? Let me know in whichever way you are the most comfortable with!

Tagging: @lumifuer @ijustwantmyshipstobehappy @plethora-of-things @xlatinaaxx @lostnliterature @batette @schweeeppess @gearsinice @mizmahlia @tina8009 @alex--awesome--22 @disa @caswinchester2000 @datemasamunemaiwaifu @mitsuhidethesnek @swordsmanofsweets @jadaninerowena @izra-k @cailannuesugi @towa-no-yume  @tinylittlehell​@ikemencrossedmyth @ozziegrl71 @fo-love @thesirenwashere @nad-zeta@max7500 @pon-ee-reblogs@datemasamunemaiwaifu​

[hyunnielix]

Fake Smile

During the current unsolved case, Y/N mysteriously vanishes forcing David to chose which is more important. 

Pairing: Y/N x Detective Loki

Warnings: Prisoners Spoilers!, ANGST!, Fluff, Backstory?, Timeskips, kinda AU

Word Count: 2.2k

I won't say I'm feeling fine After what I been through, I can't lie Fuck a fake smile

You vividly remember the time he caught your eye, his darkened slicked back hair and distinctive warped version of a star tattoed on his neck that was nearly always covered by the collar of the shirts he wore. His build was somewhat muscular but complimented his height and he radiated dominance in his mannerisms. You observed his nervous facial tic which was yet another thing that interested you. His demeanour held something that drew you to gravitate towards him, curiosity and questions lingered in the back of your mind every time you saw him. 

Luckily for you, he regularly visited the little Chinese restaurant you worked at, unfortunately, you usually had the day shifts meaning Mei your friend and co-worker served him during the night shifts.

“Y/N, it wouldn’t be a bother if you could possibly do the rest of the night shift tonight?” the raven-haired waitress called out as she began to hang up her apron, throwing her head over her shoulder with her brows furrowed awaiting your verbal response.

“I get it you have a family here, I understand it’s no problem,” You reassured her, your lips upturning into a weak smile as she mouthed many ‘thank you’s’ before collecting her bag and exiting through the doors and into the typical depressing weather of Pensylvania. The rain pattering against the windows was somehow relaxing, a nice contrast compared to the chaotic noise of the restaurant during the day.

The ear piercing ring of the irritating bell signalled the entrance of another customer, poking your head around the corner you tried to prevent a smile as you realised it was him.

“It’s on the house,” You murmured as you placed the last plate decorated with a cheesy fortune cookie on the white marble table in front of him.

“No one deserves to be alone on Thanksgiving,” You commented, leaning on one of the metal chairs as you peered down at the male who seemed to always captivate you.

“You are,” He observed, bringing the coffee cup up to his lips as his bright blue eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but take notice of the dark rings under them causing you to let out a sigh.

“Don’t have any family around these parts, I’m used to being alone doesn’t bother me really,” You responded a bit too quickly covering it up with a smile as he nodded, fascinated by your forwardness.

“Y/N,” You stuck your hand out, you’d noticed he wasn’t a big fan of physical affection so this would have to do for now.

“David,” He replied, his voice monotone as he pressed his lips into a line, gripping your hand shaking it politely.

Since then a friendship had blossomed between the both of you, always looking out for each other as if was like second nature and instinct.

The town had dubbed him the best detective for the sole reason of every case he had been assigned he’d closed. Although his occupation originally intrigued you, it was an outlet for his frustrations and internal demons, the violence you’d witnessed firsthand had frightened you to the core. It was almost as if Detective Loki and David were two entirely different entities altogether.

The new case he had been assigned was taking a toll on his physical and mental health, although he wouldn’t like to admit it he had a soft spot for children.

“Bob Taylor fucking killed himself under my surveillance,” The words fell off his tongue like venom as he paced around the living room, he was beyond stressed as you noticed his double blinking became more prominent when he was in a state like this.

“How did he do that, I thought he was in custody?” You questioned, tilting your head in confusion as you leant against the wall, arms folded over one another as you intently listened.

“It was my fault,” He admitted, shaking his head almost in disbelief before running his fingers through his longer slicked back hair in a defeated notion.

“All my fucking fault because my anger bested me and now those little girls are going to die because of me,” He raised his voice to the point that you were flinching from the harshness of his tone as he stood in front of you.

“You couldn’t have known the outcome stop being so hard on yourself, you can’t save everyone.” You tried to convince him reaching out for his shoulder, frowning at his self-hating tendencies.

“Who else do I blame,” He snapped, his fist colliding into the all just mere centimetres from your face causing your breath to hitch. Letting out shallow exhales, you began to feel your eyes water unsure of how to handle his aggressive outburst.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to-,” He profusely apologized shakily bringing his fist up to his mouth and cursing quietly under his breath turning around, you were the last person he’d want to scare away.

“C’mere,” You whispered softly enough for him to hear you, he turned his body to face you, his eyes glued to the ground as his chin trembled. Cupping under the side of his jaw, you brushed your thumb against his cheek trying to calm him down.

You wrapped your arms around his torso holding his body closer to yours, resting your hand on the back of his head comfortingly. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. You felt warm liquid dripping onto your shoulder, hearing the soft whimpers that left his lips completely broke you. You knew he was hurting and had trouble expressing his emotions but it’d never been this severe before.

“It’s going to be okay, you’ll figure it out you always do,” You reassured him as he pulled away, covering his face with the palms of his hands to recollect himself.

“But what If I don’t?” He asked, rendering you speechless as you tried to respond optimistically which was proving to be a harder task than usual.

A ringtone caught the attention of both of you, giving him a small nod dismissing him he quickly bolted out of the corridor and front door eventually towards his black car, phone held up to his ear in the process.

The last encounter you had with him was three days ago, you knew the vulnerability he showed you embarrassed him and the fact you brought that out in him terrified him. From what you could tell he was burying himself deeper in the case to avoid you which you didn’t blame him for.

They’d found one of the girls, Joy Birch but the Dover family’s daughter Anna was still reported missing according to the morning news you’d just happened to turn on coincidentally at the right time.

A weak knock on the door disturbed your concentration and train of thought as you mixed the tea mindlessly in a ceramic cup, placing the metallic spoon on the counter of the kitchen you strode towards the door hoping like hell it was David.

“Holly!” You were surprised to see the rather old woman as you opened the door, her frizzy grey hair and magnified glasses were her defining features that were prominently engraved into your mind, perks of having her as a neighbour.

“Y/N, sorry to intrude I just wanted to ask you a few questions about Alex,” She inquired, pushing her glasses up further on the bridge of her nose a sickly sweet almost fake-looking smile plastered on her face.

“Uh- Sure Ms, Jones,” You stuttered allowing her to pass you, closing the door after she’d walked in you felt a hard metal sensation at the back of your head realising it was the barrel of a gun you froze.

“It’ll hurt less if you don't move,” She explained, Sinking down onto your knees as you obeyed her non-verbal commands, she brushed your hair to the side exposing your neck.

“This should be just enough to knock you out,” She murmured as you saw the small syringe she was holding out of the corner of your eye. Dropping the gun she held your head in a lock position, injecting the black unidentifiable liquid into your bloodstream. 

A feeling of nausea overtook your body, causing your eyelids to flutter shut against your will body crumbling into a heap on the ground.

“You’re too personally involved in this case detective, I think you need to sit on the sidelines for a while,” The chief explained lifting a glass to his mouth that was filled with a dark auburn liquid that could only be the distinctive alcoholic beverage whiskey due to its infiltrating smell, offering one to him as a polite gesture.

“No, sir you don’t fucking understand,” David cursed, standing up from out of the seat and towering his height over the chief intimidatingly, causing him to place down the second glass of poison for your liver. 

“I will not stop until I find her, now are you willing to deploy your best officers or not?” He questioned rather confrontationally, pointing this finger onto the desk repeatedly to get the message across as he resisted the urge to blink again.

“Just be sure the little girl doesn’t get killed in doing so that’s if she’s still alive.” The chief taunted him, dismissing the detective from the short meeting that ended on a bittersweet note.

Dreading the information he had to give to Holly about her nephew Alex, he reiterated and rehearsed the particular words he was going to use as he reached the front door of the familiar house.

The iridescent moonlight that shone down momentarily distracted him from the fact that it was almost too quiet as he scanned his eyes around the property hesitating before deciding to press the doorbell, the obnoxious ringing of it almost deafening with the silence originally surrounding him.

Listening intently, what he could deduct as rustling around and movement in the house began to interest him more than it should.

“Miss Jones? You in there? He began to speak, voice starting off strong but ending in a whisper as he pushed the front door open easily, causing his suspicion to triple. A brief and almost faint noise that sounded remarkably like someone crying fully caught his attention.

“David! We’re in here,” You screamed muffled by the piece of cloth Holly had stuffed in your mouth, fighting against your gag reflex every time you attempted to open your mouth as warm liquid continually streaked down your cheeks unable to rid the shock out of your system.

“You little bitch,” Holly exclaimed referring to you, rushing to inject more of the deadly poison into the little lifeless girl's body beside you before yours.

Your eyes widened as your gaze fell on his shadow that seemed to be approaching the room silently, hearing a small exhale which you could only guess was him, he stepped into the doorway gun at the ready while his eyes focused on the scene unravelling before him. 

”Stop, put it down!” He ordered, gun outstretched and pointed in her direction as she pulled out the half-emptied syringe and released her grasp on it, the small syringe collided with the floor causing a tiny clang.

“Make sure they cremate me. I don’t want to be buried in some box,” She commented, her gaze focused on yours a wicked smirk plastered on her face as she straightened up, still facing you. 

”Turn around, show me your hands,” His tone was dead serious, adrenaline pumping through his system as he waited. Your eyes widened as you realised she was reaching in her pocket for the gun she threatened you with earlier.

“I will shoot her,” Holly threatened, pointing the gun at your head. The sound of guns firing sent electrical shocks through your body, eyes clenched shut as a bullet buried itself in the wooden planks beside you. What sounded like a body hitting the ground prompted you to open them.

“Requesting backup to the Jones's house,” He muttered, momentarily forgetting the address which caused him to curse as he ambled towards you, he’d been hit slightly grazed by the bullet causing a crimson substance to trickle down his face temporarily stunting his vision.

“Shh, sweetheart it’s okay I’m here now,” He dropped to his knees, removing the piece of cloth that was holding back your choked sobs before he wrapped his arms around you. You leant into his touch resting your forehead on his shoulder as he began to help you breathe properly. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, your crying stopped.

“You’re bleeding, fuck,” He exclaimed as he brought his hand down to your lower abdomen watching your face contort with pain as you struggled to speak, nodding instead in response to his observation.

“So are you,” You weakly replied attempting to wipe away some of the crimson substance streaking down his cheek while slumping back against the wall.

“Now take Anna and get her to the hospital, she’s not going to last,” You ordered, glancing at the lifeless child with worry, unsure of the specifics of what Holly had injected her with.

“What about you?” He questioned, face painted with concern as his brows furrowed while you tried to convince him to leave and potentially save the girls life.

“I’ll be fine, you requested backup remember?” 

[talkoverfrenchfries]

That’s exploration

Here’s another one. I was already making posts and figured to add another to the series while I’m here. Also, this part might be important for getting more invested into the story and my OC. Again, any characters other than my OC as well as the settings and such belongs already to Vivziepop or Vivienne Medrano!

-----

Zu was walking down the halls, taking in details of the wallpaper and furniture and pictures and other kinds of decor. He was entertained immensely taking in details of the place on his. All the craze from coming here at first have died down.

It was certainly something, avoiding Charlie’s straightforward, even almost pushy niceness, Vaggie’s tense and skeptical aggressiveness, Alastor’s cheerful torture, and Angel Dust’s rather persistent flirting.

Zu stopped moving when thinking of the last one. Then he shakes those thoughts away. Sure, Angel Dust is very attractive but it’s gonna take more than that for anything to happen. Although, he’s probably how Zu is still here. On the bright side, Alastor hasn’t really bothered Zu since that encounter.

However, before Zu can think more about it, he noticed something that grabbed his attention. He gasped, having noticed a trestle coffee table in one of the rooms. He crouches down, touching the engraving as he muttered stuff to himself.

“This is great engravings, all the hands and apples and snakes, it’s all very tasteful. Of course, the history of the medium of wood engraving evolved from the oldest printing technique, woodcut—which, in Western culture, goes back to the fifteenth century. This ought to be a huge wood block to make this coffee table. After all, a wood block is cut from a smoothed plank cut longitudinally from the tree trunk so that the grain runs in parallel lines to the block. Once the design has been established by cutting away the wood around the areas that will be printed, the block is inked with a small roller called a brayer. To print the block, a moistened piece of paper is placed on top of the block, along with a protective layer, called the tympan, and then put through the printing press. Alternately, a circular tool called a baren or even a spoon or the palm of the hand can be used to create enough pressure to print the inked block. Is this how the coffee table was made, though? Or was a different process used? How many kinds of wood engraving is there? Man, I have to look it up.”

“Hi! I’m Nifty! You’re weird and boring! You should probably stop with the fact spewing to get a girlfriend, no offense.”

Zu jolts out of surprise and turns to the new voice that just popped out of nowhere. Nifty was standing right there in her fifties attire and a big smile on her face. Two things about her surprised Zu more once the latter took in more of the sight of Nifty in front of him. The two things were Nifty’s petite size and the one eye right above her smile. Although, Zu got past the one eye pretty quick. It is a rather common sight to see on people down here in hell.

Then Zu realized what Nifty had said and got a little bummed out. He’s gotten used to being called boring but he never learned to like it.

Zu opened his mouth, wanting to insist that knowledge itself is never boring. However, Nifty swiftly proceeded to cleaning the coffee table that made Zu go on about some of the history of wood engraving. Just as quickly as Nifty started cleaning, she already finished and had left the room.

Zu let out a sigh of slight frustration. Then he says “of course, enthusiasm for the wood block in Europe in the sixteenth century. But it did get revived again in the nineteenth century. Hopefully, people will eventually get interested in learning things like how I do.”

Then Zu, placing a hand on the coffee table, helped himself up from the floor. Zu decided next to open a backpack that has the same design as carpet found in an arcade you’d see should you walk into one during the 80′s. He rummaged through it until he takes out a chocolate bar. Zu zipped his backpack closed, opened the bar wrapping, and takes a huge bite into it.

The sugary goodness and the taste only chocolate can have was enough to make Zu crack a smile. He continued on his way, wanting to take more of the hotel in his sight.

Zu was slightly happier here than anywhere else. If only because there’s not a lot of people here. That means there’s not a lot of bitches and douchebags to deal with. Zu thinks that maybe it’d be okay to hang out here. Charlie’s not so bad. Hopefully, her girlfriend wouldn’t be so bad; she just needs some warming up too. Although, Alastor is the biggest problem and the biggest reason to not check into the hotel.

Zu walks to the front desk and see someone there drinking bottle after bottle. He was a cat-demon with big, bright red wings. He also seemed disinterested as Zu approached the front desk. He wonders what kind of personality this perpetual drinker has. It’s important information to know in whether or not to check in. Granted, Alastor will highly likely be enough reason not to but Zu couldn’t combat well against his curiosity.

So Zu says “hi, there,” as he raises his hand and put it down, clearly some kind of waving gesture intended.

The only kind of reaction the cat-demon gave was pointing his line of sight towards Zu. Then the cat-demon resumed drinking. Zu had mixed feelings, being happy knowing that he might have trouble with the desk guy if he leaves him alone but upset because he never liked being ignored. Zu takes a deep breath and turned around.

I just have to get used to that. If I decide to stay, that is. I think I met everyone who’s in the hotel regularly. So let’s weigh pros and cons.

Zu sits down in a couch in the next room and thinks it over.

Benefits would be interacting with the nicest person I ever encountered in hell. Charlie may be a little much at times but she’s still someone I can definitely call my friends. The others are more okay than others, as much as they’re still jerkish. Now cons -

That’s when Alastor popped in his mind. The tour he gave Zu invoked powerful feelings of avoidance in him.

Damn, it really is hell here. Gotta put up with a shit ton of crap just get a smidge of pleasantness.

Zu was thinking hard that he didn’t notice someone sitting next to him. It wasn’t until he was being touched on the thigh that he noticed. Of course, it also made Zu almost jump off the couch.

It certainly made Angel Dust laugh, the person who had sat down on the couch. “You know, you’re cute when you’re a hopeless dork. You should consider yourself lucky.”

Oh shit, Angel Dust is still interested in me. If I’m right, then he’s interested in only one thing but I can’t give it

Still, Zu sat back properly on the couch, while muttering, “thanks.”

Zu put a little distance between him and Angel Dust on the couch but the latter quickly closed it. The look on his face showed his interest very clearly. Zu tried hard not to look at him while keeping an eye out for hands. He jolted when Angel Dust spoke, apparently being surprised by the talking.

“You know, this hotel may not be much but this place can still be pretty fun. How about you let me show you?”

Zu thought that Angel Dust might be another reason to stay. That way, he can witness how beautiful and alluring Angel Dust looks without it seeming as creepy. At least, not as creepy as it would be if Zu didn’t check into the hotel. However, not wanting to see Angel Dust’s disappointment was another reason to not check in.

Zu felt like he was gonna freak when he saw one of Angel Dust’s hands head towards his thigh again. Then there was an explosion in the distance. Zu felt curious about it and got up, heading outside. He didn’t notice Angel Dust’s expression of disappointment over his flirting seemed to have immediately been forgotten.

Still, Angel Dust follows Zu, somewhat curious over the explosion himself. Not to mention, he intends to hopefully hook up with Zu someplace outside the hotel, since he’s following Zu and everything.

Zu saw in the distance a random terrorist throwing bombs everywhere. He debates whether or not doing something about it. On one hand, Charlie lives in the hotel and so Zu would want to protect the place. On the other hand, Alastor is there and, maybe, if the place is wrecked, Alastor will go elsewhere.

As Zu was standing there and trying to decide what to do, there was a flash of white and pink going by him. Zu had noticed that and saw Angel Dust running towards the terrorist with guns ablaze.

There was a bit of a fight between Angel Dust and the terrorist. Zu was in awe in what he saw. Angel Dust was just standing there firing off his gun the whole time, nonchalantly dodging the bombs. Angel Dust managed to get some good shots in, enough to render the terrorist immobile. The whole time, Zu thought that Angel Dust seemed chaotic and powerful, adding more to the beauty the latter already had.

Zu was standing there as Angel Dust walked back, walking a kind of power walk as he held his guns over his shoulders with one pair of arms and the other pair of arms resting its hands on his hips.

“At least now we don’t have to worry about getting interrupted anymore. And this is where I’m crashing so I wouldn’t want some dipshit wrecking it. So,” Angel Dust said, as he tilted up Zu’s chin with one of his free hands, “where were we?”

“I’m checking in.”

That was all Zu said before wiggling his chin out of Angel Dust’s grasp and running back into the hotel and to the front desk where the cat demon was.

------

Also, the website link below is how I got the information I bothered getting about wood engravings. I also tried looking up different kind of woodcuts and engravings as well as designs of backpacks in the 80s and dialog and slang from the 40s. I hope I’m right. It’s way past 3 o’clock in the morning as I finished typing this and I’d like to go to bed sometime soon. My OC here is gonna be either tricky or insightful, if I’m using ‘insightful’ right.

https://museum.cornell.edu/exhibitions/end-grain-history-wood-engraving

[chim-chimmie]

Dancing with the Devil

CHAPTER 7: THE BONNIE & CLYDE CONCEPT

✧ pairing: jungkook x reader ft. taehyung

✧ genre: angst

✧ words: 7.5k

✧ description: being locked up with taehyung wasn’t half as bad, but being locked up with jungkook was pure hell.

✧ warnings: violence, weapons/guns, hostage !!!

prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven

“Well, it’s half as bad,” Taehyung exclaimed after nothing but silence filled the thick air, and the quiet snicker in his low tone was making you decide whether he was being serious or not.

You exhaled and once again inhaled deeply as if it took you all the strength in the world to start talking, but you weren’t even sure how to react. “Are you serious?” was the only thing you brought out in a tired voice.

Pulling your hands once again, you realized it was pointless now and there was no chance for your skin to be freed from the tight rope cutting in your wrists. And honestly, the more the both of you tried, the more the tie dug into your stomachs as well. You sighed, giving up officially as you leaned back your head against Taehyung’s. The sweat lingered between your backs, overflowing your bodies with it, making you two stick together like glue.

“Actually, no,” Taehyung answered in a deep breath.

You closed your eyes to at least blend out the small room you were in – grey, dusty, dirty and more over without any windows. You had always wondered how it must feel to be locked in such a room – you watched way too many crime shows – but now that you were one of them, you wanted nothing else but to escape. Why did you always have to be so god-damn curious? “Are we going to die?”

The man behind you now laughed out loud and almost rolled over, pulling harshly at the rope in your skin.

“Ouch, stop doing that!”

He immediately brought himself back up, calmed himself to at least a shy giggling and responded, “I’m sorry.” “Well? Are you laughing because you don’t want to face the truth of us dying inside of here?” you cocked up an eyebrow in annoyance now, even though he couldn’t see you, and underlined your question with arrogance.

Taehyung firmly answered, “No, I laugh because you do not know Jungkook very well as I do. He’ll get us out of here in a minute.” “I’m going to count then,” you divulged.

“Okay, I didn’t mean it literally. But do you know how often I was stuck in places like this? I’m not even afraid anymore.”

You snorted in high disbelief, this shouldn’t be something to be considered normal, was it? “Fucking hell, great for you. But I’m clearly not used to it.”

“Well,” he started and you could hear the exhaust in his voice, “when I started, I was all lonely and could help myself out of trouble somehow. But since I’m in Agma, I knew from the beginning I can trust Jungkook with everything I have.”

First, you frowned your eyebrows as his respond had no correlation with what you said. Of course, he had to make this about him and talk about his oh-so-brutal experiences. But as you started processing his answers, you knew this was your chance to bomb him with questions and more questions, because again, your curiosity needed to know everything. “Wait, what do you mean with when you started? Started what? And how long have you been with Jungkook? And how did you even get there? Was he like hiring people for stuff like that? I don’t get it.” “Woah there, that’s too many questions at once,” Taehyung chuckled and you were left breathless as you again asked way too much – things, to which you probably would never get any concrete answers like you wanted to. That’s what you got from being you.

So, you just wanted to let it be – just sit there and wait for the almighty Jungkook to get you out of here. You couldn’t lie, you were scared for life and that’s not exactly what you imagined yourself to get into. But slowly, your brained started processing what all of this meant, what it meant to be with that man, what Jungkook had been trying to tell you all the time. But it was too late now, the rush of excitement in your blood got it out of you as you were trying to avoid him but simply failed. You started understanding this way of living step by step, tapping in small puddles of water – but as you didn’t watch your steps accordingly, you fell into this deep and dark sea. And now? You needed to learn how to swim properly to keep your head out of the water.

Taehyung made notice of your silence way too quickly, so he added, “Look. I’m not someone to lie and say things you want to hear or soothes your heart. It’s not all flowers and sunshine, and I keep it realistic when it comes to serious things. So, if you seriously want to ask me about us, you better prepare yourself for some harsh truth.” You swallowed a big lump down your throat as it has been itching since day one you met Jungkook. Taehyung’s words weren’t harsh or rude, but they sure made your stomach tighten in a weird way. This was your chance to finally make the drought in your mouth stop, so you went for it. “I see… I appreciate that, really. I love honesty.” “Hah, that’s great,” the man cackled in a degrading way, “So?”

You let the disgusting air wash your lungs one more time and straight forward asked, “What exactly is your job?”

“External or internal?”

You frowned, “Is there a difference?”

“Well, would you kill a guest in the casino in front of everyone else’s eyes?”

Silence. The only thing you could hear was your breaths along your heart pounding, and pounding, and pounding… Second by second passed by slowly as ever, his question echoing through your brain. He did… what?

“Exactly, you wouldn’t. It does make a difference. For the face of the casino Agma, I am simply the controller. You know, things like taking care of events, organizing stuff, keeping the whole business going and keep all processes under control. For example, I also clear up fights between guests,” he told you like an open book and in that moment you were scared of the continuation of his answer.

But your ears perked up, all of your tiredness suddenly gone even though you could literally feel the long bags under your eyes. Your chest burning from the rush in your blood, your heart bouncing loudly still. “And… internal?”

“Hmm, a similar role. But there is a completely other business going on behind the scenes. Not always legal ones,” he paused then cackled, “Well, barely legal ones. And there are way more things going wrong, so I have to take care of that.” “Which includes killing?” you gulped, and you have never been more anxious about an answer.

Taehyung snickered at your innocent question. “Exactly, but only if I really have to. I don’t like doing it, honestly. Imagine, that person owes you five million dollars and we kill him. Five million gone, right?”

“Mhmm,” you murmured with widened eyes and nodded, trying to understand what he was talking about. “And what exactly is the business you do behind the scenes?”

“Ah, Y/N, you’re asking questions…” the man sighed in frustration and you were sure he was forbid to talk about that to any third-parties. What else would you have expected.

You shook your head, “No, I’m sorry. I’m just very curious, you don’t have to answer of course.”

“I mean, Chocolate is really attached to you, so I’m sure he’d tell you sooner or later anyways and-“

You had to interrupt him now, “Ch-chocolate?”

Taehyung laughed out shyly, “Oh yeah, that’s how we call Jungkook most of the times. Especially undercover.” “Why?” your mouth somehow formed a smile.

“Ah, we used to call him Kookie at first and we all know he loves cookies. And his favorite are the chocolate ones, plus he eats a lot of chocolate anyways. I don’t know, I think Jin called him that one day and since then, we all do it.” You didn’t know why exactly, but his answer made your heart warmer with every beat of it and every thought of Jungkook. You imagined how he’d react when you’d call him his favorite taste in the softest way you could. To be honest, it even fit him – chocolate, like his dark brown hair, his beautiful brownie eyes and his skin. Oh god, his warm and soft skin glowing in the perfect melanin, and sweet, sweet as chocolate. Chocolate, you grinned harder than before and made sure to engrave it in your head to use the nickname – hopefully – sometime soon.

“Anyways, what I wanted to say: I haven’t seen him like that in such a long time. He’s in a great dilemma because of you.”

Your lovely day-dreaming drained down in a second, and confused you asked, “Dilemma? Why that?”

“I mean,” Taehyung started but hesitated with a long pause, probably thinking about an answer, where he wouldn’t say too much. But he realized, there was no point in that. “He really likes you.” “And?” You couldn’t deny those words, those little four words, shot straight to your heart, having the biggest impact on it as it spread sparkles through your whole body. But you really weren’t satisfied with a little sentence as an answer.

“I can’t really remember the last time he talked about a woman non-stop. Mmh, maybe two years ago? Three? Something around that… Anyways, he really likes you but exactly that is the reason he doesn’t want you to be hurt. Aaand that is most likely going to happen, or has happened already. I mean, look where you are now. Women usually leave him after they realize what he does, or simply take him granted for his money. He didn’t know anything else than people constantly running away from him. He’s in the biggest confusion ever with you. Jungkook doesn’t want to lose you, but his actions are going to push you away sooner or later…”

Meanwhile, a tear rolled down your cheek, followed by another one. Your vision blurred out a little as you listened to Taehyung. You knew he must say the truth as he had known Jungkook for years for him to even say something like this. And it hurt, it really hurt, that’s why it must be honest. You didn’t cry because you got yourself in this position, but you cried because you could see yourself in him. People running away from you, people taking you for granted, you pushing people away, getting hurt all the time, not knowing what true love is… All the same. You always thought if you let yourself on a ride with any man ever again, it would happen all over again. That’s what you thought with Jungkook too, and that’s why you didn’t want to get to know him in the first place. But now you only realized, he was in the same position as you. The little game in the beginning, the push and pull, the seduction but the rejection. What started off as something meaningless and seemed small, turned into something huge so quickly, without realizing. Neither of you knew and that was it. For someone outstanding to watch this, of course, quickly processed what it was. So, Taehyung told you what he had to – he also only wanted the best for his friend.

“Are you crying, Y/N?” he now asked, turning his head but it wasn’t enough for him to see your reddened eyes.

You dried your skin on your shoulder, probably smearing all of your make-up and then answered, “S-sorry. I just fell in thoughts.”

“I told you about me being brutal honest, so don’t cry now,” Taehyung said and his soothing voice made his words sound less harsh than they actually were.

You now fought a little laugh, “I know, I know. It’s good to hear the truth, but I just realized he’s the same as me. And I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or not. I was used to get hurt, my partner was used to hurt without having any bad feelings. But I’m not sure what will come out if both people in a relationship are being used to get hurt.”

“Do you like him, Y/N?” Taehyung asked, lingering his fingers between yours, trying to hold them.

By your surprise, you felt relieved in that moment, to know you weren’t alone at all. You were sure he was a good person, even though he killed people, and so was Jungkook and the rest of his men. “I do, Taehyung, I do. But I am scared.”

He now squeezed your fingers, whispering, “Call me Tae. And see, you have mutual feelings. It’s all good.”

“But what if it doesn’t turn out good in the future?” you asked, fingers shaking and he stopped them.

“You’ll never know if you never try. Yeah, it’s a cliché saying, but it’s true. If you throw it away, you’ll always wonder what would’ve happened if…”

You exhaled the heavy air from your lungs and firmly nodded, “You’re right. But right now, I just wonder if Jungkook is fine.”

“What exactly happened there anyways?”

After explaining what exactly went wrong with the plan and how you were frozen watching Jungkook getting beaten up by his fiend. When you finished, the tight and warm grip around your fingers disappeared and you heard Taehyung swallow hard, his breath shaking. It wasn’t exactly the reaction you expected, but now you were even more worried than before. “Is everything okay, Tae?”

“Y-yeah, we’ll get out of here, d-don’t worry,” the man babbled, but when you felt his shivers running through you as well, you couldn’t really believe him.

You pushed your elbow softly into his body, whatever part it was, and starkly asked again, “Are you sure? You don’t sound very confident in your answer.”

Now he let out the loudest and most grunty sigh you had ever heard, and in a lower octave, he kept his answer the same, “I am sure. He’s probably locked up as well right now, but I think Jeehyung only got me, you and him. The rest had escaped, so they’ll come for us.”

You let your head sink low now, because you were tired at this point and didn’t have any other choice but to trust in his words. Only then, she crossed your thoughts and you had to take a deep breath. “That’s great, when you’re missing, and you know they’ll come and get you,” you flashed yourself a smile, a bright fake and tiring one.

“Huh, what? Something happened?” Taehyung now shot his back up, probably heard the sadness in your voice.

You pulled your knees up to you and leaned your forehead against it, every inch of your lower body hurting and pinching for whatever reason and you suddenly felt cold. There was that feeling in your throat again, where it all felt stuffed and narrow.

“Y/N?”

You opened your eyes only to look down at your dress, not so bright and shiny as it had been few hours ago – only darker and dustier. The cotton caught drops of your tears and as it was material of high quality, they dried very quickly. Everything seemed half as bad when you watched that, then you spoke up, “My best friend Hana. We live together and ever since she found out Jungkook is a criminal, she wanted me to stop seeing him, which I tried at first. But I couldn’t hesitate to help him when Yoongi came by and now I haven’t seen her ever since. I bet she doesn’t even care anymore. She’s probably so filled up with me.”

“Oh…” Taehyung whispered at your unexpected rant, then grabbed your hand again – warmth rushed through you and you felt so safe. “Haven’t you guys like texted or something? Didn’t you call each other?”

“Well, I tried reaching her multiple times with Jungkook’s phone but she didn’t pick up. She’s probably having the time of her life now without me always being a burden to her,” you wailed quietly.

Taehyung exhaled loudly, then stated as he was about to go off like the biggest drama ever happened, “Okay, that Hana is a bitch.”

You cackled a little at his answer and he immediately continued, “Listen, Y/N. We always think we are a burden to someone. But we definitely are not. Hana simply couldn’t handle you or Jungkook, she was too weak for something serious like that. I’m sure she’s someone who likes simple things without any big complications. And she needs to know life isn’t as easy and smooth as she thinks. Stupid things will happen, heart-wrecking stuff will occur, and if she is not there to handle it with you together, then let her be. Everybody needs at least one person, who will go through thickest and heaviest walls with you, and in that case, it clearly is not Hana.”

Your lips parted at this whole life advice Taehyung just gave you, but when you came to think of it, his words did make sense, they were true. “Wow, I mean… You’re totally right. But I always considered her as my best friend – since pre-school to be exact. If it’s not her, who then?”

“That is a question I cannot answer you. It’s your duty to go out, walk around, go on adventures and find out who will stick by your side. Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s Jungkook, maybe it’s even Jeehyung. Maybe it’s the son of our president. Maybe it’s a dog. But you have to step out to find out.”

You let his wise words wash through you and thought about it. It was a similar feeling Jungkook had been providing you all the time – the stepping out of the comfort zone, walking barefoot, exploring new things. You felt comfortable with not only Jungkook, but now with Taehyung too – well, of course not in the same intimate way. But you were so sure Agma was so much more behind the casino than only the illegal business. It was friendship, it was family, and you were finally starting to feel and recognize it. If Hana thought you’d get back home anytime soon, you could bet on everything you wouldn’t. Not before you found out about this world outside.

Your mouth widened in a grin, “Thank you, Tae. You’re so right.”

“Of course I am,” Taehyung laughed out only to break the tense and depressing air. “By the way, Jungkook is by far the least criminal out of us all.”

Before you could come to words, you only caught breath and then the heavy door got torn open and smacked the wall loudly, making you and Taehyung both jump up like scared cats. You looked to the side, seeing the grand outline of Jeehyung standing in the door frame and his loud cackling penetrated your ears. “Jungkook the least criminal? Shit, Taetae, you must be day-dreaming.”

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t even know him,” the man behind you hissed and pulled his body aggressively to the front, causing you to cough as the rope dug into your skin even deeper.

Jeehyung’s heavy steps tapped on the concrete floor and only turned louder and more unbearable the closer they got to you. He stopped right in front of you, but you didn’t dare one bit to look up to him, so you simply broke the gaze down to your knees while you watched them tremble as if they had a hurricane on their own inside them.

“We both know very well that I have known Kookie since we were children, Taetae, isn’t it?” his tone sunk the lowest it could, giving you goosebumps.

You literally felt his body hovering over Taehyung’s, and you thought the only thing you could hear right now was your heart whipping in angst. But you were very mistaken in fact, when you heard a sharp clang of a knife struck echo through the small room, piercing into your ears as if he had just directly cut into your ear-drums. You gasped, way too loud to your unfortunate, but Taehyung just snickered behind you. While you were heavily scared for life, the man was literally mocking this whole situation. What the hell was wrong with him?

Jeehyung’s breath now neared your shoulder and you trembled in your very own place, unable to move any inch or react at all. You were stuck under him, feared of this dark and large feature above you and when you felt his resting on your shoulder, your dry throat let out a small but very scratchy and significant cry. Taehyung grabbed your hands again and you held onto them as if it meant to hold for your dear life, but it didn’t help at all.

“Y/N, Y/N… Look at me, gorgeous,” he demanded in a very calm and generous tone to your surprise. “Breathe, breathe. I won’t kill you if you think that’s it. You just need to look me in the eyes now, will you?”

Your eyelashes twitched quickly to regain at least a little clear sight from all your tears before you collected all of your courage to lift your head and turn to his side. When you finally did, your irises shook from side to side, not knowing whether to look into his deadly eyes or any other part of his face that seemed less intimidating. He was unbelievably close, his warm breath brushing over your nose and cheeks, and the handsome face you had seen on Tinder suddenly disappeared. Not that he turned ugly, but somehow all of his beauty faded away in this very second. The bags under his eyes were dark and heavy, his face frowned and he seemed very angry in fact. Strands of his hair fell into his eyes, but he didn’t bother at all and the more you observed, the more you felt like you were staring into pure emptiness. Yes, that was it – he looked so empty and soulless. Heartless. Antipathy washed through you and you’d rather spit into his faced right now more than anything.

After a while of silencing and icing, Jeehyung’s lips moved to a small smirk, then he asked in the same soothing voice as before, “Do you want to see Kookie?”

“Yes!” you screamed from the bottom of your lungs and it took all your breath away at once. How could you even think of hesitating to answer this question. You didn’t even know in what condition he was, if he was okay, if he was hurt. You needed to see him yourself.

The man chuckled at your quick response and brought his long dirty fingers up to your face – to which you immediately flinched – pushing your hair behind your ears. The last thing you wanted was to be touched by him. “Then come with me,” he inquired with a grin, but there was so much evilness hidden behind it, you were so sure.

The next second, the knife swooshed through the air and stood still only inches away from your nose, right between you and him. You watched the metal now twist and turn in between his fingers, showing off tricks or whatever with it and your eyes couldn’t keep up with it. What was he up to now? The sharp object stood still again, Jeehyung’s hands didn’t even shake one bit, while you were drowning in a wild tsunami internally. What a contrast.

“Cool, right?” he asked, his eyes wandering along the length of the tool as if he was in love with it. Well, he probably was.

Were you supposed to seriously answer his question now? But before you could think rationally, you nodded fast, in hope he would simply accept your sincerity instead of cutting you or something. God, why was he holding you on the line for so long – all you wanted was to see Jungkook!

And before you could realize, he already lifted his knife and you could only follow the weak shimmer that was left as a trace in the air – then the rope between your and Taehyung’s body got cut off. Air filled your lungs and your stomach heaved up and down in final freedom. You thought Taehyung might jump up and attack Jeehyung now that he wasn’t tied to you anymore, but he stayed still. Although you were surprised at first, you knew there wasn’t much he could do with his hands still tied behind his back, so he stayed calm and of course trusted in Jungkook. But how was he supposed to get you two out of here when he was probably locked here too?

“C’mon,” Jeehyung said and in contrast to his soft voice, he gripped your arm harshly and pulled you up. Only now you realized how much your feet actually hurt and when you looked down, you still found your high heels on them. As the tall man was dragging you out of the room, you looked back to Taehyung, who mouthed ‘Be careful’ and you nodded firmly, kicking your painful shoes off your sore feet.

You stumbled behind Jeehyung, the callous and icy floor crawled in the skin of your bare feet and you were sure it wouldn’t take much longer until your muscles gave up. Only few seconds passed by until you reached another heavy door at the end of the dark and narrow hallway. You supposed this was a cellar or something – well, it certainly was your rock bottom now.

Without any words, the door creaked open and without any respect, you got pushed inside. Jeehyung followed with closing the door behind and realized this room was even smaller when he switched the light on. But what you noticed next, was the figure leaning against the wall – hands up high as they were tied with chains hanging from the ceiling. Your jaw dropped low and your eyes widened at the picture of him being in this position. But moreover, it felt like someone would nonchalantly punch into your chest.

“Y/N!” Jungkook fought to say as soon as he looked up at you.

Your lips trembled when you neared him, observing how his thighs trembled and his breath uneven. The snow-white suit jacket he had worn last night – last night? or was it only a few hours ago? – was thrown to the ground. His purple shirt was torn open to expose his stomach and chest, and only then you saw the stains all over it, as lilac as the cotton hanging from his torso was. You could only imagine what he must’ve gone through by swallowing Jeehyung’s punches and you wondered if there had been more by the time he was locked up in here. “Jungkook…”

“Sorry, your man had to take some more punches,” Jeehyung whispered as he grabbed your arm to pull you backwards to him. “I hope you don’t mind, it’s what he deserves.”

Jungkook observed how Jeehyung untied the rope from your wrists and oh, did he look mad. His eyes were glaring with so much hatred, but when his eyes fell into yours again, they softened. They were sad, filled with so much regret and apology, then he spoke, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I know you can never forgive me this.”

You gave him a light head-shake as an answer because nobody was at fault, really.

“God, you two make me want to throw up,” Jeehyung exclaimed, and pulled at your wrists even more aggressively now. Only now you realized your hands were freed, but not too long as you felt getting heavier stuff attached around your wrists. When you looked back, you saw that he was binding chains instead.

“Then puke,” you spat out, and now you were feeling much more hate than anxiety. In this room together with Jungkook, you suddenly felt energy rush in you, and you felt stronger than seconds ago. So, you were about to fight back, no matter if it only meant verbally.

Jeehyung mumbled in a smirk, “Hah, kinky.” Then dragged you a few inches further until you stood right in front of Jungkook, where only a hand could fit in between your bodies. You got lost into each other’s eyes, you blended out what the asshole was blurting about and more than that, you weren’t realizing what he was doing to you. You just let everything around you happen, while a tear flowed down your cheek – delighted and wretched you got to see Jungkook again. Delighted, because you were in his presence, alive. Wretched, because this horrible room, where you both were restrained, was the current setting.

“What the fuck are you doing! Let her go, Jeehyung!” Jungkook suddenly shouted as only now he awakened from the same trance as you and saw you as his mirror-picture – hands up high, chained, hanging from the ceiling. When reality hit you, you started shaking your arms, in hope you’d somehow slip out of the chains. But as Jeehyung only laughed at you in mockery, you comprehended you were done for good.

“Now, stay still,” Jeehyung demanded in a harsh attitude, “neither of you want to get killed, I suppose.”

He walked right to the side of the both of you and watched you, his grin sickening and evil. One knew how to possibly shut someone up with threatening and you had to give him that point. You didn’t want to die yet and neither did Jungkook – but if you compared yourself to him, you were more likely to be ice, frozen and unable to even move one inch. But he was the fire itself, his animosity burning inside of him and you wondered which point was needed to be reached until he’d flip tables.

“So, thank you for coming to this little party, my friends,” Jeehyung began and looked into this very small round before he continued his monologue, “I see you found your little Bonnie, Jungkook.”

“What fucking Bonnie are you talking about?” Jungkook hissed at the other man, gaining no reaction whatsoever.

“Don’t you know Bonnie and Clyde? That couple, which goes through crimes together and loves each other unconditionally. I mean, she isn’t the first one in this position here, right?” Jeehyung stated calmly, exchanging looks between the both of you in a friendly tone, as if he was waiting for a serious answer.

Anger slowly started building up in your gut and you couldn’t listen to his voice anymore, so you just fired back, “So what? I’m his Bonnie now, and? Why would that be your business?”

“It is my business indeed, because sooner or later he’s gonna get bored of you and will sell you to me,” he tilted his head in pure joy and you only opened your mouth in disbelief as you looked over to Jungkook again.

He firmly shook his head and defended himself, “I never sold any woman, Jeehyung, why are you saying this crap?”

Now Jeehyung started cackling out loud and seemed to have the time of his life, then added, “God, why do you take everything so serious? This is a little party, we should be joking around, hm?”

You breathed out exhaustingly and rolled back your eyes in tiredness, not knowing how much longer you could bear all of this. Not only were you chained up, but the man you desired as well – on top of that, Jeehyung was humiliating the both of you. Just when you let your head sink low to show no feelings anymore whatsoever, Jeehyung’s phone rang. Your head snapped back up and the man quickly checked it, stating, “I’ll be right back. Until then, you two try to fuck each other or something.” With that being said, he stormed out of the small room and seemed to have walked all the way down the hallway to pick up his phone. Pure relief extended under your skin when you now could finally bore your eyes into Jungkook’s again, without having to fear anyone else’s attendance.

“Jungkook…” you whispered, one edge of your lips lifting in a painful smile.

Instead of words, he simply leaned in to crash his lips on yours, filling you with relish and the comfort you just needed. You kissed him back, even harder but passionate enough for you to be left breathless.

When you broke the kiss, neither of you pulled away, you just stayed like that, forehead against forehead, feeling each other’s cold sweat and burning hot skin. “Say nothing and don’t be scared. Yoongi and Xio are on their way,” he murmured, softly rubbing his nose against yours to show his affection and care.

You asked back insecurely, “How are you so sure?”

“I just know it. They never leave me hanging…”

You fought another smile and so did he, and Lord, did it feel good and safe just to even be with him despite the horrible setting. You were simply glad he was alright and here with you.

“And I know you will never forgive me this, so I’m not sure how to even start apologizing. You don’t deserve any of this, this isn’t your world,” Jungkook stuttered in fear, but you wished nothing else but to hold him in your arms and give him warmth and strength.

You sighed, “I mean, this isn’t exactly what I expected when I let myself into you. But you made me fall in love again, so you can bet I won’t let go of that anytime soon.”

His head popped up with widened eyes. “You f-fell in love?”

“I-“ you swallowed hard, overthinking your next response very well as you didn’t want to say anything wrong. But where was the point in lying now? “I think so… I don’t remember the last time I have felt so wild, free and mostly alive. You provide me exact that feeling and I want to go on adventures. With you.”

His beautiful face now lightened up and a bright smile crossed his sharp but gorgeous features. Jungkook didn’t respond and you didn’t even expect him to. It solely felt virtuous to let out your feelings for once. You were more than ready for him.

“Then,” Jungkook started off, taking a break to breathe in properly, “you’ll need to know more about me, about the business behind.”

And there was it again, the adrenaline flowing in your blood. God, how eccentric and altruistic it felt, you could get addicted to it. You were totally going irrational.

“I don’t think we have enough time for everything, right? Jeehyung will be back soon. Just tell me superficial about it, because I have been curious about it way too long,” you bit your lower lip, all excited like a little child who was about to open their Christmas present.

Jungkook smirked at you directly, his gaze sending shivers down your spine. “You’re right, my dear. Let’s just say, I trade with a lot of things. Weapons, drugs, money, different currencies, illegal funds, and stuff like that.”

His expression was insecure for sure, but you gave him a small peck on his pretty mouth, saying, “Thank you for trusting me.”

As soon as you heard heavy steps from outside, you pulled away a little from Jungkook and both your expressions turned blank. As you assumed, Jeehyung stormed back in, a lot angrier this time and directly walked towards Jungkook. He pulled at his hair to get him to look in his face and you went numb when you watched the scene.

“This is it. You snatched my sister? Is this what we’re gonna do now? I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger this time, Jeon,” Jeehyung barked into the other’s face, and you weren’t sure if his eyes were red and his face covered wet because he was tired as hell or if he had just cried his eyes out.

You tried gaining your own little space by shyly pulling away from Jeehyung as you remembered Jungkook’s words from before. You better shut up before making everything worse, although it was easier said than done as you had no other choice but to watch them go off, letting outrage build up inside of you.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook blatantly asked, white shock washed over his face.

Jeehyung rolled his eyes and clenched his jaws to the maximum, the outline of his face turning sharper than any sword. Before continuing to ramble, he pulled out a gun in under a second, now shoving the tip right under Jungkook’s chin. He was now forced to have his chin up high, eyes avoiding you in every way possible and you? You were completely anesthetized by now.

“Don’t lie to me. How dare you to touch a member of my family? That’s very disrespectful and you know what I do to people, who disrespect me. I kill them without hesitation,” Jeehyung growled and you closed your eyes in greatest fear. But when you heard the click-clack of the metal in his hand, you knew it was only a matter of seconds before he pulled the trigger for real.

“No, shoot me instead!” you cried out, unpredictably, and tore your eyes open again just to find them both glaring at you – one definitely amused and the other begging you silently to shut up. But that wouldn’t stop you. “Go ahead and kill me. If you’re going to kill him, kill me first!”

“Y/N, hold your mouth, you’re crazy! You don’t know what you’re talking about! If you want to kill anyone, it’s me! Let her go!” Jungkook pleaded from the depth of his heart, you could feel it.

And of course you were providing Jeehyung the best show he had ever witnessed, making him laugh a little – at least he felt some kind of joy with what he was doing. “Oh, Bonnie,” he now turned to you, whispering, “here you go again. This man is worthless, believe me.”

“No! I won’t let you kill him for fuck’s sake!” you screamed and the squealing noise was immediately followed by a gun shot, making you flinch abruptly and look to the ground, not wanting to see what you were afraid of.

Your quick heart pace caused your lungs to stop functioning normally as your breathing got uneven and too fast for you to catch up. Did he really just-

“You little bitch have no right to order me around!” Jeehyung spat out, lifting up your chin in a forceful grip – to let you see dust falling from the ceiling down on all of you, and Jungkook still shaking helplessly with the gun in his throat. Thank God, he only shot upwards.

By now you were covered in cold sweat and so were all of you as far as you could see. When you dared to catch Jungkook’s eyes again, you saw how much he begged you to shut up again, how his mouth formed words and sentences but no sound came out. Everything occurred in slow-motion now and it took you seconds to even process what was happening, who was talking about what, who was swearing who and who is begging and pleading and who was shouting and, and, and… But you didn’t want to give up yet, how could you be able to watch Jungkook go under right in front of your eyes? Was it supposed to end like this? Would that teach you a big lesson? No, you didn’t want it to end and the least thing you needed now was a wise lesson from all this bullshit happening.

It was again the push and pull. Jungkook didn’t push you away, he was pushing himself away from you, for you to not be hurt, for you to be free. But what you were doing, was the exact same thing. You were used to sacrifice yourself for someone else and so was he. If any of your exes would be in Jungkook’s place, he’d try and get out of here as fast as possible, caring about his own will to live. But the man in front of you would take all of it just to get you out of here, even if it meant his death. You pulled him, but he only pushed you into freedom, falling back all alone. You weren’t going to let that happen.

“No, Jungkook, you shut up. Jeehyung!” you fumed at both of them, leaving them both in surprised shock now. When you got the man’s attention, you simply repeated, “Shoot. Me. C’mon. Shoot. Fucking hell, shoot now!”

All of your anxiety turned into the biggest hurricane of adrenaline, causing everything inside you to burn and you weren’t going to let that sit still in there. You were ready to burst out, even if it meant to show a side you hadn’t even seen yourself but right now, you couldn’t sit there and cry, wait until someone from above came to save you. Your look fixed on Jeehyung, you were angry and made sure to not let his intimidation dominate you, but to let your abhorrence rule over him.

“Wow, Y/N, you’re the first girl to ever talk back to me like that, but you know what?” Jeehyung chuckled again, not letting himself down for sure.

As he observed Jungkook’s face one more time, the other man spoke with tears breaking through his eyes, “Y/N! Stay still, please, you’ll get killed for real. I want you to live, I want us to live. We can solve this somehow else.”

His words and the aching look on his face pinched you in the heart but it was too late now to regret your lost head from just seconds ago – Jeehyung had already picked another gun out of his pocket and you felt the cold metal shoved into your skin as well. A tear rolled down your face but that won’t do anything better, right?

The gun thrilled in your veins and you were constantly changing between breathing in a fast pace and not breathing at all for a few seconds. The only thing you were left to do was stare into Jungkook’s dark and hurt eyes, which at least filled you with some last hope.

“Hmm, how about we change from Bonnie and Clyde to Romeo and Juliet? I kill you both. It isn’t exactly suicide, but you die together and can continue your love in hell. I’ll be happy to engrave you two together forever,” Jeehyung lectured in a tone of a pure psychopath. Your head was sure lost already, but you wished you could now turn the tables somehow and kill him instead.

Jungkook didn’t dare to move one inch but he whispered in definite pain, “I told you, I fucking told you. Fuck.” Then he turned to Jeehyung, “Please, can you put the gun off her. I beg you. She has done nothing, man, nothing. I’m carrying all the weight and you know it.”

“She does have a little weight. Cheating on me in that poker game. You thought I wouldn’t realize, hm? I only let her go because I knew I’d catch her again sooner or later. And having you here in a package is the best thing that could happen to me,” Jeehyung snickered and kept shoving the guns deeper into your skins, and soon you would be off edge.

“So, who are we going to kill first? Or are we going to do it at the same time?”

You shut your eyes close very tightly, in hope to let this all fade away, let all the pain and fear of death disappear. In hope to wake up in the king-sized bed in Jungkook’s arms. But when you unsealed your eyes again, Jeehyung’s visage was still inches close to yours, frowning nauseatingly, a horrible grin put up and the devil spread all over his figure.

“We’re gonna do it as a surprise! I’m going to count from three, alright? Careful,” he announced and if this was truly going to happen, you’d want your last sight to be Jungkook’s eyes.

“Three…”

This short amount of time you spent with him was more meaningful than with any man you had ever met. He had shown you so much more than you ever thought you’d needed.

“Two…”

And this was how it’d all end. Not only the relationship, but your whole life. And you were only left to wonder if you’d ever meet him again in the after-life or whatever there was coming.

“One-”

“You’re not going to kill anyone, or you’ll be the next dead body lying on this floor!” a sudden loud female voice intruded the ceremony from behind Jeehyung and to the back of his head, he now had a gun breathing down his own neck as well.

---

a/n: ok guys, I’m dead and gone idk where to go from here I feel... empty. :)

[blitzkrieg-mit-dem-fleischgewehr]

Fire and Alcohol: What Could Go Wrong?

Day 3 Prompt:  "We're going to die, we're going to die and it's all your fault." Burning. Date night.

@draucorweek!!!

Title: Fire and Alcohol: What Could Go Wrong? Rating: General Summary:  A Captain and a Marshal...go on date. Maybe?

“Shiva’s tits, Nyx!” Pelna panics. “We’re going to die! We’re going to die and it’s all going to be your fault, you know that right?!”

Nyx shrugs nonchalantly as if his two notes to both the Marshal and Captain from the ‘Marshal’ and the ‘Captain’ was nothing to be worried about. Honestly, Nyx didn’t think it was but Pelna was definitely not keeping his cool.

“Why did you come with me if you’re going to react like we committed a crime.” Nyx huffs as he continues walking down the hall towards the training grounds.

“Because as much as your dumb ass can’t believe it, I would rather you didn’t die at the hands of two people who could turn you inside out and are supposed to keep us safe. Well, as safe as they can considering the circumstances.” Pelna grumbles.

Nyx laughs softly at his friend and he sidesteps so he can get close to the man, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and grinning diabolically. “Look Pelna, those two are clearly boning, like there’s clearly something there, but both of them are also emotionally constipated. Let me be the hand of fate and give them a chance to act like proper adults who clearly need to go on a date.”

Pelna seems to curl into himself as he lets out a groan of serious worry. “What did the note say?”

Nyx’s lips curve even further up. “So every year I found out that in Somnus Park, they put up a fire garden. Cool stuff. Also beer, cocktails and wine. I figured I couldn’t go wrong with fire and alcohol.”

That seems to earn Nyx another groan from Pelna which has him laughing a little louder.

“Don’t worry Peln, it’ll be great.”

----

And, that’s how Titus found himself in a park dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a worn leather jacket. Things that he rarely wore since realistically he was working all the time.

There’s a particular candle ornament that has Titus making quite a face at it. He swears if Ramuh decided to have a sense of humour, one gust of wind from the Astral would set this entire park on fire. Symbolic, really.

He’s not sure who thought fire in a park was a good idea but if he’d been the person in charge of sanctioning this event, it would have never made it off his office desk. Granted, he would admit that it looked nice and he could see why Cor would invite him to something as odd as this.

Titus can’t help but take in the sight of how each metal candle holders curved in different artistic ways. Then taking into account the different size, height, width and colour of each candle and how they were meticulously picked to mimic different flower species of Eos. It really did look like a giant metal fire garden.

It was perhaps a little too romantic for Titus’ taste... Which begged the question of why Cor would have even thought about asking to meet him in a place like this: they had both agreed no emotions. They weren’t going to step over those boundaries no matter how breathtaking this event is.

Titus thoughts are put on pause when he spots Cor entering the park. The man looked far less concerned about the sanctity of the vegetation than he did when he’d first stepped foot through the parks’ archways.

The Marshal spots him quickly enough and makes a beeline towards him. Titus doesn’t bother waiting as he moves to meet Cor halfway. “Interesting place to meet,” Titus comments immediately.

This earns an arched brow from the Immortal. “I could say the same thing.”

Titus’ brows knit together and alarms go off in his head, really they had gone off when he first walked into the death trap of a park.

“Interesting ” Titus replies with a forced smile as Cor shoves his hands into his pocket looking almost awkward.

They were here. They might as well enjoy Ifrit’s paradise for a little bit before parting ways and never speaking of this again.

“Why don’t we get a drink and walk around. I’m surprised none of this worries you.” Titus motions towards a lavishly decorated bar with engravings in the wood that shone in the same colour pattern as lava. It was clear that the organizers of this event were detailed oriented.

Cor snorts. “This is a yearly event, Titus. It’s been going on since I was thirteen at least.”

Titus eyes another candle formation with suspicion. “Then I’m surprised this park hasn’t met its untimely doom sooner.”

This has Cor chuckling softly which pulls a small smile from Titus. “It might with the two of us here. We’re hardly the type to keep out of trouble and much less with a beer or two in our system.”

It was Titus’ turn to laugh. “Speaking of beer, what’ll you have?” He’s already pulling his wallet out of his jacket pocket.

Cor looks as if he’s about to protest but then he closes his mouth and thinks about it. “An IPA from Lestallum, if they have any. If not I’ll get whatever you’re getting.”

Titus nods and he steps away from the Marshal to retrieve them some well-needed drinks. It was difficult to hide that they both felt awkward. It was clear they were both out of their element. Usually, they only saw each other in Uniform, at Cor's place or the Citadel. They had had the occasional drink together... However, they had never really strayed far from the Citadel grounds and had never worn civilian attire. Not until now.

Titus returns with the exact drink Cor has asked for and a darker lager for himself.

Cor flashes Titus with a grateful smile at the same time Titus lifts his bottle up. “Cheers to this park’s good fortune in the face of fire.”

This earns him another amused chuckle from Cor who lifts his bottle and clinks it with Titus’. “Thank Bahamut for Shiva.” Is all he says and they both take a long drink from their beer, perhaps too long of a drink.

They both fall silent as they walk through the many winding paths of artistically placed metal winding fire flowers.: either of them looked at each other as if they were avoiding the fact that this had become a little too intimate for either of them even though they’d both seen each other naked, aroused and sated.

It’s Cor who breaks the silence first.

“You didn’t invite me here, did you?”

Titus doesn’t answer immediately as he slips his hand into his pant pocket to grasp the folded note he’d brought with him.

“No.”

Cor’s eyes fall shut and he exhales. He sounds exhausted and Titus isn’t sure why.

“You got the same note that I did, didn’t you?”

Titus sighs because things were slowly making sense. “I have a note, not sure if it’s exactly the same.” He answers as he pulls the aforementioned note from his pocket which was the same note just signed by Cor rather than him.

That was enough for Cor. He downs the rest of his beer and manages to place the empty bottle on the tray of a waiter passing by.

“I should go.”

Cor doesn’t really give Titus time to answer as the Marshal pivots on his heel in hopes of making an escape. The only thing Titus manages to do is reach out and grab Cor by the wrist pulling him back with a frown. Now that he’d done it, he would stick to his guns.

This entire fiery death garden had him thinking less logically and more with feelings he’d hoped would go away with time.

Cor is also frowning but it’s not as severe as the one on Titus’ features which was a good sign at least.

“I don’t want you to go.” Titus grunts trying to hide the fact that maybe this entire thing hadn’t been a bad idea. He already suspected a certain Glaive for all of this and he would deal with him accordingly. But, that could wait until tomorrow because right now they were here and Titus would admit he liked Cor's company.

He can see the Marshal’s expression soften a little and the exhaustion from earlier disappearing, not completely but a little.

“You don’t?”

Titus’ lips thin, he knows what Cor’s doing but he’ll humour him. “I don’t.”

There’s a moment of hesitancy but Cor steps closer to Titus and interlaces their pinkies. “Why don’t we do one more walk around of this flowery inferno and then head back to my place.”

Titus is surprised that he doesn’t mind that they’re practically holding hands. He shifts closer leaning a little against Cor so they can be a little more discreet. “I couldn’t think of a better plan.” He admits trying to meet Cor halfway. “Although, we’ll both need at least one more beer.”

Cor laughs.

And that seems to set the tempo for the rest of their evening.

----

“Ulric!”

Nyx makes a face and Pelna only shakes his head as he takes several steps away from his fellow glaive.

“Tell the Captain I called in sick, Pelna! Alright?” Nyx gets out but doesn’t wait for an answer as he starts jogging out of the training grounds, intending to make a break for the doors once he gets to the Citadel lobby.

“Khara! Don’t you let Ulric get away!” Titus bellows as he points at him.

Pelna turns a little pale and he glances from one side of the training ground to the other before taking many steps back as the Captain storms past him.

A commotion can be heard from outside of the training grounds and one lone voice from possibly a councilman screeches: “WE SAID NO WARPING IN THE CITADEL LOBBY!”

“ULRIC!”

And, all of this seems to pull an incredibly loud laugh from Libertus who nearly falls from his perch atop the tower.

Pelna can only sigh and shake his head at the entire ordeal. At least the Captain looked a lot more relaxed than he has in, well, ever.

[ofheroesandvillains]

I Needed You (4) - Bucky Barnes

Words: 3.2k Warnings: Violence, maybe...yeah actually, violence.  Summary: 2 unexpected phone calls, and someone gets beaten up.

(the gif won’t come up for some reason, I’ll add it later)

Bucky took a sip of his water as his pale gaze roamed the street absentmindedly. It had been over an hour and so far everything looked fine. No shady figures, no suspicious cars…no threat besides the screeching toddler three tables away that was threatening to burst his eardrum.

For the umpteenth time that day, his eyes settled on the beautiful woman in red. He smiled for the first time in what felt like years. You never wore bright colours before, they were too obvious, they drew too much attention. If there was one thing you knew not to do, it was draw attention. He suspected the red long-sleeved dress was more Pepper’s idea than your own, but he mentally praised the woman for her input.

You were making your way back down the street, towards one of the first shops you had entered. You must have-

Bucky was shaken out of his thoughts when he felt his jacket pocket start vibrating.

“What the…?” Bucky’s brows furrowed as he stared at the familiar number. No one was supposed to know how to contact him, this was a burn phone after all, even Steve would have trouble finding him without Stark’s help. So how did she know how to reach him?

He accepted the call, his curiosity winning out.

“Hel-“

“Bucky.” She cut him off abruptly, and he could hear the thickness in her voice.

Oh god. He really hoped she hadn’t missed him that much. He was so sure that she would hate him considering the way he left her - terrified and likely traumatised. He felt the guilt settle in his chest once more. The toddler screeched once more and Bucky winced at the sound, quickly making his way downstairs to avoid the noise.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry…” He trailed off awkwardly, not knowing what to say. His nervousness quickly turned to concern when he heard her ragged breath coming from the other end of the phone.

“Hey, are you alright?” Bucky dodged a waitress swerving through the tables, and shot her an apologetic smile when she stumbled around him.

“I’m s-sorry…I’m s-so sorry. I didn’t ha-have a choice.” She was crying, and Bucky froze at her words, his interest in their conversation peaking.

“Hey slow down for me…what are you talkin’ about?” He asked reluctantly.

“They said they’d hurt the kids if I didn’t do it.”

Bucky pressed a finger to his free ear, his heart suddenly thumping that little bit faster as dread settled in his stomach.

“Who said they’d hurt the kids?” She sobbed at his question, but he already knew the answer.

“H-HYDRA.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. It was a mixture of emotion. He was concerned for her wellbeing, enraged at HYDRA’s involvement once more and though he wouldn’t admit it, he was scared of what this meant for both of them. He wasn’t in love with her, but he still cared about her. She had never done anything wrong in his eyes, and obviously she was terrified - if her voice was anything to go by. God, they were probably right there with her. There was no other way that she could have contacted him.

The situation was out of his control though, there was nothing he could do for her now. Not while he was in Los Angeles.

“Take it easy, sweetheart. I need you to breathe…and I hate to ask you this, but if you can, I need you to tell me everything.”

She sniffled loudly, and for a moment he thought she hadn’t heard him when she didn’t reply.

“Bucky, they told me to tell you…”

Bucky bit his lower lip, eyes squeezing shut. He hated hearing the fear in anyone’s voice, it reminded him too much of his past -of his victims- and it bothered him to hear ones he cared for in distress.

“Yeah?” He softly prompted.

“That she- she looks beautiful in red.” Her words were punctuated with shuddering cries, she knew just how bad of a situation he had been placed in. She knew how much he loved you, and she knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do if it meant keeping you safe.

Bucky’s eyes shot towards the street faster than a bullet and he was all but panting when he noticed Pepper outside the store with both hands full of bags, looking around the street in confusion. Oh god. He had taken his eyes off of you for a second. A single second to answer the phone, but it had been a second too long.

“No, no, no, no, no…”

“-cky? Bucky?”

“Huh?” He was only half-listening, rushing between the small tables toward the exit, eyes never leaving the busy street and desperate to see any trace of red.

“Don’t! Don’t it’s not her the-“ A muffled scream came from the phone before it briefly went silent.

“Sergeant Barnes...we’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

He didn’t recognise the voice, but he didn’t need to. Bucky’s jaw clenched in anger regardless of who it was.

“What do you want?”

“You.” The man answered simply. ˆThere’s a car waiting in the back, two of our men are waiting for you.”

“Well they can keep waiting.”

“You have two minutes, Sergeant. It’s you or the girl, and I know my superiors have been dying to get their hands on her.”

Bucky almost snarled at the thought, cybernetic fist threatening to shatter his cellphone entirely.

“You touch her and I’ll tear your arms clean off.”

“Then you better hurry.” 

Pepper had stepped into some fancy jewellery store to buy a nice watch she thought Happy would like. Usually he’d be offered the best Stark tech available, but Happy was very much an old fashioned soul. Technology was not his forte. So Rolex would unfortunately have to do this time ‘round.

But you took this opportunity to have a moment to yourself and finally deal with that niggling feeling in the back of your mind. You were about 97% sure that you were being followed, but there was only one way to find out for sure.

You could hear the barely-there footsteps trailing after you as you stepped into the alleyway behind the row of stores. The daylight made it seem much less intimidating than those you often saw in movies, but the predictable turn of events that followed could have been taken straight out of an action sequence.

His steps slowed to a halt the moment he noticed the empty alleyway, and he took a hesitant step back, only to be met with a painful strike across his shoulder blades. He cried out in pain, dropping to his knees as his back arched. A similar strike followed and he doubled over with another yelp. Falling onto his back, he squinted against the pain to look at his attacker.

You tilted your head curiously. You thought you recognised his face. It was a good thing you had avoided targeting it with the stray metal pole you had found by the dumpster. Oh yes, it must have hurt, and you couldn’t deny that it felt good to get that anger out in the only way you truly knew worked.

“Well, this is a surprise.” You shot forward in a blur, fingers pressing into his cheeks painfully and forcing his mouth open. He didn’t have enough time to even realise what you were doing before the false molar was torn from his mouth, and the little pill along with it.

“Bitch.” He growled with a gasp as you shoved his head back down.

You brought the pole down onto his shin, and he howled, clutching his leg desperately as he lolled from side to side on the ground.

“Watch your mouth, asshole.”

His jaw clenched, whether it was to combat the pain or force himself to hold his tongue, you had no idea.

“What’s your name?”

“Go to hell-“ His eyes widened when you readied the pole once more. “Smith! Dennis Smith!”

You crouched down beside him, with faux frown. “Wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

He didn’t reply, choosing to glare at you instead. He didn’t bother fighting when you rooted through his pocket and snatched his wallet out of it. Bank cards, a few coupons, driver’s license…

“Why are you following me, Dennis Smith?” Surprisingly, he hadn’t lied about that.

Again, he didn’t reply.

With a small sigh, you removed the Glock from the holster strapped to your thigh and his eyes darted to the gun nervously.

“I’m not scared of you.” His voice was surprisingly strong, a complete opposite to his almost trembling form. “You won’t do it.”

You forced a smile, wishing that were the case. But nothing could ever make you un-learn everything HYDRA had engraved into your mind. You were used to the feeling of blood on your hands.

“You have no idea what I’d do.” You shook your head with a small frown.

“HYDRA gave you everything, and you turned your back on them.” He sounded like a puppet, speaking as if he didn’t believe a word he was saying, but had to say them anyway. “He’s made you soft.”

All his words did was add fuel to the fire that fed your anger. The same anger you held onto for months, no, years.

“Not nearly soft enough.”

He froze when he felt cool metal pressed to his forehead.

“I’ll ask again, one last time. Why are you following me?”

There was silence for a moment, and you cocked your brows pointedly. The clock was ticking and he knew it. The change in your tone told him this was well and truly his last chance.

“Because the only way to get him, is to make him think we want you.”

You didn’t question him. There was only one person he could have been talking about, and you pushed your surprise to the side for the moment. You could question what he was doing in LA at a later time.

But it was a diversion. Why else would they send someone so incompetent after you? Because the real talent was needed elsewhere. It was far more difficult to catch the Winter Soldier than it was to catch you. Unfortunately, that meant he had possibly been captured, and the thought of what they could do to him was enough to force the barrel of the gun harder against Dennis’ forehead.

It had been sudden, the fear that had struck you. And you knew…you knew you’d do absolutely anything. It was what you had been avoiding for the past two months. Those feelings you had, even now, after everything had changed in your mind. You knew that they wouldn’t change. You’d always feel them, no matter how much time had passed, no matter how hard you tried to push them away. All it took was one reminder of how much you stood to lose, for you to remember how far you’d go to keep it.

It didn’t mean forgiveness, that was another battle for another day. But you’d be damned if you let anyone hurt him, you wouldn’t abandon him as he abandoned you.  

“Where is he?”

Dennis shook his head quickly, recognising the dark shift in your tone. “I don’t know.”

“Tell me where he is, and I’ll let you go.” You offered.

“What’s the point?” He sniffed loudly. “They’d just kill me instead.”

He wasn’t wrong. The fact that he had been caught was enough to ensure that he was already a target. But that just wasn’t good enough. You knew those damn words no longer had the same effect on Bucky, but that didn’t mean he was safe. It just meant they could be more creative with their punishments, because he’d remember them all. No, you couldn’t risk not finding him.  

“Fine.” You sighed. “Then I guess I’ll just keep you alive long enough to watch the light leave your little girl’s eyes.” You waved the photo you had plucked from his wallet between your index and middle fingers mockingly. His eyes widened the moment he noticed the wide grin of his 5-year-old staring back at him.

“You wouldn’t.” He didn’t sound too certain.

“Wouldn’t I?” You leaned closer, brows pulling together. “Do you have any idea who they asked you to follow?”

He swallowed thickly. This wasn’t what he signed up for, this wasn’t the type of game he wanted to play. Not one that put his family at risk.

“I’ll tell you what I wouldn’t do, Dennis.” Your eyes locked onto his own with determination. “I wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a single second if it meant finding him. I’d kill you and everyone you had ever met in your life. So yeah, I guess you’re right. He has made me soft.” You shifted the barrel of the Glock to his knee cap.

“Last chance. Where is he?”

Bucky groaned when he came to.

Rookie move, Barnes.

In his panic -in his desperation- he hadn’t paid enough attention to his surroundings, and it had been all too easy for them to hit him with a tranquilliser. He should have expected it, to be perfectly honest. It was too risky to have him conscious when they transported him to...wherever the hell he was.

“Oh thank god, you’re awake.”

Bucky froze momentarily at the familiar voice hovering above him, and his eyes cracked open to see her worried face looking down at him. His lashes fluttered for a moment, trying to adjust his eyes to his new surroundings. He frowned when he noticed the deep purple bruise on the side of her face, something that she didn’t miss.

���It’s alright, it looks worse than it really is.” She shot him a weak smile, and quickly helped him sit up when he grimaced uncomfortably. He didn’t care how it looked, the bastards would pay for it.

“Easy…they said it would take a while to wear off.”

Bucky groaned lightly, the back of his head sore from laying on cold concrete floor for so long. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged with a weary sigh.

Bucky’s eyes widened when he remembered the events leading up to his capture, and he would have jumped to his feet had a small hand not pressed his shoulder back down.

“Y/N…” He looked to his ex in question.

“She’s…she isn’t here.”

“How certain are you?” Because he wasn’t certain at all. They had been watching you, and HYDRA left no loose ends. Even with his capture, he knew better than to believe that they would leave you be. But he wasn’t willing to gamble with your life.

“Pretty certain, Bucky. I tried to tell you but…” She motioned to her face awkwardly. “She wasn’t their target, you were.”

“But…” Bucky shook his head, trying to clear his rampant thoughts and try to piece everything together. “She wasn’t there.”

“Bucky, trust me. If they had her, I wouldn’t be here.”

She had a point, he conceded. You were enough leverage to ensure he did whatever they wanted, but he had watched you die every night for the past two months, and his mind wouldn’t allow him peace until he saw you in front of him - safe.

He felt fingers gently trace the side of his forehead and jerked back instinctively.

“I’m sorry! I-I didn’t…they hit you earlier, when you started waking up.”

Bucky’s gaze softened in apology, but he really didn’t know how to deal with the situation. He’d rather be alone in the dimly lit concrete box they called a cell, but he didn’t have much of a say in that.

“’S fine.”

He shuffled back to sit against the wall, avoiding her gaze. He still felt the guilt hit him when he remembered almost taking her head off with his own fist, and she could see the conflict on his face as she shuffled over to sit beside him.

“Bucky…talk to me.” She pleaded.  

“You said they made you do it…what did they make you do?” His brows furrowed in thought.

She remained silent, and Bucky tensed in apprehension. “What-“

“Date you.” She blurted out.

“Huh?”

She took a deep breath, nervously playing with her sleeve as she elaborated. “They- they told me to get close to you.”

She didn’t know when things had changed. When he wasn’t just a way to keep her niece and nephew alive, but a man she could genuinely see herself growing old with. She knew they came from two different worlds, and maybe that’s why he was so appealing to her, but she did love him. It hadn’t been part of the plan, especially when she noticed the way he looked at you, but she didn’t want to let him go. Because she naively thought that he could grow to love her as she had grown to love him. Needless to say, as long as you were in the picture that wouldn’t happen.

But she knew nothing could be done about it. You can’t make someone love you, after all.

Bucky almost couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t unheard of for an agent to go undercover, but why were HYDRA interested in a school teacher of all things? She had no training, she wasn’t loyal to their cause, and there was no guarantee he would even take a liking to her.

“Why?” It just didn’t make sense to him.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I think they just wanted a way to hurt you both.”

This just added to his confusion.

“Both?”

She rolled her eyes with a small smile. “Still so oblivious.”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“You do know she loves you, right?”

There was only one person she could have meant and Bucky scoffed at the very thought. “She can’t stand the sight of me.”

“Somehow, I really doubt that.”

She shot Bucky a knowing smile, and his own lips quirked up half-heartedly. It was quick to fall as soon as he heard the footsteps outside the door, and Bucky shot to his feet quickly, shielding the woman behind him.

The door swung open and he didn’t have enough time to react before the newcomer rolled a grenade into the room and slammed the door shut once more.

Instead of the expected explosion, gas was slowly sweeping across the floor. What ever it was, it was strong. Strong enough to have her out in 2 seconds, and him out in 4.

Steve sighed for the hundredth time as his eyes scanned the computer screen. Natasha was doing god only knows what to try and locate his missing best friend, but Bucky remained as elusive as ever. Steve still didn’t understand technology as well as most, he got the basics, but he put all of his trust in Nat’s hands when it came to anything above accessing his emails.

Still nothing.

He knew it would be near impossible to find him when he didn’t want to be found, but the longer Bucky was gone, the more Steve feared for his friend. He wasn’t in a good place emotionally, and HYDRA were still out there like the persistent cockroaches they were. He didn’t even want to consider what they’d do to his friend if they ever-

“Steve?”

The man in question perked up at the sound of his name.

“We got a hit?”

“No…” Natasha’s brows furrowed as she stared down at the cellphone in her hands. She held it up in question, and Steve’s lips parted in surprise when he noticed the familiar number flash on the screen as it rang silently. “This him?”

“No.” Steve was quick to take the phone from her, and Natasha cocked a curious brow.

“Hello?”

Steve smiled the first genuine smile that Natasha had seen since she returned.

“Y/N? Hey, I didn’t think you’d-“

“Steve, I need your help.” She was quick to cut him off, and there was no trace of Steve Rogers left as soon as he noted the hint of panic in her voice. He straightened up, every bit the Captain America the world had come to love.

“What’s going on?” The last time she needed him he wasn’t there, he wouldn’t be making that mistake again, and the determination in his voice assured her of that.

“It’s Bucky…”

Tags:

@roxytheimmortal @lovely-geek @diinofayce @imaginecrushes @mallyallyandra @amor67figment-love @katykyll @sawdustandsugar @lordemjay @alize-marilise @confused-and-alone 

I’m sorry if your tag didn’t work (or if I forgot to tag you!) but thank you to everyone taking the time to read this!

[forgotten-stories-podcast]

A Devil May Cry Story - Before the Reunion

-And the rest is silence. These words echoed through the lobby now empty of any other life form. What was a symphony of unnatural roars, gunshots and sword clanks was now only silence, while the warm bodies of foul beasts laying on the ground would soon become cold. The blood on the walls and the sword. The guns smoking and empty. This was his personal pleasure. Everybody had one, a personal motivation to move forward. Most of the time it’s the hope for a better future, which brings people to say words like “I hope everything will be alright”. Hard to understand those people. Hope is inactivity. If you’re inactive, you let fate deal with it, with good possibilities to be hit by it and by all the demons it brings along. Sometimes it’s the passion about what we do. For the man in red, it was the relationship between noise and silence. Noise is always positive. It carries troubles, issues, foul beasts. It means that whatever is happening, he’s part of it, that he’s doing what he loves more than anything else in the world. Noise is the harbinger of his opportunity to return to feel alive. Out the noise, enters the silence. The calm after the storm. After a gig, silence always leaves a sense of satisfaction, and the noisier the better. Sometimes everything ends in a matter of seconds, a couple of bullets followed by some strikes of his sword and nothing and no one speaks anymore, leaving the one who shot and stroke rather disappointed. Little noise means little difficulty, which means little challenge and everything ends with boredom, lots of it. But not that time. The scarlet blood was dripping from the point of his sword staining the floor recently waxed. Non-human meat pieces were on top of tables, and chairs, and other furniture of the room, and on one of these was sitting the young man. He was admiring what he had done while holding by the horn the head of one of the creatures he had beheaded. Its skin was almost non-existing, the skull was red and it had an expression of terror engraved on its face due to the sudden death. He looked at it for a few seconds, thinking about that monster and his cruel fate that decided to put it against him, and whilst he was lowering the arm, gazing at his work that bordered on art, his expression changed. A smile appeared on his face. -Dante! Where are you? Are you… are you still alive?- said the short and chubby young man, wearing a flat cap, and a long coat. -More alive than these guys here, that’s for sure. Dante, son of a woman named Eva and of an unspeakable father, had chosen the harsh path of hunting and killing of demonic beings as a profession. His interlocutor’s name was Enzo Ferino, both friend and mediator between him and the mercenary world. Enzo was walking through the lobby, avoiding the mess on the ground (blood puddles and the fresh demonic meat pieces), and with the terror of drawing the attention of any demonic being still alive that Dante may had, possibly, forgotten or avoided to kill. -They’re all dead, don’t cower like you always do. -Hey! I don’t go around armed head to toe and I don’t survive if my heart gets stabbed! Dante laughed. -You know, you could have avoided all this disaster.- said Enzo adjusting his hat -I’m afraid what our client is going to say when he’ll discover that he’ll have to restore the lobby even before the hotel’s opening!- -He should have called someone else, then. Maybe someone who would have got himself killed immediately, or someone who would have risked to compromise the rest of the building as well.- Dante looked at Enzo annoyed -Now, shut up and get paid. -Provided that he doesn’t change his mind, considering the status of the room.- replied Enzo  heading towards the exit of the lobby in the same way he entered it. -Hey! Catch!- said Dante tossing the demon head to him. Enzo, after realizing what he just caught, threw it, shocked. This caused sonorous laughter from his friend. Enzo said nothing else, he knew it would have been useless. He just left Dante to what remained of his work worthy of a splatter movie. Dante stayed there for a few seconds, then he stood up and walked to the exit. He managed to get away from the hotel without being seen by anyone, and he chuckled when he saw Enzo getting yelled at by the owner. Dante’s fight was nothing special, in comparison. It was five o'clock in the afternoon. The sun was getting low, the shadows were growing bigger and bigger and they offered a good hiding place for the blood-stained Dante and his weapons, while also avoiding the man-made lights. The demons’ attacks were becoming increasingly frequent, and with time the weaker demons would have become fewer and fewer, making room for stronger demons and harder challenges. Dante was looking forward to it. He just hoped that the civilians would be able to escape in time. Regarding his business, he had yet to find a name. Enzo was the one dealing with the clients, but “Dante and Enzo” was not a good name, it just meant that there were two guys named Dante and Enzo. They were in need of a good name, a captivating one that could convey what they offered. -I’ll never find a good name for this joint.- he grumbled as he entered the building. He took his sword from his back and tossed it to his left as if it was a common cloth, did the same with the jacket on the hanger and then he laid the two handguns on the desk. He sat on the chair behind it and laid his feet on it, the hands behind his head. The exercise done minutes ago made him hungry, so he picked up the phone and dialed the number of his favorite pizzeria. -Yeah, it’s me… the usual. Put it on my tab, and hey! No olives. Leave it on the table. Dante remained on the chair for a few minutes, and then the phone rang. Dante hit the desk with his foot, causing the phone receiver to fly in the air, and then he grabbed it. -You have no idea, no…. idea… of the problems I had to face in order to convince the guy not only to pay us, but to not sue us.- Enzo sounded tired. -You’re right, I don’t, but I know you succeeded. -Yes. But there is something I have to talk to you about. It’s very important. -Can’t it wait? I was going to have a shower. -No.- Enzo seemed distressed, somehow. They often had differences of opinion, but business was going so well, with all the good executed and paid gigs, they were able to get over any quarrel. But this time… it seemed serious. -I think we should be doing business separately, for a while. -What, you want to slay demons on your own?- Dante acted surprised -So you’re not the coward you always appeared to be…- -Do you have any idea what it's like to face a furious client that sees the damage you cause with your personal touch?- his voice was shivering, as if almost in tears -Do you have any idea how many times we were to the point of closing because you can’t curb your weapons? I don’t know how long I’ll be able to do this… People talk. There are those who won’t hire us because they think that a demon haunting a building is not a big deal, if compared to how much they would be paying to fix everything! They would rather hire newbies just because they will be killed doing the job, so they won’t have to pay them. And I can assure you it’s not just rumors!- It was clear that seeing so many demons hadn’t been therapeutic for someone like him, who was neither bravery made flesh nor capable with weapons. -I made my decision. Please, respect it.- There was a few seconds of silence from the demon hunter. -Do as you please. But you still owe me a pizza. You know how I like it. -So… are we still… friends?- his voice sounded relieved. -You said you wanted to do “business separately”, didn’t you? Enzo chuckled. -Yes, you’re right.- -I’m taking a shower, now. I have already called the pizzeria, go pay them afterwards. That news wasn’t shocking to him. He had always imagined Enzo wasn’t happy every time they completed a job, he always had something to say about how Dante used to create more problems than there already were. He couldn’t, however, say that he was wrong. Dante’s only objective was to fulfill the mission and have fun while doing it, and it was true that chandeliers often fell, that walls got filled with holes and that place reeked of blood for days. To reduce the number of demons on the loose, even if just one, you could risk doing some damage, in his opinion. In the past it has happened that he prevented damages, but it was to do a service to penniless people. They didn’t deserve more problems to where there should be solutions. At some point, whilst the boiling water was coming out the pipes, a sound echoed through Dante’s office. The incessant ringing of the phone.