#anyways I get there and it's just tall white men as far as the eye can see

[pinolitas]

Orville peck on tour but if I've learned anything about gays and this specific venue it's that I am not gonna see SHIT

[col0rlord]

Pool table 🎱

Jake Seresin x reader!

Summary: You like playing pool? Someone you know does too. This challenge might be a win, win for you either way you play.

~🎱🍒🍺🐆~

It was a typical Thursday at the Hard Deck around 7:30ish. Maybe a little later. You placed the pool balls in the rack, with the 8 ball right in the middle. A little warm up before the crowd came shuffling in.

There were a few older men sitting at the bar nursing their drinks. Too busy talking to one another before it was too loud to even hear the balls clinking off each other. They seemed like they were catching up and talking about the latest news in their life.

Regulars you have seen before.

Never got their names, but they know yours from Penny yelling it across the bar for you to retrieve the drink you get every time. A blue moon glass bottle.

Taking the rack away from the balls and hitting the first shot straight to the middle watching as the balls landed in their placement like popping open confetti on January 1st when the clock hit midnight. Feeling the heat from the heater roll of your neck after taking your hair and putting it in a ponytail.

Not playing anyone just practicing the hits and warming up when someone does come up and ask to play.

Warming up the little tricks you had. Put on a show for the people. They liked it. Sitting on the table and shooting from behind your back was the crowd favorite. Skipping the ball over the other and getting it in was a good one too. When you put the two together there was always someone coming up to you asking how you did that in the first place.

Slowly the bar became more alive and you weren't even halfway done with your drink yet. Downing the rest before people came over to watch you and some random play for money or anything really.

Walking to the bar to get a refill Penny looked you up and down as she was wiping a glass with a white rag she then flipped on her shoulder to rest for later use. “Y/n, those moves are going to get you in trouble one of these days.” She said as she grabbed my glass bottle, throwing it away and opening another one for me.

Shrugging at the idea of a man throwing a fit over losing to you in a game of 8 ball. “Maybe we will make the big bucks tonight. People love to see me as they try and win. I’m just too good at this shit. Nights like this seem to be busier anyways, so I came tonight instead of tomorrow night,” You told her as she placed the drink in front of you winking as you grinning knowing you are right.

“Watch out Y/n. We got some Aviators walking in soon. Might have a bit of a challenge up for you there.” She spoke out as you were walking away back to the table to finish what was going on, on the spread of balls.

Later on, around 8:30 now, you had some guy walking up to you wanting to play. This poor guy came in almost every night trying to win against you. You even went a little easy on him a few times. Trying to offer help but he always turned it down saying he ‘Could win against you without a female's help.’

We moved past that as I kept winning, he never said anything else about it after those first 4 times of me winning.

“That's game Logan.” you said bent the table over looking at him through your lashes as you hit the 8 ball into the far right pocket all the way from the other corner. Smirking as you watch it roll into the pocket. Looking back at the older ladies smoking a cigarette as they all high-fived me. Taking a swig of my beer. Feeling the condensation roll down my hands and between my fingers.

He rolled his eyes and placed the pool cue on the end of the table and walked off. The cue rolled over the edge and onto the ground with a loud clanking sound, as it tottered from the tip to the end about 3 times. The noise ended abruptly. Whipping your head around fast to watch who stopped it. You see this tall man in an Aviator uniform. Brown hair and green eyes. Face was sharp and square. Tan, buff. easy to look at. I could go on and on

“Y/n Y/l/n. heard of the name but never met in person. Saw your picture on the wall back there. I’m Lieutenant Jake Seresin. Pleasure is mine.’” Reaching his hand out for me to take it after he moved the toothpick in his mouth. Looking at you with a wink and a smirk plastered on his face. You placed your hand in his. You both shook as a greeting.

“Lieutenant?” you asked him up and down taking in the uniform and how it fitted him. Then moved your head to the side to look at the other uniformed people behind him. One wore glasses. One with his arms crossed and a shaved head, and a lady with a slick back bun.

He chuckled and looked to the right of him at the table. Then right back at you letting go of my hand walking around the table. “Want to go a round or two?” He asked, walking to the table and placing the balls back in the rack. Moving the rack around staring right in your eyes.

“Are we playing for anything or are you just testing the waters first?” You asked, walking back to the table you placed your cue to lean against the table and grabbing the blue chalk. The ego needed to be checked on this one and you were the one that was sweating to do so. Leaning it back against the pool table to spread your hands out to lean over and watch his moves at the other end.

He chuckled again pulling out his wallet. You raised an eyebrow watching his moves and he walked over to the table right next to him. “Oh Y/l/n. how I was praying you would be here tonight. Just! So I could get this opportunity to play against you. 200.” He said bending his knees and squeezing his eyes shut at the word ‘just’ pulling out four 50 dollar bills and placing them down with a hard smack.

“But for me. All I am asking for is one date.” He said walking back to the other side of the table.

You looked up from the green fabric table and up at him, smirking. Tapping your foot as you thought about it. He wasn't ugly. Like you said, easy to look at. You rolled your lips together and walked over to him placing a hand on his shoulder and leaned closely into his ear so he could feel your breath on his neck. A little teasing wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“You’re on Lieutenant Seresin” You whispered into his neck. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes as he swallowed hard. Then stepped back as he got ready to take his shot right down the middle.

[alienpossession]

Prologue of my own take for this alien story by @apushforfolly

A little bit connected to @fullfriendnerdpurse story because imagine how convenient that he used the guy I planned to use on one of his alien story, and I linked it to my early caption too that you'll find later below. Kudos to @cleanstatevessels for bugging me consistently (LOL) to fulfill my promise

Sander van Broek is a Dutch fitness model and businessman. He's a rather established name in the fitness industry and that caused him to frequently fly all over the globe for fitness expo and bodybuilding meet where he will meet old friends, build new business and personal network or sometimes speak as a panel for his experience. Due to that, Dubai become a very sensible choice of residence for him because it's practically a global hub nowadays, and he's more than lucky to have some people he knows that can show him good places to rent

Sander knew Andrei from a couple years ago as fellow fitness enthusiast. They were cordial at first, but similar type of jokes and life mindset eventually bonded the two men and they've been close friends ever since. Andrei conveniently also worked as a realtor, guess his easy-going personality and charming look proven to be helpful to close deals with the rich and wealthy. Not to mention that he's a polyglot, capable to speak Romanian (his native tongue), Spanish (his girlfriend's native tongue and still part of broader Romance language), French, Russian (language spoken by his boss in the real estate firm), English and Arabic, making him probably a great asset to attract international clientele. All the places he shown were remarkable and located in great spots, but Sander felt the prices to be a bit steep.

"Crazy view, eh? This place gets both of the best sight, and the way this room perfectly captured the sunrise and sunset, perfect righr?"

"Certainly yeah. But again, this is like the 5th place you shown me to be above my budget. I have money, but I don't think I wanna blow it for rent,"

"No worries, price is pretty much negotiable, you know. Let's talk about it while drinking in my office, shall we? We're done looking anyway,"

"How negotiable are we talking about here?"

"You'll be surprised," said Andrei with a smirk, grabbing his Ferrari key and ready to leave the unit with Sander following him closely right behind him

When they arrived in the towering glass skyscraper, Sander cannot help but look upward until his eyes blinded by the sun. Dutch might be the tallest people on Earth, but there's no such tall building in the Netherlands, that's for sure. Andrei tossed his key to the valet and strut to the lobby with confidence in his step, everyone seemed to know him just by looking at him. Well, not like you can ignore a presence like Andrei anyway, he just demanded such attention to every spaces he walked into. As the elevator flies through the floor, he just hummed casually while Sander still marveled at the whole bunch of floors they passed through and how far they are already from the ground within seconds. As the elevator dings at the 66th floor, it opens to a short hallway with lobby in the end of it. The two receptionist greeted Andrei and Sander warmly and as he stepped through the lobby area, the door behind him closed

"That's just the way it is. Don't be afraid hahah,"

"Just surprised on how loud it was, that's all,"

"Okay, you go to the 2nd room after you take left, okay? I'll be there in a sec, gotta talk to boss,"

"Sure thing,"

"Oh, and by the way, what do you want to drink?"

"Anything is fine actually. Just don't get me too drunk, we're still talking about apartment,"

"Okay, as you wished. Just wait for a sec, okay?"

"Sure bro,"

So Sander fidgeted rather awkwardly in the dimly-lit room all by himself, waiting for Andrei to come back. So that's the boss? Piotr something? Sander saw a glimpse of a man with traditional white Arab headdress, the guy is massive and he seemed like a rather stern boss. Is that guy the Russian's counterpart? He's pretty sure he heard Andrei said his boss is Russian, but that one clearly seemed like an Arab and he's pretty sure he read that "Piotr" is the one written in the gold plaque attached to the slightly opened door earlier

---

"Frankie, how's Piotr doing?"

"Still not awake and no response from his body, my Prince. Just very tense and excessively sweating. Probably the slug still trying to wrestle the control over," said the nerd from a hidden office suite right behind the bookshelves within the CEO room

"You see, Andrei? I told you, some of these guys are just not that easy to be taken over. It's beginner's luck that you got someone as massive as him as your vessel," said the Prince from his chair

"Well, clearly Piotr was not easy to be taken over. For starter, he doesn't even understand what the fuck you are saying since he only speaks Russian and here you are prancing as an Arabic prince, and two, I told you I'll take care of him. He trusted Andrei, trust means easier takeover as they won't raise their guard or being too defensive,"

"Show me then. I see you bring a fella earlier. Show me how much "trust" will help you take that guy over. I check his profile, seemed interesting,"

"Pffft, you're underestimating me, Prince Hamid. You see......*take a bottle of wine from one of the small cellar in the CEO room* *take his shorts down* *painted the glass with his black slug* it won't even take more than 5 minutes and he'll be under my control. You'll give that body up to me and the chain of command, including the fate of that dweeb, if I can prove it to you how well my method works," Andrei said as he poured the red wine into the slug-stained glass. The slug camouflaged itself by changing its color and texture to match the wine's depth of color. Mere seconds later and it seemed like it's always been red wine and nothing else ever added there.

"And if you failed?" the prince smirked

"I'll let that nerdy friend of yours used me as he pleased," Andrei hissed while looking at the nerd with disgusted look as the nerd tended to his passed out boss

"Deal. I'm inside a Prince for a reason, young man. I know what I'm doing,"

"Yeah, he's in the middle of a climax when you shot yourself into his asshole. It's not like he can fight you, he's spent. And you got that nerd helping you. Me getting inside of Andrei might be luck, but the rest of those folks you met, the people I takeover, all taken over smoothly because they never thought their own realtor turned out to be something out of this world and all of those process were hella smoother than my first takeover of this stud," Andrei said as he wipes the remnant of the cum-slug in his piss slit with his fingers, give it a delightful lick before putting on his pants back. He then strut to his office to seal the whole deal with his so-called "friend" while the Prince followed him with some distance.

----

"Hey there, sorry. Searched for some of the documents first and talked with the boss about work," said Andrei as he barged into the room where Sander already waited for him

"That's okay, is that for me?" Sander asked, his eyes eyeing the glass of wine Andrei held alongside the bottle and some papers in his other hand

"Oh yeah, for you. Sorry about that," said Andrei, a little bit forgetful about his sole goal as he played Andrei a bit too realistic sometimes while he handed over the wine glass

But instead of directly drinking it, Sander just simply put the glass on the table, which trigger raised eyebrow from Andrei

"You don't want to drink first?"

"Oh no, let's hear first about those units, and maybe if we reached a deal, I'll drink,"

"Ahh....okay *internally cursing Sander*. If that's what you want. So, basically, you can get those units with half of their prices, max,"

"What? Half?! That's so great, how the hell that happened?"

"I told them you're going to be a long-term tenant and with your job, they probably won't have to worry about the payment and all. Just basically convinced them, you know,"

"Are you playing with me right now? Is there something I have to do for them or anything? Half is crazy, bro,"

"No, I'm serious. But yeah, they wanted something. Nothing nefarious or anything, the owner of the last unit just wanted you to help by personally training their son," Andrei said, trying to hide his grin from Sander by turning his back to him and acting busy in his table

"Really? That simple? Huh well, cheers to that then," he said, instantly taking a gulp of the wine in one go due to his excitement

Not even 5 seconds later, the glass dropped to the floor as Sander's body instantly having a massive seizure. His eyes fluttered and mouth foaming like crazy as his body wriggled like a seaweed, flailing here and there purely moved by the spasm of his own body. The Prince steps into the room with his timer recorded 0:25 seconds left. Upon witnessing the state of the man he saw walked earlier, he smirked because there's no way this guy would be back to normal within seconds! But, in a plot twist the Prince didn't see coming, Sander instantly groaned when the timer left 0:08 seconds as he then stabilized and start taking normal, paused breath.

"You thought I'll fail, huh?"

The Prince just seethed in anger. The timer stops at 0:02 seconds, but promise is a promise so a black, oil-like slug gets out from the Prince's ear and then slide off to the floor. It purred upon meeting another slug that came from inside Andrei's body before heading to their respective new vessel. As both men cracked their neck upon the alien entering their brain, Sander murmured

"This guy really didn't see it coming. He simply thought he's going to die or something, that's all what I gathered from his final memory. The burst almost caused his clothes to torn apart by the way, he really likes tight clothing," He said while trying to assess and fix his tight shirt that enveloped his muscular virile form

"Well, the rest of his memories will be accessible to you for the next couple hours so you can lounge around if you want. But yeah, as I said, the owner of the unit wanted you to train their eldest son. Of course the owner is also one of us, but I guess he has that attachment issue to his human vessel or something, some of the team are watching him closely to ensure that he can serve in full capacity or else we will just abandon that old fit man. But in the meantime, I'm the one tasked to ensure we also convert his eldest son. He's based in UK, but he'll move to Dubai in the next few weeks. Since I'm no longer Andrei, you'll do the job alongside Sander, is that clear?" said the alien formerly inside Andrei that now comfortably reside inside the authoritative Prince

Both Sander and Andrei just nodded and said "okay" slowly, one still trying to adjust to a new life with a vessel and the other one still dejected that he just lost a nobility's physique. But not like any of them can say no, they understand that their mission is important to the cause.

"And now, I'm going to leave this premise and contacted HQ for update about our changes. And, let's not try to make my father's suspicious that his youngest Prince went missing for long period of time with no possible info on his whereabouts, don't want to make that old man worried sick. Let's update each other's progress a month from now, hopefully by then you two and Piotr plus the nerd have more progress in branching out, I'm the Prince after all, yall report to me,"

----

"So Mike, how do you like this condo? Your father told us to take good care of it for you. Or you want to look at some spaces to rent on your own?" said Andrei and Sander to the oblivious Mike, not knowing the fate that awaits him.....

[odditycircus-2002]

Since your requests are open: could you do a fic about MK11 Fujin hearing the reader sing and he thinks it’s absolutely beautiful, so the reader does a mini concert with just him watching?

If you need certain songs to put into this, I got you:

A/N: Thank you for the songs and for my first fic request that doesn't involve my usual Mortal Kombat men! I hope I do Fujinn justice, as he seems like a chill dude. Oh! And for the song in this fic, I went with "The Voice" by Celtic Woman. I'd thought it would be fitting with its elemental lyrics. I'll also try to keep these requests as gender-neutral as possible unless specified otherwise.

The Voice

Being the god of the Wind came with many perks. Not only is Fujin granted with divine power, but also the ability to fly and ride on the winds to wherever he desires. Currently, the wind god has no specific location where he desires to reach. Fujin is currently content with riding the winds on a rare peaceful day in Earthrealm, with no sign of an upcoming attack from Outworld's inhabitants. That is until the demi-god caught wisps of a melody within his breeze. The melody carried soft notes with an almost haunting quality to it. Fujin eases his winds to a halt within a forest, waiting to hear more of the melody.

His patience is rewarded when he hears it dancing on the breeze again. Fujin judges by the volume of the music, its source isn't too far from him. With footsteps light as the wind he commands, the demi-god treks through the woods, the music becoming louder and clearer with each step he takes. Eventually, his search takes him to a clearing with some mostly smooth boulders in the center. On top of those boulders sat a young adult Earthrealmer plucking at the strings off a worn but loved fiddle. They occasionally would play some notes before following them by singing in possibly the most beautiful voice he's ever heard in all of his existence.

"I am the voice in the wind and the pouring rain. I am the voice of your hunger and..."

The earthrealmer trails off before letting a huff of frustration which is when Fujin decided to make his presence known.

"Why did you stop?"

"Gah!"

You let out a shout in surprise, fumbling with your fiddle and bow as they almost fell from your arms. Fujin holds up his hands in a placating manner as he takes another step into the clearing with a soft expression on his face.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to startle you,"

"Are you blind?"

You cut off the strange looking newcomer, taking in his bright pale eyes and long silver braid.

"Pardon?"

"Your eyes. They're really white as if you're blind. Are you?"

Fujin gives an amused grin.

"No and I am glad. Otherwise, I'd never get to see you sing err..."

"Y/N, the name's Y/N. Do you have one too stranger?"

You are quick to ask as you turn your head away from the tall and handsome newcomer, hoping he doesn't see your flustered expression.

"My name is Fujin."

The demi-godd decides to leave it at that, for now, not wanting to further surprise you and possibly drive you away by revealing his role as one of Earthrealm's divine protectors and god of the wind.

"So Fujin, you caught me at a bit of a bad time,"

"And why is that?"

Fujin gently asks. You look around at anything but the newcomer, while running your fingers along your bow.

"Well, I'm supposed to be composing a song. I have the notes but I don't quite have all the words."

"If it helps, your singing is very beautiful."

"Oh uhhh, thank you."

You blush as you start to absentmindedly pluck a few notes of your fiddle. Fujin is now just a few feet away from you, close but with respectable distance between you.

"I would like to listen to more of your work, if you'll allow it."

"Sure! Uh- I mean- I mean, sure. That would be wonderful. I could use a muse anyways."

You then stand up on your feet, realizing how you're only just slightly taller than Fujin with the platform beneath you. You dust yourself off, you then hop onto a higher boulder. After making a few adjustments with your fiddle's strings, you start to sing.

Fujin was fortunate enough to snatch snippets of your singing while he was riding the winds, but those pale in comparison to hearing you right in front of him. Your voice is strong and proud. It is ethereal and eerie. It is as if listening to the Elder gods sing themselves.

When you start to play your fiddle for the musical segment of your song, you jump down from your boulder to start skipping around the clearing. You almost appear to be floating on air, and actually do at one point, but you hardly notice as you're too engulfed by the music. Around you and Fujin, the wind starts to blow and picking up the fallen leaves, filling the clearing with a myriad of warm colors.

"I am the Voice of the past that will always be filled with my sorrows and blood in my fields!

I am the Voice of the future! Bring me your peace... Bring me your peace and my wounds... They will heal."

Throughout your mini concert, Fujin's gaze never wavered from your form as if trying to commit every move and gesture to memory. As you paint a rhapsody with your body but write a requiem with your song. At last, it comes to a stop and so the Demi-god does the only thing he could think to do and claps.

You give a beaming smile at Fujin before taking a pantomime bow.

"Thank you, thanks for being such a great audience and muse."

You then blow him a kiss.

[pullhisteeth]

knight in a navy blue boiler suit | eddie munson x reader

part 1 | part 2

summary you take your car in for fixing and the mechanics are a**holes about it. Eddie, though, saves the day. [1.8k]

contains misogynists >:(, generally a bit of a nervy situation in an autoshop, mechanic!eddie, fem!reader, male saviour trope (sorryyy), use of y/n, fluff! big fat set up for a part 2 lol x

-

“Hello?” you call out. You’re hesitant to walk further than where you’re hovering in the doorway because you’re surrounded by suspended cars and tools scattered on the ground, and knowing your own tendency for being reckless underfoot you think it best to stay where you are. Also, though you desperately want to think good of everyone you meet, you’re a woman in an auto shop. Alone.

“You alright, miss?”

To your left, a young guy rolls out from underneath a car and stands. He’s short and covered in what you assume is oil, but he has a kind face that puts you at ease.

“Hi,” you say, trying your best to sound more confident than you are. “I, uh, my car’s busted, I think.”

He walks over to you, wringing his hands with a scruffy rag, and you try your hardest to not shuffle backwards.

“What’s up with it?”

“It, uh, stutters, I guess, when I turn it on. Sometimes it takes a few goes to get it goin’.”

His face moulds into a hard, concerned expression, before cutting into a grin. His whole face scrunches when he does, and you try to ignore the way you sense the kindness slipping away.

“We’ll take a look at it for ya, no worries. You got the keys?”

You dig your hand in the pocket of your jeans and when you drop the key in his hand, he seizes yours and says, “we’ll get it sorted, don’t you worry.”

His words tone drips with a saccharine sweetness that claws under your skin. You pull your hand from his grip with a small, “thanks,” and he says, “come write your number down for me, babe, and we’ll give you a call when we’re done.”

You follow him quietly through the shop into a small office at the back. It’s lit by ugly white lights and made up of dark faux-leather couches and a makeshift wooden counter, where there’s a book open. He hands you a pen and you write your name and your number, as well as the make of your car and the licence plate, and try all the while to ignore his eyes boring holes in the side of your face.

You don’t see any other mechanics as you walk back through the shop, except a floppy mass of dark, curly hair poking out under another car.

-

The phone rings at half four that afternoon. You’re on the couch, house-bound without a car to get you anywhere, wasting the day away with daytime television and a book.

When you answer the phone, the voice on the other end isn’t the one you spoke to earlier. It’s softer, kinder, and you can tell that whoever it is, they’re tired.

“Hey, is this y/n?”

“Hi, yeah. That’s me.”

“Hey, your car’s ready if you wanna come pick it up.”

“Thanks, yeah, I’ll be there by five?”

“See ya then.”

The line goes dead before you can say goodbye back.

-

By the time you reach the garage it’s half five and dark. It’s that weird time of year, at the break of fall, where the days are warm and the dark brings blistering cold. So, naturally, you’re freezing, late and embarrassed.

You tread over the threshold at the garage and, just like earlier, hesitate before moving any further. There are more men here now – five or so of them, dotted around the room. There are two in the corner, both tall and broad and a lot older than the one you met before, and they turn to look at you when you arrive.

You see them utter something to each other – they’re too far away for you to hear, but they make sure to keep themselves quiet anyway and it sets your teeth on edge.

“Hey, darlin’, what’s up?” One of them, the taller of the two, calls over to you. The rest of the men turn to look at you when he does, and if you didn’t feel like a deer in headlights before, you certainly do now. 

You scan the room and you know how wide-eyed and nervous you must look. There are six men in total; in the other corner, you see the one who took your keys earlier on.

You wonder who you spoke to on the phone.

One of them, whose hair you recognise from when you left, is the youngest. He’s maybe a couple years older than you at most, and unlike the rest of them he isn’t sneering at you, or smiling at all, actually. If anything, he’s looking at you with eyes as wide as you think yours are.

“I’m here to get my car,” you declare, not sure exactly to whom you should be speaking. You direct it vaguely at the guy who acknowledged you, who's walking over to you with a smug smile that turns your stomach.

“What kinda car was it?” He’s stood right in front of you now, too close for comfort, and you have to crane your neck up to look him in the eye.

When you answer his question he chuckles, shaking his head slightly. You’re not sure what’s funny.

“Yeah, yeah, follow me,” he says through bared teeth. It makes the hairs on your arms stand on end.

He takes you to the office where he roots in a box for your keys. As he hands them to you he places his hand on your lower back and guides you out of the office and back through the garage. His head is hanging low, mouth by your ear, and he’s telling you in a low, somewhat theatrical voice that there’s nothing wrong with your car, and that it’s okay, girls like you make these mistakes sometimes.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, we won’t charge ya.”

He stops walking when you reach the middle of the room. He rounds on you, towering over you in a way that kicks you into a stressed stupor. You’re not sure how to deal with this situation, with a mean man twice your size domineering you like this in a room full of other men who’d likely do the same if given the chance.

Underneath it all, though, there’s an anger simmering lowly. You’ve been driving for a few years now, and you’ve learned a thing or two about cars in that time. It’s unfair that they can be so condescending just because you’re a woman.

You want to fight him on it, argue your case and say that can’t be true, you haven’t looked properly, I know what I’m talking about. But you don’t – or can’t. You’re left speechless, mouth opening and closing like a stupid fish out of water.

And then he laughs at you. It’s not like the snide chuckle from earlier; this is a full laugh, laced with cruelty and condescension. And as he does, he looks up and around the room, and the other men laugh with him. You’re trapped in a room filled with misogynists who are all laughing at you.

“Cut it out, guys.”

His voice cuts across the room like a gunshot. It’s irritated and cold but you recognise it as the one you heard down the phone. You turn to look at where it came from and find the younger man stalking miserably toward you.

His hair is wild, you notice. Even when he’s upright and not laid flat under a car, it seems to have a life of its own. He’s tall, though he has nothing on the guy stood beside you, and the arms of his boiler suit are tied around his waist to reveal a filthy white t-shirt. When his eyes meet yours they soften irresistibly and suddenly you feel the desire to run begin to dissipate.

As he reaches you, the laughter starts up again. He stops a few feet away from you, a silent invitation for you to meet him halfway so he doesn’t get as close as the other guy. You do, stepping over to him, and he leans down and says warmly, “Sorry about them.” As he turns toward the door, he adds, “I’ll show you where your car is.”

You follow silently, trying your hardest to tune out the now boisterous and unyielding laughter behind you. He takes you out onto the street, where you see your car parked a couple spaces down, but he stops when you reach the wide doorway and turns to give them a glare.

He looks back at you, where you’re stood with your arms crossed around your middle to guard from the cold, and says, “seriously, I’m sorry ‘bout them. They’re a bunch of assholes.”

You struggle to find words, focus instead taken by the way the orange streetlamp makes his hair glow like the sun.

“Are you okay?” As he asks this, he brings a tentative hand to brush your shoulder, as if to lightly shake you awake.

“Yeah,” you say, voice almost a whisper. “Thanks.”

“Here,” he says, gesturing to where your beaten-up old car is parked lazily by the curb. “I didn’t get a chance to look at it, but if you want…” He hesitates, stumbling a little over his words, a complete contradiction to the white-hot confidence he’d just displayed in the garage.

You look up at him, hoping your face is enough to encourage him to continue. It seems to be, because he meets your gaze again and smiles.

“I can have a look at it for you, if ya want. Not here,” he adds quickly. “You can bring it to my place. Only if you want, of course.”

His politeness and the extension of completely unnecessary kindness feeds a warmth that spreads from your scalp down your spine. You beam up at him, and attempt to soothe what you think are his nerves by saying, “that’s really kind of you, thank you.”

“Okay, just, uh… I’ll get your number from the book if that’s cool.” You nod your head at him a little too enthusiastically.

“Oh,” you gasp, realising you have no idea who this man really is. “I’m y/n.”

“Nice to meet you, y/n,” he says with a grin that’s got none of the artificial flavour of the man you saw this morning, and you realise he knew your name already because he's the one who called you. You feel a familiar heat travel up your neck and spread across your cheeks, but he just chuckles at you. “’M Eddie.”

“Eddie,” you repeat in a breath.

He walks you to your car, which is approximately fifteen steps, but the gesture spreads that warmth even further. He’s handsome and kind and he’s going to fix your car for you; what’s not to like? 

“Thanks again,” you say quietly as you open the driver side door. You stand inside it for a moment and look at him. He’s looking back with a lopsided smile and you can’t help but admire his big brown eyes and the dimples in his cheeks.

“Sure thing, sugar,” he slurs in response, taking the top of the door and opening it wider for you to slide in. Your eyes flicker to the chain around his neck and then the thick silver rings on three of his slender fingers. They make a metallic clink when his hand grips the frame of the door.

You get in, and he leans down to say, “see ya soon,” before shutting the door for you.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Heretic's Confession, Chapter One

CW: Captivity whump, some... implications... references to branding. This is just me getting a feel for the idea and character, though, really.

-

The robes he once kept pristine are caked in dried mud around the hem. Grigory frowns as he inspects them, rubbing along the seam. It flakes away, leaving imprints of itself behind. 

Maudlin, certainly, but it feels like the stain of their sins painting his soul.

Maybe suffering can give even a man of the Goddess the sentiment of a poet. His lip curls in disgust at the very thought.

Please, please speak to me, Dromada. Tell your priest what he must do to escape this nightmare.

She is, and has always been, silent to his pleas for Her assistance. 

The Goddess the people worship may be a paragon of compassion and forgiveness, her sculptures solemn and grave with hands outstretched to embrace even the lowest-born of Her children, but Grigori is beginning to suspect the holy men have got it wrong. 

She isn't gracefully wise. She does not reach Her hand out to hold Her children. No, as each day passes without Her so much as whispering a reassurance, he begins to feel She is th goddess of laughter, and he is Her current favorite joke.

A knock at the door to his room - his cell, really, but of course they all like to pride themselves on keeping him in high style in his gilded cage - has him looking up, a little startled. The moon has only made half of its trek across the night sky, through the looping swirls of galaxies far, far beyond the reach of mere mortal men. That milky spin of stars, everyone knows, is where the gods live.

He wonders how many of them are looking down on him, sipping crystalline waters, and mocking his pain.

He would spit on every last temple step, if he could.

If he could just leave the fucking room-

“Brother Grigori,” His guest singsongs, half-dancing into the room. Grigory turns away from him, laying one palm over one of the iron bars that blocks any escape through the window. His fingers close slowly around it. 

“What do you want.” His voice is curt, it cuts short and sharp. “Bastard.”

“Oh, see you got my name all wrong again.” The leader of this little gang is tall - too tall - and all knees and legs, lean muscle making him heavier than he looks. Grigori is tall enough for a man, but he seems like he’s half-grown, compared to the bandit. The man’s hair is a shock of white atop his head, shaved on the sides, while Grigori’s curly brown grows to the bottom of his ears, as is prescribed for the priests. He swaths himself in black kohl around his equally dark eyes and shining black leather worn back to brown from age and ill-use at the knees and elbows. Grigori’s hazel and his dirtied robes look like a joke, placed next to the bandit’s appearance.  “It’s Bohli, remember? Or that’s what my mother calls me, anyway. Or she would, if she were still alive. She probably uses that when she curses my name from the heavens above, granted. I mean, probably, unless she really is suffering in the Dark After, like she deserves-”

“What do you want, Bohli?” Grigory’s head is already starting to hurt. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Nonsense. You have all the time in the world. You have nothing but time.”

“Not for… you. Please leave.”

“Nope. Not going anywhere. This is my house, remember? I just let you stay here.”

“Let me.” The words are sour in Grigori’s mouth. “Right, of course. Let me. Because I asked to be branded and trapped here in this room-”

“Hush. I take you for walkies every day, little god’s dog.” Bohli winks, and Grigori - who took a vow of pacifism, once - imagines stabbing his own knife through his eyeball until it comes out the other side of his head. “If you don’t want a leash, you just have to prove you won’t run off.”

He would, of course. Run. Outside, the woods stretch far and wide. There’s a path he could take to find a village, to find freedom...

Or… more realistically… to get arrested for being in league with Bohli and his bastards, which he isn’t, but everyone knows the goddess would save Her most faithful, and he’s been here too long. He would be branded a heretic. Everyone knows he’s a heretic. His own fellow priests would turn their backs on him. The people would burn him at the stake, for being defiled, degraded, a paragon of nothing but the filth they have covered him in. Little more than a bandit himself. 

Maybe he is one.

Dromada would have saved him if he were truly Hers to save. And instead, here he is, the infamous giver of absolution to the men and women who massacre whole towns in defiance of - in direct insult to - the power and might of His Majesty, the King.

No. he would be burned as an enemy of the King's, and he would have no standing to defend himself. A captive this long isn't a captive at all, in the eyes of the world.

Just a man who no longer wants to be saved.

Tears prick at his eyes, and he struggles not to let Bohli see them and mock him even more. It’s not like he hasn’t already been marked. It was one of the first things they did. Bohli had given the order and watched while they tied him down. Grigori himself had been made to look as they put the iron in the fire, made to watch them heat it to red. Bohli had been whispering in his ear when when they pressed it to his pelvis, and Bohli had cooed over him while he screamed, stroking through his sweaty hair.

“Just leave,” He whispers, the area aching all over again. They branded him over the symbol of Dromada tattooed, a mark of his vow of chastity.

Another one broken.

Maybe that was when She stopped listening.

“Oh, but I can’t, darling Grigori. I’ve come to make a confession.” Bohli laughs, and his laughter could make you bleed even better than his blade. But somehow Grigori can’t seem to die from the loss. “Isn’t that why I keep a priest of Dromada around, anyway? For to save my poor mortal soul?”

Grigori fights the urge to wish aloud someone would poison the asshole’s food. “You would burn if you touched the Hem of her robe.”

“Maybe.” Bohli shrugs, kicking a chair over and dropping down into it, loose-limbed. His eyes spark with delight as he takes in Grigori’s misery. “But you wear Her robes, and yet I never burn when I touch you-”

“Speak your confession,” Grigory snaps, his heart twisting and going briefly silent and still in his chest. He feels blood rush to his face, and Bohli’s peal of bright, brittle laughter tells him the flush isn’t going unnoticed. 

“Say it.” Bohli watches him, and it’s like being watched by one of the terrifying big cats that roam the woods just beyond this hideous prison. Unblinking, a predator’s stare. “Say the words, priest.”

Each time he does, they feel more bitter on his tongue. 

But still.

Grigori draws the ruins of his robe closer around himself, and sits up straight. He swallows and sets his jaw. “Bohlinde hir Maksma en Ygridsen, the goddess Dromada hears and forgives all from those who love Her. You have only to ask. Speak, child, and be forgiven.”

Bohli licks his lips, leaning forwards. Somehow, Grigori can’t make himself look away. The bandit leader’s teeth are sharp - those canines can rend skin from bone. He’s part-elf, they say, somewhere in his bloodline the half-mindless shrieking hordes of the elven race lurk. You can always tell, so it’s said, from the sharpness of their teeth. From how little they care for the lives of men.

Maybe he’s half-elf.

It would explain why he’s so fucking smug.

“Forgive me, Dromada’s Chosen, for I have sinned against Her,” Bohli says, and he doesn’t even try to feign sincerity. Why he even plays this game, when Dromada isn’t a goddess for the elves of their wretched offspring to begin with, is beyond Grigori’s understanding.

Grigori fights the urge to sigh. He makes Dromada’s Sign, wondering if it even calls to Her any longer. If She even feels the spark of a follower’s call, or if he’s cut off from Her entirely. Who hears him when he prays?

Does anyone?

“How have you sinned against Our Mother, She Who Gave the Waters?” 

Bohli licks his lips. His smile is a little too wide, shows too many of those sharp, sharp teeth. He'd be blisteringly handsome, if it weren’t for the sight of fangs where none should be. “I won’t lie, Brother Grigori. I set some stuff on fire yesterday. And I’m going to do it again. Will I be forgiven?”

Grigori imagines the mud climbing higher and higher up his robes, pulling him into the earth, forcing itself down his mouth and pressing over his eyes. He imagines the gods in the sky, looking down from their stars.

The image shatters with the memory of first sitting at the table with the dozen or so of Bohli's favorites, each of them smiling at him, while he sat in his pure white robes and felt himself bared, as if naked, before them.

Until Bohli had given the order for what to do with him.

“Dromada forgives all who seek Her,” Grigori intones, thoughtless. The words memorized before he was even thirteen years old, before he was old enough to take his vows. Before he was taken, and they were all broken, one by one. Bohli loved breaking Grigori's vows. “You have only to ask.”

“Good.” Bohli’s voice drops low. He has to focus to hear it, which is probably the bastard’s entire point. “Because I really, really love asking, and I love the sound of your answers.”

The bandit stands, walking over to him, putting one finger under his chin and forcing Grigori to look up - and up, and up, and up - to see the demon smile.

Grigori is sure, as Bohli watches him with his head tipped to the side and his black eyes as bright as the stars, that he can hear the goddess laughing.

[sukunastits]

Weaponized Incompetence

Weaponized Incompetence 2/?

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Reader

Warnings: none? other than my near endless supply of stupid shit that can be said to make men think you’re stupid. Sfw

Part 1

You were entirely blameless for the next incident. Truly, you had been minding your business, avoiding responsibilities like any good non-commissioned officer. Secluded in one of the far off storage rooms on the west side of the complex, counting boxes of paper towels - far enough out of the way that Sgt. MacTavish had to have come looking for you, specifically. Adorable man, you thought giddily, watching him situate himself in the metal fold out chair next to you. 

He wasn’t a tall man, maybe the shorter end of average, but you figured he made up for it by being the general size of a wide-load tractor trailer. Which was to say, when he slid the chair - legs scraping against the concrete ground - closer to you, he invaded like the tide. “Listen, lass,” he started, like you couldn’t smell his cologne over the stale, dusty air. Tobacco and vanilla, maybe. A little slutty, combined with the eyes and the facial hair and the accent. 

Maybe you were just projecting. 

“Ah get that you come from tae city,” he continued, phone in one hand while he braced the other one on the back of your chair. A part of you wondered if you should be worried; cornered in a far off room by a commanding officer wasn't the best start to happily ever after, but whatever. You were here to drive him up a metaphorical wall, not a white picket fence. “And ye probably never had tae deal with farm animals, but ye can’t go ‘roond spoutin’ nonsense like the other day.” 

Was he still on that? You had hit him with that well before the weekend, and he hadn’t wasted time with cornering you. It was Monday. God, you thought, I am blessed to live rent free in the Scottish Highlands. 

He wiggled the phone entreatingly. 

Staring back from the screen was Google, “are eggs dairy” typed into the search bar. Pressing your lips together, you slanted a sideways glance at him. He looked back, expectant. 

The nice thing would be to let him win this, you knew. A little tee hee, so sorry sergeant, let it die down before you hit him with some other out of pocket shit. But you hadn’t gotten this far in life by letting men win, even pretty ones. 

Especially the pretty ones. 

“Ohh,” you breathed, nodding to yourself like you’d had a world breaking - egg cracking, even - revelation. Sgt. MacTavish smiled, broad shoulders relaxing as he leant back, dipping back out of your personal space. “I get it now.”

“An easy mistake,” he placated. You both knew it wasn’t. 

“No, yeah. You still think birds are real.”

An atom bombed dropped slower than his smile did; there one moment, gone the next. Total annihilation. You would have to play this one carefully. Not laughing hysterically would be a herculean effort, but so worth it. 

“What tae fu -”

“No let me explain,” you cut in, flapping your hand at the wrist. It annoyed men, for some reason, a floppy wrist. Like a weak handshake, it triggered their little neanderthal brain. “I get that it sounds weird out of context. But like, okay. So in the, like, 1970s, in America? They had this President, right, Ronald Reagan?” Wrong. “And he, like, hated birds. So he formed the CIA,” made even funnier by the Task Force tangentially being CIA controlled, “And had them capture and kill all the wild birds, right? Except obviously people would have noticed if all the birds just disappeared, so he had them replaced with robots.” 

You stared at him for a moment, waiting to see if he was keeping up. He stared back, lips pressed together and nostrils flared. “Or androids? I don’t really know. Are they different? I think they’re synonymous. Anyways, he had robot birds made so that he could spy on the American people during the Cold War. And, like. He couldn’t do it with domesticated food birds, so he had them sterilized. And cows evolved to make eggs because birds couldn’t.” 

You nodded, and smiled, empty. Vacant. Not a thought in this head. “So I guess you used to be right,” you finished, patting his arm like it was a consolation. 

MacTavish opened his mouth, closed it. Let out a breath through his nose like an angry bull. For a moment, you wondered if this was it. Was this really all it took? The Birds Aren’t Real Conspiracy? You had so many more. GMOs. Bananas. You could be a very convincing Flat Earther. Buffalos. God, you loved the buffalo bit. 

“Who,” he stopped. Started again. “Who told ye that?” 

“My Governments teacher,” you answered immediately. “Mr. Schumacher. I loved his class, he taught us soo much.” 

“He lied.” MacTavished butted in, voice low. You bet he sounded like a blender in the morning, all gravely bass. You wanted to coo at him, at how cute he was, all ruffled. Instead, you did your best sure, Jan and shrugged. 

“I mean, I think a teacher would know better than the internet, but if you say so, sergeant,” you agreed placidly.

Stressed, he rubbed a hand over his mohawk. And then, phone still in hand, he pointed at you, and left. 

You watched him go, agreeable with the way his jeans sat on his ass. You wondered if he ever wore those bedazzled Buckle jeans. You wondered if you could ever get him into a pair either way. The door slammed behind him, shaking a layer of dust off the ceiling tiles. After a moment, when you were sure he wouldn’t be coming back, you tossed your package of paper towels into the nearest box. 

You needed a new hiding spot. 

[disasterofastory]

The maid of Mr. Barnes - Part 16 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

The maid of Mr. Barnes Part 16 - End of the summer // Masterlist Bucky Barnes x Reader Mafia AU Warnings: none  

Summary: Bucky has to take care of Hydra. Once and for all.

You are in the garden, kneeling on the ground not far from the grandiose white building. Your skin is warm from the sun, and your hands are dirty with the wet soil. The comforting earthy scent fills your senses as you busy yourself with the flowers. It hangs heavily in the air. You can see the approaching autumn on the plants. They are more delicate than a few weeks before, and their colors are not as vivid anymore. Fallen petals cover the ground.

"Bucky wants to talk to you." Sam's voice breaks the calm silence. His tall form casts a shadow over you. His black leather shoes shine under the sun's bright lights. "Thank you," you tell him, standing up and wiping off your hands with a rag from your pocket. The knee parts of your pants are dark with dirt. "We should have hired you as a gardener," he jokes, looking down at the flowerbed. "I just take advantage of the good weather while I can," you explain, smiling. "I go and see Bucky now," you add. "Do you need me to do something after?" "No, Bunny," he says. "You can come back to your garden."

You are not phased because of the nickname anymore. You are sure most men around the house don't even know your real name.

Bucky is in his office when you find him. "Do you want to talk to me?" You ask, closing the door behind you. "Yes," he replies, pushing himself away from the desk and motioning you to come closer. As he spreads his legs, the black fabric stretches on his thighs. You can see his dark red socks. It matches the tie around his collar. "Come here, Bunny." "I was in the garden," you tell him. "I'm dirty." "I don't care," he says, grabbing your hand when you get close enough. The man pulls you on his thigh, your legs are between his, and your side is against his muscular front. "You smell good," he sighs, sniffing your neck until you laugh. You can feel his smile on your skin as he kisses you up and down on your skin. "So," you gather yourself, turning to him a bit better with one of your arms around his neck. "What do you want to talk about?" "I have to be away for a few days," he says, starting to caress your back when he sees your smile fading away. "For how long? And why?" "I don't know it yet," Bucky replies. "And I have to take care of Hydra. Once and for all." "It sounds dangerous," you frown. "It will be fine," he says. "I have to do this, Bunny. I can't let what they did to Winter slide." "I know," you sigh. "And I won't stop you." "And how would you stop me?" He smirks, pulling you closer. An amused smirk plays on his lips, and his eyes seem bright and happy. The bruise on his skin is barely visible now. "I would find a way," you shrug. "I bet," he hums, kissing up on the line of your jaw until he reaches your ear. His teeth sink into your earlobe. "Okay," you jump up. You can feel yourself getting excited even from the smallest of Bucky's touches. He doesn't play fair, and he knows it. He just doesn't care. "I have to go." "You have to, now?" He smirks, letting you go anyway. There is a mischievous glint in his eyes as he watches you backing away to the door. "Yes," you breathe out. "One of us has work to do," you add, smirking and stepping out of the door with a last glance over your shoulder. "Oh, Y/N," he calls after you before you can close the door behind you. His voice is serious again, and you turn back to look at him. "Yes?" "Leila and the other girls will be here while we are away," he says. "And I will have a few of my men watching over you." You can't help but frown at it. "It really sounds dangerous." "We just want to make sure you are protected," he replies. The idea was Winter's. He wants his girl safe and protected, and the others agree. There is no way any of them would let you girls be alone while they are away taking care of Hydra. They can protect you better if you are all in one place. "Okay," you nod. "Anything else?" Bucky wants to say something. Something important, but he keeps his mouth shut, afraid you would think it's too early for that word. It can wait. "You can hop away, my Bunny."

A few days pass by, and you feel worse and worse with every day. You can only guess what taking care of Hydra means, and you don't like it. The thought of the girls being here while the men are away doesn't sound so bad. At least you won't drive yourself crazy with worry.

Bucky sees the worry on you even though you try to hide it. "Bunny," he says when you are in his bed again. He grabs your arm to pull you to his side. Your head is on his bare chest. Your fingers draw one of his tattoo's lines again and again. His arms are around you, squeezing you until you melt against him. "You don't have to worry," he speaks up after some silence. "We have to do this." "I know," you reply. "I understand, but I still worry." "You know what? When I come home, we will go away for a vacation," he says. "We will spend some time on my private island. How does that sound?" "On your what?" You ask, raising your head to look at him. "I have a small island," he says with a smug smirk. "We will buy you a bunch of bikinis for the beach, hm? Just you and I on the whole island." The thought of you and Bucky on an island sounds amazing right now. "Or you can be naked," he teases. "I wouldn't mind it." "I bet you wouldn't," you laugh, hiding your face in the curve of his neck.

You are at the marble porch with Bucky. His car rumbles in the background, and your stomach is in a tight knot. Most of his men are already gone, and you are waiting for Sam and the others to arrive with their girlfriends. "You will be safe," he says, cupping your cheeks to give you another kiss. "I have my men all around the house." "I know," you hum against his lips. "It's you who I worry about." "You don't have to," he says, smiling. "I will be fine, and I will come home as fast as I can." "I know," you sigh, pressing yourself closer to his body. "Come back to me, okay?" "I will, Bunny," he promises. Your attention from his steel-blue eyes turns to the gate in the distance. Bucky's arms are still around, keeping you close and secure, and you dread the moment he has to let you go. "They are here."

[littlespacereader]

Could I request a fic with Caregiver!Layla (Scarlet Scarab) with little reader???

Of course I can!!! As a HUGE Moon Knight fan I can’t begin to tell you how excited I was to write this! I hope you don’t mind that I had Marc/Steven pop in for a little cameo:) I couldn’t resist! If you want another Moon Knight fic feel free to send a request in!! Anyway I hope you enjoy this fic!!

The Goddess of Caregiving (SFW)

Caregiver!Layla El-Faouly & GN Little!Reader

Tags: mentions violence and knifes (not detailed), hurt and comfort, stuffie, taking care of injuries, thumb sucking, story time, low-key Marc and Steven cgs

Nicknames: Sweet one, little one, sweetheart and darling

Yelling. It was everywhere. People yelling and running away. The city was under attack by some wear guy with a light up cane! He and his goons were attacking the city and its people.

I just started running. Running as fast as my feet could take me away from the scene. Apparently there was a guy in all white fighting them but I didn’t get a good glance.

I was just watching cartoons on the tv with my stuffed animal bunny when I heard all the commotion outside. People started screaming to runway as a group of criminal started to hurt those around.

So Fluffy and I started running. There were a couple of people around me running as well. Where we were running to, no one knows. Just away from whatever is happening. My little side just wanted to stop and cry but I couldn’t, not just yet, I had to get to safety first.

But the group of bad guys caught up to us. Most of the people took a left and ran down the alleyway. I took a right and ran down the road. Little did I know this road was a dead end alley.

I ran as far as I could, falling once onto my knees but quickly recovering and running again. But suddenly I came across a wall infront of me. My heart was beating out of my chest. There was no where to run now. I clutched Fluffy to my chest and turned around.

Two tall men stood in front of me, both holding knives in their hands.

“Awwwww! Look what we got here, a Regressor.” One said.

“Took a wrong turn little one?” The other mocked.

Tears started to roll down my face as I started to cry. As they approached I just started to back up until my back was against the wall. I curled in on myself, dropping to the ground and brining my knees to my chest to covering my face.

Suddenly I heard fighting. I jumped thinking they were about to hurt me but then I heard them yelling and gasping in pain. Then two thuds! The two fall to the ground unconscious.

“Are you hurt little one?” A feminine voice asked me.

I was shaking. Maybe this was a trick! Maybe she worked with them?!

“It’s okay sweet one. Those bad men are not going to hurt you anymore. I made sure of it. Take your time, but when you untangle yourself I want to check and make sure you didn’t get hurt.”

Maybe this wasn’t a trick. She seemed nice and she said she took care of those scary men. So with all the bravery I could muster, I decided to look up.

With teary eyes I looked at the woman who was talking to me. She was heavenly. She truly looked like angel sent to protect. She wore a white and gold outfit with golden wings at her sides. She looked sweet, looking at me with caring eyes.

“There you are. Hello darling. What’s your name?” She was kneeling next to me, close enough to reach out and hold my hand but distant enough to give me space just in case.

“I’m…I’m Y/N.” I said with a shaken voice.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Layla.” She smiled. “Who’s your little friend there?” She pointed to my stuffie.

“Fluffy. Fluffy the rabbit.” I lifted Fluffy to see her.

“What a cute rabbit! It’s nice to meet you as well Fluffy.”

“Are….are you a goddess?” I asked unsure if she was even real.

She smiled and nodded. “I’m the avatar of the goddess Taweret, but I’m still getting used to it.” She said gesturing to her outfit.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry these terrible men scared you. Are you alone or did you get parted from your Caregiver?” She asked looking around.

“I’m by myself with Fluffy. I heard the bad men and I started to run.” I explained.

“That was very brave of you. But it isn’t safe for you to be alone tonight. Plus you need someone to take care of your injuries.” She looked worried as she started to figured out what to do.

“Injuries?”

I got hurt? I looked down at myself and saw it. My fall caused my knees to get scraped. Now my knees were bleeding down my legs. It was as if my adrenaline had hid the pain until I saw it with my own eyes.

I let out a sob I didn’t know I was holding. I started to cry, holding Fluffy as tight as I possibly could to myself.

“It’s okay darling, it’s just a little scrape. Nothing we can’t fix.” Layla placed a gentle hand on my back and started to rub comfortingly.

“Here, come over to me darling,” she held her arms out to me, silently offering to hold me.

She didn’t have to say much. Between the painful scrapes on my knees and how little I’m feeling, all I wanted was comfort. So when she opened her arms I immediately took the opportunity to get some comfort.

She brought me close and picked me up off the ground, careful of my knees. She held me on her hip, one arm supporting my bottom and the other holding onto my back. I leaned forward and started to cry on her shoulder.

She continued to rub my back and bounce my on her hip. “It’s okay sweetheart. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Layla was just so comforting. Crying a bit in her arms felt like such a relief. After everything that happened today I needed to just let go and be upset. After a while my tears has stopped and I was more exhausted than anything else. Finally my adrenaline went down and I felt safe enough to be tired.

“Alright sweetheart we need to get you taken care of,” Layla started to say.

“Layla!” A voice said down the alley way.

I frozen in Layla’s arms and buried my head in her shoulder. I started to shake in fear.

She looked at me and tried to comfort me, “It’s alright. He’s a friend of ours. He’s a good man.”

I didn’t look up but I heard the man run over to the two of us. “Harrow is taken care of. The city should be safe now.” There was a pause, probably when the guy realized I was in Layla’s arms. Then suddenly guy’s voice changed to a British accent out of no where, “Who’s this little one?”

“Steven, this is Y/N and the rabbit is Fluffy. They were fighting these two bad guys over here when I arrived. Didn’t even have to lift a finger to help.” Layla said, trying to lift the little one’s spirits with her story.

“Wow Y/N! That was very brave of you! You should be very proud of yourself!” The man added.

With all the compliments and praise I started to come out of my shell a bit. I lifted my head and looked at the man. He was wearing a white suit and had curly black hair. His face lit up the moment we caught eyes.

“Thank you,” I said to his compliment.

“You are so welcome darling. Oh my gosh you are just the cutest. Are you out here all by yourself?” He asked and I nodded. “We gotta get you checked out.”

I held onto Layla tighter hearing that. But Layla was already two steps ahead of Steven, having already figured out a plan for me.

“I’m going to take Y/N back to the apartment.” She explained to Steven.

Then she looks at me. “It’s not too far from here. I don’t want you going to a clinic or hospital alone with how regressed you are. But we need to take care of your injuries. So if you want we can go to my apartment and I can bandage you up. Sound good?” She asked me.

I looked at Layla and nodded. I didn’t want to be away from her for a second. She felt so safe. Plus she was going to take care of me!

“I know Marc is going to want to do one last sweep of the area to make sure we haven’t missed anything.” Steven added. He looked back at me and Fluffy, patting our heads. “I’ll see you three laters gators.”

And then he was off. Leaving it back to just Layla and myself.

“Alright, now I haven’t flown with someone in my arms before so it might be a rocky flight. You just hold on tightly to me okay?”

Wait we’re flying to her apartment?! Before I had a chance to question it we took off in the air and were soaring! I wrapped my arms around Layla’s neck and held on tightly. It was such a sight to see the city from that high up! Wow!!

We landed down in front of this small apartment door. Layla unlocked the door and we entered the apartment. It was such a cute apartment! It was spacious and cozy.

A fire place sat in the middle of the living room with a comfy looking couch infront of it. Next to the couch looked like the entrance to a terrace. Right off to the left of the front door was the kitchen and to the right looked like a hallway to the bedrooms. All over her walls and shelves were artifacts of different kinds and books with pages bookmarked.

She walked into the kitchen with me and sat me down on the countertop. I immediately started to whine. I’m happier in her arms!

My whine must’ve told her everything I was thinking because she just turned around and smiled. “I’ll happily hold you again sweetheart but first we gotta get your knees takes care of.”

With that she started searching her kitchen cabinets for the first aid kit. “It’s around here somewhere….ah! There it is!” She pulled it out from under the kitchen sink.

She set it beside me and started pulling out the supplies she needed. “You know, I’ve had to use this kit on Marc on numerous occasion.”

“Who’s Marc?” I asked curious. The only other person I knew besides her was Steven. But Steven mentioned a Marc also…

“Oh, ummm, I meant to say Steven. But you’ll come to find they’re one and the same.” She winked.

“Okay, first I’m going to wash your cuts with hydrogen peroxide. Then we’re going to clean it up, and put a nice colorful bandaid on it.” She said carefully explains everything to me. I nodded my head, holding onto Fluffy tightly.

With that she started to wash one of my knees with the hydrogen peroxide. But it hurt!!

“Ahhh!! It burns! It hurts!!” I started to cry and hold my knee away from the burning solution.

“I promise it’s just a little burn and then it’s okay. It helps get all the germs out of your cuts.” She tried to explain but my little mind just recognized the pain along with it.

“Nooo!!” I held my knee away from her and the terrible peroxide! Tears started to roll down my cheeks again.

Layla stood back and started to think of a good solution to this problem. She looked over at her bookshelves and an idea popped into her head.

“Y/N, have you read this book?” She walked over and grabbed a book on Egyptian gods and goddess of the shelf.

“No.” I said, looking over at her as she brought the book over. She handed it to me to look through. Once it was in my hands she wiped a few tears away off my cheek.

“There you are. It’s okay. Why don’t you take a look at the different pages.”

I looked at her, then the book, and started flipping pages. I wanted to find the goddess she was the avatar of. She was talking about that earlier. Finally I found the right page.

“Taweret!!” I turned the book and showed her happily.

“Well done darling! You’re right! That’s the goddess I’m the avatar of.” She smiled.

“Can you talk to her?” I asked.

“Yeah, she sort of talks to me inside my head and I can answer her back.”

“Wow!” I looked at her amazed. “What is she saying?”

Layla smiled at my wonder. “She absolutely adores you. She’s been screaming about how cute you are since I first spotted you.”

“Really?!” I couldn’t help but smiled and giggle.

“Oh yeah. She has not stopped talking about you. I can’t blame her.” She reached up and pinched my cheeks playfully. I giggled again before pulling away.

I flipped through the book some more before stumbling across another god. This one looked scary though…

“Who’s Khonshu?” I asked turning the book around to Layla.

“That’s the god of the Moon.” She began to explain. “Steven is his avatar.”

“Oh.” It all started to make sense…I guess. “Are you superhero and sidekick?” I asked.

She laughed, “Yes he’s my sidekick.” She joked to herself.

“Alright! Your knees are all taken care of. Would you like a green, tan or purple bandaid for your knees?”

Wait what?!

I closed the book and looked down at my knees. There was no more blood. Just a mild scrape. While I was reading the book she must’ve cleaned my knees up. I looked up at her in amazement. I didn’t feel any pain or really anything! She just smiled back at me.

“That’s not a goddess power, that’s a Caregiver’s power.” She winked. “Which bandaid color would you like?”

I picked out a bandaid and she put it on my knees. “Now all we need is a little kiss to make it better.” She leaned forward and kissed each knee. “There! All better!”

I looked down at my knees and smiled up at her. “Thank you!!”

“You’re so welcome.” She lifted me back into her arms and walked into the living room.

“Now I sadly am not prepared for a Little like yourself so I don’t have much in the way of toys. But I do have a couple of book I think you’d be interested in.” She grabbed a couple of book and put them on the coffee table.

Then she took a seat on the couch with me sitting in her lap. She reach forward and grabbed a book. I curled into her side, resting my head on her shoulder, thumb in my mouth and my eyes scanning the pages as Layla began to read.

~~~

“Layla?” Marc said stepping into the apartment sometime later.

He was greeted by shushing. “Over here,” Layla whispered.

Marc made his way into the living room and found an adorable sight. The Little he had seen earlier was sound asleep wrapping tightly in Layla’s arms. Their head rested on her shoulder, their thumb was in their mouth and their stuffed animal was in their lap.

“I guess we have a new member of the family.” Marc smirked.

Layla smiled as well. She leaned forward and placed a kiss to Y/N’s head. “You guessed right.”

[smilesrobotlover]

Whumptober day 17- collar, touch aversion, leave me alone

Smiles using all three in the prompt? Rare! Anyways I… I don’t even know how to describe this one BDMSBSKSBMS . SO REMEMBEE THAT DREAM I HAD ABOUT YUGA AND LINEBECK YES I TURNED IT INTO A PROMPT I NEEDED IDEASDBSKSBKSBSAKABK. I need y’all to bear with me here cuz this is nothing but pure chaos. Basically Linebeck meets the villain squad. There’s yuga, Ghirahim, Vaati, zant, Astor, Kogha, and Linebeck in this fic and… it’s crazy. Genuinely can’t tell if it’s actually cringey or if I’m just mean to myself 💀💀💀 so uh, yeah, it’s a long one and ends weirdly but whatevs

Warnings: kidnapping, possessive attitude, nonconsensual touching (it’s nothing serious Ghirahim and Yuga are just a little creepy) and yeah

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

It had been a normal day for Linebeck. He woke up, pissed off Leon, pissed off everyone else, and took a walk through the woods while they all calmed down. He kept close to camp so that if something happened, Linebeck would be close enough to them. But apparently it didn’t matter, because in the end, he was grabbed and pulled into a portal, held against his will by some… colorful characters.

Linebeck paced his cage when they left him alone, occasionally leaning up against the bars hopelessly. There was no way he was getting out of this, and there was no way that the others would even know where to find him. The people holding him hostage were weird, but they were scary. Having sharp teeth, powerful magic, and all were freakishly tall (except for two). One was a creature that he’d never seen before, having round yellow eyes, fair blue skin, and markings along his nose. Linebeck was a coward at heart, and these people did not want to make him feel brave.

Linebeck tugged at the collar that they put on him. It was to “block his ability to use magic”, but it was nothing more than a nuisance to Linebeck since he didn’t have any magic. It rubbed painfully against his neck and it occasionally felt like he was being choked. Linebeck groaned and fiddled with the collar more until the men who abducted him barged into the room, arguing about something.

“How could you screw up that bad?” A taller man with white hair that covered one eye yelled. “Open a portal to the castle, that's all you had to do!”

“Portals are a finicky magic! Only a powerful magician can safely open up a portal without any issues!” A smaller purple man who also had hair covering one eye yelled back.

“Oh! Well it seems like you’re not a very powerful magician then, Vaati!”

“Shut up Ghirahim! You know nothing about magic!”

“Can you two stop it with the yelling.” A pale man with a hood over his eyes came in, holding a strange contraption in his hand. “My head hurts.”

“Well Vaati screwed up my plan!” The one Linebeck assumed was Ghirahim practically screamed. The taller creature with the beady yellow eyes came by.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t come to me for help, I open up portals all the time!”

“You were gone with Yuga, Zant! And I needed this mission done now!”

“What is Loria’s name were you trying to do?” A tall man with thick, curly red hair leaned against the bars, and a little too close to Linebeck for comfort.

“I needed Vaati to open up a portal so we could kidnap the King! He was left unsupervised and it would’ve been a perfect opportunity! Just… who even is that?” Ghirahim pointed at Linebeck, which caused the others to look at him. Linebeck stood up straight and backed away from the bars, but Ghirahim got closer. “Who are you?”

Linebeck chuckled nervously and pressed his back against the back wall of his cage, as far away from them as possible. Ghirahim scoffed and snapped his fingers, vanishing in a cloud of diamonds. Linebeck yelped when he suddenly appeared inches from his face. He grabbed his shirt and pinned him against the wall, looking down at him with murder in his eyes. Linebeck felt like he was gonna pass out right then and there, but he swallowed his nerves down and tried to glare back at him.

“I said, who are you?” Ghirahim repeated, fury in his voice.

“A—uh— I—I’m uh…” Linebeck stuttered, unable to say his own name. Ghirahim groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Well he’s completely useless to us,” Ghirahim snapped his fingers and a dagger appeared in his hand. “Might as well get rid of him.”

“W-wait! Wait!” Linebeck tried to stop him, but sudden movement at his side caused him to scream and jerk away from it. Yuga appeared and held Ghirahim’s hand that had the dagger in it.

“Let’s not be too hasty, there’s no reason to kill him.”

Ghirahim rolled his eyes at him. “Let me guess, he’s too beautiful to die?”

“Yes!” Yuga dragged Linebeck away from Ghirahim, and he found himself pressed up against Yuga’s chest. “I mean look at him, beauty like this must be preserved.” His hand gently stroked against Linebeck’s cheek which made him physically recoil.

“Don’t touch me!” Linebeck swatted his hand at Yuga, but it was grabbed effortlessly by the large man.

“So feisty too, I’d like to keep him for my collection.”

“Yuga no. You let that one doctor live, and look where that got us!”

“Oh come on! I won’t let him walk around freely,” Yuga’s fingers dug possessively into Linebeck’s shoulder causing him to squirm. “I’ll just turn him into a painting and keep him in my hall, that’s all!”

Linebeck’s heart stopped. “Wh— turn me into a painting?”

“Well of course. Only the most beautiful and powerful ones are hung up on my wall. You should consider yourself lucky,” Yuga got close to his face and Linebeck leaned back.

“Kinda hard to consider myself lucky when I’ll have to look at your ugly face for the rest of my life!”

Yuga gasped and the others snorted in response.

“Oh I think I like him actually,” the hooded man said with a chuckle.

“Oh you— shut up, Astor!” Yuga yelled, his grip on Linebeck tightening in rage. “That was a petty insult, it sure does dampen your natural beauty.”

“Yeah well at least I have natural beauty unlike you, who needs all that crap all over your face just to be bearable to look at!”

Yuga gasped more loudly and he let go of Linebeck. Ghirahim started laughing like a maniac and he grabbed onto Linebeck.

“I have to agree with Astor, I think I like him as well.”

Linebeck squirmed in his hold, trying to get away. “Yeah well the feeling’s not mutual. Get off of me!”

Ghirahim’s grip tightened around him, and Linebeck groaned. He couldn’t move.

“Well we don’t need him alive so just kill him now Ghirahim,” Yuga grumbled, suddenly turning into a painting and slipping through the bars. Linebeck watched in awe as he popped out of the wall, returning to his true self. Yuga smirked at his reaction. “Still think that I’m nothing to look at?”

“Tch, you still look like a moblin’s rear end to me.”

Yuga glared daggers into Linebeck while the others laughed hysterically.

“Oh I definitely like you,” Ghirahim wheezed, patting him on the shoulder. “Sorry Yuga but I don’t want to kill him anymore, he… amuses me.”

Yuga grumbled as Ghirahim finally let go of Linebeck and left the cell.

“Uh… w-what are you guys going to do to me?” He couldn’t help but ask even though he knew that any answer would be a bad answer.

“Don’t know yet, you weren’t our original target,” Ghirahim answered, looking upset again. Vaati leaned against the bars next to Linebeck.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over the specifics of your fate, we’ll take care of that for you,” he said.

“Yeah that’s kind of why this pretty little head of mine is worrying,” Linebeck rebutted. “Can you at least take off this collar? I don’t have any magic so it’s completely useless.”

“We’re not taking any chances with you,” Astor said in a low voice.

“Besides, if you ever escape, then people will know that you belong to us,” Vaati said with a grin.

Linebeck gulped and the group left the room, leaving him alone once again. He let out a big sigh and sunk to the floor, hoping that they wouldn’t return any time soon. Though he wanted to escape, the memory of Ghirahim and Yuga holding onto him so strongly made his skin crawl. Even if he could escape, he was not strong enough to fight against them. Ghirahim’s teleportation, Yuga’s weird painting magic, he didn’t even want to think about what the others were able to do. Not to mention, they all seemed so… sadistic. And that was what scared Linebeck the most.

Linebeck rested his head against hands, suddenly feeling very exhausted. He prayed that by some miracle, the others would find him. He just didn’t know how.

~~~~~~~~~

Linebeck jolted awake at the sound of crashing and yelling. He looked over at the door beyond his cage, his heart beating a mile a minute. The yelling continued, sounding like it was getting louder. Linebeck stood up and backed up in a corner, watching the door with dread.

“Just get what they stole from me, alright?” He heard someone shout from the other side. “We’ll be in and out before they even know we’re here!”

“Sure thing.”

There was inaudible grumbling and shifting around, with one proud cheer after a while of shuffling. Eventually the noises were right outside the door, and Linebeck held his breath. A regular looking Hylian in a red jumpsuit peaked his head into the room, and he locked eyes with Linebeck.

“Uh, Kogha?” The Hylian yelled out.

“What?” A gruff sounding man yelled back.

“There’s a guy here.”

“Huh? What?”

Another Hylian poked his head through, and then a tall, heavy man with a weird eye mask appeared. Linebeck pressed himself further into the corner, glaring at the three.

“Listen, unless you’re here to break me out, leave me alone!” He shouted with as much strength as he could.

The men all glanced at each others confused.

“Are you a hostage?” The first Hylian asked.

“I’m in a cage, of course I’m a hostage!”

The tallest one who Linebeck assumed was Kogha entered the room arrogantly.

“Well it’s your lucky day, sir. We’re gonna break you out.”

Linebeck raised an eyebrow. “And why should I trust you?”

Kogha leaned against the bars, gesturing to the whole room. “You know the guys that I assumed abducted you?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Yes, well, we don’t get along. One of them tried to sacrifice me to his malice god. Can you believe that? Sacrifice me?”

“I don’t care.”

“Yeah well, the yiga clan don’t take kindly to sacrificing me. So anytime we can piss them off or inconvenience them, I’ll take it.”

Linebeck narrowed his eyes. “Yiga clan? You wouldn’t happen to be connected to that Yuga guy would you?”

Kogha scoffed. “Just because our names are similar doesn’t mean that we’re connected.”

Linebeck narrowed his eyes even more, and Kogha shrugged.

“Oh whatever, boys, come tear down this door for me.”

Linebeck gasped as the two Hylians grabbed the cage door and pried it open with their weapons. Kogha gestured for Linebeck to join them.

“C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Linebeck looked down. “I don’t think you can get me home.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…. I… I’m not from here—“

There was a loud banging sound, and the Hylians snapped their heads at something behind him.

“Ok well you can explain later, now come on,” Kogha sputtered, trying to grab Linebeck.

“Hey, don’t touch me! I still don’t know if I trust you or not—“

A loud shout came from beyond the door. “Kogha we need to leave now!” The second Hylian yelled, and Kogha grabbed Linebeck and threw him over his shoulder.

“Ah— HEY!” Linebeck yelled, but he was carried away as the three ran for it. Linebeck watched behind the three, seeing Astor and Zant appear. “Ah! Kogha!” Linebeck yelled as they noticed the group running away. Kogha slightly turned around and groaned.

“Ugh! Not that guy!” Kogha set down Linebeck while running, causing him to nearly fall over. “Make sure he gets out safely.”

“Wait, what are you doing, Kogha?” the first hylian asked.

“Buyin’ you some time,” Kogha said with a grin in his voice. Astor held up the strange contraption in his hand, and a red substance poured out of it, heading straight to the group. Linebeck gasped when it came close, but it was stopped by a strange blue shield put up by Kogha. Someone grabbed Linebeck’s hand and he was pulled along, which he quickly tried to pull away.

“I can run on my own! Let go!” He shouted, and the hylian holding his hand grumbled, letting go. The three ran for a long while after they made it outside, and when they were far enough, they all collapsed. Linebeck leaned against a tree and sighed with relief. Well at least actual escape wasn’t an issue anymore... Except this stupid collar was still on him.

“Kogha…” One of the hylians muttered, staring at the building they just escaped from.

“Did he make it out?” The other one asked, and they both watched intently. But there was nothing.

“I knew we shouldn’t have left him alone! They might’ve gotten to him this time!” The first Hylian said frantically, “they probably captured him, and now he’s gonna die! And the yiga clan will be without their leader!”

Linebeck felt guilt creep up on him. It didn’t matter what he thought about the men that saved him, they saved him. And Kogha… he must’ve given up everything just for them… just for him…

“Oh goddesses,” he mumbled, “he saved my life, and I didn’t even get to say thank you… heck I didn’t even show that I was grateful…. Goddesses… he didn’t deserve this.”

“Aw, how nice of you to care about me.”

Linebeck flinched at the sudden presence of another person next to him, and he nearly tripped into the other Hylians who stared at Kogha in awe.

“Kogha!”

“You’re ok!”

Kogha puffed out his chest and pointed at them dramatically. “Of course I’m alright! I may not be able to beat those lunatics down there, but I sure as heck can escape them!”

The Hylians both gave relieved sighs while Linebeck caught his breath. If one more person snuck up on him like that one more time…

“Oh come on now,” Kogha leaned towards Linebeck, “where’s that gratitude you wanted to show me?”

Linebeck groaned and stood up straight. “Thanks or… whatever,” he mumbled.

“Well, that was better than nothing I suppose,” Kogha scoffed, and the Hylians stood beside Kogha who had his finger resting on the chin of his mask. “I suppose I’m not done rescuing you yet, where’s your home? I can take you there.”

“Uh–” Linebeck looked down, gnawing his lower lip. There was no way that Kogha was going to get him out of here, he doubted he was in the same era that he was in before. Kogha tilted his head at him when he didn’t say anything.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

Linebeck glared at him. “No. I just… I don’t think you can get me home. Unless you can open up a portal across eras–”

“Wait– you’re from a different era?” One of the Hylians stepped up, looking surprised. Linebeck sighed.

“Yes, I am, and I need to get back to where I was,” though Linebeck could return to his beloved ship, he didn’t want to. He couldn’t abandon his friends, and he couldn’t abandon Link. Kogha let out a laugh and relaxed his posture.

“Hey buddy, I can open up a portal across eras,” Kogha wrapped his arm around Linebeck, making him squirm. “Though it’s not easy to do. I’ve been alive for so long that I was able to learn how to do it but Sheikah magic can’t normally do portals, and it’s just super hard to do in general–”

“Well for it being hard to do, it sure does happen a lot!” Linebeck yelled, and Kogha backed up with his hands up defensively.

“Calm down, let me just see where you once were and I can send you back.” Kogha leaned forward and stared at Linebeck for much longer than he’d like. Finally, Kogha hummed and stepped back. “I see,” he said softly, amused.

“What?”

“Once I open up the portal I want you to waste no time getting in, alright? I can’t keep it open for a long time.”

“Wait, you know where to take me? How?”

“Oh, uh, Sheikah magic, now get ready!” Kogha lightly shoved Linebeck, then got low, swinging his arms in a weird pattern, and right behind Linebeck, a portal opened up.

“Woah!” He stared at the red portal in front of him, trying to see if he could see the other side.

“Linebeck!”

Linebeck swung around at Kogha, surprised at how he knew his name, and he saw the Hylians gather around their leader.

“Tell Ammon I said hi, alright?” Kogha said in a strained voice, and Linebeck blinked. Did he… know Ammon? Kogha gestured to Linebeck with his head and the Hylians stepped forward, pushing Linebeck into the portal.

“W-wait! The collar–” was all Linebeck was able to say before he was pushed into the portal, and he landed on his back harshly in tall grass. He laid there for a moment, thinking about everything that happened to him when he heard yelling from far away.

“Linebeck! Come on, I’m sorry I yelled at you!” He heard Ammon shout.

“I swear if that man is in danger and we have to save him I will throw him into the lake!” He heard Leon grumble, and Linebeck couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Classic Leon.

“Hey, we’re supposed to be looking for him to make sure he’s alright, not threatening him,” Rusl spoke up, and Linebeck heard Leon groan. He would’ve called for them, but after being pushed into that portal, he was feeling pretty dizzy, and his ribs hurt from falling onto the ground. The three were silent for a while, until Linebeck heard their footsteps right next to him, and Leon accidentally kicked his head as he tripped over him.

“OW!” Linebeck sat up and rubbed his temple painfully as Leon laid sprawled out on the ground. “Watch where you’re going, Leon!”

Leon scrambled to his feet and glared at Linebeck. “You– You watch where you’re laying!” He retorted and Linebeck heard the other two groan.

“Leon for Din’s sake,” Ammon muttered, and he kneeled down next to Linebeck. “Are you alright? We got pretty worried about you.”

“Yeah, what’s that on your neck?” Rusl pointed at the collar that stayed around Linebeck’s neck.

“Oh, you know, I got abducted by a bunch of weirdos and they put this stupid collar on me so I wouldn’t use magic or whatever,” Linebeck said nonchalantly. The others gasped.

“You got kidnapped?”

“Who took you?”

“Are they still near?”

Linebeck shook his head. “No, they were from a different era. I’m lucky this weird red guy was able to open up a portal for me to return.”

“Goddesses Linebeck,” Leon groaned, “how do you always get yourself into these situations?”

“I don’t know but I do,” Linebeck looked over at Ammon and pursed his lips. “Um, the red guy…. His name was Kogha and he told me to tell you hi, for some reason.”

Ammon’s eyes widened in surprise. “K-Kogha? You saw him? I–” He looked down, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth, but it quickly went away. “Were you in my era?”

“I don’t know, do you normally deal with the weirdos called Yuga, Ghirahim, Astor, Zant, Vaati–”

“Astor?”

“Zant?”

“Vaati…”

Linebeck stared at the others in surprise. So they all knew them? Or at least some of them. Ammon looked confused, Rusl looked shocked, while Leon looked furious.

“Well, seems like I have a lot to tell you guys,” Linebeck said with an awkward chuckle. He tugged at the collar and stood up. “You think you could get this stupid thing off of me while I tell you the details?”

The three of them snapped out of their reactions and nodded, standing up as well.

“Don’t worry Linebeck,” Rusl started, wrapping his arm around his shoulder, “I have the right tools to get that off of you.”

“But I am very curious about your encounter with Kogha and Astor. You know Astor died in the calamity a long time ago.”

Linebeck shrugged. “Ok, well I did see him and all the others together. But uh, I wouldn’t recommend meeting them.” The others chuckled, and they all escorted the sailor back to camp.

[alder-saan]

I'll keep you safe (part 3)

Brienne & reader

This is the third part (here a link for the first part, and here for the second part)

Warnings : loss, death.

Full angst

Word count : ~2200

Don't kill me plz...

The man fell. Dead. You had gutted him. You cleaned your sword, catching your breath. Travelling with Brienne, you had learnt what it felt like to kill a human being. That wasn’t the best feeling in the world. But sometimes, it was necessary. When four men attacked you in the middle of the night, it was necessary. You sat on a tree stump. You had no armour, and he almost killed you many times. But you only had small wounds on your legs and arms. You would need some bandages, but that was okay, you loved thinking about the scars you would have, and the stories you could tell... But you also would need training lessons…  And before, you had to find Brienne.

Where was she? The darkness of the woods at night made it difficult to see properly. While you were fighting, you strayed a bit from the camp. You whistled, calling your owl. Banshee emerged from the night, as silent as Death. She landed on your arm. You caressed her white belly, and she made this sort of purring sound she always made when you pet her.

“Help me find Brienne, will you?”

She opened her big black eyes and flew away, disappearing again between the shadows. You double checked that the man was dead and walked towards what you thought was the way to the camp. You couldn't have gone far anyway.

The night was quiet. It was almost strange. Usually it was full of noises, from animals, from the wind in the leaves. Tonight there was no sound at all. No night-time crickets, no nightjar, no woodlark. It was as if everyone had fallen silent. The wind was soft, but still cold. You shivered. A wolf lamented in the distance. 

It was the heavy sound of mourning.

Was it because you had killed some men? 

A long screech tore through the silence. You recognized the barn owl screech. Banshee had found Brienne. You walked towards the cry. You imagined her, being worried because the man was tall and strong, and you had no armour. You were so proud because you had managed not to get killed. You almost ran through some bushes. She was there, lying on the floor, Banshee on her shoulder. Near her, three men were dead, bathing in their own blood. Banshee rubbed her head against her cheek. On a branch, a raven was looking at her. You smiled and approached. She was there, alright, you had found her.

You froze.

Was it… blood? Was it blood, dripping from her neck? You immediately sat next to her.

“Brienne! Are you okay?”

She turned her head to you.

“Y/N, is that you?”

“Yes, yes, that’s me, I… I’m gonna help you stand up, okay? Just gimme your hand.”

“Help me lift my sword…”

You helped her lift her sword, following the movement of her arm. You didn't quite understand what she was getting at, but you had learnt not to argue with her orders. Carefully, she moved her swords towards you. You didn’t realise what was happening until the blade was on your shoulder. Was she knighting you? But you weren’t ready! Why would she do that now? That was so strange, all the atmosphere, the lack of sounds, Brienne lying on the floor, wounded, and now she wanted to knight you? That seemed unreal. You suddenly couldn’t move, couldn’t ask her what was going on. Fear had paralysed you.

“Y/N June, do you promise to fight against wrong-doers and to protect widows, orphans and the poor”

You tried to tell something, but no sound came out your throat.

“Y/N?”

“I-I promise.”

“I, Ser Brienne of Tarth, do hereby dub thee Ser Y/N June, may your courage and devotion become a shining example to the people of the Seven Kingdoms.”

That was it. You were a knight. She just knighted you. But you couldn’t be happy. Brienne was dying, she was getting weaker and weaker. You ripped a piece of cloth from your cape  and applied it to the wound. It wasn't that deep, you were hopeful she would pull through. That wasn’t the first time you would heal injuries. But the haemorrhage was too severe and the piece of fabric soon went blood red. Now the thick liquid was flowing through your fingers, which you held against her skin in a desperate attempt to block it.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N…”

“Shhh, don’t talk. You’ll be alright, I prom-.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, now you’re a knight.”

“I will keep it!”

“Y/N.”

You shook your head fiercely. You didn't want to hear her say that.

“I WILL KEEP IT!”

She simply couldn’t die. She was your hero. She saved your life. She was the strongest knight you ever knew. She was like your mother. You always saw her as an immortal goddess. She couldn’t die now, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the woods. You tried to take off her armour, without moving her body so that she wouldn’t lose any more blood. She had to live. You would do anything.

“Y/N, please. Listen to me.”

You looked at her face. Her cheeks were drenched in tears. And so were yours.

“I love you so much. I’m so sorry for leaving you now…”

“You won’t, you will live. You can’t die!”

“Oathkee-” she coughed, blood trickled down her chin “Oathpeeper’s yours now. Make good use of it.”

“No, no, no, shut up, don’t talk like you are about to die.”

“I am, Y/N. I’m sorry.” She gave you a bittersweet smile “I want to live… That’s so stupid how a single mistake can lead me to that.” She chuckled but a new cough stopped her. “I just took one step too close to him, he was able to throw me out of balance. Can you believe it? One fucking step. I’m dying because of one fucking step…”

You took her hand, she squeezed yours.

“I’m pathetic, Y/N… A proper knight doesn't die in front of their squire.”

“You’re not, you’re-” A sob covered the end of your sentence.

“Please, I want to be buried on the Island of Tarth…”

You nodded. You took Oathkeeper, her sword, your sword now. You didn’t know why, it comforted you. It was… a part of her. She had never separated from it. 

“I don’t know where I’m going to, but remember, I’ll always be proud of you..”

“Please don’t leave me… Please. I beg you. I need you. You can’t abandon me like that. I can’t live without you by my side. I can’t…”

She gasped, you looked at her again. Her eyes were wide open, as if she just understood everything in the world. But she couldn’t see anything.

“Please, Brienne. Please, wake up.”

She didn’t.

“Please…”

She was dead. You were alone, in the middle of the woods, in the middle of the night. You shouted, screamed her name. You cried, snuggled up to her still warm body. You knew, even if she had had no armour, you couldn’t have heard her heartbeat anymore. She was dead. She was… 

That couldn’t be true. She couldn’t be gone, just like that. She couldn’t. That was not possible. That was a nightmare. Just a damn nightmare. Maybe if you tried to sleep, she would be here again… You laid down against her and closed your eyes. You just had to sleep…

 

But when you woke up, she was still dead, next to you. After crying all morning long, you knew it was time to bring her back to her home. She had asked you one last thing. You had to do it. You slowly removed his armour, trying not to cry too much. You wanted to be strong. You wanted to show her, wherever she was, that you could handle it. You were a knight, now. Her body was heavy, she was so tall, and the more you failed to mount her dead body on her horse, the harder it became mentally. But you managed to do it. You put a blanket over her, to protect her a little from the eyes and the animals.

Gladly, you were not far from the Sapphire Isle. You made your way to Storm’s End, and found a boat going to her home. The captain of the ship was not very happy about carrying a corpse on board, but when he learnt that it was the heiress of Tarth, he asked no more questions and let you pass. While the boat crossed the sea, you stayed locked up with her. You didn't want to leave her. It was stupid, but you hoped she would wake up. You couldn't look at her, it was too difficult, but you stayed next to her, letting the cloth cover her completely, and clutching the handle of Oathkeeper.

When you entered Evenfall Hall, Lord Selwyn of Tarth was confused. He never saw you. He didn’t know who you were. All he knew was that you arrived with two horses and one of them looked like Brienne’s. You simply couldn’t look at him, you couldn’t face him. You bowed down, eyes fixed on the paving stones.

“Who are you, traveller?”

“I am Ser Y/N June, my Lord.”

He seemed surprised. Brienne already told him about you. But why wasn’t she there? Were you THE Y/N June?

“What brought you to the Sapphire Isle?”

“Brienne of Tarth.”

So you really did know her… You were THE Y/N June.

“How is she? I haven't seen her for a while.”

“She’s… she’s gone, my Lord.” You had been preparing these words the whole way. And you managed to say them. 

He took a few seconds. His grey brows furrowed.

“What do you mean by “she’s gone���?”

“I mean she’s… She’s…” You couldn’t say this word. You didn’t want to. Lord Selwyn saw the tears on your cheeks. His eyes turned sad.

“How?”

“Four men attacked us.”

“Where is she? Where did you bury her?”

“She wanted to be buried here. I brought her.”

“Thank you. You can stay here as long as you want to. We’ll have to talk about something. But later. I need to… go somewhere. I'll have a funeral prepared for her. You will be invited, of course.”

And he left the room.

On the following days, it was her funeral. It was the end. She would never wake up. She was in her coffin, with her armour. With some of her belongings. With a bolt of your shackles you always kept. She looked so peaceful, she had a kind of smile. You wondered if she was happy, wherever she was now. You wondered if she could look at you right now, putting flowers in her coffin. You wanted to jump in it, to shake her until she would open her eyes. Or just to lay there with her, and to die in her arms. Without her, all was so cold even the sunshines couldn’t warm you. She had saved you. She had given her life for you. If you had been stronger, she wouldn’t have to fight these three men. This was all your fault. It should have been you, the person lying at the bottom of the grave. This was unfair… 

Lord Selwyn put his hand on your shoulder, this made you come back to reality.

“We need to talk about something, Ser June.”

You nodded and followed him to a big room with a desk, some books that looked like records and writing material.

“Ser June, Brienne told me about you. She said when she died she wanted you to have all she had. Including the land she would have inherited from me.”

“Is… Is that even possible?”

“Yes. She officially adopted you two months ago.I couldn’t send her a letter to let her know all was done. She didn’t tell you she wanted to do that?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You turned your head towards her.

She had this look in her eyes, the one when she wanted to ask something but was unsure of the answer.

“If it was possible, would you want me to adopt you?”

“Of course! What made you think I could possibly say no?”

“I don’t know…”

“I… She didn’t.” 

How did she manage to do that?

“I’m really happy she finally had a family. And now you're also my family. You can take our name and become Y/N of Tarth, if you want to.”

“Yes, yes, I want to be Y/N of Tarth.” Like that, she was kind of living in your name, wasn’t she?

You put a white rose on her grave, on which was written “Here lies Brienne of Tarth, fearless knight of the Seven Kingdom, beloved daughter and friend.”

“Thank you… Mom. Thank you. I love you.”

The wind blew.

_____________________________________________

A/N : The way I cried writing it...

You can continue to ask me some more chapter, they will be before this one, that's all. (unless you want the next part of the story)

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode Origins — Varian

tw: neglect / mentioned abuse

wanna read the extended story? here’s the table of contents!

⚠️ THIS IS NOT THE NEXT CHAPTER OF PROJECT KILLCODE, THIS IS BACKGROUND FOR VARIAN.

two years prior to the beginning of project: killcode

VARIAN WAS DYING.

He had to be. 

It was freezing. Absolutely freezing, and the broken space heater he was given, though the hot coils were nearly pressed against his back, was doing extremely little to stave off the cold that was seeping into him from the stone he was laying on. 

The obnoxious, intensely loud drilling and banging that was echoing through the mine around him didn’t much help the throbbing headache he’d been sporting for three whole days, either. He was curled into just about the tiniest ball he could muster against the little space heater. He was shaking like a leaf anyways, but also sweating profusely, and he was pretty sure that if he as much as thought about food — the only real driving factor in his life — he would puke up all the nothing inside of him. He only felt this bad when his number was really, really low. He felt like he’d caught a case of the terrible flu that had gone around the mines a few years ago and left the whole place desolate.

His left foot (sockless and shoeless, because socks and shoes and jackets and the like were only for real workers.) touched the freezing cold metal of the new five-by-five tungsten cage he’d been in for the past two and a half months, and the shock of the cold alone was enough to make a sad little noise escape him.

He was so extremely tired; but he wasn’t allowed to sleep when they had men on duty.

The mine — lit by these huge lamps and massive work lights — was almost empty. They were still harvesting some of the few day-old purple crystals (ten feet tall in size, five in width and three deep, because that’s the size they liked.) from the ceiling there, but there were only a few left. Maybe forty-five minutes work.

Varian wasn’t sure he could summon anymore.

He hadn’t eaten in three days — by far the longest he’d gone, which he thought his master’s men knew wasn’t good for a kid like him. The third shift guys were mean; they didn’t give him what his master portioned out just because they wanted to taunt him with it instead.

They didn’t realize that it could literally kill him.

Or they didn’t care.

Varian trembled violently. His white t-shirt and joggers weren’t enough to even begin to ward off the subzero temperatures that were seeping in from the surface. He’d never really been outside the cave, but he knew that wherever he was couldn’t have been a happy place — it didn’t seem to get above freezing ever. He’d even heard the workers say it was warmer in the mines than it was outside.

He couldn’t imagine that.

He coiled himself up tighter, tucking his knees up and wrapping his arms tightly around himself. If he could just make it to first shift, his master would be back and maybe he’d notice Varian didn’t feel well.

How much longer did third shift last?

He was violently pried from his thoughts by the shrill sound of metal banging against metal, over and over. He couldn’t see. When had he closed his eyes?

He peeled his heavy eyelids open and caught sight of the third shift manager staring at him through the bars, which he had been beating with a metal clamping tool. (Varian couldn’t remember his name on a good day, but right now, it was hopeless.)

“Nam nuzhno bol'she kristallov,”

God, his internal translator wasn’t working anymore, and trying to think about it only made his head hurt worse. How he wished everyone spoke English.

Well, for now, the only word in that sentence he could manage was crystal.

“I can’t,” He mumbled hoarsely, so quiet it was more like he was talking to the floor. He gave saying it in the worker’s language a valiant attempt, but he literally couldn’t get his cottony brain to work up what he was trying to say. 

The man’s face, long and round and angry, twisted into a detestable frown. “Tebe luchshe, ili ty budesh' nakazan.”

Varian, again, only caught one word: punished.

He couldn’t be punished again. Last time it’d ended with him unconsious for four days straight, and a fired (aka killed) second shift manager. What if he didn’t wake up this time?

With a shaky exhale, he pushed himself as upright as he could. His arms were shaky and weak and he was so, so tired. As soon as he began to move, the room spun, and he whimpered at the intense and stabbing pain it caused in his head. The spinning also invited in a nice old wave of nausea.

There was a loud bang of the man hitting his tool against the cage again, which made Varian wince at the reverberating pain it shot through his skull. “Khvatit nyt' i sdelay eti kristally, mal'chik.”

He caught two words, that time: Whining; Crystals.

Varian lifted his right hand out toward the rest of the mine, pushing his headache and the fact that he was pretty sure he was dying away as best he could, focusing on the rocks.

Small crystals began to sprout among the large stones, but he could feel his energy draining like there was a hole in the tank. Making so many crystals for these guys on a normal day usually left him fatigued enough for a lifetime, but right now…

The crystals only got to about an inch or two in size before black dots began dancing in his vision, and he had to put his hand back on the floor to keep from literally falling over. 

“I can’t,” He muttered. “My number.”

The man’s face twisted into an expression of pure anger and annoyance as he and the other workers looked out at the minuscule little crystals Varian had made.

With a loud huff of frustration, the man stalked away from the cage.

That could only mean one thing.

Varian laid back down rather ungracefully and coiled his arms up around himself as tight as he could manage, the backs of his eyes burning like they were on fire. His head hurt and his stomach hurt and his body hurt and everything hurt and he wanted to go home.

If he had one, that is.

Varian had never seen a house in his life; not that he could remember, anyway. Beyond his imagination, he had no idea what it would be like to be in a house with parents and siblings. From what the workers talked about, it sounded heavenly.

And Varian had spent his whole eleven years in a cage in a mine.

He only barely managed to keep the tears from falling as the footsteps returned — he would only get punished more if he cried.

The sickening crack crack of an electric baton filled the air, and Varian curled up tighter, eyes burning spectacularly more than they already were. He got his feet and head away from the metal, making himself as small as he could.

It was okay. As long as he stayed conscious, he’d be fine. As long as he didn’t pass out like last time, he’d be fine.

Don’t pass out when he shocks you.

Don’t pass out when he shocks you.

Don’t pass out when he shocks you.

“Dominik, uberi etu chertovu dubinku ot moyey malen'koy igrushki!” He knew that voice. He knew that word. Only one person ever said it: moyey malen'koy igrushki — my little toy.

Varian did actually start crying with a strange relief when he heard the voice of his Master — he wasn’t supposed to be there before first shift, but by some saving grace, he was.

Varian barely saw the shape of Ivan — his master — approach the cage through his tears. He was older, way older than the other workers, and had this weird happiness and nonchalance about him even though he was the one behind keeping a child in a cage for years with no remorse.

“Good morning, moya malen'kaya igrushka,” He said, his accent thick but somehow comforting in a way Varian knew it shouldn’t be. His master crouched down in front of the cage. “Why are you crying?”

Varian exhaled shakily, his hands unwilling to move to wipe away his tears. They were too cold; he was too tired. 

“My number,” He whispered.

Ivan looked back at the third shift manager like a man with murder on his mind. He reached into his toolbelt and retracted a small, long device, fiddling with the end of it for a moment.

“Give me your hand, moya malen'kaya igrushka,” Ivan ordered, gently, and Varian didn’t dare disobey. He carefully slid his hand through the two nearest bars, and Ivan grabbed his middle finger, way gentler than normal, and pricked it with the small machine.

After a moment, the screen displayed the number 19.

“You deny him rations,” Ivan said lowly, with a huff, his dangerous looking blue eyes flicking up to the other man. “You know this number can kill him.”

Ivan dropped the little machine on the stone, whirling on the other man like some kind of angry animal. “Vy ponimayete, chego mne budet stoit' poterya etogo aktiva?! i ty izbil yego, kogda menya ne bylo na smene!”

Varian watched through blurry, bleary eyes as Ivan ripped something else from his belt — something that, when he saw it, hit Varian like a ton of bricks.

The pistol only shined in the lamplight for a moment before: “You are a disgrace to my operation.”

BOOM!

The bang was nearly deafening in the cave, bouncing along the walls and tunnels for several seconds before it fell eerily quiet.

A body thudded next to Varian’s cage. Their heads were close, both pairs of eyes wide, one unseeing and the other full of tears. Part of his head was blown off. There was blood everywhere.

Varian, unable to keep much of a hold on any part of his terrified and terrible-feeling self, threw up whatever tiny bit of anything was left inside of him on the stone near his head. 

His whole body was being wracked by the soft but violent sobs that were ripping their way up his throat. He closed his eyes and kept them shut tight, trying his hardest to ignore the smell of blood and puke.

Two people were going to die in the mines tonight.

“There, there, moya malen'kaya igrushka,” Ivan cooed strangely, and Varian heard him holster his pistol. “Do not worry. I will get you IV bag. We will give you fluid and you will continue working, yes? We will not have to punish you this time, yes?”

Varian had never been happier to hear the words IV bag and not punish in his life.

Ivan walked off, and Varian thought that maybe, maybe if he got that IV bag, he could make it through today.

(To do it over… and over… and over…)

But then, more noises came. 

Fighting noises?

Within ten seconds, the mine erupted into sound and action. There were figures moving here and there, and while Varian couldn’t see much thanks to his tears and progressively worsening tunnel vision, he saw blurs of color moving around him and more gunshots started ringing out.

Chaos. That’s what it was, chaos that Varian couldn’t see, loud chaos. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the loud noises to pass, to give him a break.

And then someone was fiddling with the lock on his cage.

He peeled his gluey eyes open at the sound of the lock rattling. Someone was messing with it.

Someone… black and blue?

The cage door opened after a moment of their fiddling, and Varian only cried harder when the black and blue person with a weird mask came inside the cage with him. What was this? A new form of scary punishment? Was he getting a new master? Why was everything so loud?

“Hey there, kiddo. It’s alright. You’re going to be okay,” 

Varian never thought he’d be so relieved and simultaneously confused to hear a voice in his life — he didn’t know the voice, but he did know the accent. Completely and utterly, unmistakably American.

The only American he’d ever known had been killed for trying to release him.

Maybe this American would be the same.

“Hey, buddy, can you hear me?” The black and blue guy put his hand on Varian’s forehead, which felt so good, because it was so warm and Varian was so not. Despite that, he forced himself to flinch away and squeeze his eyes shut.

He was not weak. He wouldn’t fail another test. He failed the last test where Ivan had tricked him into thinking a worker would let him out — he got punished hard that day.

The guy breathed in, only a little, and very quietly. “It’s okay; it’s alright. We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. My name is Nightwing. I… bet you aren’t feeling too well, huh?” The guy asked, picking up the little machine from the stone next to the cage and cringing at the number on it. “We’re here to help you — we’re going to get you out of here. What’s your name?”

Varian was wracked by another wave of sobs and trembles at the same time, so he didn’t reply.

Nightwing frowned. “Can I pick you up?”

“No,” Varian forced out. (Wow, his brain was literally malfunctioning. How did he say what he was trying to say? Why couldn’t he remember English?) “Ostav' menya v pokoye.”

Leave me alone.

Nightwing looked off to the side for a minute, the wheels in his brain turning. “Privet, priyatel'. YA znayu, eto strashno, no my zdes', chtoby spasti tebya.”

He spoke the words like he knew them by heart, but his American accent on top of Ivan’s language was atrocious.

Varian let his eyes drift to the other parts of the mine, where people in equally as bright uniforms were beating up Ivan’s men and leaving them on the ground. One in particular, a large one with a red metal helmet, had Ivan against the wall with a gun in his face.

If this was a test, if these were Ivan’s men in disguise, they wouldn’t hurt him, would they?

The guy with the red helmet bashed Ivan in the head with the butt of the pistol, and Varian’s master hit the stone floor.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. After all, Ivan was the only consistent thing he had throughout his entire life. Varian knew it was really screwed up of him to be attached to the man that kidnapped him, put him in a cage, and electrocuted him as punishment when he did wrong, but what else did Varian have to be attached to?

Instead of replying, he made himself tighter (if he even could) and cried there.

He kind of just wanted to pass out. Maybe he was hallucinating.

“Hey; buddy,” Nightwing tried again in English. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay?”

“No!” Varian replied, but it wasn’t like he had much (or any) fight in him when the guy started scooping him up, anyways.

He’d never, ever, ever felt anything near as blissful as the warm guy gathering him up off of the stone. He didn’t think he’d ever felt something so warm in his life.

“There we go. Wow, you’re freezing,” The guy muttered, mostly to himself. “Red, can I borrow your cape?”

A moment passed and then Varian was being moved around, and a thick, nearly insulated feeling fabric was wrapped around him. “There you go, you’re going to be okay. Oracle, I have the boy — around little B’s age, I think. Looks malnourished, and possibly diabetic. There’s a blood tester on the floor and the last test is only reading at nineteen. He’s lethargic. The temperature down here is close to freezing and he’s only wearing a t-shirt and pants.”

A female voice came, quieter, like it was through a phone, but Varian couldn’t hear what it was saying. He was more enamored by how warm this guy was. He tried to press into it, because he was absolutely freezing and he’d never felt anything quite that warm and comfortable before, which prompted the guy to start gently rubbing his shoulder. 

This wasn’t a test?

Was he really about to leave this place?

Was he going to see what was outside of the cave?

Varian hid his face away in Nightwing’s shoulder and sobbed weakly, something strange like hope burning in his chest. 

“I know, I know, buddy,” He said softly, a gentler voice than Varian had every heard in his life. Nightwing’s hand came up and rested on his head, combing gently through his hair. “We’ve got you now — you’re safe. We’re going to help you feel better and get you back to America where you belong. To your parents. They’ve been waiting for you to come home for a long time.”

His… his… 

…parents? 

But… but he couldn’t even remember them…

“Yeah. I’m heading back up to the jet with him now — I’ll see if he’s willing to tell me anything after I get him some warmth and sugar,” Nightwing said, holding Varian closer as he began to move.

“You’re going to be okay, buddy. Everything’s going to be okay,”

That was the last thing Varian heard before he started slipping into unconsciousness, Nightwing’s hand combing through his hair. 

He was going home.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld ❤️

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[chronicallyonlinewriter]

Bright Fire, if you please

Bright Fire is fun. I started writing it, but it just never ended up going anywhere. Basically, Ellie and Joel make it to Bill and Frank's compound, but Bill and Frank are still there. Not much has changed - Frank is still sick, but because they're still alive they (they = Frank) insist they stay for a night, and rest up before continuing out west.

Joel considers pawning Ellie off on Bill, but it's very apparent he won't leave Frank, who doesn't have a lot of time left. There is angst about Tess, of course, who was a friend to Bill, and a dear friend to Frank.

It pretty much means everything to Ellie, meeting two queer men happily in love at the end of the world.

Small snip:

“Stay there.”

For once, Ellie didn’t need to be told twice. Joel approached the fence alone, the DANGER: HIGH VOLTAGE sign zip-tied to the chain-link already enough of a warning to curb any spark of defiance. She could hear it, anyway; the low hum resonating through the air, audible over the breeze and the twills of birds in the nearby trees – and this was far from the first electric fence she’d been around, so she knew better than to get too close to it.

She watched, instead, a knot of apprehension tightening in her stomach; observed him shift on his feet slightly, hesitating for only a moment before he reached out, his hand still swollen, his knuckles scabbed and puffy. His thumb tapped a keypad quickly, six beeps stinging at her ears before a deeper hum groaned from the fence, a button on the keypad gleaming green. She didn’t miss the slight sigh of relief that pushed out of his lungs when the gate unlatched itself and swung open just a few inches, or the way he rounded his shoulders before he turned to face her again.

“Listen to me,” he said, and there was just enough gruffness in his voice to draw her gaze up to him. His jaw was set, his mouth a hard line. “You stay close. Don’t talk to ‘em, don’t answer any questions they ask you – I’ll handle everything. You keep that –” he gestured vaguely to her arm, neither her bite marks nor her bandages visible under her jacket sleeve, “covered the whole time. Y’hear me?”

“Sure thing,” she responded, somewhat dully. “You got a muzzle you want me to wear, while we’re at it?”

He didn’t answer; only huffed impatiently without bothering to rise to the bait, and she scowled even as he gestured for her to walk ahead of him. The gate groaned shut behind them, the latch snapping with a finality that severed the world outside, even if she could still see it between the metal links. That persistent hum immediately returned, prickling the hairs on Ellie's neck and setting her teeth on edge.

They walked together down a wide street now, her eyes sweeping across every building that they passed. She hadn’t known quite what to expect from Bill and Frank’s, but it certainly wasn’t this – what amounted to a whole town contained within electrified metal, the houses and other buildings comprised of peeling paint and sagging siding, but still whole, standing tall. Fall gnawed at the edges of summer here, and what the trees hadn’t managed to hold onto now blew across her feet, colorful leaves swirling in the wind and catching against the curbs. Ellie had never been in a place like this before; still filled with the remnants of Before, while so open, smelling of fresh air and crisp leaves. “How many people live here?” she asked, finally noticing that she’d begun to lag behind his much longer strides, and jogging to catch up.

“Just Bill and Frank,” he replied, though his mind seemed to be elsewhere, his gaze focused on a large white house looming on their left. 

It was by far the largest one on the street, the paint a little less faded, the grass more neatly shorn. There were colorful flowers set into two large clay pots at either side of a white-painted wooden gate at the edge of the yard, and Ellie paused in front of one of them, bending down to sniff at the bright orange blossoms experimentally. “Don’t touch anything,” he called over his shoulder. Ellie, sure he wasn't looking, quickly squeezed a petal between her fingers. It gave away quickly, darkening and becoming slick against her skin, and she wiped her hand off against her jeans just as he paused, turning to look at her with an expectant expression. “C’mon.”

They didn’t even manage to make it halfway down the walkway before the door to the house burst open. “Oh, shit,” Ellie breathed, and it was instinct that made her duck behind Joel. A broad figure, his scruffy face contorted in a mask of fury, stormed down the porch steps, a shotgun clutched tight in his hands and the muzzle aimed right at them. She shot a panicked glance at Joel, expecting some decisive action, a whispered instruction, maybe even a mirror image of the weapon currently pointed at them. But he only grunted slightly, his fingers twisting over the pistol still holstered at his side but not drawing it free.

“Seriously?” he asked, clearly unimpressed. 

“The hell you think you’re doing?” the man practically barked, his eyes still squinting down the barrel of his gun. “You just show up, don’t even radio ahead –”

“Didn’t have time, Bill,” said Joel impatiently. “Put the damn gun down.”

“Who is that?” Bill demanded, the shotgun dipping momentarily towards Ellie's direction as she peered around Joel’s back. Before she could react, Joel, with unexpected swiftness, moved a step sideways, placing himself squarely between her and the barrel of the gun – and this surprised her more than she would have liked it to. “Easy, there,” said Joel, his voice edged with warning. “We’re just passin’ through. Headin’ west, figured we’d stop here for supplies. You owe me after that last run, Bill –”

“I owe you – what, is this a damn joke–”

“Bill!” Another voice echoed from within the house, laced with exasperation. The shotgun dipped momentarily, Bill's jaw clenching like a vise. He didn't relax, eyes still narrowed at them, but his shoulders slumped, his righteous fury simmering down to a grudging suspicion. “For god’s sake, Bill, will you put that thing down?” The door to the house still stood wide open behind him, and there was a heavy thud from somewhere inside.

“Frank!” Bill turned on his heel, disappearing into the house without another glance at them. They could hear him inside of the house; more thumps following a string of muffled cursing.

“Dude.” Ellie took a step back from Joel. “What the fuck. I thought these were, like…friends of yours.”

“Just…stay here,” Joel huffed, shaking his head – and then he left her, too, disappearing into the house, his hand drifting away from his pistol with every step. 

[thatwasntverycashmoneyofme]

𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾

❥𝗌𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗍 : 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋!𝖻𝖺𝗃𝗂 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗈𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗒, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾.

{ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 — 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖼𝗈𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾. }

・❥・

Dressed in a baby blue glittery two piece that shined beautifully, captivating him. A voice in his ear warns him of getting distracted, telling him to ‘Focus on the mission.’ He glances off to the side catching a glimpse of his now black haired partner mumbling an “Of course… I’m just trying to blend in.”

Eyes once again glued to you as your back faces the pole, arm above your head wrapped around it as you whine your hips sensually, making eye contact with him urging him closer with your finger. The nagging ‘Be on the lookout!’ coming through his earpiece not being heard through the trance you put him in.

Light purple led lights on your dark skin accentuated your figure, he could hear nothing. Not the shouting and catcalls of the men that begged for your attention, the complaining of his partner, nor the sound of his own heartbeat, everything faded to white noise.

The money rained down on you in slow motion, making you look like a goddess—one that stopped time or something else his brain couldn’t come up with for an on par ethereal comparison in the moment. He watched you walk down from the stage signaling one of the buff men that stood by your platform, not too close but not too far, to collect your money.

You approached leisurely circling him, your tall clear heels clacking with your every footstep, you trail your hand across his waist, giving him shivers that he wouldn’t let have the satisfaction of pushing through as you stood in front of him. Black stiletto nails caressed his collarbone sliding down his silk shirt stopping at his belt buckle, you fluttered your mink lashes looking into his brown eyes, a cheesy smile displayed on your lips from seeing him starstruck.

“So I seen you been eyeing me all night, is it too bold of me to assume you’d want a private dance baby~” Your slight accent had him throwing all caution to the wind as he smirked back, canines gleaming under the low lights. “Course not sweetheart ‘s the only thing I been looking forward to since I got here.”

You chuckle at his charm. “That so?” “Definitely.” Your hand held his as you smile. “Then let’s go.” You lead the way to your private room when he finally hears his partner in his head. “Get your head in the game! We have a job to do Intel said that he’s only here tonight. This is the last chance we have to catch the Bandit here tonight before he moves again.”

He turns his head towards the crowded area, faking like he was looking around before speaking softly. “I am Chifuyu just gimme five minutes I’ve got extra business to handle.” He hears the sarcastic scoff of a “Yea right.” focusing his attention on you leading him, his eyes follow the switch of your hips which has him biting his lips imagining inappropriate things.

You approach a door, the name ‘BABY’ in bold f/c letters adorning it, a tall caramel skinned slim man with dreads, arms folded under his pecs planted near, watching you and the male walk up. “Applejacks you can go imma be a few minutes.”

You watch him size the guy beside you, eyes scrunched in uncertainty. “You sure Baby?” You waved him off, a hand on your jutted out hip as you rolled your eyes. “‘Course I’m good don’t you got other business to deal with anyways?” He sighed coming off of the wall. “Yea right. Call if you need anything.” You giggle opening your door pushing in the sandy beige skinned, black haired dude you’ve yet to ask the name of. “..And no interruptions please and thank you.”

You blew a kiss at Applejacks before closing the door leading your sexy stranger to sit in the seat in the middle of the room, a different more lax song played through the speakers, you caress your body in front of him before taking a seat in his lap as your beau began to speak.

“So…Baby? That’s your name? What’s it really?” You let out a soft hum grinding your ass to his pelvis. “Nah that’s just my nickname. I can’t give my name out to my customers sorry boo~ What’s yours?”

He wished he could feel your smooth skin through his slacks, to rub on you and do inexplicable things and have you in unspoken positions, but he settled for his hands on your hips guiding your movements he still has to focus on his job after all.

“Uggh~ My friends call me Eddy.” You pleasantly exhale grabbing one of his hands leading it to your breast squeezing his hand on top of yours making him get the memo. You leaned back, lips on his neck under his ear, softly kissing it making him groan as you pull away from his lap slowly, his long hair tickling your face causing him to chase after you before you pressed your hand on his chest, lightly pushing him back into the seat.

You stand behind him one hand gliding your sharp nails up his chest the other slid around his neck as you press on kisses, the sound of your voice speaking to him bring him back down from cloud 9, his eyes fluttering back as he groans. “So what brought you to the club? Business or pleasure?”

You laugh at the look of bliss on his face before continuing. “I’m pretty sure I know which one it is cuz you ain’t give me a bill yet.” He blinked realizing he hasn’t. “Yea sorry bout that Sweetface. I came here strictly for business-”

He pauses grabbing your hand from his shoulder pulling you around to him, sitting you on his lap. “But I don’t mind a lil pleasure neither.” He smiles at your giggle before you speak again making his ears ring.

“Yea you’re supposed to be here looking for the Bandit? Right?” He opened his mouth to say a code word or anything but he was frozen, chills going through his spine. “Don’t worry about bothering that partner of yours, I don’t wanna have to mess up his face too bad..he’s too pretty.”

He stutters completely shocked getting ready to push you off of him before he felt a cool object on his neck that could only be described as a steel blade. ‘Where’d you even get it from?’ pedals through his brain riddled with frustration .

“Aht aht aht cooperate or my boys won’t hold back. Your partner’s pretty but he’s not that pretty.” The brunet stuttered out ‘What’s’ and ‘How’s’ before you interrupted his ongoing crisis. “Why does everyone automatically assume ‘the Bandit’ is male huh?”

You took his earpiece out wiping it on his shirt before putting it in your ear tapping it twice before hearing a little feedback. You smile at the shocked Eddy, fixing his hair, a stiletto pushing a few strands behind his ear tapping his cheek with the tips of your fingers, he could feel the subtle sharp pokes of your nails.

“Apple? You there?” You hear a ‘Yea’ coming from the other end as you got off of the stunned man who held his balled up fist at his side, heading towards the only dresser in room.

“You touch me and one word’ll have your buddy surrounded with slow singing and flower bringing over a closed casket.” You opened the draw pulling out your custom baby blue glock checking the clip making sure it’s loaded before reassembling it taking the safety off scoffing as you continue your rant from earlier.

“Like men will find any and every way.. it’s ridiculous.” You look at the man in the chair. “Before it was ‘the Bandit’ it was Baby Bandit. Did you know that Agent Keisuke? Probably not huh?” You watch his eyes widen in surprise of you knowing his name and the new information, he’s a little ashamed of himself for still wanting you.

You gasp sarcastically your glock covering your mouth. “Oh you didn’t know huh? That you’re in my club? You think someone wouldn’t notice pigs in their own club? You tracked in mud the second your foot stepped through my threshold.”

You walk towards him sitting on his lap once again, flipping your weave from your face, the hand holding your gun slung across his shoulder as he tensed under you, your head tilted to the side a little, unwavering smile still pulling him in. “Soo we’re here now… What did you want with me?”

He opens his mouth to speak before you put your gun to his lips silencing him, your finger coming to your own lips in the shushing motion, he could hear the static coming from his earpiece. “Aight tell Zoe and Pablo help you load up the car…” You glance at the man who’s lap you’re on, your playful grin taunting him.

“Take the pretty boy with you, he better be in tip-top shape too.” You pull out a zip tie you also got from the dresser banding his hands together as you got up pulling him with you.

“No sudden movements or noise. You already know the consequences. You and your little g-man is coming with me we’re gonna have a lot of fun…” He followed you towards the door noticing a cute coat that you were putting on tucking the gun inside a pocket that ended just above your knees, finally able to really look you in your eyes, a beautiful brown that he could tell was mocking him making his lip curl.

“…Cuz I got a lil preposition for you… We’ll mix business and pleasure.” You kiss his cheek the imprint of your gloss showing as you dragged him out the door heading towards the back exit a wicked smile on your face.

・❥・

𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗆 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌. 𝖣𝖮𝖭𝖳 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅, 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾. ©𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗒𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖺𝗅

[floppy-fries-bbg]

Pre serum Steve Rogers x Tall!Reader

“Come on! He’s cute!” Your best friend Dot try’s to convince you for the third time that evening to go on a blind date with a guy she knew. “I already told you Dot! I’m not going on a date with a stranger!” You explain for the third time as you go through Dots clothes trying to find any that you could wear.

You had always been unusually tall and built for some reason. At first you hated it, you hated how people would point and laugh, how that would call you names, how you could never find romance, but eventually you accepted it. It wasn’t your bodies fault you were this way and so what if you didn’t have a boyfriend, you didn’t need one anyways.

“Besides, we both know that as soon as he sees me he will freak and call me some name” you explain as you finally find a button up shirt that will fit you. “He’s different I swear!” Dot continues to beg as you start to change shirts. “I’ll go, but only if you offer me something” you explain making quicky work of buttoning up the crisp white shirt.

“alright, how about I get you a Duke Ellington record?” She offers with a small smile to which you smirk. “Make it two plus Billie Holiday” she sighs but agrees much to your excitement. “But first we have to get you some new clothes” she eyes your suspended pants and button up shirt. It wasn’t you clothes if you were being honest, the shot was dots which was to tight and the pants were her older brothers which were far to big.

*♡∞:｡.｡*♡∞:｡.｡

As you and Dot enter the diner her eyes scan over the crowds of couples as you adjust your skirt. Dot had given you a brown waist whirl away skirt, a white yolk blouse, and an Americana jacket . She even made you wear her heels. ‘Why did I agree to this’ you think as Dot drags you over to a booth. you only see one face and start to wonder your date is a no show. Actually no you were hoping he was a no show, it’d be much easier to leave that way. Unluckily for you he did show up.

As you get closer to the booth you realize there’s a man there but he’s tiny. To be fair everyone looked small to you but most men weren’t this short. “Hi, I’m Y/n, you’re Steve right?” You hold out your hand to shake as you take in his look.

He has dirty blonde hair, a sharp jaw line, icy blue eyes, and a pair of the softest looking lips. “Hi, that’s yeah, that’s me” a light blush dusts over his cheeks and giggle. It was cute how flustered he got.

Steve was awkward about it the whole date but in an endearing way. “Did you know pandas only mate once a year?” He blurted out once causing you to choke on your water. “I’m sorry what?” You giggle and he looks down at his burger. “Sorry” he whispers a little bit but you quickly make him shut up. “No, I just meant it was random, a good random thought.” You smile and he looks up at you smiling back.

Bucky and Dot almost immediately left you guys after they finished eating. “I don’t understand how Dot can dance all the time” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and turn to Steve who was staring but looks away as he notices your glance.

“Bucky too, he goes dancing every other night I seriously don’t understand how he could do that.” Steve laughs, it’s a warm laugh that makes your stomach do summersaults. “Do you want to get out of here?” You ask and he looks up at you nodding softly.

You take his hand and lead him out of the diner. “I’ll walk you home alright?” You offer still holding his hand as the two of you walk down the street, the cold air hits you but you were used to it as you didn’t get cold that easily, Steve on the other hand did.

You could feel him shivering and hear his teeth chattering. “Are you alright Steve?” You ask concerned while rubbing his hand. “Ye-yeah I’m alr-alright,” he says not very convincing. Letting go of his hand you slip off your jacket and wrap it around him. “Don’t lie, I can hear your teeth chattering.” “Sorry” he mumbles looking down but you ruffle his hair with a chuckle. “You’re fine, just take care of yourself more yeah?” You check on him and he agrees. “Okay…thank you.”

The two of you continue to talk the whole way to his house. “I couldn’t even come home because Bucky and Dot were going at it like bunny’s for hours I had to sleep at a motel that night.” Steve chuckles as you approach his house. “Well this is my stop,” he says not wanting the night to end. You walk him to the door and turns towards you.

“I hope I can see you again” Steve smiles hopeful “me too, I can’t wait.” You smile and walk away to head home. You turn on your heel and run back “Steve wait!” You yell out running to him. “Wha-” he gets cut out by you kissing him. His lips are soft and warm like him. pulling away you chuckle “I will see you soon.” You giggle while Steve’s face turns red as a tomato and he nods.

As soon as Steve shuts the door you register what you did. You immediately rush home your face redder that a tomato. ‘What the hell is wrong with me?!’ You question yourself as you walk into yours and Dots shared apartment. “Hey Y/n how was- ooo~” Dot smiles at you and you wave her off. “Shut up! I’m going to bed” you rush to your bed but end up staying up thinking about Steve all night

Bonus:

As Bucky gets home he snickers seeing Steve’s face. “Looks like you had a good time” he refers to his lips with smudged red lipstick. “Shut up!” He says covering his lips while Bucky laughs at him. “Well, at least you had a good date” he smiles thinking about the kiss.

[konohamaru-sensei]

similarities

Merry Christmas @qettleqorn!! I am so happy that last year (also around christmas!) I randomly decided to VC with you and we just talked for hours that day and got a long so great! You've become one of my closes people here, someone I share a lot with (Even when I'm embarrassed) and someone I really love talking to. Thank you for everything this year and wish you all the best for the next!

--

Nanami X Oc / Also Sukuna x OC

Courtesan JJK Au with special appearance of @fireflylitsky's Izumi

sorry that it ends so suddenly I had no idea for an end so its just there! :D

--

There was a commotion outside of the doors, some yelling and something dropped something that sounded like a pan with a loud clang on the ground. Kin opened her eyes and blinked into the half light coming from the windows. “I’m sorry, my lady,” the man beside her said. “They should be more considerate of you.”

“It’s alright, Kento,” she yawned. After all, it was rather unlikely that a guest stayed over long into the next day. If she came back late, it would just cause too much chatter anyway. 

She pushed herself up and shook out the locks of her hair. “Next time you just have to come to me”, she said with a wink. “Then we can remain undisturbed as long as we like.” 

Kento smiled friendly: “I understand that the permanent place on your side is already filled by another.” He said it so sweetly, as if he was not trying to accuse her of anything, but she’d met him often enough to hear the slight wind of envy. It was true though, if Kin ordered Kento to come to the palace she would have to lend Sukuna out to someone else to make space for him and Sukuna quite liked his high position at court.

“Well maybe you could share then,” she winked back and though she had told him often enough to be honest with her, he just lowered his head a little as if to say “As you wish.” He really was very good at this. That’s why she kept coming back and kept paying the rising fees that he was worth.

She had tried, of course, to get Kento to move to the palace with her to keep him from being bought out by anyone else but her, but Kin had to learn that he very much enjoyed the work he was doing and liked the freedom that the red light district offered him. At least in comparison to the shut in feeling of palace walls. She couldn’t fault him for that, no matter how much she might have wanted to.

It was not like Kin wasn’t satisfied with the men that were brought to her. Sukuna had been such a promising courtesan that she had paid a good sum to get him to stay and though Kenjaku had left to pursue his own things, he had been more than serviceable. But she had been feeling out for something new, maybe someone younger and this house had a good line up of young shining stars. So she had come by to look for herself.

The white haired boy, Satoru, was the talk of the town, his slightly smaller but no less handsome companion Suguru had the women in the palace swooning and their friend Mei Mei was the dream that many women and men at court were too poor to afford, but Kin had immediately taken to Kento. 

He wasn’t as tall as Satoru, as conventionally handsome as Suguru or as bold as Mei Mei. He was soft, his voice was deep, his hands were warm and Kin had wanted to steal him away instantly. Without success, at least so far.

So she had no choice but to come back out here regularly to see him and his fee went up with every visit she did to see him. “Can other people even afford you still?” she had asked him jokingly one time as they were sitting in a hot bathtub together. He had smiled as friendly as always and his answer “Some” had annoyed her more than she wanted to admit.

If only Sukuna wasn’t so territorial, then maybe she could just bring him around. Sure, both men would agree to it because it was their job, but Sukuna really liked to take charge himself. Over the many years he had served Kin he really had developed a feeling of superiority over her other partners. As if he was the best person and nobody else would ever be able to satisfy her as he did.

“My lady,” Kento said and pressed a soft kiss to her naked shoulder. “I think it's about time for you to make your way.” He didn’t say it, but Kin knew he meant that he needed time to get ready for the next clients in the evening.

She was about to put his hair out of his eyes and agree with him that it was time to go when the door flew open. A boy was in the doorway and at first glance Kin could feel her heart stop for a second. The cherry blossom hair and the jawline looked way too similar to someone she knew very well.

“Itadori-kun”, Kento said and sat up. “You should not come in here at this time. Especially not without knocking.”

The boy flushed instantly: “I’m sorry Nanamin.” He was stuttering. “I just saw that you didn’t get breakfast yet and…”

A scream was audible behind the boy and then two arms reached for him. “Yuuji!” It was the voice of the woman that Kin knew as being head of the maids in the place. “What the hell are you doing?”  A head with black hair stuck their head into the room. “Uh, excuse the boy’s behaviour, madam, eh, please enjoy your time.” Then she pulled the boy and pushed the door closed.

Kin had rarely noticed what had happened, she was too fixated on the appearance of the boy. “Who is he?” She asked Kento.

“Itadori Yuuji. He was growing up around here as an orphan. Uchiha-san, the head of maids, took him in. She was the one who disciplined him just now.”

Kin nodded. “Do you know where he is from?”

Kento raised a brow as if he was curious why she wanted to know that. “Many of us people around here have no real family. He is training in this establishment to earn some money. As far as I know Master Yaga never asks for background as long as people work hard.”

So they had no idea who was among them. Kin’s heart was beating against her ribcage. It seemed impossible to think that this boy had found his way back so close to his family, with how big the world and the country was, but she would have recognised that hair colour anywhere. He had grown to look a lot like his father.

Kento seemed suspicious when Kin hurried to get dressed next to him, but etiquette told him not to ask what was on her mind. Instead he made himself presentable and walked her down the large staircase to the exit of the building as always. “When are you planning on letting me see you again?” he asked as always in this overly polite manner to not imply he was begging or trying to get her money.

“Soon,” Kin replied exactly as always. She always sent notice ahead of time for him to clear his schedule, but she never did longer than 24 h ahead. 

No kiss goodbye, they were now in public after all, but she took his hand and squeezed it before the door to the carriage opened and she slipped inside. There was a much smaller woman already sitting inside, a purple kimono matching her dark hair. She was Kin’s closest attendant and cousin, royal enough to be dressed in riches but not nearly royal enough to be of importance. They were always together.

“Did you wait long?” Kin asked, because she didn’t want to lead with her news fist.

Izumi shrugged: “You take your time with this one, I know you might be late.” She was referring to Kento. Kin had suggested Izumi go meet him too, mostly because they often shared such things with one another, but her cousin had lately been focused on her actual marriage instead of looking for fun outside of it.

“I have news,” Kin couldn’t keep it in anymore. “Incredibly big news. Izumi, my dear, I found one of them.”

The other woman turned her head: “One of what?”

“Kids.” Kin reached over to take her hand. “I found one of your kids.”

The carriage wheels wobbled forward over the cobblestone, pushing both women from left to right as the wood kept creaking under their weight. And though there was so much noise around them, the silence that fell between the two friends was almost as audible. Izumi first went white and then her cheeks coloured red.

“You’re joking”, she said as if it was a matter of fact.

Kin grabbed her hand closer: “No, I would never joke about such a thing.”

Izumi stared into her lap: “You found one of my kids? In the whorehouse?”

“Yes.” Kin knew that's not what she wanted to hear, but it was the truth.

“Which one?”

“Yuuji.” Kin was amazed that the name had stuck, even though he’d probably grown up mostly on his own.

“Yuuji..” Izumi’s eyes blurred and it looked like she was lost in memories.

“He is training there,” Kin explained. “Apparently an apprentice.”

Izumi looked up. “So we can still stop him from working! If I could just go to see -”

“You can’t.” Kin cut her off before she could finish her thought. “Remember, you can’t talk to him.”

“Right,” Izumi’s eyes fell to her hands again. “That was what I promised when I gave them away.” That was the trouble of being royal, but not royal enough. You had power to choose your high profile courtesans, but children out of marriage had to be given away. It was cruel, but it was the law.

“Will you tell him?” Izumi asked without looking at her friend. “That you found his son, I mean?”

Kin laughed a little: “I don’t think he’d care.”

“Suppose not,” Izumi agreed.

They sat side by side like this for a while, as the walls of the palace closed behind them. Kin kept holding Izumi’s hand tightly to offer her support. They’d done so much together all their lives and Kin hated that she was put in the position to give up two sons in the first place. 

After a while Izumi turned to the other woman. “Do you think I can at least look at him? See him?”

Kin didn’t know how she could summon the child without making it look suspicious, especially with Kento already having noticed something was odd, but she didn’t like it when her friend looked so defeated. “Definitely. I will make sure you will.”