#it is tory's RIGHT to stab that man in the back and chest and heart

[detectivesoup]

[infinitefandomimagines]

Things the hq boys secretly love pt. 2

WARNINGS: language

—

CHARACTERS: Oikawa Tooru, Kita Shinsuke, Tendou Satori, and Terushima Yuuji

—

part 1 , part 2

OIKAWA TOORU

• when you put makeup on him / use him as a canvas to practice looks.

• you would do it on yourself, but it's easier to follow along with the tutorials when doing it on someone else. plus it gives you an excuse to spend time with and be close to your boyfriend.

• oikawa will literally complain non-stop about how he doesn't want you prodding at his face with brushes and how all the products will make him break out. but the second you do a new look without practicing on him first he's offended.

• because no matter how much he claims to hate it, he secretly loves it. the brushes feel so soft and ticklish against his skin, and your touch is always so gentle and warm. plus, he's more than happy with the proximity between the two of you.

• as a comprise for letting you do this, you let him lay on his back on your shared bed (the lighting isn't great but at least he's comfy). you'll splay out your products around the empty bed space and then perch yourself on top of him, straddling his hips. you'll get super close to his face, bending down to hover over him, the palm of your non dominant hand pressed against his chest to steady yourself

• he's lowkey scared you'll feel how fast his heart is beating, but you never mention it.

• your face is mere inches away from his and he takes full advantage of this, stealing little kisses from you when you're least expecting it.

• also loves to rest his hands on your hips, playing with the hem of your shirt, finger tips lightly grazing the skin beneath.

• mf thinks its funny to poke your sides randomly to make you jump

• "tooru– keep doing that and i'll actually stab you in the eye."

• spoiler alert: he keeps doing it and you do end up stabbing him in the eye (accidently ofc)

• after you're done, he'll let you take as many photos of the look as you want. he even takes a few for himself because he's proud of your work and wants to show it off to iwa later.

• lowkey feeling himself

• if you thought this man's ego was big before hand...

• "i look pretty hot, don't i y/n–chan? i think blue is really my color."

—

KITA SHINSUKE

• when you take care of and baby him, especially if he's sick.

• he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and both of you know that. mf is literally one of the most responsible people ever.

• but something inside of him just … melts when you dote over him.

• this usually happens when you can tell he's had a long and tiring day, or on he rare occasion he gets sick.

• you'll cook for him, give him a little massage, cuddle him, help him bathe, do his chores, anything to alleviate some of the stress weighing on him.

• his favorite thing ever is when you let him lay his head in your lap. will fall asleep in five minutes flat when you start playing with his hair.

• literally the second he tries to do anything you're glaring at him with your arms crossed over your chest, telling him to get back to bed before he makes his fever any worse.

• he'll insist that he's fine and can make his own soup / do his own chore work but will cave so quickly when you don't give up.

• man barely puts up a fight anymore, just let's you do your thing and accepts his fate.

• almost like he wants to be taken care of … suspicious.

• kita is a pretty self sufficient person, but he has to admit, it just feels nice to have someone care for him so tenderly. it shows how much you care for him.

• he likes to act all put together and stoic but his insides are complete mush when it comes to you.

• won't admit how much he secretly loves it, but he's sure to let you know how appreciative he is of you taking care of him. will never let your efforts go unnoticed or without praise.

• (but maybe don't baby him in public, poor boy gets so flustered and embarrassed)

• and don't think for one second that when the roles are reversed, and you're the one who's sick or tired, that he's gonna let you lift a single finger.

—

TENDOU SATORI

• when you show him off in public or to your friends.

• the first time tendou met your friends was when you unexpectedly ran into them at a coffee shop while the two of you were on a date. you ran up and greeted them while tendou kept his distance, not sure if you'd want to introduce him.

• poor baby still has some insecurities left over from his childhood and thinks you wouldn't want to be seen with a "freak" or that somehow you'd be ashamed of dating him.

• baby boy could not be more wrong, you are so proud to be dating him.

• one second you're talking to your friends and the next you're dragging him over by his wrist to meet them.

• literally stands there like he's suddenly ushijima, just: 🧍‍♂️

• but then you lace your fingers with his and press and soft kiss to his cheek before you say, "guys this is who i was telling you about, my boyfriend, tendou!"

• now tendou has never been one to get flustered easily, but right now he's blushing like a madman. his heart swelling when you so eagerly introduced him as your boyfriend.

• and then your friends start saying things like "we've heard so many things about you" and "y/n talks about you a lot"

• he can feel his confidence growing by the second. even after your friends walk away, he's still riding the high of being bragged about.

• "you talk about me?"

• "duh, why wouldn't i? you're the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for, 'tori."

• he swears he falls in love all over again right then and there.

• please continue to show him off, it makes him so unbelievably happy, even more so when you're not afraid to use pda with him.

• i just know this man loves pda

• used to be really hesitate when it came to pda in the beginning of your relationship. but, once he saw how unbothered you were when it came to being affectionate in public he started to get bolder.

• he loves having his arm wrapped around your waist or his hand in your back pocket at all times.

• he's never told you, but you've helped him gain a lot of confidence and see himself as more than a "monster" or "freak."

—

TERUSHIMA YUUJI

• when you call or text him at 2am to go get food with you.

• it's become a common occurrence and at this point he expects to hear from you at least three nights out of the week. he's even started leaving his phone on full volume to make sure hears your call or text.

• will always respond.

• literally the second he gets that "you up? i'm hungry." text he's already grabbed his keys and is out the door.

• sometimes you feel guilty for waking him up, but he always says something like "i was awake anyways" or "i'm kinda hungry too, perfect timing."

• terushima yuuji was in fact neither awake nor hungry. 

• but he'll be damned if you ask someone else

• one time you went a week without asking him to go and mf got so butthurt. was all like: "babe are you cheating on me? are you asking other people to take you to get food? i thought you loved me." (doesn't actually think you're cheating, he just likes being dramatic).

• he loves blasting music while you both sing at the top of your lungs with the windows down on your little convince store trips.

• it's just a miniscule little moment but it's makes his heart happy every time.

• 2am chats with terushima yuuji are next level, you can't convince me otherwise.

• sometimes when the two of you are too riled up from your trip to go back to bed, you'll find a park to eat and mess around at.

• the cops may or may not have been called once for a noise complaint.

• after your little night trips he'll usually bring you back to his place and you'll end up staying the night, giving him cuddles as a sort of thank you.

• even though he teasingly complains about you dragging him out, claiming "you owe me." he loves going out with you and would never even dream of making you pay him back.

[jenifersaturn]

Loyalty (has always been a flimsy thing)

Lovino’s eyes are closing. The wound is too deep, and the blood is flowing slowly from his torso. He holds back tears of pain and makes sure to stay as silent as possible. The gun feels heavy in his hand and his grip is still strong even through the blood loss. He is ready to shoot anybody that dares to approach before the help Antonio is sending him arrives. He doesn’t even know if that help will arrive, much less if it will arrive on time. He can only hope by this point.

The world seems blurry and his head is hazy. Securing the cloth he is using to stop the blood from leaving his body he lets out a hiss of pain. It hurts so much, so fucking much. He wishes the pain just ended but refuses to give in to the exhaustion and the need to just take a nap. A little voice in his head whispers to him that a little short nap never hurt anyone in the past. He tries his best to ignore it.

He is almost at the brink of falling asleep- dying, he is almost at the brink of dying when he hears a noise in the distance. He doesn’t know whether it is from a friend or from a foe, so he grips his gun and raises it, pointing it to the doorway in front of him. His head quickly whips to the left alongside his hand, pointing at the left of the room where another doorway stands.

The man that stands there is significantly handsome, with spiky and quite unnatural blond hair. He just looks at him, as surprised as he is; it takes him no longer than three seconds to remember who he is. That the man is not just a stranger. He still has a firm grip of the gun, but he doesn’t want to shoot.

“Ma-Mathias”, the man’s name comes out forcefully from his lips. He can barely breathe nor talk without feeling the blood rising through his throat and he is probably going to die today but he doesn’t want to die like this oh god just save him and it hurts like hell.

Matthias looks at him noticing the wound. The moment the man steps forward Lovino moves the gun if only a little, making a garbled sound of warning. They are enemies, and Lovino isn’t letting him get near him.

“Lovino, hey. I’m not- I am not going to harm you in any way. Look, that’s- that’s a lot of blood”, even Mathias looks unsure about what he is about to do. “Please, let me help you. I know we are on different sides but I owe you my life and you’re my friend.”

He isn’t that convinced, but if he doesn’t receive help soon he is most definitely going to die. He doesn’t want to die, so he slowly lowers the gun.

“Good”, Mathias says as he approaches him.

The blond man lowers himself to his knees, taking out a medical kit from one of his many pockets. Lovino can’t help but feel immensely grateful when Mathias stabs him with morphine, because the pain had been hellish. He rapidly relaxes as he feels expert hands working on his wound, having already cut the cloth around it. It stings a bit, but even then the only thing he truly feels is how cold the needle is.

It seems Mathias isn’t happy about him relaxing, because just when he is about to give in to sleep the man slaps his face gently.

“Hey, Vino. How have you been lately?”

The question barely registers, and he takes a few seconds to answer it. “M’fine, have been better”. And he has been better. Right now he just feels drowsy, and sleep seems like the best option. He knows that he shouldn’t, he could die, but he is exhausted and sleeping seems so important right now.

“How’s it been going with Antonio?”, because if Mathias remembered it right, Lovino and Antonio were dating.

“A’stupid a’sever, I love ‘im though”, he tries to answer as clearly as he can, but it comes out more rushed that he thought it would.

Mathias’ hands suddenly stop moving as they grab the scissors and cut the string connecting to the needle. He winces at how weird it is to feel the string move through his skin, but relaxes again in less than five seconds. He tries to look at Mathias as well as he can, because his head is pounding, and the walls are moving.

“Thank you.” No more words are needed. Mathias nods and then stands up, fast, and begins to leave.

He stops at the doorway to the left.

“It was nice to see you again, let’s hope we can meet again in different circumstances”, there is longing in Mathias voice and he can’t help but agree.

He wants to reunite with his friends again, regardless of which side they’re on, and eat Mr. Zwingly’s chocolate as Mr. Edelstein discusses with them how annoying some musicians he knows are. He imagines Matthew having arguments with Yao over the slightest thing, while Alfred spends time with Arthur preventing him from even approaching the kitchen. Ivan would be seated next to Gilbert on the couch as the latter tells his brother Ludwig and Feliciano about his latest endeavors. Mathias would brag about his latest hits to Tino, Emil, Berwald and Lukas while Kiku spends his time cuddling with Heracles as he talks to Sadiq and Gupta about politics. Lovino would be with Antonio whining about the loudness of the reunion before going to the kitchen to start preparing food. Ferdinand would be there too, with João at his side. Vladimir would arrive only once Feliks and Toris arrived themselves. Raivis and Eduard would arrive together, yelling at each other but eventually getting drunk enough to declare their undying brotherhood to anyone and everyone who would listen.

But Lovino knows war isn’t fair, and even in his fantasies he thinks about the fact that not everyone will get out of this war alive. That they are not that lucky. Have never been that lucky. In the foggines of his mind he remembers his twin brother’s words of despair, uttered in that horrible mansion with no sense of time and space, about how daunting everything truly is. About how meaningless things can be sometimes. That he doesn’t understand how wars can be fought when there’s obviously more important things to fight for. Lovino agrees.

As he hears the faint sound of footsteps and someone he is sure is shouting his name, the world finally goes dark.

Mathias doesn’t know what he just did. He had been about to sneak into the enemy camp when he saw Lovino, weak, defenseless, bleeding and potentially dying. He had to help him. He knew he shouldn’t have, he wasn’t stupid. Romano Vargas was in their kill-on-sight list thanks to his uncanny abilities to kill people with their own weapons. Personally, he thinks it suits the italian: using his enemies’ own weapons to kill them seems like the sort of poetic justice bullshit Lovino would love. The thing is, he had hoped nobody saw him. When it came to traitors and treating enemy soldiers they had strict rules.

Mathias doesn’t want to be executed. He might be a high ranking soldier, an Oberst, but he isn’t as ready to die for his country as others. Defending his people to death is definitely one of his goals, but he does it for the people themselves, not his land. He isn’t that patriotic. The blond doesn’t really believe he would be able to live knowing he let one of his oldest friends die from blood loss, especially knowing he could have been able to prevent it.

Now he wishes he knew how to explain this to the familiar finnish man pointing a shotgun against his head.

“Nice going there, Den” the sneer in Tino’s voice is clear. They had never gotten along and they wouldn’t even try to see each other's faces if they could help it, but they were ordered to work together and Tino is dating Mathias’ brother so they can’t really do anything about it. “Do we have a tiny rat in our ranks?”

He swallows, “Look, Tino, it isn’t what it looks like-” the cold feeling of the shotgun against his head makes it somewhat harder to speak.

“I didn’t see you healing our enemy? Nursing him back to health?” and Tino sounds so judgemental. “He might be our friend, but we are in a war, Oberst Kohler! A war! We got no time to go around helping the men that are helping to massacrate our soldiers, our people!”

“But it was Lovino! It wasn’t just a random man! It was our friend, someone we spent hours, days, weeks,and years alongside with!” Mathias takes a deep breath, because he is this close to having a panic attack. “Vino saved our lives dozens of times, I am just… returning the favor. This is the last time I do this, Tino, I promise. Please, please, don’t tell anybody. I am no traitor, please.”

Mathias can’t help it and his voice breaks towards the end of the sentence, but the pressure of the shotgun against his head disappears and when he looks at Tino the man looks conflicted, resigned and his eyes adopt the softened look that is mostly reserved for Berwald, Lukas and Emil. Tino lets out a sigh before the hardened sharp look is back.

“Just this once, Mathias. If I see you doing something so stupid again, I won’t doubt it. Not even once.”

“I know.” The words leave his lips softly and weakly, a murmur that he knows Tino barely catches.

They leave a bitter aftertaste, because Mathias knows in a deep part of his heart that if the occasion arises again, he will help with no doubt.

He realizes something in that moment, and it is that despite the fact that he is one of the best fighters from their mismatched group of friends, he wasn’t made for war. He isn’t strong enough for it. Perhaps none of them were, he reflects, maybe they just had different reasons and that helped them fight. Mathias just wants to go home alongside Lukas, and he can only wonder what Tino wants as he looks at his stoic figure walking across the field (and Mathias knows that beyond that stoic exterior Tino is just a soft sappy idiot). 

He takes a deep breath and the exhales. He grabs his gun close to his chest before continuing scouting, decidedly ignoring what Lovino’s presence means.

(He hears the shots and goes running back to his camp and they have to move further back because somehow the Spanish forces managed to ambush them. He feels bad for the dead, and he can feel Tino’s judging gaze, but Mathias decidedly ignores all of it and tries to help as much as he still can).

Lovino wakes in the morning, two days later. He feels sore, has a headache, his torso still hurts a fucking lot, and he can barely open his eyes without hissing like a goddamn cat. He is half pressed to blame Antonio for this, but he resolves that maybe it is not the best time, and that Antonio technically didn’t have anything to do with it. Still, he wants to blame someone, and the man who did it is already dead.

He blames (and thanks) Mathias, for nursing him back to health. The field medic doesn’t even let him sit up, which irritates the hell outta him, and the fact that he hasn’t seen Antonio since he woke up worsens his mood. He tries to take deep breaths, no need to explode at an innocent soldato’s face.

The moment Antonio crosses the door Lovino opens his mouth to say something insulting but interrupts himself after noticing the blood in the other’s uniform. His worried eyes quickly turn to scan his fiancè’s body, noticing Antonio fiddling with the hem of his uniform, but no injuries are in sight. Antonio is just as worried as he is. 

“Come, tomato jerk, give a goddamn hug before I change my mind” he says, already seated, as he extends his hand to him. Antonio doesn’t even doubt it and he suddenly has his arms full of a Spanish man. The emerald eyed man is obviously trying not to mess up with his injuries, and Lovino readjusts his posture slightly so his lover doesn’t hurt him accidentally. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“I thought you’d die. The moment I kneeled there, in front of you, and held your hand. When you told me to go on without you, that you were going to be fine and that you only needed a gun...” Antonio lets out a sob, muffled by Lovino’s neck. “It felt like a goodbye. I thought when I came back you would be dead and the medic would arrive too late, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

There is desperation lacing tomato jerk’s cracked words as he goes on, so Lovino hugs him tighter and murmurs reassuring words to him to try and calm him down, and when that doesn’t completely work he interrupts him.

“Toni, per favore, listen to me. Common mio amore, listen to me.” His italian accent becomes more marked, and Antonio stops talking completely, panting slightly. “I’m alive, and here, and at your side. I won’t leave in a very fucking long time and you’ll be so done with me that in our next life you’ll hate me. You can’t get rid of me that easily, tomato jerk. Never.”

“I’d never hate you, Vino. Never.” Antonio slowly lets go, standing up and wiping off his tears. “The medic says you’ll be able to fight again in about two weeks. He says he can’t give you longer since we have a deadline to get back this sector, but you may rest meanwhile. I do have a question, though.”

“I don’t know whether to be happy to get permission to do no shit, or be angry that I am bound to a fucking bed for two damn weeks. Whatever, ask away.” As there is no one there but his fiance he decides he is still childish enough to lay down and bury his face in his pillow in an act of pettiness.

“When the field medic got there you were already treated. He has asked around the camp but it seems it wasn’t one of them. Would you be able to name who did it?” Antonio asks, tilting his head in curiosity. 

He is fucking adorable, Lovino aggressively decides.

He wonders a bit, and even entertains the thought of telling Antonio the truth but ultimately puts it aside. Knowing Mathias saved him would probably affect Antonio’s efficiency in the field if they go against him again.

“Way too hazy, I remember little about it, I do remember he was blond, but that’s all. He asked me questions, to keep me awake. I think I ended up talking about you at some point?” He answers, making sure to hesitate a little. Lovino knows how to lie well, he had to learn when he was a child. But Antonio usually knows when he is lying.

“I’ll ask around then, coulda been one of the members of the 158th Regiment, since they’ve been around patrolling” the Spanish man thinks out loud before zeroing his eyes in the Italian. “I’m glad you’re alive”, he mutters softly.

“Me too.” And Lovino can only remember the times in which he would have answered with a I’m not. “Me too, Toni. Me too. I am happy you’re here.”

“By your side? Always.”

[missesdavinci]

A Tale of Foxes

This is the third part <3 

[Akechi Mitsuhide x Reader] [word count: 1170]

A Kitsune’s Wits 

Tangerine stretched the sky, sundry shades of pink licking on its ends. I watched daylight turning into sunset glow. Mitsuhide had been absent since yesterday evening I wasn’t worried, though, we had a tacit agreement. A faint red shimmer in the back of the garden caught my eye. A warm glow diluted through prosperous hydrangea. Those flowers had been the newest addition to the otherwise plain garden. I knew aesthetics or philosophical ideas of gardening didn’t appeal to Mitsuhide; he probably had them planted to enthral me. The corners of my mouth twitched, I sipped on my tea. Curiosity urging me forward I put on my geta. Parting the purplish pink ocean I was marvelled at the sight unfolding in front of me. I was greeted by a small tori guarded by two little foxes left and right. Behind the small entrance, a beautiful hokora was built on a stone base. There was no doubt to whom this shrine was dedicated. Goosebumps pebbled on my skin, cosmic sparks ignited me. My fingers traced the wooden frame. I gave my thanks to the tree now housing a spirit. It felt vibrant of life. A tingle jittered me, thunderstruck I turned around. 

“Oh, I thought I saw a fox cub moving behind the bushes so I came to check.”

In full splendour Mitsuhide gave me a mischievous grin. I eyed him wearily. Not a single noise had given his presence away. 

“What’s wrong princess, caught in act?” 

“It’s nothing.” I tried to ignore the ominous feeling. “Did you build this shrine?” 

“I saw you eyeing the remains of that old yorishiro," he pointed at the stone. “I thought you’d like it if we created a new sacred ground. Your eyes seemed to light up whenever you looked at it. What’s with that sceptical face, princess?” 

“Oh, you just never struck me as the doting husband.” 

For a second a daunting look crossed his face but soon he was grinning again.

“You’re hurting my feelings, my dearest.” 

Laughter bubbled from my chest. 

“I’ll gladly stab you again, my love.” 

My voice might have been taunting but I was genuinely moved. 

“Thank you.” 

The words fell silent from my lips. I inched closer. Copper light caught in his orbs, he was doused in it and I was captivated. My hand moved on its own, his skin felt cool to my touch. I was glad his pallid face had regained colour over the past days and his exhaustion seemed to be gone. Molten honey in his eyes shifted, for an evanescent moment I thought I saw a fire there. He caught my hand entwining our fingers 

“Let’s have a drink.” 

Dragging me along we sat down on the engawa. Magically a sake bottle and two cups had already been placed there. Rays of silver dabbled the ground and I took a moment to admire the waxing moon above us. Night had fallen gently wrapping the world in silence. Mitsuhide who had watched me quietly handed me a full cup of sake. His eyes never left me as my lips touched the cup. The numbing feeling of alcohol spread in my mouth. My husband snickered. 

“Mitsuhide!” I scrunched my nose. “What in the world are you drinking?” 

“Oh, you don’t like my taste then?” 

“Sake is supposed to be smooth, this is fire! Do you like burning your throat?” 

He laughed. 

“Maybe I do. Maybe I just enjoy your expressive reactions.” 

I gave him a vexed look. 

“I was just not prepared!” 

“Is that so?” 

His baritone was still amused; he took a sip from his own cup. 

“Do you like the ajisai surrounding the shrine?” 

“I do,” I hesitated for a second “but you don’t need to please me. There is no need to change anything.” 

“I don’t need to, but I want to. It’s only natural as a husband to make my wife feel comfortable.” 

Somehow what he said left a nasty taste in mouth. There was still so much I couldn’t comprehend about this whole situation. Why had Nobunaga ordered me back to Azuchi? Why did I have to marry all of a sudden, and why wasn’t I given a choice in all of this? There was no need to bind the Akechi family through a political marriage. Things just didn’t add up. 

“You didn’t become my husband by choice you have no obligations towards me.” Confusion crossed his face. Unable to decipher the imprint behind his eyes, a sigh escaped my lips. I still failed to read the subliminal messages he gave away and suddenly I felt a poignant distance between us. My inner turmoil surprised me. However, a smile curved the sides of Mitsuhide’s lips. 

“Princess, I never dance to the voice of other people’s opinions. You don’t need to worry about the trivial details and who said it wasn’t my choice?” 

He took another sip, purposely adding to my bewilderment. 

“You’re a vile man, Mitsuhide.” 

“That shouldn’t be a surprise. I’m your brother’s left-hand man after all” 

“I’m not talking about your profession. I’m talking about the game you’re playing, the game my brother is playing and I’m obviously a pawn in a scheme I don’t know about yet. At least you seem to enjoy yourself while you’re at it. Still, you’re keeping secrets and I don’t like that. I’m not a damsel in distress and I don’t like that role.” 

I felt his stare, sharp and drilling. I drowned my cup. 

“Listen, princess, this is a dangerous path you’re choosing. However, I’m amazed you went along until now. I’m well aware what you’re capable of “Warrior Princess of the Oda”. You’re also the best informed woman in the country.” 

“Oh please, stop mocking me. I know it’s your fault I can’t grasp any information on this matter. There couldn’t be anyone else keeping the birds from singing.” 

“You flatter me, my dear,” he paused, leaning in close “and you’re right. I am indeed a vile man, but I’m also your man.” 

His breath fanned hot against my cheek. 

“Your wits are very attractive and I appreciate that part of you.” 

I felt his teeth grazing my ear, my whole body shuddered. I resented the pleasurable feelings coiling inside me. Creating distance I leaned backwards. He followed, framing me with both his arms. 

“Mitsuhide. I’m not some cheap woman, stop trying to coax me.” 

Chest to chest, I felt his roaring laughter. 

“I would be disappointed if you were so easy to break.” 

Angling his head our noses rubbed together. 

“Just be patient for a while, will you?” 

Lips almost touching his tone was serious. 

“I told you before, if I couldn’t trust my family who else could I put faith in. So I beg you, put a little trust in me as well.” 

Mitsuhide was a man of many things, but he never begged for something. In that moment, clear as the night sky above, a revelation hit me. Someday, this very man could be lethal for my heart.

[hookedonapirate]

Banner by: @resident-of-storybrooke. Thank you so much for making this, Tori! You are the sweetest!

Summary: Killian returns home from visiting his brother, looking forward to asking a question that will change his life. That day, his life is indeed changed. Just not in the way he expected.

Notes: There will be one more chapter, so stay tuned. Thanks for reading!

Rated: M for violence, language and possible smut

Catch up: Ch 1 I Ch 2  I Ch 3 I Ch 4 I Ch 5

Also on: A03 I FF.N

Chapter 6

“Walsh, stop, I'm tired,” Emma mutters sleepily. She has to admit his erection feels good against her. And maybe she's wrong but he feels bigger than normal. He's extremely hard, and the rhythm in which he moves against her butt is desperate and needy, and she’s overwhelmed with heat. She’s incredibly wet. But she knows where this leads. It leads to underwhelming, unsatisfying sex, and she’s too damn tired for sex that only leaves her wanting, and does nothing to quench her sexual cravings. So, as she always does when he tries to fuck her while she's half asleep, she rejects him.

 “Fuck…”

 Walsh sounds different, but maybe it’s because she’s tired or maybe it’s because she’s been dreaming of a certain British man—his accent and the things she wants to do to him; the things she wants him to do to her—and now all she hears is Killian. It’s all the more reason to stop Walsh from doing what he’s about to do. 

 The urge to stop things from going any further increases when Mary Margaret bursts into the room. Yep, that’s definitely a good reason to put a stop on things. Her sister-in-law has never learned how to knock, and ordinarily, Emma would be irritated with her right now, but she’s very grateful the woman is there to put the fire out on Walsh. 

 Mary Margaret apologizes and dashes from the room as Emma shoves Walsh’s hand away because he can’t take a hint.

 “Emma, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

 Okay, now she’s seriously hearing things because that definitely sounds like Killian and that’s impossible because she’s lying next to Walsh.

 Wait. Back the fuck up. How can she be with Walsh when he cheated on her with that bitch, who shall remain nameless? Emma didn’t even meet Killian until after she had already made up her mind that she was done with Walsh. So how is Killian in bed with her?

 She quickly rolls over on her back, staring at him in confusion. “Kilian?” He was the one who….? 

 Oh.

 If she would've known that, she wouldn't have stopped him. Emma blushes at the thought.

 He sits up, burying his face in the palm of his hands, cursing into them as the memories of last night come rushing back to her, of how she invited him into her bed to snuggle. But that doesn’t explain why he was just dry humping her. 

 “Emma, Gods…” He lifts his head, and the look on his face is full of regret and apology. “I am sooooo sorry. I was dreaming I was still with Milah, and I thought you were her and I… fuck. I'm so sorry.” He babbles on about how sorry he is, and before she even knows what the hell is going on, he’s jumping out of bed. “You don't have to say anything, I’ll leave.”

 “Killian, wait.” She’s still thoroughly confused as she gets out of bed and hurries over to him, taking his hands in hers. “You don’t have to leave. You were dreaming of Milah, I get it.” Although she’s kind of disappointed by this. Disappointed that he touched her thinking she was someone else. A stab of jealousy hits her, even though she has no right to be jealous.

 His eyes are full of wreckage, and the look on his face makes her heart hurt. “But Emma, I…” he pauses and stares blankly at the bed—at the spot they were just lying in. “I almost…”

 “You almost what?”

 Before he can reply, the door flies open. 

 “Get your hands off my sister!”

 Emma turns her head to see her brother storming into the room, marching over to Killian with murder in his eyes.

 “David, calm down.” She says, wrapping a protective arm around Killian.

 “Emma, move out of my way so I can smash his face in for putting his hands on you,” he barks out sharply, staring at Killian with blood-curdling anger.

 “No!” Emma turns around, pleading with David. “Stop! It was just a big misunderstanding.”

 “He was groping you! Tell me how is that a misunderstanding?! Don't let him fool you.”

 “Emma, it’s okay,” Killian murmurs gently. “I deserve it.”

 “See? Killian agrees.” David lunges at him, but Emma spreads out her arms to block him, refusing to move out of the way.

 “David, stop!” Mary Margaret yells as she enters the room.

 David glances at his wife. “No, I will not stop. He told me last night his intentions with her were pure and yet you find him in her bed with his hand up her shirt.” He glares at Killian. “Now, tell me how is that a pure intention?”

 “He thought I was Milah!” Emma blurts out. “And I thought he was Walsh. We’re both still devastated from what happened yesterday.”

 David blows out a depleted sigh, planting his hands on his hips. “I don’t believe this. Do you actually believe he thought you were someone else? Come on, Em, you’re smarter than that.”

 Emma scowls at her brother. “I believe him. Just imagine if tomorrow you woke up next to another woman. After sleeping next to the same person every day for years, wouldn’t you think you were sleeping next to her?”

 “Another woman?” Mary Margaret looks at David with wide, accusatory eyes. “Who would you be lying next to?”

 Emma shakes her head. “I’m not saying he would, I’m just saying… imagine waking up to the same person every day and then suddenly waking up to someone else.”

“But that’s different. Killian should’ve known who he was with, considering he got into bed with you,” David shoots back.

 “I invited him to my bed because I didn’t want to sleep alone, and he did know, but he didn’t remember that when he woke up.”

 Mary Margaret and David both eye her in confusion.

 Emma sighs in frustration. “Look, it was an accident, okay? That’s all I can say. I invited him into my bed and it was a mistake because we’re both a complete mess. So, can you please just turn off your protective brother mode for three damn days?!” she asks him, as though there’s a switch he can just flip to make him less protective.

 David stares at Killian, studying him intently, but she can see his resolve weakening. “Fine, but he has to promise to keep his hands off you, otherwise I can’t promise I won’t retaliate.”

 Unbelievable! “What are we, twelve?” Emma huffs.

 “David, I can assure you, I meant no harm to Emma and I feel terrible about what I did,” Killian says delicately, stepping from behind her. “I assure you, it will not happen again.”

 Emma’s again disappointed, but his statement seems to appease David, so she can’t blame him for saying it.

 “It better not,” David threatens and points two fingers at his eyes, and then at Killian’s. “I’m keeping my eyes on you.”

 Emma rolls her eyes at her brother, and finally, he and Mary Margaret leave the room. 

 She and Killian breathe a sigh of relief.

 “I’m so sorry, Emma. I should probably just go.”

 Emma turns around and steps into his space, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “You don’t have to leave. I want you here.”

 “But David obviously isn’t happy with me, and I don’t want to cause any more problems.”

 “Killian…” Emma soothes her thumb over his cheek and he seems to melt in her hands, his eyes softening under her gaze. “You won’t. We both know sleeping in the same bed last night was a mistake, so we just won’t do that again.” Emma regrets the words as she says them. Because last night was not a mistake. Last night, she finally felt like she was sleeping next to the right person. “I’m just disappointed you were thinking of another woman when you were touching me.” She offers a tiny smirk, but her confession seems to make him even sadder, his eyes dark and hooded. She can feel his pain when she peers into his eyes.

 “Gods, Emma, I’m such an asshole.” He leans his forehead on hers, closing his eyes, whispering, “I’m so sorry.”

 Her heart breaks, and she wraps her arms around him, drawing him into a hug. He slides his arms around her back, holding her tightly and burying his face in the crook of her neck. Emma melts into him, her heart pounding against his chest. “You’re not an asshole,” she whispers, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

They stand there for a few minutes, just holding each other, just appreciating the other’s warmth and affection. Then he says something she doesn’t expect.

 “Emma, I promise, the next time I touch you, it won’t be because I’m thinking of Milah. It will be because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

 A tear escapes her eyes, and she squeezes him tighter, not even expecting to feel relieved by his statement. But she is. As much as he’s grown on her in the last twenty fours she’s known him, she knows they’re both too fucked up to start anything. If she’s being honest with herself, she doesn’t want Killian to be her rebound guy. And she doesn't want to be his rebound girl.

 When they’re finally able to pull away from one another, they leave the room and enter the kitchen where they have the most awkward breakfast Emma has ever endured. David stares at Killian as he eats and Mary Margaret attempts to distract everyone by asking about Emma’s and Killian’s plans while they’re in Storybrooke. Thankfully, they manage to get through breakfast without a hitch.

 The next two days go much smoother than that morning. Killian does his best to make things up to Emma and to thank Mary Margeret and David for letting him stay. He helps with the cooking and dishes, pitches in with groceries and tidies up the apartment, even though Mary Margaret constantly assures him he doesn’t have to do any of that. David doesn’t seem to mind though. 

 Emma shows Killian around Storybrooke, taking him to Granny’s diner and other town attractions. She has to admit, she’s missed this place terribly. She’s glad she’s back.

 David’s feelings toward Killian softens by the end of day three, and the two guys are even out on the balcony drinking beers and laughing when Emma and Mary Margeret join them. 

 The three days reach their inevitable end and Emma’s depressed as hell. And it’s not because of what Walsh did to her. No, she deleted that mother fucker from her contacts, along with all fifty of his messages that were half apologetic and half blaming her for what he did. Fucking asshole.  

 Together, Killian and Emma deleted all the messages they received from those who shall not be named—they both decided to refer them as such from now on—erasing them from their lives. If they’re starting fresh, they have to forget the past, and neither of them said it out loud, but they’re both hoping for a fresh start with each other. At least Emma is. She hopes Killian has the same thoughts. 

 They both decide to head back to Boston and get their cars, and also so Killian can tie up some loose ends. He wants to end things on good terms with the firm he worked for and is planning on telling his boss he’s relocating to Storybrooke. Emma doesn't really have any loose ends in Boston. He who shall not be named was the only thing keeping her there, and she already cut herself loose from that bastard. She did, however, miss her yellow bug, so she wants to get it back. Though she might have to get it from a tow yard; she’s sure either Milah or Walsh had her car towed, seeing as it was in the parking lot of the apartment building where she and Killian caught them cheating on them.

 “Thanks again for your hospitality and for letting me stay here. Emma’s lucky to have a family like you,” Killian says as the four of them exchange hugs at the train station. Emma decided it was best to take the train rather than trap Killian in a car with David so he could give Killian a long, grueling, protective brother's speech.

 David pats Killian on the back. “Well, I’m sorry for trying to punch you. I hope there are no hard feelings.”

 Killian waves off the apology. “Not at all. If I were in your shoes and had a sister, I would’ve reacted in a similar fashion. Sorry again for the misunderstanding.”

 “How about we just forget it ever happened?” David asks, offering Killian his hand. 

 Killian smiles and shakes on it. “Agreed.”

 “Bye, Killian, it was nice having you stay with us.” Mary Margeret beams, pointing at him. “Don’t you be shy when you return. You’re always welcome in our home.”

 “Well, I don’t know about always,” David remarks playfully.

 His wife returns with a gentle swat on David’s shoulder and looks at Killian. “You’re always welcome.”

 “Thank you,” Killian says appreciatively. 

 ~*~

 They return to Boston at noon and take a cab to Milah’s apartment complex. Emma is hoping and praying her car is still there so she doesn’t have to pay to a towing company to get it back. So when she sees the sunlight bouncing off the shiny yellow bug in the parking lot, she sighs in relief.

 “Hey, what do you know, it’s still there,” Killian remarks. 

 Emma looks at him and can’t help but notice how nervous he appears to be. “You okay?”

 He sighs, exasperated. “Yeah, I’m just hoping we don’t run into those who shall not be named. ”

 “Me too.”

 Fingers crossed, they step out of the cab and head toward Emma’s vehicle. But, to their dismay, Milah is emerging from the building, keys in her hand and her purse slung over her shoulder. 

 Emma curses under her breath and continues the small trek to her car.

 “Killian?”

 Shit.

 Emma retrieves her keys from her purse as Killian reaches the passenger’s side, waiting to get in as Milah makes her way toward him. 

 “Killian, please, don’t go. Can we just talk?”

 Emma looks over the roof of the car, seeing his jaw clenched as he avoids looking at Milah. Emma unlocks the doors so he has an escape.

 “I have nothing to say to you,” he mutters through gritted teeth, pulling open the car door.

 “Please, Killian. Let me explain,” she pleads, approaching Killian. “I was tired of waiting.”

 He spins around, his jaw twitching as he stares at her disdainfully. “Waiting for what?”

 Emma doesn’t know if she should just stand there awkwardly and watch, or if she should get in the car. But she’s hoping Killian will stay strong, and maybe her presence will remind him to do so. Yes, she’ll remain where she is for moral support, not because she is nosy and has to know how this plays out. Hey, this woman stole her fiance so she has a right to put her nose in the woman’s business.

 Milah points her eyes sharply at Emma, “Do you mind giving us some privacy?” she asks snarkily.

 Emma clenches a fist at her side. 

 Bitch, I will cut you, she thinks to herself.

 “She stays where she’s at,” Killian replies firmly. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of both of us.”

 Emma suppresses the wide grin threatening to pull at her lips. He said both of us.

 Milah sighs, looking down at the pavement between herself and Killian. “I was waiting for you to pop the question. We were together for two years, and never once did you ever mention marriage.”

 Ah, shit. This should be interesting.

 Emma can feel Killian’s anger radiating off of him from where she stands on the other side of the car. His posture changes as he scoffs and plants his hands on his hips, jaw clenched as he glares at Milah. “Well that’s just bloody fantastic because the night I caught you fucking another man, I had an engagement ring for you in my pocket,” he mutters bitterly.

 Milah lifts her head, her eyes lighting up and a smile blooming over her lips. “You were going to propose?”

 “Aye,” he murmurs with a slight nod, his jaw still clenched. 

 Emma is expecting this woman to be full of regret, to get on her hands and knees and beg for forgiveness, but instead, she’s clapping her hands in excitement. “Yes, Killian, I will marry you!”

 You’ve got to be kidding me. Emma refrains from rolling her eyes.

 Killian’s features twist in confusion. “Did you miss the part about me catching you screwing another man? I heard you moaning on the other side of the door. You were... “ His eyes darken and his voice cracks. “You were screaming his name. You told him you loved him.”

 This bitch doesn’t even appear to be sorry, and Emma has the urge to slap some sense into her. 

 “But I was only with him because he was willing to make a commitment. He said if I left you, he would leave Emma and we would get married. But I didn’t want to marry him. I want to marry you, Killian.”

 Oh, for fuck’s sake.

 Milah places her hand on Killian’s arm, but he pulls away from her. 

 “It’s too late, Milah. If you wanted to get married, we could’ve had a discussion about it. You didn’t have to go messing around with another man.”

 Milah’s eyes glisten with tears, her face finally clouding with apology, now that she knows Killian doesn’t plan on getting back with her. It’s clear in his voice and the way he looks at her. Like she no longer has an effect on him. Emma is so proud of him at that moment, a small smile playing at her lips.

 “Killian, I’m sorry, I had no idea you were going to propose. It’s not too late. We can still get married. I will never see Walsh again, I promise.”

 “Thanks,” he replies sarcastically, turning toward the car door and gripping the top of the frame, “but, no thanks.”

 “Killian, please!”

 “It’s too late, Milah. I’ve already moved on. I got a full refund for the ring and I’m leaving Boston without looking back.” As he says this, his eyes are locked on Emma’s.

 “What?! You returned the ring?! But Killian, we can still get—”

 Before she finishes her sentence, Killian is already in the car, slamming the door shut. 

 Milah’s mouth falls open as she glares at Emma.

 “Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?” Emma asks, offering the woman a sweet, condescending smile. God, it feels good saying that to her face. “Good luck with Walsh. I hope you’re both happy together.” With that said, Emma opens the door and gets in, shutting the door. She turns the key in the ignition, the engine roars to life and she peels out of the parking spot, leaving Milah in the dust as the woman throws her purse on the ground in a childish tantrum. 

 Emma glances at Killian and sees the stoic expression on his face. “You okay?”

 Stupid question.

 To her surprise though, he looks at her, a slow smile crossing his lips. He reaches out his hand to her, and she slips her palm in his, threading their fingers together. “I’m more than okay.”

 Her heart warms at his statement. He’s glad he stayed strong. She’s glad he didn’t let Milah get to him. “Did you mean what you said? Are you really over her already?”

 He nods and encases the back of her hand with his other one, bringing her fingers to lips, pressing sweet kisses to her knuckles. Her heart flutters at the touch of his lips as she glances over at him. “Aye, love. I was over her the day I met you.”

 Emma grins, her cheeks warming with blush as her eyes return to the road. That day will never again be remembered as the day they found out those who shall not be named were cheating on them, but it shall be remembered as the day Emma and Killian met—the day their lives changed for the better. It was not the end of their broken relationships, but the beginning of something good. 

 Something really good.

@onceuponaprincessworld @ilovemesomekillianjones @artistic-writer @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof @followbatb @teamhook @darkcolinodonorgasm @nikkiemms @mariakov81 @kingofmyheart14 @kday426 @withheartfulloflove @takhisismb @ohmakemeahercules @bugheadswanjones @tiffanyyy-ma @authorarsinoe @idristardis @balckwolf98 @xarandomdreamx @thejollyroger-writer @mamegank @whatthehell102082 @myswan-myhappyending-mylove @yasbio2015 @squidvisious @leftbeyondthestars @hallway5 @andiirivera @spartanguard

[ythmir-writes]

Treble Damages

fandom: Midnight Cinderella character: Byron Wagner

originally posted on main original timestap: 02 November 2015

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Chapter Two: the Schreien

At the foot of the mountains near Stein Palace was small cave. It would have been easily overlooked had it not been for the fact that four Stein knights were always stationed at the entrance, doing shifts every four and eight hours, routinely, without fail. Years ago, the four knights would have been triple in number, with prisoners in metal cages being dragged into the cave. But that was then and this is now, and the Schreien was silent.

Nico Meier had been to the Schreien once. Once. And he had never wanted to return to it ever. It wasn’t just a bad place. It was the stuff of nightmares. And not just for the people of Stein. The Schreien was known even as far off as Protea, where hushed whispers about the palace of screams were used to discipline stubborn children. As a young boy, Nico had heard of these stories in Wysteria too, and he remembered the look of fear in a playmate’s eyes when he was scolded for having taken apples without permission. Now that he was back in the full service to King Byron, he didn’t like it that he was here. Again. And that it was under His Majesty’s orders. It didn’t sit right with him.

But then again, these men had hurt Princess Tori.

He couldn’t deny to himself the sense of anticipation he felt when Albert told him they were going to go out hunting, or the disappointment that quickly followed when they were able to catch the culprits off guard at a tavern close to the borders to Wysteria. He had been trying to control his rage ever since that night and he wanted, craved, an outlet. He wanted those goddamn traitors to put up a fight, almost hungered for them to draw their swords and fight him so he could hurt them back and pay for what they did to the princess and Sir Alyn. But they didn’t, the fucking cowards. They couldn’t fight a band of fully armored knights but had the gall to hurt a princess escorted only by a handful of guards.

The sound of footsteps echoed from the stairs and King Byron appeared, flanked by four knights. Upon his approach, Nico immediately stepped out of the shadows.

“Your Majesty.” He bowed low.

“Alive?” King Byron asked.

“Bound and gagged.” Nico replied, straightening. “But they’re not cooperating. They say -”

“They will talk.” King Byron’s voice was flat, low and dangeroulsy confident. He wasn’t looking at Nico but instead was staring at the door with an intensity that the knight had never seen before.

Nico swallowed. There was something different about King Byron. Even the other knights were particularly quiet, not a creak in their armor as they stood attendant, almost as if they were afraid to be the object of a Wagner’s fury.

“The others?” “In separate cells, as you ordered.”

“Make sure they’re awake to hear this.” King Byron didn’t wait for him to reply instead, he nodded to the guard who opened the cell without question. The stench of blood and piss immediately met them and while Nico scrunched his nose in distaste, King Byron did nothing of the sort. He entered the cell and Nico could almost swear that a switch had been flicked somewhere in his Majesty’s mind; King Byron’s aura went from dangerous to downright lethal.

The prisoner sensed it too, his head snapping immediately towards King Byron’s direction, fear and surprise in his eyes. King Byron walked slowly towards the prisoner, who was pinned to the wall by metal shackles. “I will not talk!” The man growled like a cornered animal.

King Byron made no comment. He merely stared at the prisoner as if checking a painting on the wall. But Nico felt that it wasn’t an accurate description, no. Even with the King’s back to him, there was no mistaking the anger that reverberated from King Byron. And when he turned his head to look at him, Nico felt the color drain from his face, fear gripping his heart like a vice and squeazing, almost making him step back.

“The other prisoners are now awake?” The King asked. But it was as if it wasn’t King Byron, as if the face and the voice weren’t his.

For a moment, Nico dared not look away, his heart hammering against his chest, his feet almost reflexively trying to get away. He mentally slapped himself. Focus. He’s not the Tyrant. Nico looked to his side and saw the other knight nod.

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Good.” He turned to look back at the prisoner and Nico found realized he had been holding his breath.

“I won’t talk even if you kill me!” The prisoner spat. “Same with the others! We swore -”

“Rest assured, I will not kill you.” King Byron’s voice was laced with poison, cutting of the prisoner’s sentence short as he extracted a dagger from somewhere in his person. Without so much as a warning, King Byron stabbed the prisoner’s hand. The prisoner shouted in agony, a slew of obscenities following every gasp of breath. “No.” King Byron repeated, this time he unsheathed his sword, unperturbed by the insults slung at him. “I will simply make you regret having crossed my path this way.”

*****

King Byron was silent as he rode back to the palace and even as he made his way back to his study. He could still hear the screams in his head, could still feel the way his sword pierced through flesh. He didn’t enjoy it, that much he was certain of, but it did not bother him as much as he thought it would. He could still remember the look Nico had on his face before he left: surprise, disbelief, followed by a small glint in the eyes that told Byron Nico understood the entire thing as being justified. Nico had been following his orders without quedstion. But Bryon wondered what had been going through Nico’s head the entire time they had been at the Schreien.

He had seen fear in Nico’s eyes. There was no mistaking it. It had just been though brief glances but it had been most apparent when Byron has been about to leave and ordered him to verify the information from the other prisoners. The fear was quickly replaced by the steely resolve he often saw in the knight’s eyes. But Byron saw it, and he knew what he saw.

Still, he did not regret a single thing he had done tonight. Tori had been hurt. Tori could have died. He needed to make sure he was decreasing the chances of it happening again.

He was willing to do even more. Just to ensure her safety.

When Bryon reached his study, he saw Albert waiting for him outside. As he approached, the knight bowed then straightened as he stopped in front of him.

“Your Majesty."

"Is Sid still here?”

The Captain nodded. “Waiting for you inside.”

“Very well.” Byron approached the door but stopped as Albert moved to join him. “I will speak to Sid alone, Albert.”

“With all due respect, I will advise against it. I do not trust that man one bit."

At this Byron smiled. "Your concern is noted but I will not repeat myself.”

Albert opened his mouth to say something but decided against it.

“See to the Princess.” Byron continued. “And inform me immediately if she wakes. It’s almost time for breakfast.”

“As you wish.” Albert bowed deeply again, mouth still set in a concerned frown. He then walked away adjusting his glasses as he did.

Sid was sitting on the sofa at the far end of the room, a glass of scotch on the table beside him. He looked up as Byron entered and neither of them spoke as Byron walked towards his desk. It was only when he settled himself on the chair did Sid speak. “You did something, didn’t you?"

Byron let out a deep sigh. He didn’t respond immediately but instead looked at Sid, noticing that the scotch was untouched. He let his gaze linger for a moment before resting his chin on his hand. "I was able to extract information. Nico is verifying it as we speak.”

“So the info I brought you was correct after all?"

"Regrettably.”

“Tch.” Sid grabbed his glass and downed his drink in one gulp. “Fucking traitors."

"They’re being dealt with.” Byron replied, remembering for a brief moment how the prisoner had begged before it had all been over.

“Good. To be honest, I had wished it was all a fluke. For once I wanted to be wrong, or someone didn’t do good on his end of the deal.”

“You are man who isn’t to be slighted. And they know this.”

Sid shook his head, pouring himself another drink. He was silent for a moment, and then turned to look outside. The sun was starting to rise above the eastern mountains. He downed his drink with one gulp again and sighed.

“The information I asked for?” Byron prompted, leaning back against his chair.

“Right.” Sid put down his glass. He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. “I had some of my people ask around. Your hunch was correct; horses from Wysteria, supplies from Laurelia, and some weapons from Stein and Protea have been procured weeks prior. They made small pruchases, so as not to make it seem like they’re preparing for something big.

"The detractors - you already know this - are a combined forces of both loyalists to your father and those who oppose the princess system. Rumor has been going around that they instantly clicked. Enemy of my enemy is my friend, right? And I’ve been able to gather some hush-hush stuff, that certain nobilties are afraid of Stein and Wysteria joining forces. So they’re backing up the detractors with money and supplies. You know how some young ones of the old families can be.

"But I’m still working on finding out who their main man is in Wysteria. Whoever he is, he’s pretty good in hiding his tracks.” He stood up and handed Byron a piece of paper, “Some of the names are there but it’s still lacking.”

Byron nodded, taking the parchment and looking over the surnames, committing them to memory. “This fills in the holes to what I know."

"And?”

“And the picture I have in my head is not ideal."

Silence.

"Someone is really after Tori, then?”

Byron frowned. He wanted to convince himself that Sid had only casually uttered Tori’s name, and had not been so gentle in saying it. He wanted to believe that he was only tired and he was hearing things, seeing too much and forcing unrelated things to connect. But Byron couldn’t deny the fact that he didn’t like the way Sid said her name, or that there was a gnawing thing inside his chest that was forcing him to feel things he never knew he could feel.

Sid raised his brows. “What? That much you can tell me, right?”

Byron steered his thoughts away from his emotions and hoped that Sid did not notice the change in his mood. It had been a long night and Byron had not been able to sleep properly since the entire fiasco had began. He was, most likely, simply too tired.

“The information so far points to that conclusion.” Byron replied, watching Sid’s face carefully. “But it wouldn’t be surprising that the conclusion they really want is to weaken Stein. Relations with Wysteria have been growing steadily ever since the formal announcememt of marriage. Wysteria has good diplomatic relations all over the world. Anyone who wants to weaken either country has found the perfect opportunity. But let’s be realistic, ” Byron’s frown deepened. “Stein has more enemies than Wysteria."

The Tyrant made sure of that.

"Look,” Sid said, mildly irritated, “I don’t give two shits about what one country thinks of the other. I’m more concerned about -”

But before Sid could finish his sentence, there was a knock on the door and Albert entered.

“Excuse my interruption but the princess is awake now, your majesty. And requests your presence.”

“Nice timing.” Sid said scowled, turning around.

Albert acted as if Sid had said nothing. “Sir Robert, Sir Giles, and Sir Leo are here as well.”

[midnigtartist]

A Better Man

Anonymous said:85. “I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.” with Jamilton in the Uncharted AU?

Anonymous said:Number two Jamilton??? POSSIBLY TREASURE HUNTERS/UNCHARTED AU? 

tori-toni said:Do you mind writing #2 from the prompt list with Jamilton please? You're the best💙 

Anonymous said:2 jamilton pls 

porksoda01 said:can i request a fanfic?? i would really really love Uncharted AU Jamilton Either number 2 or 91 Also i really love your art and your fanfictions, bury me with them

#85  I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.” #2  “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

1,160 words for the Uncharted au 

The rush of relief Hamilton feels when he finally knocks on the crooked door of this third rate hotel room almost brings him to his knees. He’d had to give the remainder of the water logged bills in his pocket to a rug merchant in the plaza to get the name of the place, had had to bribe the clerk with his watch for the room number but in the end it was worth it. Despite his fatigue, his stomach rolls in anticipation. Even after everything that’s happened it still does, it always will. But that’s not what’s important right now.

He knows he has no right barge in like this, but the situation is urgent and he has nowhere else to turn, no one else he could trust with this. If he thought there was someone else he wouldn’t be here asking this much. He knows he has no right to be asking for favors, especially not one this big, not after what he’d done to him, to the two of them. But those psycho power hungry British D bags have the only person Alexander has ever considered as a father figure in their clutches, and once they get what they need from him they won't hesitate to kill him, he’s sure of that. They’re ruthless and determined as hell to cover their tracks, which is why Alexander needs this favor. He only hopes that can put their messy history aside for the sake of their mutual friend

The door swings open and Hamilton practically collapses inside, feeling his way along the wall over to the couch overburdened with hand woven blankets. He drops boneless onto it, clutching at the shooting pain just below his right rib. His whole body aches. He’s see a lot of shit in his life but that ordeal may take the cake. His arms have never felt so heavy, he’s never been this thirsty in his entire life. Hamilton leans back against the sofa with a groan.

“Alex? Oh my god, what happened?”

His body screams at him to stay prone and let sleep overtake him, he hasn’t slept in nearly thirty six hours? Maybe longer. He’s on the verge of passing out but that’s simply not an option. Despite the shooting pain in his- everywhere- Alexander lifts his head and prys open his eyes.

Thomas is still as amazing as always. Strong and witty and surprisingly cunning. Hamilton never deserved him. If he’d cared about him at all he would have left him be, would have tried to shield him from this ongoing shitstorm that is his life. He deserves to be safe, to have that white picket fence life he would have had if he and Alexander had never met. And Alexander had tried, god had he tried to live up to Thomas’ expectations of him, but the unknown and the thrill and freedom of this work had been like a siren call to him. They were both unhappy, Alexander had felt trapped though it was never Thomas’ fault. He often fears that’s how Jefferson had interpreted his restlessness. If he could do it over again Hamilton knows he would do better, because this treasure hunting may be his life, but Thomas is the only thing that’s ever made it worth living, a bigger reason to make it out alive then simply spite or egotistical ambition. If he could do it over again he’d be better, but Alexander knows he doesn’t deserve that chance, he’s got no right to drag Thomas down again.

So, instead of saying any of this, instead of offering up any number of  apologies or affectionate greetings, Hamilton stammers out. “I need a favor.”

Jefferson  is at his side in an instant, sitting right there beside him on the couch looking mortified. “Hey hey hey, it’s okay. They can’t hurt you now, alright. Okay whatever this is we’re going to get through this. Alex what the hell happened to you?”

“Pirates” he gasps, stabbing pain shooting up his chest as he tries to readjust himself.

“Are you bleeding? Alex-” Thomas tries to pull his hand away but Hamilton waves him off.

“It's’ fine. Thomas listen, they have Wash, King and Hail, they got him, they’re going into the disaster and I need to go after them.” He desperately needs some water too but that can wait for now.

“No no no Alex no” Thomas chides him, trying so hard to keep it together, but Alexander can hear the trembling of his voice.  He pushes the limp, blood caked, salt crusted hair from his face, rub his thumb gently over Alexander’s cheek. “You need to rest alright? You need to rest-”

“- I don’t need to rest Thomas-”

“-You need to rest and let me clean you up and- and call a doctor.” Thomas finishes firmly.

“I don’t have time okay.” he pushes Jefferson’s hand always despite how much it hurts him to do so. “I just need to find them before they disappear again. I just need information, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You think I’m just going to let you go back out there like this? All by yourself?” Jefferson eyes are hard and indigent now. “Alex, they have a whole army, and you could barely make it to the couch. It’s a suicide mission.”

If he had more energy, maybe Hamilton would have put up a better fight. Instead he just mumbles. “It’s Wash, Thomas- I can’t just, abandon him.”

“And who's going to save him when you get yourself killed?” Jefferson snaps. “Honestly Alexander, you’re so stubborn. Would you just shut up and listen to me for once?! Instead of running right back out there to get yourself killed because you're too proud to admit that you’re human, or that you need help, you idiot!”

“I almost died you know.” Hamilton relies, which probably doesn’t help his case or ease Thomas’ nerves at all “A little sympathy would be nice.”

“I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.” Jefferson says, and while the statement itself is harsh, Alexander sees the way the other man softens around his edges, his voice low and disappointed above all else.

Hamilton sighs, and he remembers how painfully breathing is at the moment. “Thomas, please can you just-” he runs a hand wearily over his face. “Please, just call James, or Laf, see if anyone has any information about where they might have taken him. Please.”

Thomas looks like he wants to say more but at the same times knows that it would be worthless to try and convince him any further. “Okay” he whispers, standing from the couch. Instantly Alexander misses his presence.

He disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes while Hamilton fights very hard against his bruised and battered brain to stay conscious. Jefferson returns with a glass of water and that same troubled, disappointed expression. Alexander shuts his eyes tight to hide himself from its gravity. He so tired of disappointing Thomas, after this he swears he’s going to do better.

“Here-” Jefferson presses the glass into his hand as he settles down beside him on the couch once more. Hamilton takes it and gulps it down greedily. “Laf says they’re caravan is already two days into the desert.” his heart plummets “But there’s a plane scheduled to drop off supplies, it leaves from the airport one town over.”

Alexander quickly finishes the water, resisted the urge to lick the remaining drops from the side of the cup, and sets it down on the end table. “Alright then let's go.” he makes to stand, but Thomas wraps a hand around his forearm and pulls him back down.

“The plane doesn't leave until tomorrow morning” he tells him, and again fingers thread affectionately through his hair. Alexander preens under the touch even though he knows he doesn’t deserve to. “It doesn’t leave until morning Alex, please just- rest. Just a few minutes okay?”

Be better, Hamilton tells himself as Jefferson’s imploring gaze engulfs him. Stop hurting him, be worthy of that look. God he wants to be, be a better man for Thomas’ sake.

He gives a vague little nod, allowing Jefferson to guide him down gently until his head is resting on his lap. The fingers stroking his hair are kind and familiar, a mercy Thomas isn’t obligated to show him but Alexander will take it. He’s been so starved for him since they’ve been apart. He glances up at him and all his goodness and unfathomable patience, then looks down at his left hand. The homely gold band still shines dully on his third finger and Alexander hopes that that means as much to Thomas as it does to him.  Slowly, Hamilton reaches over and takes Jefferson hand in his own, rolling the band gently between his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m sorry” he mutters.

Sorry for putting Thomas out like this. Sorry for getting him involved, once again, in his mess of a life. He’s sorry that he’s not the man Thomas expected, or the one he deserves.

“I know.” Thomas says softly in return.

With Jefferson’s hand in his Hamilton promises to himself to do better, to really, truly try. This grand adventure will be his last one, no matter what. He’s choosing Thomas this time, for better or worse.

[jarpadandjensenaremyheroes]

The Little Princess: Chapter 9

A/n- I’ve tried to keep this as canon as possible, but it’s turned into a slight AU where Ellen, Jo, Ash, and Bobby are still alive and kicking. And one where Cas never lost his wings. Also, I’m so sorry for this chapter. I’m not really sure what happened… The Character of Tori Newman is based off my best friend IRL and I cried while writing this. A lot. Please don’t hate me.

Word count: 2,214

Warnings: Character deaths, baby in danger (baby is fine, I could never do that), ANGST, this is not a fluffy chapter…

Chapter summary: Show down with the demons

Characters: OFC Tori Newman, OMC James Newman, Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader, OFC Mary Winchester

Need to catch up? HERE is the masterlist!

Chapter 9

The five of you made it to the warehouse in record time. You were glad Dean was driving a vehicle that sat so low to the ground; if it had been an SUV he would have rolled it at the speeds he was going. You had almost worried a hole through your jeans, rubbing your hand up and down the material the whole drive there. And now that you were in front of the building, you were frozen with fear. You couldn’t handle the scene that might be inside. Every single ‘what if’ question was going through your mind all at once, and it was overwhelming. You could feel that panic attack coming. You vaguely heard Cas warn Dean of your current emotional state, to which he responded with “I see it Cas.” He grabbed your hand and started talking to you, but you couldn’t hear him. As soon as he realized that, he pulled you into his lap so you were awkwardly straddling him in the front seat of Baby. He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart so you could feel the rhythmic beating, and placed his other hand on the side of your face, holding your eyes to his piercing green ones. The very same ones you saw in your daughter every day.

“Y/N, baby, I need you to listen to me. Just listen to my voice and feel my heart. Feel my chest rise and fall with breath and try to copy the pattern. Look at my eyes and know that I am telling you the truth. We will get our daughter back, and she will be just fine. We will take her home, where both her parents and her uncles will raise her to be the most beautiful, amazing woman, just like her mother. She will have a great life, surrounded by friends and family, but she’ll never have a boyfriend. At least not ‘til she’s 30. She will be the happiest child anyone has ever seen, ‘cause she’ll have two parents who love her more than should be humanly possible. She’ll be more than just fine. She’ll be great.”

He peppered your face with chaste little kisses as your breathing and heart rate returned to normal. You finally began to register the looks of concern on everyone’s faces. You managed a weak smile of reassurance before you leaned in to Dean’s chest, your hand still over his heart. He held you tightly for a moment before you reached up to peck his lips.

“You are my rock, Dean. The hope of having this with you one day has been what’s kept me going for Mary. I love you. Thank you for being here for me.”

He gave you a loving smile before kissing your lips once more, as softly as possible. “I love you too princess,” he whispered against your lips.

Sam cleared his throat as Cas spoke up once again. “You both have a habit of self-sacrificing, so before we go in there I want to make one thing clear. If you so much as even a single solitary thought of doing something inconceivably idiotic, such as sacrificing yourselves for Mary or anyone else, I will take you out of the fight. I will put you to sleep and transport you back here. That stands true for you too, Sam and Tori. I will pile every single one of you in this damn car and fight them on my own if I have to. We are all leaving here in one piece, with Mary in your arms Y/N. Do you all understand?”

Sam and Tori simply nodded, but You and Dean shared a momentary glance with each other before Cas let out a growl. “God dammit you ass-butts, I mean it. I will leave you both here now if I think you are going to do anything!”

Dean nodded his head once as you let out an exasperated sigh, “fine, Cas. We won’t do anything stupid.” You lowered your voice an octave as to make it more threatening, “but if you take one or both of us out for trying to save our daughter, and she dies or is hurt anyways, I will never forgive you. I may just end you myself if she dies. Do you understand?” You parroted his own words back at him.

Cas swallowed and narrowed his eyes at you, “fine. But the child will not die unless I am killed first, so that honor would be taken away from you.”

Dean smirked at Cas’ retort and you lightly smacked his chest. Sam was looking everywhere except at you, and Tori was staring at the corner of the floorboards away from everyone else. Silently, you all got out of the car and gathered weapons to go inside. Cas had his angel blade and had given a second one to Tori, Sam had Ruby’s blade and his pistol, Dean had the colt along with his pistol loaded with demon trap bullets, and you had the angel blade Cas had given you long ago along with one of your tiny revolvers. Once you were all armed, you split into two groups; you and Dean went in one door while Sam, Tori, and Cas went in another. Luckily, there was only one big room in this building, so you were never truly separated.

You spotted your daughter immediately, in the center of the room being held by a black-eyed James. She was cooing and giggling as the demon wearing James looked at her with disgust.

“Never did like children!” he called. He knew you had all entered. “Honestly Tori, didn’t you get enough of me at home? I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come here. But I’m glad you did. Because now you get to watch as I kill James right in front of you.” He had a wicked grin on his face as ten other demons came out from the shadows of the warehouse. He gingerly sat Mary down in a makeshift crib in one of the nearby corners and two more demons moved on either side of it, effectively stopping any one of you from running to her. James turned back around, but this time with a blade in his hand. You shrieked as Dean began yelling, the both of you thinking he was going to harm Mary. He threw out a hand before the two of you could move an inch.

“Relax, mom and dad. I may not like the little brat, but I’m not cruel enough to harm her. She’s too young to understand. She can still be raised right! The knife isn’t meant for her. It’s meant for Tori. In a way…” he trailed off as another malicious grin crossed his face.

“Then just take me and let them go! If it’s me you want, then leave the rest of them out of this; especially Mary! Give her back to her parents and let them and Sam go…please…” Cas was glaring daggers at Tori, clearly trying to decide if he should make good on his threat or not.

The demon laughed, “oh no my dear. The knife isn’t going into you. But it is meant for your heart.” He sneered as he raised the blade and you all suddenly understood, but you were too late. He plunged the knife into James’ chest, directly into his heart. James would be dead the moment the demon smoked out…

Tori screamed as Sam held her back from rushing at the demon and getting herself killed as well. She dropped to her knees in the dirt and grime on the warehouse floor, and Dean held you as a look of horror crossed your face. You had just watched one of your best friends die. It took everything you had not to run to Tori.

The demon laughed again when he looked at you. “Oh my! Two for the price of ONE! I forgot you and James were such great friends, great friends, Y/N. It’s too bad Deano there has one of those fancy tattoos, otherwise I could make you feel the same pain your best friend feels right now. Instead, I’m going to hurt you and Dean in an even worse way. I’m going to take Mary, and walk out that door, and raise her as my own. She will never know either of you, and you will never see her again. How’s that for pain?”

None of you had noticed, but one of the demons had started sneaking up behind Cas. He turned around as he put a hand on the woman’s forehead and smote the demon where it stood. And then the fight began.

The demon released his hold over you and Dean when Cas charged him. You both whipped around and began fighting the two demons behind you. Dean was throwing punches as you tried to stab the one you were fighting. Getting impatient and tired of fighting this one, you whipped out your gun and shot him in the shoulder. He froze, confused. “Demon trap carved into the tip,” you winked at him as you slammed the blade into his chest, watching for just a second as he flashed orange. Then you spun and stabbed the man who had Dean pinned on the floor. Dean shoved him off as you took off running to help Tori, Sam, and Cas.

Sam had pushed a knife through the throat of one woman, and quickly turned to fight another. You heard a shot ring out from behind you and turned to look. Dean had put a bullet in the thigh of James, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

Cas smote another demon as Sam and Tori Took out one more. The two guarding Mary moved to come fight as well when James boomed, “don’t you fuckers move. You stay with my child!”

Mary was screaming by now, and you started running towards her. The demon’s words had set Dean off, and he stormed off towards him.

You got 10 feet from Mary when one of the demons came at you. You were seeing red, and ducked as he lunged at you. At the same time you ducked, you spun around and stabbed between his shoulder blades. He dropped to the ground as you looked up at the other man standing between you and your daughter. You snarled at him, as his eyes widened in fear. Before he could even blink, you were slipping your blade between his ribs.

Dean was fighting another demon as James was trying to push the bullet out of his leg. Tori was pinned down by the one fighting her, and Cas was trying to fight off two others. They had both lost their blades, and one had fallen into the hands of one of the demons fighting Cas. Sam had another one coming at him as well. Torn between staying with your daughter and helping your family, you made a snap decision when Dean killed the man he was fighting.

“DEAN!”

His head snapped around to you as you started running. He understood and quickly went to your daughter, keeping her safe and guarded. Sam killed one more, turning to help Cas. They quickly finished off the two demons as you got to their little cluster, and all three of you tried to help Tori, but you were too late. The demon fighting her had picked her up by the throat and was holding her in a hostage position with a knife to her throat.

“Drop your weapons. All of them,” he growled. You heard James chuckle as he began slow clapping in the background. The demon began moving towards James, still holding a scared Tori in his grip.

James grabbed her roughly by the hair when she was within reach. “Give your old man a kiss, sweetheart!” He pulled her face to his and smashed their lips together. Tori seemed to be going with it until James pulled away howling.

“You BITCH! Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to bite people?” He threw her down on the floor in front of her and gave her a swift kick to the ribs. You moved to try to help her, but he roared at you, “you move one more muscle and I’ll snap her pretty little neck!”

You watched on in horror as he continued beating your best friend. You were so distraught you almost didn’t notice Dean pull out the Colt. He used one hand to press Mary’s head to his chest, covering both her ears, and took his aim. The shot echoed throughout the warehouse and James dropped dead. The other demon looked around in shock, but quickly recovered. He fell to his knees and quickly drew back his knife and sank it into Tori’s chest before smoking out of the man he had been inhabiting.

You let out a blood curdling scream as you dashed forward with Cas right on your heels. You both reached her in record time.

“Cas do something! Please!” you screamed as you held her already limp body.

Cas placed his hands on her most severe wounds and you watched with teary eyes as the light radiated from his palms. “I…it’s not working…Y/N…I’m so sorry. She’s already gone…”

@petrovadixon

@quackerstheduck663057

[it-refused]

Working Title: Forward, Back (9/?)

Summary:  Knowing what’s going to happen doesn’t mean Sans can stop it.  Maybe he could’ve put it off forever.  Sans decides to go.

Rating: T

Part Summary: Things get better and they have more visitors.

>>First Part<<

C/N: Mental Illness, Illness

Grillby went home to put the kids to bed and stayed with them overnight, but was back in the morning.   Sans was sure that since he had a little time to prepare, the bar would be open and serving people without their boss.  

Undyne ran out right after she arrived.  She wanted to see if she could track down the human, but when she had no luck she was back by midnight.  Sans had been almost nodding off for hours by that point--his head falling down to his chest and then suddenly being struck by the need to check on Papyrus' HP.  Once he gave up on his nap, the three of them played cards until Grillby arrived with breakfast.  

The doctor prepped a cure-all, but luckily they didn't have to use it. Those had some bad side effects.  Exactly twenty-four hours after Papyrus got hit by that strange weapon, his HP stopped dropping.  He cringed, automatically, waiting for the brief stab of pain that came along with every tiny health hit, but nothing happened.

They wouldn't let Papyrus run right out the door like he wanted.  Sans did his best to keep his brother entertained with great jokes while they waited, but that just seemed to make him want to leave even more.  

Half the town came in to visit Papyrus while they waited.  Sans figured that was one positive in a situation full of negatives - Papyrus had to know that the people there cared about him.  It wasn't exactly a cure-all for his brother's lingering insecurity, but it had to help.

Papyrus got to sleep in his own bed that night.  Sans told him and the kids a bedtime story and watched them doze off in a little pile on Papyrus' bed.  Grillby carried Angel back to their bedroom and Sans decided to let Soozen keep sleeping where she was.  

His own bed was waiting for him.  He flopped down onto it, face first, and nodded off right there.  

He woke again a while later.  Grillby was moving him up near the pillow.

"thanks," Sans mumbled.  

Grillby made a quiet noise of acknowledgment.  After a while, Sans heard him moving around their room, getting dressed for bed.  

"i'd make a joke about beds," Sans said, "but i haven't made it up yet."

"You have never made a bed in your life," Grillby said.  

"slander is what they call that."  

He sighed.  "I was worried you'd have trouble sleeping, and then I woke you up."  

"sleeping's easy."

"...yes. You can do it with your eye sockets closed.  I know."

"when i have trouble i just remember to sleep right on the edge.  then i drop right off."  

That got a laugh out of him.  Sans won.  

Grillby climbed right onto the bed next to him.  The room got lighter, even though his eyelids.  Sans finally looked.  Grillby was hovering, flickering with concern.  Sans reached up and patted his face.  "it's ok, pal.  a full night's sleep, i'll be right as..."  Grillby didn't have a high opinion of rain.  "uh, ever."

Grillby nodded and settled down, pulling Sans against his chest.  It was pretty cozy.  

Sans wondered if Undyne would track down the weirdo who was sneaking around their town.  The weirdos, maybe.  Would she kill 'em? She wasn't really as into that, anymore, but he could still see her crossing that line if she thought people she cared about were in danger.  Sans wouldn't exactly cry if that happened, but he hoped they could keep Papyrus from finding out.

They'd tell him that whoever they were just got intimidated by Pap's greatness.  That'd work.  

Grillby murmured something.  A reassurance, Sans though, even though he couldn't understand it.  His words were quieter than the fire that Sans' head was pressed against.

Grillby had to be pretty upset about what happened, too.  He was making himself feel better by being there for them and taking care of the important little things like finding babysitters and bringing breakfast.  He could be a hot-head, sure, and really get fired up about things.  But he had a warm heart.  

Sans snickered to himself.  

"...hm?" Grillby asked.

"you've got a really warm heart, grillbz.  i'd say that's your best feature."

"Go to sleep, Sans."

"it's tough when i keep coming up with all these great jokes, but i'll give it a shot."

Grillby shushed him, and Sans eventually settled down.  He was warm all the way through.

--

BANG! BANG!  BANG!  BANG!  

Something heavy was slamming against the bedroom door.  

"jus' tell 'em to come in an' kill me," Sans said.  "don't make me get up for it."  

"...Papyrus, maybe?"  Grillby's voice, when he was half awake, was a puzzle to try and understand.  

Sans groaned.  

The knob rattled and the door flew open.  

"Outta bed, LOSERS!"  Oh, right.  Undyne was visiting.  

"nah," Sans said.  He felt Grillby put his arm around him, like he was trying to shield him from the noise.

"This is your morning wake up call!  Up and AT 'EM!"

"why."

"There'll be someone here soon you'll want to see," she said.  "You probably want to put pants on!"  

He hadn't bothered to get completely undressed before bed. Boxers were close enough to pants, if people were going to make him wake up early.  "who'zz it?"  He moved Grillby's limp arm off of him.

"Fuhuhuhu!  You think I'm going to ruin the surprise?  Pry that bony butt off the mattress and let's go!"

Grillby suddenly grabbed Sans' arm.  "...don't."  

"you don't have to get up," Sans said.  He was pretty sure it was one of Papyrus' friends.  

"Ok." He let go and pulled his pillow over his face to keep him from hearing Undyne.  He just gave up on Sans the second he knew he didn't have to wake up, too.  Traitor.

"What'd he say?" she asked.  "Is he getting up?"

"eh, let the fire man sleep in."  Sans dangled his legs over the edge of the bed.  His slippers were there, waiting for him.  "he works nights."  

"Oh, right.  Rest up!"

Sans shuffled over to the door.  He heard dishes clanking around in the kitchen.  Papyrus must be getting ready for their visitor.

"I HEARD A CAR PULL UP!"  Papyrus yelled.  Yup, his voice came from the kitchen.

"Yeah!! Let's go greet 'em!"  Undyne ran off.

"THE KITCHEN IS A MESS, UNDYNE.  STALL THEM FOR ME!"  

Sans left his bedroom and went out the front door.  He rubbed his eye sockets at the sudden bright morning light.  The car parking in their driveway was one he recognized, immediately.  

One of the doors opened and Frisk stepped out.  

They were in a dark blue suit - one of the outfits they wore on official business.  Sans read simple determination in their expression as they took a look around.  

"hey, kiddo."  Sans held up a hand.  He could see movement in the car. Was there someone else in there?  Wait.

He took a step back through the house door and popped over to the opposite side of the car.  Toriel was inside, about to open up her door and get out.  

He was just in time.  He used his magic to lock it.  Toriel jiggled the handle.  

"Oh, these hands!"  She huffed and unlocked the door again.  

Sans relocked it just before she tried to open it.  

This time, she looked out the window.  

"hi," Sans said.

"Oh. It is Mr. Funnybones himself, I see."  She laughed, and then looked him over, momentarily alarmed.

"what?" He suddenly realized she wouldn't immediately know he was covered from the waist down from where she was sitting.  "oh.  nah, i'm decent here.  i put my slippers on before i went outside."  He winked.  "so i bet that means i'm more dressed than you."  

"It is true."  She unlocked the door and didn't try to open it.  He guessed Tori was trying to trick him.  She'd leave it like that and quick open the door when she thought he wasn't paying attention. "Has Grillby been properly feeding you?  You do not have any meat on your bones!"

They both laughed, impressed with the quality of her joke.

"you know i only married the guy 'cause he's hot, tori."

She snorted.  He watched her slowly reach towards the door handle, and then stop.  She was meeting his eye sockets, and they were both trying very hard not to laugh.  It was a stand off.  She moved her hand and knocked on the glass in front of his face.  Nice strategy. She wanted to startle him while she opened the door with her other hand.

He was ready, but Toriel didn't follow through.  "Oh," she said.  Her expression softened.  "Do you know what this reminds me of?"

He did.  "nah."  He shrugged.  "wait.  i guess i've done this gag a coupla times." 

She knocked on the door.  "Knock knock."  

"who's there."  

"Cargo."

"cargo who?"

"Car go 'beep beep!'"  

They both burst out laughing.  Sans' ribs were starting to ache.  He knocked on the door.

"Oh!   Who is there, I wonder?"

They spend the next twenty minutes telling each other knock knock jokes.  

Sans' phone rang.  He took it out of his inventory and saw that Frisk was calling him.  He looked up.   Frisk was on the other side of the driveway staring at him, phone at their ear.

"i'd better get this," Sans said.  "seems important."

He answered his phone.  Frisk told him to stop fooling around with their mom and head inside.  

"ok. just promise you don't tell grillby i was, uh,  fooling around with your mom." 

Toriel laughed, loud, from inside the car.  

Frisk gave him a thumbs up.  Toriel opened the door and got out, stretching until her back clicked.

"ok so--" Sans started.

She lifted him up in the air and hugged him, tight.  His slippers fell off his feet and plopped onto the driveway.  

"great. now i'm just as undressed as you are," Sans grumbled, into her fur.  

"I have missed you, you horrible little gremlin," she said.  

"yeah. same back atcha, you old goat."  They used to see each other almost every day.  He'd let himself get too lazy.  He couldn't believe she was here.

She set him back down next to his slippers.  Frisk came over and took her arm, and the three of them went inside.  

>>Next Part<<

[notgonnarememberthis]

A Better Tomorrow- Chapter 8

I’m sorry for this delay, I honestly meant to update sooner but if I’m being honest I just had the most relaxing spring break ever. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

Daisy’s shoulders were slumped and it looked as if any minute she would collapse. The week weighed down on her shoulders heavily. It’d only been five days since they’d lost Fitzsimmons. The sight of Fitz’s eyes growing distant burned in the back of her brain. Melinda wasn’t faring well either. A nasty fall left her with a sprained ankle and she seldom slept. She kept her eyes fixed on Daisy the entirety of the nights, hand poised on her shotgun. She only succumbed to sleep when it was absolutely necessary. She couldn’t rest. Not when she only saw their faces in the darkness. Not when she heard their voices screaming her name. She was always too late.

“Mel…” Daisy mutters snapping her out of her reverie. She’s not sure when the nickname developed on Daisy’s lips. It reminded her of Phil… of Bobbi… It hurt but she didn’t dare stop her. Not when they were so close.

Just ahead was a large stone wall lined with barbed wire. Melinda let out a grateful sigh paired with a small smile. It was a rarity but they’d finally made it. It was almost over. Without thinking Melinda stumbles up to the large gate tugging at the handle.

“Hands up!” A gruff voice shouts. Melinda snaps her head back to Daisy to reassure herself that she’s not gone. Not like the rest… Daisy has her pistol pointed at the top of the wall where a man sits with a rifle poised straight at her. “Put your weapons down!”

Daisy is the first to drop her pistol to the ground. It was the only thing she was armed with. The only weapon she knew how to operate with the little training Melinda was able to provide on their journey. Melinda tossed her shotgun to the dirt as well as her two pistols and three combat knives. A woman steps out of the gate, glasses poised on the edge of her nose and the ends of her hair dyed pink.

“On your knees.” She commands pointing to the ground with the shotgun in her hand. Melinda spies a scanner in the hands of the man behind her and her heart skips several beats. “Now.” The woman growls pointing to the spot beside Daisy.

Melinda moves quickly snatching one of the knives from the dirt throwing it into the man’s knee. She kicks the tip of the gun to the side as a blast goes off just barely missing her leg. She lets out a cry of pain forgetting about her bad foot in her rush of adrenaline. The woman smacks her in the knee with the butt of her gun before delivering a blow to the side of her head. Her vision is blurry as she coughs into the dirt. Her ears are ringing from the hit and her eyes are heavy with exhaustion. She’s gotten a hold of her other knife though. She just needs to stay still enough to catch her off guard…

“Millie!” A familiar voice shouts.

Melinda turns on her back finding the woman pointing her shotgun at her body. Daisy is frozen on her knees, eyes glued to Melinda with fear and confusion reflecting in them.

Maria bounds out of the gates, rifle strapped across her shoulders. “Is that any way to greet your sister in law?” Maria quips, a playful eyebrow raised to her attacker. “I thought I taught you to play nice Tori.”

“She attacked first to be fair.” ‘Tori’ remarks. Maria runs over to Melinda offering her a hand. She takes it sluggishly allowing herself to be pulled to her feet.

“You’re kidding me right?” Daisy asks. “There’s no way this is your sister.”

“Practically.” Melinda sighs. “She spent six months on my couch so I think she’s earned that title.”

“I told you that fire was not my fault!” Maria shouts in defense. A pointed look from both her and the woman nicknamed Tori relented her rather quickly. “I try making cupcakes once.”

“And that’s why I make our meals.” Tori says. “Come on. Let’s get you both inside.”

Melinda went to take a step before the ringing in her ears started up again. Daisy caught the majority of her weight sweeping in under her arm quickly. Maria was right by her side as well.

“You did quite a number on her huh?” Maria jokes and takes her weight off Daisy despite the younger girl’s protests.

“She threw a knife into Berkley’s knee!” Tori says defensively. “We’ll get her to the infirmary. You,” She looks to Daisy, “can get acquainted with the others.

“No.” Daisy crosses her arms trying her best to appear tough. “I’m staying with Melinda.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine Mel.” She protests, “I know you’ve hardly slept all week.” She frowns.

“Daisy I trust them.”

“She just tried to shoot you!” Daisy screams.

“I did stab her colleague.”

“Yeah but-”

“No buts.” Melinda scolds, “Go make friends.” Begrudgingly Daisy walks off with Tori to be greeted by the crowd of other survivalists.

“So what’s the story with the girl?” Maria asks as soon as they’re alone in the infirmary.

“I’ll tell my story if you tell yours.” Melinda smirks as she shines a small flashlight into her eyes.

“Deal. You first.”

Melinda goes on telling the tale with provided commentary by Maria. By the time she finishes Maria has already assured her she has no concussion and has wrapped her bad ankle.

“So Phil’s really gone…” Maria sighs.

“He risked himself because he believed in all of this.” She nods.

“And this girl is the cure?”

“That’s what Andrew believes. She has to be taken to the lab.”

“Well there’s only one that I can think of. It’s not safe out there right now though Millie.”

“I thought I told you not to call me that.” Melinda scolds lightly.

“Yeah… Not happening.” She says. “I want you both to stay. You need to heal and from what I can tell that girl needs more training.”

“But the cure.”

“It can wait. We’ve waited this long.” Melinda sighs knowing she’s right. “Now let’s go show your girl that you’re okay before she crawls out of her skin.”

“You never told me your story.”

“Not much to tell,” Maria shrugs, “I met Victoria Hand when she saved my ass from Hydra two years ago. I chipped down her walls and she eventually agreed to marry me.” She smiles to herself and it causes a small pang in her chest. That could’ve been her and Phil if she hadn’t have been so stubborn.

“I’m happy for you.”

As they step out Daisy is already surrounded by a group of onlookers, all curious to this newcomer. One is a man, taller than them both with a muscular build. He stands out the most in a medical lab coat while the others are in either survivalist gear or their own outfits torn from misuse. The thought brings her eyes to a curly haired girl in a flower dress. It was stained with dirt and frayed at the edges but she somehow manages to keep an air of elegance. Next a pixie haired woman staring at them both with overwhelming curiosity. Finally the freckled man in the back comes to her attention. He’s staring at Daisy with skepticism and suspicion, arms crossed over his leather clad chest. She shook off the eery feeling the man gave her, eyes snapping back to Daisy once more. The girl had spotted her and rushes towards her with a smile. It was uncharacteristic for the gloomy girl who’d stayed by her side all this week. It was almost like Daisy could feel the same thing in the air here as she did.

It felt safe.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Close your eyes!” Daisy’s voice calls into the gym excitedly. She had been nearly twenty minutes late for training. Melinda had half a mind to go find her and another half to make today’s lesson excruciating. “I have a surprise.”

“A surprise that warrants being twenty minutes late?” Melinda quips but regardless she does as the girl says. They’d been here for seven months now. Melinda was familiar with the atmosphere and knew almost every name on base. They called this place the Hub and Victoria was in charge. You were divided into different sectors based on skill set. Lincoln, the man she’d met in the lab coat months ago, was the head of the medical sector. Raina is the head of communications. She was in charge of submissions into the Hub and Melinda was not exactly pleased with the four hour interrogation. Robbie, the man in leather, was their scavenger. He was one of few allowed to leave the base. Melinda hardly didn’t hear about the man as Daisy constantly gushed about his car Lucy. She had to admit it was a pretty impressive car.

“About that…” Melinda rolls her eyes but keeps them closed. She, herself, had been assigned to training. She trained multiple agents including Daisy and the curious eyed girl who’d revealed her name to be Piper. “Okay. Open.”

When Melinda opened her eyes Daisy was standing in front of her but something was different. Her hair was cut above her shoulders and much darker than before. Melinda couldn’t help but smirk slightly. The past few months here had been good for Daisy. Not being around death all the time and being able to act her age… Besides that she’d quickly become her best trainee, proficient in any gun Melinda handed her. She’d even managed to pin her a few times. Of course she’d been able to free herself just as quickly but she still counts it.

“You like it?”

“It looks great.” Melinda chuckles lightly. As much as she was begrudging to admit it, it brought a reality to her. She didn’t really need Melinda anymore and it was beginning to get to a time that she should leave.

“What’s that look?” Daisy frowns. A downside of all their time spent together, Daisy could now read her almost as well as Phil did.

“I think it’s time I leave.” Melinda says slowly.

“By time.” Daisy laughs. “I was beginning to wonder when we’d get on the go again. I know my training is important but I think I’m ready now.”

“No Daisy.” Melinda sighs. “Maria will take you to the lab. I’m leaving.”

Daisy steps back as if she’d just struck her. She might as well have… “You’re leaving me?”

“You don’t need me to take you to the lab and Maria is much better at handling what SHIELD has.”

“You’re kidding right?” Daisy scoffs. “You’ve got to be messing with me right now.”

“Daisy…”

“No!” She flinches back as she tries to reach for her. “You don’t get to just leave me!” She snaps.

“Da-”

“No.” Then she’s gone, running out as quickly as she’d come in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It’s nearly sunset when she finally finds her. Daisy had taken a horse and ridden it off base and into the woods. Melinda finds the mare tied to a porch outside of a house that is seemingly abandoned. She frowns as she walks inside, keeping her pistol drawn just in case. She finds her on the top floor in a room that looks like it belonged to a girl only a little younger than Daisy.

“Is this really all they had to worry about? If their skirt matches their top?” Daisy asks after she picks up on Melinda’s footsteps. She’s holding a journal up against her folded knees. Melinda can still see the tear tracks on her face.

“We need to talk.” Melinda frowns.

“What is there to talk about? You’re leaving me and I’m gonna become some kind of lab rat.” Daisy frowns stubbornly.

“Is that what you’re afraid of? Becoming a lab rat?” Melinda moves to sit across from her and stays after she doesn’t stop her. “You don’t have to do this.”

“You really don’t get it do you?” Daisy scoffs. “I’m going to the lab with or without you. You’re gonna leave me there just like everyone else.”

“Daisy…”

“First my parents sent me away to military camp then died while I was there, Elena died on me, then Andrew left, Phil, Mack, Fitzsimmons, and now you?” Daisy rolls her eyes burying her face in her legs when her tears betray her. “You’d think I’d be used to people leaving me by now.”

“Elena?”

“She was my best friend.” Daisy sighs. “We went to military school together when she disappeared. I didn’t see her for days. Then one day she’s at my window, telling me that I gotta come with her. It was the best night of my life. We went to an abandoned mall and stayed there all night. In the heat of the moment I’d told her I loved her. She kissed me.” Daisy smiles sadly,  “We had a hell of a time apparently because we drew attention of a hourde.” Her body shakes with the pain of the memory. “We were surrounded and she decided we’d go out together. It was supposed to be poetic I guess. Like Romeo and Juliet?” She shakes her head as more tears escape. “That was the day I found out I was immune.”

“Daisy…”

“So go ahead and leave. I don’t care.”

“I do.” Melinda frowns but it seems Daisy isn’t listening anymore. “I remember the start of the apocalypse… You weren’t even born yet.” This seems to catch Daisy’s attention enough but she continues anyways. “It was the day after my birthday and I got home late from work. Some girl had managed to hack into SHIELD’s database. Now this was SHIELD as an organization, not a rebellious movement.” She clarifies when Daisy opens her mouth to speak. “I found my daughter Bobbi waiting on the couch for me, asleep.” Melinda shakes her head when Daisy goes to speak again. “Not my biological daughter. I adopted her after I found her at a murder scene. Her parents had been killed.”

“Whoa…”

“That night there was a gas leak. Hundreds in the city became sick instantly. Had I stayed behind twenty minutes longer, I would have too.” Melinda sighs. “That night Maria picked us both up and we fled the city. Along the way I could see her best friend’s house up in flames. Hunter was a pain in the ass but he was good to Bobbi…” Melinda swallows heavily, “We got into a wreck when we reached the city. Bobbi broke her ankle and couldn’t walk so I had to carry her to the highway. Maria stayed behind to fight off people infected by the gas.” Melinda bites her lip staring out the window now. “That night Hydra found Bobbi and I hiking up to the highway… They found no use for us. So they shot.”

“No…”

“Bobbi died in my arms. Just like Fitz.” Melinda blinks away the tears now building. The only other person she dared talk to about this was Phil. Now it felt right though. “I would’ve died too if it hadn’t have been for Maria.”

“Shit May… I didn’t know. I-” A shot from the distance shatters the window showering the two of them in glass shards.

“Get to the roof!” Melinda shouts over the noise pulling Daisy off the bench. She passes her the sniper. “Go now!” Daisy nods running off.

Melinda scouts the house taking out the two inside easily. Pushing a dresser in front of the stairs, she sets up a barricade for Daisy at least. Melinda runs out into the yard finding four of them already dead. Melinda shoots two hiding in a bush near their horses. A man takes a shot knocking one of the horses to the ground dead. Melinda curses under her breath but Daisy’s already got the man covered. A woman daringly charges Melinda tackling her to the ground. Melinda flips them with ease knocking the woman out with three punches to the temple. A final shot rings through the air taking out the man who’d lingered behind her.

Melinda peers up through the darkness at Daisy. Even in the dim light shining from the moon she can see Daisy’s beaming smile. She waves her down after another round of checking indicating that it’s safe.

“Let’s get you to that lab.” Melinda smiles patting Daisy on the shoulder as a sign of how proud she is.

“So you’re staying with me?”

“Yeah. I’m staying.”