#and while every other train passenger is there (alive or not) they get little to no focus so no point tagging them

[buttercup-barf]

Might as well start posting my fanfiction here, too. This was originally intended just for @a-not-so-sure-artist, but I liked it too much not to share with more folks.

Some context! It's based on Sock.clip's Miscellaneous Multiverse Murder Mystery "AU" with twelve characters pulled from her various stories (full lineup on her Instagram here) getting tangled up in a murder mystery, while on a train. She apparently envisioned it as a game, where one of the characters got randomised as a killer, with the hypothetical player, the thirteenth person, having to figure out who it is, as every hour one other passenger was murdered.

She even made a full-blown animation (YouTube link, Newgrounds link), showing how a scene from this game would have probably played out. The ending made me really sad. A contribution from the aforementioned friend of mine made me even sadder! So I decided to write out a better turn of events for our boy Julian. He deserves the world. And, perhaps, a friend or two. :-)

Now that you're up to speed, here's the link to the fic. Hope you enjoy!

[luvzxr]

Innocence pt. 2

Nsfw 18+ mdni!! I will cry. Summary: The youngest and most innocent member of the redfield siblings finds herself falling for the broken and not so innocent blonde agent whose been a well known long term friend with her two older siblings.

This fic consists of possible nsfw, mentions of deep and depressive topics, violence, gore, pet names, small age gap, no use of y/n your/you're, oc name is used but you may use you own if you'd like! Part 1! Word Count: 2,942

Sophie was never much of the talkative type, even less when she was drowsy.

She was quiet-- reserved for herself and close companions who understood her so It wasn't much of a shock when there was no noise except the soft murmuring of the radio playing some sort of old time rock and the humming of the heat flowing through the small vents of the interior jeep that currently was cruising down the dimmed out, paved roads. Her head rested against the glass window, staring out as she watched the world seemingly go by in a blur. Her legs curled under the dash, closely huddled towards the passenger side door and her frail arms were folded lazily over her chest. She was eager to just get home. Leon didn't necessarily scream uninviting but it was just an odd case scenario. And an awkward one at that. He never offered her a ride home but that might also have to do with the fact he was never in a predicament where he had to. He didn't even have to now. He could of easily ignored the sleepy girl that was sat in that metal chair that looked far too uncomfortable to be falling asleep in but she was making it work. It made his back ache, every muscle in his entire body twitched in a way that made him feel he just finished an excruciating training session. How the girl managed to sleep like that was beyond him. Sophie had no right to feel any remote fear over him. He was an agent. He protected innocence and kept them out of harms way but the unknowing about him is what bubbled that anxiety deep within her. And if he was anything like her brother, he had hidden emotions stuffed so deep inside-- stuffed down so far to try and suppress but eventually that all just snaps. All the pent-up anger, heartbreak, and depressive thoughts all shoved into one thing and one thing alone. Killing.

She was curious, yes, and she asked a lot of questions. Probably more than for her own good sometimes. But she wasn't dumb. Ditzy but not dumb. She knew when it came to Chris, he used the missions and the military as an outlet to release all those emotions out without being forced to talk about what really was going on inside his head. Without having to open up and where he could stay and play the unbothered hero like everyone looked to him as. And she knew better than to play shrink and try to get him to spill. She learned her lesson the first time.

It seemed to almost become an animalistic instinct for not only Chris or Leon, but also Claire. How they always expected the worst to come out of whatever roller coaster they unfortunately were always first in line for. Placed directly on the front lines every time. Sophie managed to see them be put to work once or twice through her lifetime, watching how they were two completely different people with little ammunition in that chamber and the deathly grip that held that pistol in their palms as if it was life or death. Because it was. Day after day consisted nothing but survival for all of them, coming in close contact with death only to directly laugh in it's face when they lived yet another day. As the youngest sister forced to sit at home, living her average days like the average civilian at home while her two other siblings left more often than she'd like them to and the constant worry that bubbled inside, wondering if they would be coming back in one piece, alive or in a body bag was often the worst nightmare only she could hope never became a reality. Leon was cold, his redden knuckles slowly turning white due to the grip of the steering wheel. He was tired. More like, exhausted. All he wanted to do was get back to his small, singular residential apartment where he then could find peace, crashing into the plush of the mattress where he would or wouldn't manage a decent eight hours of sleep. Only his body would mange the luxury he desperately longed for right now. But here he was, being yet another 'hero' in some sense to the younger girl who he'd occasionally give a head nod or a lazy wave just to be polite but never really acknowledged her anymore than that. He had his own reasons to keep people on a six foot long pole. Sophie just happened to be one of those people he needed to keep farther away than usual. She was the youngest of his two pals but she was also the only one who wasn't roped into the same tormented nightmares they had. It was best to keep it that way. To some extent, he didn't mind the plus one company he had sitting in his passenger seat because most nights the drive home felt much longer and drawn out-- like he was stuck in a loop of going down the same old road he started on, only to find out that wasn't the case and it happened to be his muscle memory taking the same route he always did. His mind was just on auto pilot the whole ride home. The only difference now is he had to be at least a little present because it wasn't just his life at risk anymore. "Leon!"

Forearm pulsing against the wheel from the sudden sound that ripped right through his personal thoughts. His gaze flickered from the where the shriek emerged next to him and then back to the road. A split second decision needing to be made-- he jerked the wheel, swerving the vehicle to the other side of the road in an attempt to avoid hitting the dumbfounded raccoon scurrying across the pavement. So much for paying attention. "Shit," he huffed, repositioning on his side of the road before taking a glance over to the petrified girl next to him, "Are you alright Soph?" "I-I think so.." Leave it to the blonde to get lost in his imperial thoughts and manage a split second decision. Most times that ended in a flipped vehicle, explosion or worse-- However, he'd prefer not to mention that to the her, especially when almost the entirety color of her slight tanned skin was almost completely flushed white. He'd also never muster up the courage now to mention he'd probably was in desperate need of a eye sight check up. A prescription was almost one hundred percent certain, he was just far too stubborn to book the appointment. She looked like a ghost and in more ways than one, Leon couldn't blame her. Stupid dumpster puppies.

The rest of the car ride was short and painless. Sophie didn't dare to let go of the handle connected to the passenger door, knuckles turning ghostly white from the grip she held to it. And Leon now was hyper focused on the road and surroundings along with it. He felt he'd done enough damage in the short period of time already and refused to dig a deeper hole he already was practically buried in. Being the one he was throwing theoretical dirt over top of his casket six feet in the ground. Leon didn't want to say anything, but the silence was almost deafening, and it was starting to cause a slow burn of anxiety. Although he didn't believe he truly deserved the comfort because he just pushed the girl into a huge tidal wave of emotions that he was mentally beating himself into a pulp over. No doubt Chris would be physically doing so if Sophie uttered a single word about it along with never trusted Leon to take her home ever again. Leon wasn't one for silence. But the small girl in the passenger's seat seemed like the silent type, leaving him in an impossible situation. He didn't bother to turn to her for a conversation or anything of the sort. He wasn't too sure if he could carry it on, anyway. His eyes sewn together in distress. The far to familiar feeling of his stomach twisting into knot after knot, the walls of his throat clenching as they were slowly closing to cut air flow. The forming beads of sweat littering his palms that where firm to the wheel, almost completely slipping from the leather each time he made a turn. The anxiety he tried so desperately to rip away from since he was the bright blue eyed 21-year-old rookie so many years ago. But, no matter how much he tried to run, hide, shove it down-- anything. It was always still there. A lurking emotion ready to swallow him whole. When the motion of the jeep finally faltered, parking in the abandoned driveway Sophie felt a ting of relief wash over her heightened nerves, more than happy to finally be home and more importantly, not moving. Leon tried not to make a mental note of how ecstatic the girl seem to be to finally escape his company- sure it was awkward and of course he understood a little further looking back on the near accident he caused but it wasn't that bad, was it? It never dawned on him that the average civilian life was far different than the one he was forced into.

The life he was plunged into after the horrors of Raccoon City. Forced to take part in high military training that nearly took his life the first week of it, not that he didn’t already want to take that opportunity and be the one to end it himself with a single bullet to the skull but it left him almost bitter. The thought of the government being the one to kill him instead of himself was the more pitiful thought. The mere place that stripped him of his entire personality, took away any hope of him to escape this nightmare and try to muster up that average lifestyle he now only ever dreamed about. He was nothing more than the shell of the puppy like boy he was forced to leave behind much sooner than he had hoped for.

So when near death experiences tend to rise it doesn’t quite strike him as shocking but instead the average daily occurrence in his life. Leon shook the question from his mind, protruding behind Sophie with his hands plunged deep into the fabric of his pockets and playing gentleman. If he was going to start off the night acting as such, he mise as well end it the same way. He'd never paid much attention to her at all before, mainly because he was far too deep and drowning in his exhaustion or his work to notice, but he could see her. Very clearly, actually now that she was walking in front of him. For starters, she was tiny. For some reason, Leon just couldn't wrap that around his head-- Her brother was Chris Redfield, her sister Claire and even though he'd seen things over 12 feet tall the two siblings where one of the tallest he'd ever met. How the hell was the girl under 5'0? Did the genes just stall out once they got to her? He could probably plainly ask, and she’d tell him. Leon could probably ask Sophie a lot of things and she’d tell him. If he hadn’t almost killed the both of them on the short car ride to her house, perhaps. Under different circumstances where he didn’t have the girl quivering in her seat and latching on to anything in sight, maybe.

The front door to the Redfield residence opened only a few seconds after Sophie was knocking, and Claire was currently standing on the other side. Her eyes fitted between the two, eyebrows raised until she noticed the two familiar faces and the expression that was once confusion was nothing more than genuine surprise and a hint of cheer in her eyes. It was a genuine surprise for Claire to see Leon there. Not that he didn't come around often because he was almost at the house everyday, if not every other day but it was odd to see him with her little sister rather their older brother. She got the hint though, as Sophie stepped in through the door after Claire moved to allow her inside. "Chris was still busy at the firing range," He heard her murmur, "So Leon drove me home." Leon winced. He was hoping the younger girl wouldn't go about mention to Claire about mere moments ago on the road, for he'd appreciate being able to live another day before being pummeled to death. "I'm sorry I was late," Claire just let a soft chuckle slip, "Sophie, you're 25 years-old," Claire's hand rested gentle on her forearm, "You're no teenager running late on curfew." An internal feeling of relief washing over Leon, watching as the small girl chose to keep the incident as just their little secret. Feeling lucky enough the girl had some mercy on him. "Right.." She was used to Leon bringing Chris home, for the men often went out late on the town to a close by bar where both would drink for a while. Most times however, Chris would get smashed out of his fucking mind more nights than just one, forcing Leon no other choice than to escort his mate stumbling in through the front door. All while trying to keep himself upright in the process as well. Or nights where the two stayed a bit later than intended at the office to read over case after case before finalizing anything. She was just having a hard time understanding how on earth Chris conned her into going with him in the first place. "Thank you, Leon," She allowed Sophie to file past into the house, "I'm sorry you had to go through the trouble of bringing her home. I'm not quite sure why she didn't just call me but I appreciate it." Leon just nodded. "It's alright," shrugging his shoulders. He wasn't quite sure what else to say, "it's not a bother." "How was the training?" Her voice lowering almost to a hushed tone. For some reason, finding the topic inappropriate for their younger sibling despite her being a 'big girl.' Claire just didn't see the purpose of bringing it up around Sophie because in some sort she felt it may tarnish that innocent mind of hers and Claire just couldn't handle doing that. Leon frowned slightly, taking note of the sudden change in her demeanor. Then chose to yet again, shrug, "Same old, same old. Muscle are achy and tired. I feel like an old man." "You are an old man." "Watch it, Redfield." This made Claire smile. She loved Leon dearly, for he was like another piece of family to her and has been since Raccoon City-- If anything happened to that man, she had no idea what she'd do. Especially knowing the mental torment Chris went through. She could only imagine the things Leon tortures himself with late at night inside his own head. She worried over him more than she'd care to admit. "Well I should probably head out," Leon said, slipping one hand from his pockets to direct his thumb behind him. Throat clearing as he begun to back away from the front door, "my bed is calling my name." "Right," Claire gave a soft nod, "I'll let you head out. You deserve some sleep. And Thank You again, Leon." "Sure thing," His smile was small, but Claire learned that, that was enough. He wasn't exactly the smiling type of guy. At least not anymore. "I'll see you sometime soon, I'm sure." "Right. I'll see you Fri-" "Oh.. Is he headed home?" The sound of Sophie's small voice was the reason he faltered in his tracks, coming to almost an immediate stop. Surprised when he peered over his shoulder to see her head peaking out from behind Claire in the doorway.

He had convinced himself that she'd crashed out on the couch or even made the efforts to drag herself up the small flight of steps to her bedroom, but apparently not. Instead, she managed to swiftly stray her old clothing and slip into something more appeasing for the night. The attire consisting of pastel pink matching sleep set of Bugs Bunny, for it had the cocky bastard of a rabbit slapped right in the center of her crop top along with the same image down the left pant leg of her pajamas. Only difference was it was much larger on the leg than in her shirt. "Yeah," Claire shifted over, "Would you like to say goodnight?" Sophie knew what she was hinting at. Her sister had never made it difficult on what she expected from her younger sibling and the manners needing to be used and right now, Claire was gesturing for Sophie to say thank-you. She stepped forward, her head ducking under Claire's arm to get a better view of Leon outside. She had a gentle smile on her face now, she looked far more calmer now that she was in the comfort of her own home. "Thank You," He couldn't help but return the same gesture to her, finding it very hard not to find her gentle demeanor amusing. Now that she wasn't anxious, huddled against the passenger side door or silently praying under her breathe to just be home. He could find it in himself to muster up a reluctant nod of his own for her. "Not a problem, Soph."

[noelle666]

Pathologic fanfic - A Little Mouse. Part 1

I have a brainrot for several days, a strong one, I need to put on a paper. I'm sure it might be interesting only to me and maybe to 1,5 groundsmen but anyway it's mostly for me cause... I just can't hold it anymore.

There will be two parts (for one the story in my head is too big).

Part 2 is here.

Daniil Dankovsky x fem OC Events soon after Pathologic Bunch of other OCs (because we need scientists) Definitely will be some OOC because I don't really remember Daniil's personality and events of the game related to "Thanatica" but I read the article on Pathologic wiki so... Hope it helps.

A train arrived to the Capital; Daniil heard a train conductor's voice saying goodbyes to passengers. The young man was sitting and looking though the window: the city was the same and different at the same time. Was it an influence of the Steppe? Or were Aglaya's words true after all? No, no, she was bluffing, she definitely wanted Bachelor to work on the edge of his abilities and stress could've been a nice tool in that situation. Thanatica still stands, one cannot break it easily with brutal force, the scientist was sure of it. He blinked and stood up - no sence of postponing the inevitable anymore. He took the tram which will bring him "home" if this "home" still exists.

In 20 minutes Dankovsky arrived to the destination. It is here. It stands. Thanatica is alive, the light and shadows are seen through the windows, which means it was not closed and collegues are still working. Daniil entered the building, and scared and worried men and women surrounded him: they were interrogated, yes, but members of the Inquisition left Thanatica as sudden as they arrived. Scientists were feared they've been watched, they acted carefully while their leader was far away fighting mysterious illness not by his will. But after all Aglaya was bluffing. Thanatica will always be alive. And now it is also free. Bachelor quickly checked his cabinet - some documents were not on their places, but nothing strange here - collegues might've used them for their research. As for the other detailes, everything looked as usual. Inquisiton would've turned everything upside down but it seemed such actions were not needed. Daniil talked to scientists left in charge and left the building. The day was on the way to its end, and a little rest won't harm.

The next day Bachelor arrived early in the morning, as he usualy do. With lots of energy, he studied almost every centimeter of his cabinet merely to yet again make sure nothing is lost or destroyed. Then, he checked laboratory and spoke with his closest collegues: Alexey Martynov, a bulcky, tall and calm man who can be found either among flasks and reagents or on the porch smoking a sigarette at least five times a day, and Maxim Grachov, talented, sharp-minded, popular with women and sometimes very annoying towards Dankovsky (to such an extent Bachelor was ready to punch Grachov to his smug face). If anything or anyone can be a measure of any changes, these two could be perfect examples: if they act as usual even on the brink of catastrophe, it means the disaster is not that bad. Thankfully, they were working as they always did, so nothing wrong with the laboratory too. Collegues shared recent news, and Bachelor left them to came back to his cabinet.

Hours passed unnoticed, skyes turned very dark and rain starded pooring mercilessly. "And I don't even have an umbrella", - thought Daniil. He could've stayed and sleep on a couch as he did several times but decided to go home. "Maybe I am lucky and won't get too wet". On a porch he saw a young woman he's never seen before: short, long brown hair decorated with light grey ribbon, dark clothes, large cane umbrella. She looked at Daniil, and Bachelor noticed her face looks a little bit dollish: fair skin, big blue eyes. The young man looked up to the skyes and then down to puddle on the ground. He was ready to go but saw a small elegant hand holding umbrella right in front of him.

"Please, take it. You are a scientist, you must not get sick".

"What about you?"

"I... I am as it is", - the young woman handed over her umbrella to Daniil and quickly went away.

"What a strange specimen", - Bachelor's gaze folowed an unknown new aquaintance up to the moment she dissapeared in a wall of rain. He opened his "sudden present" and went to a tram station.

The next day Dankovsky visited Thanatica's archive, the only place, as he thought, his new aquaintance could be: she didn't look like a person of science (Daniil's insight always could tell it), and only couple of people far from thanatology were working in the building, here, in the archive. The lead archivist, Olga Konstantinovna Voronova, greeted the young man: a middle-aged woman, stocky build, melodic voice, a person very picky and attentive towards little things. Daniil asked her about a young girl who probably works here, and, as expected, his suspicions were confirmed: the name was Martha, she started working as junior archivist the day after Bachelor departer to the Town-on-Gorkhon.

"A fussy lass, thinks quickly, responsible, polite, very good handwriting. She left the archive several minites before you arrived, went to Grachov to get some analitics or analisys. She works hard, you know, stays until late evening. She lives somewhere close to Thanatica, comes here by foot, I think. I will tell her to visit you".

"No, thank you, I'll come again by the end of the day".

Late evening, the most part of thanatologists left their working places, only few of the most stubborn ones (or those who had no one at home to wait for them) were staying occupied with researches and experiments. Rain started floading the Capital again. Daniil was walking through the coridor towards the exit and the archive located near to it: door was slightly opened, Bachelor noticed a light of lamp standing on the farest table at the cornen or the room and a silhouette of a young woman writing somehing in a notebook. It was so quiet once could hear a fountain pen scratching paper.

"A little mouse", - Daniil said these words barely audible, he knocked the door and entered the archive. Martha raised her gaze and almost jumped out of the chair.

"Good evening", - Daniil greeted her and put an umbrella on a table, - "This is yours. Thank you for lending me this umbrella".

"Oh, it's nothing, really. But... It is raining again and you..."

"Please, do not worry, I cannot allow myself use your kindness once more. And, as I can see, you also have no umbrella with you today".

"Oh... I can manage".

"Chances to get sick raise each time you walk under rain. I cannot allow people who work here waste their health so easily. I have a compromise, if you allow it: I can accompany you to your house. I owe you a little service, after all, and I don't like to have debts. It will make us even".

The young woman nodded, she changed a white robe, the same every Thanatica's member was wearing, to a coat and turned the lamp light off. Daniil and Martha left the building, they passed two residential blocks and went into the yard dimly lit by street lights. The young woman stepped on a porch, turned around and looked at her companion, standing next to her, too close it could've broken every boundaries of decency but in their case such closeness was necessary. She was about to thank Daniil, even though their little travel was silent, when a bright lightning cut the dark skyes and thunder rolled overhead in a deafening wave; rain had no plans to stop, on a contrary, its power grew much stronger.

"Please, come inside!"

Martha quickly closed her umbrella and opened the door, she was holding it waiting Bachelor to come in, and he had no other choice but to follow her lead.

"It seems luck abandoned me. Oh well", - Daniil thought to himself.

"Feels like the weather hates us now", - Martha looked through a window next to the entrance door, - "Please, follow me. My apartment is on the third floor. I'll make you tea to warm you up and wait out the downpour".

So, that's it, so easily and quickly. Usually young lady could've invited a man to her apartment only after several meetings or dates, well, if it was a lady of strict morals. Daniil recalled Eva Yan who, in a middle of a night, was very generous allowing him to stay at The Stillwater, an intruguing, charming and loving, very opened and ahead of the time (in a way) young woman she... was. Was. Bachelor shook off the memory and followed Martha. She definitely was not like Eva, she's strickter, more humble (at least it was his first impression), but they both had the same desire to care about the others. At least the young woman walking upstairs right in front of Dankovsky wanted to care about him for some unimaginable reason. Or maybe there was no reason at all - human's soul and mind are tricky things.

The young woman took keys out of her bag and opened two locks, she entered dark coridor and pulled the cord of the lamp on the wall to the left - a "beacon" appeared in the middle of thick darkness.

"Come in. My place is pretty humble, but please, make yourself at home. Oh, and it is not necessary to take off your shoes".

The girl was cunning: yes, rooms of her apartment were rather small, but there were three rooms which, for many, looked too posh for a single tenant. Martha neatly took off her coat, changed boots to slippers and went to a living room to turn the light on; the young woman opened wet umbrella and put it on the floor next to a window and went to another room to the right of the entrance coridor.

Daniil entered a living room, small yet cozy passage room, big window on the right, furniture on the left: a book shelf, a little couch for two people, a table, two chairs and a commode the wall above which was decorated with a small painting of flowers in vase and a clock. The young man came closer to a book shelf, he started studying it: mythology, art albums, philosophy, floriculture brochures, classic literature both domestic and foreigh, gothic literature, et cetera, et cetera.

"Are you hungry?' - a familiar voice distracted Bachelor from contemplation of books. - "I have a raspberry pie, it's a bit dry though since I made it yesterday, but edible. And... I can make some open sandwiches".

"A pie would be enough, thank you!"

Daniil took out one of albums and sat on a couch to occupy himself while the mistress of this house is busy with late dinner preparations. Time was flowing in a odd manner, maybe because of rain, maybe because the atmosphere of that little flat somehow distorted the perception of reality; even ticking of wall clocks sounded blurred. He finished wathing half of the album when clocks' mechanism became alive, and sonant "ding" filled the space - half past nine. The last tram departed from the nearest to Thanatica station at nine and the closest one will arrive only at eight in the morning. "Uh, stuck in another adventure. Out of the frying pan into the fire", - Dankovsky closed his eyes and sighed trying to focus and think about the plan of further actions. Some part of his mind was sure the kind young woman will allow him to stay since rain has no desire to stop, but backup plan is always needed, just in case. He heard soft footsteps: Martha entered the room holding a tray with two cups of tea, two plates with pie pieces, sugar bowl and cutlery - with all this in her hands she looked even smaller than before. Dankovsky stood up and helped her, the young woman smiled confusedly, she led him to the bathroom so the guest could wash his hands. They had dinner in silence although it didn't feel awkward.

"You haven't told me your name", - Bachelor took last sip of tea out of a cup and looked at Martha. The woman's cheeks turned pink.

"Forgive me for being impolite. Martha. Martha Kuznetsova".

Of course he already knew the answer, but was curious about the reaction.

"And, I suppose, you know who I am".

"Oh yes, you are the founder of Thanatica, a brilliant scientist mister Dankovsky, Daniil... sorry, I can't recall your patronymic".

"Just Daniil".

He continued asking Martha questions: how she learnt about Thanatica, why decided to work there, other common and harmless questions about her hobbies. It did and did not looked like an interrogation at the same time; the young woman wasn't sure her interlocutor was truly interested in her, his collegues told her Daniil Dankovsky is a very passionate person regarding thanatology and science in general, he is a workaholic and even though he can get along with some people, they are not very interesting to him. Or so people said. For her person in front of her didn't look like a souless machine: Bachelor was looking at her attentively with his dark amber eyes, smiling faintly from time to time. Martha had no abilities to analyze people but believed every person had at least something good inside - you just need to find it, like a well hidden treasure.

Another single "ding" broke the line of conversation - half past ten, time to go to bed.

"This is a guest room. I've never had guests before since the moment I moved into this apartment, but do not worry - the room is clean and not dusty. If you need to use bathroom, please, feel free, you will find clean towels on a table next to a sink".

"No worries, Martha, I am a very humble guest and don't need much".

The young woman nodded and left her guest. Daniil took off his crimson jerkin, slightly unbutton white shirt, took off his boots and laid down on a bed which looked new and felt new. She was right, no one ever slept here. Does she have any friends? Family? Daniil's gaze was piercing white ceiling; after some time his mind was ready to dive into a slumber when he heard soft knocking. He got up and opened the door: Martha was standing right before him, her hair was loose, she definitely was preparing to go to sleep too. She was holding something in her hands.

"Forgive me once more for bothering you, but I completely forgot. here, it is an allarm clock. If it won't bother you, tell me when do you usually wake up? So I could get up a bit earlier to make breakfast".

"Martha, you already did so much for me. I owe you once again".

"What? No! No, no, I am doing this not to make you my debtor but because I merely wanted to help a good person".

"You think I am a good person?' - Daniil chuckled.

"Yes", - Martha answered firmly.

Daniil smiled again: what a strange specimen indeed.

"Eight in the morning. But please, no breakfast. Tea will suffice".

The young woman smiled.

"Good night, mis... Daniil".

"Good night to you too, Martha".

Dankovsky lied down to a bed again and closed his eyes; a rithmic sound of falling raindrops worked as lullaby, in several minutes Bachelor's mind was swallowed by a deep slumber.

[eyes-of-mischief]

weekly fic recs | 38

prompt: vehicle

fandoms: dc, hq, mdzs, yoi

bnha

Futureproof by Signed_Selcouth

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence)

All Izuku has left from before are a pair of rings tucked in his shirt, some scars, a safety deposit box he can’t open til he’s 18, and a phone number that Izuku uses to call Auntie once a month, just to let her know he’s alive.

dc

Captain's Privileges by Skalidra

(explicit)

“Lieutenant Jason Peter Todd.”

Jason grits his teeth and just barely resists the urge to spit his mouthful of blood at those shiny black shoes.

“You know, I was expecting a lot of interesting things on this planet, but you certainly didn’t feature among them, Lieutenant.”

It’s his mouth that gets him in trouble, always has and he knows it. But still, he tilts his head up far enough to glare at the smiling son of a bitch looking down at him and snarl, “Guess you’ve got a shitty imagination, Captain.”

haikyuu

teach me the way home by icespyders

Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because — because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

secrets/revelations by norio

Bokuto wasn't the type to run away, but Akaashi was probably the type to follow. / Akaashi thought he would have to kill Bokuto one day.

On Your Marks by awkwardedgeworth

He gives the pit lane one last look. Sakusa and Komori are shoulder to shoulder, grinning at each other as they're surrounded by their crew and mechanics. Atsumu looks at the way Sakusa's eyes are crinkling in the corners, how he's laughing.

In the air, he hears chants of Sa-ku-sa! Sa-ku-sa!

Atsumu takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders and walks away.

mdzs

flight of the birch tree by bleuett

There is a man who rides the subway with Wei Ying at the same time. Wei Ying falls in love with him every day.

-

“Do you have a favourite animal?”

“Penguins,” Wei Ying answers immediately. “They’re silly. And gay.”

Lan Zhan only blinks.

“Like me,” Wei Ying adds.

Lan Zhan turns his head and Wei Ying is caught in his gaze. “You are silly.”

wait a little longer by vokdas

Sitting in the passenger seat while his boyfriend drives at a reasonable speed is one of the most frustrating things in the world. Jiang Cheng has never had a problem with Lan Xichen’s driving, but he’s also never had to rush to the hospital upon hearing that his brother is in the hospital, and that is more than enough firsts for today.

(Or: Jiang Cheng learns a thing or two about Lan Wangji while they sit in Wei Wuxian's hospital room.)

a tide in two seas by occultings (microcomets)

A midnight train, two unexpected encounters, and a rift in spacetime.

yoi

Twenty-Five Hours by 0lizzybennet0

(mature)

In which Yuuri spends a 25 hour flight next to Victor Nikiforov, skating legend, and feels it might simultaneously be the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him.

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on Ao3

Rated M

The high collared throat of his jacket couldn’t mask the canned air of Shinjuku Station. Japanese Metro facilities were usually pristine compared to those overseas, but most passengers were blind to the Residual matrix littering the city’s above and underground railways. Scrutinizing the luminescent stains on the walls, Satoru swiped his IC card on the scanner and headed towards the boarding dock, waiting with some other strangers for the midnight train to take him home. Not that he was itching to return. He needed time to himself, to mull over recent events.

“You’re the reason she’s here…”

For the upteenth try, the white-haired Sorcerer jammed his left hand into his pocket, twirling the irritable ring with his thumb, hoping with enough persistence it would pop off, but it was useless. The little collet dug into his skin with every vehement twist, every tug. The Six Eyes essentially made him a Jujutsu locksmith, an exorcizing Houdini, but no matter how much he pulled, twisted, scraped, or bit, the ring stayed on. He wanted so badly to incinerate the gold like he did the Curse from the previous night. The girl needed the protective charm, not him. If it weren’t for the Reverse Technique, his finger would be rawed red by now. He heard a merry jingle chime through the intercom.

“Rapid train will be arriving at platform 10 shortly,” announced a placid voice. “For your safety, please wait behind the yellow line. We thank you for your cooperation.”

Lights shone in the distance, reflecting off his shades. He forfeited the ring when the train emerged from the tunnel and hissed to a rolling stop. Sliding doors opened and Satoru boarded the coach, peering over his shoulder to make sure no one suspicious was following; a habit amongst his lot. Nope. Just the typical old ladies and salarymen this time, their thermographic silhouettes colored in blobs of red and orange. Perfectly normal.

“Doors are now closing,” the conductor spoke. Satoru was only half listening. “This is a Chūō Line train bound for…Priority seating is reserved for elderly, handicapped passengers, expecting mothers…” Eventually the metro moved with a jolt. His stance kept him from falling over, though he refused to take a seat because, like most trains he typically rode, neon residue caked almost every square surface of the coach, from the handlebars to the chairs. It wreaked of Cursed Energy, decayed and cold. Satoru lifted his boot off the floor to inspect the wad of paranormal entrails ruining the Italian leather. Makoto’s sure to kill me when I get home, he thought. It would take more than a bucket of bleach to wipe this shit off. Frustrated, he brought the boot down, squishing the residue under his weight until he heard the coach groan from the force. Anger churned inside him, festering, growing hotter. Damn them. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

How was it that he, the strongest Sorcerer alive, descendant of the Vengeful Spirit, Sugawara no Michizane, inheritor of the Six Eyes and the Limitless, the first Gojo to possess both Cursed Techniques in over 400 years, had somehow been bested by a couple of old fogies and a foreign aristocrat he’d never heard of until very recently?

Satoru stared out the window, listening to the “tha-chuck, tha-chuck” of the monorail passing over the tracks. Tokyo blurred into smoke. His mind wandered back to the moment his life forever changed. That cold, gloomy trip he made to England four months ago.

A portly man with a balding head, wearing what must’ve been expensive coattails, sat across a lacquered table, the Cuban in his right hand emitting chalky grey fumes, while jeweled fingers tapped the table rhythmically. The fat bastard was enjoying himself too much for Satoru’s liking and the tobacco was starting to give him a headache, combined with the harsh glare curoscating through Roccoco chandeliers. Everything about this interaction offended him; The heady smoke, the bright lights, the three-piece Brioni he’d been forced to wear, which quickly became too hot, and then this Oswald Cobblepot wannabe sitting before him, all smug, dressed like a cliché supervillain just asking to get punched. It took immense restraint not to grab hold of the cigar and shove it down the earl’s suilline gullette. He hated this man. He hated this place.

As if sensing his contempt, the earl puffed another heaping cloud. “Gentlemen,” he crooned. “To what do I owe the honor?” His voice caused the muscles along Satoru’s jaw to tighten. Honor? What did this motherfucker know about honor?

One of the elders spoke amidst their small caravan, rising from his seat. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Thames,” he answered emphatically. “You know why we’re here.” He drew himself up stiffly. “We’ve come for the seer.”

Thames flashed his ivory stained teeth. “Ah, yes,” he relished gleefully. “Why, of course you have. How silly of me to think otherwise.” He flicked the cigar ashes on a tray, leaning back into his chair that accommodated his rotund girth. “But I am a man of principle, you see? They say there hasn’t been a living seer in — what — one hundred, two hundred years, or so? Given that reason alone, I couldn’t possibly hand her over to you free of charge, now, could I? No. That would be bad business on my part. Very bad business.” He twisted the coarse hairs in his beard, before taking an indulgent drag from his Cuban. His eyes sharpened. “Name your price, Jujutsu Sorcerers. If I find your negotiating skills up to snuff, she’s yours for the taking.”

And negotiate they did, each side throwing out numbers in rapid succession, turning them down, then proposing new ones. But Satoru broke from the proceedings when the amount reached eight figures, opting to take in the room instead. Anything to keep his mind off the money and what they were using it for.

He made quick inventory.

Two…

Six…

Fifteen….

Twenty display cases oriented themselves around velvet settees and ottomans, stocked with just about every treasure one could fathom; opal lozenges, slabs of lapis lazuli the width of dinner plates, columns of verdant emeralds and tsavorites, their raw conchoidal fractures glinting under the lights. Magenta spinels faceted to metal rods. Satoru could tell by the inclusions embedded in the gemstones that they weren’t fakes. Their incessant brilliancy meshed loudly with the Savonnerie botanicals carpeting the floor, not including the infrared radiation he was attempting to suppress. His eyes felt like they were shrinking. He’d forgotten his sunglasses back in London. Infinity blocked the tobacco from reaching his nose, but it couldn't screen the myriad of light and invisible color from assailing his vision. Hell. Makoto was right. He should’ve brought the Bufferin tablets with him when he had the chance. Spreading his tongue between his molars, he tried in vain to relieve the growing headache from clamoring up the nerves in his skull. His head pounded furiously like waves hitting a rocky promontory, innumerous, unceasing. Don’t think too much, he told himself. Keep looking.

In one curio table lay a medieval manuscript, its Latin faded and withered upon dog-eared parchment. Another case held an impressive mini replica of a seventeenth century galleon, bedecked with ten sails, The Naiad painted on both sides of its bow; Faberge eggs, gold coins, jadeite bottles, enameled pill boxes, silk tapestries threaded with mollusk and sapphire beads, portraits of dead people hanging on red damask, junk, junk, junk. It’s all junk to him. Of course, his Six Eyes noticed other things normal eyes could not.

The billions of microscopic dust particles hovering in the air like fallout. An overlapping stitch puckering from a brocaded cushion on the other end of the room. Switching to infrared for a short spell, he saw volts of bright electricity thrumming outside cables in the walls. And scurrying under the floorboards were three little mice, their rodent cheeks stuffed with kindling. There was probably a nest somewhere the occupants weren’t aware of. He smirked at the thought. Served them right.

However, a bronze instrument, a lyre, was mounted to a wall near an old grandfather clock. Might've been the oncoming headache, or the tobacco smoke, but he swore the polymer wires strung between the harp were not so. They held an unusual sheen to them, keratinous, humanlike. He could make out the individual filaments in the strings, black and shiny, too thin in diameter to be horsehair, but that wasn’t the creepiest part about the room.

A mural of naked mermaids luring sailors to their deaths stretched across the ceiling above him, their long hair and pearly smiles beguiling. Some men looked away in abject terror, while others leaned in for a fatal kiss, the ship going down in the middle of a raging sea. Satoru snorted, thinking the panorama a tad histrionic. They were nothing like Japanese mermaids with mouths like monkeys and golden fish scales. But now that he thought about it, weren’t sirens supposed to have feathers? Whatever the case, the painting was frighteningly lifelike, he’d give them that. Perhaps if he stared long enough, one of the feminine creatures would leap out of the watery fresco and pull him under. He almost wished it would because the sound of flesh-on-flesh cemented in a firm handshake told him the proceedings were over. A bargain had been struck. All they needed then was his signature to solidify the deal.

That evening in Berkshire, Gojo Satoru purchased his bride for a whopping thirty million pounds sterling, close to four and a half billion in Japanese yen, essentially pocket change. Well done, Satoru, he mocked as he signed his name upon the dotted line. You are here by guilty of human trafficking. However, it wouldn’t be until his wedding day that the Sorcerer finally laid eyes on the woman he would call his wife.

“Train is now stopping.”

The train slowed to a crawl, jerking him forward a little as it came to a halt. The pulsing in his head abated. Tobacco smoke feathered out. Lord Thames’ crooked smile vanished into the night and the doors slid themselves open. This was his stop.

Satoru exited the train and stepped onto the outdoor platform, hearing the locomotive speed off shortly after. The April chill had yet to recede and it smelled like macadam and fresh rain. By his estimation, the school campus was approximately three miles away. Through the dense pine brush, he could make out the striped road leading up the highlands, a couple kilometers north from the Meiji no Mori Takao National Park entrance. His phone read 12:15 A.M. and a message from Makoto. “Dinner’s in the fridge,” her unobtrusive way of asking him where he is. He told her not to cook him anything since he’d gone out, but the housekeeper knew him too well. And after storming out of the izakaya, Satoru realized he hadn’t eaten much except a few bites of mackerel and a club soda. He was more than a little hungry. Better get a move on then.

He began the ascent, his residual stained boots scuffing the pavement as he trudged up the street, unconcerned with getting run over. Cars rarely made the drive here. He could walk in the middle of the road as much as he damned well pleased. Higher and higher he went, immersing himself into the tectonic rock and ancient pines, the painted asphalt looping this way and that.

Crickets hummed. Frogs croaked. The cool breeze wisped through his hair. Trees gently swayed and a break in the clouds revealed a waxing crescent moon, brightening the conifers in a pale lunar glow. Perched on a branch, a couple yards to his left, he spotted a scops-owl with blood and feathers emanating from its beak, a dead hawfinch caged between two talons. On the ground, a female tanuki rummaged through forest leaves for juicy beetles and wild berries, sniffing the air for predators. He watched an elegant sika deer cross a trickling stream and hedge its way deeper into the valley. There were no streetlights. It’s only because of the Six Eyes he's able to capture this nocturnal world, this thriving ecosystem. He stopped to admire it, the stars glinting above the mountaintops, untainted by Tokyo’s light pollution. What it must be like to be way up there, far away from this chaos and disorder.

Satoru felt as though he were mourning the aftermath of a death. The death of his old life for this new uncertain hell he’d woken up in. Years of ingrained Buddhist philosophy remind him that life is a series of impermanence, a constant flow of change. “All things are passing illusion.” wrote the wise monk, Kenkō. “What is there that remains unchanging?” Nothing, of course. Fighting this truth will only lead you further down the path of suffering and reactivity. In other words, he needed to “quit his bitching,” like Nanami so eloquently stated, and accept life’s unexpectancies for what they were; use “skillful means” to avoid getting struck by that “second arrow.” And yet knowing what he ought not, Satoru found himself despairing anyway, like he’d nose dived off the edge of a cliff and was waiting for the ground to flatten him. He’d already experienced this once before, the day his best friend walked out on him.

“Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?”

Right now? He wished he were neither.

Lost in himself, the Sorcerer wasn’t aware he was walking again until he approached the school entrance, moonlight reflecting off the mokoshi roofs like snow caps. The Gojo estate was located farther north off campus. Satoru made it past the temple gates, shuffled past the student dormitories, when suddenly a melodic sound reached his ears. A sweet sound akin to a woodwind instrument. He paused to listen. Weird. Who the heck was playing music this late at night? Now vaguely curious, he changed directions and headed towards the sound like a hound chasing a scent, desperate to reach its source. And the closer he got the more he understood the sound wasn’t recorded music, but a voice. Someone was singing from the women’s bathhouse it seemed.

There were no female students studying in Tokyo at that time. The voice was too young to be an elder or staff member, which meant...

Satoru bent over a little known hole in the wall and saw her.

“...A-mach air bhàrr nan stuagh ri gaillinn Fuachd is feannadh fad o thìr Bha mo ghaol dhut daonnan fallain Ged is maighdeann mhara mi…”

She was sitting on the edge of the pool, her smooth legs submerged in the steaming water. A towel was wrapped around her waist, but it wouldn’t hide much. Satoru's been involuntarily looking through clothing since he was four years old. That towel wasn’t gonna cover jack-shit. The naked plane of her back was exposed to him, wet and glistening. When she raised her arms to slide a toothed comb through her long garnet hair, he’d catch the sides of her breasts, and sometimes a lovely pink nipple would peep behind the mist as she continued detangling her wet tresses. The white linoleum channeled her song into ringing echoes, numbing his brain, curling around his insides. He felt his scrotum burgeoning against his thighs, swelling like a blimp. He couldn’t help himself really. She sounded so fucking good, so soft, so clear, like water welled from a spring; a crystalline soprano. Maybe if he just unzipped his fly and allowed himself to…wait.

What the hell was he doing? Was he under a Cursed Technique of some kind? Because, damn, it certainly felt like one.

“Chan eil mo chadal-sa ach luaineach Nuair bhios buaireas air an t-sìd' Bha mi'n raoir an Coire Bhreacain Bidh mi'n nochd an Eilean Ì…”

Seriously, what language was that? It was unlike anything he’d ever heard. English alone was gibberish, but this language was on a whole different level of strange.

Satoru had long believed there was nothing new for him to experience in this world. When Fushiguro Tōji plunged his “Inverted Spear of Heaven,” into his throat and enabled him to reach the level of understanding necessary to perform the Reverse Cursed Technique, and fuse Red and Blue to make Hollow Purple, what greater high was there? What earthly pleasure? What worthwhile goal? And if all things were passing illusion, what was the point? Even the activities that he used to enjoy no longer satiated him the way they once did; sex, video games, movies, sex, caffeine, pissing off Utahime, sweets, more sex, etc. Nothing wowed him, nothing excited him. He’d forgotten what it was like to live for the present, existing, more or less, in a perpetual state of lukewarmness. To put it mildly, he was twenty-four and bored.

Then Hannah Thames entered his life - or rather - she barged in, flipped his world upside down, and threw it off its axis, together with his sense of control.

She really wasn’t what he expected.

On their wedding day, with her chin wedged between his fingers, he couldn’t deny she was beautiful, though not in the conventional sense of the word. The partners he often coaxed into bed tended to be…well endowed. Hannah was dainty by comparison, tiny, fragile looking, someone he wouldn't have chosen for himself if given the option. However, her proportions weren’t entirely undesirable either; long hair, a cinched waist, moderately sized breasts, all of which he found annoying because he was hoping to find something not to like about her. But those eyes? Holy crap. He’d inscribe those verdant brown eyes to memory, along with her rich auburn hair, her tiny freckles scattered across her cheekbones that could only be seen up close, and her innocence. So much unadulterated innocence staring back at him he could almost choke. It didn’t take an expert to know she was a virgin, which twisted his stomach into knots. Made him nauseous, angry. Furious even.

Why!? he wanted to scream, grab hold of her shoulders and give them a fierce shake as she slid that ring onto his finger. Why would you do this to yourself? You stupid girl. Can’t you see? He could still feel his thumb on her lips, soft as rose petals. I’ll only break you.

Innocence? Satoru didn’t know what to make of innocence. The virtue held little value to him. Their marriage was simply a means to an end, a show of good faith for the higher-ups; He’d (begrudgingly) marry the foreign woman as promised, and in return, they’d offer him a teaching position at Jujutsu High. It didn’t matter whether she possessed The Sight, or that they wanted him to retrieve the Sukuna fingers. He wasn’t planning on taking their relationship a step further. Simple as that.

“...Seall is faic an grunnd na fairge Uamhan airgid 's òir gun dìth Lainnearachd chan fhaca sùil e Ann an cùirt no lùchairt rìgh..."

So, why did he feel like an asshole the moment he ditched her after the wedding? Why couldn’t he erase those innocent hazel eyes from his mind? When he held her in his arms last night, why had it scared him to imagine her with a bullet through her head? Like Amanai Riko all those years ago. And why the fuck did her voice make him wanna bust a nut right then and there like a adolescent teenager? Shit, what would Suguru do, if he were —

“That psychopath isn’t your friend, Satoru. He’s a traitor. A murderer.”

Gojo let out a quiet huff.

Right. Suguru’s gone, he thought, and he ain’t showing signs of coming back. Each passing day served as a reminder to Satoru that he was on his own.

The Sorcerer looked back through the peephole at the bathing woman, still singing at the water's edge, combing her long skeins of hair, oblivious she was being watched.

He then stared fixedly into his palm at the wedding ring on his finger. He flexed his digits, balled them into a fist and closed his eyes, listening to her sweet music drown every part of him and the onsen.

“Hù-bha is na hoireann ù-bha 'S ann le foill a mheall thu mi…”

He remained motionless, breathing calmly in and out of his nose to settle the uneasiness in his soul and the throbbing between his legs.

“...'S ann le foill a mheall thu mi…”

Satoru’s hand fell to his side, his will power slipping away.

He waited there, seconds, minutes, hours. He wasn’t sure. Hannah’s serenading eventually ended and he stopped to hear her petite frame exit the pool. He could hear water droplets plopping to the floor as she moved, remembering the curvature of her ass underneath that towel draped around her waist, how soft she looked, how supple. Then his mind reeled back to her breasts, fantasizing how those lovely pink nipples would feel inside his mouth, tightening and melting on his tongue. Tossing her wet hair to one side, the ventilation system caught wind of her scent just as she entered the hallway and brought it to his nose like a gift. She smelled like lilies after a morning rain. His brain went fuzzy, helping little to soften his erection as he finally acquiesced and brought a hand down to unzip his pants, eyeing the damp spot on his boxers as he filled out some more, groaning in relief. Ah, much better. He then panted a short laugh, unable to recall the last time he’d been this hard. By a voice, no less.

He should’ve been ashamed of himself for it.

But he wasn’t.

Instead, he became vastly intrigued. After all, he’s never been one to stay on the downlow for very long and any woman who’s able to arouse him this good is definitely worth “getting to know.” Maybe this’ll be fun. He’s never pursued a person like her before. I mean, if this is Hell, there’s no reason why it can’t be an enjoyable Hell, right? And she’s pretty easy on the eyes.

Fine, he ultimately decided. He’d cooperate just this once. And if he didn’t like it, he’d switch back to Plan A and keep his distance. For now though, he’d humour the idea and see where it took him.

This whole marriage thing.

Chapter Contents

[blossomreed]

Chapter 5 of The Dove and her Rooster [Bradley Bradshaw]

find all the parts here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're being called back to TOPGUN."

Those 6 words would change the couple's lives forever. But we're not there yet so let's go back.

After graduating from TOPGUN Victoria 'Dove' Kazansky and Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw were first sent off on two different missions, one being in Hawaii and the other in Virgina. They were apart for exactly 5 months, 13 days and 6 hours. Bradley counted.

Thankfully they both got out alive and after that were called to be a part of the VFA-87 Golden Warriors, together. You could imagine how happy they were.

At first they were both living at base but after a year or so decided to look for a house or apartment near by and move in together. It was a big step for them but they felt more than ready.

In the first year of living together they found out many things about eachother that they didn't know before. For example Bradley was a heavy sleeper and only his alarm could fully wake him up, his girlfriend took advantage of that not only to play pranks on him from time to time but also to make so many jokes about his callsign Rooster actually being a good fit.

On the other hand Victoria was a light sleeper. Almost every little sound woke her up, especially if it was out of the ordinary. The bad side of this is that she would often wake up tired and on some nights her brain would start overthinking and soon after she would be waking up poor Bradley because she was sure someone broke in. Suprise, suprise, each time, there was no one.

Bradley ended up buying a thicker front door with extra locks so his girlfriend would feel safer and stop waking him up in the middle of the night. He loved the girl but he also loved sleep.

Man, did he love sleep. One night when Victoria went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, on her way back she knocked down some books from the bookshelf. She cursed them out, of course and was sure that she woke the brunette man from his slumber. To her suprise, he was still, very much, asleep. It was that night that Victoria lost all hope for her partner but if she was being honest he looked really cute when he was sleeping so she didn't mind. At least this gave her the chance to explore the different ways she personally could wake him up, if you get what I mean.

Okay, let's go back to the Golden Warriors. As we speak, the couple were landing back down after a training session with some of their fellow colleagues. As they all talked about the training session while walking back to base, they were stopped by Admiral Solo who informed that Rooster and Dove were needed by Commander Archer.

Getting to the Commander's office they were immediately told to sit down.

"You're being called back to TOPGUN."

Dove was speechless, trying to wrap her head around the 6 words that were just spoken so Rooster asked the important question for both of them.

"Why are we being called back to TOPGUN sir?" the Commander let out a sigh as he leaned foward, "Honestly Lieutenant I wish I knew. All they told me is that they needed you two for a special mission, that's all I know."

Rooster nodded his head as the Commander told them when they needed to be back in Miramar and dismissed them, telling them to go pack and prepare to leave tonight as he handed them their airplane tickets.

Dove hasn't said a word for the whole ride back home, in all honesty, she was still trying to figure out everything. As Rooster parked his Frod Bronco he looked over at the passenger seat.

"Vic, sweetheart, you okay?" his voice and those four words were the thing that got the blonde woman out of her trance as she looked at the man next to her.

"Yeah, sorry. It's just...what is so important, what mission is so important that we're being called back to TOPGUN?" taking her hand in his Bradley looked at the girl, "I don't know but whatever it is, we'll get it done and go back home. Okay? No need to worry. Plus look at the bright side we'll get to spend time with your family and you'll get to attend Gavin's graduating ceremony."

A smile made it's way onto Victoria's face as she tought of her parents and younger siblings. They were all grown up now. When Victoria left for the Naval Academy alongside Bradley she was 19 years old. Today, Gavin was 18 and graduating highschool in a few days, Sophia is 21 just like Bradley was back then, studying to become a doctor and Rachel was turning 24 soon and finishing vet school.

The two made their way inside and decided to start packing right away, their flight was that night and lasted about 8 hours, Bradley's SUV would be arriving around at the same time as them which was perfect.

"Do you think 1 suitcase will be enough?" "Sweetheart, knowing you, you'll need 10 suitcases."

The blonde shot him a glare as he laughed.

"Very funny Bradshaw, watch out you might end up sleeping outside." that made him laugh even more as he went to hug her from behinde, "You love me too much to do that Kazansky." Victoria just said maybe baby as she put her hands over his. They stayed like that, enjoying the silence and the physical touch until the blonde spoke up.

"Baby we need to countinue packing." he let out a sigh as he buried his head into the crook of her neck.

"Five more minutes sunshine."

A smile covered her face instantly at the mention of that nickname. She has been with Bradley for so long but it still felt like day one sometimes.

They weren't perfect neither was their realtionship but they loved eachother and made it work each and every day.

That day they boarded their plane at 11pm or 2300 as the curly haired man kept saying.

"Hey little lady, it's okay to feel nervous or scared, flying is very scary. I'll hold your hand if you need me to."

Victoria let out a quiet whine as the words left his mouth.

"I was 19 and haven't flown in a while, stop reminding me of it."

Bradley chuckled as he planted a kiss on the woman's head.

When they landed around 7 in the morning the next day, they didn't even have to wait long for Bradley's car to arrive. They instantly drove to Bradley's family home in Miramar that he was still the owner of, not having the heart to sell it. After they got settled in, the couple decided to go to Victoria's childhood home straight away to suprise her parents and younger brother.

To both of their suprises Rachel opened the front door who looked just as shocked to see the two.

"Vic?? Brad?? Oh my god, hi!"

The oldest of the 3 younger siblings pulled them in a big hug which they gladly returned.

"What are you doing here Rach? Aren't you suppose to be at college just like Soph?"

Rachel looked at Bradley who asked the question and then at Victoria, confused at first but then her face fell.

"Oh...you guys don't know, do you?"

The couple were now even more confused but before they could say anything Rachel rushed them inside.

"Soph! Gav! Come down here, we have guests!"

Okay what the hell is going on here, Victoria tought to herself but before she could ask anything out loud the rest of her siblings came down and when they saw their two favourite people standing there, they quickly hugged them, being more than happy to see them.

After Rachel made everyone some coffee, they sat down in the livingroom to talk.

"Okay would any of you like to tell me what's going on and why are you all at home?"

The 3 younger siblings looked at eachother before looking at their sister, no one knew how to start or how to tell her.

"Dad's dying Vic..."

It was Gavin who decided to get straight to the point. Bradley immediately grabbed Victoria's hand in his.

"No, he's not. What are you talking about? I talked to him a few days ago, he was fine!"

Tears started to gather in her eyes, she couldn't lose him, he was suppose to live a long and happy life, see all of them get married, play with his grandchildren, all of it. He couldn't go now.

"The cancer is back and it's not looking good. Mom and dad are at the hospital to see if there's something the doctors can do but the chances are very small."

Victoria kept quiet. She was in shock. What could she say or do after finding out something like this? It wasn't fair, her dad didn't deserve this. As she wrapped her head around the new information given to her, the woman started to cry. Soon enough all 5 of them were crying. Tom Kazansky was deeply loved by everyone from his children to their friends to everyone at TOPGUN and the U.S. Pacific fleet where he was serving as Commander.

Her parents got home around noon just as the 4 siblings and Bradley were making lunch. Victoria dropped everything as she quickly went to hug her dad while Bradley shared a hug with Sarah as he filled them both in on why they were there which Tom knew of course, having selected the instructor for the mission himself but he wasn't gonna tell them that.

After lunch it was revealed that there is nothing the doctors can do except hope for a miracle. That was the news everyone feared and hoped not to hear.

Never the less both Tom and Sarah incouraged the two Lieutenants to go meet up with their friends at the Hard Deck tonight and to have fun. Tom especially didn't want anyone to mop around because of him. Before they left, Tom wrote a message on his phone to the couple.

'Take care of eachother, you've got something special together, don't forget that.'

They both hugged the older man tightly before leaving, promising to come visit everyday. When they got back to Bradley's house they both plopped down on the couch.

"Let's get married." Victoria looked over at Bradley with a confused look, "Honey we already are married. Have been for 7 years now. You feeling okay?"

Bradley let out a chuckle as he looked at his wife.

"I'm perfectly aware of that sweetheart. Remember how you always talked about wanting to get married at TOPGUN like your parents? But at the time we couldn't get ourselves nor our friends to Miramar at the same time so we ended up having a quick weeding in Virginia. Well your dad could probably pull a few strings and we could get married there, renew our vows plus your dad could get to see you get married at the same place he did."

Victoria tought about it for a few minutes.

"I mean that was my dream wedding and I could probably fit in my mom's wedding dress plus Mark and the kids could also be present like this."

15 years ago Victoria decided to forgive her biological mother, who was now dead for about 3 years. Her husband, Mark, was really nice and has struggled a bit since her death but was an amazing father to his two kids, her younger siblings, who were 18 and 16 now, well actually turning 16 in a few months.

Gavin and Sebastian were suppose to graduate together but when Diana died Sebastian started to fail in school and ended up failing a grade but no one could blame him, meanwhile Lenora was the complete opposite, she became a straight A student because she threw herself into school work after her mother's death.

"Great! It's a deal then. We'll do it as soon as possible, I'll swing by your parent's place before the Hard Deck and talk with your dad about it." she smiled at Bradley before giving him a peck on the lips.

"Thank you. For everything. You're an amazing friend and partner." "Like I said a long time ago, you deserve so much and don't ever forget that little lady."

It was times like this that made her glad that she had Bradley by her side. She was thankful to whoever put him in her life because she doesn't know what she would do without her rock.

tag list

@in-themountains @srry-itshockeyszn @fangirlinc @jonginvlog @evans-dejong @lovemesomevesey @winteryoungie @n3ssm0nique @monkeyyellowsunshine @needf0rspeed @nobody7102 @kanevill @tynabyna

[imaginationmess]

Vengeance (Toji Fushiguro X Fem! Reader)

Toji Fushiguro X Fem! Reader

Mafia AU!

Genre: Angst

Warning: Gun Violence, blood/gore, multiple deaths, canon character death

Word Count: 1360

This is an overdue angst piece for @konoblog-simps server collab. Enjoy the angst train!

The loud clunk of the storage unit door slammed open only bounces back down to close from the amount of strength from pulling the heavy garage door. The dark, muscular, tall figure flicks the lights on. The room brightens to reveal numerous weapons from ninja stars, throwing knives to different sorts of gun machinery.

The eyes of this individual were void of emotion, but his aura that gave off was deadly. His clothes are covered in a dry substance that was uncomfortable to continue wearing, as he strips himself from those clothes. As he is pulling his head out of the shirt for his eyes to fall on an old photograph causing him to bite his bottom lip before turning away to continue what he is planning to do.

The photograph was taken months prior during his son Megumi's sixth birthday, where his son was being licked by their two puppies mixed-breed husky dogs, Shadow and White. The black dog, Shadow was energetic and playful compassing to their twin sister, White who was calmer and timid. His son was laughing and begging the dogs to stop, how much he wants to turn back time to those happy moments.

While he was gearing up and strapping numerous knives and guns to his body. He picks up the black duffle bag filled with machine guns. He takes a moment to look around to fall on a family photo which was taken years ago where his beloved wife stood beside him hugging his arm. He was holding their son on his hip and ticking the child to make the grumpy toddler smile for the photo. He was kissing his wife's head, causing his wife to smile brightly and staring at him dearly which he happily returned.

His small family was his pride and joy.

He was the happiest man in the world.

It was eventually, abruptly ripped away from him, literally ripping them away from his hands when he was far away from them to even protect them from harm’s way, more like his dark bloody past came back to haunt him.

He requested, however, more like ordering by the grumpy toddler to get his snacks from the store. His wife took that opportunity for him to go out on small grocery shopping.

“You have Megumi’s Scooby snack, and m-.”

The older man sighs and nods despite knowing she couldn’t see him. He unlocks the door of the old pickup truck and gets into place the grocery bags on the passenger side floor.

“Yes, I got everything on the list as requested. Don’t worry, your pretty little head. I know how to follow instructions.” He places the phone on speaker as he starts to drive home.

“Whatever you say, Toji. Megumi! No running inside the house!” Toji smiles at the imagery of Megumi running and you scold him. He stops when he hears the dog going wild barking until it goes completely quiet. It was unusual for dogs to bark in general.

“Hold on, Let me check on the dogs, they were going crazy ab-” There was a loud crash and screaming echoing through the home phone. As a response, Toji steps on the gas pedal to speed up going beyond the speed limit and cutting people off getting honked at as a result.

Toji shakes his head to get rid of the memory before reaching on the handles of the black duffle bag filled with weapons and takes the keys to his black motorcycle. He walks towards the door before coming back to the wall where his family portrait rips it off from the pushpin from the wall and slips it behind the bulletproof vest.

The scariest thing in the world was a man who has nothing to lose after losing everything he cares about.

As he was driving past the speed limit on his motorcycle, he could still feel his son's blood on his arms, barely conscious. He knew his son was not gonna make it seeing how much blood he had lost and how pale he was.

For the first time in his whole life, he felt so hopeless, and weak. The thing he could do was comfort him until he passed away joining his wife in the afterlife.

“Is Ma-Mama okay? Did I do good?” The small six-year-old coughs up blood as he speaks.

Toji looks to the side of him to see you lifeless and not breathing. He knows Megumi used the pistol seeing how close it was to his body and saw a man bleeding out a few feet away from them. Toji taught him behind his wife’s back in case of an emergency if he wasn’t there to protect them.

“She is gonna be okay. You did an amazing job protecting your mother. You are the bravest little boy I ever met. ” Toji was holding himself back from crying in front of him, but had to be strong for his kid.

“I am not li-little.” His son wheezed out. Toji chuckles softly as he continues to hold him in his arms not caring if his son's blood was soaking through his clothes and holding his hand that is so small in his large palm.

“You will always be our little blessing, Megumi.” He slowly rocks himself, as he sees Megumi's eyes closing. He is at least relieved at the thought that his little body numbs the worst pain that he could feel.

“I am sleepy.”

“Go to sleep, Megumi.” Toji presses a hard kiss on the dark blue-haired boy's forehead, letting him cry when he feels Megumi stop breathing. He was silently moaning over his family deaths, he was interrupted by a cough which caused him to freeze.

The assassin was still alive despite being shot numerous times by his son and his wife.

A sickening smile came across his face at the thought tormenting them for answers.

Nothing was holding him back from his inner demons, from being a father turning back to his dangerous, selfish, self who he was before he met the love of his life.

A dangerous, deadly assassin and gangster who was famously known as the Black Wolf of the Zenin Clan, who didn’t care about anything other than money. A man who has no soul nor heart.

If he did have a heart and soul, it has vanished in thin air after his dear family was murdered by his clan that he left on his own accord. He was refusing their offers of coming back because he wanted Megumi to have a normal life unlike his.

There was no amount of money in the world that would make him go back to that abusive hellhole.

The motorcycle crashes through the doors of the mansion, as he stands tall and takes out two machine guns.

“I AM HOME!” He announces loudly before letting out a fire of bullets, not caring who was caught in the crossfire.

He is gonna do what he should have done a long time ago.

Was to murder every single one of them that make his life living hell in the daily basics.

He should not have given them mercy back in the day. They do not deserve it.

The only image that was going through his mind was his wife and his son smiling brightly at him. The blood splattering was covering every surface that was within those walls of the Zenin Property.

They never learned to not mess with him after he declared. He was leaving this dangerous life behind. He granted their wish.

He is now home. Not as a father, but as the same monster they created and trained him to be.

The Black Wolf.

Bonus:

Breaking News: The famously known Shadow Mafia was massacre earlier this morning today. There was no survivor insight at the current moment. Over hundred fifty was found dead and still counting as they investigated through the property. From the camera footage of the residence, the culprit seems to be Fushiguro Toji, before dying from his injuries.

The news station reveals the man that is named the culprit. He was giving a smug smirk on his mug shot.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Thank you for reading!

Feel free to send in your request :D,

Comments/Reactions are greatly appreciated!

MASTERLIST!

[dongofthewolf]

Omg I’m sorry for not realizing u had a list 😅 but I wasn’t wondering if u could do 41 with Abby and could u make it like rlly angsty but with some fluff or smut at the end

Everything Good in Life Seems to Lead Back to You

Abby Anderson X Reader

Prompt: 41. Overhearing they have feelings for you

Warnings: blood and injury, canon typical violence, swearing, fluff, angst (I tried anon I tried), Owen slander once again (sorry not sorry)

Gender neutral pronoun for the reader (if you’d like your request to use specific pronouns please add to the ask)

Link to the prompt list here

A/N: it’s safe to say that I wrote this with the speed of a thousand blazing horses if that even makes any sense. I hope that you all enjoy this lovely word vomit (esp if you requested) it was a blast to write !!

btw the Virginia Woolf reference is from her letters to Vita Sackville and the Jane Austen one is from Pride and Prejudice. What can I say? I guess I’m just a hoe for old love, baby.

Abby spent a lot of time reading; so much so that she had created this false expectation of what love was supposed to feel like. Abby believed that love was supposed to be strong, and passionate, and bright—an everlasting devotion. Of course she shrugged it off at first, they were just books after all—pieces of fiction to fantasize and dream about. Love wasn’t something you could define in a book nor could it ever live up to the likes of Shakespeare or Virginia Woolf.

Abby had never been in love; she sometimes believes she came close to some iteration of it when she was with Owen, but looking back now she realized that what she felt wasn’t love. It was a desperate attempt to be wanted—to be needed, a manifestation of her desire for approval. And after her falling out with him, Abby had come to accept that she simply wasn’t made for love, and that if by some miracle she ever did fall, it definitely wouldn’t be like the books.

That was Abby’s initial perspective on love, but oh how times have changed. The moment you waltzed into her life, every sad, pathetic notion she had about love was thrown out the window in a matter of seconds. Never in her most outrageous dreams did Abby expect to fall this hard, especially since the two of you were practically best friends.

In fact, it had been very platonic at first; Abby was your superior and you often worked together on missions. She didn’t know what compelled her to talk to you but when she did, the two of you hit it off immediately. You started training together, then working out together, and eventually you were spending almost every minute together. The two of you could literally correctly predict every thought that went through each other's head, all except of course (in Abby’s case) for one. It even got to the point where you both somehow knew when the other couldn’t sleep, so much so that Abby had grown accustomed to opening her door to see you holding a glass of milk and a plate of cookies like a little kid on Christmas. She had spent so many sleepless nights alone only to realize that the one thing she was missing, was you and your adorable midnight snacks.

Abby never entertained the thought of professing her slightly less than platonic feelings for you, because she had become content with the idea that you’d simply never feel the same. However, while she had come to accept her unfortunate situation to be a permanent one, it still hurt her when she saw you flirt with other people. And she’d be lying if she said your absentminded touches didn’t still send her soaring. Sometimes she hated how naturally affectionate you were, it made it so hard for her to not love you.

The box that Abby had continually shoved herself into so she wouldn’t fuck up your friendship was almost starting to feel like home, and as uncomfortable as it was, she knew it was for the best. Almost nothing could compel Abby to leave this torturous, self-inflicted prison she was trapped in. Almost nothing.

—

The mission was supposed to be a simple one: get in, get the weapons, get out. A mission so simple, the both of you could’ve done it in your sleep. In fact, on a few occasions after a long night of drinking, you had practically done just that. You met up with the group of traders who you were well acquainted with, and the deal went down smoothly. Everything was going according to plan, which is why you and Abby were completely caught off guard when a group of rogue hunters suddenly began firing shots like it was a fucking carnival.

Turns out there was a new rival group in town, and someone had tipped them off. You and Abby luckily were able to find cover from their relentless fire, but not before you got a bullet straight through your left thigh. You didn’t even realize it at first, the adrenaline coursing through your veins still working to protect you from the devastating pain that was to come. When you did notice it, you had already lost copious amounts of blood. Then the dizziness began to set in, and soon after the pain. Abby hadn’t even realized you were injured till you slumped over on the ground next to her.

Looking down in horror, Abby lifted you into her arms. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Why are y-” Then Abby noticed the blood, and suddenly she was panicking. “Oh shit. Oh fuck, Y/N we have to get you out of here.”

“T-the package, we need the package. Can’t leave without it.” Your response was weak, desperate. You had to finish the mission, the WLF was in dire need of these supplies and you were not going to be the one to tell Isaac you failed.

“Fuck the package, we need to get you back to base.” Abby removed her belt, turnoqueting your leg with such surprising ease that you nearly didn’t notice the agonizing pain in your leg. Nearly.

You groaned when Abby hoisted you into her arms bridal style, careful not to move your leg too much before she booked it to the truck. When she plopped you down into the passenger's seat and began to speed away from the scene, you suddenly felt your eyes becoming heavier. You were so tired. You had lost so much blood already and your body felt like it was shutting down.

Abby was frantically racing towards the base, eyes fixed to the road until she heard you let out a small whine. “Abby, I‘m so tired. Need to sleep.”

Abby noticed you drifting off and she reached her arm out to shake your shoulder violently. “No. No sleeping, you gotta stay awake Y/N.”

Though Abby didn’t mention it, she was terrified. When she looked over at you, you were pale and cold to the touch, drifting off while your leg continued to bleed profusely despite her tourniquet. This could be it; you could die right now, and Abby would have lost the one person in this world she cared about most. She couldn’t let that happen, she wouldn’t.

You were equally as terrified as Abby; every natural instinct in your body was begging for you to sleep and you were becoming tired of trying to ignore it. The last thing you remembered was the look on the face of the girl you had fallen for, her eyes brimming with tears while she wore a desperate, horrified expression.

—

You laid unconscious for what felt like an eternity and Abby never left your side. She had abandoned her duties (with Isaac’s permission) and spent every second next to you, her head resting on the edge of your bed while she waited for you to wake up. The only thing that prompted Abby to step away was Manny, who had heard what happened and went to check on her.

Manny knew full and well that Abby was in love with you; in fact, almost all of Abby’s friends knew. Abby had confided in him during many torturous nights and he was a surprisingly good listener. He understood her circumstances and never pushed her to confess her feelings for you, even if it did annoy him how oblivious Abby was to the fact that you obviously felt the same way. “Abby, I heard what happened. Is everything okay?”

Abby was exhausted, she hadn’t slept at all since you made it back to the base and she couldn’t get the memory of your cold, pale body out of her head. “I almost lost them, Manny. Y/N could’ve died out there without ever knowing how I feel about them.” Tears threatened to fall but Abby did her best to keep her composure.

“It’s going to be okay, Abby. Y/N’s here and they’re alive, and that’s all that matters.” Manny’s hand was on Abby’s shoulder, trying his best to comfort her. “You should tell them how you feel though.”

“Huh?” Abby hadn’t expected that. Manny knew her situation well enough to know that telling you how she felt was a bad idea… It was a bad idea, right?

“It’s like you said, Y/N could’ve died without ever knowing how you feel about them. Wouldn’t it be better to have no regrets at all?” The words stopped Abby in her tracks. She never thought she’d actually agree with Manny.

“It’s just- I love Y/N so much, and I don’t want to lose them this way.” Abby was on the brink of tears, her voice turning into a desperate plea.

“I’m not going anywhere Abs.”

Abby froze, turning around slowly. You were gripping to the doorway for support, limping on one leg and looking extremely weathered.

“Y/N!” Abby immediately ran to put your arm around her shoulder while she carried you back to your bed, setting you down carefully. “You shouldn't be on your leg, you could make it worse.”

There was genuine concern on Abby’s face and in that moment you weren’t sure you could love her any more than you already did. She was so incredibly sweet and caring and no one had ever shown this much concern for your safety and well-being. You had heard her through the door and you couldn’t stop yourself from interrupting her. There was so much about Abby you absolutely adored and she had no idea. How could she not have known you were hopelessly in love with her? Was she truly that oblivious to your obvious flirting? All the subtle touches, the pathetic excuses to sleep in her bed, the fact you literally went out of your way to find rare coins so you could bring them back to her, it all just flew over her head. You couldn’t believe it.

Abby was still rambling about your leg, clearly trying to pretend like she didn’t just profess her love for you while you were standing right behind her. Instead of speaking, you wrapped your hands around her neck before leaning in, silencing her with a kiss so perfect you could’ve passed out right there. You could tell she was stunned at first, but soon enough she was kissing you back. Her fingers were running through your hair and when you pulled away she leaned her forehead against yours, not wanting to part from you.

“Did you mean it?” You pulled away to look Abby in the eyes, your hands still wrapped around her shoulders.

Abby had a dumbstruck look on her face. “Mean what?”

“When you said you loved me, did you mean it?” Your eyes searched her face for an answer while your heart was beating a million miles a minute.

Abby smiled, her eyebrows furrowed as she spoke. “Y/N, I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I’m so hopelessly in love with you that it’s almost pathetic. You have no idea how essential to me you have become—how many nights I’ve stayed awake because you weren’t there to hog all the blankets. Y/N, you have no idea how ardently I love you.”

You smirked “Abigail Anderson did you just quote Virginia Woolf and Jane Austen?” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, Abby could be such a nerd sometimes.

“I just confessed my ever-lasting love for you and that’s the first thing you say?” Abby was smiling widely now, relief flowing through her now that she no longer had to conceal her feelings for you.

“I love you too Abs, so fucking much. Also I do not hog the blankets, your comforter is simply too small.” Abby chuckled before she leaned in for another kiss, the worry suddenly disappearing the moment her lips touched yours.

Although Abby had never really known what she expected love to be, this is what she imagines it’d feel like, and you bet your ass it was better than the books. To tell the truth, it was better than any other conceivable thing on this entire planet. Nothing could beat the way Abby felt now that she had finally broken free from her excruciating self-inflicted prison.

Abby pulled away from the kiss, gazing at you lovingly. “Are you hungry?”

God damn Abby, it was like she knew exactly what you were thinking. You didn’t know how long you had been unconscious for, but you were ravenous. “Starving.”

And almost as if you were telepathically communicating, the both of you spoke at the exact same time.

“Cookies?”

“Cookies.”

[thebeautyoffanfics]

rengoku kyojuro x gn!reader

a/n: despite the fact that this is comfort for one of my biggest fears, the hardest part was finding a character to write bc i’m,,,,,, obsessing over several- ANYWAY i wanted to rip my heart out ig </3

warnings: MUGEN TRAIN SPOILERS!!! Character death as well!!

word count: 2,144

Love… was complicated. Overly so. Would you ever find love?

That thought- that lingering fear- overwhelmed you more than you’d like to admit. What if, should you fall in love, the person does not feel the same? What if the relationship fell apart? What if, after years of pretending it’s alright- after loving them for so long, they fall out of love? What if you’re left there, broken hearted, with nowhere to go? What if you never fell in love again? What if the commitment overwhelmed you, and you chickened out of a relationship that could have grown to be beautiful?

What if… you never fell in love?

It was terrifying to you. Being alone forever. Never kissing anyone- never having someone to hold, hold more lovingly, overall differently, from the way a friend would hug you. Still, falling in love was scary. Absolutely terrifying for those established reasons.

Love was scary. Cripplingly so.

Yet… you fell in love.

You fell so hard. So hard for someone you weren’t sure you would expect- someone who, quite literally, was like the sun. Bright, warm, friendly. A hero. Your hero, and so many others’. He was loud, strong, tall, and genuinely, purely, beautiful. The most wonderful man you’d ever met. Someone who made you forget about your fears after a bit- the only thing you could afford to think about was him after all- there was no room for anxiety or tears.

“I understand, (Y/N),” He had told you- it felt like forever ago, though it was only a few years.

“Love is terrifying! But, isn’t that what makes it so fun? It makes your heart beat as hard as it does in a battle- except I’m not head-to-head against a monster! It’s just me and the person that I care for very deeply!! That person is you! And if I miss the chance to love you now, who knows when it’ll come again!! Live selfishly! Boldly! Do everything with a burning passion- and that includes love!!!”

The words he spoke weren’t incredibly moving. They were words you told yourself. But, hearing them from someone who made you face that deep fear- it made you feel… capable. As if, with him, you could do anything… maybe you would live selfishly. Consider the future, but not that heavily. Surely, it would hold great things.

The future had held great things. From that moment- the moment Rengoku looked you in your eyes, and you held eye contact longer than you had before. Your face burned, your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, and your stomach was twisted in knots. You felt as though you could cry. It was… exciting. It was fun. To feel so scared- to have every nerve in your body completely on edge- yet there was no life-threatening danger. In fact, in front of you was a man you trusted wholeheartedly. He’d protect you. He’d… wait for you.

He did wait. He waited for you to decide. He let you lead a lot of the relationship, until he was confident that you were completely comfortable.

Everything about him made you feel safe. He was practically perfect. Even when working hard- pushing himself past his limit, then a little further- protecting innocent lives, while risking his own innocent life- he made time for you.

You sniffled, looking up quickly once you felt a large hand rest on your head. You were resting your head on the edge of the bed where your injured boyfriend was lying. It was a dangerous fight- as if not all of them were. He was beaten up pretty badly- bandages littered his body, and the arm not on your head was resting in a sling.

“What’s the matter!”

You squinted, nearly reaching to hit him, but stopping yourself. At that, he laughed, not intending any harm. In his eyes, it was just a little beating. The Demon Slayer Corps had still one that fight- it was one less demon to terrorize humans- it was a victory. So what if he got a few scratches? Surely, he was bound to recover quickly!!

“You’re… hurt, Kyojuro.”

“So it appears!! However, I’m alive and well!! I’ll heal quickly, I promise you!”

You shook your head, removing his hand from your head, and holding it carefully. “That’s not my concern. I mean- I do want you to heal quickly, but- but… I know I can’t convince you to quit. I wouldn’t want to do that. This is your passion… I just worry about you… aren’t Upper Moons as strong as 3 Hashira? That’s- that’s three of you. What if you encountered one of them alone-?”

“They wouldn’t send me to fight an Upper Moon alone, hahaha! And, if I encounter one, I’ll just have to fight 3 times as hard!! I won’t die so easily!!”

His words were reassuring, and you knew he’d fight as hard as he could, but… all his bold, joyful words couldn’t stop every fear you had. You loved him too much to let a fear like that slip. Still, you tightened your grip on his hand, nodding and offering him a smile. In times like these, he continued to grin. You could do the same.

Rengoku was kind. He was kind to you- kind to his brother, his father, and everyone. You were kind as well, or as kind as you could be. It still felt hard to match his pure kindness though- if you had to list favorite things about him, that would certainly be at the top. The way he treated others. The way he smiled, the way he listened patiently, and offered his kindest words all the time.

“I’m so sorry!” Senjuro apologized, dropping the wooden sword, and bringing his hands to his mouth worriedly. Though you had been watching a bit to the side, you stepped forward, wincing at the bruise already forming on the side of Kyojuro’s face.

“That was impressive!!!” Kyojuro shouted, practically sparkling. “Your arm is certainly getting better! That was an amazing hit! I’m proud!!”

At that, you laughed lightly, as Senjuro sighed, bringing his hands down a bit. “I’ll go get ice!” Senjuro added quickly, standing straight, then running towards the house. You sat next to Kyojuro, glancing at the bruise, then at his happy expression.

“Did that hurt?”

“Yes! Isn’t that wonderful?!”

You laughed again, leaning your head against his shoulder, then sitting back up. “I understand where you’re coming from, I just… ahh, I would have been upset if that was my sibling.”

“No way!! A bruise is forming!! If that was a real sword, he surely would have cut me nicely! That’s incredible! Should he choose the same path I have, he’ll make an amazing slayer!!”

Senjuro ran back out, offering his brother ice covered lightly in a cloth. Kyojuro thanked him loudly, placing the ice to his face, then standing back up.

“Now! Are you ready to continue?!!”

You loved him… as days like those passed, you grew to gladly accept it. You wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell others. It was overwhelming, in the best way possible now. It… made your heart feel warm. It made you so happy. You weren’t as scared. You were happy that you were in love- and even happier that you were at a point where you could embrace it…

You stood next to him, outside of your house, the stars twinkling brightly above the both of you. You knew, as did he, that it was nearly time for Kyojuro to head home. You wanted to make excuses though- there had to be a reason to make him stay. He wanted an excuse too- but, you settled for standing outside, the stars your excuse.

“Father and Senjuro are probably sound asleep!” He said, placing a hand on your back. You nodded, glancing over at him, and finding that he was already looking at you.

“There are probably demons and animals out…” You added, looking back up at the stars.

“I don’t live far, of course! Plus, I can fend for myself!”

“I don’t doubt that you can.”

Silence ensued. Neither of you moved.

“I love you, (Y/N),” Kyojuro said, as he had several times before. Those times, you’d smile, offering a thank you- but now, you knew you loved him too. In such a casual moment like this, your love for him made your chest feel full.

“I love you too, Kyojuro,” You responded. Your words were a bit louder than usual- you wanted to make sure he heard you. To make sure he knew you were proud of your love.

His usual smile grew to a grin, and an uncharacteristic blush grew on his face. It was barely visible, especially in the moonlight, but you were glad you weren’t the only one.

His hand on your back moved to your shoulder, and he pulled you over gently into a side-hug. You grinned this time, wrapping an arm around his side as well. He was warm. He was so very alive. Yet… that live- that warmth, that grin- you weren’t aware how limited it was.

…

“Be safe, Kyojuro,” You said, hugging him tightly. Something felt off. You tried to convince him to hold back, but he was determined. You knew good and well he’d die protecting others. He’d be happy to. He wasn’t suicidal- he didn’t want to die- but he would. You knew he would.

Kyojuro hugged back, his smile never faltering as his strong arms squeezed you lightly.

“It’s just a train ride! I’ll be back, so don’t worry!!”

He lied.

Kyojuro released the hug, just to hug his brother, who wore a similarly worried expression as you did. Neither of you had heard of fighting on a train. All the passengers- such a limited space. Was it especially dangerous? No, it had to be the same as any other fight, right-? Then, why were you both so worried…

As Kyojuro departed, you placed a hand on Senjuro’s shoulder. The youngest Rengoku glanced up at you, offering an empty smile- it was similar to his brothers, only missing the honesty.

Now, you sat, crumpled to the floor, your heart aching worse than you had ever expected. It hurt. It hurt so badly. You never knew pain this bad.

Your fears were a reality. Falling in love- falling so deeply in love- then losing it. Losing it in the worst way possible. In all of your agony, you could have promised you saw even the crow that delivered the news crying. He hadn’t changed only your life… he touched so many others’. Each of the Hashira. His brother. His father. The slayers. Complete strangers.

Kyojuro’s bright smile would forever be imprinted in your mind, even as you sobbed, practically cursing whatever entity let something like this befall. Cursing whichever demon that did something like that to such an amazing man.

Tears streamed down your face, no words being able to express how badly you hurt, as you picked up a letter from Senjuro.

“Tanjiro told me that he was smiling.”

Tears already fell upon the paper, belonging to Senjuro. Now yours coated it as well, as you felt another pang in your heart. Despite that, and despite the sobs that still wracked your body, you smiled lightly. “Of course you were, you idiot…”

You knew he wasn’t an idiot. And you knew his smile was genuine. He was happy to die protecting others. He won the battle he went to win- you were sure he injured the monster that attacked him. No- that demon didn’t deserve to be called something as lighthearted and overused as a monster- there were no words to describe such a disgusting coward such as him. But now Kyojuro is with his mom… his hearing is returned. His injuries are nonexistent. He’s smiling in whatever afterlife there is. He’s rejoicing with all the other Rengokus. All of his friends he lost along the way. He’s celebrating, and cheering for all of the slayers that are still battling on. He’s encouraging everyone. Praying for the battles that are to come- no matter how big and small. Praying for those pained by his loss- encouraging everyone to move on. To keep their heads up. To keep smiling, just as he did.

“Thank you, Kyo… I love you so much,” You whispered, hugging the letter to your chest.

Even if he wasn’t present physically, you were still sure you could hear him. “I love you too, (Y/N).” Yes, definitely… you heard him. And, with his life forever engrained with yours, you’d live proudly, selfishly, for his sake. You’d live, holding your head high, and smiling no matter the obstacles you’d face.

But, for now, it was okay to cry. Kyojuro would allow that. You knew for sure.

[acrosstobear]

Callum Ilott talks racing accidents, tragedy and mental health

Callum Ilott pauses, takes a deep breath and prepares to answer.

It seems a pretty straightforward question to deliver a response to: are racing drivers affected after a crash or seeing a team-mate or rival have an accident? But it’s a deeply personal topic for the 22-year-old.

The Formula 1 rising star saw the aftermath of a tragic collision at Spa during his F2 days which claimed the life of his close friend Anthoine Hubert and seriously injured team-mate Juan Manuel Correa.

Ilott’s retort after taking some time to consider his thoughts shows the long-lasting effects of the heartbreaking incident. But it also begins to help reveal the psychology of racing drivers and how they deal with the inevitable dangers that come with driving at speeds of 200mph or more.

Callum Ilott opens up about the death of Anthoine Hubert

“To satisfy my own mental state I spent that whole evening and the next day analysing what happened,” the Ferrari Academy Driver said of the 2019 crash.

“In my mind I almost completely understood why it happened and it felt easier to accept it. I go through it and piece it together. I’d lost a good friend and my team-mate was fighting for his life. It was an ongoing process to deal with it.

“You can’t change what happened but he’d (Anthoine) changed me – not because of the accident – but because of how he was, how he influenced people and I took quite a few lessons from him. I took it upon myself to make changes, inspired by him.

“Everyone says ‘you’re doing it (racing) for him’, but I’d rather take the lessons that he gave me as it’s a greater impact than doing it for him. It can happen to anyone and you have to take every chance and moment you get in life, that was one of the lessons I took. It helped change my values and understanding of some things.”

Karting isn’t the safest but neither is rugby, says F1 talent

Like almost all professional drivers, the Cambridge-born talent started out in karting where he “enjoyed the speed” rather than feared it. His biggest concern was making mistakes.

Even though he saw people roll their karts and break their collarbones, his safety was more of a concern to his mum than himself as he continued to calculate and process the risk – a method that remains to this day.

Ilott said: “A lot of possibilities have to come together and at least nine times out of 10 you can get away with a crash and maybe one time you don’t.

“Karting wasn’t the safest thing but then you could say neither was rugby at school, all it takes is someone to do a high tackle or you fall funny and you could be in hospital or a wheelchair for the rest of your life. Anything can happen but I don’t look at things in a negative way.

“When it’s someone close to you that has an accident there’s obviously emotion attached to it. But it’s all facts and statistics for me. At the end of the day you’re in this sport and you’re in this position. If the stats were a bit higher then I think I would be concerned but at the moment you just hope it doesn’t happen to you. A lot of improvements continue to be made in terms of safety too.”

Alfa Romeo reserve relives dramatic Formula 1 test crash

So what happens when it’s you who is involved in an accident? When you have a massive smash that leaves you seriously injured or feeling incredibly lucky to be alive?

Ilott, a reserve for Alfa Romeo, had his biggest crash while testing for the team two years ago. He’d just set his best lap of the day at Barcelona on his F1 test debut when the rear snapped in a fast right-hander and sent him careering into the barriers at around 130mph.

“You have to crack back on,” admitted the 2020 F2 runner-up.

“Whilst you’ve got time you can feel sorry for yourself and punish yourself. It can be a greater lesson than moving on. For one week I don’t think anyone could really talk to me. Physically I was almost completely fine, I had a bit of pain in my back, but it was all mental. To me it was more related to my career.

“It was a big moment to have and then to have that end result, in crashing, so I was more worried about my career. In one or two weeks I was back in Formula 2, it was a distraction to get going again. You can get out of the spiral and get on with what you’re doing. You learn your lesson and take the best side of it.”

Being a passenger unsettles the Ferrari Academy starlet

The Adrian Flux-sponsored driver says it takes him within three corners to know the limit, within 5%, of the vehicle he is operating.

And he is sure that’s what sets professionals aside from anyone who steps behind the wheel of a car.

“Depending on the car and conditions, I will drive to how I feel safe,” concluded Ilott, set to make his IndyCar debut in America next weekend.

“On an Autobahn in Germany in the wet, I won’t go above 150kmh (93mph), at risk of aquaplaning. In dry, I can push to 300kmh (186mph) easily and as long as there’s no traffic I won’t worry. I’m aware of limits. I’m very happy to take a car to 300 and wouldn’t bat an eye, I’d quite enjoy it. If I was in the passenger seat, and someone took it to 300, I’d be very nervous.

“I’ve been on track days with friends and I’m helping them out a bit and straight away they go out and I’m like: ‘Woah, woah, woah, woah, you don’t realise how close you are to the limit already. You can’t push that much more and control the car’. A lot of people can drive but it’s always the last little bit and understanding what to do when it’s not perfect conditions.

“It’s very natural with us because we train. A marathon runner knows what pace they can run at all the time and what will last them until the end of the race. It’s the same as a cyclist – if they start to push over the limit they know when they’ll drop off at the end.

“I wouldn’t say we’re wired differently, racing drivers just know the limits of what we’re in and what we can do a lot more than other people. We’re very aware of the limits of each car we get in. It’s all calculated and you can feel and understand where that is and it automatically enters your brain. My body will say ‘that’s your limit’ and you just know depending on the conditions.”

What is professional racing driver Callum Ilott afraid of?

So does anything scare a man who flies around a track knowing one slight mistake could see him hurtling towards a tyre wall, giant slab of concrete or a huge metal barrier at high speed?

“I don’t like the unknown,” added Ilott who is dreaming of an F1 seat in 2022.

“When I was younger, I don’t mind it so much now, but when you’re snorkelling and you get to the edge of the reef and there’s the drop off – you’re staring down and you think ‘what the hell is down there, how far does it go?’

“It’s not the dark, but what’s inside it? Your mind becomes the enemy. Whatever you think is down there, is down there. That’s something I’ve gradually got used to because I’ve learned why. I don’t like spiders either, but I’m not scared of them.”

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Heartbreak | awesamdude

Requested? Nope this just helped me with my writer's block

Warnings? None?

Summary: Sam helps you through a heartbreak

Word Count: 1,816

You were certain you were going to be sad forever.

Dramatic yes, but you always had a flair for grabbing attention whenever you could. As much as you didn’t want to admit it though, you were genuinely crushed though by your break up.

You and your now ex-boyfriend Austin had spent six months together, in what you would call a whirlwind romance. He had stolen your heart pretty quickly, the two of you spending what felt like every second for the past half-year together.

Dinners, studying together, errands, dates, weekends, everything was spent together. You couldn’t believe how fast it had happened and then how fast it had ended. You were still reeling a solid week later after being ghosted for a solid two weeks and then having the relationship end with a text that said he couldn’t do this anymore.

You had taken the break up as well as anyone or any of your friends knew. You had cried and cried and cried the first few days, watching sad movies or romance movies over and over until you cursed every man to the ends of the earth for simply existing. You then ate a copious amount of your favorite comfort food accompanied by many sympathetic hugs from your mom.

By the end of the first week, you knew you had to keep going in life, but didn’t know how to cope with the breakup. So, your next resort was sad music. You were pretty certain anyone looking at your Spotify playlists was probably concerned at the number of sad songs playing on a loop but it helped to know someone else understood the pain you were going through.

“Please tell me you at least left your house today?” Sam, your best friend questions.

Sam had been your rock through this entire thing. While he hadn’t come over (at your request since you looked horrific) he still tried and coached and helped as much as possible. He texted you throughout the day, calling you at night to check up on how you felt and what you did during the day. You were definite this boy was the only good one left.

“Uhhh,” you drag out at his question looking around your trashed room and see that you probably couldn’t even make a path to your door if you wanted to through the number of clothes on the floor.

“That’s okay. There’s always tomorrow,” he reassures and you smile lightly at his positive tone.

The next day, you woke up a familiar pang hitting your chest and memories flooding you. Today was probably not going to be a good day in the break-up department. You tried though, for the sake of your best friend, and got as far as showering and eating something.

After lunch you ended up back in bed, sad Taylor Swift music on a loop and your covers pulled up to your chin. Sure, you made progress today and you could carry that momentum into tomorrow but you were pretty certain this was as far as you were getting.

Just as you snuggle into the covers, your phone dings with Sam’s special text tone and you pick it up. Your eyes scan the text and a smile creeps along your lips again.

“You can do this!! What did you eat this morning?”

You text him back, telling him about how your day is going so far and what you’ve eaten, and ask the older boy what his plans are for the day. He’s quick to text back and tells you not much is up and you leave it at that and go back to your playlist and sulking.

Sam couldn’t help but worry about his best friend and the girl he had been secretly crushing on since day one. He hated knowing you were sad and couldn’t do much more than offer words of encouragement and support. As he paces his apartment ideas wracking his brain one hits him like a freight train.

He grabs his keys and wallet, heading out the door to your house. Once there, he knocks on the door, waiting patiently for one of your family members to answer.

“Sam!” your father greets and the brunette smiles.

“Hi, Mr. (y/l/n). Is (y/n) around?”

“Upstairs in her room,” your dad says and Sam nods and thanks him before scaling his way up the stairs and towards your room.

Just before he knocks on the door, he stops upon hearing music playing inside. All Too Well by Taylor Swift blasts in your room and Sam pouts at the idea of you alone and sad in your room. He knocks on the door, waiting for your voice and when he hears you call to him he lets himself in.

When you see Sam enter your room, you sit up in bed clear confusion present in your features. Sam makes his way to you, sitting down in front of you on your bed and you pause your music.

“Hi honey,” he greets and you smile sadly.

“Hi,” you respond weakly.

Sam doesn’t say another word, just opens his arms to you in which you dive straight into. He holds you tight rubbing light circles on your back as tears flow slowly down your cheeks. He pulls back after a moment, lifting your face into his hands and wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“You’re too pretty to cry over an idiot like him,” he tells you and your sad smile shoots straight to his heart.

“I think I loved him Sam.”

“I know baby,” he says, still focusing on your tears and not meeting your eyes. “But he’s still a jerk who hurt you and doesn’t deserve you. Don’t waste tears on that. Your tears and emotions are precious.”

You nod, sitting up and pulling yourself over to sit next to Sam. You lay your head on his shoulder and he rests a hand on your leg rubbing comfortable shapes on your thigh.

“You ready to face the world?” he whispers and you take a deep breath.

“With you? Yeah.”

Sam stands, a wide smile on his face before holding his hands out to you. He pulls you up with him before whipping out his phone and blasting music. However this time it’s the good kind of Taylor Swift that makes you feel like a bad bitch and you can dance around your room too.

Sam takes your hands in his and spins you around the room, the two of you screaming the lyrics together and the louder you are the better you feel. Sam’s hands in yours, the music blasting, and the therapeutic action of yelling Taylor Swift’s music ebbing the pain away slowly.

By the time a few songs have gone by and you and Sam are exhausted from dancing he pauses the music. He holds up a hand, heading to your closet and picking out an outfit before throwing it towards you.

“Let’s go get some dinner huh baby?” he asks and you nod not even realizing the wide smile set on your lips looking at your best friend.

He lets himself out of your room and as you get changed you can’t help the little giggle that escapes your lips thinking about Sam. Before Austin, you had the biggest crush on your best friend. It had never gone away, granted you were pretty sure it was still there the way he had your heart racing just by being in the same room as you.

He made you feel like a queen on your worst days, and like the only woman to ever walk the earth on your best days. You wish you knew if he felt the same or not knowing that if he did you’d give that man the whole world and more.

You finish getting changed, swinging your door open and Sam looks up, an awestruck smile hitting his lips. He holds out his hand and you take it letting him pull you away from the room that held utter sadness for a week now and into your utter happiness.

When you get to Sam’s car, you’re back to blasting music and singing, the two of you trading laughs, jokes, and stories like any other day and Austin has been pushed so far back in your mind you barely remember what he did in the healing presence of Sam.

“The usual?” Sam asks, pulling into both of your favorite restaurant.

You nod and the two of you get out together and head inside the crowded restaurant. You’re seated to the side of the room in a big booth that hides the two of you away from the rest of the world. As you flip through the menu uselessly, already knowing what you want, you realize Sam’s eyes are on you.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing. You’re smiling again,” he says and you don’t even realize the grin that had set permanently on your lips since he had walked into your room.

“I’m glad to see it,” he says and you both smile, a blush covering your suddenly nervous selves before looking away.

Dinner goes by quickly, and you wonder why you didn’t call Sam earlier. The thought crosses your mind but is quickly washed away by the thump of your heart when he sends a smile your way and your feelings reverberate throughout your entire body.

You head out of the restaurant and decide to head home for the night. The ride home is easy, music flowing, conversation traded back and forth, probably the best you felt in a long time.

When you get out of the car, Sam meets you on your side and you lean against the passenger door. You stare up at him as he leans next to you, body half-turned to face you and your heart speeds up a little.

“So,” he sighs out.

“So,” you echo.

His hand comes up to push a piece of hair back, before trailing slowly down your jawline and eventually cupping your cheek. He hesitates for a moment as he turns to face you completely, his body slotting in between yours perfectly.

“Can I?” he asks quietly, his head dipping down mere inches from yours.

You nod, heart slamming in your chest and his lips finally grace yours. You come alive under his touch, one arm wrapping around his shoulder while the other grips the fabric of his shirt pulling him as close as possible. Your lips sync with ease, his body pressed against yours as you sink into his touch.

When you’re out of breath you pull away but stay close to Sam as possible. His forehead lands on yours and he pecks your lips again before pulling back just slightly to look at you.

“So,” he repeats and a smile widens on your lips a giggle escaping shortly after.

“So, wanna come inside?”

[blackwidow-bby]

Never Be The Same- Mafia!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Prompt: Mafia Boss au but y/n kidnaps the mafia boss

Warnings: Cursing, violence, gun mention and gun use, kidnapping

AN: I saw this prompt from a tiktok where someone asked "your favorite trope but reverse" so I did it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't often that you got anonymous letters sent to you by someone looking for your "services". You had left the spy life years ago with a little help from the Witness Protection Program in order to pursue a much quieter life doing...well currently you were just working as a florist. Before that you cleaned headstones at the towns local graveyard, which was scarily a lot bigger than the town you were in. You had quit that job when you got the first anonymous letter on the steps of the shed where you kept your tools. The thought of someone knowing where you worked, hell, who you were, especially when they shouldn't spooked you more than working in the graveyard around sunset.

The request wasn't for anything serious. A simple adult-napping job of some woman. The stranger who left the note definitely specified that they wanted the target alive. It would have been an easy job with some extra cash to put in your pocket, but instead you jumped ship and quit that day and moved to another apartment complex. You even went so far as to get a P.O. Box instead of using the complex's mail. The threat wasn't that big to get the government involved in relocating you again.

You almost you wish you could go back in time to the early morning before you received the letter by some covered stranger. Your skin turned white when you saw the simple little envelope with your old agent code name; Viper.

Sneaky and deadly, you always knew the perfect moment to strike. Whoever this person was had to have also been an old agent from the same organization you worked for. That was the only way you could explain away the anxiety that boiled in the pit of your stomach. Once was an instance, but twice is a hobby, you decide you'll at least think about taking the job. Opening the envelope, your heart started to pound quickly inside its cage. You can't believe you were about to put yourself in this position after leaving it for so long.

The letter read:

Dear Viper;

It has been many years since the last time I've seen your face, the first time I thought you were a ghost. Certainly after seeing your face again, I knew for sure my mind wasn't fooling me. It is with a heavy heart that I ask for your help. Unfortunately a family member of mine had found themselves in trouble with a mafia member. Unable to keep their end of whatever bargain, the mob killed him. I need you to find the person who did this to my brother and bring them to me completely unharmed. I want them conscious, I want my face to be the last ting they see before I get revenge for a member of my family ceasing to live among those that loved them.

The target's name is Natasha Romanoff. At the bottom I've left a burner number and an address if you do decide to take my offer this time, the payment will be handsomely.

Much Thanks;

Otter

Natasha Romanoff? Sounds mafia enough to you. Gods, what a messed up situation to get into. Would it really be enough to possibly have to change your identity again? What if this person was important to this group and they decided to come after you? You sat in silence thinking for a long time if any of this was really worth it. There was a tiny voice that peeped up in the back of your mind. You had been kinda bored lately, this could be the spice you need to add back an old pep in your step.

It was decided. You'll get to work searching for this person in the morning. Wow, that took so much persuasion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You got started early the next day. Definitely not due to not being able to sleep in the first place. Oh no. Thanks to the nerves building up over putting yourself in a shitty position. Luckily for you though, this Natasha woman wasn't hard to find at all. The mafia she was affiliated with, operated in the city near the town you lived in. They also apparently seemed to operate most of their business out of a simple pet shop. This has to be the inner workings of a screen writer, you thought to yourself.

Your nerves began to get the best of you on your walk back home. It seemed like everyone's eyes were suddenly on you, like they knew exactly what you were up to. You picked up your speed and released a breath you didn't realize you were holding when you saw the steps to your apartment complex. You quickly ran inside up to your floor and slammed the door behind you. Gosh your nerves were starting to annoy you. How did you ever make it as a top agent is beyond you thinking of the position you were currently in. All feelings aside, you pressured n to pack for the trip you'll soon be taking to the city. It was going to be another long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your trip to the city was surprisingly smooth. Light traffic. Sun was out. If not for this little mission, if you could call it that, the day would have been perfect to do some sight seeing. You found the "pet shop" just as easy as well. You set up camp on the side of the street in front of the building to see if your target would possibly show up today. You were really hoping this didn't turn into a multi-day stake out. just wanting to get all of this over as quickly as possible so you can go back into hiding again.

It took about 7 hours, well into the late afternoon, before you spotted her walk in. Surprisingly, she was alone. Perfect, time to move in. You got out of your car and casually walked around the side of the business to see if there happened to be a door. The alleyway of the building was dark enough that anyone on the street wouldn't be able to see in. The sound of a creaky metal door could be heard just around the corner. You guess the back will have to do. As you got closer to the sound, you saw the woman in the back of the building talking with a man. You couldn't make out a single word they were saying. Their conversation wasn't important though, only getting her to Otter was.

Your heart began to race as the moment to make your move came closer. This is what you had trained for your whole life. The stealth and ability to make a move without anyone around you knowing until it was too late. Your eyes trained on the red-head in the back of the building. You gave a silent prayer to whoever was listening that the person she was with, would leave her alone for just one second. That's all you needed; one second.

Suddenly, it was as if all of the puzzle pieces fell into place. He left to go back inside. Time slowed down in an instant. You immediately released a breath through your mouth and moved in. You could see every single moment, all of the steps you took right up to behind her. Watching her turn around carefully but never hearing you step up behind her. At the very last second when she had finally caught sight, one hand reached but to grab her arm and pin it behind her back while the other reached around her head with a chloroform rag to incapacitate her.

The hard part was done. The red-haired woman fell limp in your arms, so you maneuvered her into a bridal position to easily carry her to your car. Time was of the essence. Someone would be coming to look for her soon. Swiftly and quietly, you walked back through the alley and reached your car. Knowing you had some time before she woke up, you could stop later to tie her hands and legs once you were farther away from the city. You placed her down in the back seat before getting in the front and driving away. You let out the most dramatic exhale and looked for the letter Otter had given you of his number and location.

One ring

Two rings

So you did take my offer?

Yes, I'm headed to the location now.

Excellent, thank you for your work.

Yeah, whatever.

Click

You drove on for another half an hour before you reached the location. It was an old abandoned warehouse settled 20 minutes in the opposite direction from the city. The sun was completely settled at this point making the surroundings very dark. The sky had an almost purple glow from the towns nearby lights. Getting out, you circled the car to the back passenger door to remove the woman and bring her inside. She was still passed out from the chloroform only stirring slightly as you picked her up.

Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to you, but you don't remember her being this heavy. Trudging the knocked out woman inside, you found a small chair and placed her down. Your timing was sort of off and thought better to tie down her hands and legs now before checking her pockets for any weapons or forms of identification. The woman's head lulled from left to right while you searched. You found a knife on her belt holster, a small revolver tucked in the back of her pants, a wallet, and a set of keys but not car keys. Her eyes started to flutter while you fingered through the wallet. Nothing important, a drivers license, a couple of business cards from the "pet store", and a what looked like a family photo. The people in the photo looked familiar to you, very familiar.

"What are you doing with that?" The woman mumbled in your direction. You looked her in the eye not saying anything. The woman was gorgeous with the single light shining down on her causing an angelic glow upon the crown of her head. Her red tresses seemed to almost burn in your presence. You looked away from her and continued to inspect the photo she kept in her wallet.

"Who are these people with you?"

Her head lulled once more, "Why do you want to know?"

"Answering a question with a question won't help you. What is your affiliation with the mafia?"

"I'm their fucking boss."

In that instance your eyes widened. Of course, that's why the men in the photo looked familiar to you. She was the fucking heir to one of the top mafia rings in the country. This idiot, Otter, wanted you to bring in the living heir and current head hancho for what she did to a simple family member that got caught up in the wrong group. The sweat was beginning to pour now that you realized you were absolutely fucked.

Before you could say anything else, Otter, the man of the hour, busted trough the doors.

"Viper! I knew I could count on you!"

"What the fuck man?! You really had me capture the fucking mafia BOSS?! We're both going to be fucked if you don't explain everything right now, Otter." You were sweating rivers at this point. Utterly frustrated and hot in the warehouse. The red-head was slowly coming to 100% but her eyes still couldn't fully focus.

"Calm down Viper. Your work is done with me. I'll cover everything up and you can go back to your quiet life."

"Over?! If you don't give me a very good reason to leave her here in your possession, I'm taking her with me." you were shouting at this point. The red-head was now staring at the both of you dumbfounded at the whole situation everyone was in.

"She killed my brother!" You swore you could see steam coming off of his head. "She killed him and left him to rot!"

"Your brother was nothing but scum who tried to steal weapons from me to sell for himself." She had responded this time. Otter quickly pulled out a gun from his pocket and aimed it at the woman.

"He would never have done anything to harm his family or himself!"

She didn't falter her glare one single bit, even with a weapon pointed at her head. "He'd be living a healthy fulfilling life had he not crossed me."

He cocked the gun this time. "Shut up you stupid bitch!"

A smirk played on her lips, she was enjoying getting a rise out of him. Like she knew something the both of you didn't know. Like she knew no matter her outcome someone would always be out there searching for both of you for the rest of your lives until you got caught, or god forbid, kill yourselves to keep from being caught. Your nerves were spiking again, you couldn't let Otter kill Natasha Romanoff.

You sucked a quick gasp. Otter didn't notice but Natasha did. You had her gun.

Natasha's eyes darted back and forth between you and Otter. He was getting upset at the fact that her attention wasn't solely on him. The arm that was holding the gun stopped its falter and held up straight to Natasha's face. "Look at me! I want my face to be the last thing you see when I kill you, you stu-"

BANG

Natasha jumped. She had seen the whole thing take place but didn't really expect you to do it. She could see the tremble in in your hands as they stayed in the same spot. Your eyes were wide, lip quivering, you couldn't believe what you had done and now you had a new problem to cover up. Natasha had a look of empathy in her eyes. You didn't want to be in this position from the get go and it had only gotten worse for you.

"Hey, look at me..." Natasha spoke up softly to break your trance. She had leaned her body towards you in a manner to reach out. "You can put the gun down, its going to be okay now." Your eyes darted down to the gun and back up to Natasha's green eyes. Still shaking you slowly lowered the gun to the ground before you walked over to her cautiously. Tears were falling down your face, the weight of the situation was hitting you. If you had never agreed to Otter's request, you would be cozied up in your bed, awaiting another new day.

Your fingers found Natasha's bound wrists. her skin was surprisingly cool to the touch. She stared at your face the whole time you unwrapped her from the chair. The fresh tears leaving clear trails down your slightly dirtied cheeks. The slight glow of your e/c eyes under the florescent lights of the warehouse. You knelt down in front of her to then remove the binding on her ankles. Something within her compelled her to reach out to you. Without even realizing it, the red-heads palm was already resting on your head. She reveled in the silky smooth feel of your h/c locks. The slight dampness from the sweat that had overcome your skin. She could feel the softness of your fingers slowly circling around her last ankle when your sad eyes looked up to hers.

"How did you manage to capture me without anyone seeing you?" Her hand slipped down to your cheek. "In all of my years, I have not once not heard someone creep up behind me the way you did."

The steady stream of tears grew heavier, your quiet life was about to be destroyed by your own need for a change. She would certainly have your feet for getting a one up on her.

"It was my job. I was known for being so light on my toes, no one could hear me coming." your voice wavered, but the words got out.

"Well I could use someone like you by my side." Natasha held out her hand to you as she got up on her feet. Not really having her ground, she nearly fell when you caught her by the waist. The two of you held your breath as you both stared deeply into each others eyes. You could swear if you inhaled, her scent would be enough to drive you mad. "My guys will cover all of this up for you."

You sat and thought about everything she said. The would would probably prove more exciting than working at a flower shop and probably be more fruitful. You smiled at her. You could feel her warm breath near your lips.

"When do I start?"

[thebigoblin]

Sterek Fic Recs Part 3

[You can find the first two lists here: Fluffy Sterek Recs & Sterek Fic Recs. Also here's a special fic, check it out]

First off, thank you all for a 100 followers!! As of September 7, 2021 you've made me feel really, really good about my obsession with two oblivious idiots (with sprinkles of the hale pack and other fandoms), and this is my way of thanking you ♥️

If you're on PC, you can see that there is a page dedicated solely to fic recs, which caters to other ships & fandoms too. So don't feel left out if you're looking for something other than Sterek!

Without further ado, let's get to it then!

an awful curse

Isaac is asleep in a chair. The angle of his neck makes Derek wince in sympathy.

"Isaac," Derek says.

Isaac snaps awake immediately.

"You're-"

"Where's Stiles?"

"Stiles?" Isaac asks.

Jesus. It's not like they know more than one.

AU - Canon Divergence | 6.3k | By blinkiesays

Throw Away The Key

Stiles knew it was stupid to go to the hunters’ headquarters all by himself, so when he finds himself caught, he can really only blame himself.

It shouldn't surprise Stiles when the situation quickly goes from bad to worse as the hunters throw him to a feral werewolf waiting to tear him apart.

Sucks that it's Derek, though.

AU - Canon Divergence | 5.9k | By mommymuffin

Whatever Happened Last Night, Why Did Glitter Have to Be Involved?

Derek rolled out of bed in search of his phone - quickly finding it in the pair of jeans that had evidently been tossed aside haphazardly on the way to the bed. Seeing the pants sparked flashes of memories - wolfsbane-laced alcohol, loud music, multicolored lights.

Peter’s new supernatural-friendly club - the pack had gone to the opening night party.

He unlocked his phone and opened the pack group chat, which Erica had affectionately named ‘Moon Sluts’.

>>Derek: What the fuck happened last night

[or: Derek wakes up with three things on his mind: he feels like he was punched by a troll, his mate is missing, and there's glitter covering his bed. Oh, and the pack group chat is mildly helpful]

**

Prompt #159 - “Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.”

Crack Vibes | 1.2k | By ash_mcj

Good to Eat

So if Stiles married Derek Hale, he could become Jewish too? Perfect. It was settled. Stiles gleefully shoveled a forkful of cheesy shells into his mouth.

"Uh oh. I know that look.” Claudia shook her head.

"Don’t worry, Mom, ” Stiles said, reaching for his plastic Batman cup.

"I’ve got a plan.”

"Good luck, Derek Hale,” his mother muttered.

Rude.

AU - Childhood Friends | 1.7k | By Jmeelee

Murder Brows and Avoidance Tactics

Derek gets the wrong end of the stick.

Written for prompt: "You're jealous, aren't you?"

AU - Everybody Lives | 2k | By Dragonink13

Double Vision (only registered users can read this one)

"So what caused my hearing and sense of smell to dull?"

Deaton's brow furrowed, all amusement vanishing from his face. "What do you mean?"

Derek snapped, letting loose all of his anger and fear at the man before him. "I mean I can't hear your heartbeat or the cars down below or the birds in the attic! I can't smell the flowers in Mrs. Everett's apartment, I can't smell the rotting burger in the fridge that Isaac left in there a month ago, I can't smell or hear anything like I normally can!" Deaton mouth was pressed into a thin line. "Can you explain that?!"

 Tumblr Prompt: Derek jealous of himself.

AU - Everyone Lives | 6.1k | By Novkat21

Kiss?

Derek likes kissing Stiles, honestly he does. Until he doesn't.

Fluff | 3.6k | By clotpolesonly

Oblivious Misadventures, and Other Such Tales

Going to college was exciting and new, a chance for new friends and a fresh start, and the best part was, there was a supernatural fraternity on campus, meaning Scott finally had the freedom to be himself.

Then he met the resident human who came with a stalker alpha. What was the point of a supernatural fraternity if he still had to pretend to be human. And seriously, did Stiles ever fall asleep somewhere normal?

--

(aka - Five TImes Scott Found Derek and Stiles Sleeping, and the One Time He Didn't)

AU, Supernatural is real but not known by everyone, Alive Hale Family | 11.2k | By Little Spoon

Call Me (Cliché)

When the sheriff's sister ends up in a wheelchair for the duration of summer, Stiles' dreams of three months full of pack bonding, late-night video games and bro-time with Scott come crashing down. He's temporarily relocated to Redford, a three hour drive away, and he can already tell he won't be getting many visitors.

Sure the pack will forget about him while he's gone, Stiles is determined to make the most of his summer of isolation, training his body and mind - and his magic - so he can come back with a bang, and maybe catch a certain Sourwolf's eye.

Then Derek shows up at his window one night with a flimsy excuse about needing research done. Suddenly, his summer away is looking a whole lot more interesting.

AU - Canon Divergence | 84.6k | By Orphan_Account aka the author has dissociated themselves from the fic

Shiver

Stiles has really, really cold hands. Luckily, Derek knows just what to do about that.

Established Relationship | 1.7k | By canistakahari

Derek Hale's Possible Heart

An anon sent me a sterek prompt for Laura teasing Derek and Stiles joining in, then somehow sharing their feelings for each other in the mess of things.

AU - Canon Divergence | 4.3k | By loserchildhotpants

What's a Secret Identity?

Stiles sipped at a mug of coffee, absently watching the news play in the break room. Because of course a news station couldn't play anything other than its own content, even in the one part of the office that was supposed to be a safe space from work. His interview with Superman was making a rerun and Stiles glanced at Derek before commenting absently, “I’d totally let Superman fuck me.”

Derek, who had been in the middle of a swig of coffee, choked violently, “That’s not something I needed to know at nine in the morning, Stiles.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “What time would you prefer I tell you about all of the things I would let Superman do to my body?”

AU, Derek is Superman | 7k | By Chrystie, imabignerd and kate882

i see that you've come so far [just like them old stars]

But her big brother’s unwillingness to touch anyone, like he thinks he doesn’t deserve it isn’t the only thing she notices. She also notices how Stiles doesn’t touch him.

Everyone reaches for Derek in some form or another, but Stiles- Stiles is something different altogether because he reaches for Derek but he never makes contact.

He’ll be trying to shimmy past Derek and instead of putting a hand on his arm like most of them do, he’ll reach out with a hand and stop it scant centimeters away from Derek’s skin.

Or they’ll be walking alongside each other and Stiles will hover a hand on Derek’s lower back.

It’s both fascinating and tragic to watch, like NASA lost control of one of their robots and instead of it landing on the moon it’s fated to gravitate around it.

AU - Canon Divergence | 2.3k | By crossroadswrite

Déjà Vu

There’s a shop in Beacon Hills that no one knows anything about except that the mysterious proprietor, a witch in whispered circles, knows what you need before you do and that the things given are always just what you need.

Derek, lost after a breakup, heads into the shop to see if he can find something to help him forget his ex. The witch gives him a potion to drink, and when Derek wakes up, he finds he’s sixteen again and there’s a new student at his school, Stiles Stilinski.

Everything is familiar and yet not, and Derek finds he’s strangely drawn to Stiles in a way that is entirely supernatural.

AU, Supernatural is Real | 8.8k | By gremlins-came-and-got-me and StaciNadia

Start Small, Like Oak Trees

The months following Allison's death have passed Stiles by in a haze of monotony. He sleepwalks through days that seem to lose their color, an unwilling passenger in a body he no longer trusts. Eventually, he thinks, he'll just fade away. He isn't sure anyone would notice. Then, during a spur of the moment grocery run, he stumbles upon Derek Hale attempting to console a lost child, and for the first time in recent memory the world doesn't seem so awful.

He's not sure what he'd been expecting when he eventually convinces Derek to move into the Stilinski's spare bedroom, but a newfound passion for weeding and topsoil certainly isn't it.

AU - Canon Divergence | 24.2k | By SmallBirds

Undercover K9

As it usually goes, Derek acts before he thinks. This time he has a good reason, though-it's all Stiles' fault. Mostly.

Or, that time when Derek volunteered to spend all his spare time as a wolf with the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Office K9 Unit, just to protect Stiles' dumb ass.

Future Fic | 17.9k | By Cobrilee

Rose Colored Glasses

“Obviou—um, what? Derek?” Stiles managed. “What? You’re not colorblind. You’re colorblind?”

“Yes.” Derek said gruffly. “And?”

“And? What do you mean and? You can’t see colors?” Stiles demanded, thrown. “Does it—what kind is it? Red-green? Blue-yellow? Why doesn’t—oh my god, is this why your entire freaking wardrobe was completely black until like two years ago? Oh my god!”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a favorite color, Stiles.”

Established Relationship | 2.2k | By SassyStarboard

1,460 Days (gotta clean my slate)

Two years after Scott becomes Alpha and Derek gives it up for Cora, Stiles gets hurt during a fight and ends up in a coma for two weeks. According to the nurse, a guy has been visiting him every day and, as much as he wishes it were Derek, it sounds a lot like Scott. Except he and Scott aren't even friends anymore.

AU - Canon Divergence | 10k | By army_of_angels

This is it for now. Happy reading y'all! ♥️

[demonslayedher]

Dream Analysis of Mugen Ressha

Spoilers for the movie, while it does not depart from the plot of the manga, they made adaptational choices which I may refer to within.

While Enmu has control over what kind of dream his victims see, ultimately, he would have no way of knowing all of the details of his victims' lives, so we can assume that he is prompting his victims to fill in a lot of the details themselves. These are the worlds they surround themselves with consciously, but their untouchable unconscious spaces say just as much.

I've said some of this before, but these dream sequences give us so much to say about Inosuke, Zenitsu, Kyojuro, and Tanjiro.

Into the dream: Did that "Rengoku-aniki" thing really happen???? It's animated like a fever dream (or drawn like a typical Gotouge-being-Gotouge panel), but both the movie and the manga leave this inconclusive. It can be interpreted two ways: 1. The two other demons were there all along as decoys, set to appear only when Enmu's blood technique slowly started to take effect so that they'd let their guard down. In this way, we'd know that the boys had a true way of witnessing Kyojuro's prowess and a true bonding moment, thereby making his death hit all the harder later. This would also mean that one of the cars was totally unusable for passengers, and many of the passengers were already thoroughly spooked before falling into sleep. It would also imply that they were all super excited, thoroughly relieved, returned to their seats, and then just passed out.

2. The moment the tickets were clipped, Enmu's very, very, very realistic dreams took immediate effect, but he still needed time before it took effect enough that their guards would go down. If this is the case, then it implies the following: 1. Enmu's illusions can be shared 2. Everyone syncs extremely well together to have all been sucked in by the same illusion (it's possible it was only Tanjiro's, but since we get in everyone's heads a little in this part, I believe they all experienced the same thing). Reacting in ways so true to how they would in waking like, they learned as much about each other as truthfully as they would have if they were fighting while awake. 3. The "Rengoku-aniki" thing is the moment they're falling into a deeper stage of sleep, when any bizarre thing will make sense. They've lost any sense of holding back and are embracing the emotions as they hit them. Even if that was all a dream, the bond formed was very real. But then, as they fall deep, they fall into their own headspaces. Inosuke: I love how bombastic this dream is. It moves at a very fast pace, and everything revolves around Inosuke. He is physically much larger than Ponjiro, Chuuitsu, and Pyonko, who clearly follow him as their leader, the most powerful person in this cave exploring world full of wonder and excitement. True to life, these underlings can at times be frustrating or stupid, but there is no one else Inosuke would rather have at his side to take on a hugely impressive foe. It's a relatively simplistic world, what Inosuke really cares about is his place in it, and who is there.

Taking it a step deeper, he should not be able to manifest in his self-conscious space, but Gotouge attributes his and Zenitsu's ability to do this and protect their cores from intruders to their strong senses of self. What's telling is that his subconscious space is practically identical to his conscious dream space; like there is no breakage between one stage of reality and the next. In its Zen-like simplicity Inosuke's mind is never at odds with itself, its interpretation of reality is fluid and seamless. However, being at this deeper state brings us to a deeper state of self actualization, with Inosuke manifesting closer to the ideal beast he views himself as.

Now, with Inosuke being so fully invested in what he sees as reality, he's still got a carry-over effect from dream after waking up, which one could interpret as not having fully shaken the effects of Enmu's blood technique. After all, Zenitsu simply never broke out of it, Tanjiro had to kill himself in his dreams each time to fully snap out of it, and Kyojuro was the only one powerful enough to have broken through its effects through his own willpower. When Tanjiro says the train is a demon, he buzzes with "I was right!" (a conviction that only got stronger in his dream), and Inosuke's declarations of being the boss and Tanjiro being his underling are indignantly plentiful and he fully believes what he is saying every time he brings it up, even if he's aware that he's no longer in the cave exploring dream. But, given that Inosuke is so at peace with his own version of reality, it's also just as likely that his conviction of being The Boss was also only compounded by the dream, and all that dream did was give him a more fun setting in which to play around in. But, what was so fun about the dream, what made him sleep-giggle with pleasure, was that everyone else was finally getting with the program and recognizing him as the boss, as they should. Finally. It's so frustrating in real life that he has to keep reminding them to get it right. Get it, Santaro?? GOOD. Zenitsu: What I love here is the contrast between subconscious and conscious space. Both of them have the same theme melody, but played in very, very different ways. They also both play with the same core desire in very different ways as well. Is it so much to ask that he can just spend some time alone with the girl he loves?? If we jump straight to the pitch black unconscious space, he specifies to the intruder that only Nezuko is allowed there. Not just girls in general, not a close friend like Tanjiro, only the one girl he loves, and even then, you'd have to love someone a lot to invite them into the deepest, darkest corners of your soul. And it is a very, very, very, very dark corner. Zenitsu's spent most of his life building that dark, pessimistic personality, compounded by the treatment he's always received throughout his life and what he believes about himself at his core. He's ugly and depraved there, and very defensive. Because he holds himself in such darkness, that makes him desire the bright, happy, completely idealistic world of his conscious dream world. It's rich with detail and warm and he knows it well, that places is the first place he ever felt someone have hope for him; it's Jiichan's home, that sunny place with delicious peaches and full of clovers and lush greenery and a charming stream. Of course he'd want to show it all to Nezuko, she deserves to see such a happy, pretty place! And, while the world is idealized and happy, Nezuko is e-x-t-r-e-m-e-l-y cute and actually wants to hang out with him too. She's willing no hold his hand, none of the girls who dated (read: used) Zenitsu in the past were ever willing to hold his hand. He even gets to show her that he can be cool, and she likes it!! She looks him in the eyes and is totally honest about enjoying his company!!

He just wants someone to want him back. He wants to belong in the sunshine too. So, even if he had it in him to wake up from Enmu's blood technique, who can blame him for staying there? (You know, besides Tanjiro, who has been desperately screaming for them all to wake up and help him protect the passengers. Zzzzz, five more minutes, Tanjiro, zzzzzzz----) Kyojuro: This... isn't really a happy dream. Kyojuro has accepted a lot of sad parts of his reality so wholeheartedly that he doesn't seek the comfort of a dream in which his mother is still alive, or a dream in which his father is proud of him. Instead, what Kyojuro was looking for was the chance to go back and say more to Senjuro. This implies that on the real day he knelt in that room, while his father faced away and read the book* while Kyojuro told him all about how he defeated Lower Moon Two and became a Pillar, and was met with his father's heartbreakingly unenthusiastic reply, he later went outside and...

...didn't say any words of comfort to Senjuro.

This regret, that he didn't do more for his brother whom he knew was hurting in his own silent ways this whole time, was what sat most bothersomely in Kyojuro's otherwise peacefully self-assured psyche (or fired-up psyche, if you go by his subconscious space) . It makes sense that in his dying wishes, the first thing he requests is that Tanjiro do this in his stead. *Speaking of that book, Kyojuro had forgotten about it until his memories pulled together to create the details of the dream, which was why he thought to mention it to Tanjiro later. This shows that Enmu is not an architect of people's dreams, he only sets them in motion. How believable they are depends on each victim. (Totally unrelated, I love the design of the Rengoku estate's garden??? It's primarily evergreen and unflowering trees, meaning it stays relatively steadfast throughout the year, a garden designed in samurai villa taste. Plus the details of the house also fit really well, I think??? Would need to review research of buke-yashiki architecture to say more.) Tanjiro: ...*deep breath* This boy really, really wants to go home. Like, the climax of the movie is amazing and all, but it's the scenes with Tanjiro's family that make me cry. Ugh, where do I start. Enmu probably just grabs on to whatever thread of a desire a person has, and then he just tugs on it and says "this way, let's go really far in this direction, show me where it goes, hmm, okay, nice, lovely. Have fun here, I've now seen enough to write my own angsty version for later." So... so I'm just going to work backwards a moment. Enmu screwed up here, thinking he could really read the depth of Tanjiro's family and his feelings for them. He thought he could make a convincing version of these "characters" cry and shove Tanjiro around and speak meanly to him and make him feel shame. And the cut to that dream, OH MY GOSH, truly horrific sound and color change. But Tanjiro's sees through it so fast that he wakes up immediately and uses that anger at how Enmu wrote them to cut off his "head." You screwed up, Enmu, you blew it, maybe other people would very so blown down by the shock that they wouldn't question how unreal that dream sequence is, but Tanjiro has honed his fighting spirit so much that it's been nagging him even throughout his happy dream. And he really, really, really wants to stay in that happy dream. Like, even though he's on guard at the beginning, so much so that he only focuses on the familiar feeling of a demon being around and does not notice the familiar landscape AT ALL. But the moment Hanako and Shigeru step in, convincingly made from Tanjiro's memories and unedited by Enmu, Tanjiro throws that all away in an instant. As he says when he's trying, after trying and trying and trying to rip himself away from the dream, he was never even supposed to had left this world. He was never supposed to had touched anything like a sword, they were all supposed to stay there together, living their simple life. If things hadn't gone wrong that one night. Tanjiro cares deeply about his mission, he's adopted his training deeply, he has serious desire to improve, which is why his subconsciously keeps trying to call himself back to reality, but it's so hard, because this is where he wants to be, and it's even harder because it feels so real. It's a little peeve of mine when families with lots of little siblings are written to be too angelic and idealistic, and there is some of that with the "let's make sembei, yaaaay" scene, but... but that's actually pretty true. I'm giving myself away with how close this hits to home, but it's a dynamic in a lot of large families, especially large families pretty happy to stay to themselves and people who live the same sort of conservative, traditional lifestyle, to foster in the older siblings some pride in taking care of the little ones and helping create that happy world for them, even if taking care of little kids can be rough. It's not to say that things are always happy and fluffy, they're not, and that's not to say even

happy kids don't resent being in a large family sometimes. But there's plenty of moments in daily life, especially in the presence of small children, that you get swept up into a sillier, happy, caretaker side of yourself, and since you all grow up with these silly moments together, you're going to naturally fall into into some silly, scripted-feeling moments of "then I'll be in charge of eating the sembei!" "no faaaaair!". So, I'll give the sembei scene a pass because that IS a moment that happens in years of moments with the same posse of kiddos around you all the time. But it's also so striking to me how each of Tanjiro's siblings, however idealized, has their own personality. The traits are so subtle but consistent and Tanjiro knows all of them. They pick up on things about each other, they grow realistically annoyed and surprised and concerned and scared like they would if they were real instead of only Tanjiro's memories of them. Those kids feel so real to me, even if they are annoyingly overidealized in some parts as Tanjiro is letting himself get swept away. And just when he's managing to part from it to go face reality, Enmu makes more attack: he brings in Nezuko, trying to make it feel like there's no point in Tanjiro running at all. She's fine. There's nothing left for him to fight for. Everything's fine. And all over again, Tanjiro just stops. He KNOWS it's not real, but he's hurting so much to hear her voice again that he just sto-o-o-o-ps. And his desire to stay with the others catches up to him all over again, and he's tempted all over again to stay, EVEN KNOWING IT'S NOT REAL and there are very, very, very pressing matters to attend to. Even if it was all a little happy and idealized, more than anything, it felt like life always did. It's telling that when Tanjiro finally, FINALLY pulls away from that that time, he doesn't look back, and the family stops chasing him. This is Tanjiro accepting reality, however much it hurts. He's already had a couple years to accept this, but it was all overwhelming to get such a vivid taste of it again.

Tanjiro wants to do well to his organization and honor Urokodaki's training and avenge the fallen and prevent anyone else from being hurt and see an end to Kibutsuji Muzan and make Nezuko human again, but more than anything, he wants that simple life. And it's so, so heartwarming that at the end of the manga, he gets it.

It's not the same. It'll never be the same.

He never wanted a life with a sword, but he's been working so hard at it anyway.

[ecto-american]

Humanity

Upon their arrest by the GIW together, Valerie learns something interesting about Phantom and herself that make her question just how human both herself and Phantom are.

note that this isn’t a phic phight thing, just something i wrote literally months ago for Lexx but forgot that i wrote

on FFN and AO3

----------------

They didn't even have the decency to arrest her before Mr. Lancer's class. Being arrested for...well, the Guys in White were never really clear as to why they showed up to Casper High to arrest her. But whatever the reason, that would have been one hell of an excuse as to why she was not just missing, but why she couldn't turn in that book report that she not only didn't do, but hadn't even read a single page of yet. Valerie had an inkling she knew why, but she remained completely silent the entire march out the front doors of the school. She wasn't an idiot after all.

The agent to her left opened the door, and the agent to her right put his hand on her head to duck her into the white SUV. The door closed, and Valerie glanced to see just how tinted the windows were, as well as the police-style framing of the windows and the separation between the driver and passenger as well as the backseat dwellers.

"Oh, I was wondering why we stopped here."

That familiar voice made her jump, and she turned to see Phantom. He was in the exact same predicament. Hands behind his back, leaning against the seat, though she could immediately tell that his handcuffs were much clunkier and glowed. Obviously anti-ghost.

"You!" Valerie hissed. She immediately leaned into the window, lifting her leg up, and she began to kick him repeatedly. "What the hell are you doing here!?"

"Ow!" Phantom hissed as she got him in the shoulder, and then his rib. She didn't stop, and she didn't miss. "AH! Fuck, stop it! OW!"

"Knock it off!" one of the agents boomed. The sudden, strict tone made Valerie pause. She kicked him one more time, square in the face, before finally stopping.

Phantom made a weird wheezing noise, and she saw him shift to rub his nose on his upper arm and shoulder. He frowned.

"My nose is bleeding," he complained.

"I hope your nose is broken!" Valerie snapped back at him.

Phantom glared at her. He made a weird noise in his throat, and it took Valerie a moment to realize what he was doing. Preparing spit. And indeed, the ghost teen stuck his tongue out, drool instantly dripping, and he leaned in. Valerie instantly leaned away from him.

"Ew! Gross! Get away from me!" she complained.

"Nu-uh!" Phantom replied, his tongue still out as he continued to scoot. He got close enough to open his mouth, and some of his saliva dripped onto her knee.

"Gross, gross, gross!" she shrieked. Valerie kicked him in the side, and Phantom let out a pained wheeze.

"Knock. It. Off," the other agent snapped at them. They had gotten into the driver and passenger's seat, and both were glaring at them.

"She started it!" Phantom accused. The driver frowned at him, obviously not amused. Phantom scooted back to his side of the backseat. Valerie stayed pressed against the window and door. She could hear the drive mutter something about hating kids before turning the vehicle on, and they drove off.

--------------------------

They made the duo sit in the interrogation room for three hours, according to the clock. They had, thankfully, just connected the teenagers to the table via a long chain and handcuffs, so that they could at least be a bit more comfortable, even though Phantom, and for some reason her, were both given anti-ghost bracelets to wear. A box of tissues were also tossed onto the table, and Phantom had spent the first half hour tending to his bloodied nose. He stuffed all the used tissues, grossly, into his pocket, though she suspected why he did that. It had his DNA on it.

Phantom nor her attempted conversation. Neither were stupid. They essentially stared at each other and the walls, their only words were occasional out-loud wondering of when somebody was going to show up to question them already.

Obviously her more pressing question was why the hell they were still together. For some reason, Phantom was with her every step of the way of their weird little field trip. They got escorted in together, processed together, and now were sat at the exact same interrogation table. Why? She had absolutely no idea. Didn't they normally separate people they arrested?

At exactly 6:38 PM, somebody finally opened the door, and she and Phantom sat straight up.

The agent that sat before them was a large man, muscular and tall with big hands and sunglasses that fully blocked any chance of the teens from seeing what he was looking at.

"We know you're both half-ghost."

Valerie's mind instantly went to Vlad. That must have been what he was...she had been debating with herself for weeks now as to what he was. A ghost disguised as a human? A human who had ghost powers?

She pushed those aside to look at Phantom. To her surprise, he was pale. Nearly as white as his hair, with anxiety sweat drops beginning to form. Her interest peaked instantly. Silence hung in the air. The man said nothing, simply keeping his attention intensely on them. Valerie

"That's ridiculous," Valerie finally said something. She nearly added that the entire idea itself was ridiculous too. Well, it kind of was. It was so weird to grasp, but it wasn't really something that she wanted to think too hard about these days, and especially now. There was nothing more that she'd love to do than to throw that manipulative old bastard under the weird half-ghost freak bus. However, not only was it probably not a good idea to start beef with a literal superpowered-villain billionaire...but Dani was still out there.

"Don't lie to me." The man sounded agitated. "Both of your ectoplasmic readings are abnormal."

Ectoplasmic reading? Her? Valerie stared at him as if he had grown a second head.

"I shouldn't have any ectoplasmic reading," she pointed out. "I'm alive. Alive people don't have ectoplasmic readings."

The man opened up his folder, pulling out a few choice pieces of papers to slide her way. Phantom silently watched them, his eyes wide and his face looking utterly blank yet...so fearful. Valerie opted to ignore him for a while, accepting the papers to hold as she read through them.

She was familiar with how to read ectoplasmic readings, charts and monitors by now. Green eyes scanned the data, frowning in confusion as she checked the details, and she could see out of the corner of her eye Phantom leaning in to read too. She adjusted her position so that he couldn't.

This description was definitely her, and...she was giving off ectoplasmic readings. Not really in the same way as a normal ghost; there was something distinctively different about hers that any set of trained eyes could pick up on. But how?

"I don't understand," Valerie spoke slowly. "I'm alive." She put the documents back down on the table. "You can take a swap or slap some ghost goop stuff on me. Hell, prick my finger." Valerie held her palm out to the man. Her anti-ghost bracelet sparkled a bit in the light of the room. At least she now knew why they made her wear the bracelets too. "I'm not dead."

The interviewer stared intently at her hand. He gave a neutral hum of acknowledgement, swooping the papers back up.

"Testing and experiments will be reserved for a later time," he replied. Valerie got instant goosebumps. Testing and experiments? "Maybe a few hours in holding will help you realize why you should just come clean to us."

"Can I get some water first?" Valerie asked. The agent snorted in amusement as he stood up.

"Ghosts don't eat or drink."

She felt numb, and she had no idea how to respond to that. Two more agents came into the room, and they silently took the teenagers further into the building until they reached a door. The third agent opened it, and Phantom and Valerie were ushered inside.

The room almost immediately led into bars, and the first thing Valerie could think of was just how much it looked like jail. Two uncomfortable looking bunk beds on either side, a toilet in the middle, a small sink, and no windows. The light was dim, and the room was cold.

Phantom was pushed in first, and then Valerie, and the bars clunked as they closed. She turned to see the bars begin to glow as the bars were locked.

And there was no goodbyes. The agents were eerily silent as they filed out, and the door was shut behind them. She could hear the faint click as it also locked.

Valerie turned to see Phantom's reaction, and he still looked shaken and pale. She already suspected the answer, but she needed to hear it.

"So...are you?" Valerie asked.

"No!" Phantom's answer was way too quick. "What about you? Don't you hate ghosts?"

"I'm not half ghost!" she snapped back. "I have no clue why they'd think that."

Phantom studied her for a moment. His eyes lit up.

"Your suit!" he declared. "The one Technus gave you. It must make your reading wonky."

The second he reminded her, she felt a cold shiver. Suddenly her heartbeat felt off, and she assumed she was colder than usual because of...ya know. That couldn't be true. It had to be wonky readings. The suit was so nice...so much nicer than the suit that she had made herself. It was so much more powerful, so much nicer, just flat out cooler.

She put her heart over her chest. She still had a heartbeat, right?

"What's your excuse?" she asked. Phantom didn't say anything. He turned his attention to the wall, staring blankly at it.

"...Why would they let us stay trapped in here together?" Phantom changed the subject. Valerie narrowed her eyes at him, but she had to admit. It was a good point. "Especially knowing that we'd just plot our escape together."

"Pump the breaks, Phantom. I'm not escaping," Valerie scoffed. "They'll realize their mistake and just let me go."

"Well, they're not gonna let me go," Phantom frowned. "The Guys in White don't exactly play nice with ghosts. And I'm not leaving without you."

"Not my problem," Valerie replied. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Unless...of course there's a reason for it to be my problem."

"You can't just do it out of the kindness of your heart?" Phantom sounded sarcastic, despite staring at her desperately. Valerie crossed her arms. "Please?"

"Give me one good reason to escape with you."

And thus began a staring contest. Phantom shifted from foot to foot, and he glanced at the floor. A lightbulb made the realization click. The GIW knew her identity. They arrested her at school. But they didn't know Phantom's. Nobody probably did. This was likely a ploy to get them to reveal themselves to each other. How or why, Valerie wasn't sure. But now it was glaringly obvious to her.

Phantom was half-ghost. Just like Dani. Just like Vlad. The Guys in White don't play nice with ghosts, and she had a strong feeling that they didn't care much about playing nice with humans either. Especially if they suspected that there was ghost within them.

"Nevermind," Valerie sighed. Phantom stared at her, and he...looked scared. "I can destroy ghosts…" But I really can't take part in destroying a human.

Phantom grew a bit pale again, as they both knew the unspoken words. He took a deep, shaky breath. His reaction was all she needed to know, that this wasn't some weird lie or ploy.

"So. What's our game plan?" he asked.

Valerie studied their surroundings. She reached out to touch the bars of their shared cell, taking immediate note that she wasn't shocked.

"Well, obviously there's that big shield outside," Valerie lightly mused.

"I can get past that shield," Phantom spoke up. "Under the...right circumstances."

Valerie nodded. If Phantom was able to turn human away from the prying eyes of cameras and more, they could both obviously escape right out the front door. Hell, they could likely utilize both Phantom and his? Human? Side? Whatever he was called.

"This facility was designed for ghosts, not humans," Phantom continued. "If we worked together, we can probably make a quick exit." Valerie hummed in agreement.

"That's not just enough," Valerie replied. "I'll just get arrested again. They know who I am. Like, they know Valerie Gray is the huntress." Phantom frowned, and he thought for a moment.

"We could maybe delete their evidence files or something?" he suggested. Valerie paced their cell for a moment.

"There has to be some kind of computer security room somewhere," Valerie spoke aloud to herself. "If we can find it, we can probably wipe evidence and also fully take down the shield."

Phantom leaned against the back wall of the cell.

"I don't think that's enough," he replied. Valerie stopped pacing to stare at him. "We need to make sure the Guys in White don't do this again. Ever. Never even have the chance to get to this point again." Valerie scowled.

"They help hunt ghosts!" she protested.

"And they'd consider Danielle a ghost and rip her to shreds," Phantom countered. The reminder of that little girl hit her straight in the gut. She sighed.

"I don't know," she said slowly.

"They're a government organization, they'll rebuild," Phantom pushed. "We just need to stall them long enough to buy time for us to figure out how to keep you, Danielle and I safe."

She hated it, but...yeah. She wasn't really in the best position either. Valerie had no clue what was going on with her, but the Guys in White were incredibly persistent...and she knew her dad wouldn't be able to afford a lawyer for her anymore.

Valerie held her wrist up. Her suit's bracelet was basically hidden underneath the anti-ghost one, but she could still feel it there. Her suit wasn't gone. She could still access it, and that made her feel more confident in that she was still human. Which she had to be. Right?

Valerie activated her suit, and she held her wrist up to read the screen. She pressed a few buttons.

"I think I can figure out a map of this place," she said. "And from there we can see where's what."

Her forearm glowed brightly as it gathered data. It took a few moments of calculating, but soon, she had her results. Phantom was soon peering over her shoulder, both of them studying the map.

"How accurate is this?" Phantom questioned.

"It tends to be fairly decent. Sometimes it's hit or miss with collapsed buildings, but overall it's spot on," she replied. She adjusted the screen, zooming it out. "I can only get the floor we're on though."

"That looks like it could be some kind of utility room," Phantom pointed to a specific room. Valerie zoomed in on it, studying it.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "Yeah. Gotta be. It's got a lot of power coming to or from there. Has to be a source, or at the very least some kind of major technology area."

"Either way, we should destroy it," Phantom said. Valerie frowned.

"I don't know," she hesitated.

"I mean, you can't even summon your powers."

Phantom glanced down at his wrists, glancing curiously at them before setting his sights on Valerie's arms.

"Can you shoot them off?" he asked.

Valerie tried to summon one of her weapons. She waited. And she waited. Nothing came, and her gut became queasy. She couldn't get her ghost weapon. None of them would summon. This had to be a bad sign. Or was it just the GIW prepared against humans too? That was the most logical explanation. She couldn't be…But also she could be...after all the ectoplasmic readings...

"Um, actually, I think I can…" Phantom's voice caused her to truly look at him again. The ghost was fiddling with his wristbands, using his knees to lock it in place as he attempted to slip his wrist through the band with no success.

"Here, let me try," Valerie interrupted him. Phantom glanced up at her.

"Can you shoot them?" he asked. Valerie forced a weak smile, but she held up a screwdriver.

"Got something even better. My travel tool kit," she replied. After too many breakdowns in the field, she had replaced a small pouch that previously held smoke bombs, something she rarely used, with a few small tools. It was easily one of the best choices she made.

Phantom held his wrist out to her, and she turned the bracelet around. Eventually she managed to pry a piece of the metallic covering off, exposing screws and a few wires. Valerie didn't undo or cut anything right away, both her and Phantom silently trying to make sense of the connection and mechanics behind it. Would really suck to find out the hard way that disconnecting a certain wire would trigger an alarm, after all.

"I think you shouldn't touch the red wire," Phantom lightly mused. "Pretty sure that's a power, and if you turn it off it'll be bad news."

"Mmm, yeah," Valerie agreed. "I think I can just unscrew this though, and we should just be careful to not slip the wires off."

Phantom nodded, and he waited patiently as she did just so. After twenty minutes of careful disconnecting, Phantom had two hands free, and he flexed his hands with a happy sigh.

"God, that just feels so much better," he told her. He motioned for her to hand him the screwdriver. "Here, I'll do yours." Valerie shook her head.

"I can't leave. I won't say anything if you escape, but they know my identity."

Phantom frowned.

"I'm not leaving you here. Come on, you saw your map. We can destroy their power. We can destroy this entire building," he began, only for Valerie to cut him off.

"And do more destruction? Is that all you think about?" she snapped. "You're safe. They know my identity. You want me to get more charges or something? I can't risk it. I'll just stay here. They'll figure out soon enough that I'm fully human." A full human who apparently had mixed logic as to whether or not they could use their ghost hunting suit. If she was fully human, she could summon those weapons, right? Unless it was specifically preventing any ghost weapon, regardless of the user, use it.

"Red, I don't think you understand," Phantom told her. "They're not going to go easy on you. Even if you prove you're human, they're not going to believe you. You heard them. They already denied you contact to the outside world."

That reminder sent a chill down her spine.

"Then tell my dad," she told him. Phantom stared at her. He began to unzip his suit, and she instantly began to look away. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Valerie, look at me," he demanded.

"You're naked!" she protested.

"I'm not naked, just look."

She decided to humor him with the intention of taking a quick peek. But when she saw him, she felt a cold sweat hit her. Phantom had only zipped enough to expose his chest, and there was a distinctive Y-patterned scar on his chest that stood out against the other scars.

"This is what happened last time I was trapped here. I'm not going to leave you alone here," he stated. He suddenly looked away, and he quickly zipped his suit back up. "There's no way in hell I'm going to risk this happening to you. Red, you need to come with me."

That urgent gut feeling of needing to go finally crashed into her. The GIW would never believe her. Not just because of stubbornness, but...Valerie herself wasn't even sure anymore.

She swallowed dryly, and she nodded. Her right wrist was offered to him.

"Do you know what to do?" she asked. Phantom scowled.

"I just watched you do it," he reminded her. She rolled her eyes, but held her wrist up for him, and a half hour later, she too, was free.

She wasn't sure if she was more concerned or relieved to instantly feel that distinctive rush of power back. The second Phantom removed her bracelet, she knew that she could summon any of her ghost weapons now at her fingertips. But she could still summon her suit regardless, and activate her GPS abilities. Was this normal? Valerie had no clue what this meant anymore.

"So, next step, I think we can escape through here."

Valerie looked up to see Phantom was now floating by the vent at the top of their cell. He was already using her screwdriver to undo the vent cover. She pulled her map back up on her forearm, glancing at it and studying it.

"I'm pretty sure the vent will go straight to that electric room," she told him.

"Oh, now you're finally seeing the big picture?" Phantom lightly teased, glancing over his shoulder as he popped the vent cover off. She nodded at him, but didn't crack a smile.

"...You and Dani may look just alike, but I never want you two to have matching scars," she said. Phantom's smile dropped, and he nodded in agreement.

He placed the vent covering on the top bunk, handing Valerie back her screwdriver. She slipped it back in it's pouch.

"Here, I'll give you a boost up," Phantom offered, pressing his hands together. She nodded, stepping a foot onto his hand. With ease, Phantom pushed her up, and she grabbed onto the vent, pulling herself in. It was surprisingly fairly roomy yet not, and she managed to get comfortable on her stomach, pulling her map back up.

"Ready to commit several federal crimes?" Phantom's voice half joked. She looked behind her the best she could to see the ghost right behind her. She snorted in amusement.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied. "Just follow me. It's time to give these idiots hell."

And hell they did. Who knew that the Guys in Whites headquarters could cause such a colorful explosion.

[xecutivecucumber]

Rexsoka Week 2021 Day 7: FUBAR

I hope everyone enjoyed my Rexsoka week contributions. I've had a lot of fun with them. Thanks for all the support!

This one is a little less focused on their relationship and more on the...effed up part of things.

TW: Non Graphic Torture

Day 7: FUBAR

Rex had hung for hours. They'd stripped him of his armor and blacks. His arms were wrenched upward and over a horizontal bar of metal. His legs were forced in an uncomfortable position, as if he was doing a squat midair. Most of his weight was on his bent knees. The device he was entangled with seemed to be a relic of the Separatists.

Rex had no hope of getting out of here alive. It would be foolish to go so deep into Imperial territory for one soldier, even as high ranking as he was. And Rex prided himself with the knowledge that he would never give any sensitive information away.

They'd started the normal Imperial interrogation process with him, using an IT-0 droid to try and get him to talk. Rex was better than that. The clones had been trained to resist the mundane mind probe that the droids used.

But then they had stopped. Some higher up wanted to interrogate Rex themselves, and Rex was to be untouched until they got there.

So Rex hung. The pain of his shoulders and knees was probably more effective than what any of the average Imperial idiots could inflict. By the whispered tones of the Imps in charge of him, whoever was coming for Rex was far from average.

Rex didn't fear pain. He'd been under extreme distress, physical, mental, and emotional, before. He hadn't broken then. He wouldn't break now.

Finally, the door slid open, and a tall, dark figure swept in. Its head was covered in a helmet that hid any trace of humanity. The sound of rasping breathing accompanied it, as if each breath was forced in and out of the thing's body. It stared at Rex, and Rex was so transfixed by its blank stare that he almost didn't notice the thing's companion.

A clone, holding his black helmet at his side, with greying hair and a wandering scar down the left side of his face.

Rex's breath caught.

"Cody? " He asked.

He didn't need it confirmed. It was Cody. Rex could never forget his ori'vod's face.

It seemed that Cody had forgotten Rex. He looked Rex over with a blank stare. His chip was still active.

"Captain Rex." The dark figure said in a deep, robotic voice that nudged something in Rex's memory. "You were listed as killed in action."

"Well," Rex said, though he could not tear his eyes from Cody's face. "Reports can be wrong."

"Yes." The figure said. "It seems so. Which leads me to believe that others that were believed dead may yet be alive."

Rex tried not to let his fear show in his face. He knew who this man wanted.

"Tell me." The figure stepped forward. "Where is Ahsoka Tano?"

Rex managed to look away from his brother and into the figure's helmeted face.

"Ahsoka Tano is dead." He said with as much conviction as he could muster.

"I see." The figure said. "Commander, you may begin."

"Yes, Lord Vader." Cody said.

In a fluid movement he withdrew an electrostaff and slammed it into Rex's side. Rex hissed through his teeth as he felt ribs break. Then the electricity began coursing through his body in burning waves. Rex’s jaw clenched involuntarily, keeping him from making much noise.

Rex fell limp as Cody finally drew the staff away.

"Where is Ahsoka Tano?" Vader asked again.

Rex struggled to lift his head.

"She's dead." He said.

Vader stared at him for a long time before turning to Cody.

"Continue."

Ahsoka stole through the halls of the Imperial facility. Rex was here somewhere. At least, that’s what she prayed. The chances of him surviving at the hands of the Imperials seven days were-

Ahsoka refused to let herself dwell on it.

She paused at a corner when she heard the idle chatter of two TK troopers nearby.

"I wish Lord Vader would hurry up and kill the wretch." One complained. "Patrolling the detention level is becoming a real pain."

"Gives me a headache." The other grumbled. "Judging by its screams, I doubt it can last much longer."

Ahsoka's heart quickened. He was alive. She waited for the troopers to move past and quickly made her way to the nearest lift. The Force guided her hands to hit level B3.

The lift opened and Ahsoka felt sick. Rex's screams were echoing throughout the hallway. There was something else; whatever was torturing him was a Force user. A powerful and Dark one at that.

Ahsoka grit her teeth. There went her plan to go in sabers blazing. She edged closer to the area from which Rex's noises of distress were coming from. Soon she could make out words.

" SHE'S DEAD! SHE'S DEAD!" Rex was screaming.

So that's what they wanted to know. Ahsoka tried to reach for Rex's mind, but it was saturated with pain, oblivious to everything but the torture being inflicted on him.

Ahsoka found a storage closet adjacent to the room Rex was in. She would have to wait this out, no matter how badly she wanted to stop Rex's tormentors.

After a while Rex's screams turned to sobs, and the words he said changed.

" Kote, vod, gedet'ye!"

Cody, brother, please.

Ahsoka's heart clenched as she translated the words in her head. He was calling for Cody. She prayed that he was seeing some delusion, and that Cody was not playing a part in his torture.

His sobs began to fade. Ahsoka pressed a montral to the wall. A door opened and shut. Ahsoka waited a minute before unsheathing her sabers. She drew them in a circle in the wall and forced the cut section forward. The room she stepped into was overly bright. The floor was tacky and pinkish. Ahsoka swallowed bile before looking at the back of the room.

Rex was twisted around a metal frame, forced into what looked like an excruciating position. He was mostly naked, save for his grey undershorts. It seemed there wasn't a bit of skin that wasn't bruised, burned, or cut. Blood ran in dribbles from fresh slashes on his chest. He didn't look up as she approached him. His head lolled forwards.

" She's dead. " He whispered through chapped lips. " Kote, gedet'ye, she's dead. "

Ahsoka shook herself and wasted no more time in releasing him from his bindings. He'd lost weight in the few days he'd been here, and Ahsoka easily lifted him. A soft groan escaped him as she shouldered most of his weight.

"It's okay, Rex." Ahsoka promised him. "It's over now."

It would be. Even if they were caught, the answer the Imperials wanted was given by her presence. There would be no need to continue his interrogations.

Of course, they could always use him against her.

She quickly scanned near her. There was one guard nearby. The dark presence was getting further away.

Ahsoka set Rex down before slipping out the door. The startled guard didn't have time to make a noise before Ahsoka slammed him against the wall. He crumpled. Ahsoka retrieved Rex and started their painfully slow way down the corridor.

Rex occasionally made soft noises of pain as she jostled him. They got to the turbolift with no incidents. Ahsoka could sense the guards on the level on which her stolen Imperial shuttle was docked. There weren’t many, and by some miracle of the Force she managed to get Rex to the hangar without being seen. He let out a pitiful groan as she quickened her pace.

"I'm sorry." Ahsoka whispered. "We're almost out. Just-"

The dark presence suddenly reappeared, looming between them and the shuttle.

Ahsoka had no time, not with Rex's dead weight, to move before the man to which the presence belonged stepped from behind another ship. If it could be called a man. It seemed more like a droid.

"Ahsoka Tano." It said. "Captain Rex has become a more convincing liar. I almost believed him when he said you were dead."

Ahsoka tensed. She would not leave Rex. But she didn't see a way out of this.

"Something I'm sure you're eager to rectify." Ahsoka spat.

"There is a way for you to survive. For you both to survive." It said. "Join the Empire and you will both live."

"And become whatever you are? No." Ahsoka said.

The figure did not immediately attack.

"You think this path leads to anything else?" It asked. "Your attachment to the clone is far too deep."

"I'm sure it was only attachment that made you fall." Ahsoka said.

Her mind raced. What could she do? She would not leave Rex, but she couldn’t move quickly with his weight. And this thing was powerful .

"I see that you are resolved." The thing said. "Then I offer you this. Surrender, and I will give you both painless deaths."

For half a moment Ahsoka was tempted. Rex's pain was saturating the Force. She didn't want him to hurt anymore. And she saw no way out.

Her hesitation was seen as a refusal. The thing reached out a clawed hand. Ahsoka tensed, but nothing touched her. Rex, on the other hand, stiffened. Ahsoka nearly dropped him as he struggled for air.

"No!" Ahsoka said. "I didn't-"

A blaster shot rang through the hangar. The thing whirled to the side and deflected it with a hand. Rex relaxed.

Ahsoka only paused long enough to see a familiar clone pointing a blaster at the thing. She drew upon the Force and darted forward, past the figure who was concerned with blocking the barrage of blaster fire raining down on it.

"No more!" She heard Cody shout. " No more! "

She reached out briefly to try to connect with Cody and found a shattered mind. Whatever they had done to Rex had been too much for him.

Ahsoka dragged Rex the last few feet to the shuttle.

"Now, R-7!" She shouted.

The shuttle's door began to rise. Right before it shut, Ahsoka saw the Dark creature shear through Cody's chest with a blood red blade.

There was no med bay in the Imperial shuttle, so Ahsoka had to lay Rex on a clean sheet in the middle of the passenger bay. It had taken nearly two hours to dress Rex's injuries. Ahsoka had to set his broken fingers, wrap his ribs, and put bacta on every burn and laceration. He began to stir as she was finishing wrapping the cut up soles of his feet.

He groaned as he shifted, eyes opening to a slit.

"'Soka." He mumbled.

He struggled to lift himself.

"Shhh." Ahsoka said, gently easing himself back down. "Lie still."

She began running her fingers through his short hair in a hopefully soothing manner. He closed his eyes again and his head sagged to the side.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"Hurts." He slurred.

Ahsoka frowned. She already had him on pretty heavy painkillers. She couldn't give him more, but she hated that he was still in pain.

She continued to massage his head. She hoped he was heading back to sleep.

"Cody?" He asked.

Ahsoka felt sick at his hopeful tone.

"I'm so sorry, Rex." She said. "He didn't make it."

Rex didn't say anything at first. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Was it-" He struggled to form the words. "You?"

Ahsoka moved her hand to the side of his face.

"That thing killed him." Ahsoka said. "He died so we could escape."

Rex squeezed his eyes shut. The agony that warped the Force around him deepened. He turned his head away from her, a tear tracing down his cheek.

“No more.” He muttered. “ No more. ”

Check it out and my other Rexsoka Fics on A03!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34125910/chapters/85234081

https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExecutiveCucumber/works