#can’t let the gang know I main glisten

[owoui]

as I lay dying on floor 13 (there was not the fabled last machine)

[dejwritesarchived]

DEBT, CHAPTER EIGHT

➣ warnings: yakuza boss!toji fushiguro x black coded reader, mentions of sex, mentions of sex work, profanity, gang violence, yakuza au, baby!megumi, drug mentioned, alcohol usage, drug usage, stripping, naoya being naoya, ➣ chapter summary: y/n learns more about nanami and bonds with her favorite fushiguro's.

➣ tags: @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @thicksimpx @hellavile @ihateliyah @galaxness @ceeriusly-dumb @stephanythedramaqueen @littlemochi @babe-im-bi @todo7roki @whatdidhesayyyy @imperatorkhaleesi @caribbeanwifey19 @etaerealboy

[ masterlist + previous + you can aslo read it on ao3 ]

YOU STARED INTO THE MIRROR APPLYING ANOTHER COAT OF LIP GLOSS. You rubbed your plump lips together, mixing the combo of your clear gloss and brown liner. The pastel blue top that has your boobs sitting perfectly and pretty. You were so nervous. It was your first time working a shift at such a provocative club and you could feel the nervous knot in your stomach twisting and turning constantly. You heard someone place something next to you on your personalized vanity that was for you. “Take a shot of this, the first night is always the roughest.” A girl said.

You turned to look at the girl. She had on a cropped tank top and you could see her black push-up bra that pushed her boobs up. She also was wearing a pair of black shorts with a Fanny pack that you assumed was for her to collect tips. Her head was filled with curls that fell in her face perfectly. “It’ll go by as quickly as possible.” She adds while she would grab some lotion from the vanity next to yours.

After you down the alcohol, letting the harsh brown liquor burn your throat, you watched as the girl would put lotion on her legs. Her light brown skin glistened with each stroke on her legs. You now were taking in her features as you noticed that she could have been mixed with black. She smiled at you before extending her hand, the scent of vanilla lingered up your nostrils as she waited for you to introduce yourself. 

“I’m Hana.”

“Y/N.” You shook her hand. 

“You’re the new dancer? I’ve heard some little things about you.” Hana picked up the bottle to put the cap back on it.

“Hopefully good things?” You asked. 

“Something like that, but you know a club where a lot of the employees are women can get messy,” Hana says. She glances at the clock, “Ah, it’s been thirty minutes since we opened. I should get back to my station behind the bar,” She extends her hand for you to grab. “Let’s go. You can’t hide in here away from the money for long. Plus, I’m positive it’s some gangstas in here that like to spend their money on pretty women like you.” Hana explains as she nudges you. 

You couldn’t help but smile at her as you took her hand. The once nervous pit that sat heavy in your stomach washed away as you made a new friend at work. You two walked into the main space where music blared through speakers and the scent of expensive cigars swirled around the air, you took note of your surroundings. Some women were giving some men lap dances and others were swirling around the pole. You remembered your manager mentioned that they rotate who dances on the main stage, but due to you being new it would take some time for you to get your time to shine. Tonight your role was to just do some lap dances to be able to cover the percentage you gave to your manager and then some for you to take home. 

Hana would give your hand a comforting squeeze as she was searching the room for a free man. She finally spotted a man in the corner in one of the private sections. All of his friends were chatting it up with a woman on their lap, except for him. She dragged you to the bar like a lost puppy searching for its owner, she went behind the bar and grabbed a bucket with ice and placed a bottle of whiskey in it. “Take this over there.” She motions her head to the section. “He looks rich.” She adds.

“I don’t know Hana, he doesn’t look like he wants to be bothered.” You said as she shoved the bucket in your hand. 

“Y/N, he’s staring at your ass,” Hana says as she would give you a look. “Go let him grab on it for an expensive price. Now go!” She gave you a light shove in the direction of the man.

With your head held high, you walked with so much sex appeal that many men you walked by heads turned to cop a look. You approached the security guard that was blocking anyone from coming into the section. You batted your eyelashes up at him and smiled at him, “I have a bottle on the house.” You held up the bucket. 

“Let her in.” 

You glanced behind the huge bodyguard and saw that the man who was staring at you had finally spoken. The guy moved with quickness letting you walk into the section. You smiled at him before you placed the bucket on the table. You were completely speechless, expecting the mysterious man to shun you away. However, here he sat with his thighs spread apart and drinking in your looks with his alluring hazel-colored eyes. Some of the buttons on his button-down shirt were undone and you could see the noticeable scar that was imprinted across his neck.  “You want to make yourself comfortable or you’re just going to let me keep staring?” He questioned as his lips curved into the most gorgeous smile you’ve ever seen. 

You searched around and saw the majority of the seats were taken before catching the flow of his words. His lap, you thought to yourself. You forced a chuckle before taking comfort in his lap. Even though he was the one to suggest taking a place on his lap, you could tell that you had him quite riled up to the point where he didn’t even know where to put his hands. As you shifted yourself on his lap, you grabbed one of his hands and placed it right on your lower back. His fingertips were able to trace the line of the g-string you were wearing. 

“I can pull you a drink if you want,” You leaned over to do just that but stopped you. 

His fingers snapped after he stopped you from pouring the liquor into one of the glasses. The bodyguard that once was guarding the entrance of the section hurried to pour the alcohol you brought over into the glasses. You sat in complete shock before your eyes met with his and you leaned over closer to his ear so he could hear you. While also letting him get a complete view of your cleavage and for him to be entrapped with the expensive scent of you, “You seem like a quite important man,” You said before leaning back. 

You watch as he chuckles, feeling his fingertips tapping at your lower back before he’s leaning towards your ear. 

“That’s because I am.” He said with confidence.

“Hello, earth to Y/N. You can’t zone out like that if you’re going to have to fight someone.” You heard Nanami say behind the punching bag he was holding in place. 

“I’m sorry, I just have a lot on my mind with this charity ball coming up.” You sighed as you brought your forearm up to your forehead to wipe away some sweat.

You’ve been training all morning from seven to now. Nanami taught you basic methods like getting out of chokeholds and defense methods. Then he ended the session by just letting you punch away at the punching bag that hung from the ceiling. Just to see how hard you punch, which according to him he thought you punched pretty good considering this was the first session. 

“I told you the first time when we met, don’t think too deeply into the tasks you’re assigned. You should be used to it now,” Nanami would walk to the mini fridge that was in the corner of his at-home gym. He grabbed two bottles of water and handed you one. 

“But come on, you’re telling me it doesn’t sit heavy in your mind when Toji assigns you a task?” You questioned as you took a sip from your water. 

“Of course it does. All the time considering that I’m the only engaged one in the damn gang.” Nanami admitted as he would prompt himself onto the floor. 

You joined him on the floor, stretching your tired limbs. “Engaged? I didn’t know you were freakin’ engaged Kento!” You shriek in excitement with a smile. “Congratulations, oh my god. We should throw you an engagement dinner or something,” You clapped your hands.

Nanami's lips parted to argue, considering that he and his fiancé have been engaged for six months now. It was a little too late to congratulate him with dinner parties. They had already set up meetings with planners and such. “Thank you.” He smiles. “She went to go visit her parents, I would love for you to meet her.” He said.

“Aww, look at you all in love and shit,” You say with a smile. “So, you think about her when you do illegal shit?” 

“Of course, all the damn time. I fear that maybe one day it’ll come back to bite me in the ass. The money I earn by doing what I do is what got us this house and anything she asks for, which she makes it clear she doesn’t care for. But to me, it’s what she deserves.” Nanami explains. “So of course, all of this shit sits heavy in my mind especially when she’s pregnant.”

“Nanami! She’s pregnant too! Oh my god, we need to plan a baby shower too!” You said in excitement. 

“She doesn’t know that I know,” Nanami says as he watches you give him a confused look. “I know her so well that I can tell when something is up. She was eating a fucking banana one morning, she hates them things. Then I found the test in the trash.” 

“And you haven’t talked to her about it?” You questioned.

“No, she has me reading this book she likes and I’m pretty sure by the time I get to the very last page of the book, it’s going to have a sticky note on a page stating she’s pregnant,” Nanami explained. “Books are kinda our thing.” 

Nanami looked at you and he let out a sigh. “Please don’t cry, what I said wasn’t even that sad.” 

You didn’t even notice that your eyes began to water at the way Nanami described his relationship with his fiancé. You went up to wipe your eyes before speaking, “Please let me at least throw you two an engagement dinner. It can be a surprise for her, I’ll even let you take the credit for it.” 

“Toji was right. You never let anything go. Fine.” Nanami threw his hands up in defeat. “We’re all done here, I’m sure Toji is on his way to come to pick you up.” Nanami stood up extending his hand for you to take which you did letting him help you up with grace.

“Thanks for this. I feel like a Charlie’s Angel now.” You giggled before following him up the stairs. You took note of how Nanami’s and his fiancé's house was decorated. It felt so homey and welcoming. You knew that the two of them would be wonderful parents. 

Nanami heard a horn honk outside his house. He would look at you, “You ever shot a gun before?” 

“Of course not. I’m a stripper,” You responded bluntly.

“Well, you’re gonna have to learn. I may have to talk to Toji about it first, but I think it’s for the best and your safety,” Nanami explained as he was walking towards the front door. 

“Do your fiancé know how to?” You asked out of curiosity. 

“She’s a military brat, of course, she does,” Nanami says as he opens the door. The two of you saw Toji waiting outside in his freshly cleaned jet-black Benz truck. The sun was out and he had the tinted windows down so you two were able to see him. 

He sat on the driver’s side with a pair of Ray Bans on with a white t-shirt. You could even see his muscles flex with just the littlest movement while he was waiting. Sometimes you found yourself staring at him due to his attractive looks. He always had you feeling all hot when you weren’t supposed to. Having to remember that getting attached wasn’t the best thing considering the things that were going on. However, you couldn’t just let the way he stared at you on some occasions just get brushed under the rug. Sooner or later, you had a feeling that either he was going to make a move or you were going to get too impatient with him and make the move yourself. 

“Wow, she gets even cooler the more I hear about her. Remember, let me do the planning for this dinner and you take the credit. I’ll keep you posted. Thank you for today Kento,” You would smile at him as you walked down the pathway towards Toji’s car. 

As you got closer, you would smile at Toji. “The training session went well,” You spoke as you got into the passenger side of the car. You could hear the baby babbles in the back of the car. 

Toji begins driving towards his house. “I have been doing some thinking,” He says. His hand grasped at the steering wheel before he’s tugging the shades off his eyes to get a better look at the road.

“It better not be another little Zenin-Fushiguro favor. You and Naoya are driving me insane,” You folded your arms over your chest. “For now on little Megumi is the only one I will do favors for.” You joked causing Toji to chuckle.

“Oh, so you’re in debt with Megumi now?” He asked.

“Maybe,” You laughed. “But seriously, what were you thinking about? It better not be to talk me out of this charity ball. I can’t pass up the opportunity to get more information about my father’s whereabouts and wear that gorgeous dress.” You admitted.

And you wanted to see him. You haven’t seen that man that Naoya suspected of being the head of the Endo yakuza gang in months. The last time you saw him, he paid you so much money before just disappearing and it frustrated you that you didn’t even know his name. Just knew he was handsome, pretty powerful, and had a thick wallet. 

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the charity ball. I have to trust Naoya to keep you safe during the ball since I’m not invited to it,” Toji explained. “He knows clearly that if something happens to you, I would kill him,” Toji said with a grin.

The grin he had on his face showed you that he was extremely serious about what he said. 

“Well, what were you thinking about?” You asked as you looked at him. 

“Let me cook for you tonight.” Toji firmly said as he stopped at a red light. His eyes glanced over at you waiting for a response.

“You cooking?” You asked as you met his gaze.

“I know how to cook a few things,” Toji pointed out. “I was going to suggest going out for dinner, but I thought this was better to get to know each other some more.” 

“I would love that Toji,” You said with a smile that he returned. 

“Great!” Toji says. “But if it’s gross, you have to be honest with me and tell me.” He sighs.

“Oh believe me, I will!” You said out loud. “But I’m sure it can’t be that bad, just make it with love,” You said. “That’s what my mom used to tell me when she cooked for me.” 

“And if I do and it’s still nasty?” Toji asked as he stopped at a red light.

“Then we order carry out,” You said with a laugh. “You can’t go wrong with that, right?” You flashed him a grin that he would slyly return before continuing down the street in his nice car.

When you returned to Toji’s house, evening settled the Fushiguro household quickly. While the moon shined down on the luxury mansion, you found yourself showering and changing into something more comfortable. You followed the savory scent of food back downstairs, you could even hear Megumi’s babbling as he was in the playpen playing with his toys. The loud sound of his baby drum set attempted to overpower the sound of Toji cooking in the kitchen. When you stepped into the kitchen, you washed your hands glancing at Toji who was reading from a cookbook (that you didn’t even know he had).  “Do you need me to help?” You asked and you watch as Toji’s eyes averted from the pages of the book to you. 

“I think, I have it handled.” 

“You think?” You asked and he gave you a blank look before closing the book he was reading through.

“Please cut those onions over there for me, I’ll greatly appreciate it.” He flashed you a kind smile that made you chuckle. 

“You got it, chef,” You jokingly say before you’re doing the task he asked you to do. 

The two of you basking in each other silence. The only sounds that occupied the first level of Toji’s home were Megumi’s chaotic noise of him drumming on his toys and the sound of something boiling. “So, I think we should throw Kento and his fiance an engagement dinner,” You said out loud.

“It’s a little late for that, they’ve been engaged for a while now.” Toji stirred what was in the pot he was boiling. 

“I know, but I’m just learning of the engagement. I think it’ll be a nice gesture even though I told him, I’ll say it was all his idea.” You explained. “Plus, it’ll be fun for everyone to whine down once in a while. Which I understand, you guys have dangerous things to handle—” 

Your rambling was interrupted by Toji. “If that’s what you want to do for him and his fiance, do it. I kinda took you away from your job to help me and I understand you’re probably bored as hell. So, if planning a dinner party for the lovebirds would cure your boredom, go for it. Just please let me know when you want to go out and look at venues and such, just so I can make sure someone takes you.” Toji explained. 

“It’s what Kento deserves. I’m happy that he’s happy, so it’s on me. You know where to find me if you need the card,” Toji told you before he went back to stirring the substance in the pot. 

“Urgh, I’m never going to get out of debt with you.” You said jokingly while cutting up the onions.

“You are, we just need to figure out this situation with the Endo gang,” He says. “But no debt talk tonight, this is supposed to be me cooking for you,” Toji says as he lowered the flame on what was on the stove. He took a couple of steps forward to collect the knife from your hand, his hand lightly brushing against yours while he took it. “I got it from here, just relax, and please see if it’s another toy Megumi can play with. The little rockstar is giving me a headache with the banging,” He lightly nudged you towards the exit of the kitchen, eventually going back to his Gyudon recipe he was trying to cook. 

You did what you were told, letting your feet be met with the grey-colored rug in the living room that contrasted the living room sofas very well. You walked towards the playpen where Megumi was continuing to bang on his toy drum set. You wanted to assume either Gojo or Geto brought him that toy, you felt like those two were the type to buy the nosiest toy for the baby just to spite Toji. You leaned over to collect the toy, but you watched as Megumi's green hues stared up at you before he’s extending his arms for you to pick him up. His baby hands sprouting outward and his fingers wiggling with an innocent doe-eyed look just so you can embrace him. 

“Do not pick him up! He does that look when he’s ready to get out of the playpen!” You heard Toji say, but his statement was too late since you already scooped Megumi up in your arms. 

You held him closely while the scent of baby powder and Toji linger up your nose. It was a pleasant scent that you had grown accustomed to within your time of living here. Your hand caressed his head feeling his soft dark hair as she was waltzing around the living room with him in your arms. He was laying perfectly on your chest with his pacifier in his mouth before you walked into the kitchen with him. 

“You picked him up?” Toji said as he tugged out dishes from the cabinet. 

The smell of nicely seasoned beef now swirled around the kitchen as you were holding Megumi. “He gave me a look and I couldn’t resist.” Your lips form a cute pout. “Look at the green eyes, you can’t say no to that Toji.” You said.

“Was it this look?” Toji mimics the same look Megumi gave you for you to pick him up. It took you by shock to see the striking resemblance between the two. Obviously, they were going to look alike, but their shared green-colored eyes were what caused your heart to feel heavy. 

“Yes.” You answered as you sat Megumi on the kitchen island. 

“Where’d you think he learned it from?” Toji chuckled as he exit the kitchen to go set the table. 

As you stood in the kitchen with Megumi who was toying with the diamond pendant from the necklace Toji gave you, you felt a sense of home. The soft feeling of being comfortable around Toji and Megumi was a feeling you never experienced before. It was like finally being able to unclench your jaw and relax your shoulders after having your guide up your whole day. You felt safe here. 

Even though once your tasks were over with and your debt was cleared up, you would have to unravel yourself from them. And the thought of that hurt. 

“So much for getting attached, huh?” You asked yourself lowly and Megumi only glanced up at you leaning his head to the side like a confused puppy. 

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Kamen Rider Thunderbirds Chapter 3 (Bit 5 End)

Prologue, Bit 1, Bit 2 Updated, Bit 3, Bit 4 

Finaaaly! I finished Chapter 3! :D

Big thank you for @janetm74 for the beta read, thank you @myladykayo for helping me through the story. Tagging @willow-salix, @katblu42, @gumnut-logic and @dreamycloud)

So let’s end this chapter, right? :)

-0-0-0-

“So you are saying that you’ve been attacked by some unknown monsters?” Jeff asked, his fingers gripping the paper. The bandaged up boys nodded.

“Yeah. And we believed it was a set up." Virgil pointed out.

"It seemed like deliberate sabotage by those… things, so we came in and fell into their trap." Scott theorized. He continued explaining: in fact, the way the fires started was suspicious, the flames appeared in random parts of the building, according to the recent investigations. And according to the testimonies of the rescuees who were trapped underground, the humanoid fire-monsters appeared out of nowhere and they are the ones who started the whole fires, and then… they were simply waiting. The field commander finished that the poor fellas acted as bait for the monsters to finish him and his brothers off.

"Long story short: they were after our heads apparently." Gordon concluded.

Their father had a look of extreme concern. To think those threats with impossible yet fantastic power to bring down a building were after his sons was very alarming and pose a threat to their lives and security. Here he thought that time where they had to save the world from a mind-controlling alien sphere was a close call!

"Thank heavens the Kamen Riders came and saved us!" Alan chirped, his ocean eyes sparkled like stars with memories.

"Yes. You guys are very lucky. And those rescuees as well." Agreed Jeff, "However, we don’t know if we could trust those bug-eyed warriors.”

“But dad! They saved us!” Argued the youngster, “They saved us from these creatures! I am pretty sure they are our allies! Friends even!”

"Alan! We don't even know who they are!" Pointed out Gordon.

The young blonde crossed his arms and gave the most dramatic pout. Jeff sighed, gently shaking his head with a slight sympathetic smile, “They may be on our side now, but we still don’t know what their intentions are. Especially when they got those… other-worldly powers. So take their alliance with caution.” he said sternly.

The brothers nodded in agreement, including Alan who simply cocked his head to the side. They did tell John about the whole thing, in which the middle brother had mixed feelings. Concerned, relieved and interested. But mostly worried.

After the debrief, the atmosphere was a lingering silent worry.

“Hey kiddo, don’t be upset.” Gordon smiled optimistically.

“You sure?” Huffed his youngest brother.

“Yeah. As much as I am suspicious about them, I am also curious.” his innocent smile turned into a cheeky smirk.

Alan’s grumpy face slowly transformed into that of an excited gremlin that the redhead knew and loved, “Alright! How about we go talk to Brains? See what he thinks of this rescue.”

Gordon grinned, “Right behind ya, Sprout!”

And soon enough, the terrible two vanished through the door of the lounge, their excited feet echoed through the halls.

“What do you think of the Kamen Riders, Scott?” asked Virgil, placing a gentle hand on his older brother’s shoulder. 

Scott shrugged, “I don’t know.” He was mostly worried about those monsters. Those… things. What are they after? Why do they want International Rescue dead? Of course it was only one time, but what if they do it again? He was beginning to feel dread. Being possessed by an alien was bad enough, but almost getting burned alive by monstrous animal-headed gladiators with powers to control fire was out of the question!

“You know, I do have a hunch that our bug-eyed acquaintances are on our side.” admitted Virgil, “But, I also have a feeling that we’ll meet them again, considering the circumstances.”

Scott looked back at his brother. Sky blue meets earthly brown. There was a silent conversation. An understanding. And then a nod from the eldest brother. They sat there in compassionate silence.

The quiet must’ve been killing his brother, because all of the sudden the mechanic asked, “Say, would you like to play the piano again?”

“Why’s that?” Scott raised a brow.

“My fingers are sore from fixing the Mole in a rush back there.” Virgil smiled with a little embarrassment, as he revealed his bandaged hands.

Scott gently tapped his brother’s shoulder with a chuckle. He got up from the couch and walked over to Virgil’s beloved white piano. He sat on the stool once more, opened the lid and stretched his fingers, “What should I play?” 

“Anything, I don’t mind.” His musical brother shrugged, standing beside him.

As Scott thought which song to play, his mind drifted back to the moment when he looked into the eyes of the golden Rider. It seemed to him that there was something warm behind those bug-eyes… something human. Scott wondered if there's a sensitive soul behind that mask.

Maybe it was just in his mind, maybe it was not true, but it made him relax. Pressing the keys, he began playing a familiar, jazzy beat as he remembered that moment. After a few repeats of the rhyme, he went to the main part of the song.

“Ah, my favorite! Take Five!" Jeff exclaimed, "Just like you guys.” he chuckled.

Scott smiled at his father as a response. There were some remnants of his stress, but it didn't bother him as much as he was in the morning. Jeff gave him a relieved nod before continuing doing paperwork, quietly humming and tapping his foot to the beat. Virgil smiled widely at his brother before humming as well and snapping his fingers along with the melody of the immortal piece of Paul Desmond.

Scott jumped into improvising like he was here to woo the girls at a party. As he was playing, he thought back of their victory. And his tension melted away. Outside the villa, the soothing music echoed through the beautiful nature of the island and into the night sky.

-0-0-0-

The moon shone in the night sky and the cold was a constant companion. The sounds of distant cars driving through the streets could be heard from the top of the skyscrapers. On one of them stood four figures, taking their time enjoying the view from above.

The Kamen Riders were resting after the heated fight. Gills was leaning on a wall next to the entrance, between his legs lay his loyal dog. G3-X was finishing writing a report of the fight on his custom laptop. Kuuga was laying on top of the entrance, admiring the stars. And Agito was standing near the railing, staring into the lights of the city.

"Oi, Agito!" called Kuuga all of a sudden. The golden Rider turned to his best friend.

"Nando(What is it)?" asked Agito.

"Why wouldn’t you come up here and watch the stars?” suggested the red Rider, "It's beautiful up there."

"How can you see stars from here?" objected G3-X, "Ya can't see Shiitake with all those slagging city lights!"

"They can see them through their visors," scoffed Gills, making the robocop Rider whistle a sound of realization before turning back to his computer. 

Raider looked up and tilted his head as if trying to see them, but after a few moments he gave up as he put his canine head back to the ground.

Agito had taken a moment to stare at the city, then moved towards the entrance, climbed and sat next to Kuuga.

"Not too cold buddy?” the red Rider asked, only to receive a shake of the head from his golden companion. The two took a moment to appreciate the stars in the cold night sky. Few stars faintly glowed in the dark sky.

"Man, can't believe we just met with International Rescue in person!" excitedly said Kuuga, "I gotta say, they are quite tough guys, ne? Especially Noodle, he looks quite young!"

"Noodle?" asked the golden rider in confusion.

"The blond kid! The one I saved from falling into a ravine and returned the gun to?" Kuuga sensed Agito raising an eyebrow that cannot be seen from the cover of his mask. "We should give them nicknames. To… you know, to know who's who we're talking about?" He explained, shrugging.

A sparkle of mirth could be faintly seen behind the faceted eyes of his friend, a warm smile could be felt radiating from his breath. "Sure...But why the blond kid 'Noodle'?"

"Because his blonde hair reminded me of noodles. And to be honest, 'Noodle' sounds kawaii~! Don’t you think he looks kawaii, ne?” A big grin was radiating from behind the mask of the red Rider. Agito laughed wholeheartedly. Kuuga continued, "The auburn hair guy; I think we'll call him 'Kuma'! He looks so serious, strong and tough, like a bear! Remind me of someone…"

The golden Rider laughed again as he nodded. "So um… shall we call the leader 'Sky Eyes'?"

Kuuga rubbed his silver chin for a bit, "Hmm…the one who pilots that big-hyper-speedy-rocket-jet thingy? Why's that?" he asked.

"Because… his eyes reminded me of the sky...” The red Rider saw the sparkling human eyes behind Agito’s red bug-like lens. Kuuga nodded, agreeing that the name was well suited for the blue sashed commander.

"What about the redhead guy? What should we call him?" asked G3-X as he looked up at the two Riders, seemingly curious.

"Clownfish..." Gills dropped the answer. There was an awkward pause. "He smelled fishy..." He deadpanned. Everyone laughed, acknowledging his typical 'I don't care, deal with it' attitude as they accepted his answer.

"Noodle, Kuma, Sky Eyes and Clownfish. Sounds good for our mystery gang of rescuers!" Kuuga clapped and rubbed his hands excitingly

Agito chuckled softly before looking back at the stars once more. The more he stared at the little faint glistening lights, the more the made him think of sky… sky eyes… the man whose eyes were always drawn to the sky.

He felt a warm feeling as he remembered those cobalt irises. He wondered why he felt like that. He barely knows that man, let alone the fact that International Rescue seemed to keep themselves secret. Maybe he'll never know. But one thing for sure, they'll cross paths again. Because of those things...

Those kaijins… they were new. He had never seen them before. And they are as aggressive and dangerous as disasters. Agito… Yuuki sensed that whatever they were, they seemed to be after International Rescue. But for what? And why?

The answer will remain unknown, for now...

-tbc-

[yikeswtfmate]

Paranoia

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main masterlist

Paranoia - Players take it in turn to whisper questions to each other, but the responder has to say the answer out loud. If one of the players can't take the suspense and wants to know what the question was, they have to drink to earn the knowledge.

Summary: The gang plays Paranoia. Y/N needs to know the question (and the one time she got the answer).

Warnings: alcohol consumption; swearing; thirst

A/N: imma just leave this here and show myself out

A/N2: i would just like to thank @the-chocolate-moose​ for not only being the best beta reader in existence, but also for supporting me and loving this series more than me sometimes; she’s the one who knows bonky bonk like no other, so all the soft bean moments were entirely suggested by her; this part would not be what it is rn without her, so thank you i love you

Y/N is the most curious person in the group; so it’s no wonder then that she’s always the first to get piss drunk whenever they play Paranoia. Nat would be a close second, but unlike Y/N, she knows to hold her liquor.

Y/N, however, is now splayed sideways on Bucky’s lap, trying to convince herself that she does not need to know what Clint just asked Steve that would result in him saying “Oh, yeah, definitely Bucky. I’ve seen all of yours at that party. I’m 100% sure.”

If Bucky’s smirk and Sam’s scoff wouldn’t be indication enough, Buck just pats her thigh to keep on to her water bottle. Y/N’s eyes round up just a fraction, which makes him laugh even harder. She nudges him with her elbow, asking for his attention again after he’s turned to watch the game unfold. Nat is laughing at Steve’s question, and informs him she already told him that on his birthday.

Y/N hikes up on Bucky, until they’re at face level. Her palms land on his cheeks a little more roughly than he’d like, and the plastic tiara he’s wearing slips a bit lower on his head. She squeezes his face, leaning forward until their noses are touching, eyes narrowed – probably trying to concentrate on not slurring.

“Boy, are you telling me that you are packing and I had no idea about this until now?”

Bucky laughs out loud now, bumping his nose to hers. His arm goes around her waist and settles her back down onto his lap. Someone yells “gross” at them and a cushion comes flying to their faces, but Bucky easily catches it with his free hand. He doesn’t even look away from Y/N.

“I don’t know your bra size either.” He shrugs.

“You can fucking see my bra size. I can’t see your dick.”

“Do you want to?”

The question would make Y/N’s breath stop in her throat if she were sober, but fortunately for both of them, neither is. Y/N has been asked many questions that night, probably more than anyone else, and surprisingly, there were still many things Bucky didn’t know about her. Like how flexible she can get in bed, which apparently is a lot. So he blames the alcohol for being maybe a little bit horny, a little bit curious, a little bit…reckless.

“Don’t tempt me if you’re not gonna come through.” She growls.

The pout she pulls makes her bottom lip stick out, her tongue darting out to wet it. Bucky’s eyes follow the movement and they fixate on the long line of saliva glistening on the pink flesh. His fingers unconsciously squeeze her thigh, unaware of how high above her knee it came to rest.

“Who said I wouldn’t?”

If Bucky were sober right now, he’d laugh at how incredibly easy it is to get Y/N going. The grunt she lets out and the way her legs press together force his hand to move even higher. There’s too much heat coming off of her, and her eyes dart from his lips to his jaw, to his neck, his chest and slowly over his arm fixed between her legs. He wonders for a brief second whether they should just untangle themselves, blame it on the alcohol and never speak of this again, until she whines the softest ‘please,’ a low sound that only he can hear. They look at each other then, a shared unspoken question, and he doesn’t need more than the deep exhale she lets out.

Bucky picks Y/N up, one swift motion that doesn’t get noticed by anyone around them – the first time he couldn’t be more thankful for Thor’s weird alcohol that gets everyone drunk instantly. She whispers in his ear, making him clench his jaw in concentration. Bucky had no idea his best friend could be this filthy. He needs to close the bedroom door as fast as possible, or he might burst into flames when her fingers are suddenly under his t-shirt, scratching lightly at his skin.

He’s very aware of the way her breath hitches in her throat when he throws her unceremoniously on his bed. He stops for a second to look her up and down, hair splayed all around her burning face, and her chest rises and falls rapidly under what he realises now is a very flimsy top. He notices how it rides up on her abdomen, a flash of skin that he’s never consciously gave much thought, and he’s suddenly on top of her, breathing in her air. Their lips are inches away from each other, his right hand is clutching at her waist, and her fingers easily find his biceps.

A moment of silence, her lips parted, and his mouth is on her neck, sucking and licking at the soft skin. She’s moaning, and he can swear he’s never heard anything sweeter in his entire goddamned life.

“Bucky.” She whimpers, and scratch that, this is the most delicious sound he’s ever heard.

“Baby.” He breathes into her skin. “My baby.”

He leans back in order to help her take off his top, but this time he doesn’t laugh at how she sighs like always when she sees him topless. He’s too focused on ridding her of her own clothes, nearly ripping the front buttons. Bucky has seen Y/N in her bra too many times to count by now, but never like this. Never with hooded eyes and glistening lips, never while whispering his name like that.

So he crashes his mouth to hers – and although this has also happened before, it never felt like this. He’s never taken the time to savour it, to taste her lips, her tongue, to steal her moans and whimpers. He feels dizzy, but her nails digging into his back help him focus. Her heels dig into his thighs, pulling him closer until she can rut against him and he doesn’t need to see the sweatpants she’s wearing in order to know that she’s soaked them through. They’re his, he realises with a smirk.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” She moans as his fingers slip under the straps of her bra, his lips on her chest, lower, lower until his teeth graze over the soft round flesh. “Oh God, why haven’t we done this until now? Fuck. James. Please.”

Bucky nearly chokes. He raises his head to look at her and she’s right there – right underneath him: his best friend that he’s known for years and years, eyes blown, biting her bottom lip, hands in his hair, and moaning his name like she’s never done before.

“Baby, are you sure about this?” He asks, suddenly hit by the realisation of what they are about to do.

“Fuck!” She growls. “Buck, baby, do you really think I can think straight right now?”

Y/N leans back on her elbows, breasts right in front of his eyes, and fuck he has never wanted anyone more in his entire fucking life. She takes a look at him and with a sigh falls back onto the bed. Her hands rub at her eyes, muttering under breath, but her legs can’t stop writhing. Bucky places a hand on her thigh, silently asking her to stop, because god fucking dammit he might just cum only from watching her breasts move like that.

The moment Y/N feels him squeeze her leg, warmth seeping through, burning her skin, she makes up her mind. Fuck it, they’ve been friends for so long, they’ve done a lot of shit together, what’s one more stupid mistake?

“Baby.” She whispers, pulling him back over her. A shiver runs down his spine and it has nothing to do with her nails dragging his jaw closer. “Promise me this won’t make us weird. You’ll still be my best friend tomorrow, alright?”

“I promise.” He murmurs, his lips right over hers. “I promise I’ll still love you more than anyone else, I promise.”

She nods rapidly and it’s done. There’s no turning back now.

“Now let me make you feel good, baby. Let me give you what you need.”

Y/N doesn’t even have time to moan his name like she wants to, because the door flies open right when Bucky’s fingers start to unclasp her bra. They didn’t fucking lock the goddamned door.

“Hey, asshole, I need your charger?!” Sam stops in his tracks, voice rising to the level of a high-pitched squeal by the time he processes what he’s seeing.

Bucky is the first to react and he immediately grabs the blanket off the bed, doing his best to cover Y/N up. She squeaks from somewhere under him, but he won’t move until he’s sure Sam can’t see her in her bra – which is stupid, because he’s seen her more than enough times in a bikini, but this is different, goddammit.

“Oh man, if you’re doing what I think you’re doing, Imma get $1000 richer tonight.” Sam cackles.

Bucky finally stands up, throws whatever’s next to him at Sam’s head, trying to usher him out. A lot of laughing, stupid jokes and innuendos later, Bucky manages to close the door and lock it behind him. Turning back towards the bed with a sigh, he sees Y/N sitting cross-legged in the middle of it. She’s put on his t-shirt, and she’s watching him with a grin on her face that still looks a bit dopey.

“We’re never going to live this down, are we?”

Bucky lets out a snort and lays next to her, forehead propped to her knee. Her fingers immediately brush his hair away from his face and he feels as if he’s just woken up from a drug-addled trance.

“I think the moment’s gone, babe.”

“It’s alright, love.” He sighs again. “I think it’s for the best.”

She’s still stroking his hair, as she lays on the bed next to him until they’re face to face. He grabs her hand and interlaces their fingers, needing her to look at him.

“I love you. I can’t afford to lose you because of a drunken mistake.” He whispers.

“It’s alright, baby. I agree.”

A second later, she starts giggling. “Plus, you wanna experience all this sober, when I know exactly what to do to you. HD 4K 27 inch Terminator Glock 47G Blue Steel.”

Bucky looks at her confused at what the fuck she’s saying, then bursts out laughing. “You’re such a fucking dork.”

“With an ass that don't stop, an ass that don’t stop, and think about how I'm gonna feel when I take it all off.” She hums – a song that soon turns into a soft snore.

“Dumbass.” Bucky whispers, but he’s soon fast asleep as well.

***

A/N: *cue The Bad Touch by Bloodhound Gang*

***

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[yoongi-sugaglider]

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, blood, gun shot wounds, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count: 2172

A/n: Omgg I am soooo sorry!! I forgot to add a read more T.T I fixed it I promise!!!

Part 13===Part 14===Part 15

Jungkook was blind fury and rage, seeking those that'd dare harm what was his. He stalked through the halls, all caution thrown to the wayside as he mowed down body after body heading his way. It wasn’t the infected he was looking for though. 

“SEO EUN KWANG!!!” Jungkook’s voice rang through the hotel lobby, echoing in the empty expanse as he stopped in the center of the empty space to stare around.

“You know Boss…” A condescending voice drew his attention to the check in desk, “I never really wanted things to go down like this…”

Jungkook drew his gun to center mass, face a mask of emotionless disinterest at the man’s words. “Minhyuk and Sungjae are dead.” He growled the words out, vision tinted red at the corners as he watched Eun Kwang sigh and shake his head.

“I told them to take the night off. They weren’t even supposed to be at the warehouse. But you know how it is. Balancing out a mutiny with an apocalypse is just never going to go in anyone’s favor.”

“A fucking mutiny? What the hell is this, Pirates of the fucking Caribbean? You betrayed me Eun Kwang. After everything you fucking sell out piece of low end garbage. Not only that, you got HER shot.”

The older man shook his head once more with a laugh, leaning forward to place his elbows on the checkout desk’s high wall and tap at his temple with his gun. “Little dongsaeng, it was always in the cards for this to happen. You were just too blind to see that one little boy from Busan could never handle running the entirety of Daegu. You dreamed big, yeah. But kid, this city was just too big for you.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” Jungkook stalked forward, arms never wavering as he sighted the gun right for the center of Eun Kwang’s forehead. “I never wanted to run this whole town. You fuckers put that on me. I just wanted to make enough to get by. Make sure my girl had everything she needed. None of that included taking over a damn thing!”

“Easy there little cowboy. Another step closer and my boys are gonna have to protect me and the last thing I wanna do is end up killing you.” Eun Kwang smirked as Jungkook halted in place, eyes darting around to spot three men stepping from the shadows, each with their guns aimed at him and almost manic grins gracing their faces.

***

Pain.

Everything was pain and screaming.

“You’ve got to get her to wake up!”

I couldn’t help but to groan, hands reaching out to grab the nearest person as I fought against the pressure held against my outer thigh.

“It hurts...make it stop it hurts!” I whimpered, blurry gaze taking in the worried faces of Seokjin and Yoongi who were working to hold me down. Rose’s face appeared above me, panicked as she shushed me and pressed down on my forehead to keep me still.

We were in a room of some sort, no longer in the hotel kitchen so I couldn’t be sure how long I’d been out cold. Cleaning supplies surrounded us but the pain in my chest and leg kept me from being able to take in any more information as Yoongi had renewed the pressure on the molten mass of ouch that was my thigh.

“Can’t...breath…” I whimpered out.

“Release the straps on her vest. The ceramic plates will have shattered, if she’s got any broken ribs it’s gonna get a lot worse for her.” The voice in my ear crackled to life, startling me as I struggled for a moment to register Jimin’s calm tones whispering in my ear.

Seokjin released my uninjured leg, moving to lift my upper body. The pressure on my chest increased, blinding me for a moment as my lungs decided they didn’t want to work. I stared up at the ceiling, mouth open in a silent scream and tears chasing each other down my cheeks as Jin unzipped my jacket and fumbled to release the straps that’d been holding my tactical vest together.

As the straps released air whooshed into my lungs and I let out a sob of relief, though it didn’t last long as a strange shifting in my chest caused more pain to shoot through me.

“F...fuck…” I coughed, turning my head in Rose’s lap and shutting my eyes as a wave of dizziness rolled over me.

“Alright, once she’s breathing better shift those plates around and strap her back in.” Jimin’s voice came again and I turned my head towards Jin, eyes wide as I shook my head desperately to stop him. But it didn’t matter, and deep down I knew it as Jin pulled the straps tight and snapped them back into place. The pressure was a bit better, but damn did it hurt.

“Yoongi, have you got your silencer barrel on you?”

Yoongi grunted in reply, turning with one hand still holding pressure on my leg as he unscrewed the barrel from his sniper rifle. 

“I’d tell you to fire off a round or two but...not now…”

“I know what you’re gonna say…” Yoongi shifted upwards on his knees, placing the silencer on my chest for a moment and digging into his pocket. His hand reappeared and I watched on in a confused haze of pain and worry.

He nodded to Jin who groaned to himself as he picked up the silencer and held it delicately out to Yoongi. The silent assassin reached out, flicking a lighter and producing a flame that licked at the cold steel of the barrel.

My eyes widened in panic and I began to struggle, knowing deep down exactly what they were about to do.

“Keep her still.” Yoongi growled and Rose rushed to comply.

She grabbed my flailing arms, pinning them down to my sides as she shifted forward to keep a better hold on me.

Me struggling didn’t matter.

The pain no longer mattered.

The...the smell of my own flesh searing didn’t matter.

Only the bliss of one final scream chased closely by unconsciousness.

***

“Oh god…” Rose retched, losing her grip on the limp woman as Yoongi continued his grim work.

It really took no more than a moment to cauterize the bullet wound. It stretched less than 3 inches along the expanse of her outer thigh, but the blood loss alone would have caused quite an issue later on, not to mention the risk of infection. Yoongi treated the wound as best he could, wrapping it in the remains of the shirt Jungkook had tossed them before they’d locked themselves inside the supply closet of the hotel. 

Seokjin sniffed, covering his nose with the back of his wrist as he stared forlorn down at the cold sweat that glistened from the unconscious form of one of his favorite people. He shook his head, grinding his teeth before tapping the inner earpiece to signal to Jimin they’d finished the work.

The haggard doctor sighed through the communication device. “She should be safe to move. Just try not to jostle her ribs too much. I take it what Yoongi did made her pass out?” 

Rose whimpered, fingernails digging painful crescents into the palms of her hands as she struggled to regain control of the tears flowing down her cheeks. True, she’d been desperate for rescue the moment the news started rambling about people eating each other but...this? This wasn’t what she’d hoped for. She’d never wanted any of them getting hurt.

“I’ll hand things over to Tae, I’ve got to go get the infirmary prepped for when you guys get here. Try not to get hurt in the meantime…”

Yoongi grunted, eyes focused in on the hasty bandages as if waiting for them to bleed through. Taehyung’s voice returned, strained as if he’d been crying though none of them commented on his tone of voice.

“Alright, I’ve got visuals on Boss and Hoseok. The alley looks clear from this angle, along with the side streets that’ll lead you guys back in this direction.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Boss, I know you want to go after them...but we’ve got to get her back home. Yoongi hyung and Jin hyung could manage it solo but not without risking getting hurt or worse..infected…”

There was a brief moment of silence before Hoseok’s voice crackled over the line. “We��re headed back. Get ready to move out.” 

Yoongi nodded to the two figures either side of him, tucking the silencer barrel into a side pocket on his black cargo pants before handing the rifle itself over to Seokjin.

The trio were silent aside from the occasional sniffle from Rose but eventually they managed to pack as much as they could away, checking to ensure their weapons were all reloaded in the process. 

Yoongi worked gingerly, lifting y/n’s limp form into his arms bridal style and turning to nod to Jin. A single tap to the earpiece and the others were alerted that they were ready to move out and head home.

***

“Hobi hush. I’ve already told you none of the wounds are life threatening. If you wake the Boss I swear to all the high heavens that I’m blaming it on you and running.”

The whispering voices woke me, a welcome balm to the chaos that had been my nightmares.

Before opening my eyes and alerting them to my consciousness I took a moment to take stock of what I was feeling. The throbbing in my leg had gone away, probably due to whatever medication Jimin had managed to get in me. The weight alone let me know that it’d been treated and wrapped, though the weight in my chest hadn’t eased much.

I groaned, shifting a bit in an attempt to get a bigger breath of air. This got the attention of the two whispering voices which quickly stopped talking followed by the distinctive sound of shuffling bodies. After a moment a small hand slipped around mine, lifting it slightly as Jimin’s voice followed.

“Hey Boss Lady, you waking up?”

I peeled my eyelids open, one at a time before blinking to clear the blur and focusing on the two concerned faces hovering over me.

“Mmm...think I’m awake, though somehow I feel like I should be far more grateful for that stockpile of pain meds you like to keep around.”

Jimin gave me a shaky grin and a sniffle from beside him caught my attention. Lifting my head slightly I caught the sight of a forlorn Hoseok, eyes puffy and the normally sunshine glow of his grin nowhere to be seen. I let go of Jimin’s hand, fingers wiggling to catch Hobi’s attention.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m okay I promise.”

The poor boy whimpered, lower lip sticking out as he grabbed my hand in both of his. Closing his eyes he leaned forward, forehead pressed to my fingers as he sniffled his way out of the tears.

“Don’t...don’t do that to me again Boss Lady. I don’t like it when you get hurt….” 

I shook my head, giving a short laugh that only served to leave my head swimming as whatever was going wrong with my ribs shifted. “Ho...boy…” Releasing Hobi’s hand I arched my back as best I could, inhaling deeply and wincing as something strange popped in my chest.

“Alright now.” Jimin muttered, pushing me back down onto the bed with a frown. “I know it’s hard to breathe, but try not to breathe too deeply. You want those ribs to heal up properly you’re gonna wanna give them a chance to settle back where they belong.” 

I nodded, though relaxing back to where I’d been laying was harder than I wanted. I glanced to my other side, realising that the reason I hadn’t been able to move that hand was because a pair of incredibly toned arms was wrapped around it and a shaggy head of hair was currently pinning it to the bed.

I turned to the other two boys, arching an eyebrow at them in questioning.

“He hasn’t left your side since you all got back. Course...he hasn’t said much either.” Jimin sighed, rubbing his temples to release some of his pent up stress and then carding a hand through his hair. 

“Mmm… how long was I out?”

“Half a day. The Boss only just passed out about an hour ago though…”

I nodded, gaze returning sadly to the softly snoring form beside me. My heart ached for him, even knowing I was the one injured not him. I waved my hand, giving the two boys a soft smile to let them know I’d be alright on my own.

They left, Hobi sniffling the whole way as Jimin softly closed the door behind him. It was better to let Jungkook sleep. Things would run just fine without him for a while.

[severetimetravelnerd]

Hatred and Love (ft. G Dragon) Mafia AU

Part 5

Jiyong finally asks you about Jongin.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

Taglist:

@unabashedturkeytreeslime​

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast​

@kwonnansi​

@aarfyie​

If there is anyone else who would like to be tagged, you can comment or leave me a message :))

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Okay, so this is a mafia AU. It has appearances from Daesung, Taeyang, TOP, Mino, Hanbin and EXO (mostly Kai). This continues with the EXO storyline, but again, I have nothing against EXO :)) I love them, but I had to use someone for the plot

Warnings: Violence, Death(not main character), Injury, Blood, Eventual smut, Abduction, Guns and Knives, language, emotional breakdown. This chapter has the beginning of hardcore smut. In this chapter, we have masturbation and slight degradation kink. 

————————————————————————–

Jiyong held you a little closer before he pulled the trigger. Your legs gave way and you fell to the ground. Jiyong quietly knelt next to you and lifted you up in his arms, checking with you to see if it was okay to do that. Your hands were shaking as they wrapped around his neck. You turned around, half scared to see Minhyuk’s body when Jiyong tilted your head back towards him.

 “Don’t Y/N. I’ve made you see enough blood already. You shouldn’t have to see this as well.” 

You didn’t argue with him, just trying to gather yourself. He paused before his door, and hesitantly, he asked,

 “Y/N, I don’t know if you’re okay with staying in this room. If you aren’t, we can go to my room.” 

You gave him a barely perceptible nod for him to go ahead and he took you to his room, gently laying you down on the bed. He was about to move back to give you your space, but he stopped when he heard your soft voice whispering, 

“Jiyong?”

 He sat back down next to you immediately, gently holding your hand.

 “Yes, my love?”

 He didn’t even realise the switch when he called you that. It felt so natural to him. You did though, and you couldn’t stop staring at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking. He looked at you with so much love, but he managed to shoot you. You just couldn’t understand him. He snapped you out of your thoughts when he carefully asked,

 “Y/N, why is EXO’s Jongin looking for you?” 

You raised your eyebrows.

 “EXO? What’s that?” 

Jiyong sighed and leaned back.

 “So, you didn’t know Y/N.”

 You snapped.

 “What didn’t I know Jiyong?!” 

He looked away and mumbled something you couldn’t hear. 

“Jiyong, I can’t hear you.”

 He slowly said, 

“Jongin, your friend, is part of a mafia gang called EXO.” 

You started laughing. Jiyong just stared at you uneasily, not quite knowing what to make of your laughter. 

“Oh my god, why does this kind of stuff have to happen to me? How is it that Jongin is part of the mafia? The Jongin who can barely work a printer on his own?” 

Jiyong just held your hand, knowing that you were actually upset. Calming yourself down, you asked, 

“What role does Jongin have in EXO?” 

Jiyong carefully watched you and said,

 “He’s the guy you go to when you want to get rid of someone discreetly.”

 You shuddered, unable to believe it. You didn’t want to ask, but curiosity got the better of you.

 “Jiyong, who does that here?”

 He raised his eyebrows at you, unable to hide his surprise at your curiosity. He answered with a cautious smile on his face. 

“Seunghyun hyung does.” 

And you know what? Somehow, you weren’t surprised. You had expected it. 

“What does Hanbin do, Jiyong?”

 “Hanbin’s in charge of covering up. Making up a believable cover story for our jobs.” 

You nodded. The two of you sat there in silence for a while, the sound of Jiyong’s breathing and the scent of his cologne comforting you. Jiyong suddenly jumped up, remembering something. He called Daesung.

 “Dae, take care of the body in Y/N’s room. Find out how he got in and up the security. We can’t have something like that happening again.”

 He cut the call and called up Mino.

 “Mino, find out why Jongin is looking for her. Find Hanbin. He was with Jongin. Make sure he’s okay.”

 He looked at your worried face. You were terrified for Hanbin, but you were also scared for Jongin. You knew he lied to you, and you weren’t going to forgive him for that anytime soon, but you still didn’t want him dead. You had seen how ruthless they were.

 “Don’t harm or capture Jongin, even if you can. We don’t want to start a war with EXO.” 

Mino winced and let out a sigh. 

“Hyung, I don’t think that’s going to be possible. Hanbin is fine, and he’s on his way back, but EXO has called for a meeting. All nine of them are going to be there. We don’t have much of a choice this time, Jiyong hyung. They’re saying we’re trying to start a gang war by abducting Jongin’s girlfriend. They’re jumping at this opportunity, because ever since they lost some of the Hongdae area to us, they’ve been looking for an excuse to do this. We’ll all have to go. It’s going to be soon.” 

Jiyong didn’t hear anything Mino said after

 “Jongin’s girlfriend.” 

Jiyong turned to look at you in shock, wondering whether it was true. You looked back at him, wondering what he was thinking about. He didn’t care about anything else. He just wanted to know whether you had lied to him. His voice sounding angry, he said, 

“Y/N, are you dating someone?”

 You don’t know why you didn’t just reply saying, “No.” Maybe it was because he was incredibly hot when he was angry, but you got distracted. Maybe it was because of the adrenaline after the attack. Maybe it was just because you liked him, but you wanted nothing more than to pepper that gorgeous jawline with kisses. You then got distracted by his tattoo, yet again. You couldn’t stop imagining that tattoo on that beautiful skin, glistening with sweat as he lay down next to you after a night well spent. You shook your head to get those thoughts out of your mind. It didn’t work particularly well. All it did was make Jiyong look even angrier. Without meaning to, he moved closer and lowered his voice. 

“Y/N, were you lying to me? Are you with Jongin?” 

Again, because of his proximity to you, you zoned out. Without meaning to, you shivered a little and you had goose bumps running up your hands. It was only when Jiyong moved back, thinking he was scaring you, that you realised he had asked you a question. You turned and looked at him, slightly flushed.

 “I’m sorry Jiyong, I zoned out. What did you say?” 

Jiyong looked a little disappointed. He thought you zoned out thinking about Jongin. He sighed, and said,

 “Although I feel like I already know the answer, I’m just going to ask you one last time. Y/N, are you dating Jongin?”

 You moved a little closer to him, feeling bad that in the process of fantasising about him, you had hurt him.

 “Jiyong, I promise I am not dating Jongin, and neither do I have any interest in doing so.”

 He froze, a slow smirk coming across his face. 

“Say that again Y/N.”

 You said it, looking a little confused. Why was he smirking?

 “I’m not dating anyone.”

 The smirk only deepened.

 “No Y/N. The first part of the sentence. Say that again.” 

You stared at him, confused, until it finally dawned on you. You had said that bit about fantasising about him out loud. You turned red. You blushed, trying to look for an escape from the incredibly embarrassing situation you were in. He leaned in really close, smiling and said,

 “As much as I would love to do all that and more, right now, I have to go attend a meeting, and before I leave, we need to discuss a few things.” 

You couldn’t hide the disappointed look on your face as he moved away. He reached for your hand and kissed it. 

“I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” 

But then his face turned serious. 

“Y/N, I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me, because for the first time in my life, I’m going to be honest with someone.”

 You nodded.

 “Y/N, why is EXO saying you’re Jongin’s girlfriend?” 

You shook your head. 

“I honestly don’t know. I mean, yeah, he used to flirt with me, but that was just friendly flirting. He was always like that. It was never serious.”

 “So, you never said yes to him, right?” 

You nodded in agreement.

 “Do you like him?”

 You just turned to him incredulously.

 “Jiyong, I literally just said I was fantasising about you. What more confirmation do you need?”

 He hid a smile. 

“Okay then Y/N. Would you prefer for us to hand you over to EXO? Because that’s what they’re asking for.”

 You shook your head. 

“No Jiyong. I wouldn’t.” 

He took a deep breath. 

“Y/N, do you want to be with me? I should warn you though. Once you agree to be with me and become my girlfriend, your life isn’t going to go back to normal.” 

He winced.

 “Actually, it’s never really going to go back to normal, because my enemies have figured out what you mean to me, so because of me, you’re constantly at risk. I’m sorry.” 

You blinked, trying to take in all that information.

 “I’m sorry, and even if you choose not to be with me, I’ll make sure someone will always be protecting you, because you got into this because of me. You’re not a captive here any more. I’ll give you back your phone and wallet once Hanbin gets back. You can leave now if you want. Just please don’t tell anyone anything about us.” 

“Jiyong, I want to be with you. I want to stay here with you.” 

And again, you saw that smile of his you loved the most. The innocent, gummy smile. Not the sinful smirk or the icy glare. Just a smile radiating happiness. 

“Okay then my love.” 

He suddenly shifted to a glare.

 “Now, I’m going to go make sure EXO knows not to mess with you.”

 As he was leaving, you got really mad at Jongin. He never told you he was part of the mafia and then he goes around telling people you’re his girlfriend. You felt a little bad about how worried he would have been, but anger and irritation won over in the end. You started muttering. 

“Hmph. Bloody self-entitled pricks. Who are they to decide for me where I want to go? I’m fully capable of deciding for myself.”

 Jiyong laughed as he headed over to his closet, pulling out a loose, slightly translucent white shirt. He casually began telling you to use his room while the guys took care of Minhyuk and your security, but you couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that he was changing in front of you.  You could only focus on those beautiful arms and that toned back, wonderfully tan. You had to stop yourself from drooling. He was just humming to himself as he took out some piercings to put on from the drawer. He didn’t wear all his piercings all the time, but oh good lord, when he did, he practically looked like the embodiment of sin. He slowly strapped a few daggers to those beautifully toned thighs and because of that, you couldn’t get those thighs and the thought of riding them out of your head. Finally, he slipped on a jacket and was about to leave, coming close and kissing your forehead first. 

“Sweetheart, you stay here okay. No one other than me can enter these rooms from the outside. You’ll be safe here.”

 And as he left, you got a whiff of his cologne, driving you insane. After he left, you shook those dirty thoughts out of your head. You really needed to get laid. You knew if you stayed awake, you wouldn’t be able to stay sane from those thoughts, so you just buried yourself into the bed, desperate for sleep.

 Your eyes watered as you gagged, feeling him grab your head and buck his hips into your mouth more forcefully, making the definite transition from getting a blowjob to fucking your face. You loved it. You were getting wetter and wetter and you desperately needed some relief. Your hands travelled down your body, finding their way to your clit and rubbing frantically for some relief. You felt your hands being grabbed harshly as Jiyong pulled them away, holding them above your head with one of his hands while the other one harshly pinched your nipples. He bent down and harshly whispered in your ear,

 “My little slut couldn’t stop touching herself huh. Don’t you think you need a punishment?”

 You had just moaned out a 

“Yes”,

 when you woke up, finding yourself alone on the bed in Jiyong’s room, flushed, breathless and incredibly wet. You were desperate. You needed relief. You couldn’t remember the last time you got laid. And the thirst trap that is Kwon Jiyong wasn’t helping. Just thinking back to his toned body made your nipples hard. You were so bloody desperate that you decided to be reckless. You took one quick look around and slipped off the pants and panties you were wearing and leaned back against the pillows. You closed your eyes, trying to relive that dream. You let your hand gently run across your thighs and your breasts, enjoying the stream of goose bumps that followed. You slowly let yourself go, tricking yourself into believing they were Jiyong’s. He would never not tease you, so you slowly starting twirling your hands around your nipples, waiting until they were almost painfully hard before actually touching them. You let out a moan from how good that felt. Slowly, you let your hands travel down, letting it reach for your clit. You didn’t allow yourself to put pressure on it, no matter how much you wanted to. You moved in teasing little circles around it, slowly feeling yourself get wetter and wetter. You moved on to slowly sliding your fingers up and down, relishing the increased pressure. Slowly, you started putted more pressure and you moved on to your clit, you slow rubbing turning more frantic by the second. Your other hand slowly moved up to pinch your nipples, harder and harder, still not hard enough for you. When you were at a frantic pace, and it was really hitting the right spot, you arched your back, threw your head back and moaned,

 “Jiyong”.

 You nearly died from the shock when you heard him say, 

“Yes?” 

You opened your eyes, shivering from anticipation of what you knew was going to come when you saw him standing there, a foot away from the bed, eyes dark with lust, lips curled in a smirk. He slowly uncuffed his shirt and rolled his sleeves up, his eyes never leaving you. He walked over to you, unbuttoning a bit of his shirt as he did. Eyes incredibly dark, he removed his belt and finally took your hands and said, “Looks like someone needs to be punished.”

[sophiaholmes221b]

Sophia Holmes and the Blind Banker

Chapter Ten

The circus has always been a place of mystery to me as I've never visited one. I had expected a large Big Top with that cliché music, but then again, this is the centre of London and the circus isn't their main occupation.

We follow John and his girlfriend, Sarah up a slope towards a community hall, keeping to the shadows to avoid detection.

"It's years since anyone took me to the circus," Sarah tells John and he chuckles nervously in reply.

"Right, yes! Well, it's ... a friend recommended it to me," I raise an eyebrow, remembering our previous conversation on this topic. "He phoned up."

"Ah. What are they, a touring company or something?"

"I don't know much about it," he admits, pausing to look up at the numerous red Chinese lanterns that are strung up outside the hall, showing the first sign that this is anything but another cliché circus from the movies.

"I think they're probably from China!" Sarah jokes, looking up.

"Yes, I think ... I think so, yes," John says lamely. "There's a coincidence!"

Dad and I slip in behind them as they enter the box office, stopping before we turn the corner so we stay out of sight. I peer around the corner casually as the customer in front of John and Sarah receives her ticket, then turns and heads up the stairs to the side.

"The place looks practically empty," I notice, looking around.

"They've taken the precaution of small amounts of advertising. Enough for the show to be a plausible excuse or an alibi, but not busy enough to warrant any media attention which would mean their stay in this country is prolonged." Dad pauses to listen to John's conversation with the manager.

"And what's the name?" the manager questions as John slips his wallet from his jacket.

"Er, Holmes," John replies, and I spot the look of confusion pass over Sarah's face, but she stays quiet.

"Actually, I have four in that name," the manager announces after a moment of checking.

John frowns. "No, I don't think so. We only booked two."

"And then I phoned back and booked a couple more." John looks up in disbelief as dad turns into his line of sight, offering his hand out to Sarah. "I'm Sherlock. This is my daughter Sophia."

I give her a small, fake smile as she glances back at John for a moment, obviously nervous about our sudden arrival, but shakes our hands as John turns away in what I take to be exasperation.

"Er, hi," Sarah manages to get out.

"Hello," dad replies, also sending her his fake smile before instantly turning and walking away again to wait on the stairs for John.

"Erm," Sarah begins, looking at me nervously. "I just need to pop to the loos; I'll only be a minute."

John curses as she disappears behind the corner and he heads on a warpath to the stairs. "You couldn't let me have just one night off?" he hisses, keeping his voice low.

"Yellow Dragon Circus, in London for one day," dad argues. "It fits. The Tong sent an assassin to England ..."

"... dressed as a tightrope walker," John interrupts. "Come on, Sherlock, behave!"

"We're looking for a killer who can climb, who can shin up a rope," dad persists, voicing our theory. "Where else would you find that level of dexterity? Exit visas are scarce in China. They need a pretty good reason to get out of that country. Now, all I need to do is have a quick look round the place ..."

"Fine. You can do that with Sophie; I'm gonna take Sarah for a pint."

"I need your help," dad says sternly. Most normal people would feel offended by this, but there's something in the makeup of the Holmes' DNA that numbs us from criticism such as this.

"I do have a couple of other things on my mind this evening!"

"Like what?"

John blinks, staring at dad in disbelief at his ignorance. "You are kidding."

"What's so important?" dad persists.

"Sherlock, I'm right in the middle of a date. D'you want me to chase some killer while I'm trying to ..." he breaks off, pondering on whether or not to continue.

"What?" dad persists.

"... While I'm trying to get off with Sarah!" John finalises, losing his temper and inevitably speaking much louder in his anger. Sarah appears beside John, looking as though she definitely heard the last bit. "Heyyy." John draws the word out as he turns to his date, smiling awkwardly.

Rolling my eyes, I follow dad up the stairs, leaving a suddenly eager Sarah behind with a bashful John. She's been fussing with her hair whilst she was in the toilets and has obviously touched up on her makeup as well which shows that she's very keen about her relationship with John, even though it won't last long.

John is used to a certain lifestyle of danger, which is why he signed up to the army and the reason why he is continuing to put up with us. A woman such as Sarah won't last long with John because her previous relationships have all been straightforward, as I could tell by her hand as we shook.

We're shown into a large hall as we reach the top of the stairs. Although the room includes a full-sized stage, the heavy curtains are drawn across it suggesting it won't be used tonight. Instead, we gather around a circle of candles - around nine meters in diameter - and stand in the absence of any chairs.

I take in the size of the hall with my back to the centre as John and Sarah arrange themselves beside each other and dad joins my side behind them, looking at the ceiling for any wires or something similar that could indicate if they were intending any acrobatics and, if so, whether there is a trick to it.

"You said circus," John mutters, talking over his shoulder and turning his head away from his date so she can't hear his conversation. "This is not a circus. Look at the size of this crowd. Sherlock, this is ..." he fades off, grimacing with distaste as he looks for a word to describe the setup, "... art."

"This is not their day job," dad reminds him as I pace, as naturally as I can, to take in any exit routes such as a fire escape or something similar. If there is, then they're hidden in the shadows in the back.

"No, sorry, I forgot," John whispers maliciously. "They're not a circus; they're a gang of international smugglers."

Dad ignores him as the performance begins. I stop pacing and join dad's side again, watching as a male in traditional Chinese costume beats out a tapping rhythm on a small hand drum. John looks over his shoulder at us with a look of incredulity at this unusual and traditional greeting and dad and I return his look with our eyebrows raised.

A woman dressed ornately in a classic red silk gown and heavily painted face walks towards the centre of the circle and stops, looking imperiously out at us before raising her hand in the air for the drummer to stop.

"Traditionally named 'the Opera Singer,'" dad mutters to me, and I nod in acknowledgement.

The Opera Singer begins to walk across the circle to a large, covered object, and she pulls back to reveal an antique crossbow positioned on a stand. Picking up a long, thick, wooden arrow decorated with white feathers from one end of the crossbow, and the sharpened point glistens in the candlelight, she shows it to us before fitting it into the crossbow. Beside me, dad looks on at the performance with a look of boredom and I wonder when he's had the chance to see this before.

Straightening up, The Opera Singer pulls a single white feather from her headdress and shows us that there is nothing considerably special about this small item. On the back of the crossbow is a small, metal cup and she drops the feather into it. Immediately, the arrow is released and whizzes across the room, and I whirl my head around as I follow its progress over the circle until it hits a large, painted board. The audience gasps at the arrow's sudden release, and Sarah turns to John, laughing and dramatically clutching at her heart.

I roll my eyes at this behaviour whilst around me; people begin to applaud as another character enters the ring, dressed in chainmail and an ornate head mask. He holds his arms out to the sides as two darkly clothed men come over and begin to attach heavy chains around him until he's almost unable to move. I recognise the act immediately as an escapology act - one which I haven't seen in a while. I'm not sure I want to watch it again after what happened last time.

The two men strap the character so that his hands are folded in front of him, and they begin to back him up against the board.

"Classic Chinese escapology act," dad announces to John and Sarah as the warrior is strapped to the board.

The couple to him. "Hmm?" John mutters questioningly.

"The crossbow's on a delicate string," dad explains as the men continue to tie the chains. "The warrior has to escape his bonds before it fires."

We watch silently as The Opera Singer slips another arrow into the crossbow while the men attach yet more padlocks and chains to the warrior. One of the men pulls a chain tight, wrenching the warrior's head back against the board. The warrior cries out as the men maintain to loop the chains through steel rings attached to the board and begin to secure the warrior, who cries out again. A moment later, they seem to be satisfied with their prisoner's bonds, so they step away. The music builds up the intensity in the room, and some cymbals clap together unexpectedly, causing people around us to jump comically.

"Oh, Gawd! I'm sorry!" Sarah laughs, awkwardly, taking his arm with her other hand.

I take my eyes away from the 'happy couple' and put them back on the performance in front. The Opera Singer picks up a small knife and displays it to us.

"She splits the sandbag; the sand pours out; gradually the weight lowers into the bowl," dad explains softly so that just our small group can hear.

The Opera Singer does what dad had predicted and reaches up to a small sandbag that hangs from a cable above. The cable seems to be looped around some sort of a pulley, and as she slits the bottom of the sack I spot the metal weight which is attached to the other end. Sand begins to trickle out, unbalancing the two weights so that the sandbag lowers into the bowl.

The warrior cries out with effort and dad rolls his eyes at the acting and taps my arm pointedly, gesturing to the stage. I nod silently and we slip back into the shadows, heading towards to the stage door just as the sandbag levels with the weight.

The stage seems to be being used as the dressing room for the Chinese performers, as the area is equipped with everything from a dressing table with mirrors to free standing clothes rails.

I follow behind dad, twirling around to take in a full 360 of the space. In front of me, dad stops and I look over his shoulder to see what's made him tense up. It almost looks like another warrior is standing in the shadows, although I can see when I look down that the chainmail and mask are just hanging on a stand. Through the curtains, I hear the announcement of the next act as it breaks through the audience's applause.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the Opera Singer begins in the newly found silence, "from the distant moonlight shores of the Yangtze River, we present for your pleasure the deadly Chinese bird-spider."

I allow my eyebrows to rise slightly as I abandon my lookover of the room to peer through the curtains. As the Opera Singer walks off stage, a masked acrobat falls controllably from the ceiling, rolling as a thick red band around his waist unravels.

"Over here," I call softly to dad, not taking my eyes off of the acrobat as he removes the band form his waist and takes the two strips of material apart, wrapping them around his arms. Dad joins my side and looks out with interest as the acrobat lifts into the air, flying around in a circle a few feet off of the ground.

"Well, well," dad murmurs, softly.

"Our murderer," I state, just as quietly.

The stage door suddenly opens and I sprint over to a clothes rail to take cover as dad joins, spreading the clothes hiding us so we can watch The Opera Singer. She seems distressed and checks her mobile on one of the dressing tables.

I shift a hanger out of my line of sight to get a better view, but it falls to the floor with a clatter. I bite my lip, cursing my clumsiness, and duck down as The Opera Singer looks up sharply. We crouch down lower as she comes towards us, but I let out a steady stream of air as she leaves.

Shifting into a more comfortable position, my foot collides with a bag and several tins hit together. Dad looks down and flips the bag open, revealing the collection of spray cans. He picks two up and I see the Michigan label as he tosses one over towards me. I catch it easily.

"Found you," dad sings softly. "Take this to Raz, ask him whether it's the same as the one we saw, then take it to Bart's. I don't think we'll need to be here much longer."

I nod and fall back into the shadows, making my way back towards the stage door to the side, stuffing the newly acclaimed spray paint into my black bag.

As I leave the hall, keeping to the shadows to avoid detection from anyone who happens to be watching, I allow my mind to wander. Perhaps dad didn't want me there because of my clumsy previous actions. I nearly got us caught.

I follow the path down onto the main road and stand to the side, waiting for the next cab to come along. Mycroft once told me to avoid taking the first cab that comes your way, as it could be a trap. I've never really thought about it much and put it down to the paranoia our family seems to suffer from. Perhaps we're being too cautious - after all, the cabbie who murdered the Pink Lady didn't target her specifically. Even so, I let the first couple of cabs pass, then signal the third, ensuring I follow through the paranoia with a check of the cabbie.

"St Bart's, please," I say, and sit back in my seat.

"Visiting someone?" he questions and I frown in annoyance; I don't like cabbies who pry.

"Er, yeah, something like that," I pull out my phone, signalling the end of our conversation. He gets the hint and leaves me alone.

I send a quick text to Raz to meet me at Barts, then scroll through John's website. Already - and despite his terrible eye for detail - he seems to be gaining followers.

"We're here, love," says the cabbie, drawing up outside the hospital and I look up.

"Right, thanks," I reply, stepping out and handing him a lump of cash.

I wait outside for a moment, waiting for the taxi to disappear before I cross over to a group of garages for the ambulances. A figure steps out from behind one of the bins and comes up behind me.

I smile and turn. "Here, catch."

Raz reaches and catches the spray can and holds it up to a nearby street lamp. "Same brand, definitely." He turns around, taking the lid off and spraying a long, yellow line across the wall. "Yep, identical to the pictures you guys showed me."

He tosses the can back to me. "Thanks. See you around," I say, heading back towards the hospital.

"Wait," he calls, and I spin around. "Good luck." I frown, spinning around as he sends me a cocky grin. I shake my head as I cross back over to the hospital.

***

Molly is inside when I reach my preferred lab and smiles warmly.

"Oh hi, wasn't expecting you here," Molly says, shifting some of her things to the side. "How's that case going, that graffiti one?"

I show her the can and move over to one of the microscopes. "Er, yeah, we're getting closer," I admit, spraying some of the paint into a petri dish and sliding it under the lens. "There's a code we need to crack - a message - but we can't find the book which goes with it."

Molly freezes, turning to look at me with amusement. "You can't crack the code? You?"

She laughs, and I frown, lifting my head from the lens. "That's what I said. I need the book, but it could be anything." I sigh, annoyed.

Molly tries to make further conversation, but after a few minutes of silence on my part, leaves me to my work.

I identify a high amount of Hydrofluorocarbons, and pull out a couple of the images taken by the train tracks. It all seems to match. An idea crosses my mind and I flick the switch off on the wall. Molly looks up, concerned probably, for my sanity but I flick it up again to the UV setting.

I lie the pictures beneath the microscope and inspect the pictures once more. As I thought, the words are being painted over with a type of invisible ink, most likely lemon juice, going by the strength in colour. Even now, I can see it's going to be pointless trying to get the message from the printouts. The only way I can be sure to translate it is to go to the place where the graffiti is. I need to find some more.

Picking up my stuff and picking up a portable UV torch, I leave the room, swinging my coat back on and being thoughtful enough to switch the lights back on. Where else is there likely to be any more graffiti than before? A place where the Tong are meant to be meeting? I smile to myself and hail a cab, ordering it to take me back to the hall.

The Tong who were brought over would have all been smuggled out as part of the circus. For a while, they would be able to spread out across London. On the night of their act, however, they would need a way of knowing where they were to be performing. The most likely outcome is that the message was sprayed on the back of the hall, somewhere dark enough so that people would just walk past it and not even realise it was there.

I hop out of the cab and sprint around the back of the building. The music inside has stopped, allowing me to assume that the show has finished. All I have to hope now is that they didn't remove this message as well.

The performances advertised on the back of the hall are all dated for this week which suggests the posters were put up around the beginning of the week. However, the papers are in a much worse condition than they ought to be.

I look closer at the ripped parts and pull back the bits which are sticking on the wall from the rain. To my success, I find another message written across the wall, as fresh as these posters yet preserved from any weather damage. I slide the torch from my pocket and shine the light upon the message. Whether it was their intention or not, they've left it in almost complete darkness, a perfect conditions for UV usage.

"Gotcha," I mutter softly, taking a picture of the wall without the flash, the UV light illuminating the photo. Just in case, I open up a new page on my notebook and write down the phrase revealed.

Wzyozy L K

It makes no sense to me now, but with some work, I'm sure I'll be able to find out what this means.

No more than five minutes after I leave the darkened alleyway behind the hall, I receive a text message.

Meet us at Scotland Yard

SH

I tuck my phone back into my bag and pull my coat tighter as the winter wind bites at my exposed skin. How those girls from school survive when they go out for the night in skimpy dresses and fifty-inch heels, I'll never understand.

Looking back through the message in my mind, I try to look for clues at what sort of mood dad's in. The length of the message would suggest he's rushed or annoyed, and the fact he wants me to meet him at the Yard is making me think it's closer to annoyance. The police haven't been able to pin down the Tong.

I hail another cab as I reach the main road and step in, feeding the driver the address as I buckle myself in. He raises a brow at my destination but drives off anyway.

We pass several police cars heading towards the hall, but I know they won't be able to find anything. These smugglers are professionals: they're strong and cunning and several steps ahead of us. They could be halfway back to China by now, although I doubt it. They'll want to stick around until they get their lost treasure back.

I catch up with dad, John and that Sally woman as they scuttle quickly after a rather angry-looking Dimmock. It seems the squad sent out have found nothing they can use to pin down the smuggling group, as I suspected.

Sidling past Susan to get beside dad, I notice dad and John's jackets are both fairly rumpled - as if they've been in some sort of physical fight. From the way they're holding themselves and talking quietly between them, it seems unlikely the fight was between them. The Chinese smugglers must have caught up to them. A thick coat of dusty sand granules covers the back of dad's jacket. Coupled with his shallow breathing, I would say he was pushed backwards and fell from a reasonable height - most likely the stage back at the hall, winding himself. As John seems to have got involved, this clearly happened during the performance, probably not long after I left.

Dimmock storms into his office and we follow him towards his desk. "I sent a couple of cars. The old hall is totally deserted."

"They were barely going to hang around to be caught, were they?" I retort, with equal poison.

"Look, I saw the mark at the circus – that tattoo that we saw on the two bodies: the mark of the Tong," dad explains, intervening as Dimmock reaches his desk, turning around to face us.

"Lukis and Van Coon were part of a-a smuggling operation," John begins, reciting what we all already know. "Now, one of them stole something when they were in China; something valuable."

"These circus performers were gang members sent here to get it back," dad continues.

"Get what back?" Dimmock quizzes and dad looks away, biting his lip angrily.

"We don't know," John admits, hesitantly.

"You don't know," Dimmock repeats in obvious annoyance and dad is still avoiding eye contact. "Mr. Holmes ..." Dimmock begins. "I've done everything you two have asked. Lestrade, he seems to think your advice is worth something." Beside me, dad raises his head and I notice a small, proud smile creeping onto his face. "I gave the order for a raid. Please tell me I'll have something to show for it – other than a massive bill for overtime."

"We've learnt a lot," I say, pulling out the new pictures I've taken. I went looking for more evidence after it was confirmed that the paint in this tin-" I show him the can from my bag, "is the same as the ones on the walls around London. There's another message within the codes: one only visible to UV light."

Everyone looks stunned as I finish, and Dimmock takes my phone for a closer look. "Wzyozy L K?" he reads, before passing it on. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Probably a code, most likely a code telling the minor Tong members which book to use to find the message," I state, piecing together a theory which has been hanging in loose threads in my mind.

"What code is it though?" John questions, looking past dad at me.

"Could be anything," I admit.

"Then narrow it down," dad urges.

"We can rule out book code and pig-pen cyphers for a start, along with the hangman's dance and Morse because we wouldn't be using letters."

"Great, so we know what it isn't," Dimmock sighs, annoyed. "Any idea what it actually is? Could it be, I dunno, an anagram?"

"No, the longest word you can make from this is five letters long," I point out, "and you'd need to use all of the letters for it to work. I think I could narrow it down to around three types."

Dad nods thoughtfully, catching on. Code has never been his forte, but mine, which is why he's taking a backseat now.

"Well, you better get to it now, then. Call me when you've cracked it."

***

"There's no point cracking it now, though, is there?" John says as we arrive back at Baker Street, and I sit down at the table, immediately beginning work on the code. "They'll be back in China by tomorrow."

"No, they won't leave without what they came for," dad argues as I rule out the Transposition and ROT1 cyphers. "We need to find their hide-out; the rendezvous. Somewhere in this message it 'must' tell us."

I nod my agreement and start making a DIY Caeser Shift Wheel.

"Well, I think perhaps I should leave you to it," Sandra says suddenly, out of the blue.

I'd forgotten she was there.

"No, no, you don't have to go ... " John begins looking around at dad. " ... does she? You can stay."

"Yes, it would be better to study if you left now," dad says simultaneously.

John throws a dark look at him before turning back to her. "He's kidding," he says, wearily. "Please stay if you'd like."

Sapphire looks nervously towards dad, who's already turned back to the photos. "Is it just me, or is anyone else starving?"

"Ooh, God," dad sighs in exasperation.

Oh, the simplistic needs of the average human being. I, personally, haven't eaten the fight over the Jaria Diamond a couple of days before. It seems so long ago.

John looks around at Sarah in surprise, having also forgotten about eating. Meals are so infrequent in the Holmes household that I think he's just learnt to ignore the hunger. Either way, he walks towards the fridge; obviously trying to impress whatever her name is with his below mediocre cooking.

I attempt at the G cypher now, replacing the letters to get me to: Cfeufe R Q, which means nothing to me.

Dad joins me at the dining table, but leaves me to work on the code. He knows I work better alone, so instead takes out several pieces of paper, rummaging through them for reference or just to help me.

John's girlfriend walks idly over to the mirror, looking over the pictures pinned to it with little interest as we work.

"So this is what you do, you and John," she says. "You solve puzzles for a living."

"Consulting Detective," dad replies tetchily, not looking around.

"Oh," Sally says.

I ignore her and try the 'I' cypher, but find just another senseless answer: Orqgrq D C. Only seventeen more solutions to go through!

"Is that supposed to say 'Orange'?" Sadie asks stupidly, appearing over my shoulder and taking a look at my notes. I have to refrain from hurting her.

"No," I smile, a fake, sweet smile. "It's supposed to say 'Orqgrq D C'."

"Hmm," Sandra replies, sceptically, and walks over to annoy dad instead, looking over his shoulder at the paper. "What are these squiggles?"

I peer over to see dads' expression on this and watch as he looks up, his face set in the same way as I was feeling.

"They're numbers. An ancient Chinese dialect," he explains, trying to remain calm when the level of idiocy is clouding everything else.

"Oh, right!" she exclaims, sarcastically. "Yeah, well, of course I should have known that!"

I hear the door the kitchen squeak open behind me as the familiar footsteps of Mrs Hudson enter, up to help John out with his rather rubbish date, no doubt.

I keep working on the code, trying rotation after rotation. I slot in the next few letters, getting, I can feel it, ever closer to the answer. I'm on the K cypher now, and I know I'm close. Beside me, Sarah picks up the evidence bag containing the picture that Dimmock gave to us on the night I got arrested, and I tense up in utter annoyance, distracting myself from the code for a moment.

"So these numbers – it's a cypher," Sarah states, looking closely at the picture and completely oblivious to the looks both me and dad are giving her.

"Exactly," dad replies tightly as I put my head back down.

"And each pair of numbers is a word."

I frown, looking up again in surprise as I turn to face Sarah. Dad mirrors me. "How did you know that?"

"Well, two words have already been translated, here." She puts the picture down on the desk and I stand up, moving over to a place where I can see it as she points. Dad takes it from her and I notice now the small inscriptions. Soo Lin had started translating it, after we'd all gone off.

"John," dad calls, calmly.

"Mmm?" he replies, looking around from the kitchen table as dad stands up.

"John, look at this." Dad slips the picture carefully from the evidence bag as John comes over. "Soo Lin at the museum – she started to translate the code for us. We didn't see it! 'NINE' 'MILL'."

I look over the picture again, this time making out the wording.

"Does that mean 'millions'?" John questions, squinting at the photo.

"Nine million quid," dad says, thoughtfully. "For what?"

"That tiara, on the auctions the other day," I recall. "Sold for just less than eight million pounds. Maybe it's another in the collection."

"That's quite likely," dad says, going over to where he's left his coat and scarf. "But we still need to know the end of this sentence."

"Where are you going?" John demands as dad shrugs his coat on.

"To the museum; to the restoration room." He grimaces in exasperation at himself. "Oh, we must have been staring right at it!"

To think we were hiding out in the very same room as the key to this mystery is insane. How did we not notice it?

"At-at what?" John questions, still at a lost.

"The book, John. The book – the key to cracking the cypher!" He flips the photo up at John pointedly. "Soo Lin used it to do this! Whilst we were running around the gallery, she started to translate the code. It must be on her desk. Sophie, keep working on the code, text me when you find something."

I sit back down in my seat as he disappears, making the most of the current surprised silence to get back into the frame of mind. The K cypher translates as 'Mpoepo B A', which means nothing to me, and I cross-check it online. Nothing.

In the kitchen, I half-listen into John and Sarah's conversation as my brain nags at me that there's something I'm missing. I hear them decide on ordering a Chinese as it clicks. I write down my theory hastily, sliding the letters along once to reach the L rotation. I write the alphabet down the side of my notebook, wanting to get this right. As I reach Z, I start back up at the top, writing it out again, but with the letter L beside the A. I write down the answer as I go.

"L-O-N-D-O-N," I say out loud and smile as it makes sense. I think I can predict the next two letters, but I look for them anyway. "A-Z!" I gasp in excitement as I look up at the couple in the kitchen. "John! I've found it!"

All the pieces fly together now as if I've uncovered a massive magnet which is drawing together all of my loose threads to create an answer.

I remember seeing the London A-Z taking the top spot on one of Lukis' many piles of messy books, clearly left there from when he hastily decoded his doom. I remember seeing the same book on Van Coon's coffee table, near the wall, third book down. Back in the museum, on Soo Lin's desk, was a copy of the London A-Z. We'd looked at it, ironically whilst we were passing the time, trying to work out a pattern between the murders.

"'A book which everyone would own!'" I quote excitedly, heading over to one of the crate and beginning to take out handfuls of books. "It fits John!"

John and Sarah help me to unload the crates we haven't been through, and I take out the A-Z and start flicking through it to decode the threats made to Van Coon and Lukis.

"I'll text Sherlock, keep looking!" John calls, heading back into the kitchen for his phone.

Page fifteen, entry one... I flick to the correct page and take out one of the pictures of the wall in Shad's office. The warning for both men. The first entry reads:

"Deadmans Lane NW9!"

John raises his head from his phone. "What?"

"The message in Shad and the library, it was a threat: deadman. It explains why Van Coon had his gun and why both places were locked.."

John nods thoughtfully. "Can you translate the rest?"

I return the nod and take another print out of the brick wall from the pile, writing down the two words which were already translated. I flick through to page thirty-seven and slide my finger down across the page until I find entry nine.

Fore St EC2. I shorten it down to 'for' and write it down beside the Hangzhou numbers correlating it.

Sixty, thirty-five is the next code, so I follow its instructions, bringing me to Jade Cl. E16. Jade. Jade what, though? Was I right that it's part of the tiara collection?

I translate the rest of the words easily, now in the flow of finding the right pages. I translate the last word and write it down on the paper, looking at the message its entirety.

Nine mill for jade pin. Dragon den black tramway.

Black tramway? Where's that?

"Soph, I've ordered you some curry, would you like us to put it back for later?" John asks, sticking his head around the kitchen door as I reach for one of our maps.

"Er, yeah, whatever you say," I reply, not listening as I search for the tramway.

The doorbell rings downstairs signalling the arrival of our dinner and John heads downstairs. Something about this bugs me. It couldn't have been more than five minutes since John ordered our meal, yet here is the delivery man.

"Oh, god!" I mutter quietly and reach over to unlock the safe where we keep our spare guns.

John's girlfriend screams from behind me and I turn to see a man dropping a limp Sarah to the ground. He's around the same height as the attacker who drugged me in Soo Lin's flat, but he's still covered in a mass of black cloth so it's hard to tell.

He rounds on me and I breathe deeply, my heart beating fast. I position myself in an defensive stance, hiding my gun until I need it. 'Never display your most valued weapon to your enemy, as they can use it against you,' as Mycroft said once. I think he may have been talking about words or connections, but in this circumstance, I'm happy to go with guns.

If the assassin is keeping Sarah alive, then it's likely that he's using us as hostages to get at dad, and I won't let that happen without a fight.

The man laughs and copies my stance, and I feel the rush of adrenaline course through my veins. This man has been trained in the martial arts since he was four years old, and has been practising every year after. Me ... well, I started when I was eight, so I think my chances are limited if we think about it realistically.

I bow respectfully to him and he begrudgingly returns it, before coming up and beginning the fight. He charges at me, reaching me in seconds, his head bent low to push into my stomach. I bring my leg up to kick him away, but he grasps my foot and twists it around, pushing me backwards.

Losing my balance, I fall into the arms of another assassin who had crept up behind me and I struggle relentlessly against my bonds as they tie me up and bundle me out of the apartment of 221B.

[sonyeondone]

Follow The Sound

피리소릴 따라와 ________________

Main: Female Reader x Jeon Jungkook

A/N: Anyone that knew of Jeon Jungkook knew the reputation that preceded him; somehow, someway, those who crossed his path in a most promiscuous way were never the same. 

Unfortunately, she did not know of Jeon Jungkook.

Series Warnings: Violence, Sexual Reference, Alcoholism, Angst

________________

Music, she thought to herself, surely wasn’t supposed to be enjoyed at such a loud volume. Nightclubs and similar venues always seemed to play music as if their intentions were to drown out any conversation, and thus force the masses to fill the dance floor. Perhaps that was just it; club music wasn’t meant to be enjoyed, it was meant to be utilized. 

Utilized it was, so much so that she felt herself jostled around between the bodies of others who, like her, just wanted a good night. The most apparent commonality in the crowd was the wish of a night to disappear. A night of non-existence. This is what she wanted, at any rate. A tug could be felt on her arm, her eyes which had previously been closed with the swaying of her head opening to find Euna, her biggest influence and possibly her closest friend, at a proximity that could almost be called intimate. 

 “I’m getting really hot, Honey” was all she could manage to shout across the closed distance, the rest of the sentence left unsaid, and rather iterated by her pointing to the exit door, the affectionate nickname Euna had dubbed her being tacked on the end. A nod and an outstretched hand passed across the given reply, and the two girls took hands and made the rough journey through the perspiring bodies and carefree souls. 

Bursting through the door that resembled more of a hole in the wall, the two let the cold night air settle into their lungs, a welcomed change from the sweat that clung to the air inside.

“Thank god- you know, I was started to feel a hand creeping up on my shoulder and knew that it was time for a break,” Euna lamented as her dainty fingers dove into her purse.  “I could tell, the guy behind you had a very....steady stare. Almost like his eyes were glued to you,” Honey agreed, as her eyes swept over the ever lengthy line of individuals still wishing to get between the moving bodies in NB2.  The two girls made distance between the club and themselves, letting the wind lift their hair and soothe their skin.  “I haven’t even drunk that much but I feel a bit-”  “Dizzy? Yeah, I think you got a bit heavy on the cojinganmek,” Euna finished her best friend’s sentence with the ease only a best friend could manage.  “Mixing drinks isn’t supposed to be all too good for you. I couldn’t help it though, they were nice, and I don’t usually like beer.” Euna only replied with a nod, and took Honey’s arm so that the two were linked elbow to elbow.  “Well, when we go back, no more. Just straight soju, keep it simple, okay?”

________________

With their bodies feeling newly refreshed and the time only reading 2am, Euna turned their brisk walk back toward the club, ready to re approach the mob of youthful party-goers. 

The dark night was not so dark thanks to the illumination of bright signs and the neon's adorning rows of shops, and signalling wayward nightlife into the warmth of their spaces. 

Yet, she and Euna’s sight didn’t seem to pierce the dark as they approached the club, just a turn away.

As they spoke to one another, their brief distraction was broken when Euna suddenly stopped, failing to alert her friend to the reason for doing so. Instead, Honey kept walking, and bumped into the broad and solid back of a stranger, tall and shadowed. 

Honey winced and recoiled, quickly taking several steps back and clinging to Euna out of sheer, hot embarrassment. The stranger made his turn to them as apologies spilled from her lips like a broken faucet.

“Oh my g- I am so sorry, I didn’t see you there, I should have been watching where I was going, and I just-” The string of words that unravelled from her mind was cut off by a deep, lighthearted laugh. Euna, who had quietly whispered for Honey to ‘stop rambling’, brightened up at the sound, a reaction quite polar to Honey’s own reaction. She was too enthralled with the source of the sound that stopped her thoughts from reeling. 

He was...

beautiful.

There was no other way for her to describe it. It was a beauty that could only be described as otherworldly. Men like him...they just didn’t exist.

Or, at least they hadn’t three metres back, when she was blissfully ignorant. Atop his head was a curled mess of rich, dark hair that glistened auburn in the neon behind him. That alone would have been perfect, a tantalising mixture of well kept and effortless, had the rest of him not been just as appealing to look at. But oh it was. She would have kept staring. She could have simply looked at him long into the night and the break of new morning.

Somehow, though, she was able to break from whatever bewitchment he had over her when he spoke- and subsequently reminded her of her best friend still cradling her arm. Honey flicked a quick glance at Euna, who, judging by the subtle shock that graced her face, shared the same train of thought.

“That’s okay. Honey, was it?” he queried, his eyebrows pulled into a frown of question, as he gestured to her before resting his hands on his impossibly slim waist. It was a waist curved in such a way that almost gave him the illusion of being spindly, had it not been for the stretch and strain of his shirt over his biceps. 

“Oh, actually, that’s just a nickname, Euna calls me,” she clarified, acknowledging the girl on her arm, then offering up her given name.

He nodded thoughtfully as if mulling the information in his mind, letting the slight pause linger on his tongue before speaking again.

“Well, are you two headed to NB2? It seems like there’s quite the line.”

Honey’s voice paused in her throat.He was a stranger. Should she be divulging this information to him?

No matter how absolutely gorgeous he was, no matter how impossibly breathtaking his frosted white smile was in the shadow that clung to him, he was still a stranger, and strangers were notorious for bringing danger when not fully acquainted. Before an answer could be evaluated on her own end, Euna’s voice cut the space between them through a cordial smile.

“Actually, we just came from there, we’re on our way home.”Her response was swift and calculated, and Honey decided it was only right to go along with it.

“Yeah, it’s a little bit of a journey,” she added, hoping her embellishment would sell the story.

“Well, that’s too bad,” the perfect stranger started, clicking his tongue. Just as quickly as it had come, his expression passed and was replaced with something Honey could only describe as tempting. “Maybe we’ll bump into one another again, sometime.”Euna nodded with an eagerness, that one could possibly misinterpret as the same hope for a reuniting.

Her best friend knew better.

________________

“So...who was the guy? You obviously knew him, you couldn’t get away from him quick enough.”

The question, expected and uncomfortable in Euna’s chest, was kept without reply for a beat or two, before she sucked in a deep breath. The two of them were resting on the one bed, unwinding after a short trip home filled with avoidance and apprehension of this very subject.

“I didn’t realise it at first, but the more I looked at him, the more he seemed familiar. His name is Jeon Jungkook, and he is, from what I’ve heard, nothing but bad news. And I’ve heard a lot.”

“What do you mean, ‘bad news’. Like...like drug lords and gang member bad?” 

“No, not quite. Might as well be though. He can’t keep his hands on one person for very long. Whoever he touches just...disappears. Obviously not literally, but their life just seems to deteriorate. I knew a girl- one minute she was just talking about a boy she’d met who was really kind and charming, Jungkook obviously, and the next she’s dropped out of a course she’s getting high marks in and loves. Last I heard of her, she was kicked out of home, but I can’t be sure because I lost contact with her.”

Honey turned over Euna’s words in her head, surprise and horror painting her features. 

“All because she slept with him?”

“Yep. Probably started before that, even. Maybe when she first looked at him.”

Euna shook her head slightly and sighed. “Everyone I’ve ever heard of getting with him has their life just crash and burn. It’s his reputation. People know this, it isn’t a secret. And yet, somehow, for some reason, people still risk it. Still sleep with him. It’s just...I don’t know, it’s not worth it. It’s stupid.”

“Yeah,” Honey nodded, digesting everything she’d heard over the span of five minutes. Overlaying those words onto the image of him-

Jeon Jungkook

- that was now brandished across her memory.

“Stupid.”

[chibimyumi]

Kuro 148 Summary & Thoughts

その執事、顰笑：消え去ろうと、過ぎ行こうと、身体がお前を呼び覚ます That Butler, Pained Smile: In an Attempt to Disappear, an Attempt to Pass By, My Body Awakens You

Just when the readers were about to despair about how much longer Our!Ciel would stay dumbfound, the previous chapter (147) ended with a spectacular proclamation of war from Earl Ciel Phantomhive to his brother.

The track on which we were set is discontinued in chapter 148, and the readers are brought to Southampton, where we find Soma headed for the harbour. No explanation has been given; the only way we know is because of the narrator-panel stating this fact. It leaves us wondering for what exact reason Soma is departing. Although it is rather safe to assume that he is returning to India now that he has lost both Agni and his ‘best friend’.  Little business remains for Soma in England.

En-route, Soma is interrupted by a familiar addressing of his name, “big brother of the curry buns”. The speaker is a young boy who seems rather upset. He tells Soma that the day before he went through the trouble of going to Soma’s place for a bun, but that even though it was Free-Buns-Wednesday, he received none. Regretfully, Soma replies that he can’t ever give out curry buns any more.

The child despairs, and cries at Soma that his mother and infant brother are starving. Without much hesitation, Soma removes a necklace that looks like it could feed a small orphanage, and donates it to the boy. (It sparkles, glistens and gleams, it is shining shimmering and splendid♫!! UGH, I. am. a. magpie.)

Soma’s wealth is canonically even greater than that of Our!Ciel’s, so missing a necklace like this would probably mean little more to him than one of us normal folks missing a penny. Soma however, appears so extremely lost that one may suspect that he might have shown the child the same gesture, even if Soma had been less well-off.

The boy is moved to tears, folds his hands and only barely manages to say his words of gratitude. The mannerisms of the child thanking him painfully reminds Soma of his... (*sobs* no problem, I’ve got this, it’s okay) butler…

(No, I’m not okay, AGONI AND SOBMA!!! ( ﾉД`)ｼｸｼｸ…)

Unfortunately/fortunately, neither Soma nor the readers are given much time to pine away in grief. Not even one page of time is allowed before Soma gets pulled out of his reverie again.

Soma notices how the necklace drew the boy some unwanted attention of three thugs. The thugs in the alley rob the child of jewellery. The mother of the child begs the thugs to return what was supposed to feed her starving children. To no avail, the mother mercilessly gets kicked down by one of the hooligans.

“Charity is only to be expected of me!” “Prince Soma! You have become a magnificent person”

Soma gets another flashback of Agni praising him for his boundless generosity. The thugs seem to be dissatisfied still, and make a wretched appeal to Soma’s bounteousness.

The young prince plainly refuses, explaining that “extending a helping hand to people like them is a complete waste.”

The thugs will swallow none of this warranted insult and decide to gang up on my son Soma and beat him to a pulp. Instead of fighting back, Soma prioritises the protecting of the suitcase which he had been carrying above anything else. This selfless shielding makes the thugs suspect that the content of the suitcase is something of even greater value than the very necklace Soma eagerly gifted the boy.

And little did they know just how right they were. To the thugs’ surprise, the suitcase turns out to contain a modest urn.

“Give Agni back!” Soma commanded.

One of the muggers grows increasingly greedy and makes to shatter the urn (along with my heart 💔 ) for the off-chance that ashes may contain some golden teeth.

“Your butler was very happy”

Soma loses it. He absolutely loses it. Perhaps even Soma did not know what exactly happened, but the readers are left with the child crawling up to his mother, coiling in fear. “Big brother of the curry buns…” the child calls with tears welling up in his eyes.

Blood fills the scene, and we see the three thugs entirely beaten up. It is impossible to tell whether they were killed, but frankly, the only reason I care is because I don’t want my dear son to have a body count on his record… (If he is going to have any, at least let it be Real!Ciel… Does it even count as murder if somebody is dead already? I guess the law books won’t have a page on this specific situation… Law department, someone?)

The boy is still quivering as he looks at his two hands that are now holding the expensive necklace that Soma had retrieved for him. The child looks like he does not know whether to be scared of grateful of Soma, but before he can figure out, the prince has already left.

“I can’t get any salvation even if I whimsically extend a helping hand to others”

“The only thing that comes after a passing gust of joy”

“Is the agony that crashes me onto the ground anew”

“If so, then I don’t need any salvation at all”

“Humans, reality, leads the prince (Soma) to the devil (Kali)…”

As it appears, the power of Kali’s Right Hand has passes onto Soma. The laws of magic in the Kuroshitsuji universe remain mostly unknown, so it is still impossible to tell why this transfer of power is possible, or even what it is supposed to mean. A personal speculation, (though cheesy at best, obvious at worst) is that Soma will take revenge for both Our!Ciel and Agni, using himself as a vessel for the latter as well.

There would be no reason for Toboso-sensei to dedicate one entire chapter to Soma if his return to the main plot was not planned.

Although I sincerely hope that this ‘transfer of power’ will not become a tool to turn Soma into an antagonist, it is a possibility we cannot entirely scratch. After all, the solemn tone in which Soma almost declared his own war gives us reason to think he is heading down a very slippery slope. In the case that he will become an antagonist to Our!Ciel, we can probably expect him to either:

Make an 180, because at this point I don’t see Our!Ciel allowing Sebastian to neutralise Soma entirely. If push comes to shove, we will probably see Sebastian solely defending and blocking any attacks that may come his master’s way. We do not know whether ‘Kali’s Right Hand’ is a simple 1000XP power bestowed upon its owner, or more like a ‘magnifier of existing power by 10x’. But regardless, even if Soma would prove to be less crafty than Agni, Sebastian would definitely get a run for his money. If he turned out to be even stronger than Agni, then I better prepare some popcorn. It would be up to Our!Ciel then, I surmise, to convince Soma that it were not him, but is dead zombie-twin who murdered Agni. I would not blame Soma at all if he would not buy this story. Any way I could think of relaying this information simply sounds too absurd to be taken seriously, after all. “By the way, I had a twin, HIS name was Ciel, but I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive. He is a zombie, and the Undertaker is a reaper.”

Or, die. (Run for Sebas’ money or not)

I personally really do hope that Toboso-sensei won’t give us the Dramatic Irony though. What I hope to see is that Soma decides that he is finally equipped to avenge his dead butler on his own. Keeping my fingers crossed.

[turnupswritessometimes]

The One With the Zombies - AshEiji - Ch5

Title: The One With the Zombies

Chapter: 5

Word Count: 4673

Description:  Another what it says on the tin from me - it's a Zombie Apocalypse AU because how else could this anime/manga get any darker? Whilst on the run from the outbreak of zombies, reporters Ibe and Eiji stumble across a New York street gang, safely huddled in an abandoned warehouse. As if the undead weren't surprising enough, Eiji finds himself becoming closer and closer to the gang's leader, mysteriously dubbed Ash Lynx. But safety doesn't last forever and soon it's only Ash and Eiji. And they're up against more than just zombies.

Note: This is available on A03, and I would recommend you follow it there, as I remember to update it. I would post a link, but then Tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

5

Eiji had never been glad that he hadn't been able to pull a trigger.

The two dark shapes had not been zombies. They were moving slowly, but they hadn't been dragging their limbs behind them. No, it had only been a very tired Ibe and Max.

There had been no time for a happy reunion. Ash had given them a sharp nod and they had nodded back.

They kept walking, though Eiji had wanted nothing more than to collapse into Ibe's arms and sob. He ha been scared - so scared - and he wanted someone bigger than him to tell him it was okay now, the danger had passed.

The danger hadn't passed.

They had walked until dawn. After an hour or so, Skip had gotten tired and Ash had given him a piggyback without saying a word. So they had continued walking – until they had been bathed in amber light and they could see a house in the distance.

Nothing was following them. Eiji glanced back every ten seconds until they had reached the building. Every moment that he wasn’t looking behind him, he was sure that there were hands reaching out towards him – fingers ready to grab at him. But no one had followed them. Which probably meant that the zombies had been occupied with other things.

It was a farmhouse. They climbed over the wooden fence and passed empty barns and stables until they came to a sprawling, wooden house. It was like something from a book – from Anne of Green Gables or the Wizard of Oz. Empty windows with checked curtains were visible from outside and there were two rocking chairs on the porch.

As good a place as any to stop had been the thought that Eiji was sure was going through everyones minds.

Max kicked the door open and had traced the room with the nose of his gun. With the light outside, the inside looked pitch black, the furniture just shadowy shapes that looked like crouching figures. It was empty.  So they had entered.

They had found Skip a room with a quilted blanket and a painting of sheep grazing outside pinned to the wall. He had fallen asleep before his head had even hit the pillow. Max and Ibe had taken the double bed in the backroom, with the gun resting on the bedside table. Bones and Kong collapsed in the attic room – twisted around each other on a twin bed.

Ash had volunteered for the first watch. Eiji had followed him. He had expected Ash to sink back on one of the rocking chairs with a ciggie and watch the dawn. Instead, he was leaning against the door, still looking taut.

“Get a few hours sleep.” Ash said. He hadn’t even needed to turn to know Eiji was there.

Eiji pushed past him – he had started to ignore Ash’s commands. Whenever he told him to go to sleep, he had always stubbornly stayed up, leaning against the door and standing with him. It didn’t matter if they didn’t say a word. Ash was lonely. Eiji wanted to make him less lonely. Everyone else had thought he was crazy when Ash would tell him to get him something and Eiji would say “no,” even if he was getting up to oblige. Ash’s bark was less than his bite. So Eiji settled himself into one of the rocking chairs, his back aching from relaxing after so long.

“I can’t,” he said, and it was the truth.

“Yes, you can. There’s not as many of us now, you have to take a turn sleeping so you can take a turn on guard. We can’t share it anymore.”

“I really can’t.”

Ash’s eyes softened. He was still holding his gun. Not fiddling with it; he was ready to shoot it. “You’re scared of what you might dream.”

Eiji nodded, his gaze not leaving Ash’s green eyes.

“From my experience, your brain stops giving you nightmares once life becomes one.”

“Experience?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day,” Ash said. “But the main thing is that you will be able to sleep. You need to sleep, Eiji. You’re exhausted.”

“So are you.”

“Two hours,” Ash said. “Sleep for two hours, okay? Sleep in the living room and I’ll wake you up if you have a nightmare.”

“You promise?”

Ash nodded. There was dark smudges under his eyes. “Two hours.”

“Can I sleep here?”

“Inside.”

Eiji pushed himself out of the rocking chair, feeling his knees give way as he stood. He caught himself on the door and passed Ash again. He felt a hand on the small of his back and turned to see Ash giving him a sleepy smile. The sun behind him made him glow.

Eiji opened his mouth slightly – then realised he didn’t know what he was going to say and closed it. Instead, he put a hand on Ash’s wrist; making sure that he was real. Real and warm and here. He could hold him.

It was strangely hard to pull himself away, but he eventually managed it. Managed to make the two steps over to the sofa and collapse onto it.

Ash had been right. Eiji drifted off almost immediately, and when he did, he hardly dreamt at all. Everything was dark. Not a scary kind of dark – a warm, comforting dark that was protecting him from everything. There were arms around him. He didn’t know whose arms, but they were warm and real and there.

So he slept.

*

Ash hadn’t meant to watch Eiji. He knew it was exceedingly creepy, so he only allowed himself a glance every five minutes or so. It was just simply less nerve wracking to glance inside than to look out over the day. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched; of being followed and he hadn’t wanted to stop at all. It had been for the others. They needed to rest. He didn’t.

So he allowed himself a single glance every five minutes. The door was half-open and golden sunlight brought out the browns and reds in Eiji’s dark hair, like the iridescence of a blackbird’s feather’s. His hair was thick – thick enough to cast a shadow on his expresso coloured skin. Expresso coloured, apart from rosy pink cheeks and rosy pink lips. It was only obvious because of the bright orange jacket.

Ash loved that jacket on Eiji. He liked it more than the sweaters and the button up shirts. It just suited him more – the boy who didn’t bat an eyelash at a gang leader. Who lit up the room with his smiles and glowed when he laughed. A boy like that should wear huge orange jackets. He needed to stand out.

Of course, Max Lobo couldn’t know that Ash was doing this – and as he appeared from one of the backrooms, Ash glanced away, back out the door.

“You decided whether to tell him or not?”

“We leave once everyone’s had a couple of hours sleep.” Ash said. He didn’t bother to keep quiet – Eiji hadn’t moved a muscle in almost two hours and was breathing deeply. He was far gone. “We can’t stop.”

“Are you going to sleep?”

“I don’t need to.”

“Right.” For once Max wasn’t patronising. He leant his elbows against the porch railing, looking out over the abandoned farm. Ash joined him, after a moment. He didn’t want to, but he suspected that it wasn’t the end of the conversation.

“We can’t stop,” he repeated.

“Is it about Griffin?”

Breath left Ash for a moment, so he nodded instead. He tapped his fingers on the wood in front of him and wished he had thought to roll a cigarette before. He hadn’t realised quite how much he wanted one until he remembered.

“There’s no time,” he managed to say. “He’s running out of time.”

Max was silent for a moment. Ash had barely been able to get the words out – hadn’t, really, been able to get them out – and he wondered if Max understood them.

“Are you sure there’s time?”

Ash didn’t reply. He watched a woodlouse crawl out of the woodwork and scuttle across the top on the bannister, the sun glistening on it’s back. Ash let it crawl across his cracked fingernails. Cracked and dirty, he realised, with a certain satisfaction. Worker’s hands. Man’s hands. He wasn’t impeccably clean anymore and there was a certain relish in that. It was easier to think about the state of his fingernails than the state of his brother.

“Ash, what happened back there,” Max said. He was still looking at the horizon. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You see a lot of zombies?”

“A fair few coming out the city. They didn’t behave like that – that was –“

“Organised.”

“None of the others have organised themselves like that. It was like they were after something.”

“Someone,” Ash said. He tapped his fingers with more speed. “Some brains. That’s all they want. They must have – they must have figured out that there were a lot of us in there. All drawn to it because it’s the only place with anyone in it for miles.”

“They figured it out, did they?” Max repeated. He sighed. “Smart zombies.”

“Fuck off, Lobo. I know as much as you.”

“You’re – admitting that you don’t know something?” Max put a hand to his chest, rolling his eyes in mock surprise.

Ash could have knocked his teeth out. He hoped he conveyed that with a facial expression. If he did, Max had no reaction. He lowered his hand, and smiled slightly.

“Rest,” he said.

“No thanks, dad.”

He got a wince at that and remembered to file it away for future reference. ‘Dad’ got under Max’s skin.

“Then just sit. Your legs need to take a break.”

“Like I would do anything that you tell me to do.” But Ash’s body was betraying him. He was sinking into one of the rocking chairs and suddenly it hit him just how tired he was. Every muscle that he had suddenly relaxed, as though he had just stepped into a hot bath. He was sore. Every part of him was sore. He had been tense for so long and it felt good to relax.

Just for a minute, though. Just until everyone had rested. Then they had to get going again. He had to go to New York. He had to get to Griffin.

After all, he told himself as he stared at the silhouette of Max Lobo, Griffin had been abandoned too many times.

He hadn’t even realised that he had fallen asleep until he heard his name being called from somewhere high above him and he realised that he had to open his eyes. He did, peeling eyelids back that felt as though they had stuck in place.

It was hot. A hot day. One side of his face was boiling hot, sweat trickling down his temple in the humid heat. He was sweating – right through his shirt, he was sure. The air felt thick and he could hear bugs chirping in the distance.

Eiji was over the rocking chair, one hand on it to steady it. His brown eyes looked gold in the morning light and for a moment, Ash had forgotten everything. He smiled up at Eiji, because he was alive and there – because he looked absolutely wonderful in the daylight.

Then the previous night hit him like a freight train.

“What’s the time?” he demanded, all but jumping out of the chair. It creaked and groaned, rocking to itself as if it was consoling it’s loss.

“Midday,” Eiji said.

“We need to leave. Have you got your stuff together?”

“Max and Ibe left.”

“What?”

"They've gone to find more supplies," and at the look on Ash's face, he added. "You're out of bullets. Max is too. And the others."

"Fuck." Ash said. "Fuck – fuck that. As soon as we get to New York we'll get more bullets."

"I said you'd be angry." Eiji had stuck his hands in his pockets and the jacket made him look small. He looked up at Ash from below his fringe.

"What did Max say?"

"Something like 'oh well.'"

"Of course he fucking did."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Ash said. He found himself smiling slightly. "You don't have to apologize for everything, you know."

Eiji shrugged.

"Did they take Skip with them?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck," he ran a hand through his hair, looking out over the porch. The sky was blue – midsummer blue – the kind of deep blue that you only saw in story books. "We could go – just us. I can send a message to Skip and ask them to wait here for a couple of days."

"Here doesn't seem safe," Eiji said, carefully. He hesitated, drawing the jacket closer around himself. He must have been boiling. "I don't think it's a good idea to go alone."

His English had gotten better – loads better, since he had arrived. But now he seemed to be struggling – hesitating to find the words.

"You don't trust me?" Ash found himself smirking.

"I do." Eiji's voice was strong. He made eye contact as he said it, then he wavered again. "I don't want Ibe-san to worry about me."

"You don't want to lead him." That was the answer behind the puzzle of Eiji's hesitation.

He nodded.

Ash sighed. A long, heavy sigh that he exaggerated just to make Eiji smile. He wanted Eiji to keep smiling. It was as important as keeping Skip smiling. He leant on the railing, feeling it wobble underneath him.

"This house is like the one back home," he said. Mostly to himself. Mostly because he was thinking of Griffin. Partly because he wanted to tell Eiji about himself, and that was the only thing he could say. "I used to wish for a cyclone to take me away to Oz."

When he was eight. When he was eight his class had watched The Wizard of Oz on a rainy day. Ash had still been sore. But when he had seen Oz, with it's too bright yellow roads and popppy fields and Emerlad Cities, he hadn't been thinking about it. He had been completely transported – the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, the Lion all rolled into one.

But then Dorothy had clicked her heels and said 'there's no place like home,' and Ash had crashed back down to the real world.

"I wish that could happen now," Eiji said, softly. He leant against the wood next to Ash, his face turned up to the sky. There was a mole under his jaw. Ash had never noticed it before. And he needed a shave – his jaw was covered in the thin, downy hair of a boy who hasn’t shaved enough to grow a proper beard.  Ash let a hand run over his own skin. Barely anything. He felt that he would be cursed with a baby face forever.

"You don't get cyclones here."

"Or in (!!)?"

Ash smiled then – a genuine smile that he couldn't stop from spreading across his face. "Not there, either."

Eiji paused. "You're not supposed to get zombies here, either. There's always hope."

"You're weird."

Eiji shrugged. He was still smiling as he looked up at the sky.

Ash should have hated this. He should have hated being trapped on a farm with no bullets when his brother needed him. It might be too late already – every voice in his head was screaming at him to leave – to run to New York if he had to. Maybe he was scared.

He was scared to see Griffin again.

So maybe staying on an abandoned farm with no bullets wasn't too bad.

"Well then," he said. "Come on, Dorothy. If we're stuck here, we might as well explore."

He wasn't sure how Eiji's hand found its way into his, but he wasn't going to point it out. It was warm and real and there and he didn't want to let it go as they padded back into the shade of the house.

It was humid inside too – the kind of heat that you could taste. The curtains had been closed and the relentless sun outside burst through them, casting everything in a rosy light.

The living room was cliché. Sofas with patchwork cushions and handstitched embroidery in wooden frames on the walls. But then there was a large t.v and a stack of blu-rays that felt hideously out of place. Skip's room was similar – a wii U set against The Jungle Book and Alice in Wonderland. A poster of Spiderman next to a cross stitch of a forest scene.

Max and Ibe’s room still had a rotary phone in. Ash played with the dial in silence, smirking slightly when it dinged back into place.

“It’s all empty,” Eiji said. Ash turned to him – he had been opening the chest of drawers. “Everything is empty.”

“They must have cleared off.” Ash said.

“I hope it was long before all this happened.” Eiji said quietly. He drew lines in the dust on the top of the chest of drawers. It looked like Japanese – Ash assumed it was Japanese. “Do you think they went on their honeymoon?”

“What makes you say that?”

Eiji pointed to a framed photograph. A young couple were all smiles – both women holding their hands up so that the light sparkled off of matching engagement rings. A snapshot of unspeakable happiness that was now gathering dust.

“Maybe,” Ash said. “Maybe this place is only rented out to honeymoon couples. Maybe I should have carried you over the threshold.”

Eiji looked at him, tilting his head to one side. “Ash.”

“I’m serious – come here.” He was wrapping his arms around Eiji’s waists before he could protest, lifting him from the floor. Eiji didn’t yelp – he gasped, his hands going to Ash’s as if to disentangle himself. Ash stumbled – laughing, but surprised. “Shit, I didn’t realise you were so heavy.”

“That’s not very polite.” Eiji landed on the floor with a thump. He turned to Ash with a pout on his face and shit – shit, he was close. But he didn’t seem to notice that he was almost pressed flush against him – no, he was smiling up at Ash with a mischievous look on his face. “It’s very rude to comment on someone’s weight.”

“So?” Ash tried to stay calm – to look as unfazed and teasing as he always did.

Eiji’s arms were around him in the next moment – strong, stronger than Ash thought he could be – and then Ash was light as a feather. He was looking down at Eiji, his hands on the Japanese boy’s shoulders to steady himself. Eiji was grinning at him – triumphant.

He felt helpless, in the air. He couldn’t figure out if he liked that feeling, because it was Eiji and Eiji wouldn’t hurt him – Eiji would never hurt him. And yet he felt completely helpless and it made his stomach squirm and writhe. But, he still had to be Ash Lynx. So he huffed, blowing hair away from his face and looking away from Eiji as though he couldn’t care less.

“Very clever of you.”

“Sorry.” Eiji was helping him back to the ground. And they were still close. Still very close and it didn’t seem to matter to Eiji that Ash stunk of sweat and mud.

“You’re strong.”

“I did high jump back home.”

“Did?”

Eiji looked down then, a small smile on his face. Ash knew that smile – it was a deflecting smile. So he went to take Eiji’s hand again. He couldn’t quite do it this time – not when he was thinking about it – he brushed his knuckles against Eiji’s instead.

“Let’s keep looking.”

All of the rooms were the same mix of modern and rustic. They couldn’t see any signs of life from the stables or barn and decided not to investigate in too much detail. The longer they looked the more Ash was aware that he was carrying around an empty gun. He wasn’t sure what he would do if they came across a zombie now.

There was a shed around the back. Although the wood was new, it wasn’t hard to break the lock on the door. Eiji’s eyes had sparkled with such excitement at the possibility of breaking in that Ash had counted them down and they had ran at it with their shoulders.

At first, the wood juddered from the frame but did not come away. They tried again. It buckled.

The shed seemed even darker than the house had been. There was nothing especially exciting in there – forks, shovels, empty buckets. Dead bluebottles and cans upon cans of paint. But there was a rather large chainsaw. With several spare blades.

Eiji ran his finger along the edge of one.

That was when Ash heard it. A thud. His first thought was that it was Max being the general lummox that he was, so he stuck his head out of the shed.

“Lobo?” he called. “We’re round the back.”

There was another thud and he heard a groan. He frowned stepping out of the shed and heading around the house. Were they hurt? It sounded as though someone had fallen. As he came around the side of the wooden building, he saw a figure on the porch step.

“Lobo?” he tried again. “Max?”

The figure twitched its head towards him, looking weary. Scared. It must have been someone like them. A survivor. The sun was blinding him and even when he shielded his eyes with his hand, he couldn’t make out any details.

“It’s okay. We’ve got supplies and we can help you.” He walked as he spoke and knocked a stone in the grass with his foot. The head followed the movement. That was when he first noticed how fluid the movement was, like the head was loose on the neck.

There was the groan again and as the figure pushed itself into an unsteady standing position Ash realised his mistake. He had let his guard down. His mind had been filled with emerald green grass and blue skies and expresso coloured skin. He had been away in Oz.

This was reality.

It wasn’t one of the women in the photo – but he had seen this man – this boy – in the photos in the house. He was tall, taller than Ash but even thinner. Broken glasses sat skewed on a face that was once pale and shy. Now there was a deep, ragged gash running from temple to chin, oozing dark blood that was crusting in a pool over him. Skin hung limply, as did his left forearm, from the elbow down. Ash could see bone poking through the flesh.

He wondered how the smell hadn’t hit him before. The smell of decay – an overpowering, vomit-inducing smell. Maybe he had gotten used to it.

No, as he stumbled back, he realised why. The barn was open. It had been punched at and the wood torn away until a hole was in the bottom of the door. That had let the smell out. A rat hung, dead, over the opening.

The boy had heard him, yellow eyes had focused on him like a sniper targeting it’s prey and he stumbled forward. Stumbled faster, picking up speed as Ash did, darkened lips curling over yellowing teeth in some resemblance of a smile.

Ash wasn’t looking where he was going. He was just walking backwards – running backwards – as quickly as he could. This was helpless. He didn’t have a gun that would work. He didn’t have any defence. He had been careless and he would pay the price.

Eiji would pay the price for his carelessness. He heard his voice, like he was underwater and it was coming from above the surface, “Ash!”

The boy’s head rolled to Eiji’s voice and Ash clapped. He didn’t know what he was doing – keeping it away from Eiji, he supposed. He was clapping and walking backwards and he didn’t have a plan. Ash Lynx didn’t have a plan. Ash was meant to have a plan. Ash always had a plan.

His back hit wood. It was such a shock that his legs gave way beneath him. Dead end. The boy was over him – close to him now – close enough that Ash could see maggots in the gash on his face, feeding hungrily at still moving flesh. Flies buzzed around yellow eyes – Ash could see every vein.

Not dead end.

Just another building.

Fucking move, Ash Lynx.

Don’t be helpless.

Never be helpless again.

His hands found the dirt, went to start dragging himself away from this monster as far as he could before his strength gave out completely.

A new sound appeared.

It sounded like a roar. A dinosaur roar.

Then his eyes adjusted. It was too mechanical to be a dinosaur roar. It was the whirr of a machine.

He stared up at the boy in confusion – just in time to see silver above his head. Then everything was red.

Red splattered out from the boy, the device still whirring away as it cast the world with crimson paint. The drops caught the sunlight as they flew. Red poppies. He covered an arm with his face to avoid the warm, wet feeling of the blood touching his skin.

When the whirring finally stopped, when he peeled his arm back to see the boy’s split body falling to one side – guts and organs spilling out like the insides of a cracker – he found a silhouette above him. He shielded his eyes with his hands and this time he saw clearly enough.

It was Eiji. Standing with a chainsaw hanging heavily from his arms, panting as he stared down at Ash. Eiji, covered in scarlet from head to toe. Eiji, who had just saved his life with a chainsaw of all things.

Ash stood – stumbled – using the wood behind him to support himself.

Eiji had just saved his life.

He was alive.

Eiji had –

He was stepping – bounding – over the body – moving without thinking.

Eiji had saved his life.

His hands were on Eiji’s cheeks, not taking a moment to look at him before he was slamming his mouth onto Eiji’s. He tasted of copper and sweat and nothing in the world had ever tasted better. He was alive. He was alive because of Eiji.

Fuck.

He was kissing Eiji.

He pulled away, stumbling back over legs that looked like they belonged to a broken puppet.

“Well,” he said. He didn’t want to acknowledge that. He wanted to keep moving. “That was-“ the word came to him – where he had seen a chainsaw before. “’Groovay.’”

Eiji shook his head – scattering poppy petals of blood onto the Emerald City of grass. “I had to help.”

“Thank you.” Ash said. He swallowed, got the courage to touch him again and put his hands on Eiji’s shoulders. “Thank you, Eiji.”

“You said that already.” Eiji said. At Ash’s confused frown, he pressed a hand to his own mouth. Smudged with blood still.

“Sorry – I’m – sorry, about that,” Ash said. “I didn’t believe I was alive.”

“You don’t have to apologize for everything, you know.” A ghost smile sat on Eiji’s lips.

There might have been a laugh, if there wasn’t a dead boy between them. Ash looked down at the body, flies still buzzing around it, readying themselves for a feast.

“We can’t stay here,” he said. “It’s not safe.”

“Max and Ibe-”

“We don’t know when they’ll be back. I don’t care about waiting for bullets – we can’t wait, Eiji.”

“They won’t be long, they said-”

“Eiji, no.” Ash’s voice was a snap. He forced himself to swallow, though his throat was too dry to manage it. All he could taste was blood. This was it, he told himself, he had to come out with some small truth. He had to let Eiji in on this one. “We have to go to New York. My brother’s been bitten.”

[your-highnessmarvel]

Cheers

Requested by Anon:  Can you do one where you and Loki are good friends but you both have feelings for each other (you're both oblivious but everyone else can see it) are at home alone drinking together and end up kissing, when everyone walks in and Thor and Tony both yell smth like "finally" or "it's about time" Thank you so much I love you and your account; it keeps me going 🌹

A/N: Merry Christmas! So I changed this up a bit because I got a crazy idea while reading this request. Thank you for sending this in!

Warnings: kissing, the gang being goofy, Steve blushing

*gif not mine

(tags at the end) If you wish to be added to the Loki tag list, please feel free to drop by my ask or my messages!

Send in your requests if you enjoyed!

Request guidelines

After a very successful mission, Steve and Tony put their heads together to organize a nice soiree for the gang. They’d invited everyone who they thought was cool; Fury, Hill, and even Loki, despite the one time he’d tried to destroy the entire world. Tony encouraged everyone to invite their significant others, hence the main room in the tower was bustling with people by the time 8 o’clock had rolled in. 

You sat by the window with Wanda, giggling over mission gossip, sipping on bubbling champagne. Steve and Nat were chatting it up with Bruce at the bar, while Thor and Val were playing around at the piano. Maria and Sif looked deep in conversation about fighting, while Fury was trying to listen in. Vision was trying to tell something to Tony, but the latter was shaking his head as if dismissing whatever Vis was saying. Other people were scattered around the living room, yet you could not find the dark-haired prince. 

Loki and you had been very good friends since the beginning. Since you’d joined, the prince and you had gotten close enough to start sharing secrets. His darkness became your concerns and your worries became his reason to start helping. You were both the newest additions to the team, despite Peter, and your friendship with the God was precious to you. 

Yet he’d awoken something in you that was thought to be dormant; affection. 

You cared for him deeply. On missions, you were constantly worried about him. Your eyes always found him, no matter where he was or what he was doing. Dangerous situations left your heart aching and your insides burning, always wanting to keep him safe even if he was a God and you were a human. 

Loki was silently sitting with Pepper, of all people, quietly discussing matters. Your eyes glued to his slender face, your eyes deaf to whatever Wanda was saying. He was wearing a black wool long sleeve sweater that was somewhat tight on his broad shoulders. He adorned black dress pants that clung to his ankles and shiny black shoes. The dark locks of his hair were swept behind his ears, framing his face elegantly. 

You chugged your glass of champagne, excusing yourself from Wanda. You got to your feet, gathering your dress in your right hand, and almost stomping off to the bar. 

“Vodka Seven-up please,” you grumbled, sitting on the stool, staring at the bartender with a sour expression. 

You’d never wanted to admit it, but you’d always felt something for Loki that was never reciprocated. All those longing stared and lingering touches were the effects of the aftermath of a mission, when death had almost captured victims and every thought they’d lose their loved ones. Missions had that downside; after, when the storm had passed and the damage was done, all that was left was to pick up the pieces and look for comfort. 

“Going hard, Y/N.”

Loki leaned an elbow against the glass counter top, smiling widely. His eyes were crinkled at the sides, illuminated by humor and mischief. 

“I’m here for a good time, not a long time,” you grumbled, grabbing the cold drink off the counter and taking a sip. Your eyes wandered secretly along Loki’s chest and his hands, which were hanging loosely off the bar, fingers fidgeting. 

“Is there something on your mind, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. Your heart swelled, and you sighed, making face that was between “I can’t tell you” and “I wish I could tell you everything”. 

“I’m afraid it’s not something you can help me with,” you answered honestly, wringing your hands, avoiding his piercing gaze. He watched you take a big gulp of your drink, wincing, which made him grimace too. 

“So you resolve to drinking yourself to unconsciousness rather than speak to your best friend?” he asked, the corner of his mouth turning slightly. 

You rolled your eyes, slamming your empty cup on the bar. “That’s exactly the problem Loki,” you mumbled, jumping to your feet and maneuvering around him. 

“What?” His voice was low and breathy, his eyes round and searching. 

“We’re friends.” 

You walked away, trying to hide the hurt in your eyes as you hid in the shadows of the hall. In the silence, you could breathe properly, sharply inhaling shaking breaths and trying to keep your eyes from stinging with tears. 

A long shadow appeared in the glowing frame of the hall, announcing Loki’s approach. You tried to escape, but his hand grabbing your elbow stop you midway. 

“Loki, forget it,” you grumbled as you stumbled into his chest, glassy eyes avoiding his green gems. 

“I have a problem,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Do you know what that problem is?” He shook you slightly. You clenched your jaw, looking at him from under your brows. His eyes were glassy and hard, his mouth in a tight line. Anger was like a torrential storm in his orbs; grey and tormented. 

“What?” you spat, trying to wiggle from his grasp. 

“I have a problem when you lie to my face and deny it,” he answered, his lips molding every word, his eyes stinging. “I have a problem when you hide things from me, because we are supposed to tell each other when things hurt us.” 

You sighed, going limp in his arms. “The thing is,” you started, “I can’t tell you because it’ll hurt our friendship.”

“You think our friendship is made of glass, Y/N?” His voice was harsh, like he always spoke whenever he was trying to get something through your thick skull. “You think our friendship will break that easily?”

You pushed him off, shaking your head vehemently. “It’s not something I can admit to and that can be forgotten,” you answered. 

Loki sighed deeply, licking his lips. “I promise you, no matter what you are going say, I will not turn my back on you.” 

Frowning, you took a step backwards. “You don’t understand,” you gritted. “I’m trying to protect us.” He started walking forwards, his eyes staring deeply into yours, fingers twitching by his side. “If I say this, there is no going back.” The champagne and the vodka had gotten to you, your cheeks growing red, your steps slurred as you watched Loki approaching. 

“Maybe I don’t want to go back,” he said. He was so close you could feel his chest heaving against yours with every breath. 

“Don’t make me do this,” you mumbled. His hand came to rest on your cheek. “Don’t make me ruin us and...” You frowned, ignoring the sudden silence in the other room. You had eyes just for Loki, who was smiling like a devil, his eyes glistening with care and affection. 

“You never shut up, huh,” he murmured, emerald eyes falling to your parted lips. You were about to protest, your mouth opening, but nothing left your mouth. He took the opportunity to lean in, brushing his nose against yours, embracing the last chaste moment between the two of you. “Now, are you going to let me kiss you or not?” 

Like an idiot, you nodded. 

He laughed, which was the most beautiful sight just before he molded his lips to yours, hands smoothing on your jaw. He moved his lips against yours, his tongue teasing your lower lip. On instinct, your hands found themselves in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. 

He pulled away, breathless, staring into your eyes. He was concerned, as if he’d stepped over the line, yet the smile you gave him was everything he needed. He returned for one more kiss, enjoying the taste of champagne on your lips and the softness of your cheeks. 

When you pulled away from that kiss, you were both heaving, laughing nervously. He slipped his hands into yours, keeping them between your bodies. “Now, are you afraid to ruin our friendship?” he asked comically. You rolled your eyes, yet nonetheless laughed with him as he pulled you back to the party. 

There were two men standing in your way; Steve and Tony. The former was blushing like a high school kid and the latter was smiling like he just won the lottery. Both you and Loki stopped in your tracks, mouths opened, ready to formulate some kind of pathetic excuse. But before any of you could get a word out as to why you were caught making out in the hallway, Tony extended his hand to Steve. 

“You owe me ten bucks, Cap,” he said, which made Steve blush a deeper shade of dark crimson. 

“Did they kiss yet?” Thor bellowed as he entered. Upon seeing the both of you, hand in hand, he guffawed loudly, plunging his hand into his pocket and retrieving a ten dollar bill that was poised into Tony’s awaiting hand. “Never thought they’d get around to it.” Then Loki’s older brother clambered out of the hall, leaving a perfect view of Bruce and Nat trying to peak inside. 

“Well, was ‘bout time you two came around,” Tony grumbled, scrunching up Thor and Steve’s money in his fist. 

“You guys...” you breathed, “you guys knew?” 

Steve shrugged, pouting his lower lip, nervously hiding his hands in his pockets. “It’s been an on going bet in the tower for months now,” he answered quietly. 

Tony clapped the super soldier on the shoulder, twisting on his heels. “Well, time for a toast,” he sighed. 

“Don’t you dare!” you yelped, running after him to the sound of everyone’s laughter. 

tags: @papi-chulo-bucky @fluasch @spudsandbandit @loki-god-of-my-life

[the-truest-sentence-i-know]

Chapter Sixteen | Harper Hanson

Fandom: Disney’s Descendants

Summary: Quinn Little, raised in Auradon by Little John, finds out that her heritage is not what she thought it was. When Little John tells her that her real father was a villain, she must go on a journey of self-discovery that will bring her to all the forbidden places in the United States of Auradon.

Pre-canon & canon compliant to the first Descendants film.

Word Count: 1.9k  |  16/23

ao3 ||| ff.net ||| wattpad ||| quotev

Two days later and Corinna was no better. She complained that it hurt her chest to cough and even breathe, and Quinn feared she may have bruised a rib. The book had warned of that.

She decided to have dinner with the rest of the Crew for the first time since the sickness had started. Sitting with the Sailors and Jukes, she heard the news from the rest of the island. As she had realized from the blond boy – Carlos – all gangs were suffering, especially those with younger members. Quinn hoped with all her heart that they had enough past knowledge to deal with this. She had been so focused on the Crew she had not given much thought to other VKs.

However they tried to avoid the topic, it was always there in the periphery. Contact between groups had greatly diminished, so Nia and Annabelle Tremaine, who had just started a fling, were separated.

“It just kinda sucks, you know?” Nia said. “We still hang out, but a ways apart.”

“Not quite the same when you can’t have your tongues down each other’s throats, huh?” Jukes asked.

Nabil groaned. “You didn’t have to put that picture in my head!”

Jukes grinned and slung back the last of their drink. “Hey, Hugo, where’s your kid brother? He’s usually hanging all over you.”

Hugo shrugged. “As long as he’s not following me around, I’m happy.” Still, he looked around with some concern; Harper was nowhere on deck.

Cyrus had recently come back from the shop, so Quinn called over to him, “Hey, Cyrus, is Harper hanging around the shop again?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t seen him all afternoon actually.”

Just then, Jade ran onto the ship, out of breath, eyes terrified. Jax, who had been sitting with Saoirse and Blake, was on his feet in an instant, crossing the deck towards her. “What is it, Jade?” he asked when he reached her.

“Harper, he went to get medicine for Corinna,” she gasped. Before she had finished, Hugo had bounded towards her. Quinn felt her heart sink as she remembered their conversation before Corinna fell ill. “He said Maleficent was hoarding the medicine,” Jade continued.

“The little idiot’s going to get himself killed,” Hugo said, stalking to the armoury. In minutes, the Crew was ready to go.

Jax pulled Quinn aside. “Quinn, I know you want to help but –”

“I’ll stay at the shop,” she said. “I’m of more use there.” She kissed his cheek. “Be safe.”

He nodded and led the Crew into the city.

•••

“Quinn!” came the desperate call.

Quinn rushed down the stairs into the shop. The door opened and she saw that it was Hugo, Nia, and Nabil, carrying someone that looked awfully small.

It was Harper.

They laid him down at her feet, blood streaming from a wound in his chest. Hugo’s face was desperate, face covered in tears. “Please, Quinn, can you save him?”

Quinn looked down at Harper’s pale face, scrunched up with pain. I’m not an actual doctor, she thought desperately.

But she quickly knelt at his side, pulling away the scraps of a shirt that still clung to his body.

“I need alcohol, needle and thread, and bandages from the first aid box upstairs,” she snapped at Nia and Nabil.

Using the scarf that someone had thrust at her, Quinn mopped up some of the blood. Nabil pulled a flask from inside his jacket and she quickly opened it.

“Now, Harper,” Quinn said quietly, touching his face gently. “This is gonna hurt, but I need to disinfect the wound.”

Harper nodded quickly.

“Take his hand,” she told Hugo, who did so.

Quinn poured the contents of the flask over the wound and Harper cried out in pain. She winced at the horrible sound but willed herself to continue.

Nia appeared out of the darkness and pressed a needle and thread into Quinn’s hands, which she doused in alcohol.

Her hands were shaking. The thread would simply not go into the eye of the needle.

A pair of hands took them from her and deftly threaded the needle. Quinn looked over to see Jax kneeling beside her. He looked a little beat up, but otherwise alright.

He gave her back the needle and squeezed her shoulder. “You can do this,” he said quietly.

Quinn nodded and leaned over Harper again. She had never done anything like this before. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the needle into the side of the wound. Harper’s entire body tensed up, but he stayed silent.

In and out.

Back and forth.

Just like sewing clothes, she told herself.

But he was still bleeding.

After she was done stitching up the wound, Quinn wrapped his chest up in cloth as tightly as she could. But before she could feel relieved in any way, the make-shift bandages were already soaking through with blood. Harper coughed suddenly, blood dribbling between his lips and down his cheeks.

“What’s happening?” Hugo exclaimed, looking up at Quinn from where he knelt at his brother’s side.

“I... I don’t know,” she said, sinking to her knees again. “Maybe... he has a punctured lung?”

Harper coughed again, more blood coming up.

“Well, fix it!”

Quinn stared at Hugo’s face and then at Harper’s. Harper was paler now. Checking his pulse, she noticed it was fainter. His breathing was growing shallow. His eyes began to close, his eyeballs begin to roll to the back of his head.

“No!” Quinn exclaimed, taking his face in her hands. “Stay here, Harper!” She could feel Jax’s arm around her shoulders, gripping her tight.

“What?” Hugo cried. “What’s happening?”

“Come on, Harper,” Quinn said, tears blurring her vision. “Fight!”

“Quinn!” Hugo’s voice was desperate and he choked back sobs. “Do something!”

Quinn stared at him, the tears in her eyes threatening to escape. She let go of Harper’s face. “I– I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I can’t– I don’t know how to save him.”

Hugo’s face broke, collapsed into itself as he desperately grabbed at his brother. “Harper? Come on, man. You can’t go!”

Quinn just stared, helpless, as the life left Harper’s eyes, leaving them glassy and empty. Hugo sobbed over his small bloody body.

Such a small body.

Jax was trying to pull her closer, to ask her if she was alright but she pulled away. Her entire body was trembling and there was a sob stuck in her throat. Jukes was trying to catch her eye but she turned away.

Quinn stumbled away from the crowd and then began to run. She sprinted down alleyways until she reached the edge of the city. There, she crumpled to the ground, the far-off lights of Auradon blurring through her tears.

And she screamed.

She screamed for Harper. She screamed for Hugo. But most of all, she screamed for every VK on this godforsaken island.

She screamed until her throat hurt.

And then she screamed some more.

Jax found her a little while later, kneeling on the broken concrete, her face in her arms on an old crate.

“Quinn,” he said gently, sitting down beside her. “Quinn, we’re going to do the goodbye ceremony.” His hand gripped her shoulder. “I know you’ll want to be there.”

•••

The entire crew was present, standing on the main deck of the Jolly Roger, which was situated as far out to sea as was possible. The magical barrier glistened slightly in the sunlight.

Harper’s body was wrapped in white and lay on the deck. Jax made his way to stand beside it. His face was solemn.

“Today we say farewell to a loyal member of our crew,” he said in ringing tones. “Though he was only a Powder Money, he was always ready for anything and fought bravely.”

Hugo – trying to put on a brave face – and a man Quinn recognized as his father, Hans, stepped forward. They each picked up either end of the white bundle.

“We salute you, Harper,” Jax continued. “And set you free from this prison.”

Hugo and Hans swung Harper’s body over the railing. The barrier quivered as the body passed through it and the splash sounded muffled on the other side.

Quinn’s realization of the harsh truth of life on the Isle seemed punctuated by that splash: the only way to leave was to die.

 Quinn slipped away before anyone could see the tears forming in her eyes. Up on the roof, she sat down at the edge and just let herself cry. Harper was so young, barely twelve, and already he was a victim of the violence and lack of resources on this island. How could anyone live a happy life here?

Hearing footsteps, Quinn quickly tried to wipe away the tears but then looked up to see that it was Jax coming towards her. He sat down beside her.

“You left pretty quick after the ceremony,” he said. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine... it’s just... He was so young.” she turned to him. “Is this the fate of every VK, dying in a fight?”

“It is a noble way to die,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“There has to be a way to change it.” Quinn wiped her tears away again. The time for crying was over, now it was time to think ahead. “This island needs to have proper medical care. That would have saved him. There need to be better resources here: doctors, police, teachers, psychiatrists, children’s protection services.”

“You’re forgetting one thing.” Jax looked at her. “Auradon doesn’t care about us.”

Quinn sighed and leaned her head against the wall behind her. “There has to be a way to convince people. I’m sure the Sherwood group would get behind it, the Undergrounders probably too.”

“Nothing’s gonna change, Quinn, because they won’t listen to a bunch of VKs,” said Jax. “We know that.”

“What if it could?” Quinn sat up straighter. “What if we could somehow communicate with Auradon and negotiate some things for the Isle? We could start to mend the relationship, at least with the children of the villains. I’ve always thought it ridiculous that the children have to share the punishment, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.”

Jax looked at her with a sudden realization. There was sadness in his eyes. “You have to go back.”

“What?”

“You’re the only one who can help us,” he said quietly. “You’re the only one who has been on both sides. You could be in Auradon without attracting attention. You understand us but you also understand them.”

Quinn felt her heart sink. “But it’s impossible, otherwise others would have made it to Auradon before.”

“No one has ever succeeded in making it to Auradon because they didn’t have help on the other side,” Jax said. “You do.”

He was right. Of course, he was. Quinn knew it was selfish of her to want to stay when she knew her presence in Auradon could help the kids here. And yet. “Jax, do you have any idea how long it could take to change public perception of VKs?” If it ever happened at all, she could not help but think.

“I know,” he said. “But, the sooner we start planning, the sooner it’ll happen.”

Quinn nodded, already feeling the ache in her chest at the thought of having to say goodbye to Jukes, the Sailors, the Crew. And Jax. “Jax, I –” She looked up at him.

He smiled sadly. “I know.” He took a breath and stood up, holding out a hand to her. Quinn took it and he pulled her up into a hug.

[crvdence]

something wrong? only everything ; cassius warrington character study

i. “you know? that big bloke who looks like a sloth”

cassius warrington is not deaf, and people are not exactly discreet. also, you could hear being called names a certain amount of time until it starts to get into you, until you start feeling how they become a part of you, creeping into your flesh and accommodating into your bones until you look into the mirror and see more sloth than bloke.

he was aware of the unjustified hate he was going to receive just because of being sorted at the  slytherin house, it's just, some days are better than others, even if every time he feels his spirits wavering, or his anger bubbling in his chest wanting to hex the entire gryffindor student body into tears, there's always graham montague's hand squeezing his shoulder.

ii. “eternal glory! that's what awaits the student who wins the triwizard tournament, but to do this, that student must survive three tasks. three extremely dangerous tasks."

there's this buzzing feeling inside of his chest, and looking around, he wonders if he's the only one who's feeling it. most of the people around him, seem more annoyed or bored than thrilled at the perspective of the triwizard tournament. flint is pissed, because it means no quidditch for the entire school year, montague looks uninterested and a few rows from where he is, he can see blaise zabini eyeing the beauxbaton's girls with fiery interest.

but he can't stop thinking about it, eternal glory, it sounds inviting, it sounds big, bigger than cassius warrington ever intended to be. and he fantasizes with the idea of showing all the gryffindor gits. he laughs thinking about all those stupid blokes calling him names, and looking over their shoulders, he fantasizes with the idea of having people admiring him, of people submitting to the hogwart's champion being a member of the most hated house.

cassius fantasizes and smiles to himself as if he's standing in front of the mirror of erised holding the triwizard cup, unaware of montague's eyes on him.

iii. "the champions will be chosen by an impartial selector... the goblet of fire.”

he doesn't tell anyone, as he wakes up before the dawn breaks to put his name in the goblet of fire, his fingertips are trembling when he's writing cassius warrington in a piece of parchment, and so is the rest of his body when he throws it into the goblet of fire. he still feels that flaming impulse inside of him, of wanting to be chosen, of winning, and cassius thinks this is the first time he feels anything close to pride.

he's surprised when he comes back to the dorm, and montague is sitting on his bed. his hair is sticking in every direction, his square jaw relaxed, and he's smiling at him with sleepy eyes in an almond shape, that makes him look softer than he actually is, and cassius grins back. “what will you do if you get chosen?” he says, assuming what he has done, not needing to ask any questions, and cassius just shrugs.

“showing them, i guess.” and with a proud grin, montague squeezes his shoulder again.

(by the end of the day, the rumour has spread and everyone is talking about him trying to become a hogwarts champion. gryffindors look at him with the same despective air, calling him names, but something has shifted inside the slytherin walls. flint has given him a motivational speech, as if he's ready to throw him to the tournament as if it's a quidditch match, parkinson and her gang a sly grin, crabbe and goyle a stupid thumbs up, and cassius swears that even nott, that silent and detached lad, has smiled at him)

iv. “now, let me be clear. if chosen, you stand alone."

he's nervous during the announcement of the champions, all the slytherins roar when viktor krum is chosen, and clap and whistle when fleur delacour follows him, and by then, cassius heart is beating heavily against his ribcage, so fast and so hard, he's sure that montague and bole, who are standing next to him, can listen to it clearly.

the next champion is going to be the champion of hogwarts and he feels like destiny is about to unfold in front of his eyes. there's still that burning desire inside of his chest of wanting to be chosen, so everyone has to defer to the idea of a slytherin champion, but at the same time, there's something much darker, lurking in the shadows and making his chest heavy.

cedric diggory is announced, and the disappointment falls on him like an overweight hippogriff. montague is squeezing his shoulder again, but at the same time, the goblet of fire starts bubbling up, and his eyes widened so much it's like they are going to fall from his face.

fate develops and shows itself in marvellous ways, cassius realises, and when dumbledore takes the piece of parchment out of the globet of fire, reading the name harry potter, the echo and the silence makes everyone speechless, and cassius can physically feel the rage, coming into waves from everyone's magic.

“bloody potter.” cassius can hear malfoy complain somewhere behind him, the loathe spilling like venom from the tip of his tongue.

and he still feels that heavy, dark and uncomfortable weight on his chest.

v. “that's my boy!”

in all honesty, cassius and the ninety seven percent of the slytherin students doesn't care who wins the tournament as soon as it's not harry potter, the main debate is between cedric and viktor, even if the bulgarian bonbon, has a few adepts and fans in the snake house.

cassius is a little bitter, however, during all the tournament, he feels like he could have done well in the tasks, with the dragon and then the lake. (and secretly, as he fantasized about the idea of hogwarts submitting to him as a winner, he also fantasized about saving montague from the depths of the lake).

but again, fate develops in ways cassius never imagined.

harry potter is holding a lifeless cedric diggory between his arms, and the air has changed. all the atmosphere is surreal, brutal, like time has stopped. everyone seems to be unable to move, and the only thing that pierces the heavy silence it's cedric diggory's father broken and desperate sobs.

cassius feels like his entire body is underwater, like someone has casted an imperius spell on him without noticing, and all his body is stone and grain, he feels a hand taking his, and he has the feeling he spends hours turning around, until he sees the face of graham montague, distorted in confusion, his eyes screaming: it could have been you.

and cassius nods, as if he's listening to him speak, clearly,  inside of his head; through the ruckus and the turmoil and the screams, before everyone is finally moving, and snape is trying to get all the slytherin students back to the dungeons.

his hand is still clinging to montague's, or maybe it's montague's the one who is clinging to him, until they both collapse in their dorms.

it could have been me.

(because if anyone thinks that being a slytherin means that you could be saved from the rage and the mission of the dark lord, cassius kindly invites them to the slytherin common room, to feel the tension and the silence, of draco and theo gravitating towards each other in controlled fear, knowing more than they dare to say, knowing it could be any of them soon, sooner than any of them wants to.)

vi. "cedric diggory was murdered by lord voldemort... the ministry of magic does not wish me to tell you this..."

secrets become more powerful when they start to be screamed aloud, even if people try to hush them and deny them, but it's not use when the truth it's there, exposed for everyone who is willing to see, so everything changes after cedric diggory's death. and cassius warrington can still feel the weight of graham montague's hand against his own.

hogwarts is mourning, but everything has tilted inside of the slytherin house, a turn so drastic and sudden that reality is distorted, no one seems to know what to do, where they are, where they stand and where they are supposed to be doing.

there's suspicion, and there's fear. the groups tighten and the silence intensifies, the owls come and go all the time, and people breathe out in relief when they don't stop in front of them during breakfast.

(it stops in front of theodore nott once, a letter from his father, everyone knows, and his hands are shaking so hard, it's pansy parkinson the one who has to help him to open it, before he leaves to the dorm with glistening eyes and a sick expression on his face.)

and cassius feels like he's dreaming, or having a nightmare, he's not sure. it's like his body is not quite his own, and reality passes in front of him like he's a mere spectator, he nods when people acknowledge him, he gives out curtly replies of monosyllables, but he feels the only connection which is real, tangible and important, is the warmth emanating of montague's palm when it presses against his shoulder.

vii. “remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of lord voldemort. remember cedric diggory.”

“it could have been me.” he has whispered one night. “i could have be chosen, and i could have died.” back pressed against the wall and his thigh brushing against montague's, in one of those nights they are supposed to be asleep, but that no one is. “and my father would have not mourned me...” he says, with a chuckle, bitterly, and bloody angry. his father could have been there, probably, when cedric was killed, along with flint's father, and malfoy's, and nott's. “and no one would have.”

cedric became a martyr of the dark lord's mission, and while hogwarts is mourning for him, and rightfully so; cassius couldn't help to have the feeling that he would have been a true spare. no one is going to mourn a loss of something, or someone, they truly don't feel sorry about losing. no one is going to miss it.

and next to him, montague's body shivers, maybe from fear or disgust or both, and when cassius turn around to check on him, he looks so pale he thinks he's about to get sick. and this time, it's his hand the one which falls on his shoulder, squeezing it lovingly, and the tears start to pool against montague's lashes.

and time stays still again. tears are something uncommon between them, something that's private and kept in the shadows, but as a transparent trail goes from montague's eyes to his cupid's bow, cassius feel there's something sacred about them, about seeing him cry, about sharing this moment with him, and his words get stuck in his throat, unable to say anything.

“i would have.” it's what it comes out from montague's mouth, his voice heavy and hoarse for his crying, and there's a sting of guilt and shame crossing all over cassius' body.

montague's hands have always been there, the only true memory, the only thing that anchored him to reality, from the very beginning, until now.

for @snakepitnet event: obscure slytherins you can read this in ao3

[atlafan]

Hey look at us! Look at us! Look how far we made it! From the beginning to the end! I’m sooo fucking excited and I’m ready to be a puddle of tears! Baby #3 I’m still crying tears of joy!! “Oh, honey, I’m gonna take you home and fuck your shit up!” Fuck me please!! Fuck me upppp! “I’m gonna get my head between your legs and just go to town” the wax is already on fire!!! @ Harry my legs are open... already horny on main!! This is a new record!! “Sorta have a craving for you stuff” DEAD! Part 2!

Part 2 I’m already dead Jordan!! My god! What a craving, lowkey it’s a goal! Harry jumping right in asking about dinner and the kids as well as taking care of his wife! YES! That shit makes me soft! But poor y/n hope she feels okay! Joshua or Jane! 🥺😭 so cuteeee!! The maternity shoot in the bed!! I can’t stop crying!! God harry with silver/gray hair... mmm that’s a thought!! 😏 the whole gang is back together!! “It’s my birthday so if I wanna love on my wife I’m gonna” where do I sign! Part 3!

Part 3 “let’s go bone on the couch in my office” I want this confidence! “I quite like what I’m looking up at” boom orgasm and he hasn’t even touched me yet! If Harry wants to eat me all day for his birthday i will not deny his birthday wish! Lowkey wouldn’t mind riding Harry while pregnant with his child..damn bookclub is on some weird crack tonight! A lot of sex talk! That was not birthday sex on the couch that was birthday love making on the couch! ITS A BOY!! Baby Joshua!! The tears! Part 4!

Part 4 i didn’t read the full name I just saw the word boy and cheered! Joshua Edward!AHHHH!! Them giggling in the car on the way to pick up their other kids! God what a goal!My heart is racing I’m so in love!! Joshy!!! So cute! It’s Nannie!! Harry being bombarded by all the old ladies!! 🤣 Nannie wants to buy their new car!! Nannie has put her foot down and you obey Nannie! Baby Jessica is 1!! Harry getting right to business on their anniversary!! He knows her like the back of his hand! Part 5!

Part 5 god damn Harry really loves pleasuring his wife!! I want! I love to hear Harry moan but gotta be quiet don’t wake the kids! The though of Harry sucking on my fingers... yup! A spa day!! Awww! The memories of the early days!! They are at Castle Island where he PROPOSED!!! The tears won’t stop! Their kids and friends are there!! Wtf!!! 5 years I can’t believe it! God my heart is so full!! Baby Jack is 4!! “You’re gonna have the best daddy in the world, Joshua” Dad Harry #1! Part 6

Part 6 I want to see dad Harry be the homework parent! Also Harry my rehearsals started back up you wanna rub my feet?! Him talking to your stomach to the baby! 🥺🥺🥺 god I’m soft for this man! “Harry only needed a couple of minutes down there to get you moaning” PLS! WAX! Those lips glistening from your wetness mmm!! Tbh I was thinking about this position.. back against his chest while fucking!! God what a scene! The wax! Oh man I need to go do this workout thing for my company be back! Part 7

Part 7 I’m back! I’m sweaty! But I can hide my tears now! The baby is coming!! Y/n was so chill like oh shoot look at that my water broke! Jessica is in soccer!! WAIT a few years meant HIGH SCHOOL?!? Holy shit! Jack into theater and photography! Ahhhh!! Josh with his band! The grey hair!! Ugh my heart!! It’s always amazing when someone tells you that your family member is hot.. like thank you I guess what do you want me to do with that information? Jack has my vote for homecoming king! Part 8!

Part 8 of course they have an eye roll jar! Harry if you want me just whisper “you’re a better dancer” and I’m yours! We will go back home... Alyssa you’re reading calm down no daydreaming yet! Jack won homecoming king!! All of this is thanks to Niall!! Or Harry begging for a date with y/n! Wtf!!! That ending!!!! Take it slow and my everything!!! Omg I’m crying!!! Like sobbing no cute cries it’s a mess!!! Jordan I’m in love!!!! That ending was *chef kiss* PERFECT!!

[peakyblinders1919]

Alibi

The second Isaiah opened the door you shoved past him so you were inside his house, spinning around, looking for something you weren’t sure of yourself and speaking frantically. "What's wrong," you asked, not waiting for him to answer, "you sounded frantic on the phone, I rushed over here as quick as I-"

"Y/N, calm down." He said, his hands heavy as they landed on your shoulders, causing you to stop mid-sentence. "Everything's fine." He beamed, his warm smile mis-matching the growing scowl on your face. Time stopped for a second before you launched your fists at him, hitting his chest between each word.

"Don't. Do. That." You said, watching him wince before deciding he had suffered enough. You crossed your arms, finished beating him but not done yelling at him. "I thought you were in serious trouble or something." You frowned, making your annoyance apparent.

"Yeah, well I am in a bit of trouble." You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue, because from what you could see he looked fine. "I'm meant to stay with my dad tonight but I've got somewhere to be."

"Really?" You asked calmly. "This shit again?” You said, slightly more irritated this time.  “This is why you're calling me? To be your fucking cover so you can go out and not get caught?"

"Y/N, come on, I really need you to do this for me." He begged and pleaded with you, moving around to catch your eye, but you were stubborn, keeping them on the ground.

"No Isaiah. I'm done."

"Y/N...what..." he asked confused, giving up trying to get your attention.

"I'm tired of being your alibi. I wanna go with you." There was a moment of silence as your words shocked the room, making Isaiah look at you differently now. He stood up straighter, taking in your petite frame that was home to someone so feisty.

This was the last straw. For months now you’ve been covering for Isaiah, always having somewhere secretive to be. Never having been the best of liars since you were kids, he had asked you the favor once, and you had only agreed if it didn’t become a habit. This was now the ninth time he was asking you to lie for him and you wouldn’t be his messenger anymore. He never told you exactly where he was going, and now you wanted to know.

"Y/N...do you even know where I’m going?”

“No, but I want to find out so that’s why I’m coming. I’ll tell Jeremiah we…we’re going on a date or something and we’ll go wherever you’re always sneaking away to.” You said, not meeting his eyes, afraid of what they’d reveal. You and Isaiah were childhood friends, but lately for obvious reasons you’d been drifting apart. You didn’t like him, or you hadn’t liked him since you were about 7, you were doing this purely because you wanted a change of scenery. And maybe you wanted an excuse to hang out with an old friend again.

“A date?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not a date Isaiah. It’s just our excuse. Where are we going?”

You never expected you’d end  up at the edge of a boxing ring, seeing your friend thrown inside. You weren’t ready to see so many shirtless, bloodied men all in one place, swearing like crazy and beating the shit out of each other. You walked cautiously through the crowd, the sporadic cheers from watchers as someone landed a good punch scaring you and causing you to jump.

“So… this is what you’re busy doing nowadays?” You asked after being in the gym for a while and growing used to it all. You leaned against the ropes watching Isaiah take off his shirt, and jump from foot to foot as a warm up.

“Yeah. It helps me keep my head clear.”

You watched him move with ease, definitely not the same kid you knew when you were younger who’d trip over his own laces. “What, you’re just so busy all the time you need a hobby to keep your head clear?”

“Yeah, work can be really demanding.”

“Right, the gang, how’s that going.”

“Shhh..” he said aggressively, stopping his practice to look at you. “Don’t talk about it so loud.”

“Sorry, are they gonna have to kill me now?” You teased but the look he gave you shut you up again. He laughed with the shake of his head, turning back to the bag to start punching before it was his time to fight someone. You let the other noises of the gym take over as you watched him quietly.

“You know, I’m glad I came tonight Isaiah. I miss hanging out, and well, we haven’t in awhile.”

“Look Y/N, I never invited you because I didn’t think you’d like this kind of thing. Not because I didn’t want to hang out with you anymore.” He flashed that smile at you again, making warmth spread through your body.

“I’m still not sure this is ‘my thing’ but I’m glad to hear that Isaiah.” You said again, matching his smile this time. All it took him was seeing the happiness spread across your face to land a powerful punch, right before they called him towards the main ring. He wrapped his hands and fixed his gloves, ducking under the ropes so he was next to you now. His skin was glistening with sweat. You were so close now you could see every individual droplet on his temple.

“I’m glad you’re here too.” He said, looking down at you. “Might actually win tonight.” He said, loosening up as his opponent walked forward. They called him forward and he was about to enter when your hand reached out to grab his wrist, stopping him momentarily.

“You’re not going to get hurt, are you?”

“Are ya worried about me?” He smirked, followed by a wink before walking past you and ducking under the ropes into the ring. You pushed your way to the front so you had a good view of the fight, and he was doing better than you thought he would. He was fast, dodging the guy’s punches left and right and than landing his own. As quickly as it had started it stopped too, the other man on the floor as Isaiah’s raising his hands in victory. Finn helps him out of the fight and you run over to him, throwing your arms around him, knocking the wind out of him momentarily. He’s taken aback, but hugs you, his gloves feeling weird around you.

“I’m all sweaty.”

“I don’t care.” You say, pulling apart after Finn’s frantic poking. “What?” Isaiah asks annoyed.

“We gotta go. Like now?”

“Why?” you ask, noticing Finn’s urgency.

“Uh, Arthur didn’t mention we were supposed to throw the fit. You weren’t supposed to win, they’re gonna come after us. We gotta go.”

“Shit!” Isaiah exclaimed, packing up his gloves and other things quickly. You stood there unmoving, not sure what exactly was going on. You only started running after Isaiah took your hand in his and jerked you forward, everything a blur as you ran, not sure where you were going.

“What’s going on Isaiah?”

“There was bets on the fight, so those big men lost a lot of money because I didn’t throw it. We just gotta go before they-”

“Find us?” You said, halting to a stop as they were closing in on you guys. “Too late.” You said as they lurched forward trying to swing at the boys. You stepped back, them not really seeing you as a threat as you watched your friends get beat. And you couldn’t just stand there, watching a real fight a opposed to one in the ring. Luckily two of the three men were already injured pretty well thanks to Isaiah’s skill but the last one was closing in on Isaiah and Finn as they tried regaining their breath.

“Hey!” You called, making yourself known and walking over to the man. You caught Isaiah’s eyes, who looked both intrigued and nervous at what you were just about to do. “Pick on someone your own size.” You said, never backing down as you tried punching him. You knew it had worked when pain ripped through your fist and ran up your arm. You heard a crack too and saw blood running down the man’s face. Time stopped for a second as everyone took in what just happened.

“Let’s go!” Finn called. You couldn’t move as you shook your hand, trying to get the pain to stop. It required Isaiah pulling you to start running again.

“Y/N...I...I can’t believe you just fucking did that.”

“Me neither!”

“You took out a man twice your size!” Isaiah called out as you continued running down the cold street.

“I know.”

You smiled at him, and stopped talking then as you ran as far away as you could, stopping once you were safely back on the streets of Small Heath.

“Man, I’m always taking you out from now on.” Isaiah said, looking at you sideways as you walked home.

“Fine. But next time you do, it’s going to be on actual date, like your Dad thinks.”

“You...you actually wanna go on a date?”

“If it’s nothing like tonight. I don’t want to have to punch someone every time we do go out.”

I didn’t edit so sorry if it’s got some flaws but Isaiah’s flawless

[simpcitybaby]

Don't cha know I'm in love

A/N: Okay so I have the song “Uptown Girl” stuck in my head so that’s kinda what this song is based off of, ya feel? Curly is such a fucking complex character and I wrote him my way.

PSA: That Was Then, This Is Now is on YouTube also I’m on mobile so this formatting is shitty, also I didn’t proof read

Word Count: 2703 words

Curly x Reader

Warnings: Idfk, swear words ig —————– Let’s Begin ——————- In the middle. That’s what you were. You weren’t a greaser nor a soc but you had friends in both categories. You were best friends with Sherri Valance and Angela Shepard, the three of you were unlikely friends. You were always caught hanging around with Ponyboy, Johnny, and the whole gang. Cherry would constantly invite you to hang out with her and Bob to which the answer was always no. Bob was a complete asshole and so were his friends. You met Angela’s brother Curly when you were 8, he wasn’t as bad back then but he always felt the need to upstage his older brother Tim. He would always tag along with you and Angela but you didn’t see him as much anymore since he was in and out of the reformatory for awhile. He managed to be released and today the Shepard gang was having a party for him which meant that you had the job of inviting your main greasers. You inched up the stairs of the Curtis residence and the door swung open, revealing Sodapop.

“You guys! Our little uptown girl is here!” You rolled your eyes at the nickname that he had given you so many years ago. Out of the gang, Soda was the easiest one to talk to when it came to boys and relationships. He was an absolute sweetheart but he’d get down and dirty if he needed to protect you or the boys.

“Maybe you should change the name to middle-class girl.” You poked your tongue out as you teased him. “Uptown girl has a better ring to it. It also sounds cool when we’re called the backstreet guys.” “You mean the Backstreet Boys?” “No (Y/N). Uptown girl is always looking for the backstreet guys.” You sighed before shaking your head, “It’d sound better if you said downtown boys.” You were met with the sound of a pencil scribbling across a piece of paper before hearing, “Ponyboy is going to write a song about you. Did you get that Pone?” Soda peeked over Pony’s shoulder as Pony read,

“Uptown girl, she’s been living in her uptown world, I bet she’s never had a backstreet guy, I bet her mama never told her why… That’s all I have for now.” The whole room filled with laughter when Johnny brought out a guitar and started playing some chords to go along with Pony’s new poem. “I came to invite you guys to the Shepards party tonight not to have a song written about me.” You laughed before Two-Bit piped up, “Are you excited to see your Romeo?” He was met with an eye roll and a quick, “he doesn’t like me that way.” “(Y/N), man. The boy has the hots for you.” A chorus of yups and who wouldn’t’s filled the air, causing you to blush.

Curly was stone cold and hardheaded. He never wanted to admit when he was wrong and he prided himself on the amount of arrests he’s had. He was never serious about relationships but he was always there for you. When you got a lead in the school musical he was the one who dragged Angela to go and see it. The whole time he was going on and on saying things like “what the fuck is this shit? Fucking stupid that’s what this is.” and “nobody actually does that in real life.” But he was lowkey enjoying himself and his smile widened once graced the stage with your presence. Curly even brought you flowers but reminded you, “don’t think too much about it. I just didn’t want you to be embarrassed about not getting any flowers.” You just smiled at him and reassured him that his bad boy image was still present and that you were thankful for his thoughtfulness even though you had several bouquets of flowers in your hands. On your birthday he had stolen a pearl necklace for you but quickly added, “You know I can’t afford to buy you pearls but I can steal some for you, so be fucking grateful.” Unbeknownst to you, his face lit up every time he saw you wearing the necklace.

Darry pulled you out of your thoughts when he said, “Don’t let them bother you. Just go home and get ready, we’ll pick you up say 8 o'clock and then head over to Buck’s.” On the way out you were met with Cherry’s smiling face, “I knew you’d be here! I want to help you get ready for the party.” She wiggled her brows suggestively before pulling you towards your house which sat directly in the middle of the South and East side. Sherri decided that she wasn’t going to go to the party because she didn’t want to be the reason that Bob started shit with the gang. So instead of being your wing-woman, she was going to dress you to the nines. ——————-Time Skip —————— Your body was clad in a yellow pinup dress while your feet were snug in your white vans. Your makeup was ideal and it accented your (E/C) eyes, making them glisten in the moonlight. Your stomach erupted into a flurry of butterflies as time ticked down. You were about to see Curly for the first time in months and you didn’t know what to expect. He always bragged to Angela that you were his better half but what if that changed? You wouldn’t be able to blend into the scene and hide from him since you were wearing a bright ass yellow dress but you wore it because Curly loved the color on you. If you had it your way he wouldn’t be in and out of the reformatory, he’d be home with you.

Meanwhile, Curly had dragged Angela into his room and said, “What the fuck do I wear, Angel?” Angela smirked at the nickname because she knew that she was anything but. “Since when were you worried about wearing the wrong thing?” “Since (Y/N) is fucking going to be there! Is that what you wanted to hear, you cold hearted bitch.” “Wear one of those nice button ups that you stole and some jeans. Oh! Also wear your jacket, not that you could forget it but bring it just in case she gets cold.” “Angela this isn’t a fucking movie and I’m not going to sling my jacket over her shoulders and be cold myself.” “You know you’d fucking do it you big softie. You really like her even though you wouldn’t say so. If you want a girl like that, you’ve gotta treat her right.” “Get out of my fucking room.” Angela exited as Curly threw himself on the bed, burying his head in his hands. He always went for broads but with you it was different. You couldn’t be classified in that category, you were too good for that label. He wanted to prove to you that he’s good enough and that he’s worth your time. You were his better half and maybe if you were around more he’d change his ways. Not fully of course but enough to stop going to the reformatory. “Ready to go, you little shit?” Tim’s head peaked into Curly’s room and with that, they left. ————- Bitch it’s party time ————– When you stepped outside of your front door you were met with the boys dressed fairly nice. “Shit, you guys look sexy.” You announced this as you guys started walking to Buck’s. “Don’t you look beautiful as ever, (Y/N).” Steve slung an arm over your shoulder as he said this, causing you to let out a snort while laughing. “Aren’t you something, Randle?” It was a fairly nice walk filled with banter and giggles but upon arriving at Buck’s you started to freak out.

All of the guys made their entrance while Dally stayed back with you. “Stop freaking out, man. You’re making me feel nauseous for you.” You glared at Dally and responded with, “Dallas, what if he’s changed? What if he doesn’t like me anymore? I should’ve stayed home.” You rambled on and on which led Dally to put his hand over your mouth. “Shut the fuck up already. You look like an angel among us all and if he doesn’t like you then he can go suck a dick. You can find someone better than him if he’s going to mess with your emotions. You’re a good kid and you’re gonna have fun, yadda yadda yadda. Let’s go fucking party now because this pep talk is over.” You smiled because you could tell that Dallas cared for you. The two of you walked in an were met with dim red lights and alcohol.

Out of everyone, Tim spotted you first. “Hey (Y/N)! Angela’s over there. Have a good time okay?” He ruffled your hair before pushing you in Angela’s direction. “FUCKING SHIT! MY BEST FRIEND LOOKS LIKE A GODDESS. I’M ABOUT READY TO DIE OVER HERE, YOU LOOK SO FINE.” You were met with an embrace and a whisper in your ear which said, “Bitch, Curly is over by the stairs leaning against the wall. He’s been waiting for you all night. If you were anyone else I wouldn’t let you talk to him but you’re you so go get your man.” She pulled away and stuck her tongue out before grinding on some dude. “How much money did someone pay you to wear that?” You yelled this over the music while walking towards Curly.

“Get lost broad, I’m waiting for someone.” The boy was glancing at the door, his eyes were looking at anything but you. How stupid is he? How did he miss you walking in if he’s been staring at the entrance all night. “Call me a broad one more time and I’ll punch your fucking teeth in.” Curly froze and slowly turned around before pulling you in by your waist. “I’ve missed you so fucking much, you don’t even understand.” “Curly, are you sniffing my hair?” He rose a brow and said, “Yeah. Problem?” You shook your head before gesturing towards his outfit. “You look nice! Why are you so dressed up?” If you looked close enough you could’ve sworn that he was blushing. “Just wanted to look presentable for a certain Uptown Girl.” He was met with a shove and giggles. “Curly Shepard got all dressed up for lil ol’ me?” “Shut up before I leave.” “You can’t leave, it’s your party.” “I’ll leave and I’ll take you with me.” “What’s stopping you?” Next thing you know you’re being dragged away from Buck’s and all the way to the alley down by the tracks. “As much as I like it here, I’m not looking for any confrontation tonight. Let’s go to the lot.”

You began pulling him in the direction of the lot before he said, “You make me want things that I can’t have.” Stopping dead in your tracks you turned to him and asked, “What are you thinking about?” “When ever I’m out of the reformatory I come to see you. It’s always been you. I scare away anyone who even has the thought of hitting on you because you make me feel things. I hate myself so much for these fucking feelings.” You walked closer towards him and urged him to go on.

“I should’ve told you that I felt this way a long time ago but I didn’t want to screw things up. You have everything going for you, (Y/N). You’re the Uptown girl and I don’t want to drag you down with me. The Shepard gang only gets worse with age and I don’t want to be the reason that you don’t succeed in life because damn it, you deserve so much more than this.” Curly sighed and ran a hand through his hair while his eyes became glassy.

“Curly Shepard. I am so in love with you that I want to throw up whenever I’m near you. You make me a good kind of nervous. You’re always there for me when I’m doing productions or feeling down. You have this whole, I hate the world, persona but with me you’re different. You just need someone to love you and show you that there’s still good in this world. I can be that person.” Your arms looped around his neck as he let out a nervous sigh. “I feel like I can’t breathe, (Y/N).” Your fingers danced across his face, tracing every single trait and then they played in his curls. “I can’t let you get mixed up with me. I can’t lose you. I can’t let you throw your life away for me. I can-”

Soft lips were met with another pair. Delicate and pillow like. He tasted like cigarettes and alcohol mixed with a bit of icing from the cake they had at the party. You tasted like chocolate covered strawberries and all things sweet. He couldn’t pull you in any closer but he damn well tried. You guys ran your fingers all over one another in the most passionate kiss there was. Although you initiated it, he deepened it and kissed you softly as though you could break. Both of you guys pulled away in a dire need for air after your tongues just battled for dominance. “I’m willing to help you better yourself if you’d let me. I don’t necessarily want to change you because I love who you are. But if you’re scared of dragging me down, we can build each other up together.” “I’d like that. So we’re in agreeance that you’re mine and I’m yours?” You nodded before leaning your head on his shoulder as you guys continued your walk to the lot.

You shivered a bit, swearing because you were going to bring your jacket but Cherry didn’t let you. “Here.” Curly slid off his near and dear leather jacket then proceeded to help you slide your arms through the sleeves. “Shit. I’ll have to thank Angela for this later.” He whispered it under his breath but you caught on putting two and two together. Angela and Cherry must’ve planned it out so that this moment would happen, you definitely had to thank them later. At the lot you guys stared at the stars and traced each other’s features. He stared at you with loving eyes as you fell asleep in his embrace.

Johnny and Ponyboy happened to be on their way to the lot and when they saw you two, Pony whipped out his notepad. “Why were you carrying that, Pone?” Johnny gestured towards the notepad and pencil “New song lyrics, man.” He scribbled before turning the notepad so that Johnny could read it. “She’ll see I’m not so tough Just because I’m in love with an uptown girl You know I’ve seen her in her uptown world She’s getting tired of her high class toys And all her presents from her uptown boys She’s got a choice” After seeing the lyrics, Johnny dragged Pony to the Curtis household in dire need of his guitar to put the lyrics to music. ~ Fin ~

Jk there’s a bonus part: “I swear to who ever the fuck is up there in the sky that if you hurt our little uptown girl, I will personally take care of you.” Dally had Curly’s shirt balled in his fist but was met with laughter. Right in Dally’s face, Curly said, “Hey Pony did you hear that? No? I could’ve sworn that I heard a little bitch!” “We’re serious man, we’ll hurt you.” Curly nodded and said, “I could never hurt that girl in a million years and if I did, you guys could personally kill me but make sure you let Angela get in on it.”