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rallamajoop · 1 year

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An absurdly detailed analysis of That One Soldat Photo

Hang around wintersberg fandom long enough, and you'll likely run into a popular crack-theory that, since Heisenberg obviously thinks that building a set of huge, yellow-painted signposts is a good way to point Ethan to the Stronghold, maybe it's Heisenberg who's been leaving all those handy, yellow-painted supply crates all over the place for Ethan to find! It's exactly the kind of fun nonsense I'd enjoy if it didn't feel folks are starting to take it a little too literally (by which I mean I have now read multiple fics in which it's played completely straight ‒ and, like, people do get that it's just a crack theory, right? Like, why would Heisenberg have left so many yellow crates around his own damn factory? Look, you don't have to explain every last game mechanic, not everything is lore!)

But as anyone reading my own fic would know, I'm guilty of echoing the idea that Heisenberg-was-leaving-stuff-for-Ethan myself ‒ just not because of any yellow-striped crates. No, I'm way more interested in this one weird soldat-photo you can find in the village ‒ long hours before you'll ever see your first Soldat in the flesh...

Very creepy. And if you turn it over, you'll find a clue to a puzzle you'll have to solve in order to progress.

(And of course, when you do look out the window, odds are you'll get jump-scared by a lycan just when you're focused on the numbers, because RE8 loves that sort of misdirection ‒ but I digress.)

Anyway, the code you can see out the window will open a safe containing a jack handle you'll need to move a vehicle in the village, as well as the M1911 pistol (which will very likely be your go-to handgun for the rest of the game). The game is full of conveniently-helpful clues like that (heck, most games are), often with no obvious Watsonian justification. And there are other photos around the village ‒ Luiza has a whole photo album ‒ but photos of experiments created by Miranda and her lords don't generally turn up outside their own territory.

For a player exploring the village for the first time, that photo is a lovely little bit of foreshadowing, hinting at monsters and factory stages to come. But on replaying with full knowledge of Heisenberg's later attempts to get Ethan on his side, that Soldat photo is just enough to make you go, huh... did Heisenberg leave that for Ethan? Like, on purpose?

You can find another copy of that photo later, in Heisenberg's factory, along with his notes on his early series Soldat experiments. Which doesn't really prove anything beyond the fact that assets exist to be reused... but it does at least make it pretty canon that Heisenberg has photos of his Soldats sitting around.

Possibly also significant: both the clue photo and the factory documents are tagged 'geekmemo' in the game files. Most everything related to Heisenberg in the files is labeled 'geek'-something ‒ it seems to be an early nickname for his character that lasted well into production. Everything in the factory is geek-something, even the model for the passageway from the altar to the bridge is labeled 'pathtogeek'. Considering that so many soldat-related assets are already labeled 'geek', maybe that 'geekmemo' tag doesn't really tell us anything we don't already know ‒ but it certainly doesn't work against the idea that Heisenberg wrote that 'memo' himself.

Besides, it's not like there isn't precedent for this kind of thing. RE7 had a whole mechanic where you'd have to find 'treasure photos' pointing out the location of a few rare and useful items, all with "I hid something here" written on the back. We're never explicitly told who left those photos lying around, but it's obviously Lucas: he loves playing games, he loves taunting prisoners with the possibility of escape, and who else would it be? The complete population of the Baker mansion is like 6 people and a bunch of semi-sentient mould.

Over in RE8, there are a lot more village resident who might have left that clue lying around. Like it or not though, Heisenberg is very much RE8's equivalent of Lucas: the family's wildcard show-boater who loves making Ethan jump through hoops for his amusement. So how does the game let us know it was Heisenberg who left this particular clue? Well, who else would leave a message on the back of a Soldat photo?

There's may be additional supporting evidence Heisenberg could be involved ‒ most notably the location, being a locked-off cul-de-sac labeled 'Workshop' on signs and maps. The area is full of metal junk very much like you'll later see lying around the factory.

The workshop location does have other relevance ‒ it makes sense that you'd find the jack handle in the village workshop, whether Heisenberg was involved or not. But it also stands to reason that if there's anywhere in the village proper where Heisenberg might hang around and leave clues for Ethan, the workshop is it. And you have to admit that leaving Ethan useful stuff in a safe along with an easy clue that will likely get him jumped by a lycan is 100% more in-character for the guy than just leaving useful stuff out in the open, even if it doesn't really prove anything either.

There's one more weird-little does-this-mean-anything detail: there are three dead crows near the safe too.

It's not the first time in the game you've seen dead crows (there were a bunch outside the village, and I've talked about what that might mean in the context of Miranda's cult before). But I don't remember finding any others around the village itself, other than in this one spot. And instead of being hung from trees like a ritual sacrifice, these ones are just dead ‒ messily, and with blood everywhere.

Now, maybe it doesn't mean anything, but is there anyone in the village more likely to vent his frustrations by violently killing a few of Mother Miranda's avian avatars than Heisenberg? I'd think not.

In conclusion: I still don't think all those yellow crates have anything to do with Heisenberg. And I still don't know for sure whether the RE8 development team wanted me to assume that Heisenberg left Ethan that photo, jack handle and gun. I don't know if we're supposed to read that Heisenberg keeps a workshop in the village and sometimes kills crows out of spite. But the evidence sure does point that way ‒ and it's as valid an interpretation as anything else you might take from this game.

#wintersberg #Karl Heisenberg #Ethan Winters #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #meta

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pherelesytsia · 1 year

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Who did this to you? - 9

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend’s house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing

Word Count: 2.7k

Part 8

Chains, bloodied and graced with torn rotting flesh, moulding in the light of the wanning moon, dangled in all directions in the howling wind. Bones cracked under polished shoes freckled by grime and coated with rotting leaves. The lightbulbs among the broken were shining faintly, breaking the doom, the utter darkness ruling in the endless corridor leading into different vacant rusty halls.

The wind was howling, a lonely wolf, a hound greeting the full moon. Water dripped through the holey ceiling of metal and musty wood. The old building, far away from civilisation, with shattered windows barricaded by boards was surrounded.

The man clothed in a form-fitting suit didn’t bear a map, didn’t need a compass to find the right path. The faint stench of mould lingered in the stiff air. Rats fled in great haste, screeched and warned the brothers hiding in the holes in the ground and empty chests. A few dark grey strands illuminated the dark sea. Untroubled Thomas followed the path. His fingers tapped against the polished metal. He did not put his gaze over his shoulder, focused on the light showing the end of the tunnel. Deep hush voices exchanged brief words and the grin on his lips widened, thought of ways to harm the men who had dared to touch his wife.

Thomas tilted his head. The light hit the tip of his shoes, but the Shelby, a demon, the devil himself waiting patiently, remained in the shadows. Deftly, he leapt to the side, hiding behind the cargo crates stacked high from India, Africa and the far East. Footsteps echoed and a soft whimper, a kitten, a newborn calling for its mother, fell silent. More men, dark dressed creatures, followed the order with drawn weapons and waited for the signal. Thomas leaned forward, peering through the crack between the crates. Two men, shabbily dressed, stood in the light of the flickering yellowish bulb, but his keen eyes couldn’t find the source of the whimper.

“The money?” the thinner one pecked, wiping the oil from his fingers on his trousers.

The taller one laughed, folding his arms in front of his bulging chest.

“The woman will pay us off. I called her. By the end of the day, we’ll get the money.”, “We should have killed his wife right away,” the other said, leaning against the cargo boxes.

“Karl, I would have killed her, but the other guy came. We would have died otherwise. I know him, Solomons. He would have killed us,” he interjected.

“And what are we supposed to do now, Jimmy?” Karl questioned.

“And what will happen to us, Karl?” Jim asked.

Karl shrugged his shoulders. Eyes widened in shock, screams followed, bullets pierced flesh and grazed bones. Men in suits stormed the old run-down complex, a tsunami swallowing villages and towns. Closely followed by his men, Thomas entered the room, stepped closer with his gun drawn, fired and hit the bull’s eye, ran ahead, searched and cursed, but didn’t find the woman. Sweat cascaded his face, turned, and hoped the men could answer his questions, but the eyes had paled. Cursing, Thomas stared at his brothers opening the crates in the hope of finding Peggy in one of them.

“Where is she?” Arthur asked, heaving.

John cursed, nearly fell into the crate. Perplexed, he stared into the distance, cursed under his breath, turned with paled features towards his brothers and mumbled a short prayer.

The moon wandered on, over land and mountains, on and on, climbing hills and swimming over lakes and raging streams. Under the cover of the moon, ghastly shadows crept forth. Light burned in the mansion far away from civilisation, from towns and villages. The vehicles parked in front of the mansion were not neatly lined up. Curtains were drawn and didn’t allow to witness the people warming themselves by the flames, gnawing on the hardened biscuits and awakening the sense with the dark unsweetened liquid. The phone didn’t ring, and the bell didn’t announce a guest.

The clock was ticking, heels clicked against the creaking hardwood. Voices had died down, the women did not chatter as the gentle voice breathing delicate word into the microphone sang of love and gentle kisses. The women exchanged meaningless glances, glanced at the man they thought would never enter the house, who had settled down by the fireplace and was leafing through the book with his legs crossed, staring again and again at the doors and windows in search of grim faces pursued by evil intentions. Y/N warmed her fingers on the cup filled with tea and dipped her tongue in the warm liquid.

“Don’t worry, they will be here soon. It’s just a matter of time. Don’t worry, my dear.” Ada breathed.

She flashed the shaking woman a smile, breathed encouraging words, but they couldn’t banish the fear from her heart.

“They’ve been gone for a long time. At least three hours now.” Y/N breathed.

“You worry too much Y/N/N. The Shelby can take something. If he’s not here by seven, then we’ll go looking for him together.” Alfie joked.

Y/N stretched her arms into the air. Sleep gnawed on her bones and the voice in her head assured her that all would be well, that Thomas was on his way back, that the door would open soon and he would stand with Peggy and a promise to change by her side. She counted the seconds, focused on the clock, yet Y/N had lost track of time and space a long time ago. Her eyes widened. The tiredness was gone with the wind. Groaning, Y/N jumped and threw the blanket away. A wall, the last wall of defence rose in front of her and a palm settled on her back.

“Come, little one. We will go together. You stay here. I have everything under control. I saw a car.” Alfie said.

Y/N tried to argue, telling him to stay with the others, that she wanted to go alone, but no words crossed her lips and nodded. Alfie smiled, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, stuffed his gun into the pocket, and guided Y/N away from the richly set table. Keys jingled. Alfie pushed Y/N behind him, but the young woman went ahead. The cold air brushed her skin and painted her cheeks. Brows almost touched. Y/N looked questioningly at Peggy, shook her head, and lips parted.

“Peggy?” Y/N whispered, not believing her eyes, convinced she was about to awake from a dream.

She looked healthy. Not a drop of blood clung to the long white evening dress, looked like a woman on her way to church to walk down the aisle. The hair was laid in curls, dotted with pearls and glass shaped in tears. The bouquet, white and red flowers fell to the ground. A smile, false as a fox’s, sweet as a snake’s voice, spread on her lips.

“You’re well?” Y/N questioned.

“Why shouldn’t I be well? I am glad to see that you are well. I see nothing happened to you while I was away. I told you to wait for me at home. I could never have forgiven myself if something bad had happened to you.” Peggy spoke coldly, stoically, emotionlessly.

“Where’s Thomas? He’s out looking for you. I was worried about you.” Y/N uttered.

Spreading her arms, Y/N wanted to enclose Peggy in a tight hug, but fingers clawed deep into the thin material covering her, forcing her to stagger backwards.

“Alfie, can you please let go of me?’ Y/N demanded.

Y/N turned and stubbornly demanded to be let free, but Alfie shook his head.

“Why do you have to make everything more complicated? Get in there and don’t do anything stupid or you’ll all regret it. Are we clear?”, “I wouldn’t do that.” Alfie interjected. He removed his hand from the pistol and rose his hands into the air after he pulled Y/N closer to his chest.

“Peggy?” Y/N breathed, hoped the person bore a mask, but it was Peggy.

Colour drained from her features. Cold metal pressed deeper into her skin. Bloodshot eyes forced Alfie to step back and told him not to dare to waste a single thought about doing something he might regret. Questions nor curses crossed Y/N´s lips pressed into a fine line. A lonely tear cascaded down her left cheek and left a red burning mark on her skin. Y/N questioned her life, every decision she had made, every word and complain she had said to Peggy in hope she would aid her. Synchronically, Ada and Polly arose, aimed, but no shots pierced the air. Peggy chased Alfie away to stand by the wall and he listened and placed the weapon on the ground as the women as Peggy stood tall behind the crumbling shield.

“Why?” Y/N inquired, her heart bursting through skin and bone.

Peggy laughed and combed through Y/N´s locks with her long light-coloured nails.

“I should be in your place. It would have been so easy. But those idiots let you get away and then you were at my door and I just had to let you in. I called these fools. I knew they would be at the bar, and informed them that you were with me, that they should walk in and take care of you. I then set off here, wanting to inform all of you that something might have happened to Y/N. I would have taken your place, but this man had to interfere with my plan.” Peggy joked.

Her bloodshot eyes slid from one person to another and pointing her finger at the tall man settling down on the armchair by the crackling fire.

“How would you have done it? The Shelby wouldn’t have to believe you. Nobody would have.” Alfie questioned, with his arms crossed in front of his body.

“Nobody? Suddenly everybody was searching for Y/N. When I returned home, she was gone. I am a good actress, I had classes when I was young and played in the theatre, always the evil and wicked,” the woman huffed.

She chuckled.

“Thomas would have believed me. I would have played the good friend, helping him through this rough path. I just wanted to play the worried friend. I would have helped to find Y/N and then after a good month the case would have gone cold. The postman would have brought a letter from overseas and the problem would have been solved. Thomas would have found a good friend in me and later a wife,” she sneered.

“But they trashed your house.” Y/N breathed, eliciting a malicious laugh from the mad woman.

“I was a bit angry and had to let my anger run free. My plan was perfect.” she huffed, stroking Y/N’s skin with the weapon.

“You wanted to kill me?” Y/N breathed.

“No one cared about you, you told me everything, your former husband barely cared about you, you slept alone, spent your days alone, were air for everyone, I didn’t expect anyone to care about you.” Peggy laughed.

Y/N gulped, nodded, and breathed a soft prayer, prayed for the safety of all of them a few steps away from her.

“A confident woman. Why would I marry you?” a deep voice sneered.

Smiling, Peggy turned around, fixed her hair and let go of Y/N, but she was rooted into the ground, turning into a statue overgrown by moss.

“All these months you’ve been using me.” Y/N

The veil fell, and the wind carried away the dense mist. Y/N balled her hands into fists, nails bore deep into the soft flesh, but no sound escaped her lips. She faced Peggy, unfearful of the weapon in her right hand.

“You never told me to give Thomas a chance, to at least try to get along with him. You never said anything nice about him. When he gave me flowers or chocolate, you told me he’d cheated on me and feared I would find out.” Y/N whispered, her voice raising with every fallen word.

She remembered the forgotten, the lonely nights, the long calls, the endless hours spend in the small room and crying her heart out to the wrong person, hoping Peggy would help her like only a friend could.

“We spoke on the phone when Thomas didn’t come back that evening and instead of telling me that he must be working but you swore on your parents’ lives that you saw him in the arms of a woman.” Y/N cried out.

Y/N faced her friend, unfaced and untroubled by the loaded gun.

“I suppose that was a lie, too. Probably everything you told me was a lie,” Y/N whispered.

She remembered the nights she was pouring out her heart and the answers that were as false as the snake’s words. She raised her eyes and looked up at Thomas. The man swallowed, saw the questions in his wife’s eyes and smiled.

“I was never unfaithful, Y/N. I was a terrible husband, but I was always faithful to you,” Thomas assured her.

“I believe you,” Y/N whispered, but Thomas had heard the answer.

Y/N advanced, oblivious to the woman in the wedding garment, wanting to go towards her husband, but Peggy made it impossible for her to do so, getting in the way.

“Enough of this sweet talk.” Peggy chuckled.

Metal dazzled the eyes. She grabbed Y/N by the collar, scratched her skin, pressed her tightly against him. And the men and women, apart from Thomas, recoiled with their hands up. Thomas stashed his hands in his trouser pockets and nodded, guessing what she would demand.

“You let me out and nothing will happen to her.” Peggy requested.

The Shelby nodded, exchanged brief glances with his brothers.

“Good, go, you know the way. You hand Y/N over to me at the door. I leave my gun here and you put yours away. Do we understand each other?” Thomas spoke.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands here, Thomas, but I’ll take your offer. But I want them out of here. I want them all out of here in the kitchen.” Peggy interjected.

Thomas gestured to his siblings to leave, nodding, indicating that they should be on their way, that they shouldn’t worry, but his eyes betrayed him. Slowly, they rose from the sofa and did as Thomas ordered them again to leave. Heels clicked against the hardwood. Hush voices exchanged words, and the door slammed shut.

“Can we go?” Thomas probed.

Thomas walked ahead, showed the way, paused at the open door, pushed it wide open and motioned the woman to leave. His hands clenched into fists. He wanted to free Y/N from the woman’s clutches, heard the soft whimpering as Peggy grabbed her former friend. Teeth gritted. Peggy stopped and turned with Y/N.

“Here you go.” she shoved Y/N in his direction.

Y/N staggered forward, threatening to fall like a soldier, but arms wrapped tightly around her body, pressing her tightly to his chest. Thomas breathed loving words into her ear, pressed his dried lips on her skin and pressed featherlight kisses on her cheek. He murmured a prayer and begged for her forgiveness. Sweat danced down his face. He pressed another fleeting kiss on her temple. Thomas put his hands over her ears, deafening her to the screams and bullets piercing the air and suddenly, after all this time filled with screams and prayers, silence reigned over the land.

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flying-nightwing · 5 months

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Moonlight by the Docks (And They Say Romance is Dead) - Slade Wilson

Hi. It's been a while. But guess fucking what babes, I'm pulling all the stops to be forgiven. It's been more than a YEAR in the making, and mark my word it probably won't happen again so take it all in, but here is the Deathstroke smut a LOT of you have been wanting. Y'all, this is the long awaited sequel to Tango à Deux. Please forgive me?

(it's technically a sequel but can be read as a standalone if you accept that batsis and Slade already know each other)

Also, enjoy!

Pairing: Slade Wilson x Nightshade!Batsis

Word count: 4721

Warnings: violence, death/killing unnamed NPC, porn with plot, dirty talk (lots of it), unprotected sex, p in v, batsis and deathstroke fighting for dominance (NO classic dom/sub dynamics bc that's a pass for me), more dirty talk, body fluid, kinky shit, creampie, biting, rubbing, rough sex, reference to voyeurism, major praise kink, everything is extremely consenting and willing by both ADULT parties, might have missed something but I think if you made it this far you're into it.

Have fun ;)

“Nightshade, status”

You barely heard Batman's hushed check in as you barrelled into a boarded up window, breaking the moulding wood with your shoulders and rolling out of the building as bullets rained over you. You wasted no time getting back on your feet, starting to sprint away from the semi automatic rifles rapid firing in your direction.

“Nightshade, status?”

“JUST A MINUTE” You yelled as you dived behind a large container, flinching at the sound of the bullets hitting the metal and ringing loud into your head. “Fucking fuck shit”

“What's going on?” Batman's voice grew agitated despite remaining a low hiss. “Talk to me Nightshade”

“Wrong fucking intel!” You replied as you jumped on your feet again, taking advantage of the opportunity window their reloading gave you to run across the dockyard to find better cover. “It's happening now! There's at least twenty guys here, all trained and armed to the teeth. And they're all on my ass right now”

What was supposed to be a simple recon mission with a possibility of stealth takedown op turned into a giant mess at the first opportunity. The second you slipped into the warehouse, you quickly realized that the three guards on shift that you had been briefed about was, in fact, a small militia that was ready to be deployed on some combat mission, or that's what you believed was being said before you got made.

You would have also liked to know in advance that the building was littered with state of the art tripwires, movement detectors and heat sensors. Alas, you had gone in believing it was just a normal warehouse, and you had realized a moment too late you had triggered pretty much every alarm on the upper floor and very much alerted the militia of your presence.

“Tell me your position, I'm coming”

Your eyes went to the containers around you, taking as much information as you could without slowing down. Going into the maze of old containers was a great idea until you had to describe your surroundings. “I'm westbound, but those crates all look the same, B”

“On my way”

You ducked as much as you could to make yourself smaller as the symphony of bullets bouncing on the metal caught up to you. You took a hard left, trying to remember which way was more likely to not end up with a dead end, then went to your right. You could hear them shout, not giving up the chase, but you still tempted a look over your shoulder. They weren't on you yet. You faced forward and picked up some speed, rounding the corner towards the darkest and narrowest path to the left.

Before your eyes could even adjust to the shadows cast by the containers, your feet lifted off the ground and a large gloved hand was slapped tight on your mouth. On instinct, you began trashing to get away before your back was pulled flush against a hard armoured chest with a strong arm locking your waist against it.

“Quiet, little bird”

The militia paused at the crossroad, then after a string of barked orders, turned right. At the same time, your brain took in the orange and dark grey of the armour around you and pieced it with that voice you couldn’t mistake for anyone else's. You stopped struggling, yet, he didn’t release you. His hand was still firmly cupping your jaw while you could feel his other arm flex around your waist.

He tsked as the echoes of the yells grew more distant. “Once again getting in my way. What will I do with you now?”

You replied something, but it was muffled by his glove. You reached up and pulled his hand down, but he still let it linger on your neck once your mouth was free. You felt a bit weak in the knees and cursed yourself for getting turned on so easily, and even more for your next words. “Hopefully finish what you started last time if you’re not a coward”

Oh, that was so not the thing to say right now. You felt his hand around your neck tighten enough to be noticeable, but still loose enough for you to weigh your next words carefully. The yells once again grew closer, telling you the militia found a dead end and were backtracking towards your position.

“Do you really want to do this right now?” His voice was so close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. As much as pouncing on him right there and then was generating divine images in your brain, you were still being hunted down by an enemy who’d be on you much sooner than later. And well, if you died riding Deathstroke, Bruce would bring you back to life just to kill you himself, his own code be damned.

“As much as I wanna say yes,” You breathed back. “This bunch of angry men want me dead, so I believe the smart thing would be to deal with them first”

He released you. “Alright then. I’ll be here”

Your feet were fully back on the ground and you turned around to face him. Wow. You had been so right in your assumption that his other suit–namely, the one he was currently wearing–would be hotter on him. Even in the dark, he looked positively glorious and mighty delicious in all that armour, and with a small armoury worth of weapons strapped all over his, big, strong, menacing body–

You forced yourself to calm your thoughts down. “A little help would be appreciated”

“Why?” You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew it was full of smug arrogance. “I’ve got my own mission here. Who says they're part of it?”

You glanced in the direction of the ever growing noise, then back to him. “C'mon, I'm literally about to have sex with you, the least you could do is make sure I'm alive for it”

He sighed loudly. “I suppose you make a compelling point”

The militia rounded the corner and spotted you as Slade stepped between their fire and you. In one swift movement, he pulled out his sword and twirled it in his hand, as if provoking the armed men in front of him. For a moment, he just stood there, shielding you from the onslaught of bullets suddenly incoming your way. They all bounced on the front of Slade’s armour, painting him off as some kind of god of war, and you couldn’t help but gawk at the sight. You were so caught onto just how hot he looked that you almost didn’t register him springing into action and starting to cut through the group.

You reached for your karambit blades in your thigh straps and followed him in, making sure not to stray too far from his shadow to keep your cover from the fire.

You waited for the reload to duck under his arm, sliding on your knees in a spin and slicing the tendons of two men. That sent them straight into the path of Slade's swords, adding to the bloodshed. You swiftly returned behind him as another round of bullet was fired, but by the sound alone, the number of gunmen was plummeting.

The next reload came and you once again stepped away from him as he brought his two swords down onto some poor son of a bitch. You noticed a knife coming down and aiming for the small opening between his suit and his mask, so you sprung into action.

Literally.

You used his propped up knee to propel yourself up and jump onto the guys' shoulders, gripping onto him by squeezing your thighs around his skull. He tried to get you off of him by spinning and thrashing like a mechanical bull, but you held on tight. He was getting desperate to throw you off as pressure grew around his head, lifting his knife in the air to stab your leg. You were faster however, reacting on instinct and plunging your karambits into his neck.

He began sputtering as he tried to claw at his throat, blood squirting out of his artery and onto your suit. He dropped down to his knees and you got off, only then noticing he had been the last one standing. Key word, had been. He fell down on the floor in a puddle of his own blood as you observed him. Then, you felt like you were being watched intensely.

You trailed your gaze up to see Slade on his feet and unmoving among the carnage he had mostly caused. You couldn't help the thoughts that flashed into your mind, or the way your body reacted to it. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, wondering what the hell was wrong with you.

Because somehow, you found it fucking hot.

And the fact that he did all of that just to get a taste of you? Yeah that did it. You completely switched your brain off as your feet took determined steps to him, quickly closing the distance to him and paying no mind to the bodies littering the floor. The second you were in front of him, you ripped his mask off and kissed him hard.

And he was ready for you. Without a single after thought of hesitation, his gloved hand yanked your hood back and cupped your neck, dragging you back in the shadows with him.

Just like the first time you sneaked out in a quiet place to make out, his lips were rough and insistent on yours. His hands were busy mapping your body, gripping your hips tight as he pushed you back onto the metal of the container. Like a reflex, his fingers seeked your back for a zipper, but found none. He kept searching for the proper way to undo your suit, until he pulled back with a glare of frustration.

You rolled your eyes. “I'll take care of mine, take care of yours”

Of course it was hard to figure out, it was made as such. But telling him that would only push him to try and get it and you weren't nearly patient enough right now to nurse his ego.

In practiced motions, you undid your belt and unclasped several buckles that held the top part of your suit to the bottom. You barely had the time to pop off the button of the waistband that you were pushed once again on the cold metal, a much larger hand quickly replacing yours.

Your pants were quickly undone and his hand slid down your stomach, reaching their destination with haste. You gasped as his calloused fingers began working on your clit, rubbing it in circles at a pace that was both tortuously slow and absolutely fantastic. His free hand slapped on your mouth just as you let out a moan that would have definitely bounced around the whole shipyard.

He tsked. “As much as I would like to hear you, I'd rather not get interrupted by another armed militia. You'd agree, wouldn't you?”

Your breath shuddered and you nodded. Still, his hand didn't go away.

He gave you a smug smirk. “I'll keep it there just in case”

You didn't even think about arguing, instead, you squeezed his forearm to encourage him to keep going. His fingers expertly worked you, alternating between pressure and friction and making your eyes roll back into your skull. Your hips followed his movements, chasing more friction from the fabric of his glove. You were greedy for him, for his hands, for his body. All you wanted to do is take, take and take, and luckily for you, he seemed more than happy to give it all to you and more.

“That's it little bird, fly for me”

His hand moved just right with his words, and you couldn't do anything else to obey his command. You let go and came harder than you had in years, your vision going completely white for a second. Good thing his hand was muffling your voice, otherwise you were sure the whole city would have heard your scream bouncing from the dock.

When he was certain your whimpers had quieted to an acceptable level, he took off his hand from your mouth and caressed the side of your head. “I think I like you like this” He hummed. “Being a good girl for me”

You were already half coherent from your orgasm, but him calling you a good girl like this, even if it was most likely condescending, was definitely getting you worked up for round two. “Fuck, if this is what you give me every time, I'll be whatever you want”

Oh yeah, you were NOT thinking with your brain at the moment.

And the groan coming from him did not help calm down your heartbeat. And judging by how his entire body flexed along, you could only figure out those words of your equally turned him on, creating a feedback loop that threatened to keep you here with him until well past sunrise.

Like a man starved, he shoved you back into the wall with his whole body, pinning your naked hips with his. You took in a sharp breath when his hard cock rubbed against your sensitive clit, spreading your orgasm all over his pants. Before you can make any more noises, his lips were on yours, reclaiming back with interest his dues from the previous ride. The grinding of his hips against yours drove you delirious and made you forget everything that wasn't about him right now.

He reached between his body and yours and pulled out his cock, letting it bounce on his chest piece and stand proud, already glistening with precum. Just like the rest of him, he was huge. Good thing you had a whole waterpark going down there, otherwise he would never have fitted. He snaked his arms around your thighs and put his hands on your ass, then hoisted you up like you weighed nothing more than a feather.

“Not one drop on this suit” You warned breathlessly as he lined himself with you.

“What, no more ruining your clothes?” He raised a teasing eyebrow.

“That dress was worth pocket change compared to this” You replied, eyelids half open as you forced the moment of clarity. “Buying me a new one would have you file for bankruptcy”

“Fine, no stain whatsoever” He drawled out, leaning into your space once again and ghosting his lips on your ear. “Will you be my good girl and take it all inside then?”

The spell you had broken returned tenfold over you as your knees buckled. It took you several seconds to find your voice and prepare an answer that wouldn't be an embarrassingly loud moan. “If I say yes, will you get going?”

The pressure from his tip at your entrance alone made you whimper in absolute delight. This is what had been peeking more and more often in your naughty dreams ever since you met, and more often than not they ended with your hand doing what you now knew was a mediocre impression of his.

Slowly, he lowered you into him until you couldn't go further down. You were so full of him it was literally impossible to think about anything other than the pressure between your legs and the massive cock impaling you. That too, had been greatly underestimated by your imagination. Nothing would have done the real thing justice. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him just a little bit deeper, and it took all of his restraint not to start fucking you like an animal after that.

“Fuck little bird,” He said, his voice low and rough. You hadn't started moving yet, but a quick squeeze around him made him let out a low grunt that you would definitely replay in your head later on. “You always take ‘em that easy?”

“I think that's only you,” Feeling bold at how much he tried to act tough about it, you decided to return the favour. You snaked your arms around his neck and pulled yourself closer, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses up until you reached his ear. “Maybe your little bird has just been dreaming about getting railed by the big bad wolf one night too many to give him any resistance”

He switched his hands from your ass to your waist and pushed you back roughly on the wall. The angle changed and stars flashed in your vision for a moment.

“Why don't you tell me about those dreams?” His words were demands and he started moving inside of you, hips thrusting forward in a tortuously slow movement. Yet, it made your body sing along, meeting him halfway.

“It always starts with you dragging me off to a dark secluded place after I said some shit to get you hard” You smiled as he kept hitting the right spot. Your focus on his questing was a lifeline you gripped with all you had not to just become some fucked out doll for him. You intended to make him work a little more before getting to this point.

He gave you a particular hard thrust that made you gasp for air. “Keep going on, little bird” He grunted in your ear.

“And then– Fuck” You threw your head back on the wall. He wasted no time claiming your open neck, grazing his teeth on the skin. “No marks either”

You could practically feel him rolling his eyes, but he backed off with the teeth and kept going on with his lips. “And then what?”

“And then we rile each other up properly” You smirked as you threaded your hand in his hair and gripped hard. The low reverberating moan that came out of him combined with the very obvious twitching of his dick inside of you nearly made you finish right here and there. “Your head between my legs, taking good care of me…”

His thrusts definitely picked up speed as your words hit their mark. He did nip your neck at the moment, but it was light enough that you let it fly.

“Then when you show that you know how to warm me up, I'd get down on my knees–” That made his hips jut forward and hit a deep spot in you that made you moan like a whore. “Maybe– Maybe even let you fuck my face if your tongue made me cum hard enough–”

“Fuck, who knew Gotham's little princess had such a dirty mouth on her, huh?” He straightened up and returned his glove to your oversensitive clit, brushing it hard enough to catch your voice in your throat. “What would everybody think if they saw you so eager to be my good little fuck toy?”

That would be a proper scandal indeed.

“I don't care what they'd think” You managed to mumble. It was getting harder to keep your mind sharp now that he had begun rubbing you again. “They can even watch, as long as they don't interrupt”

You should have kept your damn mouth shut, you realized seconds later. You had obviously called irony upon yourself just by speaking the words.

“Nightshade?”

It was like you were suddenly doused with a bucket of ice water. You grew rigid as your earpiece came to life with probably the last voice you wanted to hear right now. Your eyes slowly widened as you remembered that your father was on his way to be your backup. And him walking in on you and Slade wouldn't be as low key as it had been with your brothers. There would be bloodshed.

Slade obviously noticed your change of attitude and paused his thrusts. You dreadfully raised your hand to your comm and double tapped it to turn on the mic.

“B?”

It took a few seconds for Slade to understand what was going on, and the shit eating grin he gave you told you he definitely wouldn't make the next step easy. With his good eye never leaving your face, he began thrusting again, challenging your murderous glare.

“I got delayed by another armed group in the shipyard,” He explained. “I’m on my way now. Where are you?”

You thanked whatever divine intervention that put obstacles on his way, because you had totally forgotten about him once you had caught sight of Slade. You were in an uncomfortable situation, but not as much as if he had walked on you. You took a moment to come up with a good enough excuse to keep him away just a little bit longer for you to get out of this mess. In the meanwhile, Slade still kept at it, obviously trying to make you slip. “Um, I–” You coughed to hide a gasp as he hit you deep.

‘Fuck you’ you mouthed to Slade, which he replied in the same fashion, ‘Already am’. That fucker.

“Nightshade, what’s going on?”

You could have killed him right there if he hadn’t been doing it so right.

“Nightshade?”

“Yep, uh,” You took a deep breath and got a hold of yourself. Batman was getting impatient and you had to start being credible. You made a show of coughing exaggeratedly before speaking your next words, your eyes never leaving Slade's. “Just got sucker punched. It's fine though, it just took me by surprise. T'was nothing but a weak shot”

Slade’s smug expression faltered just a little, and you gave him your own version of the shit eating grin he was no longer giving you.

“Ok, where are you now?”

“I've backtracked and now Northbound, but I’ve got it under control” You took the opportunity of your previous lie to breathe deeply and counter some of the absolutely not family-friendly noises that were threatening to come out of your mouth instead of words. “But I’m not the only one here–” Deep breath. “I was being chased, and then I wasn’t. Only a couple of guys kept my trail… Somebody is picking out targets here. I think it would be smarter to fall back on the meetup point and recon”

“... Are you sure?”

“Positive” The word came out short and dry. “I think they might have done the same”

“Alright, I’ll reroute”

“I’ll catch up to you” You managed to say without tripping. “Nightshade out”

You made sure your comm was definitely off before hitting Slade on the chest. He only let out a quiet chuckle at what most likely felt like a breeze to him. “Asshole”

He leaned forward and rested his whole forearm on the container behind you, then thrust up. The new angle had you rolling your eyes in your skull, seeing black and orange stars in the blur of your vision. “Gotta make you pay somehow for all that work you made me do”

“As if you haven’t enjoyed it– oh”

He resumed his pace from before the untimely interruption, effectively cutting off your train of thoughts. “Now little bird, I believe you have somewhere else to be. Such a shame I don't have time to make you beg for it”

“Mhhfp, fine” You muttered as your arms went back around his neck. “Just because you have been quite compliant with my demands–”

He seemed confused for a second, until you pulled yourself up and nuzzled against his neck, letting out your prettiest little moans every time his hips hit yours. With your voice low enough just for him to hear, you gave him what he wanted.

“Please Slade, I need it” The out of rhythm thrusts and the low grunt that you felt through his chest told you everything you needed to know. “I need your cum inside of me, fuck your cum into your good girl”

He slapped a hand on the wall behind you and wrapped his other arm around your waist, moving you faster up and down with his own thrusts forward. He grunted louder and louder in your ear, getting closer to his release. You had no idea if it was the begging or his reaction to it that turned you on, but you were getting pretty close as well.

“Fuck, little bird” His voice was rough and low, and you couldn't help the nip to his throat instead of something louder. “I'll ruin you– I'll fucking ruin you”

“Please ruin me” You whined, feeling the familiar crescendo of your orgasm build. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, please, I'm so close, please don't stop”

“C'mon, be a good girl and cum for me”

He drove you into the wall with his hips and the friction of his belt on your clit drove you to the edge. You had expected it, but holy shit, your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your walls clenched around him hard and you pulled him deeper into you with your legs, holding onto him with everything you got. Your vision fully went white and your teeth bit into his neck like they had a mind of their own.

After a string of swears, he completely lost his rhythm and stilled, his hips sputtering forward and spilling inside of you with a low moan that almost got you ready for another round.

You didn't move for a moment, focusing on catching your breath. Your eyes were half closed, glazed over, watching sweat pearl over Slade's exposed skin and your bite mark slowly disappearing on his neck.

“Something interesting about my neck, miss Nightshade?”

A genuine smile curved up your lips at his comment; the same he had made all those weeks ago when you were waltzing around the dance floor. “Just admiring the view, that's all” You signed, content. “Why, are you afraid I will bite it off?”

He shook his head, looking up at the sky in a failed attempt to appear annoyed that you also remembered exactly what you replied.

“Huh, I guess you were into it after all” You mumbled as you slowly let yourself slide off of him and fell back on your feet.

He took a good look at the mess he had made, seeming satisfied at how your knees slightly buckled as you hit the ground. Without a word, he pulled himself back in his trousers and readjusted his belt.

You then started to pull back on your suit, the rough material now sitting uncomfortably on your sweaty skin. “That's gonna be a bitch to clean…” You thought aloud, realizing tonight's run was far from over and the many body fluids would have time to nicely settle in the fabric.

“You said not a drop on the outside” Slade commented, then pointed at the clearly not soiled outside layer of the suit. “And none there is”

You couldn't help but laugh as your eyes subconsciously went to his own suit, where the glistening on his thigh guards extended to darker spots on his trousers. Anybody catching a glimpse of it would know exactly what caused the wet spot, and nobody would mistake it for him soiling himself. “Can't say the same for you”

He looked down, then frowned in what you could only describe as a cartoonish way. “Hm. This is upsetting. Whatever will I do”

Both of your eyebrows shot up as you let out a short laugh of disbelief. “What that… a joke?”

He only gave you a stern look that didn’t quite reach his good eye as he put back his mask on.

“Oh, he has a sense of humour now? Who would have known” Despite your half dizzy state, your brain still found enough drive to tease him about it. Considering he was rearranging your guts minutes ago, you believed it was now fair game.

He pointed a warning finger at you after he finished making sure everything was strapped correctly on his armour. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood”

You rolled your eyes as you flipped back your hood on. “Yeah I fucking bet. ‘Can say thank you Nightshade about it”

As expected, he elected not to comment on that. He only turned around and looked over his shoulder. “Until next time, little bird”

You did gratuitously check out his ass as he walked away, then prepared a damn good reason to give Batman to explain your dishevelled state.

#slade wilson x f!reader #slade wilson x batsis!reader #slade wilson x reader #deathstroke x reader #deathstroke x f!reader #deathstroke x batsis!reader #dc fic #dc writing #dcu #DCU fic

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glossysoap · 1 year

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📝⛓: ready to comply hc/drabble ; meeting stray !!

note: a little stray content to tide y’all over until i post the rtc chapter 4 !!

as always, the russian is in bolded italics, and the english translation is right after it in non bolded italics.

🏷️: @viylikescats @warenai @fullmoon-94 @breadboyye @kiroshang @lunitalloronaa @itzzjxlyn @lonely-ofc

You found stray in an old russian neighborhood, 2 months or so after escaping HYDRA. Stray was only a few months old, her ears weren’t even up yet, when you find her in an abandoned crate. A create that was way too small for the puppy, outside of a rickety home. The puppy was malnourished and whining.

You see the crying puppy scratching to be let out of its crate, and your heart cracks open. Before you knew it, you were already using your metal arm to rip open the metal gate to the yard and then stomping over to the small crate.

You knelt down in front of the crate and unlocked the crate before opening the door. The sable colored puppy was curled up in the corner of the crate, looking at you with wide eyes. The puppy was hesitant to come close and trust humans after being stranded in a crate.

You almost felt a kindred spirit with the puppy, after being tortured and manipulated, moulded to a killing machine — hesitant to trust other humans. Animals never hurt you, so this puppy couldn’t hurt, right?

You sat criss-cross in front of the open crate and stretched your right arm out, keeping your metal arm away so it didn’t scare the puppy. The puppy tilted her head in question, honey brown eyes staring into your (eye/color) eyes.

You whistle to get her attention and try to entice her to come out of the crate.

“иди сюда.” Come here. You tried, making your voice gentle for the scared puppy.

The puppy was still reserved so you even patted your lap to encourage her to lay there.

“хорошая работа!” Good job! You cooed as the puppy scrambled up from her position in the crate. She shook her tan, floppy ears out before trotting out of the crate.

One the puppy was about to step out of the crate, you gently picked her up by her under arms. There was glass and debris on the grass and you didn’t want the puppy getting any cuts.

You lifted the puppy up in the air briefly. “Ты парень или девушка?” Are you a boy or a girl? You muttered aloud, tilting your head to see what was between the puppies’ legs.

“О, ты просто маленькая девочка!” Oh, you’re just a little baby girl! You said, looking into the puppies eyes, stroking her small, soft face with delicate hands. She was letting out little anxious whines so you held her close to you.

Her small, frail body curled into you as you cradled her into your chest, making sure to support her head. You gently bounced her and shushed her to keep her comfortable as her whines died down.

She tucked her head in the crook of your neck and smelled you for a moment before nuzzling her little head back in there, letting out a pleased noise. You reached up to stroke her soft ears, rocking her in your arms.

“That’s right. My little Malyshka.”

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

#mw2 x reader #glossywrites; ready to comply⛓#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader x soap #john mactavish x reader #cod x reader

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fhplasticmould · 5 months

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Quality and Durability in The Production Process of Plastic Crate Mould Supplier

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Moreover, Plastic Crate Mould Suppliers prioritize continuous improvement and innovation in their processes to enhance mold quality and durability. Feedback from customers, as well as insights gained from real-world performance data, are invaluable in driving iterative improvements in mold design and manufacturing techniques. By embracing a culture of innovation and collaboration, suppliers can stay ahead of evolving market demands and technological advancements, ensuring that their molds remain at the forefront of quality and durability.

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In conclusion, Plastic Crate Mould Suppliers employ a multifaceted approach to ensure the quality and durability of their molds. From meticulous material selection and precision manufacturing processes to rigorous quality control measures and ongoing innovation, these suppliers are committed to delivering molds that meet high standards of quality and durability. By prioritizing customer collaboration and post-production support, Plastic Crate Mould Suppliers uphold their reputation as trusted providers of high-quality molds for plastic crate production.

#Plastic Crate Mould Supplier

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justmeinatree · 11 months

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01 - Astoria : Ripplin On By

Summary : you find yourself trapped on a pirate ship, desperate to be saved. or is the pirate that needs saving …

feels far from home close to the veil, goodbye mother’s fairytale

TW : murder, talks of sexual assault

Word Count : 5k

A/N : we can all thank @niallthebadboi for reminding me of the niall/james corden halloween music video 🤐

“oi, mate. mate, come here,” he whispers, his index finger in a come hither motion.

niall’s ears perk up, the quietness of the lower deck echoing even the faintest of sounds. he looks behind him, spotting one of the crew members, furrowing his eyebrows, “what is it ? m’a little busy.”

with his boots sludging through the thick waters on the bottom deck of the boat, the smell of the salt water mixed in with mould due to the slowly rotting wood, niall was filtering through boxes upon boxes. he knows he can find what he’s looking for, if he’s just given enough uninterrupted time. christ, there’s a lot of shit down here.

“did you hear ? there’s supposedly a lass on board.”

and well that, makes niall laugh, shaking his head, “don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that rumour. no way there’s a lady on this ship. not a single lass, in her right mind, would board onto a boat with a bunch of pirates. bloody death wish if she does,” he adds, muttering to himself.

“nah, s’not a rumour lad. can’t you feel it ?” he hums, smirking, dirty brown teeth poking through his chapped lips. “we can all tell. the energy’s different. oh what i would do to get my hands on a sweet young lady.”

“bloody disgusting you,” niall laughs, shaking his head. although he can’t help but fantasize about a woman from time to time. spending the majority of his adult life on a ship full of men, and maybe, just maybe, he can feel some sort of shift in the air. but that could simply be all the idiots up on deck getting themselves worked up for nothing. it’s not like it’s the first time niall hears about rumours like this one.

“can’t tell if i’d rather have a little taste, or pray for her wellbeing when she’s found,” he hums, shaking the thoughts out of his head, making his way back up, calling down to niall, “whoever finds her first gets first dibs.”

niall huffs, turning around and getting back to his task at hand. there was obviously nothing to get worked up about. because there was obviously no girl on the ship. they haven’t ported in almost a week now, no way a lady would have made it this long. pirate ships aren’t exactly anything close to nice accommodations.

but for now, he searches through crate upon crate, why they had so much crap stuffed away down here, he’ll never know. no one ever comes down here anyway, it’s too sludgy and too rotten. it’s not until he rounds a corner that he hears the small squeak. he’s no stranger to rats and mice, but this, well this wasn’t quite it.

peering over, he spots someone.

you were terrified. fear stricken over your features, back pressed against a wall ? some boxes ? you weren’t sure. it felt like your breath had caught into your throat, fingertips going slightly numb, unable to move an inch, as you stare back at him, panic settling into every bone in your body.

“hey,” niall hums, confusion etched on his face, because fuck, there really was a girl on this ship.

you coward back at the sound of his voice, small whimper leaving your chest, barely heard over the creaking of the old wood. your eyes squeezed shut, ready for the worst. it was hard to see his face, only small cracks of daylight filtering through the old wood to illuminate the dampened space. and with his hat perched upon his head, the specks of clarity weren’t quite reaching his face.

“no, no, s’alright,” niall murmurs, hand darting out for you, quickly retreating it when he notices you flinch away.

“please dont hurt me,” you hiccup, tears filling your eyes.

“m’not gonna hurt you, it’s okay,” he coos, trying to muster up as much calm as he can. although he can’t say he’s felt much of anything remotely close to calm since joining this crew.

“no,” you hiccup again, bottom lip starting to tremble, pressing yourself impossibly further back. “i- i heard yo-you talking,” you stutter. “i know you’re gonna-a hurt me.”

“no, no,” niall coos, shaking his head. “that’s not-. you heard the othe-.” he sighs, biting his lip and starting over. “m’niall, what’s your name, love ?”

“dont call me that,” you huff, the tiniest bit of bite to your voice.

that pulls a smile from niall, a slight breathy chuckle, “alright, m’sorry. how about you tell me your name so i know what to call you.”

“y/n,” you murmur around a few deep breaths, trying to regulate your heart as your brain determines if there’s any imminent threat or not.

“y/n,” he hums, tasting it out on his tongue. “what are you doing on this ship ? s’not safe for you.”

“i messed up,” you peep quietly, fresh tears gathering in your eyes. “everyone was gone, and i just picked a boat. didn’t think there were pirates ported at the docks.”

niall bites back a laugh, not wanting to upset you, but still, what were the odds really. he doesn’t think he’s ever met someone with such bad luck. “we have to eat too,” he chuckles, “gotta reach port sometimes. have ya seriously been here all week ?”

you nod softly, sighing, “when they started coming back onto the ship, i ran down. just kept running. v’been hiding out here. you’re the first one to come down this far below deck.”

“you’ve been down here all week ?” he asks, shocked, eyes grown wide. “fuck, you can’t stay down here that long, you’ll get sick. there’s too much mould for you to breathe in.”

“i’ll take my chances,” you murmur, biting your lip, looking up at him with desperation, “s’better than going up there with the crew.”

and well, niall cannot disagree there. thinks he’d rather live down here with the rot and the sludge if the alternative was to head up to the crew and have every shred of his being ripped apart. so he nods, looking sadly at you, because you’re right, there’s no denying it. “must be hungry then. how about i get you some food ? try to track down some fresh water,” he suggests.

at that, you perk up, eyes shining with some level of hope for the first time, in a week, apparently. you nod, looking hopeful at niall, asking curiously, “when’s the next time we dock ?”

“not for at least another week, m’afraid,” he sighs, adding a bit more enthusiastically, “don’t think about that right now, just sit tight, i’ll be right back.”

and with that niall was off, bounding up the steps, loud wooden creaks echoing under each of his boots. he makes a bit of small talk with a few other crew mates as he passes them, fishing through crates and flour sacks full of beans, biscuits, and salted dried meats, grabbing a good handful of each, tucking them into his satchel.

unfortunately, he doesn’t remember a single day as a pirate where he’s actually had access to water. it’s always been beers and ales and rums. at least that’s what’s made readily available.

if he was going to find water, he’s going to have to sneak around, and sneaking around takes time. time he doesn’t think he has. for some reason, he fears for your safety. you were so innocent, so fragile, so full of fear when he found you gazing back at him. he can’t even begin to imagine what the others would do if they found you. doesn’t think he’ll be able to live with himself if he has to watch that innocence get wiped off your pretty porcelain face. he may be a pirate, but his mam raised a good man.

and although the crew typically never hits the lowest deck, one of them is bound to discover you. especially with the flying rumour of a young lass on board.

so he decides, for now, that some ale is the best he can do in terms of beverage, figuring he’ll have more time to sneak around once all the lads are passed out drunk for the night.

when he returns to the lowest deck, he finds you sitting on one of the large crates, feet tucked up to give your poor skin a break from the constant saturation. he feels his heart grow heavy. a now foreign feeling to him, as he’s learned to grow a thick callous around his emotions. if he spends too much time contemplating his life decisions over the last decade, he’ll throw himself overboard. there are countless moments for which he’s significantly less than proud of. murder being a number of them. he’s just had to do what he’s had to do.

but with you, being dealt a really bad hand, stuck on a pirate ship, condemned to a level that the pirates themselves don’t really come to, he feels real sadness, and real fear, and real protectiveness. he wants to help you. he’s not sure why, he’s never felt the need to help anyone. but seeing that desperation in your eyes, and the sheer willpower you’ve held onto for this long, he empathizes with you in ways he’s not even sure he fully understands.

niall trudges over to you, placing his satchel down on the crate next to you, opening it up to show you its contents. “sorry it’s nothing better. s’really all that survives the long trips.”

“don’t worry about it, please. it’s food,” you smile, reaching in and taking a handful of beans.

“i couldn’t find any water,” he sighs, “that one’s going to be a bit harder to come by. i’ll go lurking later tonight, when they’re all passed out,” he nods towards the upper deck, where the crew are currently working. “for now though, i hope ale’s okay ? at least it’ll fix the thirst for a bit, yeah ?” he hums hopefully.

your smile only grows wider, swallowing down a bite of the biscuit you had reached for, “niall, don’t make a fuss,” you murmur softly. “you’ve gotten me a meal, and you’ve been nothing but kind to me. i really appreciate all of it,” you hum, taking a sip and another bite, finding yourself hungrier than you thought. the slowly waning adrenaline causing your body to need a refuel.

“it’s no problem,” niall smiles, “really. just want you to stay safe, and to make it off this ship unharmed.”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks, your eyes trained down on the food he’s provided. you could not have a crush on a pirate. you. could. not. you had to get off this ship and never, ever, look back. fuck.

you take a deep breath, looking over at him, “you seem too nice to be a pirate.”

niall’s mouth quirks up in a smirky smile, breathy chuckle rumbling from his chest, he shakes his head, “there’s a lot of nice lads here. but pirate mentality tends to take over and the next thing you know, you’re doing something you’d never ever thought of doing.”

your eyes lock with his, reading him for a moment, a silent moment, as you both exchange a sad, knowing gaze, “would it have been different if you weren’t alone when you found me ?”

at that, niall sighs, shoulders deflating. he reaches up on his head, gripping his hat and taking it off, resting it on the crate, behind you. it’s the first time you see him without it, expecting to finally get a glace at his hair, you’re only slightly disappointed to see a tattered, muted green bandana wrapped around his head. although you do note peaks of brown tousles poking through behind his ears and by his neck. small hoops pierced through his lobes.

without his hat, more light hits his eyes, which you note are a deep blue. his skin was tanned, darkened from long days in the blistering sun. he’s gorgeous. you cannot. cannot. have a crush on a pirate.

“i’d like to believe that i would have stood up for you,” niall murmurs. “like to believe that when i saw that look in your eyes, i’d be getting them away from you. can’t even begin to imagine the alternative, to be honest, darling.”

you let the pet name slide, too caught up with the fact that he keeps saying he’d like to believe. it’s not quite as reassuring as you’d hoped. you aren’t completely sure how much you can trust him yet. after all, a bit of food is a nice peace offering, but he hasn’t proven himself just yet.

it’s a few hours after that, before you see niall again. he does need to spend some time, enough time, with the crew, working. he can’t let anyone notice that he’s gone too long. or at least, where he’s going. if any of the lads find out that he’s spending time down there, they’ll suspect something. he needs to do this very delicately. needs to be smart about this.

as he returns, he smiles wide at you, waving a pair of boots around. “smallest ones i could find, keep your feet dry.”

your eyebrows furrow squinting your eyes, the darkness of early evening settling, less and less daylight filtering through the small cracks in the wood.

“s’hard to see innit ?” niall hums, patting his pants, fingers finding some matches in one of the pockets, striking one against a crate to light it, the dim flame just enough to illuminate his face and the pair of boots he’s holding up.

“you got me some boots ?” you look up at him, a burst of warmth spreading through your chest, biting your lip softly as you reach for them, slipping them on. “these are perfect,” you hum, clicking your feet together.

niall searches the walls and ceiling, finding a small gas lamp, unhooking it from its perch, and lighting it. a small corner of space sees proper lighting for the first time in a long time. taking a look around, he thinks he prefers it when it’s dark.

but upon looking over at your feet, he sees you were exaggerating quite a bit. the boots were far from perfect, much too big on you. “you seem to be handling all of this really well for someone as prim and proper as you are.”

you laugh, a true laugh, your first one in god knows how long, shaking your head. “didn’t grow up like this,” you explain, hands waving up and down to display your expensive dress. “one of the richest men in town, for some reason, had his sights set on me.”

“make that sound like a bad thing,” niall hums, hoisting himself up on the crate across from you, setting his hat down again.

“i hate him,” you murmur vehemently. and again, you both lock eyes in a silent moment, the flame flickering a dim glow over both of your features, intensifying the connection.

niall snaps out of it first, “wanted to bring you the boots, and check in on ya. it’s gotten pretty dark out, the crew’ll be out cold in a bit. i’ll try to find you some water. i’ll be back. keep that light, makes it a little less glum.”

and again, he’s off, just as quickly as he came. you were forever grateful for the bits of company. and the little things he’d bring you every time he dropped on by. in the meantime though, you were lonely. tucked away in the depths of despair, longing and awaiting for your gorgeous pirate’s return.

christ, stop. you did not have a crush. you did not. however, you could admit to yourself that having a place of escape, in your mind that is, helped pass the time a little bit. a place where you and niall were on a grand adventure at sea, wind billowing in your hair, fresh salty air, nothing but beautiful sunsets on the horizon.

how you longed for a breath of fresh air. to feel the wind on your skin. it was getting increasingly hard to be held up like you were. you had no idea that rot and severe lack of sunlight could affect someone so quickly.

you were growing increasingly desperate. and thinking back, niall had mentioned countless times that the crew pass out cold at night. maybe you could sneak around too ? just enough to make it a bit higher up.

this was foolish, you kept telling yourself as you take slow steps towards the stairs, and yet, you couldn’t stop yourself. it’s like if your body could feel its impending death if it stayed put. your sheer will to have some clean air seemingly taking over the fear for a split moment.

you were two floors up before you started noticing signs of life. sticking to the empty staircase, peering over quietly to notice breathing lumps of men, tucked into hammocks slung around randomly.

continuing on your way, you stop a few steps from the very top, sitting on it, not risking being seen on the wide open deck. you breathe in deeply, crisp nighttime air filling your lungs. tilting your head back, eyes blinking up, you notice the vast array of stars. smiling to yourself, you enjoy a moment of calm.

that is, until you hear some sounds from below you. what seems to be a conversation. and by the rumbling, tumbling steps, and the slurring, cackling voices, you’d best believe they were drunk. with the sounds getting louder, they were heading up to the top deck.

panic rising in your chest, your eyes dart from side to side, figuring there was nowhere to go but up. you climb the rest of the stairs, finding the large expanse of the ship to be empty. rushing, you look around to find a hiding spot, just about to take your first step towards a barrel, when a bone chilling sentence hits your brain.

“well, well, well. look at what we have here.”

“hmm, pretty young lady. looks like we get to have some fun tonight.”

you whimper, frozen in fear, hearing the loud chuckle from behind you, “i get her first !” one of them shouts, surging forward and gripping your shoulder. he walks you forward towards the very barrel you were planning to dash for, just moments ago, pressing on your upper back, between your shoulder blades, bending you over.

you can feel him lean over you, pressed up against you, murmuring against your ear, “such a little treat aren’t you ?”

“what the-“ you hear from further behind you, the man no longer pressed against you, as he looks behind himself.

“fuck- what are you-“ just as you look behind yourself, curiously panicked, worried that you may have an even worse imminent future ahead.

instead you’re met with the sight of your attacker, pulled back into niall’s chest, held down by his mouth to muffle any sounds, watching niall glide a blade through your attacker’s throat.

you feel as if your heart was about to beat out of your throat, eyes bulging wide, trying to take in the scene in front of you. two men, in a heap on the floor, throats gushing blood. you were gasping for breath, slowly backing away, until your back hit the barrel.

“what in god’s name are you doing ?” niall snaps, looking around to make sure no one’s seen anything. “why would you do something so fucking stupid ?”

he was furious. and you could tell. instantly regretting your decision to try and reach some upper floors. “i-“ you sigh, looking down, unable to look him in the eye. you felt like a small child, being scolded. and truthfully, you deserved it. what you did was stupid. and if niall hadn’t found you right then and there, you’re not sure what would be happening right now.

your gaze tentatively flicks up towards his, shame plastered on your features, as you do something you never imagined doing. you lunge forward, wrapping your arms around niall, the force of it all making him take a few steps back.

he was shocked. he hadn’t been privy to a hug in over a decade. his eyes blink rapidly a few times, before slowly wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you to him, hearing a faint, “thank you for saving me,” puff out from your lips, warm breath hitting his neck.

niall’s eyes flutter closed, his head resting against yours, taking in a breath. the fresh cleanliness of the soap you used in your hair was still clinging on, under the scent of the sea, a welcomed change his nostrils revelled in.

he found himself relaxing into your arms, the protective anger he was feeling over you fading, murmuring, “please tell me what the fuck you were doing.”

you slowly pull away from the hug, sighing, “i was desperate for some fresh air. you kept talking about the crew passing out at night, figured it’d be my best shot,” you shrug.

“christ, darling, let me in on your plans next time yeah ? let me keep you safe. d’ya have any idea how bad that could have been if i wasn’t here ?” he shakes his head. “fuck, lets not think about that. need to take care of my mess. then m’gonna find you a change of clothes. can’t have ya sneaking around in that dress. s’too obvious.”

he turns around, hoisting the bodies one at a time, rolling them over the edge of the ship, to crash into the frigid waters below.

“niall, you-“ you take a deep breath, your shoulders slugging, “you killed two people. for me. i- fuck, i can’t believe i-“

“shh,” he hums, shaking his head, pressing his index finger against your lips when he notices you about to speak again. “don’t have ta say it. m’honestly so fucking glad i was here.”

your breath catches as his finger makes contact with your mouth, a tingle of warmth spreading through your entire body, leaving your fingers and toes slightly numb. for a moment you find yourself wanting nothing more than to kiss him. with the sweat on his brow and the dirt on his skin, and fuck even the blood on his hands, you were so attracted to him. you cannot have a crush on a bloody pirate.

he slowly pulls his finger away, eyes locked on yours, feeling the erratic beating in his chest, because my god, he’s never felt such soft lips. doesn’t remember wanting to kiss anyone so bad in so long. not that there’s been even remotely close to a kissing prospect. “c’mon, that’s gotta be enough fresh air for today. can’t risk it any longer. lets get you back down there, darling. i’ll go sleuthing for some clothes.”

“niall,” you rush out, gripping into his arm just as he was trying to walk away, “thank you. for everything.”

a small smile tugs at his lips, blush rising to his cheeks, turning away again and setting off with you, making sure the coast is clear every step of the way, until you’re back to the safety of the bottom deck.

it had been days since your little adventure to the outside. and as much as you were craving a trip back up, you were slightly petrified.

niall had brought you some clothes, and even though you could fairly blend in with the crew, you weren’t quite ready to test it for real.

in the meantime, niall’s been your source of friendship, coming to check on you regularly, whenever he could sneak away, bringing you food and drinks. he even tracked down some water for you a couple of times.

tonight, however, you couldn’t hold out anymore. so when niall comes by for his late evening visit, you hop down from the crate you’d made yourself comfortable on, bounding over to him, “can we go up tonight ?”

he looks over you, eyes wide, “you really want to try that again ?” he asks quietly, out of fear for you. fear of what could happen to you, to him for hiding you.

but with the large puppy eyes you were feeding him and the severe level of empathy he has for you, he ends up giving in pretty quickly, nodding his approval, “yeah, alright. suppose it’s something you need. please stay close. and do whatever i say.”

“yes sir,” you smirk, saluting him. as soon as your hand left your forehead, you felt like a complete fool. embarrassing yourself in front of the man whom you’ve grown more and more affection towards.

he giggles though, a real giggle, shaking his head at you, “m’a pirate, not in the fuckin navy, darling.”

you laugh along with him, ever grateful for him. you’re unsure of how you’ll ever be able to thank him for all that he’s done for you. including murder for fuck sake. you have to come up with something before leaving the ship.

you stay quiet, following him up the stairs, niall checking each floor as he goes, confirming that everyone is rightfully asleep. once he makes it to the top deck, he takes one look around, finding the entirety of the space, completely abandoned. niall’s hand reaches out for yours, helping you up the last few steps.

taking a deep breath, your eyes close momentarily, enjoying the feeling of whipping wind against your skin, tiny droplets of sea water spraying you from time to time. it was so refreshing, so incredibly needed after the time down below.

walking over to the edge, hands gripped into the side of the ship, looking at the vast expanse of pure, pitch, darkness. there was nothing but stars as far as the eye could see.

niall coming over to stand next to you, he hums softly, “what’s got you so focused ? s’nothing but black out there.”

“kinda nice innit ?” you ask quietly, “the stars, the open sea, how tiny we really are in the grand scheme of things.”

“you think that’s nice ?” he asks, slightly confused. “isn’t that a bit scary ? what’s the point of it all ? we wont really make a difference anyway.”

at that, you hum, your head resting against niall’s shoulder, his arm instinctively wrapping itself around your shoulders. you never thought you’d be over the moon to be cuddled up with a pirate, but he actually made you feel comfortable, safe, a feeling that was fairly foreign for you at this point. and you were revelling in it.

“you think you won’t make a difference ?” you ask softly, turning yourself a bit more into him, “you’ve already made a huge one,” you explain. “you’ve saved me. saved my life.”

“but-“ niall furrows his eyebrows, “that’s just how my mam raised me. to be kind. s’not really making a difference in the world.”

you shake your head, humming a protest, “one person can’t change the entire world, that would be a bit of a pompous thought,” you chuckle, adding quietly, “but you’ve made a difference in my world.”

niall feels his heart burst, prickling heat shooting from his chest throughout his entire body. he buries his face in your hair, pulling you closer to him, “think you’ve made an even bigger difference in mine.”

moments before he was about to turn your face towards his, he hears it, a deep chuckle coming from behind, “looks like nialler found a treasure. gonna share with your brothers ?”

he feels you go stiff as a board next to him, feels the moment the air leaves your body, feels the panic encompassing every fibre of your being. he looks down at you, trying to convey any form of safety in his gaze, mouthing to you, “run,” before pushing you off towards the stairs.

instantly, the other man is taking off after you, bounding down the stairs two at a time, niall quickly in toe.

you just make it back to your dark and dingy secluded hideout, when a large, rough hand presses you into one of the crates in front of you, making your forehead smack down hard on the wood.

you whimper, the man’s hands closing on your hips, squeezing roughly, painfully. and just like the last time, a moment later, he’s lifted off of you, niall’s blade slicing through his neck.

niall’s catching his breath, trying to calm his nerves, as he looks down at the scene, taking the moment in for the first time, because fuck, this is not good.

he looks up at you, noting the gash on your forehead, “christ, darling, you alright ?” he asks, fingertip darting out to gently touch the wound.

you flinch back, bottom lip trembling, as you feel yourself giving out, niall quick to catch you before you fall into the sludge water, leaning heavily on him, face tucked into his neck, “i can’t do this anymore,” you cry softly. “i can’t, i can’t. i need air, i need sun, fuck,” you tremble. “m’always so scared. i just can’t anymore niall.”

he holds you tightly, heart shattering for you. you hadn’t asked for this. you were a good person. you didn’t deserve any of this. mind reeling after the events of just moments ago, niall comes up with a plan, “we’re getting off this ship.”

“what ?” you ask exhaustedly, peering up at him, every ounce of your being, drained.

“you can’t stay here anymore. s’too dangerous. and you need air. we’ll take one of the lifeboats,” he explains, before nodding towards the body, “s’the first mate. someone’s going to notice he’s missing. and m’not about to lug him all the way up to throw him overboard, someone’ll see.”

“niall, i can’t make you do that,” you sigh. “can’t make you leave the safety of the ship for me.”

he cups your neck in his large hand, his thumb stroking your jaw, eyes peering into your own, conviction in his tone, “can’t go alone, darling. i told you i’d keep you safe. couldn’t live with myself if you were out there all alone. we’re leaving. tonight.”

Part 2

……

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