#i SWEAR TO GOD I WILL RESUME DRAWING OLD MEN AT SOME POINT

[moksutinn]

[tvitr]

uwu I don’t make the ruwules

(Okay fine, reasons/opinions below the cut but be warned! I won’t be holding back on game or book spoilers. Or rambling. This got longer than I anticipated lol)

BETTER IN THE BOOK

Eis “Fireman Sam” Glover: I don’t know what the game was trying to do with this one. I guess he gets overwhelmed by the fire and loses his composure or gets scared or... something?  Also why did he not bring a hose. Or a mask.  This is why so many reviewers thought Wonderworld was a metaphor for purgatory and all the inhabitants are dead I swear. Who cares, the book handled it a lot better. I wouldn’t say it’s perfect, but there’s definitely a good idea here with some interesting themes. The gist is that he feels ashamed following his captain’s orders to retreat during a serious blaze, which his colleagues disobeyed, and his colleagues are later hailed as heroes by the press.  Is Balan the Book trying to take on toxic masculinity...? How brave. Tl;dr, the book conveyed the story a Hell of lot better than the game. Honestly I’m surprised this is the only one.

BETTER IN THE GAME

Haoyu “Airplane Boi” Chang: So the book tried waaaay too hard to draw a parallel between Haoyu and Fiona (aka, Dolphin Girl) to the point that they both share a similar backstory, in that they had a hobby which led to a near-fatal accident and now they’re too traumatised to resume said hobby. And that’s not a bad thing per se but... “near fatal accident” was already Fiona’s backstory. We didn’t need a duplicate. And this is more personal preference, but I kinda liked Haoyu’s story in the game anyway. His failure at building a functioning aeroplane out of crap he found in his garage is endearingly funny in the game, and the resolution of him taking time out to sit down and study before building anything is a nice spin on the whole “if at first you don’t succeed” theme the chapter wanted. 

Sana “Bird Lady” Hudson: So the book decided they didn’t want to make Cal an angry sore loser so guess what? They made Sana an angry misanthrope. Wonderful. Okay maybe that’s harsh, but she definitely came off as very bitter and unsympathetic in the book. Like there’s a scene at the end where she harasses a firefighter and tries to steal a fire engine because they’re working on a building fire and not supervising her park. That’s not a character you wanna root for. That’s a Karen. The game had a better plot thread and resolution to her story rather than a boring cookie-cutter “humans vs. nature grrrr humans are so evil” story, like the game story here had a bit more depth to it and approached the topic more maturely than the book did. Which is ironic considering how hilariously edgy the book gets sometimes, but I guess throwing a few smashed eggs and frozen bird skeletons into your story doesn’t mean anything if you’re still going to paint such a black-and-white narrative.

Iben “Frozen Elsa” Bia: This story didn’t need dialogue. Like... we don’t need her to justify why she’s upset her parents are dead because we’d already assume that. They’re her parents! Of course we’d assume she’d be upset! They died! Simultaneously! That’s horrible! WE DON’T NEED HER TO EXPLAIN THIS! Also her dialogue in the book was... pretty terrible, not gonna lie. Like if you’re gonna insist on dialogue at least make it gOOD. I’m actually planning on just reviewing her book scene so I can fully articulate just how bad it is anyway, so stay tuned for that mess lol.

FINE IN BOTH

I mean there’s not really too much to say here but anyways:

Jose/”The Farmer” having a family in the book gives him a bit more depth, even if we never hear from them again after his backstory dump.

Fiona/”Dolphin Girl” almost drowns in a slightly different way, with a dolphin straight up pulling her mask off rather than knocking it out of her mouth, and the book also goes more into detail about her love for diving and dolphins. Also the book ships her and Haoyu like. So hard. Like they never shut up about how similar they are or what they other’s doing or if the other’s okay or not. By the end of it I was expecting them to just start making out in front of everyone, they’re that obsessed with each other. And it would be funny if they didn’t use this to wreck Haoyu’s backstory like I mentioned earlier.

Yuri/”Bug Kid”/”Is that a Pokémon reference?” is now being kinda bullied for liking bugs, which yeah gives her more depth and reason to be upset but I also kinda related to her just being that One Kid with interests that nobody else had. But it’s not as bad as some of the other changes, so I can let it slide.

Atillio/Clown and Bruce/Old Man are the same, nothing to say here.

Lucy/”The Artist” is a total drama queen but then again so are Art People so I can let it slide. I did like them changing her problem from “artist’s block” (seriously?) to her feeling too under pressure to create masterpieces, unless that’s what the game was aiming for? Oh who cares.

JUST A BIG MESS

Cass “Dead Cat Girl” Milligan: This is a weird one because the story is the same between the game and book (though the book mentions she witnessed a more severe car accident rather than a speeding car which she assumes kills the cat, and the cat isn’t even her cat, it’s a stray) but the story itself is... flawed. According to the book, they wanted to convey the idea that running away from the accident was irresponsible, and she just needed to look back and she’d see her cat is okay, but the game kind of makes it look more like Balan turned back time to save her cat, and the book mentions a serious car crash which I don’t think anyone would willingly return to. I feel there’s a better way to convey this idea of being responsible for your pets, like say her cat escapes from the house and gets lost, and her resolution is going out and properly looking for it. That’s a more effective (and natural) way to relay that message, especially as they weren’t going to commit to the idea of grieving a lost pet.

I’M CONFLICTED

Cal “Chess Daddy” Suresh: God this was a tough call. On one hand Cal’s game backstory is one of the ones most YouTube players single out as the weakest backstory in the game. He’s just “that guy who lost one game of chess”. Being right before Iben’s level certainly doesn’t help. I could honestly write a separate post about how bad the story placements are in this game but that’s too long for here.  On the other hand, I still... kinda like it? Like I like this idea of him being a sore loser with a bad temper who needs to learn some humility, sure it’s not as serious as “I almost drowned” or “my parents are dead” but one of the few good things about the game is that it balanced “serious” stories with “benign” ones, if that makes sense. HOWEVER His book scene is... probably one of the best written in the whole book. Which isn’t saying much, but it felt like it hit the intended degree of darkness that the rest of the book was trying to hit. One of my main issues with the book is how much it edged up everyone’s backstory, which doesn’t sound bad but when you have 12 characters with edgy backstories to sit through, it starts to feel like a 14 year old's first attempt at writing an angsty fanfiction very quickly. And yes, Cal’s story is dark and angsty but it felt like the perfect balance of dark and angsty. Or as perfect as the book can get. Like even Balan’s annoying rhyming dialogue sounded good for the tone of the scene. Man maybe I should just do a review of both his backstories in a bigger post.  Obviously I could be biased because I’m a sucker for chess aesthetics and dark skinned men with long permed hair so I’m just putting more thought into him but still.

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Desperate situations call for desperate measures. #Writer Wednesday 21/04/21

Pairing: Dave York x F!reader

Summary: You're desperate, with nothing to lose you accept helping one of your friends in what looks to be a very dubious job and the man in charge intimidates you and owns every single one of your thoughts since you met him

Warnings: I mean is Murder daddy Dave 🤷‍♀️. Blood, violence, guns, swearing, descriptions of anxiety and panic and sexual innuendo. Nothing too graphic but let me know if I should note anything else, thanks

A/N: I blame my national public TV channel for broadcasting The Equalizer 2 a few weeks ago, now I have THOTS and reading many amazing Fanfics on this site it's making it worse. Another Pedro's character I'm fascinated by (and would gladly be railed by). This is my second piece for #Writer Wednesday thank you for this again @autumnleaves1991-blog 🤗 I’m super excited to read what everybody has prepared for this week. No beta’d, sorry for any misspelling and terrible grammar.

Everything that could go wrong went wrong.

Suddenly you’re walking with a pair of stupid high heels in a cold muddy path, there’s nothing but a few street lamps but this white fog surrounds the night like a thick cape blocking their light so you can see nothing, even the moon is invisible and above you there’s an only a dark immensity without stars.

Fuck, fuck, fuck you repeat trembling, this stupid silky dress and the thin shawl you wear doesn’t protect you for this freezing night. Stupid fucking dress, stupid fucking heels you mutter, your teeth chatter and you try to focus on the road and finding anything that could get you out of here without getting yourself killed. Your shoes appear to have heard your complaints when they snap and break and you almost fall down.

“FUCK!” you scream this time and instantly regretting it, you don’t know who could be listening. Now you can walk faster but the probability to lose one or a few of your toes is getting higher every minute that you expend walking barefoot through this dreadful place.

As an apparition, a miracle, you see a dim white light at the end of the road. You run, you could even smile if your face muscles were not frozen. You feel your tears forming warm trickles on your cheeks when you arrive to the phone booth. You haven’t use one in years, even thought they were extinct but now it is as if you had found God.

You open your small red velvet purse, so pathetically small that your phone couldn’t fit in it so you gave it to Tom, and now what? It’s inside his pocket, probably soaked in his blood. Soaked in blood of your dead friend. You stupid friend that got you into this situation on the first place.

“Whatever happens, if everything goes to shit, call this number” he had told you giving you a white card, a number and a name on it: Dave.

Your hands shake so much that you almost drop the card, but you place it on the small tray full of vulgar vocabulary and very graphic drawings inside the booth. You thank karma or whatever it’s up there that all your cards got cancelled last month and recently you relay on cash. A few quarters and cents, a few bills that you had stolen on your way to the club where you were supposed to do the jobwere all you had on your name now. And the rest, what you had saved, your clothes and the few luxuries you own; a book, an old picture and a plant, are gone, forever, they’re at Tom’s house and you know now that he’s dead and has botched the job you could never return to his home if you want to keep being alive. You stretch your fingers and take a deep breath before dropping the coins and dialing the number.

Please pick up, please pick up

You see the counter on the small screen eating your coins away. And you don’t have anything else

Please, please

“York”

his voice is deep, a slight tone of annoyance in it, logically because you’re calling at 2 AM

“Dave?”

“Yes, who’s this?” you shudder hearing him, you convince yourself it’s because you’re cold but you know it’s not. You’re thinking of the man that owns this velvety voice: brown dark eyes piercing you as if you were made of paper and he could read every little corner and secret that you keep

“I’m Tom’s friend, he’s dead, and now I’m on the middle of nowhere and I need help, please” you plea, your last words sound more like a little girl whimpers

“I’m on my way” and he hangs up

You’re left there looking even more scared and confused. You recoil to the small protection of the booth waiting for that man. That man that lurks in your dreams, that scares you and intrigues you and that has occupied every thought since you met him.

A week ago

“So, explain to me again, what are we doing?”

“You need the money or not?” Tom stops and confronts you in the middle of the road

“I need it, of course, but I want to know what I’m getting myself into before ending up dead or in jail” you say not moving until he is a little clearer

“We’re meeting with one of my boss’ men and he will give us something to hand to someone else in a place and a time they had accorded. And that’s it. You and I get paid and everybody’s happy” he says with a desperate smile “C’mon” he approaches you and squeeze gently your arms, he even bends a little to meet your gaze “you know I have many friends and I have proposed this to you, only you, haven’t I? Cos I trust you” he adds

“Because I’m fucking broke, Tom. The rest of your friends wouldn’t be as desperate as me” You blurt

“Okay, let’s meet him and if it doesn’t convince you, I’ll do it alone. C’mon, let’s not be late, he would not like that”

You nod reluctantly. You hope this dude would pay for lunch, you’re starving, you had some instant noodles last night and today your breakfast was the crumbs of cereals that Tom had left because he was too lazy to throw away the box.

The restaurant is clearly not made for people like you and Tom, the employees look at you up and down but when they’re about to kick you out, a big man approaches them and he guides you to a part of the local that is quite with a warm and intimate light. There’re a few tables but they’re all empty, the last one is occupied by a well-dressed man that looks at the both of you intently.

Your first thought is that he doesn’t look as you had expected. You were sure that Tom was involved with drug dealers and whatever the job entitled was about drugs, weapons or both. He looks like a middle-age business man, or a public agent. He wears a tailored dark gray suit, an elegant wool coat and he’s clean shaven, elegant shoes, expensive, you think. God, make him be nice enough so he pays for lunch

When you face him, although you stay behind Tom, your theories about the man crumble. His eyes, those dark brown orbs, are fixed at Tom and his defined jaw clenches, in a second his eyes are on you and you can’t stand his gaze much longer.

“Hi, Dave, I didn’t know I would be seeing you, I thought I’d be meeting Resnik as usual” Tom voice is high and shaky, so it confirms your thoughts; the man is dangerous even if he doesn’t look like it

“This is important, and you came accompanied” he tilts his head to you

“I thought this was a job for two” Tom takes a sit in front of him and Dave leans on his seat stretching his shoulders, he’s broad, strong, how did you think this man was no threat at all?

“You thought” he smirks and you freeze on your feet, is it too late to run away? “And what’s your name?”

You tell him, your voice sounds pathetic, a little too squeaky. He smiles and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and suddenly every coherent thought that you could think is out of the window.

“Please take a sit” Dave appears to be a little bit more relax now, he crosses his hands over the table and smiles to the two of you “So why do you think you could be of service?”

“Well, it’s a club, a guy alone is usually a creep but if we go together we’re a couple, and they wouldn’t look at me if I’m with her” he chuckles and points at you

You open your mouth about to insult Tom and seeing that his intentions could be way more different that you thought. You’re not doing that kind of job

“Yeah” Dave agrees and looks at you up and down, he doesn’t avert his eyes when you look at him with you eyebrow raised. He’s not ashamed, he’s checking you out and he wants you to know it “It’s actually not a bad plan”

“I’m sorry, but whatis the plan?” you interrupt

“It’s simple, you and your boyfriend...”

“He’s not my boyfriend” you clarify

“Right” he seems to think about that for a few seconds, before he resumes the conversation “You two go to this club, there, you’ll meet the contact and you’ll give them this” he raises his hand and the big man that had previously taken you to the table gives him a black briefcase “There’re two things that are extremely important” He pushes the case towards you “one, you cannot open it and see what’s inside, I’ll know if you do. Two, whatever happens you must acquire the envelope that the contact would give to you in exchange for this”

“Consider it done, Dave” Tom reaches for the man and gently taps on his arm. You watches as the man tenses when he’s touched and if looks could kill...Tom would be dead on the ground in this very second

“I’m sorry, can I ask you a question?” you raise your hand and the tense moment passes when Dave looks at you and he’s smiling, actually a very warm smile

“Of course”

“You said whatever happens, what could happen? Who are we meeting?” you ask, Tom opens widely his eyes and kicks you under the table

“Don’t worry Tom, they are actually pretty good questions” when he switches his eyes to Tom, he’s back to that opaque stare that makes you tremble “I’m not going to lie to you, sweetheart” he sighs, the endearing term has made your belly turn and it’s not hunger, at least not the food type “this people are dangerous, and they could try to trick you into changing the terms of the agreement, or ask questions about me or any other thing, and you must stay put and seal the deal fast and easy. Don’t do anything stupid”

“Right... what’s inside the case?” you ask again, you try really hard not to avert your eyes, he has his eyes fixed on you, his gaze goes from your eyes to your lips and you squirm on your seat.

“I cannot tell you that” he shakes his head “but it’s something valuable, you have to be very careful with it”

“If we are caught by the police with that” you point to the briefcase “are we gonna be in trouble?”

He smirks and crosses his arms over his chest; you cannot prevent your eyes from admiring how the fabric of his clothes tenses around his muscles.

“You don’t have to worry about the police” he assures

“I feel you’re telling us not to worry about many things and I think it’s on the contrary we have too many things to worry about...with all due respect” you add, Tom kicks you harder this time and giggles nervously

“It’s your first time, it’s natural! I’ve done a few times, you don’t have to worry, you’ll be with me! right, Dave?” Tom slaps him on his shoulder again playfully and the man flinches and has a menacing look if you do it one more time, asshole, we’re going to die right here right now you think

“Right” he answers “Tom, why don’t you go with Kovac to the car you’ll use for the job, there you’ll have the phones and everything you’ll need to complete the mission” he says eventually. The big man, Kovac, approaches the table and stands besides Tom until he gets up to follow him.

You stand up too, thinking that the lunch is over.

“Stay, please” Dave grabs your wrist softly and you gasp when you feel his warm touch

“I-I” you stutter

“Don’t you want to eat anything? I sense you have more questions” he doesn’t let go of your hand, he brushes his fingers softly where you skin is thinner and you feel your pulse rushing, surely he does too

“Yes...I mean I could eat something” you sit, the rumbling on your belly confirms your hunger

“Order anything you want” he stands up and raises a hand towards a waitress. She rushes to the table with the menus while Dave takes off his coat and jacket, he raises his sleeves carefully and you are not aware that you’ve been staring at him the whole time with eyes wide open and lips partially parted, you’re completely dumb by his presence. He’s tall, strong and broad and you can’t smell his cologne and his aftershave from there and all you can think is coming closer to him and tasting his neck.

You look down the menu suddenly when you find that Dave has caught you admiring him and is smiling slyly at you.

“Anything you like?” he asks

“Yeah...I’d like...” you read as fast as you can trying to find something, the prices are ridiculous “the salad” you answer

“You can order anything, sweetheart” the term makes you skin tingle again, he’s voice is actually sweet and his smile docile this time when he sits again facing you

The waitress comes back and asks for your order but it’s smiling widely to Dave.

“So what you would like to order, sir?”

“We’re both getting the prime steak” he answers and you blush, of course you’d like to eat that but it’s so freaking expensive you didn’t even think about that

“Fries or roasted vegetables?” she taps on the screen

“Both” yes, you cheer inside your head, you’re going to eat properly for the first time in months

You actually don’t care about the job or Dave or anything when the plate arrives, and certainly you have forgotten about your friend, it’s been long enough but the scent of the meat makes your mouth water. You have forgotten your manners too; you attack the steak as if you were a caveman. The pleasure of the first bite makes you moan and wiggle or your seat.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Dave comments and you’re suddenly aware of where you are and with whom, he has an amused look

“Thank you” you say with your mouth full

“It’s nothing”

“I looked that hungry, huh? that’s why you ordered this?”

“Yes, you seemed to need a bit of protein. Protein makes you brain function properly and I need you sharp and quick if you’re going to work for me” he says picking from his plate

“You think I will work for you, I mean for longer than just this one job?” you scoff, you’re desperate, but you want to keep on the good track, find a proper job, a small apartment and stay out of trouble

“You don’t want to? I think you need the job” he licks his lips and you are again looking longer than you should

“Yes, but I need a proper job, a salary each month a conventional one. No offence”

“None taken. So you’re not like your friend”

“No, I guess I’m not. I’m just in a rough patch. Desperate situations calls for desperate measures” You shrug

“Hmm” he hums “I’m glad I can help you out of it then” he adds

“Yes, thank you. Though I’m still thinking that it could get me more trouble than I already have” you counter

“No if you’re smart and I think you’re a pretty smart girl”

“You’ve just met me”

“I’m good at reading people, part of the job” he shrugs

“So I’m a hungry desperate smart girl. Seems accurate”

“Pretty” he completes

“What?” you ask thinking you had heard him wrong

“I said you’re a hungry―I hope not anymore― desperate, pretty comma smart girl. Pretty as an adjective” he clarifies

You blush and look at him opening and closing your mouth searching for words

In that moment, Kovac and Tom arrive. The large man nods to Dave, and Tom looks at you and your half empty plate with a confused look.

“I have to go, but please, sit and finish your dish, you can order whatever you want too, Tom. Everything is on me. You don’t have to worry” Dave stands up and puts his jacket and coat back. You think you see a little bit of disappointment on his face. He reaches his hand to you, you drop the fork thinking that he wants to shake your hand but he brushes his thumb over your lower lip where a drop of the meat’s blood and sauce stains your chin.

“It’s been a pleasure” he says and then licks his thumb. He goes before you can answer and Tom is talking to you but you don’t listen.

All you could think was him, repeating that moment again and again in your mind.

“Are you listening?”

“Huh?”

“I told you about the car they gave us. It’s pretty cool”

You smile and focus on your plate, the juicy meat is delicious but all that passes through your brain is his lips. You bite and moan loudly.

Two hours before the phone booth call

The club is actually a house, a clandestine local in a remote place full of people playing poker and other types of game betting more money than you’ve ever seen. You and Tom arrive there holding hands, his left hand holding the briefcase. Tom had bought you your outfit, high heels that you don’t know how to walk with, a very revealing dress and the idiot forgot you hadn’t a proper coat to wear with this and here you are in the middle of winter with a shawl. Luckily the place is warm enough and you just suffered during the time you run to the entry from the parking.

The establishment smells like alcohol and cigars, its red velvet walls reminds you of the interior of a coffin and that image makes you shiver. You try not to look at anybody and focus on following Tom to the black armored door at the back. When you arrive he knocks twice before a small slot opens and a man asks for a password.

“Just like spy movies, huh?” Tom smiles and you would laugh but you’re terrified. Once that door closes behind you, there’s no way out

A large man dressed in black escort you through a red lighted aisle towards another armored door. This time he’s the one knocking twice, the slots opens and when a pair of eyes look through it you hear the locks being unlocked before they open it.

There’re ten people inside, chatting over a black table with some glasses on it. The conversation stops when you enter. Without a sign some of them are escorted out and only three men stay.

“Sit please, your girl can serve herself a drink” one man says, sitting at the center of the table. He’s dressed also in black, he’s blond hair sleek and shiny with hair gel “I guess you have something for me”

“Yes” Tom approaches the table and places the briefcase at the center. You do as you’ve been told and approach the bar full of different drinks. You’re too nervous to drink but you grab one of the empty glasses and pour some liquor in it. Your back is pressed against the sticky wood and you try to act casual.

The second man on the left takes it and opens it and shows it to the two other. There’s only one light in the room above the table and from here you can’t see much but it’s clear that the briefcase is full of money.

“Excellent. Did you know how much there is inside it?” the blond man ask Tom

“No” Tom seems relaxed, his arm leans on his chair and has his legs crossed

“There’s half a million here” he answers

“Wow!” Tom laughs

“For such a tiny thing” the man grabs something from his pocket and places a small white envelope on the table “Do you know what this is?”

“No”

And we don’t want to know you answer in your head Gosh Tom, let’s go

“Just an address. Somebody really valuable for your boss, look how much he’s paying. This poor fellow” he taps over the envelope “it’s nobody to me, that’s why I’m willing to trade this simple information knowing it will get him killed, but I have another deal for you, one that I’m really interested in”

Say no, no, we have to go now you clear your throat to get his attention but Tom ignores you

“You just have to let us track you to the place where you’ll meet your boss. And you can take the case back with you and I promise one similar to this one will find you once we kill your boss” he offers. Tom bites the inside of his cheek and hums

“Just track me?”

No, no, no you scream inside. You place the glass on the bar loudly but Tom is fixed with hungry eyes on the case.

“Let us install a simple tracking device to your car. And take this” he pushes the open briefcase “it’s yours”

Tom smiles and grabs it “Thank you”

“My colleague will accompany you to your car” the blonde man smiles back and the other man that reminded silent during the meeting gets up to follow Tom back to the car.

You walk to the table before they leave.

“I’m sorry, but he’ll need the envelope for the meeting. He cannot present himself empty handed, he will be dead before you could find his boss and they will make sure it’s the right one” you say shyly

“You’re a smart girl” the blond says “Here you are” he tends the paper and you force a smile.

You rush towards Tom and grab his hand. The man follows you a few meters away in silence. So you grab Tom by the waist and faking a smile whispers to his ear “What the fuck are you doing? Dave is going to kill us. You betrayed him”

“It’s a million dollars and they can take care of Dave for all I know he can die, he was paying a misery and I’m the one getting my ass in danger, don’t I?” he says back

“It’s better than being dead. And he’s going to kill us both and I did nothing, you betrayed me too”

“Calm down! I’m going to give you a part of this. Isn’t this what you wanted?” He has to raise his voice over the music once you arrive to public part of the club

“I didn’t want to die, I just want money to start again, not being involved in killing people and shit” you accused back

“Yeah right and it has nothing to do with you making eyes to Dave during lunch. Gosh, you’re pathetic. Shut up, take the money, and we will see each other never again” he pushes you from him clearly not caring to keep the being a couple front anymore.

When you arrive to the parking, Tom leaves the briefcase on the back seat. You stand a few meters away not knowing what to do. Tom is the only way out from here but you don’t want to participate in his treason.

“Open the driver’s door” the man says standing behind Tom

“Right away, brother”

Everything happens in an instant. You hear the gasp, the air leaving Tom’s body and his corpse hitting the ground more than the shot. Once the man raises the gun to you, you’re already running away.

You hear the bullets breaking the air and you run faster, tears running from your eyes but your bite your lips to prevent you from crying out loud knowing that he can hear you. Once your chest hurts and burns you stop, hidden in the tall grass you listen intently trying to know if he’s following you. And you wait. And you wait more.

You crouch down and you suddenly remember that you’re holding so hard to your purse and the little piece of paper that your hand hurts. You hold the envelope to your heart and sit on the cold mud because your legs cannot hold you any longer.

Present. Phone Booth

You think about the trip from town to this place and try to calculate how long it would take Dave to arrive. And it’s long and probably you’ll be dead before he comes even close. The men from the club must be looking for you. You’re a loose end, you know their faces and their place, everything. And you know Dave too. Shit.What are you going to tell him? Yes, Tom betrayed you but I didn’t. I actually didn’t want to do it, but did I prevent it? I couldn’t but what would he think? You’re a loose end for him too.

You know he runs shady business. And for all he knows you wanted to take the money as well and just was quicker on your feet so you ran away. He doesn’t know you; he knew Tom and he betrayed him. How could he trust you?

You need something, something to make him think you are true, that you didn’t betray him. And though you felt something in your little lunch together, he could just be playing with you or interested in a carnal way. God knows you had had very inappropriate thoughts about him too, but that doesn’t make you any less of a traitor. Pretty he said, pretty enough to be kept alive even though he doesn’t know if he can trust you? You don’t think so.

Whatever happens you must acquire the envelope he had said. So you open it. There’s a simple address on it:

8518 Rayburn Rd, Bethesda, MD 20817

So you expend the rest of the time repeating again and again. Until the pair of lights of the car appear through the fog. You hope it’s Dave and not the men from the club If it’s so I’ve expended my last moments alive memorizing a stupid address. Great.

The black car drives slowly until it’s a few meters away. You grab the paper and make a ball out of it and swallow it fast chewing hard. It’s horrible, raspy and muddy, but you know that throwing it wouldn’t do it as well as tear it apart. The paper needs to disappear; you must be indispensable to him.

You actually cry in relief when Dave calls your name and you run towards the lights. You actually don’t think your action but when you see his shape you run faster and hug him tightly. He’s warm and smells delicious as you noticed at the restaurant. He tenses at first but then he holds you back, gently patting your head and hushing you with calming noises.

“You’re alright, you’re safe now” you know it’s not actually true but in that second you enjoy it “Get in the car, you’re freezing” he caresses your arms up and down trying to warm you

When you get in the car, you feel as you have step inside the gates of heaven. It’s warm and cozy, the leather is the softest thing you have ever felt and everything smells like Dave. He gets in the driver’s seat and grabs something from the back: his wool coat and throws it over you and tucks you in it. He stays in silence for a few minutes and you feel yourself doze off when he speaks in a soft and low tone.

“So what happened?” he sighs and leans on his seat turning to you

“Tom was a fucking idiot” you spat and he grins “They offered him the money inside the briefcase for your location and promised him more money” you speak the truth, you know there’s no point in lying to him “He accepted and well, I didn’t know what to say, I tried to change his mind but it was too late”

“What happened to the envelope?” he asks

“I took it”

“Can you give it to me?” he reaches a hand and you see he’s wearing leather gloves, actually he’s completely dressed in black

“No” you say and you bite your lip

“You lost it?” he asks and you cannot read what’s going through his mind but his eyes are fixed on you, darker than you remembered

“No” you say

“You have to give it to me” he says and his voice gets lower, it should be menacing, it is, but you feel your lower belly twist

“I ate it” you answer

“You did what?” he looks surprise but you cannot tell if he’s mad or amused

“I remember the address” you take out one single finger from under the coat and point to your temple “I memorized it and ate it so you wouldn’t kill me”

Dave stays there in silence for a few minutes, and then smirks and chuckles

“Very good” he praises “You did very good” he reaches for you cheek and brushes his leather gloved hands tenderly “Good girl” his voice is low and deep and it makes you squirm under your cover, his coat, that smells just like him.

“You’re not going to kill me?” you murmur

“No, I cannot do it now, don’t I?” he smiles at you

“But what about when I tell you the address and you kill whoever lives there, what then?” you say, now that you’re warm enough you are aware of the mess you made of his car, mud stains everywhere, his coat is ruined “I’m a witness and now I know you’re about to kill somebody” you add

“You remember what I told you at the restaurant?” he asks and starts the car finally moving from this dreadful place

Yes, you called me sweetheart a couple of times and then called me pretty you want to answer

“I told you about working for me” he reminds you

“You want me to work for you?”

“Yes. I want it since I first met you, sweetheart” you actually surprise yourself once you feel that you’re smiling when he calls you that again

“You trust me? But Tom...”

“Tom was Tom, you are you. And I trust you to be smarter than he was. You have proved it to me, he failed the test he had to pass” you admire his strong big hands on the wheel and his straight posture that allows you to marvel at his features and his long neck

“What test?” you say after scolding yourself for looking at him like an idiot

“This test”

“This was a test? What?” you cry

“Not in the sense that it was prepared, of course. Those men were very much interested in me and my team, and I knew they were trying to get some of my men to turn. I have to test Tom before he entered the team for more complicated tasks, I had to know if he was ready, and he wasn’t”

“And why did you let me get in this?”

“That was his first mistake. Never ever” he points with his finger “tell another person about the job or try to get somebody on it without me asking first. I allowed it because I saw something in you. A hunger”

“Is that a joke?” you ask

“I guess” he smirks “but also true, you said it yourself ‘desperate situations call for desperate measures’ That was what got me on this kind of job on the first place. I liked you, I’d just hoped you were as smart as you looked and got out there alive. And you did”

“What if I don’t want it?” you mutter

“Hmm” he evaluates for a moment “Again, I hope you’re smarter than that and refuse the only chance you have. I mean, you have been evicted, all your accounts cancelled, you don’t have a family and the relatives that you still have you wouldn’t contact them even if you were dying, so, I’m the only thing you got, sweetheart”

“Did you investigate me?” you ask after a few quite minutes. He’s right, you know that

“Yes, I have to know everything if you’re going to be part of the team” he admits with a shrug

“I know nothing about you, or your team, how am I going to trust you?” you demur

“You will learn to trust me and the team once you’re trained” he explains

“Train? Who’s going to train me? and for what?”

“I’m going to train you. I’m going to train you until you’re what I want and what I need and in time; I think it will be a satisfying ending for both of us and this situation”

“What kind of job would I do?”

“Kill” he says simple and straightforward

You shiver at his words and hold tight to his coat. Do you really want to be an assassin? Do you have a choice?

He stops the car. You don’t have a house, you have nothing, only this, a dirty dress and a borrowed coat and the help of a man you’re sure could and would kill you without hesitation. And though, you have no choice there’s a side of you that’s dying to surrender to him, to let him make you what he wants. You desire to be his, you want to be what he wants, what he needs but not as his associate, not exactly like that.

“So what do you say? Do you want to be mine?” you squirm on your seat.

“Yes”

[drunkdaisychains]

Sneak Thief

Summery: Nox Donnahue is a young imperial woman who spends her time enjoying larceny and romance with dangerous men instead of becoming an imperial soldier like her brother. After a difficult conversation with her lover and the man who saved her life, Thyrnn, she decides she needs time to herself. Let’s see what Whiterun has to offer.

Warnings: swearing, smut, violence, trauma

parings: Thrynn/oc, Farkas/oc, 

A/N: I’m trying out this new story but the plot isn’t concrete and basically is just a way to maladaptive daydream so i can avoid my real life. I’ve always seen Thrynn mentioned and characterized as a bit of a dick so I wanted to see where the old “Is a dick to everyone else but me” trope brought me.let me know what you think. Also I’m almost done Aera the Fair and her story has 8 published chapters now. probably only 3 more until the story is done

Chapter 1: No Interuptions

“Stop thief!” The estate owner yelled after the leather clad imperial woman as she raced from the cellar doors she just emerged from clutching a rather valuable jewelled necklace. The wisps of dark hair that couldn’t be contained in her long braid weren’t being blown from her eyes due to her leather hood that shadowed her face and she cursed under her breath as they tickled her forehead and threatened to invade her sight. Her legs burned as she pushed them to carry her farther and faster than she had run in a while. She rounded a rock formation and almost smacked into the solid man who stood there. She could hear the rumble of a chuckle come from his chest as she pulled him down into a crouch in case that owner was still hot on her tail. 

  “Delvin is right, we are cursed!” She panted. 

  “Get back here!” The owner yelled in the distance.

  “Come on,” His familiar voice was raspy as usual with a slight accent she couldn’t place on the nord. He pulled her up by her arm and the two sprinted deeper into the foliage until they found his horse. He swung on and held a hand out for her to climb on just behind his saddle. “Hold on,” he ordered and she snaked her arms around his waist. The horse kicked up into a gallop as they raced towards Shor’s Stone. She thanked the gods that he had finished up his job in time to pick her up. She could have been cut to ribbons by now if he hadn’t shown. 

He finally slowed his horse down to a walk after he was sure they were far enough. She rested her forehead on his bare bicep and breathed a sigh of relief.

   “What happened back there, Nox?” he asked. 

   “We do this for the rush right?” she breathed out her cynical joke. 

   “Nothing beats how you can keep that rush going,” he chuckled and placed a hand on hers. She knew he wanted to move it lower and with the adrenaline still pumping through her veins she reached up and kissed his neck. That’s all he needed, they had just come to a small clearing in the trees. He swung his leg over the horse’s neck and slid off the saddle after stopping the horse. He reached up and wrapped his hands around her waist as she was about to slide off and helped her down. Instead of letting go when she was safe on the ground he pulled her in close catching her full lips in a hungry kiss. This wasn’t unusual for them, there had been a few times when one of them would rush into the secret entrance running from a job as the other was about to leave, they would indulge in the thrill from it. She had a weakness for the nord’s large arms and his fearless attitude. 

   “Thrynn,” She moaned as his lips trailed down her neck, sending chills up her spine. Her fingers found the waist hem of his pants and his hands cupped her bum. Just as they were getting heated, a howl echoed through the trees. 

   “Wolves,” She whispered and he cursed through his teeth, clearly frustrated at the interruption. 

   “Keeps the rush going,” she reminded him as she backed out of his arms and readied her bow with an arrow and aimed it at one of the advancing wolves behind him. She let it fly and it pierced between the eyes killing the wolf instantly. Thrynn turned unsheathing his sword as the second wolf emerged from the bushes. He skillfully swung at the beast and she let another arrow soar into the ribcage. Finally with a powerful swing his sword sunk deep into the wolf’s neck causing it to go limp and fall off his blade. His chest heaved as he caught his breath and met her eyes. She pulled off her quiver and tossed it to the ground by the wolf. He dropped his sword and with two long strides he was pulling her face to his to resume what they had started with a bit more thrill than before. 

   He backed her up to a tree, pinning her against it with his body weight. They wasted no time with undressing this time lest they be interrupted again instead opting for exposing the necessities. They were far from any civilization or roads, still a ways away from Shor’s Stone. 

   His fingers were skilled as they tugged at her armour and then her under clothes. His fingers were calloused and rough from all his time training and fighting, but the way he used them were gentle and with care. He knew exactly how to make her come undone and be completely his. She pulled away from his lips as his fingers slipped into her, causing a gasp to escape her rosy lips. He stared down at her with a mischievous look, in moments she was trembling in his arms whimpering. Her head spun with pleasure and before she could get her bearings, he spun her around and used his foot to spread her legs apart. She cried out as he slid in to her causing him to place a hand over her mouth. 

   “Quiet darlin’, we don’t need your howl’s attracting more wolves,” he quipped and slammed into her again with a grunt. Her palms burned against the bark of the tree as she arched her back and pressed against his thrusts. He pulled her hood down to expose her long chocolate hair, taking her braid in his fist adding more pain to her pleasure. She moaned into his hand as the pleasure built in her about to make her body spasm again. In moments he pulled out just in time not to fill her and make her journey back uncomfortable. He braced himself against the tree trunk as he caught his breath and she fixed her armour.  When she turned to face him, he pulled her into a sweaty but satisfied kiss. He too fixed himself up as it was her turn to lean against the tree, she examined her torn up hands. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist. 

   “We can wrap up your hands,” he said, examining the blood beading on them. “Come on,” he guided her to the saddlebags on the horse. She studied him as he rummaged for some clean dressings and readied his bladder of water that hung around the horn. She held her hands out as he carefully cleaned and bandaged her hands. 

His war paint was two horizontal lines below each eye, his profile was chiseled, and his mousy brown hair was always pushed back and out of his face despite being long. Nords always preferred their hair long over the short styles other races donned. She had seen this man ruthlessly kill, viciously fight, and spit obscene insults. He was far from a hero which made sense as he was an ex- Bandit turned thief. He was regarded as the enforcer of the guild and trained himself as such, intimidating targets as he looted on jobs rather than sneaking. Both techniques prevented guards from being called and made the guild earn a tough reputation. But she couldn’t help but study him with a soft look she reserved for the tender moments they had together. He could be as vicious as a hungry wolf to anyone else but softened to the likes of a guard dog around her. She felt safe around him and felt they shared something more than just close friends or helping warm each other's beds. 

      “Thanks,” She gave a small smile.

      “For your hands or the sex?” 

      “Clearly I’m talking about the sex,” she giggled. 

      “Well that was my pleasure,” he kissed her again and put the remainder of the wrappings back once they were secure around her hands. “Come on, still a bit before we get to the inn,” he walked over to the wolf to retrieve his sword as she followed suit. 

      Soon they were back on the road and feeling their energy drop from all the excitement they just had. She had slumped against his back fighting to keep her eyes open when she felt him shift in his seat.

   “Don’t fall asleep. I’ll already have to answer for bringing you back at all let alone injured already,” 

   “It’s not a job done right until you draw blood,” she murmured into his shoulder. 

   “I’ve already scraped you off the road once I don’t want to do it again,” he warned and she sat up a bit to please him. There was seriousness in his tone when he gave that warning that made her feel a bit guilty. She obviously hadn’t meant to get so injured on one of her first jobs, it was that damn curse! It was a couple of years ago, Nox Donnahue had already done a handful of jobs with the guild successfully, and surprisingly hadn’t met Thrynn at this point. She had just cleared out a wealthy home in Markarth and had made her escape just past Rorikstead on her horse when she was attacked by forsworn. They killed her horse, looted everything including her guild armour and beat her until they thought she was dead. She couldn’t be sure that was all they did as her clothes were so torn, they were nothing but rags. If Thrynn and Vex hadn’t been on their way back from doing business in Solitude, she surely would have died. 

    Vex had told her how Thrynn was the one who spotted her and stopped to check her breathing. Vex didn’t recognize her with how badly her face was swollen, and without her armour they didn’t even know she was a fellow thief. Bodies left from forsworn attacks were nothing new, merchants avoided those trips if they could because of them. Thrynn had carried her back to Rorikstead while Vex guided his horse, insisting she was still alive despite her breaths being so shallow it was hard to tell. They left her in the care of the healer and finished their trip back to the guild. Brynjolf had mentioned he was surprised they didn’t cross paths with her and all ride back together. That’s when Thrynn had suspected what happened. He asked for another job that would require a trip through Rorikstead as he wanted to check on her, make sure she wasn’t a member left stranded. 

     She had been up for just over a day when he returned, her face had shrunk two sizes and the bruises had mostly faded thanks to the potions and spells. She was still weak and in pain although Rorikstead seemed welcoming enough to house her until she was better. She thanked Stendarr for the mercy she was shown in that town. One of the women had given her fresh clothes and She was given a bed in the inn although she wasn’t sure how she would pay them. Thrynn sat with her, asking questions getting to know her when she asked how he knew she was in the guild. He was taken aback before she explained who she was and how she had ended up there although her memory got fuzzy after leaving Markarth. Knowing who she was, he felt he needed to protect her and make sure she made it back in one piece so he finished his job and picked her up on his way back when she was well enough to travel again. He had taken care of her expenses and for the next few months following, he shadowed her on her jobs, would line up jobs on the same travel path together or simply check up on her if he got the chance like he had during this Rift job. Although they flirted a lot and he made her feel safe, they didn’t become involved until recently. She figured they were seeing each other for about four months now but neither of them dared to bring up advancing into any relationship.

  She hadn’t noticed they had arrived until the horse stopped and he moved to dismount. 

  “I’ll stable your horse while you get us a room?” she suggested. 

  “What do you want for food and drink?” he asked double checking his saddlebag. 

  “I’m only hungry for sleep,” She yawned as he walked towards the inn’s door. She stayed petting the horse and ensured he would be safe for the night with food and water before entering the inn herself. The sun had already set when she was met by the warm fire in the main hall. She scanned the room for Thrynn when she spotted him sitting on a chair by the bar. A woman she had never seen before was in a green tavern dress with her chest exposed, sitting on the arm of Thrynn’s seat giggling. The woman was a tall, beautiful Nord with blond hair and a charming smile. 

  Nox felt a pit of jealousy bubble in her as she pushed it away, she walked up to the couple feigning a bored expression. Standing to her full 5’6” height, she still figured the nord towered over her. Nox had an athletic build, she had full lips, a small nose, and large hazel eyes that stood out against her olive skin. She noticed a fleck of something on the woman’s bottom lip but it was only after a second she realized the woman had kissed off some of Thrynn’s warpaint. 

   “Did you get those rooms?” She asked blandly. 

   “The one behind me,” he said and she pushed passed him into the room. She was still raw from their session only about an hour ago and he already had a new woman in his arms. She reminded herself they had never declared themselves a couple but she was still hurt. She took one of the books from the shelf in the room and sat at the small table in the room. She began flipping through pages trying to focus for a while when Thrynn walked in and closed the door behind him. He had a plate stacked with food and a tankard of what she assumed to be ale.

   “I figured you could pick off my plate if you aren’t going to get something of your own,” he said, placing it down on the table between them and sitting in the seat to her right. “Are you alright?”   “Yes.” She didn’t take her eyes off the words she wasn’t reading. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his broad chest. 

   “You’re jealous,” He observed. 

   “I quite enjoy feeling like I’m used,” She said dryly.

   “She came over to me,” he began.

   “She has your war paint on her lips,” 

   “I’m in here with you,”

   “You don’t want to be,”

   “Hey! I’m in this town for you. I could be back in the cistern right now,” he reminded her and she sighed knowing he was right. “So she kissed my cheek and gave me attention?”

    “It… hurt,” She mumbled, finally pushing the book away from her. She studied the bandages on her hands. He let out a heavy breath and pulled her chair closer to him so she was facing him with wide eyes. He noticed she had undone her braid that his fingers must have ruined. 

    “Give me a kiss,” his voice was softer. She hesitated before leaning in to meet his lips. When they parted she snaked a hand to his plate and took a piece of cheese to nibble on. He had a satisfied smirk knowing he was smart to have brought extra food in. When they finished eating they retired to bed so they could get an early start in the morning. She couldn’t help but still feel hurt despite being wrapped in his arms all night. 

   Her body was numb from the weight of his arm across her middle when she woke up. Knowing she couldn’t fall back asleep she decided to get breakfast in the same style Thrynn had the night before, piling it all onto one plate and sitting at the table to enjoy some fruit. She gazed over at him with his arm draped over his eyes as she popped a snowberry in her mouth. She took another and aimed the pea sized barry at the snoring nord. As she let it fly from her fingers she hit her desired target watching the berry arch into his mouth, making him cough and sputter. The berry pulled him from sleep abruptly as he sat up and spit it out.

   “Are you trying to kill me?” he exclaimed as she giggled. 

   “A single snowberry can't kill the almighty Thrynn. I got us breakfast come eat,” she had the berries and a sweet roll for herself but got him a roasted pheasant breast and some venison stew. She longed for the fruit her parents used to have shipped up from Cryodil. The strawberries and oranges, all the delicate fruits that wouldn't grow in hearty Skyrim. 

   Thrynn rubbed his eyes before he made his way to the table and took the remaining seat. He blinked a bit and rested his forearm on his knee as he continued to fight against sleep in his eyes by pinching the bridge of his nose. She pushed the cup of water to him, urging him to rehydrate after yesterday. 

    “I figure after breakfast we can leave for Riften. It’s dawn in half an hour,” that fact made him groan a bit. She always woke before him but it was rare she wouldn’t let him sleep in or wake him up so unpleasantly although they only shared beds outside of the guild. “There’s plenty of abandoned carts along the road we can haul you back in if you prefer,” she giggled into the cup she was about to sip from. He barely looked up, just tipped the bottom of her cup so it would splash down her face and in her nose making her gasp and sputter much like how she woke him up. “I deserved that…” She admitted once she caught her breath enough to speak. He just chuckled and moved his focus to the plate.

cont: https://www.wattpad.com/1055007722-sneak-thief-chapter-2-welcome-to-whiterun

[scarlettswxtch]

Darkest Side of Me | 2

Characters: Bucky x Reader / Steve x Reader

Summary: You’re recruited as a new Avenger with powers unlike any other. With a tragic past blurred from birth, who will be at your side when you realise who you truly are?

Word count: 2,400

A/N: I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL POST. Lol. So sorry to anyone who wondered what happened but please let me know if you enjoy the Bucky and Steve thing or if you’d prefer a Bucky x Reader only fic. I apologise for any spelling mistakes in advance.

On another note, I’m terrible at summaries 😬. It’s changed from my first one if you remember it, just felt like it didn’t describe it well enough. Hope you guys enjoy anyway!! (P.S. I’m SUPER sorry for the late posting I’ve been so busy). Message me if you’d like to be on the tag list :)

Warnings: This fanfiction is M Rated, and the men (really only Steve and Bucky) will all be dominant guys, if you’re into that sorta thing. So..beware cause some chapters may be smutty ;)

DARKEST SIDE OF ME

PART 1

You woke as the sun rises like a canopy of gold, bright amid the blue, bidding the stars to take their nightly rest. As darkness surrenders, every colour changes from tinges of charcoal to a vibrancy.

 A third cup of coffee was now nestled perfectly into your hands as you stood outside the compound’s kitchen balcony. The avenger’s facility was truly impeccable with its finely trimmed grass fields and blue coastal views. When you had returned from your encounter with Bucky, you sat in bed restlessly, wondering what was so magnetic about him. After millennia of being alive, encountering countless beings, human and alien alike, none of them had made you feel such a strong state of wonder as that damned soldier. There was something about him - his gaze, how it so daringly held yours, the way his presence could make your heart skip, mind wonder. It was ridiculous. He was a stranger you had met merely 24 hours ago. Yet, it was intriguing, made you want to know more. It was seldom someone made you feel this way and you wondered what the fates were trying to tell you.

 You closed your eyes to the lullaby of the ocean, breathing in its poignant salty breath, sighing in silent content. Quiet mornings were your most cherished part of the day.

 “Mornin’.” You hear behind you. Startled, you whirl around and almost spill your coffee everywhere. A splash of it lands on the floor and thankfully not on you. You’d think a goddess would have a little more grace than this, you think to yourself and scowl at the now brown spot on an otherwise perfectly pristine floor.

 Your eyes turn to meet a lovely pair of wonderfully azure orbs now shining with amusement. You gather yourself, your scowl deepening...which apparently only adds to his amusement because he chuckles.

 “Good morning, Captain.” You say, unimpressed with his humour. Inner you squealed at his sudden presence. Steve Rodgers was like a GQ model with all the charm in the world.

 He sauntered over to your side, keeping a friendly, and (unfortunately) professional distance. “How you settling in?” He says, his eyes level to yours.

 You didn’t miss his loose grey t-shirt, which quite frankly did nothing to hide his very obvious god-like build. The muscles of his biceps flexed with every slight movement and damn if you didn’t want to reach out and take your time tracing each ridge with your fingertips. Maybe even your tongue. You wouldn’t be opposed to either. Jesus Christ this guy was hot.

 Your eyes snapped to his. If he noticed you checking him out, he gratefully didn’t show it. Although, you assumed he was used to swooning women. “Fine,” you said, your voice holding a hint of hoarseness that he didn’t miss. “Might take a little getting used to, but everyone seems great” you finished, with a smile.

 Steve nodded and gave you a smile of his own. “Yeah it can be tough, first coupla days”.

 “The whole welcome committee made me feel more at ease”

 “Yeah, you stick around long enough they’ll start to feel like family” he said sympathetically, correctly guessing family was a sore spot for you.

 Your eyes turned to him, unsurprised “You read my file.”

 “Always do my homework on new recruits” he explained “Fury runs files through us before approval...it’s not often someone gets recommended for the team. When Fury found out about you, and what you could do, he wanted you on board ASAP. We didn’t protest.”

 You raised a brow “So I got the Tony and Cap stamp of approval? I’m flattered”

 He grins “No doubt your file is quite impressive, the team could definitely use someone like you on our side. Thor didn’t seem thrilled with the idea the idea, though. He protested to say the least.”

 You chuckled, but there was nothing but bitterness behind it “Yes. I can imagine” He raised a brow and you looked away from him in memory. It didn’t go unnoticed that he wasn’t part of your welcome party last night. Odin disliked you for reasons unbeknownst - Thor and you were the best of friends, once upon a time. He took pity on you, swearing to convince his father to allow you refuge on Asgard. Days later, he returned with a wary look on his face, claiming to know ‘who you really are’. You never saw him again.

“Long story,” You told Steve.

His hand gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and his next words were said like velvet, “If you ever need to talk, I have all the time in the world. Literally,” you appreciated Steve, he was like a beacon of safety and warmth. The kinda guy that would take your deepest, darkest secrets to the grave because he promised.

You smiled at him warmly. It was unlikely you’d take him up on that, but you were grateful for his sincerity. “I’ll keep that in mind” He simply nods in response.

Moments later, he sighs loudly before downing all his coffee, placing the cup on the table beside him and turning to you with a mischievous look in his eyes. “Wanna spar?” He asks, both hands on hips and lips tipped up in challenge. You raise a surprised eyebrow and he grins “What? Scared you’ll lose?”

 You chuckle, appreciating the change of topic. “I see you didn’t do all your homework on me, Captain” you say, placing your unfinished coffee on the table. You levelled his challenging gaze with your own, “Both know I could beat you with my eyes closed” you retort, teasingly, and he smiles with wonderful curiosity.

 “I did read your file. Thoroughly” he retorts, stepping closer to you. You suddenly felt very small against his ridiculously tall frame. “You’re enhanced. Healing powers, fast reflexes, better than any Soviet-trained assassin according to SHIELD” he stopped with pointed humour “although I’m sure Bucky and Natasha will contest that”, that made you scoff. “Besides, new recruits need training”

 “I’m impressed. Although I think you’ll find your time as a popsicle has nothing on my literal thousand-year-old experience.” You said with a grin

 “Oh, so that’s how we’re playing it?” He asked with a hearty laugh and right then you were certain no galaxy in the world could show you anything more pleasant.

 “Hey, you started it Cap, I’m known for my retribution”

 “I’m sure you’ll go easy on me” he adds.

 You gave him a smirk “No promises”

 ~~~

 “You okay down there, Cap?” You say, your voice trembling with humour.

 Steve Rodgers looks up at you from the hard floor of the training room. Salty droplets flow down his face like soft summer rain, dripping onto the concrete as he sits to regain his breath.

 He lets out a huffed breath and repeats your earlier words “I’m impressed”

 You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, eyes shining with obvious pride. You had just taken down the world’s favourite golden boy with nothing but a few fight moves. Needless to say, Cap had some good moves of his own and had almost got you down a few times. Then again, you are of a completely superior alien race, so you’d give him some credit.

 “Well, not like Fury to employ any average gal- “you began, before a strong hand wrapped around your ankle and you were suddenly falling down, moments away from head butting the floor before strong hands wrapped around your waist, guiding you to land quite snug on Steve’s lap.

 He gave you an amused look “You were saying?” Suddenly, you were very aware of his warm hands against your waist and you couldn’t think of a better feeling.

 Actually...maybe you could...because right now your hands were resting on his chest and holy hell does it feel nice. All you wanted to do was rip off his shirt and set it ablaze. In fact, you wanted to march to his room and set all of his shirts ablaze. It would be a blessing to all humankind to watch Steve Rodgers walk around shirtless, all the time...24/7...would definitely add years onto someone’s life. Especially if they had their hands on him, just like this.

 He squeezes you as if you gain your attention, his eyes twinkling with amusement because he had very obviously caught you checking out his chest. You blinked, sure enough your cheeks were now stained pink. Thank god mind reading wasn’t on his resume.

 You cleared your throat “You distracted me, that’s cheating. Besides, I’m not using any of my abilities on you. Fair game and everything” you finish with a smirk.

 “Thought you weren’t going easy on me?” He said teasingly.

 “You could’ve let me fall and you didn’t.”

 He grins “Yeah, I had a good reason”.

 You raised a brow “And what would that be?”

 You feel his hands softly squeeze your bare waist and your breath hitches. “Didn’t wanna ruin that pretty face of yours, darlin’” he says, and inner you sighs in upmost content. Well...damn. Safe to say Captain America could charm anyone’s pants off. You were just happy this time they were yours. His hands move lower, thumb now drawing circles against your back and you feel your mind wonder to places it shouldn’t. Gosh his eyes are nice, and you’d be damned if his face wasn’t even more beautiful up close. You were dazed, and if you weren’t mistaken, so was he because his eyes glazed over with a very familiar look of lust. Perhaps if you just leaned a little clo-

 “Well don’t you two look cosy” you hear from the doorway and your head whips around to meet an icy cold stare. Bucky Barnes. What terrible timing.

 You promptly lift yourself off Steve, almost giving yourself whiplash, hand shooting out to hold the bars of the ring. You clear your throat. “We were just sparring” you explain, and frown to yourself. Why did you feel the urge to justify yourself to this man?

 He lifted an eyebrow “If that’s how you spar, doll, you’ll have the whole house lining up for a piece of that”

 Your eyes narrow. Did he just -. Your mouth opens, but before you can reply he cuts you off: “Stark wants us at the conference room in 5. So, when you two love-birds are done ��sparring’” he says, pointedly air-quoting the last word and your eyes narrow further “we’ll be waiting for you”. And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves.

 You turned to Steve and your look of disbelief must’ve been evident on your face because he chuckles as he lifts himself off the floor. “Don’t mind him, he’s always grumpy.” He walks out of the ring, suddenly turning to you all Captain America like as if he didn’t just have you on his lap 2 minutes ago. “Get cleaned up”, he throws a towel at you “I’ll see you in the conference room in 3” and with that, he leaves, and you’re left wondering if all super soldiers are this perplexing.

 ~~~

 The conference room was nice to say the least. Tony Stark did nothing half-way. You were watching him with all his authority and confidence, but your thoughts were a million miles away. Cap sat at the head of the table and you could see his lips form words your mind wasn’t quite registering. Probably not a great idea considering this was your first mission debriefing. Your thoughts were in fact on the man opposite you. His metal hand tapping restlessly on the table, you could tell he was paying as much attention as you were. You tilted your head in silent wonder and observed him with careful consideration. If the hard line on his lips and slight frown were anything to go by, something was bothering him, and you could tell.

 He doesn’t look any less gorgeous when he’s annoyed, by the way. If anything, it added to the masculinity of his features; hard jaw clenching deliciously, eyes miraculously darker, that perpetual murderous look in his face magnetised by a million. Jesus Christ you felt like a teenager. Why are these stupid, gorgeous super soldiers taking up all your damned thoughts?

 You didn’t know what it was about Steve either. His in-your-face all-star golden boy beauty was fucking gut wrenching. He was sweet, ever-so welcoming, he joked, had this calm, comforting aura that made you feel warm and lovely. Like you knew him all your life - as if he were your long-lost best friend your soul wanted to hold onto with every ounce of her being. Your eyes flickered to him and you watched as his mouth made yet more unheard words. Your interaction earlier had been unprecedented. Sure, you were attracted to him, but who wasn’t? Steve Rodgers is Adonis embodied and every woman knew it. He was blinding and warm like the sun.

 And Bucky...he was different. The complete paradox of Steve. Bloody beautiful in all the rough ways. There was nothing in-your-face about him, no. He was mysterious, extraordinarily so. There was nothing light about him - just stormy, agonising beauty. You could tell he was that intense guy. The kind women would look at and want just because he looked dangerous. Just because they knew he’d give them the ride of their lives and probably break their heart on the way, but it didn’t matter cause that was part of the adventure. The guy that would wrap his hand around your throat and squeeze until you were on your knees, clawing for breath while telling him how every inch of you belonged to him. Then he’d fuck you bloody just to prove it.

You watched him with a calculated gaze. You had only brief interactions with him but every one of them felt like eternity between you and those icy blue whirlpools of his. There was much more to the Winter Solider than his cold, broody exterior and you wanted to dive deep inside that ocean of his mind and uncover them.

 His eyes turned to you then. He had obviously felt you staring. He raised an annoyed brow in question, and you said nothing, just looked away in silent consideration.

 Natasha poked your thigh from beside you and you turned to her, her green eyes held a mischievous glint as her eyes flickered to Steve, then Bucky, and then you in silent questioning. You rolled your eyes; she had clearly sensed your distraction and your very obvious staring at the two soldiers probably confirmed whatever thoughts she was having. Damn Widow always noticed everything. She smirked, mouthing “Later” and her eyes promised an incoming, post-brief interrogation. Metal note to nicely ask Natasha to debrief you on the debriefing too.

[rhinozilla]

Whumptober Day 6: Dragged Away

Summary: Connor gets dragged behind a truck by fleeing suspects. Thanks to Officers Person and Wilson, they don’t get far.

--

For a full second, it looked like the two suspected android murderers were going to use Connor as a shield, hauling him with them toward the old pick up truck, keeping him firmly between them and where Officers Person and Wilson were in pursuit. The gunfire had scattered all of the civilians, sending them to seek cover inside the buildings off the street.

Wilson had already called for backup just as the two perps had managed to overpower Connor. Wilson hadn’t seen any LEDs, but he’d also never seen anybody get the drop on Connor like that that HADN’T been an android. The blow to the head had knocked Connor down and left him dazed enough to not be able to defend himself.

“FUCKING PLASTIC!” one of them jeered.

The full second passed, and Wilson saw the chains.

“Fuck.” Person saw them too.

The fleeing suspects dropped three loops of the chain around Connor’s neck, letting the sudden weight ruin the android’s already-compromised balance, sending him to his knees. One of the men vaulted into the bed of the truck, while the other leapt into the open driver’s side door. He gunned the engine, and the tires spat dust as the truck launched forward. The short length of chain not wrapped around Connor’s neck lifted up into the air as the other end of it led up to the ball hitch on the back of the truck.

Connor only had time to lift his head, finally get his bearings, and make eye contact with Wilson before the chain went taut. It was a split second in time that Wilson knew would haunt him.

Then Connor was being yanked backwards by the neck, dragged away behind the truck as the two men tried to flee…Tried to flee and murder another android while they were at it.

“Stop!” Wilson screamed anyway, still chasing after the truck.

Person abruptly stopped running, drawing her weapon. “Wilson, out of the way!”

Wilson glanced back at her and then skidded to a stop, jumping far out of her line of fire. Person planted her feet, raised both arms, and aimed at the truck.

“Wait—You could hit Connor,” he warned.

Without moving, without breathing, Person stared down the sights of her gun. “I won’t.”

Pop.

The bullet found its home in the bald rubber of the truck’s front tire. The tire blew, and the metal rim was instantly spinning sparks as it ran directly into the pavement. The truck lurched to the side, off kilter, and the driver fought to compensate. The chain attaching Connor to the truck swung as a result, sending Connor bouncing more into the middle of the road. It looked like the driver was going to manage to keep going—

Pop.

Person’s second bullet took out the back tire farthest from Connor, causing it to spin toward the curb. The truck bucked out of control before hitting a thick light post on the street corner head on. The front of the old truck formed an accordion shape as it came to an abrupt stop.

Person holstered her gun, and she and Wilson resumed running toward the scene.

“You got Connor,” Person instructed sharply. “These two are mine.”

“Person—“ Wilson warned.

“I got it!” she snapped.

Wilson didn’t spare any further attention on her as she approached the cab of the truck. Instead, he hurried over to where Connor wasn’t moving. Reaching him, Wilson quickly got down on his knees and noted the cycling red of Connor’s LED. Blue blood was staining through his pant legs and the back of his jacket where he’d been dragged across the concrete, and the synthetic skin had failed around his throat and the side of his face where the loops of chain had gone tight.

“Jesus,” he wheezed, working enough slack into the chain to carefully lift them up and away from the android’s neck.

He threw the blue slicked chains aside, and Connor started choking as his airway was opened up again. It was an awful sound, full of damaged circuitry misfiring and air rattling through a partially collapsed throat. Some thirium dribbled past his lips as he struggled to breathe. His eyes were half open but full of pain as he blinked rapidly up at him.

“Wil—Wils—Wilson—“ he wheezed.

“Shh, shh,” Wilson shushed him, glancing down the length of his body and back up, taking in the extent of the damage. “Oh my God…” He met Connor’s eyes again and composed himself. “Hey, man. We’re taking care of this. You don’t worry about anything, okay? You just keep breathing like you’re doing—We’ll take care of everything else. Try to relax, man.”

Connor coughed again, thirium coming up in a foam and painting his teeth pale blue. He was choking on his own blood. Wilson cursed and slid a hand up under Connor’s neck, feeling the base of his skull and tracing the hard line of the android’s spinal structure. He went as far down Connor’s back as he could reach, feeling no breaks or bulging discs that suggested spinal damage. Fuck, even if he had, he couldn’t NOT move him. He was choking—

“Shit,” Wilson hissed through clenched teeth. “Sorry.”

As gently as he could manage, he rolled Connor from his back onto his side, turning his head so that the blood could drain out of his mouth. He coughed again, managing to suck in a ragged gasp of air. Wilson put a hand on his back, holding him steady.

“There we go. Just like that. You’re doing great.”

He waited for Connor to manage three breaths before carefully situating him fully into the recovery position. He shrugged out of his jacket and hastily folded it up. Connor spat out a final mouthful of thirium, and Wilson gingerly lifted his head, sliding the jacket underneath so that his head wasn’t lying directly on the hard ground.

That done, he kept his hands on Connor’s back and wrapped around one of his arms for support, and he finally looked over at the front of the vehicle. Person had secured both men back to back, handcuffed to each other with the light pole between them, locking them in place. One had a bloody red nose from hitting the steering wheel on impact. The other had a hard knot already bruising on his forehead, presumably from the impact as well. They were both squirming and swearing, and Person was a pillar of pure rage as she called in the incident on the radio attached to her shoulder.

Wilson breathed a sigh of relief and jerked his head to get her to come over.

“Connor?” Person knelt on his other side, putting herself in his line of sight. “Hey, don’t try to speak. Just squeeze my hand if you hear me.”

She slipped her hand into his open palm, and Wilson saw his fingers close in a weak squeeze. Person assembled a smile for him, touching her hand briefly to the top of his head.

“Good, that’s good. Help is on the way.” She started to shrug out of her own jacket as well.

“I don’t want to move him,” Wilson stated. “I had to roll him…He was choking, but…without knowing the full extent of the damage—“

“Good call,” Person assured swiftly.

Between them, Connor’s face pinched, and he shut his eyes, falling into an irregular breathing pattern. Person leaned in closer to him, keeping her hand in his.

“Hey, hey, hey, quit that,” she said lowly. “You’re gonna be fine. Breathe. Watch me? Breathe.”

She drew an exaggerated breath, holding it until he raggedly mimicked her. Then she released it slowly, pausing until he did the same. She repeated the process with him until the tension in his frame started to relax slightly, and without moving her eyes from him, she held her jacket toward Wilson.

“He’s gonna go into shock before medics get here. It’s…It’s like human shock but slightly different…Does the same thing though. We need to keep him warm,” she rattled off in a truncated tone.

“Right.” Wilson pulled the jacket out of its wadded up shape.

He draped the material over Connor’s top half, tucking it loosely around him. Person remained very close to him, nearly doubled over herself as she stayed in his field of vision, holding his hand and speaking very softly to him. It was a weird look on her, since Wilson had only ever seen the other officer as standoffish and curt to the point of rude toward her co-workers.

Connor just brought out this side of people, it seemed.

The sound of sirens echoed in the closing distance, and they all visibly breathed easier.

“Pigs!” one of the perps spat.

Person lifted narrow eyes toward the two men, but Wilson raised a hand, shifting up from both knees into a kneel.

“Stay with him. I’ll keep an eye on those two idiots.”

“You better…because if I go over there…” She let the statement hang, shaking her head and turning her attention back to Connor.

Wilson nodded and stood up, stepping away to go shut up the two assholes while they waited for help to arrive.

[hosea-deserved-better-blog]

Hazy shades of orange and purple illuminated the last embers of dusk creeping behind the trees in the far distance. Birds chirping softly, yet clear and audible in the peaceful quiet of camp, intermingled with the calming melody as Javier played his guitar, singing soothingly. A few sat around the campfire, some having already retired to tents and bedrolls, others meandering around camp or resting against trees.

Arthur flipped open his journal, pencil in hand, stood leaning against the trunk of a huge, old oak tree. Flicking to a blank page, he began sketching the foundations, centred on the increasing number of people abandoning aimless wandering to huddle around the fire. Just tranquil, tranquil in a gang of outlaws, an uncommon feeling, welcomed none the less. Arthur moved the pencil quickly but precisely, drawing with ease and talent, rough hands, cut and scarred, so used to being clenched into fists or wrapped around the triggers of guns now uncharacteristically gentle, drawing fine, light lines. The image was developing from scattered traces of charcoal, seemingly meaningless to the untrained eye, to refined details and shading.  

Then everything went wrong. It was just one line. Just one line out of place, ever so slightly. Yet, it ruined the entire piece in Arthur’s eyes, made it look unnatural. Lowering his hat further over his eyes, he sighed, marginally frustrated, producing an eraser from his pocket and applying just the slightest amount of pressure as to not accidentally further damage the drawing. Having fixed his previous mistake, he resumed the drawing, taking extra care to perfect each line. However, much to Arthur’s increasing anger, he once again misplaced a line. Cursing under his breath, he repeated his previous actions to fix his mistake. ‘Everything is fine’ Arthur attempted to convince himself, proceeding to draw, glancing from his family huddled around the fire to the page. Concentrating intently...

“God fucking damn it!” Arthur snapped. In pure rage, he threw his hat to the ground. Actually, he delicately transferred his pencil from one hand to the other, which also held his still open journal, ensuring his art supplies wouldn’t be damaged in any way, and THEN threw his hat to the ground in pure rage, only to almost immediately retrieve it, not wishing to harm the leather, which was already scathed beyond repair. He didn’t shout particularly loud, yet it seemed almost deafening in the mellow camp, attracting more attention than what it usually would have.

This included the attention of Dutch and Hosea, who had been sat close beside each other near Dutch’s tent, fingers interlocked, Dutch resting his head on Hosea’s shoulder, hoping nobody would notice as they lingered in the shade, or perhaps not giving a fuck if someone did notice. It was their gang, if someone had a problem with it – with them – they could frickity fricking frick off.

“Arthur’s mad about something.” Hosea murmured.  

“Yeah...” Dutch responded.  

“You gonna talk to him?”

“Nah, I’m sure everything is fine,”  

A chorus of shouts and a lot of swearing from Arthur promptly erupted, proving otherwise.  

“Go talk to him.” Hosea insisted pushing Dutch away.  

“No, why can’t you do it?”  

“Because it’s your job, this is your gang,”

“Okay don’t even fucking pull that shit on me, this is as much your gang as it is mine, come on. Besides, he’s your son!”

“He’s your son as well!”

“Okay yeah, but you’re his favourite,”

“Just go talk to him!”

Dutch stayed silent, looking at Hosea pleadingly for all of five seconds.  

“Fine, I’ll go with you,” Hosea sighed.  

Arthur, who had been pretending not to notice his two fathers pushing each other and whispering as they approached him (no doubt still arguing who would talk to him), only briefly looked up as the two approached, Hosea pushing Dutch forward gently.  

“Hey Arthur, everything... okay?” Dutch asked, coughing awkwardly.  

“No everything is not okay! I’m not o-fucking-kay!” Arthur snapped, startling both Dutch and Hosea a little.  

“Still haven’t gotten over your emo phase then?” Hosea rolled his eyes, speaking so quietly it could barely be heard but still earned a glare from Arthur. Dutch cautiously approached Arthur, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Just... calm down, son, tell me what’s wrong,” Dutch spoke, concern evident in his voice. With such force Dutch nearly fell to the ground, Arthur violently moved his arm to show Dutch and Hosea the drawing which had been causing him such peril.  

“Look at that Dutch, just fucking look at it!” Arthur spat, pointing at a specific part of the drawing, “S’posed to be a fucking face, does that look like a face to you?”  

“I mean yeah it does, I don’t see-”  

“It looks like fucking shit Dutch! It looks like shit Dutch and I’m a fucking failure!” Arthur yelled, whilst the rest of the gang still chose to blissfully ignore everything.  

“No, it looks great Arthur, you aren’t a failure,” Hosea finally stepped in, speaking carefully and calmingly.  

“No, it... I fucked it up, I fucked it all up, and it looks like shit. Everything I draw looks like shit,” Arthur sighed, finally lowering his voice, to both the relief yet fear of Dutch and Hosea.  

“That ain’t true, son, you’re the best artist I know, for what that’s worth,” Dutch placed an arm around Arthur’s shoulders. Arthur didn’t respond, or even react, and Dutch and Hosea shared a nervous look. Arthur stared at the page for a while, the silence tense and unnerving.  

Eventually, Arthur took a few steps away from the other two men, fumbling in his pocket whilst muttering under his breath, words Dutch and Hosea couldn’t quite make it, but didn’t sound remotely positive. Pulling out a match, he struck it easily, eyes fixated on the dancing, glowing flame, illuminating his grimacing face. He lifted it to the journal, fire eating away at the pages quickly, climbing up the spine, disintegrating the paper, pages curling and turning black before fluttering away in the gentle breeze. Arthur didn’t notice Dutch and Hosea’s protests and gasps, their attempts at salvaging what was left of the journal proving fruitless as he would simply turn away and hold the book out of their grasp. The flames died as the last cinders of paper burned away, Arthur just letting the ash fall between his fingers.  

As Arthur realised what he’d just done, his eyes grew wide, still not looking at Dutch and Hosea, who were so desperately trying to get his attention. Mouth hanging open at the horror of his own actions, he stumbled away, towards his tent, to grieve what he’d lost. What he’d destroyed.  

[imhongwherethesunalwaysshines]

Falsettos Secret Snowman!

My person for @falsettossecretsnowmen was @rohdaly and I went with the prompt of a boys’ night out with Whizzer, Marvin, and Mendel. I didn’t edit this very much and I use names a LOT but yknow

1620 words, it was four and a half pages when I pasted it into google docs so I’m gonna put it under a read more because fuck that’s long

"Hey, dad?"

Whizzer made a quiet sound of acknowledgment, looking through the pictures he had taken that day and deciding which ones he wanted to keep.

"How come you and dad never hang out with other dad?" Jason asked, though the fact that he had so many dads made questions like this hard to word without it being confusing. He's worked out a nice system, though. When he's with Marvin and Whizzer, he calls both of them 'dad' and Mendel is deemed 'other dad', while when he's with Trina and Mendel, Mendel is 'dad', Whizzer is 'other dad', and Marvin is 'other other dad'.

Whizzer paused, pouting his lips in thought. "Because dad doesn't like other dad. Marv has a shitty relationship with Mendel. Kinda hates him, kid." He wasn't supposed to curse around Jason according to Marvin, supposedly it was 'a bad influence' but Jason was old enough as far as Whizzer cared to think about it, so as long as Marvin wasn't within earshot to scold him, he thought it was fine. Jason seemed entertained by it more than anything.

"Do you hate Mendel?"

"No, I think he's fine. He's the epitome of dad fashion, though. Terrible, I really should help him learn how to dress himself." That made Jason laugh, which in turn brought a smile, which eventually turned into a chuckle, to Whizzer's face.

"Then how about you take him to the mall or something?"

"What?"

"Take him shopping! C'mon, it'd be a dad adventure! A dadventure!"

"Oh god, Mendel's puns have rubbed off on you.." Whizzer shivers for dramatic effect, making Jason giggle again. "You said that just to make me cringe, didn't you?" Whizzer asks, a jokingly annoyed smile crawling onto his face.

When his question was answered by nothing but faux-innocent smile and more laughter, he stood from the table he was looking at his pictures at, walking towards Jason.

Jason, of course, knew that Whizzer's plan was to try and tickle his sides because of his awful pun, so he took off running, jumping on the couch to get more distance before zooming off toward the bedrooms in the house. Whizzer kept his pace just slow enough that he couldn't reach Jason, the two going on an all-out chase through the house.

Jason was having the time of his life, jumping on furniture and sliding over things, and Whizzer was just happy that he could make Jason happy.

They both ran past the bathroom doorway, where Marvin was standing with shaving cream still covering about half of his lower face. Whizzer stopped in front of him for barely a moment.

"Honey, it's already the afternoon, don't you shave in the morning?"

"It was a slow day."

Whizzer rolls his eyes, turning on his heel and resuming his Jason hunt.

"Oh, and Marvin? Call Mendel, tell him to come over here at noon tomorrow or something."

Marvin frowns. "Why?"

"We're taking him shopping. You may be a lost cause but that man might still have some sense left in him."

Marvin groans while Whizzer walks away, going back to chasing Jason or whatever else the kid wanted to do.

-----------

The next day, after some convincing, Marvin called Mendel and told him they were going shopping. Mendel agreed after what sounded like Trina telling him something along the lines of 'if Marvin and Whizzer are trying to spend time with you, agree. You know Jason wants all of us to get along.'

When Mendel showed up, Marvin turned to Whizzer and pouted.

"Do we have to go somewhere with him?"

"Marvin, you're gonna have to get over yourself and at least get neutral with Mendel. He's Jason's other father."

"But-"

"Do you know how much Jason lit up when I told him I didn't hate Mendel? He wants us to get along, Marv. At least try. If not for yourself or me, then... For Jason?" Whizzer gives him a small smile, making Marvin sigh.

"Fine," he groaned, dragging out the 'i', tilting his head back in a dramatic fashion, making Whizzer chuckle.

"Alright, come on, we have to go." Whizzer grabbed his hand and pulled him outside, walking over to Mendel's car.

The trio chatted while they drove, Whizzer doing most of the legwork to keep things at bay. Eventually, the conversation went from awkward small talk to an actual discussion, and Marvin and Mendel were genuinely talking and laughing. Whizzer was, admittedly, more proud of himself than he probably should have been.

Eventually, the three managed to more less reach a point of friendship. The tension between Marvin and Mendel a person would usually feel if they were within a mile radius of the pair was gone, and they were smiling. Not the forced smiles they shared back when Trina and Mendel first married, but real smiles.

Whizzer grabbed Marvin's hand and linked their fingers, walking inside the mall with Mendel on the other side of Whizzer.

Mendel was absolutely lost, he had been in here once(?) because he had to pick up Jason after he was done hanging out with his other kiddo friends. Marvin was barely any better, he'd only been in two stores that he could remember. Whizzer, however, walked through the building as if he knew the place like the back of his hand. Which, wasn't necessarily a lie, he kind of did.

Whizzer walked into a store that looked way too fashionable for Mendel or Marvin to be seen in, making sure both of the aforementioned men were still there (He only looked for Mendel, though, since Marvin was still holding his hand), and began leading them to where he intended on finding Mendel some kind of clothing.

"How did you manage to not get lost in here?"

"The better question is why are you walking towards that rack of awful clearance sweaters." Whizzer flashed a grin as Mendel turned on his heel and walked back over to the other two. "But, if you really are curious, there's an ice skating rink across the street that I work at, so I come here a lot."

"Do you ice skate because you're gay or the other way around?"

"I don't know, do you break doctor-patient confidentiality laws and marry your patient's ex-wife because your straight or the other way around?"

Marvin wheezed, pulling the hand he was holding up to his face and leaning his head against it, silently laughing. Whizzer looked down at Marvin and smirked proudly.

Mendel sighed, though he could tell by Whizzer's tone he was, in fact, joking and not genuinely bringing attention to this right now.

After about twenty minutes they ended up finding a shirt a bit nicer than Mendel's usual, and Whizzer was content with this result. Through these twenty minutes, they ended up making fun of a lot of things and generally bonding.

They were walking down to the food court, Whizzer and Marvin hand in hand, with Mendel a couple steps behind them.

"I feel left out." He says jokingly, motioning to their linked hands.

"I'll hold your hand too if it'll make you feel better," Whizzer says, looking back at Mendel, winking jokingly before devolving into quiet chuckles.

This was how the rest of the night went, sporadic moments of perfect comedic timing (And a lot of comedy free puns coming from Mendel) until eventually, Marvin glanced at the watch on Whizzer's hand and loudly shouted 'holy shit' in the middle of a store. The others both laugh as the realization of what he just did falls upon Marvin.

"I’m the bad influence on Jason? Last I checked I didn't swear at the top of my lungs in the middle of fucking Burlington." Whizzer teased, smiling at Marvin, who was looking at him with a not very convincing annoyed look.

"Anyway, why did you do that?" Mendel asks after awkwardly smiling at a few other customers that walked past the group.

"It's almost six o'clock."

"Jesus Christ I've been walking around a mall with you two for three hours..." Whizzer mutters.

"So... Time to leave then?" Mendel asks, looking around.

"I'm sure Trina misses having you around, and we should probably go back home-"

"What the hell are you talking about 'probably go home'? The only time sensitive plans we ever have is getting wine drunk early enough that I can sleep for twelve hours afterward." Whizzer interrupts, earning a laugh from Mendel and a sigh from Marvin.

"Yes, and in order to do that, we need to leave so we can get home before eight," Marvin says, giving Whizzer a look.

"Yeah, okay, let's go then."

After another twenty minute drive, Marvin and Whizzer said their goodbyes to Mendel, thanking him for giving them a ride before he left.

"Y'know, Whizzer, I think a boys' night out to a mall at three in the afternoon might be the gayest thing you've made me do."

"Marvin, you sucked my dick this morning and the mall is where you draw the line? Really?"

--

It was dark by the time Mendel got home, at which point Jason was in front of him before he could even get through the door, asking how things went and if they were all friends now and a lot of other questions that were being said too excitedly to be coherent. Mendel told him that they were definitely better friends than they were when he left the house, and Jason's face truly lit up.

"Mom invited Charlotte and Cordelia over while you were gone. All they really did was watch movies, though, it wasn't very exciting."

"I'll be sure to invite you next time I go out with your other dads."

What the fuck even are endings they aren’t even real

[theamazinguchihabruhs]

Getting A Job #part 1

I rubbed my eye while I opened the door to the living room. I heard some relieved sounds before I looked at my brothers on the couch, enjoying their Sunday with paperwork, online shopping and watching T.V. “Good morning” I yawned, stretching my arms above my head. Damn, I was starving. My stomach had been making whale noises the entire night. I should have grabbed a snack, but I was too lazy to walk to the kitchen. “It is one in the afternoon” Nii-san spoke up. His voice sounded judgemental, but maybe I was just hungry. I poured myself a glass of milk. “That is early...I should have stayed in bed” I leaned over the kitchen island so I could still look at him. “What time did you go to bed?” “Three...maybe four in the morning” I said, leaning my head on the table. I could fall asleep here again if I wanted. “What were you doing so late at night?” Shisui asked. His nose was in the papers and I couldn’t be more grateful I didn’t apply for law-school. The work seems incredibly boring. “Well?” He turned his head to look at me; recalling my nightly events...I decided to not answer and chuck down this entire glass of milk. There was a silence in the room. “Do you sense that?” Madara looked at Izuna. “You mean the shame or the embarrassment?” Izuna asked before high-fiving Madara. Yup…I was still drinking my milk. “The glass is empty...it has been empty for twenty seconds now” Obito was looking over his magazine. Now I had to put the glass down, but I didn’t want to. “Otouto” Itachi shook his head slightly, “It is extremely normal around your age to have needs...sexually-” I lowered my glass before knitting my eyebrows. 1. Why is my brother forgetting I am an adult and I not a pre-teen? 2. Was he seriously going to mention this in front of everyone?! “I bet he used the remote control butt plug sex toy 30 speed vibration G spot prostate massager for adult men” Izuna whispered, “Which he, by the way, does not want to lend me-” “With good reason” Shisui gave Izuna a disturbed look. “I am very clean!” He shouted. “Guys…” I finally put the glass down. “I was watching Voltron Legendary Defenders season three, it aired yesterday, the reason why I was up all night was because I wanted to rewatch season one and two before binge watching three” “What did we even expect?” Madara commented, “It is Sasuke for God’s sake” “Sasukes’ are special species on the earth” I said. I grabbed some cornflakes before sitting down next to Obito, leaning my back against his side. I took my first spoonful of cereal. “I happened to know season three was aired on the fourth of August, liar” I gasped, causing me to to choke in the cornflakes. I coughed loudly, gasping for air. I know my priority was supposed to be the clear my airway and breath...but mine was not spilling my Dinobites cornflakes on the rug. I managed to clear my airway and I immediately turned my head to Obito. “Your last word to me was going to be ‘liar’...”  I shook my head, “You are a monster” Obito has this small smile on his face, shaking  his head while his eyes were still glued on the stupid magazine. Oh no, wait...it was a comic. What a surprise. I grabbed my Dinobites and sat on the coffee table near Izuna instead. “Hey, Sasuke” Shisui suddenly spoke up. “I swear I was going to wear pants, but I spilled toothpaste on it and my closet was all the way on the other side of my room-” “That is not it, princess” He said. I looked up and I did not like the way Itachi and Shisui exchanged looks. It was like they had a telepathic conversation and I exactly knew what they are thinking. “You tell him” Itachi indicated with his head to me. “No, you tell him”  Shisui’s eyes widened. “Why do I always have to be the mean parent? You tell him!” Itachi raised an arrogant eyebrow. “Because I am the nice one and this was your idea!” Shisu frowned. “Stop yelling at me!” Now Itachi was frowning. “You started!” Shisui rolled his eyes. “Stop it!” Nii-san narrowed his eyes They both turned their heads away, taking deep breaths before looking at one another again. Their telepathic conversation continued. “It is for his own good, I mean, come on, he woke up in the middle of the day” Itachi cocked his head after indicating to the clock with his eyes. “I know, I know, pfft...watching Voltron all night? That is a hard sell, I swear I heard buzzing from inside his room” Now Shisui had the arrogant look in his eyes. “We cannot have our little brother do nothing but mastrubate all night and sleep in all day, I mean...he could turn into Madara...” Itachi indicated to Madara with his eyes. “You are right, besides, an internship at a lawfirm? A lot of students are dying for that, it would be really good on his resume too and he might get interested in law” Shisui looked relieved. “Same with the hospital, we are giving him an opportunity that people his age are dying for, it will also stop him from wasting his vacation like this” Itachi did too. “Oh no” I spoke up, causing both of them to look at me in shock. “You guys want me to do an internship at either the hospital or law firm” Both of them seemed shocked before looking at one another and then back at me. “It is very good opportunity-” “No, I don’t want to do it, I hate paper work and people are gross” I stated. “Sasuke” Shit was serious when Itachi called my name. “You are eighteen years old, you are sitting in a shirt, eating dinosaur shaped cornflakes...pantsless...I am honestly not even sure if you are wearing underwear right now, and honestly…I am afraid to ask” “Don’t be because I am 100% sure I am wearing-” I stopped talking before sitting up and looking in my shirt, alright I take words back, “Uhm…no comment…” “Natural lawyer!” Shisui had this innocent smile on his face while he pointed at me. “But I am still not doing the internship, I am not going to be your personal paralegal going through 1000 pages books just to find loopholes so some billionaires won’t have to pay a fine for sexual harassment” “But...we would be a great duo during settlements, it can get very heated-” “Shisui, if the settlement doesn’t become an epic rap battle, I am not interested” I looked at my dinobite cornflakes “And neither do I want to clean piss and puke from the floors or stick my hand in some old person’s butt to get their crap out” “What?!” Everybody gave Itachi a disgusting look. “No, no...those were punishments, you would be in the emergency room with me, you will be learning and observing and I will teach you how draw blood and put people on intravenous therapy and stitch wounds-” “Nah, nah and nah” I took a bite from my cornflakes. “Well, no is not an option” Itachi said with a strict voice. “You are teaching me some weird stuff, Nii-san” I raised an eyebrow. “You cannot isolate yourself from the world and stay in your room all day” Shisui defended Itachi. “But…this is my world” I put on my puppy face, maybe they would give me a break. “You start monday, you can either go to work with Shisui or me” Itachi folded his arm, “Please choose me” He whispered. “Can I go with Madara?” I asked. “Nice” Madara commented, “We can go to the movies and then-” “No!” Both Shisui and Itachi said at the same time. “Do I get paid for the internship?” I asked. “Uhm...I gave you a fifty” Shisui said. “Bribery! I give 200 and I will pay for lunch everyday” Itachi tried persuading me. “No, no, no...we are teaching him about the real world” Shisui said to Itachi before looking at me. “No, you will not be paid for your internship” “I will still pay for lunch-” Itachi hissed in pain when Shisui hit him in the stomach. “An internship and not even getting paid…pfff…I’d rather take real job then, at least I get money” I turned my head to Izuna. “They are looking for strippers-” Madara stopped talking when a throw pillow was thrown at his face. “You wanna get a job?” Itachi had this mocking look on his face. “Yeah, I will do something and it pays...better than a crappy internship” I said. “Hey, the diner you saved from getting robbed is looking for waiters, they owe you anyway” Izuna said. “Then it’s settled, I’ll take that job” I said, getting up. “Excuse me when I enjoy my dinobites in peace” I walked to the kitchen. “He is really not wearing underwear” Izuna commented. “Is that really a surprise?” Shisui asked. “At least he is not naked…” Itachi commented. “Half-naked...you still fail 50%” Madara added. “Come on guys...how much does he have to hide anyway?” Obito commented and now the was laughter in the room...damn siblings were savages. Oxoxoxo So I took the job at the diner. I immediately got it because not only does the chef have a crush on me. I also saved that place from a robbery once. Izuna was right. They owed me. However, if I have to be completely honest the days I had spend in this dinner WERE FUCKING BORING! I either had the night shift or the early morning shift. All I did was give people free coffee and occasionally customers came in to order some food. Mostly people working long shifts in the hospital. It was one in the morning when I was standing behind the counter. I stopped listening to the radio in this place because they always played the same songs. The only people here was...one old person that possibly had Alzheimer's. Two nurses and three teens that looked like a bunch of drug dealers. At least in the emergency room you see actually things that were exciting. If I were with Shisui we would probably have ordered sushi while working on some case. I sighed. It was too late now anyway. I couldn’t let them be right...Besides I am two weeks in. I sat down behind the counter and yawned. “Oh look at my hard working little brother” I looked up annoyed seeing Itachi walk in with Konan. They sat down at the bar table, across from me. “Nii-san” I said, “I am enjoying myself…” “You almost fell asleep” Itachi said, leaning on the counter. “So your shift ended? Coffee?” I asked. “No-” “No is not an option” I said, looking directly into my Nii-san’s eyes. “You taught him that?” Konan asked. “No...noo~ Stop twisting my words, otouto” He glared at me. Oh, I loved when I stabbed him in the back with his own knife. I put two cups of coffee down. “You know what happened in th E.R?” Itachi asked, “Me and an intern saved a man from a heart attack, that could have been you, otouto, by my side...eating a victory cupcake” “Who needs cupcakes when you can get sausage” “Ooohhhhhh~” Konan looked at Itachi. “No, he means actual sausages, not dick” “Oh…” Her joyful mood changed. “Yeah, Nagato and I have a bet on who will take your virginity” “What is the bet?” I asked. “If your first time is with Naruto, Nagato gets twenty bucks, if your first time is anybody else...I get twenty bucks” Konan said. “...wow…” I shook my head, “You guys want to order something?” I asked. “Nah, I just came here to see how you were doing” Itachi said. “To see if you were right...” I corrected him before shaking my head, “This is the greatest job, niisan! Nothing to do and free sausage...and this time I am talking about Kevin” “Kevin?” Itachi frowned at the unfamiliar name. “I am Kevin” A head appeared from behind the window that showed the kitchen. “The waiter/chef, remember from the robbery?” “Oh, the cute chubby one” Itachi said, “Aww, he is adorable” “If that was Naruto you would have stabbed him...twice” I said. I can’t believe my brother was such a hypocrite...wait...I do believe that. “Nah, I like Kevin, you should go out with Kevin, how about a double date with Suké and me-” “No, Nii-san, Kevin is just my co-worker” “You still want that sausage?” He shouted from the kitchen. “Yeah!” I said and not even a few seconds later he handed me sausage on a fork. I grabbed it and turned back to my brother. “Best. Job. Ever” I said, taking a bite from the sausage. “Damn...why did I go to medschool?” Konan muttered in an genuinely regretful tone. “You know what they say, right?” Konan indicated to the kitchen...I guess she meant Kevin. “Once you go…~hmmhmmhmm~...you never go back” I narrowed my eyes. “Crack? Wack? Stack? Slack? Pack? Snack?” I tried to fill the gap, but seems Konan had given up to me. “That makes no sense, Kevin is a chef, he makes me snacks all the time, like this sausage” “...Itachi, how do you live with such ignorance in your life?” “...I just do” He sighed. “Well, I am going home, I’ll see you at seven?” He leaned over the counter to kiss my cheek. “Yes, seven” I said, waving quickly at them before continuing eating the sausage. Damn, I hated this job. The sausage was great though. A man walked in the dinner. Looking rather shady. He sat down at the bar table. “You want some coffee?” I asked, still eating the sausage. “Yes” He said, taking his sunglasses off. I put a mug down in front of him before pouring coffee in it. “There you go, here is a menu, tell me when you want to order anything”   “Thank you...you are...cute” He said while knitting his eyebrows, “How old are you? 16?” “I am 18...and even though I appreciate being called cute, I prefer sexy” I sighed leaning against the counter. “Why is that?” The man asked. “It is just that I am an adult and everyone still sees me as a baby, my brothers, I have five older brothers, they are all so good looking and I am just...me…” I shook my head. I realized being sleepy makes me talk a lot to strangers. “Owh...honey” He said, “Cute gets you places” “I don’t really care about being sexy anyway, my daddy taught me to be strong in this world, I mean, sure...he died when I was fourteen and he did made me fight against trained men twice my size...but I learned things none of my brothers can, God bless him, I miss him...sometimes I wonder how he used to smell...but then I open a bottle of scotch and it bring me back to him” “Wow, you are perfect” He said. I raised an eyebrow. What did I say? I don’t even remember? I just babbled. The man looked around him before leaning in. “Are you looking to make some easy money?” He asked. “Easy money? How much are we talking because I am making 7.35 bucks an hours and I work 6 hours a day, 3 days a week “ “Oh boy, are you up for a treat” He grabbed a card from his pocket and gave it to me. “Meet me at the address Monday at noon” He said. “...oh, I’m not a prostitute...but say if I were, how much?” I asked. “It is not prostitution?” “Oh...did I mention I can pole dance?”   The man gave me a weird look. “You will see, but the pay is very high” He said. I gasped. “Am I a hitman?” I whispered. “Boy, you should be so happy you got that ass because your brain ain’t getting you nowhere” He said. ===Thanks for edited @failureoftheyear===

[readbookywooks]

Eddard

Robert, I beg of you," Ned pleaded, "hear what you are saying. You are talking of murdering a child." "The whore is pregnant!" The king's fist slammed down on the council table loud as a thunderclap. "I warned you this would happen, Ned. Back in the barrowlands, I warned you, but you did not care to hear it. Well, you'll hear it now. I want them dead, mother and child both, and that fool Viserys as well. Is that plain enough for you? I want them dead." The other councillors were all doing their best to pretend that they were somewhere else. No doubt they were wiser than he was. Eddard Stark had seldom felt quite so alone. "You will dishonor yourself forever if you do this." "Then let it be on my head, so long as it is done. I am not so blind that I cannot see the shadow of the axe when it is hanging over my own neck." "There is no axe," Ned told his king. "Only the shadow of a shadow, twenty years removed . . . if it exists at all." "If?" Varys asked softly, wringing powdered hands together. "My lord, you wrong me. Would I bring ties to king and council?" Ned looked at the eunuch coldly. "You would bring us the whisperings of a traitor half a world away, my lord. Perhaps Mormont is wrong. Perhaps he is lying." "Ser Jorah would not dare deceive me," Varys said with a sly smile. "Rely on it, my lord. The princess is with child." "So you say. If you are wrong, we need not fear. If the girl miscarries, we need not fear. If she births a daughter in place of a son, we need not fear. If the babe dies in infancy, we need not fear." "But if it is a boy?" Robert insisted. "If he lives?" "The narrow sea would still lie between us. I shall fear the Dothraki the day they teach their horses to run on water." The king took a swallow of wine and glowered at Ned across the council table. "So you would counsel me to do nothing until the dragonspawn has landed his army on my shores, is that it?" "This ‘dragonspawn' is in his mother's belly," Ned said. "Even Aegon did no conquering until after he was weaned." "Gods! You are stubborn as an aurochs, Stark." The king looked around the council table. "Have the rest of you mislaid your tongues? Will no one talk sense to this frozen-faced fool?" Varys gave the king an unctuous smile and laid a soft hand on Ned's sleeve. "I understand your qualms, Lord Eddard, truly I do. It gave me no joy to bring this grievous news to council. It is a terrible thing we contemplate, a vile thing. Yet we who presume to rule must do vile things for the good of the realm, howevermuch it pains us." Lord Renly shrugged. "The matter seems simple enough to me. We ought to have had Viserys and his sister killed years ago, but His Grace my brother made the mistake of listening to Jon Arryn." "Mercy is never a mistake, Lord Renly," Ned replied. "On the Trident, Ser Barristan here cut down a dozen good men, Robert's friends and mine. When they brought him to us, grievously wounded and near death, Roose Bolton urged us to cut his throat, but your brother said, ‘I will not kill a man for loyalty, nor for fighting well,' and sent his own maester to tend Ser Barristan's wounds." He gave the king a long cool look. "Would that man were here today." Robert had shame enough to blush. "It was not the same," he complained. "Ser Barristan was a knight of the Kingsguard." "Whereas Daenerys is a fourteen-year-old girl." Ned knew he was pushing this well past the point of wisdom, yet he could not keep silent. "Robert, I ask you, what did we rise against Aerys Targaryen for, if not to put an end to the murder of children?" "To put an end to Targaryens!" the king growled. "Your Grace, I never knew you to fear Rhaegar." Ned fought to keep the scorn out of his voice, and failed. "Have the years so unmanned you that you tremble at the shadow of an unborn child?" Robert purpled. "No more, Ned," he warned, pointing. "Not another word. Have you forgotten who is king here?" "No, Your Grace," Ned replied. "Have you?" "Enough!" the king bellowed. "I am sick of talk. I'll be done with this, or be damned. What say you all?" "She must be killed," Lord Renly declared. "We have no choice," murmured Varys. "Sadly, sadly . . . " Ser Barristan Selmy raised his pale blue eyes from the table and said, "Your Grace, there is honor in facing an enemy on the battlefield, but none in killing him in his mother's womb. Forgive me, but I must stand with Lord Eddard." Grand Maester Pycelle cleared his throat, a process that seemed to take some minutes. "My order serves the realm, not the ruler. Once I counseled King Aerys as loyally as I counsel King Robert now, so I bear this girl child of his no ill will. Yet I ask you this—should war come again, how many soldiers will die? How many towns will burn? How many children will be ripped from their mothers to perish on the end of a spear?" He stroked his luxuriant white beard, infinitely sad, infinitely weary. "Is it not wiser, even kinder, that Daenerys Targaryen should die now so that tens of thousands might live?" "Kinder," Varys said. "Oh, well and truly spoken, Grand Maester. It is so true. Should the gods in their caprice grant Daenerys Targaryen a son, the realm must bleed." Littlefinger was the last. As Ned looked to him, Lord Petyr stifled a yawn. "When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman, the best thing to do is close your eyes and get on with it," he declared. "Waiting won't make the maid any prettier. Kiss her and be done with it." "Kiss her?" Ser Barristan repeated, aghast. "A steel kiss," said Littlefinger. Robert turned to face his Hand. "Well, there it is, Ned. You and Selmy stand alone on this matter. The only question that remains is, who can we find to kill her?" "Mormont craves a royal pardon," Lord Renly reminded them. "Desperately," Varys said, "yet he craves life even more. By now, the princess nears Vaes Dothrak, where it is death to draw a blade. If I told you what the Dothraki would do to the poor man who used one on a khaleesi, none of you would sleep tonight." He stroked a powdered cheek. "Now, poison . . . the tears of Lys, let us say. Khal Drogo need never know it was not a natural death." Grand Maester Pycelle's sleepy eyes flicked open. He squinted suspiciously at the eunuch. "Poison is a coward's weapon," the king complained. Ned had heard enough. "You send hired knives to kill a fourteen-year-old girl and still quibble about honor?" He pushed back his chair and stood. "Do it yourself, Robert. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. Look her in the eyes before you kill her. See her tears, hear her last words. You owe her that much at least." "Gods," the king swore, the word exploding out of him as if he could barely contain his fury. "You mean it, damn you." He reached for the flagon of wine at his elbow, found it empty, and flung it away to shatter against the wall. "I am out of wine and out of patience. Enough of this. Just have it done." "I will not be part of murder, Robert. Do as you will, but do not ask me to fix my seal to it." For a moment Robert did not seem to understand what Ned was saying. Defiance was not a dish he tasted often. Slowly his face changed as comprehension came. His eyes narrowed and a flush crept up his neck past the velvet collar. He pointed an angry finger at Ned. "You are the King's Hand, Lord Stark. You will do as I command you, or I'll find me a Hand who will." "I wish him every success." Ned unfastened the heavy clasp that clutched at the folds of his cloak, the ornate silver hand that was his badge of office. He laid it on the table in front of the king, saddened by the memory of the man who had pinned it on him, the friend he had loved. "I thought you a better man than this, Robert. I thought we had made a nobler king." Robert's face was purple. "Out," he croaked, choking on his rage. "Out, damn you, I'm done with you. What are you waiting for? Go, run back to Winterfell. And make certain I never look on your face again, or I swear, I'll have your head on a spike!" Ned bowed, and turned on his heel without another word. He could feel Robert's eyes on his back. As he strode from the council chambers, the discussion resumed with scarcely a pause. "On Braavos there is a society called the Faceless Men," Grand Maester Pycelle offered. "Do you have any idea how costly they are?" Littlefinger complained. "You could hire an army of common sellswords for half the price, and that's for a merchant. I don't dare think what they might ask for a princess." The closing of the door behind him silenced the voices. Ser Boros Blount was stationed outside the chamber, wearing the long white cloak and armor of the Kingsguard. He gave Ned a quick, curious glance from the corner of his eye, but asked no questions. The day felt heavy and oppressive as he crossed the bailey back to the Tower of the Hand. He could feel the threat of rain in the air. Ned would have welcomed it. It might have made him feel a trifle less unclean. When he reached his solar, he summoned Vayon Poole. The steward came at once. "You sent for me, my lord Hand?" "Hand no longer," Ned told him. "The king and I have quarreled. We shall be returning to Winterfell." "I shall begin making arrangements at once, my lord. We will need a fortnight to ready everything for the journey." "We may not have a fortnight. We may not have a day. The king mentioned something about seeing my head on a spike." Ned frowned. He did not truly believe the king would harm him, not Robert. He was angry now, but once Ned was safely out of sight, his rage would cool as it always did. Always? Suddenly, uncomfortably, he found himself recalling Rhaegar Targaryen. Fifteen years dead, yet Robert hates him as much as ever. It was a disturbing notion . . . and there was the other matter, the business with Catelyn and the dwarf that Yoren had warned him of last night. That would come to light soon, as sure as sunrise, and with the king in such a black fury . . . Robert might not care a fig for Tyrion Lannister, but it would touch on his pride, and there was no telling what the queen might do. "It might be safest if I went on ahead," he told Poole. "I will take my daughters and a few guardsmen. The rest of you can follow when you are ready. Inform Jory, but tell no one else, and do nothing until the girls and I have gone. The castle is full of eyes and ears, and I would rather my plans were not known." "As you command, my lord." When he had gone, Eddard Stark went to the window and sat brooding. Robert had left him no choice that he could see. He ought to thank him. It would be good to return to Winterfell. He ought never have left. His sons were waiting there. Perhaps he and Catelyn would make a new son together when he returned, they were not so old yet. And of late he had often found himself dreaming of snow, of the deep quiet of the wolfswood at night. And yet, the thought of leaving angered him as well. So much was still undone. Robert and his council of cravens and flatterers would beggar the realm if left unchecked . . . or, worse, sell it to the Lannisters in payment of their loans. And the truth of Jon Arryn's death still eluded him. Oh, he had found a few pieces, enough to convince him that Jon had indeed been murdered, but that was no more than the spoor of an animal on the forest floor. He had not sighted the beast itself yet, though he sensed it was there, lurking, hidden, treacherous. It struck him suddenly that he might return to Winterfell by sea. Ned was no sailor, and ordinarily would have preferred the kingsroad, but if he took ship he could stop at Dragonstone and speak with Stannis Baratheon. Pycelle had sent a raven off across the water, with a polite letter from Ned requesting Lord Stannis to return to his seat on the small council. As yet, there had been no reply, but the silence only deepened his suspicions. Lord Stannis shared the secret Jon Arryn had died for, he was certain of it. The truth he sought might very well be waiting for him on the ancient island fortress of House Targaryen. And when you have it, what then? Some secrets are safer kept hidden. Some secrets are too dangerous to share, even with those you love and trust. Ned slid the dagger that Catelyn had brought him out of the sheath on his belt. The Imp's knife. Why would the dwarf want Bran dead? To silence him, surely. Another secret, or only a different strand of the same web? Could Robert be part of it? He would not have thought so, but once he would not have thought Robert could command the murder of women and children either. Catelyn had tried to warn him. You knew the man, she had said. The king is a stranger to you. The sooner he was quit of King's Landing, the better. If there was a ship sailing north on the morrow, it would be well to be on it. He summoned Vayon Poole again and sent him to the docks to make inquiries, quietly but quickly. "Find me a fast ship with a skilled captain," he told the steward. "I care nothing for the size of its cabins or the quality of its appointments, so long as it is swift and safe. I wish to leave at once." Poole had no sooner taken his leave than Tomard announced a visitor. "Lord Baelish to see you, m'lord." Ned was half-tempted to turn him away, but thought better of it. He was not free yet; until he was, he must play their games. "Show him in, Tom." Lord Petyr sauntered into the solar as if nothing had gone amiss that morning. He wore a slashed velvet doublet in cream-and-silver, a grey silk cloak trimmed with black fox, and his customary mocking smile. Ned greeted him coldly. "Might I ask the reason for this visit, Lord Baelish?" "I won't detain you long, I'm on my way to dine with Lady Tanda. Lamprey pie and roast suckling pig. She has some thought to wed me to her younger daughter, so her table is always astonishing. If truth be told, I'd sooner marry the pig, but don't tell her. I do love lamprey pie." "Don't let me keep you from your eels, my lord," Ned said with icy disdain. "At the moment, I cannot think of anyone whose company I desire less than yours." "Oh, I'm certain if you put your mind to it, you could come up with a few names. Varys, say. Cersei. Or Robert. His Grace is most wroth with you. He went on about you at some length after you took your leave of us this morning. The words insolence and ingratitude came into it frequently, I seem to recall." Ned did not honor that with a reply. Nor did he offer his guest a seat, but Littlefinger took one anyway. "After you stormed out, it was left to me to convince them not to hire the Faceless Men," he continued blithely. "Instead Varys will quietly let it be known that we'll make a lord of whoever does in the Targaryen girl." Ned was disgusted. "So now we grant titles to assassins." Littlefinger shrugged. "Titles are cheap. The Faceless Men are expensive. If truth be told, I did the Targaryen girl more good than you with all your talk of honor. Let some sellsword drunk on visions of lordship try to kill her. Likely he'll make a botch of it, and afterward the Dothraki will be on their guard. If we'd sent a Faceless Man after her, she'd be as good as buried." Ned frowned. "You sit in council and talk of ugly women and steel kisses, and now you expect me to believe that you tried to protect the girl? How big a fool do you take me for?" "Well, quite an enormous one, actually," said Littlefinger, laughing. "Do you always find murder so amusing, Lord Baelish?" "It's not murder I find amusing, Lord Stark, it's you. You rule like a man dancing on rotten ice. I daresay you will make a noble splash. I believe I heard the first crack this morning." "The first and last," said Ned. "I've had my fill." "When do you mean to return to Winterfell, my lord?" "As soon as I can. What concern is that of yours?" "None . . . but if perchance you're still here come evenfall, I'd be pleased to take you to this brothel your man Jory has been searching for so ineffectually." Littlefinger smiled. "And I won't even tell the Lady Catelyn."