#jumping from a 6+ story building into water...

[clonerightsagenda]

I forgot to put this in my liveblog but I didn't complain that Lockwood survived getting shot and falling 30 feet onto solid rock because the books were very clear that all those kids were immune to fall damage.

[irisinluv]

Yandere x Time Traveler Reader

You could recite the rules by memory if you had to. You were read them before each and every time jump. The most important being- don’t do anything to alter the course of history, don’t let anyone know about time travel, and don’t stay longer than necessary. There’s a slew of other minute details to the rule book, time traveling is a delicate business after all. But you love your job, and you understand how important your work is. You see, history records are often sloppy. We do our best to put things together with old newspapers, books, and the occasional photo, but what if you could go back and meticulously record everything the exact way it was?

Well, historians realized they could utilize time travel to observe and document historic events and time periods. That’s where you come in. You are a field agent- dressed in time appropriate clothes, practiced in period accurate slang and culture, armed with a backstory, and ready to jump back in time to learn the things time has forgot.

You’ve done countless runs before, and this one is no different. Go in. Learn everything you can, and then get the hell out. You don’t stay more than a week, and whatever you do, you stick to your company drafted backstory if anyone ask. So, with this in mind, you wave to your team, and step back in time.

The 1920s proved to be more colorful than you’d imagined. Sure you knew not everything was in black and white… but you expected things to be a bit more drab. The streets were busy with old timey cars in each of the primary colors, women bustled down the streets in loose, boxy dresses with gorgeous patterns. You took note that maybe the 20s were onto something when you noticed the high waisted pants all the men seemed to be wearing. You’d certainly be recommending these slutty little numbers make a comeback.

Taking in all these details, you took a moment to enjoy being a tourist in a new time. This was your favorite part of the job- constantly exploring. You loved the freedom you had. Granted you had your rules, but you could go anywhere. Any time. It was fantastic. Ducking into a cafe, you took a second to inspect the menu before ordering, and taking a seat at a booth. You began people watching as you sipped your drink, taking mental notes of everything and anything that you could jot down later. Suddenly, you’re interrupted from your observations as someone slid into the seat across from you in the booth.

Sawyer saw you order and sit down, and was fascinated by you. You carried yourself differently than anyone he’d seen before, with a natural ease and confidence, yet he could see your eyes assessing everything around you with a slight hint of wonder that made him wonder what those eyes would say if they looked his way. After observing you for several minutes, Sawyer made his move.

You couldn’t help but feel comfortable about the man who slid into your booth and started chatting with you. It wasn’t against the rules to talk with people like this- it was often crucial in fact. As long as you didn’t do anything drastic like save or end their life, convince them of some major course of action, etc…. It often paid to have a friend in an unfamiliar time. So when Sawyer asked you if you had plans this evening…. You had told him you were free.

Now it’s a quarter to 6 and he’s picking you up at the hotel you’d arranged earlier in the day. You had a change of clothes already packed for the occasion, and were buzzing to see inside a real speakeasy during prohibition. Sawyer was prompt in picking you up, and it was only a short walk to a back door of a building. He was ushered inside and soon the two of you were sitting together, leaning close to speak as you sipped (rather horrible) watered down drinks.

You kept to your story- you were traveling from the countryside, and would be in town for the next week. Sawyer noticed, however, how much you steered the conversation away from yourself. You did so skillfully and he had to admire that, but you were secretive none the less. Of course, this only served to further fascinate the man. What was originally just a little crush began to turn into a burning need to know more. What were those calculating eyes of yours thinking? Why did you take everything in with such wonder, like you were committing every detail to memory? He had to know.

For the next several days, Sawyer acted as your guide through the city, showing you clubs and shows and the best places to eat. You found yourself genuinely enjoying his company, and it wasn’t hard to tell he greatly enjoyed yours- showing up first thing each morning to escort you on another adventure. You realized you needed to begin distancing yourself from him, however, as he was pressing you for more details about yourself, and was expertly dodging your attempts at redirection. So, with only a few days left before you had to return, you switched hotels. Went to a different part of town, and began looking into the affairs of a few businesses. You needed to round out your research more anyways.

Sawyer arrived at his usual time, only to find you gone. The hotel attendant explained you’d checked out early, and left no explanation. Sawyers heart stopped. You were the love of his life. He knows it’s sudden, and stupid, he hardly knows you…. But at the same time he feels like he knows you better than anyone else alive. In the few days you’d spent together he’d taken in every little detail about you. He could tell when you were excited or disgusted just by the way your nose twitched. He knew your food preferences, knew how to make you laugh, and just felt like he knew you on a soul deep level…. But you were gone. You’d left him….

You were taking note of the stock in a grocery store a few days later when Sawyer finally saw you. He didn’t approach, instead, followed you back to your hotel. He watched you through a sliver in the curtains as you pulled out a pad of paper and began writing. He watched until you fell asleep, and then slowly crept in through the window. He gently picked up the notepad, only to furrow his brows, confused. You were…. Taking note of the style of labels on soup cans, and the price stickers used? He looked around the room and saw a few other note pads, gently placing the one he’d grabbed back next to your sleeping form, he began snooping through the rest of your notes. You had pages and pages written about what you’d observed, meticulous notes littered with your own commentary and thoughts. And that’s when Sawyer realized the truth. He didn’t have all the details- but he knew you were from the future. You were from the future, and you’d be leaving him in less than 24 hours.

He knew he had to act. He found the small device you would use to return home- it was disguised as a watch, and tucked away inside one of your luggage bags. Holding the small object in his hand, he came up with a plan. Shooting one last look to your sleeping form, he made sure everything was as you left it, aside from your watch, which he slipped in his pocket, and then crept back outside.

The next day, you hustled to finish investigating the last few things your colleagues were interested in. You were walking down the road when you heard a familiar voice call out. Closing your eyes and letting out a soft curse, you turned to see Sawyer racing towards you with a grin.

“Hey! There you are! When they told me you’d checked out a few days ago I’d assumed you left! Glad I found you though! Did you lose a watch by any chance? I found it in the pocket of that coat you borrowed after the theater, it’s small and gold with some swirling patterns carved into it?”

Your eyes widened…. That was your ticket home. How the hell did you not notice it was gone?? You thank him profusely for finding it, and tell him that yes, it’s yours! He clarifies,

“It’s back at my place, I didn’t think I’d run into you so I wasn’t carrying with me. If you’d like, you can swing by my house with me and pick it up?”

Of course you readily agree- after all, you need to leave in a few hours, and seeing inside his house would be great for your research. So, you agree to go home with him. I mean you only had a few hours left. Saying goodbye for real this time wouldn’t hurt.

Sawyers breath catches as you step inside his house. Why does this seem so natural? So perfect? You, fingers lightly tracing the wood banister as you take it all it. You, turning to look where he stands in the entryway - God, he can imagine coming home from work, with you greeting him with a smile just like this. The only thing missing is a kiss. He blinks out of it as he realizes you’re asking about your watch.

“Oh, yes, of course! It’s just down here, follow me!”

He leads you downstairs to a partially finished basement. Partially finished is a loose term. It’s a usable area at least, a workbench in once corner, and minimal boxes cluttering the space. Instead, it’s relatively clean, there’s a few chairs and a couch set up. Far from a living space, but it’s certainly functional. You’re taking all this in when suddenly you’re pulled back wards, stumbling into a chair. Ropes are wound around your midsection, pinning your arms and torso to a chair. You cry out and squirm but he’s surprisingly fast and strong,wrangling your kicking feet until they’re tied to the chair legs. Soon, you’re securely bound to the chair, and he didn’t even have to knock you out. He finds it kind of adorable how easily he overpowered you if he’s being honest.

You cry out and ask him what he’s doing, demand he lets you go! But he only produces your watch from his pocket, and stares at it with curious eyes.

“So, this little thing is your ticket back, hm? I wonder what it’s like- your world. Your time….”

Your eyes grow wide. He knows. He knows you’re not from this time period. That’s breaking one of the most important rules. This in itself could have irreparable consequences to the course of history… what if he decides to use it? Decides to travel through time, un-trained, causing chaos!?

“Please! You have no idea the consequences this will have! You can’t use it! Please- there’s a way things have to be done, you could permanently alter the course of human history with the littlest misstep! The future depends on you letting me go and giving me that watch back!”

He steps closer to you and gently strokes your cheek, realizing you don’t get it. You think you’re tied up because he’s interested in the time traveling. You think he’s going to misuse it. Silly you. He’s not interested in traveling through time.

“Darling… come now. There’s no need to worry. I’m not going to use your watch.”

Your gaze turns confused as you look up at him, and he adores watching your eyes as you try to puzzle your way through this one. He takes pity on you and leans forward to press a kiss to your lips.

And then you watch as he drops and crushes your way home beneath his boot.

“The only future I’m interested in…. Is ours.”

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 8

Hey guys!! We have reached the actual training part of the story. It's only taken us (looks up at the number in the title) oh about seven chapters. If I get anything wrong, send me a DM or an ask and I'll be happy to change it. No comments please. Thank you!

In this Eddie is a show off, Robin is a good best friend and Steve finds Eddie really hot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

~

Eddie is led to a small room off the side of the two large pools. He had never been in here before, Murray preferring to clean it himself because it was so tricky and Eddie wasn’t going to be there long enough to need to know it.

He looked around. It was the same sea green and blue everything in the pool area was. And in the middle there was 8x15 ft. rectangle that had a large metal cover.

Steve went over to the wall and pressed a button. The metal cover slid off to reveal a pool about five feet deep. It really didn’t look that special.

Then Steve pressed another button and pool roared to life. Gone was the smooth surface, replaced by now churning waves. He hit the button again and waves sped up. And again and again. Eddie was entranced. Then the waves cut off and slowly the water stilled.

“Holy shit!” Eddie cried. “That was fucking cool!” He knelt by the pool and then swung his feet in. “So how does it work?”

“Show off,” Robin huffed at Steve and pulled up a chair next to the pool. “Just pretend I’m not here. I have to watch you guys because I’m the assistant coach or whatever, but Steve doesn’t need my help here. Not really.”

Steve came over and sat next to him, splashing his feet a little. “Basically there are jets that cause a current that you can swim against. The different speeds allow you to set how much you want to swim against. It’s really good for building endurance and stamina.”

He slipped all the way into the pool. “Why don’t you turn it on to three and I’ll show you?”

Eddie jumped up to just that, excited to see Steve swim for the first time in person. Robin got up to show him how to work it and then sat back down, pulling a book out of the pocket of the jacket she wore over her swimsuit.

He slowly turned the dial, watching as the water came up to speed. Then Steve started swimming. And immediately Eddie could see the difference in how Steve moved through the water than from how he did it.

He licked his lips as he watched this beautiful man slice the water like an otter. He wasn’t sure how long time passed, but far too soon, Steve was standing up and wiping the water from his face.

“Turn it to one,” Steve said, “and then come on in. I’m betting you’ll need it sped up but let’s ease you into it.”

Eddie went to go do as he was told and the eased himself into the pool next to Steve.

“All right,” Steve said, “just start swimming.”

“Just keep swimming,” Eddie sang and then did the little hum. He dived into the water and started swimming.

“I’m going to touch you,” Steve warned, “to help correct your stroke. I don’t want to startle you.”

Eddie tried not to tense up when Steve straightened his stomach, but it was hard. But thankfully Steve just chuckled.

“Ticklish,” he teased. “Good to know.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, grateful Steve couldn’t see his face. That was not why he tensed up. Was he ticklish? That was debatable. His friends and Uncle said yes, he absolutely was not. He just was sensitive. Which also wasn’t what the issue was here.

No, no, no. It was that hot guy, gold medalist, and absolute sweetheart Steve Harrington was touching him and his black Speedo left very little to the imagination. A boner would be more than an inconvenience, it would be a fucking nightmare.

But thankfully his brain had other things to focus on, like how by just adjusting his core, his strokes were stronger but took less energy.

“We won’t focus on types of strokes yet,” Steve was saying when his brain finally came back online, “just on building up your strength. Then after that we’ll see where your abilities lie. What events to you compete in in middle school?”

Eddie turned on his back and immediately kept swimming. He turned his head and winked at Steve.

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Show off!” he teased.

Robin snorted from the sideline and he stuck his tongue out at her.

“You have really good form for the backstroke,” he said turning back to Eddie, “and I’m going to assume that’s because your middle school coach only taught you how to do one thing well, instead of teaching you everything and then letting your natural talent decide where you fit best.”

Eddie got to his feet with ease as it wasn’t going that fast and wiped his face down. “You’ve got that right. But then he was dealing with twenty kids all screaming at him, so I really don’t blame him on that one.”

“Fair enough,” Steve said ruefully with wry smile. “At least you didn’t have two coaches butting heads all the time on what was the best technique, so...”

“Wait, really?” Eddie said, stopping from ringing out his hair in shock. “You had two coaches?”

Steve hummed. “Yeah. Technically three if you include middle and high school coaches but only two at a time. My private coach that my dad had me see when I was twelve and then my school coaches. They never could agree on what the best form was. So I made up my own. I did what felt right for my body. Both my high school coach and private coach tried to take credit for my gold medal by the way.”

Eddie resumed ringing out his hair. “Yeah, that tracks. So you graduate high school and prepare to take the swimming world by storm and then tragedy strikes, I bet they were positively sobbing for the cameras.”

Steve’s smile was bitter. “Right in one.”

“Everyone kept talking like he was dead,” Robin growled, “and not just that he had gotten hurt. I would’ve sued their asses, but Steve is nicer than me.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged. “I didn’t need the money and I certainly didn’t want the attention.”

“Yeah, okay that’s fair,” Eddie replied with a smile.

They keep working on Eddie’s stamina, slowly building up the speed of the pool, the more he swam the more strength he showed.

Steve looked up at the clock. “Well shit, we actually ran past time. So let’s hit the showers and get all this chlorine off of us.”

Eddie nodded and followed him to the dressing room, once they were all dressed and cleaned up they ran into a grinning Joyce. She had two boxes in her hands.

“One for each of you,” she said brightly, handing them their packages.

Steve and Eddie shared a glance but dug into their boxes. Steve managed to get his open first. He lifted the top item. It was a blue polo. He handed the box to Robin to hold so he could unfold it.

There in black thread lined with silver embroidered on the back was the name Harrington. His coach’s polo.

“There are four polos and a coaches jacket,” Joyce explained. “Every ‘team’ has a set of colors to compete under. Team Harrington will be black and silver.”

Eddie finally managed to get his box open while Joyce talked. Inside his box were four caps and Speedos, as well as two pairs of goggles. He picked up one of the caps and in silver was his last name Munson in bold letters.

“The program covers all equipment, too,” Joyce said with sly smile. “You lose anything or want something different, let me know we’ll get it for you. At first it might take a bit, but if you start winning...”

Eddie huffed, “Then suddenly all the doors open and the sponsors start piling in. I getcha.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Joyce said.

“I got my own coaching polos too!” Robin said excitedly. “I didn’t get a fancy jacket though.” She pouted.

Joyce laughed. “When you be come head coach then you’ll get the shiny coach’s jacket.”

Robin still pouted but she was ignored. Steve and Eddie both thanked her for the gifts.

“It’s nothing,” she said, waving her hand. “I’m just glad they were able to come today, I was worried it might not get here until next week.”

They all bid her goodbye and walked out to the parking lot, where there were only two cars now. Steve’s rust red Bimmer and Eddie’s van. It looked older than he was. But he could tell Eddie was proud of it as he sauntered up to it.

“Other than than the jerkfaces,” Eddie said, opening the door to his van and jumping up on the step to swing on the door, “today was a good day. I feel really stretched out in a good way.”

Steve laughed. “Well I’m glad the gaggle of snobs didn’t turn you off. You’re already three steps ahead of the game as far as coaching you goes. You have good habits and better form. It won’t take long for you to get into competition shape.”

Eddie nodded, swinging back and forth on the door, like Gene Kelly in ‘Singing in the Rain’. “But the Olympics, man? That’s top tier shit.”

“From what I saw today,” Robin said, “yeah, real top tier shit. Because Steve is right. You got dealt a shit hand when you were forced to stop swimming, because you should already have been to the Olympics if there had been any justice in this world. But it is really stacked against poor people.”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed. “I guess I’ll be seeing you guys again tomorrow?” He hopped back down to ground, scuffing his shoes on the asphalt.

“Yep,” Steve said with a smile. “Same time. This time Max will be joining us. She’s only going to be doing it two times a week. It’s all her mother will allow.”

Robin shook her head. “Girl’s got real talent and her mother thinks she’s too young to apply herself. I’m glad my parents weren’t like that.”

Steve reached over and gave her elbow a gentle squeeze. “Maybe once her mom sees how good she is, she’ll allow her to do more. But Max has time. She’s only eleven.”

Eddie nodded, rocking back on his heels and then forward on his toes. He chewed his lip for a moment before he launched himself at Steve, giving him a big hug. “Thank you!”

Steve staggered back a moment before wrapping his arms around Eddie. “You’re welcome. Everyone needs someone who believes in them.”

Then Eddie launched himself at Robin who was almost knocked over. She hugged him back, then he scurried back to his van. He gave them a shy goodbye before he drove off.

“He’s cute.”

Steve whirled on her with a shocked expression on his face. “Robin!”

Robin shrugged and started walking to Steve’s car, forcing him to jog to catch up.

“You can’t just say things like that,” he admonished, unlocking his car with the keycode on the door. “We’re his coaches now. Besides, I’m like six years older than he is. God!”

She laughed as she got into her side of the car. “I didn’t say you had to date him, dingus. I just said he was cute. You filled in the rest.”

Steve huffed as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Yeah, okay. I’ll admit that I find him very attractive, especially with all the tattoos. Dealing drugs must be pretty lucrative or else he’s got a sweet deal with a tattoo artist, because damn, he has a lot. At least four that I’ve seen and I think I saw the glimpse of another and I–”

Robin burst out laughing. “And you really, really liked it?”

Steve sighed and bowed his head. “I really did. I don’t think I liked tattoos on people before this point and now I’m drooling about it.”

Robin just patted his shoulder. “Just suck it up and drive.”

So Steve did just that, shaking his head.

~

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @eriquin @tartarusknight @gloomysoup @morallyundefined

[ace-of-zaun]

Pas de Deux Pt. 10: 

Silco x f!reader, 4.6k words, NSFW(ish)

cw: (please see chapter 1 for full series warnings) angst, fluff, sexual tension, references to masturbation and sex

also, the story rating is going up to explicit from here on out, but i’ll keep including individual chapter warnings so you can decide if that’s your vibe or not :)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9

It really shouldn’t be a surprise when Silco reverts to his overprotective ways after the Jinx incident, where you’d been tied to your bed and interrogated by his surrogate daughter. And having been followed by the bar incident, in which you’d been held hostage in the middle of The Drop with a broken bottle to your neck, it's no wonder he’s acting like you’re a porcelain doll. 

But you’d grown so used to even just that sliver of freedom, the speed in which he’d torn it from your grasp quite honestly stings. 

Oddly enough, the thing that hurts more is that after the harsh reprimanding he’d given his staff for letting someone get to you, practically nobody but Silco will make eye contact with you anymore. It’s not like you’re allowed to go anywhere by yourself, but you’re pretty sure that if you were to wave a flag and scream in Thieram’s face, he wouldn’t even look you in the eyes. 

So, alone again. 

Again. 

Well, alone except for Silco, who not only won’t let you go down into the bar by yourself, but also insists on having you escorted to and from his office, and even to your studio. What’s worse, he’s reverted to wanting you by his side all hours of the day and most of the evening, as if you’ll slip through his fingers the very moment you’re out of his sight. 

Of course, protesting is no use. 

The times you’d asked why you needed a babysitter all day everyday, and why you couldn’t just go back to the one guard instead of a ridiculous three, his dismissive, drawling responses of, “I cannot take any precautions with your safety, you are too important to me,” and, "I need to protect you, my lovely," had awakened a deep urge to scream until your throat burned out.

You never do scream, of course. And since you categorically refuse to plead with him, after only three days of letting him shepherd you around, you resort to the only method that will get through to such a petty soul.

Sulking. 

So, as you sit on your bed, arms crossed petulantly, you futilely contemplate the odds of being able to smash the window, jump to the nearest rooftop, and just run until you reach people that have never even heard of Zaun, all without being noticed.

The newest guard, who’d made the mistake of infuriating you when he’d looked over your shoulder instead of at your face like a decent human being, had tried to escort you to Silco’s office, to which you’d responded rather emphatically, “Tell Silco I’d rather gargle water from the River Pilt and spit it in his face.”

By the time Silco arrives at your still-open bedroom door, a brief glance at the worried look etched upon his face indicates that the guard may have told him something slightly different. 

“Are you not feeling well, darling?” Silco asks, lithe fingers curling around the wooden frame. 

“I'm fine,” is your short response. You continue to stare blankly at the empty space of wall above your dresser.

“Why don’t we go to my office? Lunch should be ready soon,” he tries again, far more patient than you’d ever expected a crime lord could be. 

“I'm not hungry.”

“Sweetheart,” he breathes out in a tone that’s so soft, you practically feel your heart clench at the unfairness of it all. 

“Just put it on a tray and slide it through the door,” you bite out, building your walls even higher with every sarcastic word. “May as well, since you insist on treating me like a prisoner.”

Across the room, the door shuts with a loud, forceful click, and your head whips over to it, alarms instinctually raised. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him stiffly leaning back against the closed door, his expression unreadable and hands clenched behind him. A part of you automatically panics that he’s going to get mad and turn this against you. But his promise rings in the back of your mind. 

“You truly think of yourself as a prisoner?” he asks, voice tender but thankfully filled more with frustration than anger. 

You sigh, immediately backtracking. 

Perhaps you were too harsh. He’s only trying to help. 

Elbows digging into your thighs, you allow your head to drop into your hands in defeat. 

“I just feel like you don’t trust me, Sil,” you tell him. (He shouldn’t, but that’s besides the point.)

Silco traipses over to you, carefully kneeling down between your legs as one hand links with yours, the other resting soothingly on the top of your thigh. Now face to face, he searches your expression. 

“Why won’t you let me do anything by myself?” you continue before he can suggest anything that will make you want to knee him in the stomach. "I don't understand what I've done wrong."

"You haven't done anything wrong, my love," he says, the fingers on your thigh squeezing gently. 

“Then why won’t you let me do anything anymore?”

You’re toeing the line of pleading, but won’t allow yourself to cross it. Not this time. 

He sighs and shuffles closer, strong arms wrapping around your waist until you can rest your forehead on his shoulder, a dance that almost feels natural at this point. 

“To keep you s-”

You cut him off by digging your nails into his lower back. 

“Silco. If you tell me one more time that you’re doing it to keep me safe, I’m going to spray perfume in your eye while you’re sleeping.”

He huffs a breath of air, pulling back ever so slightly to peer at you down his nose. His expression is entirely too cheeky and it makes you wonder just what ridiculous thought he’s entertaining.

“Your perfume or mine?” he asks playfully. 

You glare at him, clearly unamused by his antics, so he decides to clarify with a languid sweep of his hand up and down your spine. 

“I wouldn’t necessarily object to being reminded of your gorgeous scent every once in a while, even if it may bring some slight discomfort.”

The rolling of your eyes is accompanied by a muttering of freak under your breath, which only serves to bring out that crooked grin of his, much to your dismay. 

Silco reaches up to tuck a stray section of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers rest delicately on your cheek as he looks into your eyes, expression suddenly grave. 

“I’m afraid I cannot let you wander about by yourself, my love, not after you were put in such an egregious amount of danger,” he tells you solemnly.

You have to physically hold in the bark of laughter that threatens to erupt from you. 

Egregious amount of danger? Did he even grow up in the same Zaun as you? 

It’s probably not the best course of action, but you can’t help your response. 

“Then, I’m afraid I can’t join you for lunch or dinner anymore,” you bite back, a little bit childishly if you’re being truly honest with yourself. 

Right on cue, Silco’s good eye narrows, his lip twitching in indignation as his hand drops once more to your thigh. 

“Darling, do you not think you’re being a tad unreasonable?” he asks, clearly trying to keep a lid on it. “Can I really be blamed for wanting to keep the ones I love close to me?”

You practically blanch at the gall. 

“I’m being unreasonable?” you gape at him. “You’re the one who’s trying to keep me locked up forever!”

“I am not trying to lock you up,” he snipes back before huffing out a sigh, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “All of this is for you, my darling. I brought you home from that wretched city and its people. I commissioned you a custom-built studio. I have spent hours upon hours ensuring your safety.”

You really could scream now. You never asked him to do any of this, never wanted this. 

Recognising that you’re about three seconds away from completely exploding, you try to remove yourself from the situation before you do something you’ll regret. 

“I’m not doing this-”

You push on his shoulders lightly, attempting to shuffle yourself backwards on the bed and decidedly away from him. 

Unfortunately, Silco tries to stop you.

“Sweetheart-”

One hand darts around to the small of your back whilst the other hooks underneath your knee, and in one smooth move, he pulls you towards him until you’re flush against him.

And your body floods with heat completely against your will, partly in awe of the pure strength needed to manoeuvre you so effortlessly, and partly because in doing so, the angle and position has pressed his broad chest and waistcoat buttons up against the most sensitive part of you. 

You jolt in surprise, a stuttered gasp escaping your mouth as your brain suddenly conjures the sordid image of your legs wrapped around his sinful waist, the look of shock he’s currently sporting twisted in your brain to fit an expression of pure ecstasy. 

And just as soon as it happened, it’s over. 

Silco immediately lets go, allowing you to shuffle back on the bed, but only far enough that you can hug your knees to your chest, as if it would hide your now racing heart and burning cheeks. 

“I-”

You cut him off before he can voice even one more word. You do not want to discuss it (and you’re already blaming it on the raised adrenaline levels from your argument).

“You said you want to keep your loved ones close to you but you let Jinx go wherever she wants.”

Luckily, Silco also appears to be amenable to moving on without acknowledging what just happened.

“Jinx grew up here, sweetheart,” he says after swallowing hard, hiding his unease about as well as you probably are. “She can handle herself.”

Well, you can’t really argue that point without revealing yourself to him, so you’re forced to accept defeat on that line of defence. 

A wave of exhaustion sweeps through you, legs dropping into a cross whilst your forehead drops into the hand propped up against your knee. 

It’s only in the silence that you realise just how heavily you’re both breathing. A cursory glance at the man still kneeling in front of you reveals just how torn he looks, and for some reason, it puts you on the verge of frustrated tears.

He clearly wants to comfort you. 

Slowly, a hand reaches out to rest gingerly against your knee, giving you plenty of time to reject him if you wanted to.

You don’t. 

In fact, against all better judgement, you press his hand firmer against your knee with your own fingers just to show him that it’s okay. 

“I know you don’t trust me,” you repeat softly.

And if he didn’t look heartbroken before, now, it’s practically radiating from him. 

“It’s not you that I lack trust in, darling, it’s everyone else.”

You sigh, flexing your fingers over the top of his. 

“I want to be more for you, Silco. But I just can’t like this. Not when I feel like a bird trapped in a cage,” you say with as much sincerity as you can muster. 

That seems to do the trick, his hand flipping over to entwine his fingers with yours as the other reaches to absentmindedly tug your shirt collar back into place. 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to keep the security for now, but I will… endeavour to find safe ways to help you feel less restricted,” Silco says gracefully. 

You try not to focus on the fact that you’re a million steps back and try to focus on the single step forward. As if this dance couldn’t get any more complicated. 

You achieved partial freedom before, you can get it again. 

“That would make me feel a lot better,” you say, hoping you sound grateful as you shakily climb onto your knees on the mattress. “Thank you.”

Arms encircling him, you feel the moment Silco relaxes in your hold, and you hate how much relief it brings you.

It’s quiet for a moment, the two of you lost in thought while Silco traces patterns on your back until he speaks over your shoulder, asking if you want to accompany him on one of his factory rounds, to see his ‘empire’.

Of course, there’s a list of rules and considerations he insists that he must put in place before you go, but in truth, you barely pay attention to it when you nod your assent. 

All you can think is that maybe there can be some compromise in this fucked-up situation you’ve found yourself in. Maybe this doesn’t have to be all bad. 

-

Almost a full week later, after Silco had meticulously planned out every single detail regarding this trip, you’re finally en route to the factory he’d chosen for your visit. 

Of course, one of the stipulations you’d agreed to whilst blissfully tuned out during Silco’s monologue was that you’d wear a face mask on your trip with him to the factory, one that obscured most of your features.

To protect you from the fumes, he’d said…

His levels of delusion are genuinely astounding at this point. Honestly, you should write a book about him, the real him. You could probably fix Zaun’s economy solely with descriptions of his insanity. 

You’re still fiddling with the edges of the mask by the time the carriage arrives at the large building, drawing to a stop in the darkened alleyway. 

Silco immediately exits the car without a word, and it’s his hand that is waiting to help you out and to swiftly escort you into the monstrosity that is one of his many Shimmer factories. 

At first, you’re not entirely sure how you feel about it all. 

Obviously, the conditions aren’t great. It’s hot, and noisy, and all the oversized pipes, vats, and crates filled with vials of Shimmer make the whole place feel far more cramped than it probably is. It’s like walking into the belly of the beast. 

But then again, you’d struggle to find a job in Zaun that was luxurious or even particularly nice, for that matter.

Silco meanders across the main floor with your hand tucked closely into the crook of his elbow, overseeing the nervous workers who scuttle about completing their jobs, all whilst trying to avoid eye contact with their stoic employer. 

Honestly, you’re unsure why he even suggested bringing you here, given that there’s nothing to really look at and you’re pretty sure half of his working policies aren’t even legal. 

That is, you’re unsure up until he begins yet another monologue. Except this time, you find yourself oddly captivated by his words.

He tells you in low, dulcet tones of his humble beginnings; how he started with nothing, much like the majority of Zaunites. He briefly describes the time he nearly lost his life as a young adult which prompted him to build all of this. How he plans to bring Zaun the independence and prosperity its people deserve, have always deserved. 

And by the time he’s finished speaking and has stopped for a moment to check in with one of the floor managers, you can’t help but stare at him, watching each careful movement and microexpression. 

Here is a man who’d had almost virtually the same start as you, who’d used every last shred of his resources to build himself an empire, all with the goal of elevating his city. 

Of seeking justice.

Silco returns to you after only a few minutes, where you instinctively reach to take hold of his arm again as he continues to walk. You let him lead. 

“Who will they think I am?” you ask when he offers you nothing more than a curious glance, nodding to the workers who keep shooting anxious glances at the both of you as you pass by. 

They definitely can’t see your face with the mask, but by your proximity to their boss, they must presume you’re somebody important.

“I suspect they’ll think you’re a potential business partner,” Silco responds diplomatically. To anyone else, he would appear just as impassive as ever. But you’re able to spot the twitch in his lips that tells you he’s holding back a smirk. 

You huff a short, sharp breath of air in amusement. 

“Do you have many of those?”

He finally comes to a stop at the bottom of a metal, spiral staircase, turning his head to glance down at you as he purses his lips. 

“None as beautiful as you.”

The roll of your eyes is thankfully covered by the mask. 

Now out of view from prying eyes, Silco delivers that smug little smirk he’s been holding back, almost as if he already knows your reaction, before elegantly gesturing with one sweep of his hand to allow you to climb the stairs before him.

And as you climb up and away from the toils of labour, you allow yourself to run away with the idea. 

If you’d met Silco in another life, one where’d you’d never conned your way into a privileged, Piltovian home, perhaps you could have worked your way into owning a large, successful business in Zaun. One that would have brought you into Silco’s world in an entirely different way.

You might’ve even been his equal, a chem-baron with almost as much power as the megalomaniac behind you. 

It’s this thought that inches you one step closer to the dangerous line you’ve been toeing, increases the pressure by just a notch. 

“I don’t think I’m entirely convinced that I should invest in this so-called business of yours anyway, Mr. Eye of Zaun,” you say coquettishly, adopting the air of an entrepreneur with unwavering confidence. 

“Well, that won’t do at all,” Silco drawls, clearly amused enough to entertain your antics. “What must I do to convince you otherwise?”

Perhaps it’s the fact that you’re not facing him that propels you to push it just that little bit further, just a little bit flirtier. 

“I can think of a few things.”

“Oh?” he intones, almost innocently. “Perhaps you’d like to share your thoughts so I can… accommodate.”

The heat that’s rapidly spreading through you must be from the factory machines, the cramped conditions. It must be. 

Reaching the top of the stairs, you find a darkened corridor lined with what must be office doors and for some gods-forsaken reason, it sends a thrill down your spine. 

Turning to face him, you walk backwards a few steps, letting him catch up to you in that slow, smooth saunter. And without thinking, you reach up to undo your mask, letting it drop to the ground as you take in Silco’s heated gaze, catching the way the pupil of his seafoam eye dilates in hunger. 

You allow him to come to a stop in front of you, but he doesn’t stray any farther. He seems hesitant, almost like he’s waiting for your next move, so you carefully loop your arms up and around him, forearms resting on his shoulders, hands clasped at his nape. 

“Hmm, in that case,” you tilt your head to the side, a tap to his shoulder blade with every demand. “I’ll take your crown, and your throne, and all your precious little treasures.” 

Then, you can’t help but lean forward ever so slightly, looking directly into those devastating eyes as you whisper.

“I want it all.”

It’s like watching an eclipse, the rapid darkening of his gaze an abyss, as the hands you’ve watched choke out a man come to rest oh so lightly against your waist. 

“And what would you give in exchange?” Silco asks with a rough swallow. The bob of his throat is simply captivating. 

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” he bites back, low growl a dichotomy to the gentle fingers tracing your sides. 

“Do I?”

Your attempt at coyness is met with a spine-tingling amount of conviction. Like he’s never been so sure of anything in his life. 

“I want you.”

Your legs guide him to slowly walk you backwards until your back hits the wood of the door behind you, your arms still looped around him whilst Silco’s hover nervously above your hips. 

He stares down at them, almost as if he desperately wants to but something is holding him back. 

His eyes dart up to yours in a brief look of trepidation, a question in his pointed gaze. So you nod once and resolutely ignore the voice screaming at you to just wait a minute, to stop playing with fire for just one moment. 

Silco’s hands finally press into your hips sending a jolt of fire racing up your spine. He stands between your spread legs, revelling in the proximity. 

“How much?” you ask. Silco only tilts his head in response, eyes distracted by the grip he has on your hips, so you grace him with clarification. “How much do you want me?”

That catches his attention, gaze snapping up to meet yours. 

And gods, you’re suddenly in need of air when Silco finally closes the distance, slowly leaning down to deliver his gravelly response directly against the shell of your ear.

“More than the body needs blood.”

Your hands instinctively reach up to thread into his hair, and Silco hips pitch forward into your own, a gasp escaping your lips at the joint sensation of his warm breath on your neck and the feeling of his arousal pressed firmly up against you. 

“Silco.”

“That’s sir to you,” he commands, scarred lips trailing down your jaw until they finally rest against your neck, pulse beating double time. 

Fuck, why can’t you think? Why can you only focus on the feeling of him pressed up against you?

“Yes, sir,” you repeat, forcing yourself to take a deep breath, in and out. 

He chuckles darkly against your skin as long fingers begin to slowly trail down your body, the other hand briefly snaking up into your hair, as if he just wanted to give it a short tug, just to see what it feels like.

You shiver bodily when that same hand travels back down to cup your jaw, his nose falling into place alongside yours, impossibly close now. 

Silco’s lips hover tantalisingly above yours, barely grazing them as he begins to speak again, tone low and rough. 

“Good g-”

He’s interrupted by an indignant voice from a little ways down the hall. 

“Excuse me.”

It’s like being startled awake - ripped from a dream - the way your body freezes in shock. 

Your hands drop to your sides as Silco inhales deeply, placing one hand flat against the wall next to your head. 

Slowly, he turns to look over his shoulder with a deadly precision and you watch as the worker’s blood drains from his body. It must be his office door that you’re currently blocking and in the darkened corridor, he must not have recognised the back of his boss�� head. 

For a brief moment you worry that Silco is going to literally drain the blood from his body right in front of you, but to your relief, he simply issues a sharp, cold command.

“Go. Away.”

The poor man practically scrambles away without another word, his footsteps tapping back down the metal stairs at a, frankly, quite alarming pace. 

Alone once more, Silco twists back around to face you, seemingly content to continue where you’d left off if his fervid expression is anything to go by. 

But you gently stop him with a hand splayed on his chest. 

The moment is broken, and there’s one thought ringing through your brain over and over again - what the actual fuck are you doing?

“We should get back home,” you tell him, watching as disappointment floods his features. “The fumes are giving me a bit of a headache.”

He pauses, just for a moment, as if he’s considering a counter-argument, but instead he just nods, accepting your lie at face value. 

“Alright, my love,” he says, carefully taking your hand in his and pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles, not entirely dissimilar to the way he did when you were first brought to his office, all that time ago. 

Then, Silco wordlessly leads you through the winding maze of the factory and out to the carriage, where you begin the journey back home, the silence charged with something entirely different to the one you’d shared on the way there. 

-

It isn’t the first time Silco has laid flat out on your bed, legs crossed at the ankle with his hand linked atop his stomach. And it’s unlikely to be the last. 

He stares at the plaster on the ceiling above your bed, mentally replaying that delectable little gasp you’d made the moment he’d pushed himself up against you. 

For months now, all he’d craved was just a little taste. Just a little sample to tide him over. 

But now that he’d finally experienced the sensation of your lips grazing his, of your waist under his fingers, he wants more. He wants everything. 

And it was that everything he’d been imagining just minutes before in his shower, until he’d finished with one shaky hand on the tiles holding him up, head hung low, his panting breaths slowing down incrementally until he’d finally had the strength to turn off the water.

At first, he’d simply recalled the delectable feeling of your body pressed against his. Then, it had devolved into a sordid little fantasy of what could have happened. 

Perhaps one of you would have dropped to your knees right there and then. 

Or maybe you’d have dragged him through the office door you were blocking and he could have scratched the wooden floor beneath the desk and left a bouquet of bruises on your hips all in one go. 

It had all come to a crescendo quite soon after that particular image had graced his thoughts and once he’d dried and dressed, Silco had found himself wandering over to your bedroom before he was truly conscious of what he was doing. 

And now, as you bathe, completely unaware of his presence in the adjacent room, he lays on your bed and thinks. 

Of course, when he envisions you in the bath, some part of him naturally thinks of going for another round, this time surrounded by your heady scent, your clothes held against him. And if he were a younger man, he might’ve done just that, a race to finish before you discovered him. But now, he knows that his body is too tired to keep up with his overactive brain. 

Instead, Silco placates himself by turning his head to inhale deeply against your pillow. 

The fact of the matter is, he wants you. Badly. 

But he’d never forgive himself if he hurt you again or pushed you too far. 

Now that the bliss is beginning to fade, he realises that whilst it may be an incredibly arousing situation, he decidedly does not want your first time together to happen on a dusty old desk in one of his factories. 

He wants it to be absolutely perfect. And for that, he needs your full, unadulterated trust and love.

The sound of you rising from the bathwater next door jolts him from his daydream, and as the water rushing down the drain covers his swift exit from your bedroom, Silco shelves his fantasies for now and focuses his mind on the next problem to be solved. 

It’s only a matter of time now until he wins you over. He’s sure of it. 

-

a/n: hello everyone, i somehow managed to convince myself this was the worst story ever and had a whole-arse crisis about it, but we’re finally back on and i’m gonna continue to wrestle my demons in a boxing ring until this story is finished 🥊

Also, thank you so much to everyone who has left such lovely comments since i posted the previous chapter, I genuinely appreciate all of you so much <3 

[the-six-that-thrive-if]

THE SIX THAT THRIVE IS A 18+ INTERACTIVE FICTION! THIS DEALS WITH DISTURBING THEMES OF HORROR, MURDER, GORE, VIOLENCE, EXPLICIT SEX SCENES, ABUSE, DISCRIMINATION, AND DARK ROMANCE! PLEASE BE AWARE WHEN INTERACTING WITH THIS STORY

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

♡ | DELVE DEEPER |

♡ | DEMO | ~ LAST UPDATED: AUGUST 2ND 2023

♡ | PATREON | DISCORD | ASK BOX |

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

AMERICA | NORTHEAST | DISTRICT 6 | DATE UNKOWN

ILLECEBRA

/ilˈle.ke.bra/

/noun/

1. the state of enticement and or lure.

· · ───── · ☼ · ───── · ·

“Anyone with the illecebra Illness is destined to die at the age of 22. There is no cure.”

You were destined to die in 22 years. Since the moment of your birth, you have known your downfall. The age in which you die. You aren’t sure why your parents told you, why they wanted you to know on your tenth birthday, but they did. Holding back tears as if they were the ones to suffer, as if they knew the exact moments they’d die. You like to pretend they prepared you, made you live your life without fear, but—

You’re 22 this year. With no cure in sight, and no way to prevent what is bound to happen to you. You’ll die and you’ll die soon. Unless you can make a deal.

Nearly two thousand years ago, creatures assumed only myth broke free from the ground and ripped away the sky. Fighting amongst themselves and fighting and killing humans. Unable to fight against these creatures, the creation of districts came into being, representing states, nations, and countries, bound to crawl amongst the floor and a dome of safety for the humans living.

Your story begins within the District of Six, one of the first domes built, and the location of the Eclipse Facility, which is in charge of studying Subjects who are monsters from the outside.

☼ Bring Death to a vicious cycle and allow destiny to take a course or Save a vicious world, which seems to be beyond saving. It is up to you.

☼ Customizable MC

[Name, Personality, Gender, Pronouns, Appearance(tattoos n scars), Traits, Allergies, Diet, Piercings, Aesthetics, & More]

☼ Ability to have certain traits, likes, and disabilities

[Favorite Foods, Smoking/Drinking Habits, & More]

[Personality, Mental Illness, Hearing Aids, Prosthetic Arms or Legs and choosing how you lost + MORE]

☼ Options that have and effect on romantic and platonic relationships.

☼ Choose between seven romanceable Love Interests or None at All.

☼ Stats that will affect the story.

☼ The ability to fight, run, hide, and survive.

[Harem Route & Poly Routes Optional]

☽☼☾ [THE DEMON] SUBJECT F-24:

THE FIRE WHICH BREATHS — {AMAB - MAN}

A sadistic and sarcastic demon that is often quiet and looms around you like a shadow, he's oddly cold to others and can be described as being dosed with water. He's smart, far smarter than the others, and only cares for your input. He's murderous and has no qualms about killing others for you. No matter how good they seem. He's lazy but has an extremely good sense of smell and exceptional hearing.

“What the others think, matter not. I’m here for you and you alone.”

༺ Appearance:

6’7FT[200.66CM] He says long, shaggy black hair that reaches his waist and messy side hair pieces that messily shape his face. He has striking almond-shaped gold eyes that seem to glow. He has an athletic build and warm tan skin that's littered with scars, such as cuts, bites, gashes, healed bullet holes, and claw marks. He has a facial scar that runs vertically along his lip's left side.

[UNKNOWN YRS OLD, SPECIES: DEMON BLOODHOUND]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ [THE ANGEL] SUBJECT L-18:

THE WESTERN WINDS WHICH BLOWS — {AFAB - WOMAN}

A calm and energetic person who switches often. Sometimes being extremely energetic and loud, while others, she's calming, and sometimes you forget she's even there. She's kind and loves humans and mortals. She finds their short lifespans adorable and thinks humans are adorable since she's lived many lifetimes. She is quite the birdbrain and often jumps from topic to topic.

“Aw, humans are the cutest~ I just love, love, love ‘em!”

༺ Appearance:

6’0FT[182.88CM] She's a tall woman with the orangish-yellow talons and legs of a harpy eagle, with two large white wings that fade into a pastel yellow. She has the tail of a bird, which is a pastel yellow that fades into a pastel blue. Her skin is white, almost yellow, and she's covered in an assortment of blue freckles, varying in color.

[3000 YRS OLD, SPECIES: HARPY]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ [THE DRAGON] SUBJECT R-12:

THE WATER IN WHICH BITES — {??? - GENDERFLUID}

A quiet and soft-spoken woman who spends most of his time reading. She's very straightforward, blunt, and struggles to pick up on social cues. He likes the dark and spends time in the dark corners, only speaking up when necessary. She's obedient and kind but dislikes humans.

“… No. It is simply easier for my skin to remain in the dark.”

༺ Appearance:

5’11FT(180.34CM) She's a tall and slender woman with dark brown skin that looks almost black and black eyes. She has raven black hair that reaches her feet, with two long dark blue horns. Her back is lined with dark blue spikes. Her wrist, upper thighs, upper arms, and ankles have white armbands. She also has a thick lizard-like tail with spikes that run along the middle. While her forehead has an intricate design, similar to a circlet.

[UNKNOWN YRS OLD, SPECIES: DRAGON(UNCOMFIRMED)]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ [THE ARMADILLO] SUBJECT X-6:

THE EARTH IN WHICH LIVES — {AMAB - GENDERFLUID}

A hardheaded and stubborn individual who is strong-willed but hates change. They often spend time sleeping, curled up into a ball like a rolly-polly. They hate humans and don't shy away from letting you know; they're sometimes outspoken and aggressive.

“Get away, please! The last thing I need is human cooties!”

༺ Appearance:

6’10FT(208.28CM) He has deep brown skin and glowing emerald green eyes, with pale brown armor plates along his back, starting at the base of his neck, with a long flat tail that drags behind him. He has short curly dark brown hair, and his face is dusted in white and pale brown freckles.

[1046 YRS OLD, SPECIES: UNKNOWN (WITHIN ARMADILLO FAMILY)]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ THE WARDEN:

THE VOID WHICH BECKONS — {AMAB - MAN}

A towering, intimidating man that rarely speaks but is quite sadistic. He cares for order more than justice and is okay with playing the role of the bad guy. He prefers it. He's seen as emotionless and uncaring but constantly aware of his surroundings. He demands attention and unwavering loyalty.

“You must simply follow the rules. Or die. There is no other option.”

༺ Appearance:

6’7FT[200.66CM] Simple black slacks, thick black winter trench with silver buckles and chains, and a black helmet similar to a 12th Century English Knight.

[UNKNOWN YRS OLD, SPECIES: SPECKULATED SHADOW BEING OR CHAOS DEMON]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

TWO HIDDEN LOVE INTERESTS - THE KING & ????

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ HAREM [MAIN] ROUTE:

F-24, L-18, R-12, X-6, WARDEN, & MC

☽☼☾ POLY ROUTES:

Poly Route One: F-24, WARDEN, & MC

Poly Route Two: L-18, R-12, & MC

Poly Route Three: L-18, R-12, X-6, & MC

Poly Route Four: R-12, Warden, & MC

Poly Route Five: X-6, Warden, & MC

Poly Route Six: F-24, R-12, Warden, & MC

Poly Route Seven: F-24, R-12, & MC

[You’ll learn their names in book]

ⓒ 2023 CVLUTOSGAMES & the-six-that-thrive-if — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[militarymenrbomb]

A supposedly true story from Reddit.

2 “straight” friends at the pool

100% true stories from my teenage years. Everyone was of age.

Little Background. I’m 40 and married to a woman. When I was younger (senior in high school) I had a close friend, Zach. He was 6’ blonde and average build. I was 5’8, and athletic. We spent most weekends together. Zach’s family had money and his parents typically were gone on trips or in the main house. Zach lived in the pool house.

I was at Zach house one weekend. It was summer and we were by the pool swimming. His parents were away for the day so we had the place to ourselves. The area was very private. As we were swimming, Zach asked if I wanted a beer. Not being 21, I jumped at the offer. We had a couple over the next hour or so and started getting a little silly. We ended up talking about girls at school and sex. I started getting hard through my trunks thinking about all the girls at school. Zach noticed and said “that looks uncomfortable. Just take them off and skinny dip!” I was hesitant but before I knew it Zach stripped down, tossed his trucks to me, and jumped in. I quickly stripped and did the same.

What was the harm is 2 guys swimming naked. It felt good and was fun. I could see though the water some and could see Zach was hard too. His was curved, unlike my straight shaft, and about 6”. He caught me looking and mention that I was pretty hung and asked if I had ever hooked up with any girls from school. I hadn’t unfortunately. I’ve had many girlfriends but never had sex with anyone. I had only fooled around with them a little. He admitted that he hadn’t done anything either. I thought nothing of it.

We got out of the pool, still naked, and went back to the pool house to change and eat some dinner. We ate at the bar, watching tv in our towels. It got dark as we finished and I hopped up deciding to get dressed finally. Walking away, Zach playfully pulled my towel away and I stood that bare assed. I covered up, embarrassed that I didn’t have the pool water to help hide me. Zach laughed it off and said “ we were skinny dipping. I don’t think it’s a big deal anymore lol.” That logic made sense to me so I relax and uncovered. Zach hopped up to and dropped his towel showing me that he was completely comfortable with us being naked together. Told me not to get dressed, that he enjoyed the freedom of being naked.

We sat in the bed to watch more tv. I couldn’t help but look at Zach’s naked body. This was so new to me whether man or woman. It was exciting and was turning me on! I knew my dick was growing hard again. I tried to turn so Zach wouldn’t notice. I didn’t want to weird him out but too late! He saw me trying to hide my hard on and reached over, grabbing hold of my cock. He said it’s fine! Don’t hide it! Its natural it get hard when you’re naked. I was frozen because no one had ever held my cock in their hands before. I slowly turn back unhiding myself. Zach smiled and said look, I’m hard too. Happens to everyone. He flipped around and his cock bounced at attention in front of me. I reached out and grabbed his too…..made sense since he still had a grip on mine.

Sitting there holding each other cocks we started to jack each other off. It felt so good and much better than doing it to myself. This continued till Zach, on his knees at this point, pushed my down on the bed. Told me to relax and enjoy. He bent down and started sucking me. It was amazing! Best feeling I’ve ever had! He rubbed my hairless chest and blew for for about a minute till I knew I was going to cum. I started convulsing and Zach sat up and jacked me off till I erupted on my stomach. Endorphins were flowing wildly through me. Without thinking I reached up and started kissing him. I was so horny I didn’t care. He kissed me back and we laid on each other in a deep tongue make out.

Zach stopped us kissing and directed me to suck his dick. I was still high on what just happened. I obeyed him got on my knees. I took his cock into my mouth happily and started sucking it like I had seen in porn movies. I licked up and down his shaft, spit on the tip, and back into my mouth it went! Zach was really getting into it and started to face fuck me, holding my head down so I couldn’t get away. Pumping harder and faster I knew he was close but I was stuck. Before I knew it he was cumming in my mouth. I had no choice but to swallow his load. He released his grip and bend down to kiss me some more.

We were both exhausted and ended up cuddling all night. Next morning we made out some more but that was the end of it. His parent were back and we didn’t want to get caught.

[shelbystales]

Ceramic Lessons - Part Eight

Cillian Murphy X Reader - Masterlist

Summary: after much insistence from his sister, Cillian attends a ceramics class with her. To his surprise, he feels a connection to the teacher, you. Will this connection go any further or will it be smashed like a bad ceramic project?

Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Warning: swearing, fluff and mention of drugs

A/n: hey guys! please don’t forget to let me know what you think! Hope you like it.

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The next day you woke up with no news from Cillian. But still, the day was sunny and warm, a good day to be alive, to stand up from the bed and go live another day, you thought as you stretched watching the view from your bedroom window. 

You got ready to go to your morning jog, enjoying your free time from classes. Not that you don’t like being a teacher. But it’s so good to have some time to yourself. 

As you ran you made your way to the beach to admire the people around. The beach was noisy and filled with people and their dogs. You smiled admiring the simple things, the kids laughed as the dog fetched the ball inside the ocean, the little girl running after her mom, the young playing volleyball and a couple nested close together. You breathed in the ocean breeze and continued your race. 

After quite some time you returned home and took a relaxing shower.

You jumped on the couch with your notebook and began drawing some piece ideas for your next collection until the intercom buzzed. You made your way to it and pressed the button 

“Who 's it?” you asked 

“Me, mon amour!” a familiar voice answered

“Bela?!” you asked happily 

“Yes, now let your sister in!! I’m sweating as a horse out here” she demanded

You quickly allowed her passage inside the building with the click of another button and in a few seconds she was at your door. 

You hugged her tightly “I don't want to let go” you said, your words muffled in her hair. 

“I’m afraid you have too because I need to pee asap. Unless you like me too pee on your floor” she joked 

“No, I'm good,” you said, unhugging her and letting her inside to rush to the bathroom. 

Isabela emerged from the bathroom with a dramatic sigh of relief, and you both settled into the familiar comfort of your living room. She looked around, taking in the sketches scattered on the coffee table.

"Still working on your pottery empire, I see," Isabela teased, settling onto the couch.

You chuckled, joining her. "Always. So, what brings you here? Not that I'm complaining. It's a pleasant surprise."

Isabela flashed a mischievous smile. "Well, my dear, I happen to be in town for a few days. Work-related stuff. And I thought, why not drop by and check on my favorite sister?"

You grinned. "Lucky me."

Isabela shared more details about her recent adventures in Paris, the bustling fashion scene, and the eccentric characters she had encountered in the city of love. As she told you her stories, you fetched her some water and some snacks.

As you listened to her animated stories, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for your sister's accomplishments. 

Isabela's vibrant energy filled the room, a stark contrast from you. 

Isabela, with her flamboyant personality and penchant for drama, was like a burst of color in a room, drawing attention effortlessly. Her stories of high-fashion escapades and eccentric characters filled the air with an infectious enthusiasm. She possessed an outward, effervescent charm that charmed everyone around her.

You, on the other hand, were the quiet force, absorbing the energy around you and channeling it into your art. Your introspective nature allowed you to delve deep into your creative process, finding inspiration in the subtle nuances of everyday life. But you were not entirely introverted, you are not shy or anything like it. On the contraire, you like being around people and socializing, but maybe after many years in therapy you learned to love yourself to a point where you prefer your company over anyone else’s. 

While Isabela sparkled like a firework, you were the steady glow of a candle, radiating warmth and depth.

"But how long are you planning to stay?" you asked randomly as Isabela finished a story about peacocks. You loved your sister, but sometimes she was too much for you, so staying too long with her could be a challenge.

"Jesus. Already kicking me out, sis? I can go stay with mom and dad," she said, her mouth full of peanuts.

"I wasn't kicking you out. I just have to plan," you shrugged.

"Right, I don't know. I think I’ll leave Thursday, so... four days," she counted on her fingers. "Can you house me for four days?"

"Of course," you smiled.

"And how is life here? How are your classes going?" she asked with a gentle glare.

"All good. All are filled. I don't have any more free spots," you shared, your gaze drifting to the sketches scattered on the table. "I've been caught up with my pottery classes, and I must admit I love it. But I’ve been taking some projects aside. I am currently making some pieces for a new hotel."

“Uh, that's fancy! And oh my god, it's incredible to not have any empty spots! I’m so proud,” she declared, making you smile genuinely.Isabela leaned in, genuine curiosity in her eyes. "Tell me more about your life here. Any exciting developments, intriguing characters, or perhaps a dirty romance?"

You chuckled at her dramatic flair. "No dirty romance, Bela.It's not as exciting as your Parisian escapades. Just the usual pottery classes and some interesting students."

She raised an eyebrow. "Interesting students, you say? Anyone caught your eye? A man perhaps?"

“How do you do that?” you asked.

“Do what?” she asked, confused.

“Read between the lines,” you asked curiously. She shrugged and drank her water. “Oooh,” your mouthed, connecting the dots. “Mom told you.”

“She did. Now tell me, how is he? Is he really that nice? Can a Hollywood star be nice?” she shifted on her spot.

“Cillian is great, he’s nice,” you smiled.

“Oh, come on, give me more! Do I have to beg?" she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Fine, fine.. He's down-to-earth, genuine, and surprisingly humble. Fame hasn't gone to his head, as far as i’ve seen. He's been through a lot, dealing with his ex-wife and son, but he's handling it with grace. And he seems like a great dad."

Isabela leaned back, processing the information. "Well, color me impressed, sis. You've managed to snag yourself a celebrity. I can't wait to meet him. But spill the details, sis! What's he like when the cameras are off? How’ve met?"

You leaned in conspiratorially. "He's just like anyone else. We met in class, his sister is my student. she constantly spoke about him, until one day she brought him in. He has gorgeous eyes and smells great. We've had dinner dates, beach dates.. three dates at total. No drama aside from his ex."

“That she is a crazy one, right?” Isabela interrupted with a smirk as you looked at her puzzled. “Oh come on, when mom told me who you were dating, I had to google!”

You frowned at her. “Really, what did you find?”

“Oh god, you never googled him?” she asked, shocked.

“Didn't want to invade his privacy, or know more than I should. I'd rather learn about him from himself.”

She rolled her eyes. “For fuck's sake, that's so you... well, for your knowledge, I didn't find much. He has done an incredible job at keeping his life to himself. BUT, I can't say the same about her. Do you wanna see her Instagram? It's a crazy person’s Instagram,” she said, already picking up her phone and showing it to you.

You hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded, curiosity getting the better of you. Isabela handed you her phone, displaying a colorful and chaotic Instagram profile.

"There she is," Isabela pointed at a picture of Cillian's ex-wife, her feed filled with flashy and attention-grabbing posts. You scrolled through, feeling a mix of surprise and unease.

"Wow, she really puts everything out there, doesn't she?" you commented, slightly taken aback by a seminude picture with ‘DREAM OF ME’ written on her chest.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort seeing such a public display of someone who played a significant role in Cillian's past. You handed Isabela's phone back.

Isabela laughed, "Oh, you have no idea. She's like a whole reality show in one person. her Storys are unique and the captions! ‘you know you want me’ or ‘anybody ready for a good time?’ “ she mocked as she read, making you feel embarrassed for her. “You'd think she's a problematic  influencer, not someone's ex-wife… not someone’s mom. I bet in a few months she will create an OnlyFans account"

“For real?”

“Yes, look at her” she showed you the phone again

"Well, she certainly knows how to make a statement," you said, still processing what you had just seen.

Isabela shrugged, her eyes fixed on the screen "Cillian made a wise choice moving on,” she remarked casually, her tone carrying a hint of nonchalance.

You silently agreed, wondering if she was always the same character she seemed to be today.

The conversation sort of ended, and you helped your sister settle into your guest bedroom, all while continuing your discussion.

She had some work to do on her computer, and later that day, you both found yourselves sitting together on the couch, debating over what to eat and what to watch. The various food options displayed on the screen made the decision a tough one.

Just as you were about to settle on a choice, your phone buzzed, and Cillian's name lit up the screen. Isabela's eyes widened with excitement. "Oh, look who it is!” she almost screamed.

A warm smile spread across your face, and you accepted the call. "Hey, you," you greeted.

"Hey there," Cillian's voice echoed through the phone.

"Hi! Perfect timing. We were just trying to decide on dinner," Isabela yelled to your ear, making you quickly stand from the couch and walk inside your bedroom for some privacy.

“Who was that?” Cillian asked after giving a prolonged laugh.

“My sister,” you answered, closing the door and jumping onto your bed.

“Oh, I can call you another time,” he suggested.

“No, it 's ok. How are you?”

“Good, relaxed. Had a good day. You?” he sighed as if he was sitting down.

“Me too. Normal day. My sister surprised me with her visit.”

“You don't sound so happy about that,” he chuckled.

“No, don't get me wrong. I love her so much... but she is too much for my ears to handle all day long. And she is staying until Thursday,” you explained.

“Is she the one that lives in Paris?”

“The one and only.”

“Ah, there is an example of an overrated city,” he teased, his voice carrying a playful tone as he chuckled on the other end of the line. "I'd love to hear more about her. I know from experience that sisters can be quite entertaining"

You chuckled, realizing that your sister's vibrant personality was indeed something to behold. "Oh, she's entertaining, alright. We are about to order in, you can join if you want”

“Oh, y/n. You have no idea how much I would love to, but I have Lukas and we already ate some spaghetti” he said, sounding a bit frustrated.

Cillian's mention of Lukas brought a smile to your face. "Spaghetti sounds good. How is he doing by the way?"

"He 's doing great. Today we went to my brother’s house. He played with his cousins all day, just put him to bed” Cillian replied, the fondness for his son evident in his voice.

“Good. I was worried” 

“I can imagine” he sighed and after a few seconds in silence he finally let it out “His mom is using again” 

You closed your eyes, not wanting to hear what he just said “I’m so sorry”

“Yeah. Me too. I’ll have to go to court this week” he inhaled and exhaled “I wish i could hold you right now” 

“Me too” you smiled “I could make you some hot chocolate, because it warms the heart” you said and he chuckled 

“I would love some hot chocolate”

“You could live closer, not almost half an hour” you complained

“I’ll be calling a real estate agent tomorrow to fix that” he said, making you giggle “we should have dinner here. you can meet Lukas” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I want him to meet you”

“And I him”

“Just gotta give him some time. He’s a little upset about not being allowed to see his mom for a while. How about saturday?”

“Saturday is great, but in the meantime you could pass by…”

“We can have lunch anytime you want, Lukas eats at school”

“Tuesday?”

“It’s a date”

“No, my sister will join us, so... not a date…” You chuckled 

“Okay, I can't wait to meet her”

Taglist: @allie131313 @sherbitdibdab @sinceviennas @stilestotherescue @astheni-a @kitkatkaitin @amanda08319 @trixie23 @nancystrange @daisythekitty @cillianbabe @sinceviennas @si1ver06 @kitkatkait @isabbellagonzalezz18 @babypink224221 @1nterstellarcha0s @thenattitude

[juletheghoul]

Let Me Follow (Part 6)

AN: Phew! So this was fucking torture. I don't even know how to explain how hard it's been for me lately. Interaction on this site has been abysmal-and while I know we do this for fun, it sort of feels like I'm talking to myself sometimes. It's so hard to not take other people's success personally but I am trying! I have such a clear vision of where this story will go, and I have so much planned that I don't want to give up. I figured the best way to build up my self-esteem, build up my confidence was to go back to how I did it in the beginning, just write, and post. I've done my best to edit this myself, but it hasn't been beta'd. Hopefully, it pays off, enjoy! xo (enjoy the softness before the storm😅)

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) angst, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age), Yearning, post-apocalyptic world, piv sex (wrap it up!), the softest version of this Joel that I've written to date, Grief, panic attack / ptsd / nightmare

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist

It felt wrong to smile, almost silly. How could anyone smile with how things were in the world? With Johnny gone, with the pounding pain in the back of your head, with the effort and the hunger shredding a hole through your insides—you’d wipe it off your face. Had managed to keep it off for a long time, but then an animal had jumped onto the road and Joel’s arm had shot out in a protective gesture and it had creeped back in. 

“Looks like the rest of the way is on foot.” What had started out as a grinding noise, had quickly turned into dark plumes of smoke from the engine, filling the car with an acrid smell. “Shouldn’t be too far now, few hours.” His scowl was in place, but you saw it differently now–saw it for what it was. A mask, a representation of what this world did to you.

“We can manage that.” Ellie was grabbing her pack, helping Luke with the door before making her way towards the direction Joel pointed you all in. 

“Yes, we can definitely manage that.” You smiled at her, wincing slightly at the way your head pounded. 

“You okay, Sunny?” His hand lands gently on the side of your neck, turning your face towards his. “You can walk, right?” His hand sweeps up, prodding gently at the throbbing goose egg on the back of your head.

“Yeah, I’m okay, my head hurts like a bitch though. Need water soon.” His scowl seems so different now, it’s worry you see there now, instead of anger. He nods once, lingering for a moment before turning and leading the way. Luke doesn’t comment on the exchange, just gives you a small smile and follows Joel, but Ellie; she gives you a toothy grin and a thumbs up. 

Hours pass, thick trees give way to open space. A vast, beautiful landscape stretching out before all of you, seemingly untouched. Everyone is quiet, but alert as you all move closer to your destination. 

“How much longer do you think we have left, Joel?” Ellie is lagging a little bit, the hunger and thirst evident in her voice. 

“Shouldn’t be too much longer.” He turns to look at her, slowing down to let her catch up but he tenses at the sounds of horses just over the ridge in front of you. His gun flies up, but there are too many. Instantly you’re all surrounded by armed people on horseback, twenty people at least. “Get behind me.” He raises his hands in supplication, letting the gun fall onto his shoulder. “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.” 

“Drop the gun.” The person in front of Joel has a rifle pointed at him, a lot of them have guns pointed at the four of you. They have coverings on the lower halves of their faces, the one closest to Joel is yelling, and Joel drops his gun. “You-” He gestures to you, Luke and Ellie. “Take five steps back, separately.” 

“How about we just talk this through-” Joel starts to speak before anyone moves. 

“How ‘bout you shut the fuck up.” The man cuts him off, and gestures to the rest of you. 

“It’s okay, do what he says, we’ll be okay.” You nod at Ellie, moving away from Joel, your own hands up. 

“You been near infected?” The man asks no one in particular. 

“There’s no infected out here.” Joel responds.

“The hell there ain’t!” The man answers before whistling, from somewhere behind them another man emerges with a dog. “Last chance for a bullet, if you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.” The dog barks, and your heart sinks. Ellie looks to you, big eyes pleading and you take a tentative step towards her, stopping when another of the riders points his gun at you. The dog makes his way over to Joel, sniffing at his feet for a moment before rising up, friendly. 

“Like I said,” Joel calls out. “We’ll just move on.” 

“Now the rest of you.” The man calls out, and the dog sniffs Luke, and then you, moving on lastly to Ellie. Your stomach drops and your hand inches towards the knife in your pocket but after a tense breath, the dog licks Ellie’s hands. You can’t help but take a deep breath in relief. 

“You just bought yourself more seconds.” The man doesn’t lower his gun. “What are you doin’ out here?”

“We’re just lookin’ for my brother, that’s all, nothin’ more.” A woman rides forward at his words, her dark eyes focused intently on Joel’s face. 

“What’s your name?” She asks him. 

“Joel.” He answers, and it’s the magic word. She gestures for them to lower their guns. “Joel Miller, right?” She lowers the covering. 

“Yeah, do I know you?” His voice is thick with confusion. 

“I know Tommy, come on, we’ll lead you to him. Give them a few horses.” She calls out the command to no one in particular, but they rush to obey her nonetheless. 

-

You ride with them, nervously clutching Joel where you sit behind him on the horse they gave him. 

“You’re okay Sunny, just hold on. Don’t squeeze your thighs.” He speaks low and you take a deep breath.

“Sorry, I’m afraid of falling off.” You tighten your grip on him, squeezing tightly around his middle. 

“I won’t let you.” He presses his hand to yours, reassuring you. 

It isn’t long before you arrive at a high wall, with people walking along the top of it. A giant gate is closed to all, until Maria–the woman on the horse gives a signal, and the giant gate opens up for your party. The scene that greets you just inside the gates shocks you into silence. It’s a town, a lively, inhabited, working town. People mill about a central high street, kids play and watch your party move through the street with curiosity instead of fear. 

It’s a lot to take in, working lights and shops seemingly open and in good condition, scaffolding and people repairing things–working together. 

“Tommy!” Joel yells out, startling you and you see one of the men on the scaffolding turn and look, rapidly making his way down while Joel dismounts the horse you’re sharing and runs towards him. It makes you smile to see and hear Joel so happy, to see him find his own brother and it makes you think of Johnny. 

I wish you could have seen this place, Johnny.

–

The food tastes too good to keep any semblance of decorum, instead you shove it into your mouth faster than you can chew it, breathing deeply through your nose in order to fill your belly. Maria and Tommy sit across from the three of you in what was essentially a town cafeteria–Luke had been taken straight to the town doctor and you’d all been assured he’d be fed. 

Joel speaks, Ellie argues, and you keep quiet. Tommy and Maria are an item, and if you had to hazard a guess, Tommy has been less than kind in his description of his older brother. There’s something in the air between them, Maria and Tommy, the two of them versus Joel. A look of judgement in her gaze and it raises your hackles. 

“The house across the street from us is empty, the one next to it too if you wanted your own place–” She looks at you but Joel cuts her off. 

“We stay together. The three of us.” He reaches over, taking your hand in his. Tommy isn’t the only one who’s found someone and it makes your heart soar to have him claim you openly like this. 

“That works.” She smiles politely, Tommy too. “How ‘bout a tour?” Joel nods, and you make your way out, with a full belly and a full heart.

-

The town is well and truly a marvel, the culmination of hard work, strategic location and the well oiled machine that is their patrol. They’ve managed to rebuild a functioning, safe town; full of most of the comforts the world had had before, only on a much smaller scale. You keep quiet as she guides the three of you through their little corner of normalcy, unable to stop yourself from noting where all of the supplies are kept, where the food stores are, how many horses are in the stable. 

There’s a tense energy flowing between Joel and Tommy, something unspoken in the air, an anger, a resentment and you can’t exactly blame Joel for his share of it. His brother has been here, safe and happy, with a purpose–content to leave his brother in the dark in order to protect what they have here. You can almost understand why, there’s something else though, something in the way Maria watches Joel that plants a seed of suspicion in your brain. Your suspicion deepens and if you had to hazard a guess, he’s told her some unsavoury things about the man you’d come to–what, love? The thought is sobering, you push it away. 

Maria suggests showing you where you’ll be staying, mentions getting cleaned up while she moves away from them, gesturing for the two of you to follow, and with a nod from Joel, you do.

-

The house was furnished from before, everything old and a bit dusty, but otherwise in good condition. Relatively clean, working lights, a hot shower. Heaven. You stay in there a little longer than necessary, too content in the warmth of the water to make it as quick as you’d planned. Your little trailer–although having served as an oasis by today’s standards–didn’t hold a fucking candle to this. 

You smile to yourself, picturing Joel melting in the warmth, his handsome face tipped back in unadulterated joy. It almost made you regret not waiting for him, almost. That first time Johnny had rigged up the trailer to catch rainwater and figured out a way to somehow connect the whole thing to a powersource and heat it, that same feeling coursed through you now as the steam filled the ensuite, only now it was painted with a bittersweet brush. You’d gotten good at pushing away thoughts of Johnny and what could have possibly–probably–happened to him, and you did it again now. You forced his breezy smile, his dumb jokes, the comforting piece of home that he’d been out of your mind and focused on getting clean. 

Maria had left some clothing for the three of you in the house, doing a remarkably accurate job at guessing what would fit and once dressed, Ellie had run out of the house, itching to explore. It served you well enough. It gave you time to rest and to regroup. It gave you a chance to think about exactly what it was you wanted to do now that something like this was an option. 

—

The house looks normal, really normal. Not just the normal he’s had to adjust the definition of the word to over the last twenty years, either. It’s just a house. It’s just a suburb, just a neighbourhood relatively untouched, by the ravages of the last two decades. A two-story home with good bones, a home he imagined could be stable for him, for Sarah. 

The thought of her forces the air out of his chest, punches it out of him with the force of a gunshot. He hadn’t let himself think about her in so long that it shakes him, freezes him where he stands on the porch like some sort of statue. It had been twenty years since he’d lost her, and yet he can still smell her hair in his nose, can still feel the weight of her in his arms, can still hear the sound of her voice and it breaks his heart all over again. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and lets the anger, and the hurt, the rage of his monumental loss pass engulf him.

His heart pounds in his chest, the blood it beats booming like a drum in his ears. His vision blurs as he stands there, terrified and bewildered, swaying as though caught in a massive wave and struggling to breathe. His hand shoots out and he braces himself against the wall of the house. He focuses on the brick under his hand, the grit of it digging into his palm. 

Breathe Joel, breathe. 

His lungs fill with air. 

In. Out. Repeat.

His vision eventually clears as he catches his breath, the pounding in his ears lessens and he finally feels like he can move his legs and after a few more steadying breaths, he leaves whatever the episode was, and the memory of his daughter on the porch. 

—

He groans as he makes his way up the stairs and you can’t help but smile, anticipation and excitement and a whole bunch of feelings you can’t, or maybe won’t name swirling in your gut as you wait for him to find you. The scowl is there when he finally opens the right door, his eyes burning into yours but there’s something else there too. 

“Everything okay?” You sit up at the sight of him, pale and no doubt clammy by the looks of him, “Did something happen?” The fear doesn’t creep, it slams into you. 

“No no, everythin’s okay. Just tired.” His eyes soften, but only a little. “You look…cozy.” He raises an eyebrow at finding you in bed, quite obviously cleaned up and relaxing. “Shower working?” 

“Yes, I am very comfortable. It’s a real bed, Joel—real blankets and a real house… lights and hot water.” You can’t help but gush, and smile and kneel up to speak to him, “go, go shower and get clean. Maria brought us some clothes, here—“ you all but crawl out of the bed and rush over to the dresser, grab him a towel and soft sleep things, hurrying to shove them into his hands. 

“Hold your horses, girl—where’s Ellie?” He quirks his head, listening for her.

“She’s fine, in the bedroom down the hall, she was passed out when I checked in on her about an hour ago. Now go! Get clean, mister.”

“Okay okay, Sunny, I’m goin’.” Both his tone and his smile are soft, “be right back.” He grumbles halfheartedly, but does what you ask all the same. 

He takes just as long as you thought he might, the hot water and steam casting its spell on him, just as it had on you. 

“Jesus Christ,” He looks so much softer than you’ve ever seen him, standing at the door in a loose shirt and some boxer shorts, holding his dirty pile of rags, “that was the best shower I’ve taken in years.” He sets down the pile before making his way over to the bed. 

“Life Changing, truly.” You smile up at him, giddy at the thought of having him here, safe and protected, in a real bed. “I had almost forgotten what it was like.” You move in a little closer as you speak, itching to snuggle up to him, but keeping your distance all the same. Despite his kiss, his open declaration in the dining hall, it wasn’t easy to forget being pushed away.

“The little setup you had was pretty good.” He must see the doubt, must see the way your fingers twitch with want and he makes the first move, pulling the blanket up and opening his arms. You crawl into his embrace with a toothy grin.

“Nowhere near as good as this.” You bury your face into the skin of his neck and inhale, eyes rolling into the back of your head when his clean scent hits you, “God, I love soap.” You all but moan it into his neck and he laughs, a genuine, deep rumble that fills your heart with something.

“Yeah I bet you do, I’m sorry about the state of me before. You smell pretty great yourself.” He wraps himself closer too, skimming his nose along any inch of skin he can reach and it’s almost as if the world outside doesn’t exist. This is the only thing that matters. Him, you, this bed—Ellie, safe in her room. 

“I scrubbed a lot, l probably took off a few layers of skin.” You run your fingers through his hair, basking in the feeling of his touch, basking in his voice and the soft caress of his breath against your skin. Ignoring the tiny little voice that warns he might change his mind later.

Stop that, just enjoy a good fucking thing here.

You scold yourself, bringing your focus back to him.

“Me too, reckon I needed it, bad.” His hands move from your back, up to your skull and you wince when he touches the goose egg. “Still hurts? I should go find Tommy, see if he’s got any painkillers for you.” He almost goes to move away and while your heart sings at his readiness to leave the comfort of this to take away your pain, your fingers dig into his back and hold.  

“Don’t you dare.” He laughs, and gets back into place.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll do it in the morning.” He takes another look at where you’d been hurt before tucking you close, and pulling the blanket up over you both. “It feels so strange to lay here, almost normal.” 

“I know, it’s almost too weird.” Your leg lifts of its own accord and hooks over his middle, “I have my knife on the nightstand beside me, but I almost feel like I should have it under my pillow.”

“I know what you mean, been livin’ in fear a long time. That doesn’t just go away after a hot shower and a good meal.” His hand comes down and holds onto your thigh, as though you’d both done this a million times, you smile into his neck. 

“Can we stay here?” The question has been there all day, burning a hole in the back of your brain and into the tip of your tongue, “Do you want to stay here?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t even know what I’d do with myself here.” You bite your lip at his admission, “If you wanted to, I would. I’d go wherever you go.” His tone is soft again, his eyes averted and you can see it’s hard for him to admit that out loud. “I know I’m hard to be around sometimes, but I’m tryin’.” His hand sweeps up your thigh as he speaks, giving himself something to focus on, ground himself with.

“I know, Joely. I can see it.” You lean in and kiss his cheek, pressing yourself closer to him, pushing past the lump in your throat to speak. “Once Ellie does what she needs to do, we can all live here.”

“We’ll have to see how that goes, her and the fireflies.” He says nothing more, and you leave it there.

A yawn slips out and before you’ve even finished, he’s reaching over and turning off the light on his side. His arms, the soft sweep of his hands on your skin, his voice in your ear and his lips at your temple all work their magic and lull you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

His whole body twitches, and that’s what wakes you up, bleary eyed and half terrified. You barely have time to rub at your eye with the heel of your hand before he’s moving again, his head jerking side to side and you call to him, but he doesn’t hear you.

“Joel, wake up,” you put your hand on his shoulder, softly, “Joel!” 

He lurches forward violently, his arms flailing in the darkness and you know he’s still in the nightmare, the terror bleeding through into reality for a moment before he realizes where he is. 

“It was just a bad dream,” you reassure him, keeping your voice soft and calm, “you’re okay, come.” You open your arms to him and even though he’s awake, he still takes a few deep breaths before moving. Whatever he’d dreamt, it had been bad. He breathes hard as he settles beside you, the sheen of terror shining on the parts of his face illuminated by the moon filtering into the room. “Do you want to talk about it?” You run your fingers through his hair, doing your best to soothe him. 

“I–” He frowns, opening his mouth, then closing it, and repeating the action a couple of times before answering again, “It’s just, everythin’.” He lets go of a big breath, and melts into the bed, melts into you. “I just, I dreamt somethin’ bad happened–I think. I don’t even know anymore.” his breath fans across your skin as he speaks, raising goosebumps in its wake.

“I get it,” You press your lips to his neck, “Happens to me too, sometimes.” 

The novelty of this moment isn’t lost on you, the stark contrast between when you first met and now would have been unbelievable to you back then.  

“First night in a real bed, and this is what happens.” He scoffs in the dark. The words are meant to be light, but he can’t hide the annoyance threaded in the tone.  

“Well, we could take advantage,” your thumb brushes against the plump of his lower lip, but you don’t push it further, “what do you think?” He almost doesn’t let you finish your sentence, instead his mouth presses against yours, forestalling any further conversation, and filling your stomach with butterflies. 

It’s almost embarrassing how fast your body responds to him, the trail his hands leave across your skin like an electric current. His palm skates up under the loose shirt and finds the weight of your breast, his thumb brushing over the stiff peak in sync with the groan he feeds directly into your mouth. You scramble to get closer, feeling the frantic energy in his hands and matching it.

It feels so fast, feels like just a moment before you’d been sleeping and not clamouring to eat each other alive. But it also feels so slow, like no matter how hard you both breathe one another in, no matter how quickly you rip off each other's layers, you cannot get close enough, fast enough.

It’s then that the realization hits you. There, on the edge of this bed that isn’t yours, but could be. It’s there when the layers are finally fucking gone, when your mouths are fused together but barely moving, when you’re finally fully seated and your aching pussy is stretched around the thickness of him. 

I love you.

His forehead rests against yours while you sit on him, snug, and tight, and wet. The two of you sharing each other's breath, the nightmare forgotten, or most likely repressed. You try to shoo the thought away and focus on the way he feels, on the way he fills you so perfectly. You focus on the hands that hold onto your ass, on the broken moans he breathes onto your skin.

God, I love you.

It pops up again, unbidden and you frown to yourself, trying again to focus on him. 

“What’s wrong baby?” His eyes are on you now, his frown a mixture of pleasure and worry. “Am I hurtin’ you?” He holds your chin so tenderly, it makes your heart ache.

“No, Joely, it feels so good.” You kiss him, relishing in the fact that you can, but it isn’t enough because he pulls away for a moment.

“You sure?” He cradles your face in his big hands and it’s a double edged sword. It’s everything you never thought you’d have, it’s comfort and belonging, but it’s also a void. A black hole you could fall into, and never crawl out of. It’s a weakness, a stupid, wreckless risk that this world no longer seems to have any space for. You can see it, the black pit of despair in his eyes, the trust and gamble it is to love another person and it shifts like the colours of an oil slick stain on concrete when it rains. From terrifying, to beautiful. 

“I’m okay, I promise.” You press a soft kiss to his mouth again, and lie to both him, and yourself.

---

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[bakuhatsufallinlove]

U.A. High School Field Trip Around Japan: Day 5 Translations

This is Day 5 of Shonen Jump’s special commemoration of My Hero Academia reaching one hundred million copies worldwide, which is being rolled out daily across one-week in each prefecture’s newspaper.

The schedule:

April 4th, Day 1: Hokkaidō & Tōhōku regions

April 5th, Day 2: Kantō region

April 6th, Day 3: Chūbu region

April 7th, Day 4: Kansai region

April 8th, Day 5: Chūgoku & Shikoku regions

April 9th, Day 6: Kyūshū & Okinawa regions

April 10th, Day 7: Nationwide release

You can see the illustrations on their website here, where they are released digitally the day after the newspaper release.

Here we go!

Chūgoku Region

Tottori

Photo credit: twitter user aoao_rice

Ashido: "Ohoo~! Have I got a scoop on a summer fling!?" All Might: "I have come to rubberneck!! ...not! Let's go, Young Ashido!" Yaoyorozu: "Since Kaminari-san has overslept again this morning, please be careful as the class representative." Iida: "Indeed! After all, disturbance of life's daily rhythm is no good." Narrator: "The class president was simply communicating with administration."

Hakuto Coast is a magnificent beach beside a shrine famous for being the location of the so-called "first love story" wherein the white rabbit (the shrine's namesake, 白兎) played matchmaker for deity Ōkuninushi and princess Yagami after Ōkuninushi advised the rabbit on how to heal its wounds. The shrine specializes in matchmaking charms and the area is considered a "lovers' sanctuary."

Shimane

Photo credit: twitter user akamenago

Shouji: "What an incredible slope!" Iida: "Aah, this will be hard, but at the top of that slope a spectacular view of the ocean and a sense of accomplishment await you... Give it your all, Engine!! You can do this!" Kaminari: "You're empathizing with the engines!?"

Eshima Ohashi is famous for being photographed in ways that distort its true slope gradient, making it appear insanely steep. It's steep, but not insanely so! I guess Iida identifies with engines.

Okayama

Photo credit: twitter user mayori_nu3sei

Best Jeanist: "Don't give me the cold shoulder. Just say the word and I'll coordinate any number of jeans outfits for us!" Bakugou: "I WAS JUST PASSING BY, ALL RIGHT!!!" Kaminari: "Now, now, now..." Mineta: "C'mon, you can be honest!"

Kojima Jeans Street is a popular tourist destination in Kurashiki City, as it has been dubbed the birthplace of blue jeans in Japan from its first production in the 1960s. Kacchan is in denial--accept your fate and wrap yourself in the weft of rich indigo!!

Hiroshima

Photo credit: twitter user chugokunp_u35

Kaminari: "Hey! Just a minute ago it was on land, now it's under water!?" Bakugou: "It's just high tide, ain't it!!" Sero: "Ohh, right, the whole thing with the moon's gravity. So, it sinks once every day?" Bakugou: "High tide comes twice a day, don't it!! Go back to kindergarten and start over, you pieces of trash!!"

Visiting Itsukushima Shrine, whose torii entrance appears to be floating in the water at high tide and is made out of decay-resistant camphor wood. The shrine buildings themselves are built up so as to not be submerged.

Yamaguchi

Photo credit: twitter user mizyuki_1010

Todoroki: "This is from my father. Please enjoy at your leisure." Kirishima: "'Ssanks for tha' provisions!!" Uraraka: "Todoroki-kun, you know, you should say thanks!" Todoroki: "It's delicious, thank you." Uraraka: "I meant thank your dad!"

They are eating kawara soba, a unique dish in Yamaguchi which is cooked on a hot curved roof tile.

Shikoku Region

Tokushima

Photo credit: twitter user mgmg_hrak

Kaminari: "Wheeeey..." Sero: "I'd rather be a dancing idiot than a wheeey idiot!" Crowd: "Both are idiots, so why, oh why, not dance~!" Ashido: "Let's go, everyone!! We're all part of this!"

Tokushima's Obon festival includes the Awa dance, wherein huge crowds of people dance in procession over a period of three days. Here's an example! They also often sing a song, dating back to a popular tune from the Edo period, which says both dancers and watchers are idiots, so if you don't dance, it's your loss!

Kagawa

Photo credit: twitter user ZqGuesaki72

Uraraka: "It's anybody who's seen it, right? They won't have money problems for the rest of their life!" Izuku: "That's a crazy face, Uraraka-san!!?"

The Zenigata Sunae in Kan'onji City is a sand sculpture depicting an old Japanese coin, called kan'ei tsūhō. It was originally constructed in 1633 by the local people to welcome a daimyō. According to legend, anyone who sees the coin will live a long and happy life and never have problems with money.

Ehime

Photo credit: twitter user chiccoinocico

Todoroki: "What's this kind of thing about? Are we, like, BFFs now?" Kirishima: "You said it, Todoroki! (red-faced)"

This is JR Shimonada Station, an unstaffed train station along the coast which offers beautiful views of the ocean. Kirishima is a sweetiepie, and apparently easily flustered, hehe.

Kōchi

Photo credit: twitter user _baby_hr

Uraraka: "I'm gonna take a picture!" Dark Shadow: "Aieee!" Hagakure: "All righty~!" Sero: "Looking at this kinda thing, it's like seeing a monster in a dungeon." Jirou: "Use delicacy!!"

Ryūga Cave of Kami City is one of the biggest limestone caves in all of Japan; formed over a period of 175 million years, ancient artifacts from the Yayoi period (~300 BCE to 300 CE) have been found within it. Sero, how could you be so cavalier! Dark Shadow is a good boy!!

That wraps up Day 5, see you for Day 6!

[trippingthemoonlightfantastic]

Steve (Steven) Metzler (1925-2024) was born on June 10, 1925 in Deda, Romania. He grew up in a Hasidic family and experienced extreme antisemitism prior to the Holocaust including being beaten and called “Christ killer” in the first grade. When the German army arrived in his town, his family were made to house two soldiers, one of whom offered to help them escape. Steve’s father rejected the offer and within a month, all of the Jews in the area were forced into the Oradea ghetto. Shortly after arriving at the ghetto in May of 1944, Steve and his family were brought to the trains on June 1.

Their train ride spanned four to six days and some of the elderly individuals on the train realized it was heading to Auschwitz based on the towns they rode through. The train arrived at Auschwitz-Birkenau on June 6 where everyone deboarded and were immediately forced into a selection line where Steve saw his mother for the last time as they were separated and she was ushered toward the crematorium. After selection, Steve, along with many others, were told to strip naked, had all of their hair cut off, were sprayed with disinfectant, tattooed with their prisoner number, and were marched to their bunks. Steve was selected to work with a roof repair group, which provided him the ability to observe the extent of operations at the camps. During his time at Auschwitz-Birkenau, Steve witnessed many atrocities first hand. He was forced to watch hangings of other prisoners in the evenings and saw German Shepherds being set upon other prisoners. In August of 1944, during another selection, Steve knew that he was not well enough to pass and jumped out of a second story window to hide in another bunk room while selection occurred. Near the end of 1944, Steve and his work group were driven to the Birkenau crematorium. Upon arrival they were informed that they would not be getting gassed and burned, but instead were there to drill holes for dynamite to destroy the building. Steve, along with the prisoners of Auschwitz-Birkenau were evacuated on January 15, 1945 and began a death march.

He marched for two to three months before his group arrived at a makeshift concentration camp in a large field deep in Germany. They began the march with 16,000 people and arrived with 300. His group was forced to dig ditches around a German airfield, but he knew that for his health he would have to escape before the next march. One night, he crawled under the fence to a river, crossed several irrigation ditches, and found an abandoned barn where he waited for eight days before being liberated by the United States Armed Forces.

After liberation, he had dysentery and was brought to a hospital where he was also confirmed to have tuberculosis. He spent two years at a sanatorium in Haunstein, Germany. In 1950, Steve arrived in America and subsequently settled in Denver, Colorado. He worked in electronics repair and construction before retiring and getting into the art business. He has a daughter and two grandchildren.

Source-

This is the Great Uncle, quasi-grandfather, that just passed. News didn't get to me immediately. I don't have any family photos and cliped his bio from a Holocaust rememberence project because I don't trust myself to tell it right.

His grandson made a movie about going back to his hometown for the first time since 1944. Everyone except the old people in the film are vaguely annoying but Steve tells several of his stories that are so engaing but this is the one I think is most riveting. It's the story of his escape. Setting it up slightly, he's crawled under barbed wire, he has dysentary and tuberculousis and of course severe malnourishment. He slides his body into a irrigation ditch which has water in it.

[thetinygentledoggy]

Rose Thorn In His Side

A/N Hey! This is gonna be my first fanfic ever, and kind of long so bare with me as I world-build. I get nervous thinking about posting this but my maladaptive daydreams just come up with the best material I have to type it out. This is gonna have some key points that I've entirely made up and doesn't exist in the TLW universe but hey, anything to make the story flow yeah? Lastly, this is Fem!Rabbit (medium-sized)(Y/N Ramirez)x Death(Lobo)

conejita = bunny (fem)

if there are spelling errors feel free to alert me! enjoy ☆

_________________________________

Chapter One: Table 7a.

'I am definitely a morning person.'

You thought to yourself as the sunlight from your bedroom window basically blinded you. You sighed, it must be 10am. You always woke up at 10am. No alarm needed, somehow your body knew what awaited it and got itself up without much help.

'I am absolutely a morning person.'

You tried to convince yourself as you stretched and felt all of the stiffness from sleep crackled and popped itself away. You finally summoned the energy to stand and immediately a shiver shot up from your feet to your head. The floor was ice cold, making you want to jump back into the sunny warmth of your bed. But instead, with a heavy sigh you treaded forward into your bathroom. You splashed warm water on your face and when you did you realized your face was cold as well, and the water felt nice. You let the water form a shallow pool in your hands and gently placed your face there.

'Maybe you really are a morning person.'

The thought crossed your mind only to be quickly interrupted by the sound of loud knocking on your front door.

You hastily patted your face dry and rushed to the door to see your long-time friend, Mateo standing there, looking more guilty than a murderer in Church.

"Don't be mad-" he started before you cut him off with a whiny retort.

"Noo Mateo don't do this to me pleasee." You begged, trying to avoid the inevitable B.S you knew was gonna come out of Mateo's mouth.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but Diego got hammered last night and he's really sick this morning, I even went over to check, just to make sure he wasn't lying and the poor kid is throwing up chunks. There's no way he can work, can you pleaaase work a double, por favorrr."

You sighed, knowing that you were definitely going to cover for him, but you were absolutely going to complain to yourself about it all morning.

"I am NOT a morning person, Mateo...but fine. I will come in, give me an hour and I'll be there and before you ask, sí, you do owe me, as well as Diego."

"Wait what, I'm just the messeng-" Mateo blurted before being interrupted with a playful "Adíos" and the door being shut in his face.

While getting ready to start your work day hours earlier than usual you cursed everything under the sun.

Curse your anxiety for making it so you would work at the same bar for 6 years, too afraid of new settings and people to ever try and get another job.

Curse Deigo for not knowing his drinking limits, forcing you to come in early instead of following your usual morning routine that you clung to so tightly.

Curse your need for control over your life, making you feel so overwhelmed and anxious when simple things like covering for a coworker occurs unexpectantly.

Curse life for being so difficult all the time.

Curse death too because if you were immortal you wouldn't have to worry about any of this at all.

You chuckled at your mini rant in your head before heading off to work at the bar that's been somewhat of a second home to you.

When you arrived at the bar, you took your usual position behind the counter, setting up your work area with clean glasses and making sure your kegs were ready. Your boss, Maria, placed a hand on your shoulder making you jump.

"Hola Y/N! Sorry to call you in like this, I know you already were gonna work the night shift but idiot one, Mateo, spent the after hours taking shots with idiot two, Diego, knowing he's a lightweight so, here we are, your lunch is on me today okay?" She gave you a reassuring smile before zipping away to take care of her duties.

You caught Mateo cleaning a table across the room and you shot him the coldest dirty look you could muster. No wonder he looked so nervous this morning, he was the main culprit. Mateo mouthed a pitiful "Sorry...love you!" while making a heart shape with his hands before running away out of your view into a backroom.

You sighed, and decided that you were going to try and make today a good day. At least at work you can escape your head. No room to overthink when you have to think about orders and drink making and cleaning tables.

Looking at a wall clock that read 11:34am, you decided to get lost in your work.

To your appreciation, the earlier work day went by fast. You saw the usual customers with their usual tales and problems and met a few newcomers who were just happy to see the bottom of a glass.

Checking the time again, it read 1:39am.

'Last call is at 2am, if I go fast I can be outta here by 3am.' You thought to yourself while drying some shot glasses.

Most of your coworkers bid you goodnight a while ago, they were lucky enough to only have one shift. You were left with Gabriella, a nice girl with good street smarts, and Maria, your ever so loving boss.

Gabriella bumped her hip into yours with a tired but happy smile on her face. She was always a bit of a space invader but she also was the first person to check in on you most times as well as defending you from customers who got a bit belligerent after too many drinks. So, you didn't mind her touchiness.

"Hanging in there Y/N? We're almost done! I'm ready for a nice hot bath tonight." she said while she picked up a few glasses, helping you get them clean.

"I'm definitely tired. When I see Mateo and Diego again they're never gonna hear the end of it....like...ever. I will haunt them in the afterlife, just watch Gabi, just watch."

Gabriella laughed before greeting Maria who then came behind the counter and got very close to you and Gabriella.

"Alright ladies, mira mira, table 7a.-"

You glanced up at the table that sat in the back corner of the bar, there sat a hooded figure, so tall they looked like they would tower over you even while sitting. You couldn't make out much of the figures face, except for a nose and mouth that definitely belongs to a wolf.

You were a little unsettled by them, afterall, if they wanted a late night drink, shouldn't they have approached the bar? Why sit in the dark, and why not speak to the bartender..? Are they looking for trouble?

Your thoughts were interrupted with the rest of Maria's sentence.

"He called me over, said he wants a Black Russian, I've got to count the drawers for the night so you two handle that..and be extra kind to him..seems like he's in a bad mood..."

Maria looks up at you both with a hint of concern in her eyes.

"If he causes trouble..call the coppers first...then me..kay'?"

Both you and Gabriella were a bit taken aback by Maria's request.

'Did he really give her that bad of a vibe?' you thought before returning your glance to the hooded figure. He now was looking up, and straight at all three of you. He had piercing red eyes that seemed illuminated no matter the lighting. You could swear you saw a small sinister grin on his face as he stared intently. You suddenly felt so uneasy, and unsafe. Your heart quickened its pace so you forced yourself to look away. Maria had apparently already left and you turned your head to see Gabriella caught in the same petrified state you were in.

"Gabi-" you started only to be cut off by her somewhat shaky voice. She snapped her head to look you in the eyes.

"Y/N, I'll wash the dishes, wipe the tables, sweep the floors and even prepare the kegs for tomorrow. But I'm not serving him."

"Gabi, you don't have to do all tha-"

Gabriella took another glance at the hooded figure and whatever she saw made her have visible goosebumps.

"I'll start now." She chirped quickly before dashing into the backroom.

You looked back at table 7a, and now there was no mistaking it. He was smiling. A bit wider than he was before as well. He found something funny, and for some reason, that gave you the same goosebumps Gabriella had.

You didn't want to trigger an anxiety attack, which were at times unfortunately frequent for you, so you figured you would just make his drink, the quicker you can get this stranger out of here, the better.

His drink...

.......

His drink....

'What the hell did he order again???'

You cursed yourself for forgetting what Maria said he wanted. You cursed this strangers intense gaze for erasing all of the thoughts from your head. Maria kept her office locked while counting money, and there was no way Gabriella remembered since she never had the intention of serving him anyway.

You were gonna have to ask him.

'Shit.'

You grabbed your little notebook and pen from behind the counter before hesitantly making your way to table 7a.

You tried to keep your eyes down at the floor but you did glance up while making your way over and confirmed your suspicion that this wolf was staring you down all the way to his table. It left this ball of uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. You took a big but quiet breath in as you approached his table.

"Hola señor, I'll be serving you tonight, could you please remind me what your order was again?" You prayed your unease didn't show in your tone as you put on your best customer serving voice.

The wolf said nothing for a few seconds, staring at you with a smile that maybe would seem friendly on anyone else but him. Those seconds felt like an eternity as you took the time to see his face up close. His fur was white, with a dark mask like pattering over his eyes leading all the way down his snout. Despite the ghastly hood that might have suggested otherwise, his fur looked soft. You admittedly thought about what it would feel like to touch it. You concluded that on closer inspection, he was a bit handsome.

"A Black Russian." His voice interrupted your shameless thoughts. His voice was deep, smooth and cold and had the inflection like he thought something was just a bit comical.

"Of course, coming right up." You quickly spun yourself around and sped walked away back to the safety of the counter.

In practically no time, the Black Russian was made. This time while walking back to the table you made sure to keep your eyes down. You wondered when the last time someone even ordered a Black Russian was.

When you reached his table, you desperately didn't want to meet his eyes again, they made you feel like you were frozen in place, staring hopelessly at something that looked like it kinda wanted to eat you. So instead you focused your sight on your hand placing the drink on the table, trying again to hide your uneasiness.

All the while, Death, unbeknownst to you, was having a bit of a fun time watching you. The way you had tapped your pen nervously on your notepad, the way you bounced from one foot to the other, biting your lower lip and desperately trying to avoid eye contact. And he especially took notice of the way your tail twitched now and again. He knew he made you unbelievably unnerved and you wanted nothing more than to escape the situation. And yet there you were, taking his order with the shakiest smile ever. You could've cowardly escaped to the backroom like your friend but you didn't. You endured his unsettling gaze and he admittedly loved every moment of it.

"Will that be all..it's the last call so.." Your voice finally gave in and you couldn't hide your uncomfortability towards the end of your sentence.

He decided he was having more fun than he planned to, and he wasn't finished torturing you yet. He licked his lips, and you took a shameful amount of interest in the size of his teeth and the way his tongue rolled over them.

"Actually, I meant to order a White Russian. Would you mind.." He looked up at you, giving a smirk that didn't hide his devious amusement.

It took you a second to find your train of thought.

"Right, a White Russian..so cream then, I'll be right back." you chirped before retreating once again to your counter.

While fetching the cream needed for his drink, Maria finally left the safety of the office, she had her coat on, so you guessed she was ready to leave. She glanced over to the wolf, before turning her gaze back onto you.

"Any trouble out of that one?"

Truthfully, despite feeling as though you wanted to run for the hills during your entire interaction with him, and having a hunch that you will never forget those daggers he has for eyes. He wasn't actually guilty of anything other than looking like serial killer. You couldn't truthfully claim he did anything worth being labeled trouble.

"No, he um, just wanted a White Russian instead." you stated while motioning with the small pitcher of cream in your hand. Maria breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's good, well Gabi seemed a little sick when I saw her last in the back so I sent her home, she didn't get to wipe the tables so that and locking up are your final tasks for the night. It's raining pretty hard so try and find a spare umbrella in the back. Night Y/N." Maria then made her way out of the back exit. Leaving you and the wolf in the bar alone.

. . .

Oh right, his White Russian.

You spun around to see him tapping his claw on the table. Guess you took too long, he no longer seemed as amused.

You zipped to his table, while simultaneously trying not to spill any cream. When you approached him he immediately startled you with his voice.

"Any longer and the ice would've melted..and I thought rabbits were meant to be fast." He gave a deep half chuckle.

You were almost offended at his comment, there wasn't a need for stereotypes, after all you could say a lot about him being a big scary wolf. Suddenly, you had newly sprung courage bubble up in you. You poured the cream carefully and decided to speak up.

"If you had ordered the right drink the first go around you wouldn't have to wait Señor Lobo. We all can't be perfect."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you desperately wanted to swallow them back up. Hesitantly, you peeked up at the wolf. For a second you thought you might've saw a surprised expression on his face before quickly being replaced by one of devious amusement once again. He gave a deep hearty laugh before downing his drink and licking his lips. You cursed yourself for focusing on his mouth so much.

He then abruptly stuck out his paw with a grin.

You hesitantly placed your hand in his and gave a small shake.

"Death." he spoke as he tilted his head slightly, not letting go of your hand.

"What? Wait like, that's your name or..are you wishing it on me?" You asked giving a fake chuckle, hoping that he wasn't actually wishing death on you.

"That's my name. And yours is?" He still held your hand, it was strangely cold for someone who was covered in so much fur.

"Y/N..Ramirez." You gave a small smile before gently trying to pull your hand back only for him to hold it tighter for a second longer before letting go.

You hadn't really thought too deeply into his name, you've met a lot of folks with all sorts of unique names, some they were given, others they came up with themselves. If anything, his name suited him well. You couldn't imagine if he had a name like..José or Luis.

"Well, Death..the bar is now closed and I've just got these tables to clean before locking up. It was..nice meeting you and I hope you come again." You gave him the same spiel you gave every new customer.

"Of course, enjoy the rest of your evening, Y/N," He said smoothly. You nodded and reached into your servers belt to fish out his receipt.

However, when you looked up to give it to him, he was gone, and on the table was a pile of gold coins that were worth more than what one lousy White Russian would cost.

You looked around in confusion as you didn't comprehend how he could've gotten past you without making a sound. Or how he could've left through the front doors without ringing the bells at the top. You shook your head as you realized how tired you were. You scooped up the coins and left them on Maria's desk for tomorrow, after that you wiped the tables down and let your mind wander as you locked all the doors and windows of the bar.

You initially thought that Death's encounter with you would leave you with nightmarish memories of his red eyes and chilling demeanor. Instead, however, you kept thinking about all the wrong things.

You thought about how you liked his fur, and how soft it looked.

You like his scent, it reminded you of how it smells right after it rains.

You liked the way he talked, deep, smooth, and confident.

You liked the way his tongue glossed over his large teeth..and the way your hand felt in his..

You forcefully ejected yourself from your embarrassing thoughts as you locked the front door and stepped into the hard rain.

'Right. Maria did say it was raining and I did not grab an umbrella. What a damn idiot am I.'

You sighed deeply, preparing yourself for the 15 minute soaking wet walk you were gonna have to take home. You only got a couple paces in the direction of your home before you stopped in your tracks.

'Ah, I was right. I didn't forget those eyes.'

You thought to yourself as you immediately recognized Death's illuminated red eyes in the shadow of a tree not too far from where you stood. Hesitantly, you called out to him.

"...Death?"

Instantly, he emerged from the shadows, chuckling to himself as he approached you.

"Bien, conejita, muy bien. You have good awareness."

For some reason, you made a mental note to remember his compliment to you.

"Were you out here waiting for me?" you asked as he finally got within a few feet of you. It was then you truly realized how big he was. You weren't as small as other rabbits in your family, in fact you kinda considered yourself tall for a rabbit and yet, your head only came up to his chest, forcing you to lift your head up to look at him.

"Sí, it's raining hard and you have no umbrella. So I'll be a gentleman and lend you this."

Suddenly the hard pellets of rain no longer battered down on you, you blinked and realized, Death no longer had on his poncho, instead, it was on you.

You felt your cheeks and ears burn red with embarrassment.

"Ah, gracías.." You focused your sight on the ground as you found it too hard to face him in that moment.

"No problem, though of course you can't keep it..we are strangers after all, sí?"

'Oh right. Well then he'll have to take it back...after I get home.....Oh.'

You then realized what he was implying. He was gonna walk you home, you felt your cheeks and ears burn even hotter, and for a second you wanted to feel the rain on your face to cool you down.

"Right, well just this way then.." you trailed off as you began picking your pace back up in the correct direction.

While you focused your gaze on the ground out of shyness, Death focused his gaze on you.

He admittedly wasn't entirely sure why he was out here, walking some bunny to her home in the rain. He only meant to stop in for a quick drink after a long day. He mentally flipped through reasons that led him to be here, chauffeuring a little rabbit home.

He found you interesting, he liked the effect he had on you, specifically.

He had a strong effect on practically everyone. The running, screaming, pleading, fighting back kind of effect.

But on you, there was a push and pull. He noticed the way you couldn't be still under his gaze, how when given the chance you practically scattered to the comfort of the counter away from his table...but he also noticed the way you had unconsciously grazed your thumb over his paw when you shook hands... and the way your breath hitched when he leaned in too close. He chalked up his interest to wanting answers for this strange behavior and figured a quick chat on the way to your home would be all he needed to satisfy his curiosity.

....Plus, he enjoyed the way you had to keep pulling up his poncho because it was much too big for you. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

"It's just past this uphill, not too far." You interrupted his thoughts. Your voice shaky, but this time not from uneasiness, instead, you found yourself very, very cold. Despite his poncho covering most of your body, it wasn't thick enough to not be eventually soaked in the relentless rain.

The shivering as well as the now slippery uphill walk slowed your pace greatly. Death, who was already making an effort to not speed past you with his naturally longer strides now had to come almost to a complete stop. He watched you helplessly attempt to conquer a small hill.

He didn't want to spend this much time on this little side quest of his. Shaking his head, he decided there was no other option.

He swiftly got close behind you and scooped you up bridal style into his arms. You screamed out in surprise as you found yourself suddenly looking up at Death, and the cloudy night sky, with rain more gently now, hitting your face. Death looked annoyed as he moved his mouth dangerously close to your ear.

"Hush now, conejita, you're starting to become more of a burden than you're worth." he whispered in your ear.

Offended, you scowled and looked away from him.

'It wasn't like I asked you to walk me home.' You thought to yourself as you begrudgingly let Death carry you in his arms, wishing you were home already in your warm bed.

Death looked down at you, seeing your hurt expression made him upset. He truthfully didn't mean to come across as rude as he did. The whole reason he's even here right now was to talk to you. Strangely for him, he regretted his comment and tried to change the subject.

"How long have you worked at the bar?" He asked plainly.

"Six and a half years, 17 days and 14 hours but hey who's counting." You grinned at your joke. You honestly did love working at the bar, despite all of the challenges it can present you.

Death nodded before carrying on.

"So then, you've seen many different kinds of people. What do you think of them?"

You gave your answer thought before speaking, humming while you did so.

"Ahh, most people are fun. They just want to let loose and chat everyone's head off. That, or they are looking for some comfort in drinking. Either way, I've had no real problems with most of the customers. I just do my best to give them what they need."

The rain has now come to a light sprinkle, the cold air pushed against you, making you want to retreat into the fur of this large wolf, but you refrained, not wanting to cross a line.

Death hummed in response and then there was a silence. You closed your eyes and focused on the crunch of the leaves under Death's feet as he carried you to home.

You could faintly hear his breathing, calm and steady despite just overcoming the uphill in the rain. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest combined with the sway of the walk was just the break you needed after such a long day.

Death's voice broke the silence.

"And what do you make of me."

Although it was a question, Death said it like he it was more of a thought to himself, as if he already knew the answer and was just thinking out loud.

You took even longer to answer this time.

"I think you must have it hard, with your appearance being so...unnerving. But you're a good guy I think. Plus, when you get a good look, you look kinda handsome. So cheer up, and don't be so down, you don't have to be the big bad wolf, you can be whatever you want."

You decided to answer honestly as you saw your cottage not too far away. And it's not like you'll ever see this guy again, so who cares if you say something just a bit embarrassing.

Suddenly, Death placed you gently onto your feet and removed his poncho from you.

You turned to look at him, hoping your honesty didn't tick him off. Death stared off at something else. This time he was the one avoiding eye contact.

"You're home, rabbit." He said as he put his poncho back on himself, seemingly unbothered by how cold and wet it was.

You turned to see your cottage just a few paces ahead of you.

"Ah thank you, be safe on your travels."

He paused, still glaring into the void.

"You too conejita, I don't want to see you too soon."

Before you could ask him what that last part meant, you blinked and he vanished. And somehow, with his departure, the air felt warmer.

That night, after a much needed shower and dinner, you laid in your bed with your head full of nothing but the wolf from the bar.

You wished on every star you could see from your window that he wasn't just a passersby.

That you might get to see Death again.

You drifted off to sleep, with dreams of Death filling your head.

.....

Not far from your home, Death sat against a tree. Your words replaying in his mind. He ruffled the fur on the top of his head with a heavy sigh.

He knew he couldn't leave you alone after that.

End of chapter one.

[remyfire]

Series: Some Things Are Evergreen

Chapter: 1/6

Ship: Hawkeye Pierce/BJ Hunnicutt, Hawkeye Pierce/OFC (background)

Note: So excited to jump back into this series! Thank you to everyone for your patience!! Updates will be coming every Saturday. If you're a new reader, make sure to take a look at the story notes if you're interested in diving in right away!

Hawkeye thinks he's gonna boil over from the building heat. It's all long stares across the mess tent table or knees touching under the checkers board or the lightest grazes of Beej's fingers along his hip during the changing of the post-op guard. And while he's known ever since that first weekend in Seoul that once BJ gets an idea in his mind, nothing is going to make him waver from it, Hawk is still eternally frustrated by the fact that he hasn't even gotten the chance to memorize BJ's taste.

As Hawkeye and BJ sink deeper into their new casual sexual relationship, the nature of how they've related to each other up until now begins to change. Old tricks from their pasts no longer work the way they remember. Ghosts haunt the edges of their memories. Pockets of private time are fewer and farther between. And ultimately, come hell or high water, they'll either learn how to use their words or they'll lose everything before it even really begins.

[filmofhybe]

CHAPTER 6 : HE FOUND ME..

> pairing : Nishimura Riki x Female Reader

> genre : college student AU! , Pool Lifeguard AU! , smau , fluff

> warnings : SLOW BURN!! , swearing , bad humor jokes , kys jokes (die etc) , kissing , semi verbal bullying (no violence) , reader! injuring herself by accident , missing parent figure

> chapter synopsis : Niki couldn’t his jealousy towards heeseung. Him hanging out with y/n already hit him like a rock. So Niki decides to add y/n on her socials. As Niki compliments y/n recent post, Isabelle founds out causing jealousy to build up in her.

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comment or reblog to ask be on the series taglist.

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

( I also just want to mention that this series is kinda slow burn, so if your not into slow burn or plot lines that can take a bit to develop than this story is probably not your cup of tea. But I do recommend checking out my other works if you want, enjoy!! )

587 words.

Niki’s pov:

I felt so angry when I saw Jake and Heeseung stories with y/n in them. Knowing that such a pretty girl is with 2 of your best looking friends hurts. Ugh imma go crazy over this girl.

I quickly followed her on all her social. Fuck I hope she doesn’t think I’m a stalker.. now I just have to wait till she follows me back. I walked downstairs to go get some water when I see Isabelle on my couch with my sisters. If I have to be honest with you Isabelle was a really sweet and pretty girl, always listen to my problems and overall a decent person. She’s moving to my college soon which is exciting, I just hope she gets along with my friends.

“Niki want to watch a movie with us?” Isabelle said softly. Making me turn around. “Sure but maybe just a few minutes I’m getting tired.” I walked over to the living room before sitting next to her. My eyes was focused on the movie when my phone lit up. Eyes widen at the notification, jumping off the sofa causing Isabelle to groan. “Fuck you niki I was comfortable laying down.” She held her head in pain. “I’m sorry I just need to go to bed.” It was late either ways.. before any of them could call me back I ran back up stairs.

I was just scrolling through twitter before coming across y/n recent post. God really put his time in creating such a beautiful girl. I liked her post and comment on it before turning on my tv.

The light from my phone caught my attention, grabbing it into my hand and I felt excitement take over my body and mind.

Y/N Y/L/N just followed me back. And replied to my comment.

y/n’s pov:

Jake, heeseung and my family were all sat in the living room doing whatever. I really miss these days where everyone would gather around almost every night before going back to their sweet home. I was zoning out from the conversation until I got a message from instagram, Twitter as well as tiktok.

instagram

nishimura.riki has followed you.

TikTok

dance.riki has followed you.

Twitter

nishimura.r1ki has followed you.

I clicked on his profile and scrolled through his feed. After clicking on some videos i finally realized it was the guy who caught me the week before term break. The scene still plays in my head till this day. I decided to text heeseung even though he’s literally in front of me but if I said it out loud, my whole family is gonna throw unnecessary questions at me.

I texted the group as well after I posted on twitter, didn’t expect Niki or the kids pool guy to comment on it.

Isabelle pov:

series taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @haechansgf @txtistheloml @skepvids @syuuji @oshakyao @haechansbbg

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (35)

Author’s Note:  I had planned on delivering more this chapter, but the wordcount got a little out of hand and it made the most sense to stop it here. I’ll be working on the next chapter in advance so I can still write the good parts while my muse is present. For those that are still with me reading this story, I would suggest listening to Runaway by AURORA for Sakura’s pov in these chapters and Don’t Worry by Boon for Sasuke’s second pov. Special shouthout to my Optom husband who was happy to lend me his medical knowledge for this chapter. As always, let me know your thoughts. Thank you for your patience. I promise it will pay off. 

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34

Chapter 35: No Help Needed

Sakura’s trail was cold. Beyond their shared bedroom and her departing letter, there was nothing. Like a released bowstring, Sasuke had sprung forth into the night in the direction of the only detail he was certain about her plan: Tanigakure. He had plucked this detail from Mako’s memories like a healer digs out pieces of metal in a flesh wound. The physical toll of traveling nonstop overnight while chakra-depleted had cost the Uchiha, and he had been tempted several times to just pop another chakra pill into his mouth. However, he couldn’t risk taking it in case he came upon a situation where he would need it in combat. So, Sasuke had trudged through the sand all night, wrapping his hair and face with the black cloth of his turban, pulling the hood of his traveling poncho up and over his hair to better disguise himself; Sasuke didn’t want to even waste chakra on a simple transformation jutsu. He ‘had to be discreet,’ after all.

Sasuke arrived at the jagged mountainous ribcage surrounding Tanigakure the following evening, gaining entrance easily as an unrecognizable traveler in a world of peace. His eyes searched for any flash of pink and he stopped at every place he could think where Sakura might start her search for the organization bent on killing her: the hospital she made Sasuke stay at just so she could visit the medical facilities here, and even their old hotel room, but there was no sign of her. After hours of staking out with no word or sign, Sasuke cursed himself for not gathering more information about her plan from Kakashi before pursuing her. His inability to find even a trace of her just went to show that Sasuke was always a little too confident in himself and still found himself habitually underestimating Sakura’s skill. 

As the sun began to set, Sasuke wanted nothing more than to approach every single soul crowding the streets in the evening lantern-lit dusk and ask if anyone had seen her, but Sasuke couldn’t risk the suspicion it would rouse about his own identity. Who was he and why did he want to know? How did he know her and where could they find him if they did see her? He could already hear the questions and he didn’t want any rumors to make it to the leadership of this village. Discretion turned out to be a lot more difficult when you were panicking.

And so, Sasuke perched himself on the roof above a crowded izakaya, where many individuals were flocking to participate in nighttime drinking and he did the only thing he could think of: watch and wait for a word, a clue, the breath of her name or description between the boisterous laughter of intoxicated patrons. In the darkness of night, when the starlight outshone the dimming lanterns, Sasuke even became desperate for the crickets to sigh but a syllable of her name. But like everyone else, they gave him nothing. Sasuke released a frustrated sigh, adding another useless sound to the nightscape around him as he jumped down from the building, too restless to do anything but pace the streets and wonder how he ever ended up like this.  

.

.

.

Sakura fingered her dark hair in the reflection of the ink-stained water in the bucket at her feet. She scrubbed at the lingering residue of black dye running past her hairline and wrapped the towel in her hands quickly around her short hair. When Sakura heard the crack of the door, she flashed the woman who entered a quick grin. 

“You dyed it!?” the youngest girl of the group, Tabi exclaimed, falling to her knees beside Sakura with her hands covering her mouth. “But it’s your best feature! You would attract the attention of everyone!”

Sakura shook her head, wanting to say something along the lines of ‘that’s exactly the point,’ but she didn’t for the obvious reason of blowing her cover. And despite what she had told the headmistress of the bathhouse, Sakura didn’t plan on being here long—just long enough to gather the intel she needed in order to move into the next phase of her plan. 

“Mother will not be happy,” the girl stated, reaching over to finger a stray lock of jet that escaped from the bundle atop Sakura’s head. 

“Mother,” Sakura responded, using the same honorific for the headmistress, “will hopefully understand my reasons. I don’t want to stand out too much.” 

Tabi shook her head, saying, “Is it permanent? How long will it last? Will the steam from the bath ruin it?”

Sakura shook her head, grateful she could be honest with the young girl with at least one thing. “It should hold for a couple of days, if not more.”

“The sooner it fades back to rose, the better.” Tabi stated matter-of-factly, rising to move to the other side of the room that they shared to begin the evening ritual of preparing for the night’s work. 

Sakura copied her experienced movements, powdering her face while her hair dried, carefully concealing the purple diamond between her brows. Infiltrating this job had been easier than Sakura had anticipated given the reputation of difficulty in this line of work. Sakura had approached the headmistress as a ‘transfer’ from another establishment. Due to Tanigakure’s exclusive nature from the outside world, it was not difficult to acquire fabricated copies of the necessary paperwork indicating a ‘private transfer’ from another village, and Sakura easily produced the medical assessments of her health that was also required. It also didn’t hurt that Sakura’s coloring was considered rare and possibly desirable by some; in other words, she would be highly profitable. Sakura promised the headmistress a steep percentage for every patron she ‘pleased.’ Or would allegedly please. 

No, Sakura did not plan to violate herself in order to gain the information she was looking for. She had never stooped into this role before in all her mission activity, but Ino had once used the disguise in order to slip into minds of her targets more easily once she got them isolated and no harm could befall her body once she performed the jutsu. 

Sakura had only acquired empty leads since she had arrived in Tanigakure. All Sakura needed to do was assess, learn what she could from the right people, and transition into the next step of her plan. The infiltration was the easy part, but this next part was dangerous, and Sakura would have to tread so very carefully. 

“Why are you here, Tabi?” Sakura couldn’t resist asking, wondering how such a lovely girl ended up servicing despicable men at one of the secretive bath house locations in the shinobi world. “How did you end up in a place like this?”

Tabi eyed Sakura curiously for a second before laughing. “I could ask the same about you.” And then she didn’t talk to Sakura for the rest of the evening as they prepped for the night.

Sakura followed the other girls into the establishment, a building disguised as a common bathhouse in the front section, advertising the typical bathhouse amenities, but concealing the back half which included private baths and rooms. When a section of the wall slid back to reveal a dark sitting room, Sakura had to steal herself and conceal an inner cringe under the stares of the lounging men who were already expecting them in the luxury-style waiting room. Sakura never felt so disgusted in her entire life than she did in that moment under the predatory gazes of those who only sought to devour others and pleasure themselves. Sakura immediately found herself second guessing this step. Maybe this hadn’t been such a clever idea. But she had no other choice. The members of the organization had been able to conceal themselves in a “neutral” territory long enough to gain numbers and begin operation. To Sakura, this meant one of three things. The first and most unlikely option was that this anti-peace organization had managed to keep their activity low enough to avoid detection and that Tanikage was truly focused on other things. Sakura doubted this one. The village was simply too small to have as many members as Mako had claimed go undetected. Or there was a very real possibility that the Kage and Council were already aware and didn’t take action because powerful figures were involved, maybe even leadership, or they simply did not care.

When the door was shut behind them, Sakura watched the other girls disappear into the noisy room hazed with pipe smoke, making their way toward familiar patrons. Socialization seemed to be a part of the selection process, to intensify the excitement, and Sakura planned to take advantage of it. She held her breath as she navigated, walking up to Tabi who had already familiarly climbed into the lap of one of the younger men, apparently a returning patron of hers. 

“Is this a new friend,” the man drawled thickly through a handful of Tabi’s hair that he had twirled throughout his fingers and pressed to his mouth. 

At Tabi’s sudden wide-eyed expression at Sakura’s appearance, Sakura answered for herself, soothing Tabi’s fears in the same sentence. Sakura knew the look of someone who felt threatened by her presence, and Tabi was giving her a warning stare for approaching her patron. “Yes. Guta Hae, sir,” Sakura introduced with a bow. “I am new. Perhaps you could introduce me to any friends that you might be in company with.”

Around her, the socialization had already begun and men who had already found their women for the evening, began to mingle with their associates, the girls clinging to their arms like trophies. Several of them appraised Sakura from a distance, naturally curious at the new face. But Sakura wasn’t going to just be picked from the lot like a prized animal ripe for butcher. No. Instead, Sakura would be choosing amongst them in the form of an introduction, just as she had planned. 

Tabi nodded, exclaiming, “Yes. This is her first night so she doesn’t know anyone,” Tabi smiled back at the man who was running his hands possessively over her leg in the dim light around them as he debated whether this unexpected disturbance would be beneficial in some way, or if he should just whisk Tabi away to their private room. “Could you introduce her to some friends, Toka-san?”

“Hmm,” Toka smirked, “any favor for you, dear,” he murmured into Tabi’s hair. “If you’re willing to return it.” 

The words dropped into Sakura’s stomach to spoil like rotten food. This wasn’t good. Sakura didn’t want anyone to suffer anything personally from her meddling, especially not a woman as nice to her as Tabi had been. Just as she was fixing to retract her request, intent to say nevermind, Tabi was helping the man in the lounge chair to his feet, twirling his arm around her neck as they walked toward the crowd gathering in the back of the room. 

The haze grew thicker around the smoking men as they lounged against the shadow-cloaked walls, and Sakura bowed to them when Toka stopped and held out his hand smoothly for Sakura to take. Masking her face to conceal her repulsion, Sakura slid her fingers into Toka’s waiting palm and he held her hand above her head to spin her in a half pirouette in front of his curious counterparts. The way each of their eyes clung to different parts of her body had Sakura feeling like she might wretch. 

“Guta Hae,” Toka introduced, dropping her hand as if he were a gentleman. Sakura knew he was anything but. “She’s new here. Tabi asked that I introduce her to you all.”   

Sakura’s eyes fluttered as she feigned shyness, bringing her shoulders innocently up for a small second. 

There were exchanged smiles amongst some of the men as they debated their current choices, but Sakura’s eyes assessed them back, weighing her options and gathering what little intel she could gather from them. At the center of the pack, Sakura’s medical eye immediately located a man with his eyes tightly bound with bandaging. He was quiet as he tilted his ear to appraise her, solemn with two girls on each of his knees as he sat in one of the red, luxuriously tufted high-back chairs. And Sakura marked him as someone of little interest to her despite the initial surprise of his blindness. His injuries could mean several things, either good or bad for her purposes, but Sakura also could tell that whatever had happened to him had potentially wisened him, and Sakura didn’t need to approach that type of person. The fact that his injury potentially revealed his status as a former ninja, put him on Sakura’s radar; but, she also believed he might be worth investigating at a distance. Sakura’s eyes scanned over the rest of their smoking and laughing personas. 

“New in what way?” one of the men joked loudly as the rest of them snickered with shiny, interested eyes. “New here? Or…new, new?”

Sakura wanted to sneer at such a suggestive question, curl her lip and let her inner Sakura bleed through her teeth and down into her firsts. “I’m from the Land of Fire,” she revealed, weighing the various reactions to such a revelation. And several eyes flickered to her, assessing her differently. 

“The Land of Fire?” asked the loud man again as he crossed his arms. “Can’t be Konoha. I’ve never heard of such an establishment in the Leaf. Not recently, anyway.”

The others agreed around him, but Sakura didn’t reveal that answer. She had made her cast, throwing the lure out onto the smoke-infused water, dangling the bait in the crocodile faces of six influential men. By smiling and shrugging her shoulders and keeping the mystery of her origin concealed, Sakura was reeling in that line and establish her own draw.

Sakura moved toward the loud one, painting a saccharine grin on her face. He was going to be the one to spill secrets, Sakura could tell. He had a mouth on him like Naruto. “Are you familiar with Konoha?” Sakura asked him sweetly as she moved into his inner circle, receiving a glare from the woman on his arm. “I’ve never been to the Leaf, but had many patrons from there,” she continued. 

Before she even learned the man’s name, Sakura’s fingers were grasped carefully once again, the same application of force that Toka had just touched her with, and she was being tugged back around to face the group of men. The rougher man with the bandaging around his eyes had stood to retrieve her, reeling her in towards him as if she were the bait on the line. “Don’t waste your time on him. He’s a clown.”

Sakura’s instinctual reaction was to become solid, send chakra to her feet and become as immovable as her inhuman strength would allow her to be. It took her only a millisecond to resolve herself, to recommit to her plan, and Sakura became supple despite her annoyance with the man who felt too important to be overlooked by her. 

The two women who had once sat on his lap were gone and he replaced them with her, pulling her down to sit on his right knee. She still stiffened despite her resolve, realizing once again how dangerous the people were whom she was trying to play with. This guy was lucky, so incredibly lucky that Sakura’s purpose here was not to kill every single one of them. 

“I can tell you about Konoha,” he spoke lowly, a whisper as the conversation resumed around them, as he bent his head into her blackened hair. Sakura could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest as he said, “What is it that you want to know?”

Sakura couldn’t help herself. She turned her left shoulder into him to create more distance as she watched him carefully. “Are you from there?” she asked, wary that this man might be able to recognize her despite her careful disguise. 

“No,” he answered, “but I know several men who are.”

“Are you a ninja?” she questioned again, trying with everything in her to relax into this man’s embrace. Where their bodies touched, Sakura felt as if he were like a boiling acid, searing and burning at the connection points. 

“Have you been with a ninja?” he countered, and Sakura recognized his attempt to avoid answering the question. 

“Who do you think visited my previous establishment in the Land of Fire?” 

He chuckled, a mirthful laugh that lasted a little too long to make anyone comfortable. His next words sent an electricity through her blood. “What I wouldn’t give to see your face as you lie to everyone around you that you’re a sex worker like the rest of them.”

Her eyes grew wide as she checked to see if anyone heard what he had said. Most of the couples had already retired to their rooms, so Sakura forced her breathing into a steady cadence of ease and indifference. She turned to him slowly. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

Her hand was taken lightly into his and she resisted the urge to snatch it back as he guided it to his cheek, splaying her fingers across the side of his head with his own as he grinned wickedly. “Your face was the last thing that I saw before I lost my vision. I’ll never forget the sound of your voice, Haruno Sakura.”

.

.

.

When the door closed behind them, Sakura snatched her hand from the blind man who had lead her privately to one of the sauna rooms where extracurriculars were expected to take place. Sakura’s initial plan for this part was immediately interrupted. Pulling a kunai from her tightly-fitted silk attire, Sakura spun and pinned the mysterious man against the black wood of the closed door, kunai flush against the flesh of his throat. Beyond the slight tilt of his chin skyward, the man had no reaction. 

“Who are you?” she hissed, all pretenses and disguises temporarily dropped. 

The man chuckled against her blade. “It’s not surprising you don’t remember me. The battlefield of the war was so gruesome and so many men at your mercy, my face was one in a sea of millions.”

Sakura couldn’t help but think of Satou, Isao’s father, and Satou’s wife, whom Sakura had failed to save. Isao’s mother, too, had been one of millions. Sakura desperately searched for any recognition and came up blank. She remembered healing hundreds of visual injuries—this man had only been one of them. A heavy weight settled in her gut as she realized, that like all those others, his injuries had most likely been passed off to others because of the minority of them in comparison to those on the brink of dying. Severed appendages, organ damage, bleeding. Going blind was unfortunate, but not life threatening.  

Sakura asked the next obvious question. “Are you one of the people out to kill me?”

“Yes, actually.” He admitted and Sakura pressed the blade deeper, contemplating the pros and cons of killing him on the spot. “But,” he added lightly, avoiding the dipping of his throat against the bite of her kunai’s sharpness. “Since I was lucky enough to find you first, I will make you a deal.”

“Why should I even believe a word out of your mouth?”

“Because you have something that I want,” he answered, a hand coming up to grip her own. But he couldn’t move the fisted blade away because Sakura’s hand was as unmovable as steal as she no longer suppressed her immaculate strength. 

“And what is that?” she interrogated, unperturbed by his words. 

“Your abilities,” he smiled. “Heal my eyes completely, and I’ll help you.”

“I’ve been betrayed once already by a fellow member of yours,” Sakura revealed. “I won’t make the same mistake twice. Trusting you is the last thing I am going to do.”

Another chuckle reverberated up his chest like the swell of a wave in a turbulent ocean. “Then don’t trust me. But I am afraid that you have no other choice to work with me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because all of your friends are being watched carefully. And to your soon-to-be dismay, a certain Uchiha has been identified here within Tanigakure, and he is looking for you. The Zenshin’s plans for him aren’t a part of your plans, are they?”

Sakura’s kunai bounced as her hand shook in surprise at his words and it nicked his throat once before she steadied it. He hissed and pulled harder against her hand, but it still didn’t move. 

“He is here?” Sakura asked in a whisper, a myriad of paths of possibility spidering out from the revelation. Sasuke had followed her. Despite her wishes and despite Kakashi’s promises of keeping Naruto and Sasuke preoccupied, Sasuke had followed her. Not Naruto, but Sasuke. Even if it was out of concern for her, why? Why did he continue to doubt her abilities? Sakura pushed those feelings to the back of her mind as a new thought formed around the name of the organization that wanted to kill her and many others: Zenshin. To advance. Progression. The exact same word that Mako had declared to her in the desert wind only nights ago. She finally had the name. 

“Here and unsuccessful in his search for you, is what I have heard,” came the blind man’s sultry response in her face. “We knew you had to be close if he was here sniffing for you.” 

Damn it. Her plans were already starting to unravel. She was banking on the fact that they might not believe her brave enough to confront them, alone and in their own territory.  “On the off chance you’re actually telling the truth,” Sakura growled, “you lot are absolute fools to underestimate Sasuke. He and Naruto are singlehandedly the strongest shinobi to have ever walked this earth. He will mow you down just as Madara did to the shinobi alliance.”

“What about you?” he asked, a smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth despite the knife still secured against his flesh, nearly vibrating with the energy it was taking Sakura not to silence him permanently. “How strong are you?”

In the next movement, Sakura sheathed the weapon and relaxed her face into a smile of her own. “I am not far behind them.”

The blind man instinctively rubbed his neck where her kunai had been, smearing the pinpricks of blood there. “You’re lucky that even blind, my senses are sharper than my companions’,” he spoke, seriousness replacing the nervous humor of his previous persona. “By claiming you first, I have saved you from the lions you were prowling amongst just outside.” 

“Which ones in the sitting room are a part of ‘Zenshin’?” Sakura asked, and her eyes grew terribly wide at the next admission from his mouth.  

“Why, all of them,” he laughed once again. 

All of them? If the man had been able to see, he would have noticed that Sakura’s face had drained of all color. Sakura’s mental efforts doubled as she began to cross out steps of her plan and recalculate, following the conceptual intricate spiderweb of possible effects from each detour she could potentially plan for. 

He took a step toward her. “And all of them were already suspecting your identity the very minute Toka introduced you. I happen to be the only one present who has ever heard your voice. My actions to grab your attention will have interested them even more. I’ll have to explain what I did tonight. Your next move will determine the words that will come out of my mouth.” 

Sakura nodded, still silently assessing her options, before she said, “remove the bandage.”

The man hesitated, as if he was almost unsure if he wanted her to see what lie beneath. He only hesitated for a moment before fingering the white bandage. He walked toward her until he was only a few feet ahead of her. When the bandage slipped down to reveal his eye sockets, Sakura frowned at the unblemished nature of them. Not an external injury that could be healed, then. She had been hoping for cataracts or some other resolvable issue via procedure.

He flinched as she touched his temples, tilting his head back so Sakura could peer into them. She summoned her chakra to her fingertips and pressed exploratory chakra into them. He gasped at the invasion when her chakra made contact with his flesh, and his hand came up to grasp on to Sakura’s wrist.

“I’m only investigating the injury,” Sakura reassured him.    

“I know,” he frowned. “You did so once before. You told me there was little that could be done.”

Sakura nodded, feeling dread at her past self’s words. If she had not been able to heal them, she suspected no one could. Sakura suddenly recalled the shinobi war and Kakashi sensei, whose eye had been torn from his eye socket by Madara and then restored by Naruto, through his perfected Ying-Yang release through the sun seal given to him by Hagoromo. Naruto was not only able to restore Kakashi’s eye from nothing, but he had also been able to revive Obito after the extractions of the Ten Tales, and accomplish other grand healing feats during the war in the duration of which he had possessed the seal. Both Naruto and Sasuke relinquished their Sun and Moon seals when they sealed Kaguya. That sort of healing power was gone now. 

Sakura possessed and could control both Yin and Yang chakra due to her healing training under Tsunade and her natural affinity for genjutsus. Even with Sakura’s near perfect control of chakra, she could not use Yin and Yang simultaneously as Naruto had done with Hagoromo’s seal.  

“Are you able to see anything at all? Lights? Shadows? Shapes?” There was a big difference between being blind and being visually impaired. While others saw nothing but darkness, some could still make out some glimpses of their surroundings.  

“Nothing. Not since the war.”

Sakura frowned as she searched the eyes with her chakra. The eyes themselves were undamaged. The optic nerves intact. The retinas whole. They were clear in appearance, with startling dark irises. Black, like Sasuke’s. No clouding. There was only one possible cause left: brain damage.

Sakura frowned at how hopeless the situation was. “Do you have any pain?”

“No,” he answered. “Would pain be a good sign? That the body is trying to heal?”

Sakura winced at his train of thought. People often believed that pain meant the body was trying to repair itself, and that if there was no pain, it meant one of two things: the body was not damaged, or whatever healing was to be done was complete. This was not the case for many injuries. If he was experiencing pain, it might just indicate a different type of injury. Saying he had no pain was just strengthening Sakura’s suspicion.

Reaching to cup the back of his head, Sakura pushed her fingertips into his scalp. He winced at the contact. 

“Were you hit in the back of the head during the war? Is that how you lost your vision?”

He nodded, grinding down his teeth as she determined the truth he hadn’t offered freely. Brain damage was irreversible. Sakura could not create new pathways for nerves. She felt the dead-end her chakra reached after traveling down the optic nerves. The visual cortexes of the occipital lobe at the very back of the brain was no longer receiving signals from the eye. Sakura suspected that he probably had been told this by multiple healers and was hoping she would arrive at a different conclusion. 

“What’s your name?” she asked, feigning medical indifference to his injury. She wasn’t ready to reveal her deductions while he was still in the mood to answer her questions.

“You can call me Rugo. It’s what the others call me.” 

Sakura nodded, understanding why he wasn’t going to divulge his real identity to her. She decided not to ask what village he was from originally, which was going to be her next question. Tanigakure had been neutral in the war, and since he had allegedly fought in the war, he had either migrated here after the war, or he came to be a part of Zenshin mission, specifically. 

“How many members of Zenshin are ninja from other villages?” she questioned instead while she still had the opportunity. 

He hesitated for a moment, before admitting. “Most of them.” Sakura frowned at that. Just how many ninja had been unsatisfied with their lives after the war that they believed healing the grievances of the next generation stood in the way of progression?

“Is your vision loss why you joined Zenshin?” she asked boldly, trying her best to understand his particular motives. Something as significant as blindness could make the kindest of people bitter. If that was the source of his bitterness, Sakura didn’t understand why he wanted to allow such anger spread for the sake of strength and progression in the next generation of ninja.

He did not answer at first, but then said. “Yes. It is the reason. But I did not join Zenshin to prevent you and others from healing the trauma of ninja. I joined to find you. You are the only one who can help me now.” 

Sakura sighed at his confession and pulled her hands away, but Rugo caught them desperately, a sharp contrast to his cocky charisma. “If you can heal them, I’ll help you. Don’t tell me what the other healers say. I know that you can fix this.”

Sakura pulled her hands free, hesitant to disappoint him. She fumbled silently in her pocket for an item that she had prepared for the next phase of this night once she was alone in this room with whichever man was unlucky enough to become her recipient, even though it hadn’t exactly happened how she had planned.

“I am sorry Rugo. Brain damage cannot be reveresed. I cannot heal them.”

The man frowned deeply at her words, shaking his head. He was not expecting the sharp prick in his neck that came next. Sakura pushed down on the plunger that pushed the harmless sedative into his bloodstream. Ironically, as a medic, Sakura couldn’t help but notice the widening of his eyes as the muscles registered his surprise, which indicated that the cerebellum, the separate part of the brain in control of muscles still operated perfectly. He crashed to his knees before falling forward as she caught him. 

She wished she had the time to tell him that he was lucky, so incredibly lucky to only have lost his vision from the type of head injury that he had received. If any other parts of the brain had been damaged, he would have likely lost his ability to speak, to control his muscles, to walk; he could have become paralyzed. Maybe, if he were still alive, they could have this conversation in the future after she executed her plan. 

Sakura was only a little disappointed that she hadn’t been able to accept Rugo’s offer of assistance as an inside source, after all. Whether or not he had intended to, the Zenshin member had already given her the information she was looking for. And Sakura never really needed anyone’s help anyway. Not Rugo’s. And not Sasuke’s, either.

Only when Sakura turned on the tap water for the bath that wouldn’t be used after all, and she was certain the sound of it would keep her from being disturbed by the head matron, did Sakura bite into her flesh. Blood pooling at the tip of her finger, Sakura placed her thumb against her palm and pushed her five fingers into the ground, performing the summoning technique. 

“Lady Katsuyu,” Sakura greeted the small slug, 1/1000th of her original body, that began to climb its way over the legs of the man she had just incapacitated. 

Sakura knelt, using her blood smeared finger to trace an intricate symbol on Rugo’s temple. The blood pooling where she had traced, and small trails hastily dissected from the main paths to trickle down into the hair at his temples. “You’re certain this will work?” Sakura asked the human-size slug that reached up to cover the man’s unmoving face with her body. 

“It should,” Katuyu reassured her. “The blood is just an extra step of assurance. I should be able to do this on my own without it.”

Sakura nodded, sparing the little extra chakra it took to stop the blood flowing freely from her thumb without completely healing it. She was going to have to repeatedly break the skin there as the night continued, so growing new skin was not needed.  “This is the first of many.”

“Sakura, dear,” Katsuyu responded as the slug divided into an even smaller version of herself and slipped into Sakura’s outstretched palm while the main body completely consumed the man Sakura had incapacitated.  “Please be careful.”

 “Of course, milady. I’m sorry for what you will witness from this moment on.” She tucked the slug away into the hem of her robe’s neckline. 

Sakura opened the door to her room and turned to stare down the hallway at all the closed doors concealing the fellow members of Zenshin. 

.

.

.

It was the sheer lack of activity that he was witnessing in his observation spots that first alerted Sasuke that something wasn’t quite right. In every town, if someone positioned themselves correctly, there would be brawling to spectate, scandals to witness, information to gather, but not in Tanigakure, apparently. The last twenty-four hours had been surprisingly uneventful in comparison to his first pass through when Sasuke and Sakura had been ambushed in their sleep. It was odd, how quickly they had been identified the first time in Tanigakure, but Sasuke had yet to be approached. Yes, he had been more discreet than before, but Sasuke was starting to feel annoyed both with his lack of progress in finding Sakura’s whereabouts and this organizations inability to notice his whereabouts. 

That was, until he noticed that nothing around him was particularly noticeable. Ah, he realized. So I have been discovered. It was the only explanation for how fruitless his efforts had been to acquire any real intel about an organization fixated on killing his friend. Sasuke realized immediately that he was purposefully not being fed anything helpful. It only unnerved him when he realized just how many people must be in this group if the multitudes of people he currently watched from above were being intentionally silent. Sasuke also surmised that whatever organization this was, they were also dodging interest from the leaders of Tanigakure. They, too, were trying to fly under the radar.

And so, Sasuke waited in the night, perched above the noisy izakaya once more, rain pattering against his cloak and bouncing from the brim of his black hood, content to play his role while he schemed. He contemplated doing something unexpected just to shake things up, but what would they consider unexpected? Sasuke tried to see this situation for their perspective. This organization knew that Sasuke had followed his pink-haired friend here, and that he was searching for her. They knew that Sasuke had retreated the last time he was here, whisking Sakura away in order to protect them both. They knew he was trying to be discreet so as not to cause any problems for Konoha. With that information, Sasuke deduced that they expected him to continue to look for Sakura, sit and listen discreetly until he located her, interrupt her mission to take her away. They were allowing him to do just as they expected him to in order not to alert him. 

To their extreme disappointment, Sasuke was smarter than everyone involved in this ridiculous plan to distract him. 

And so, Sasuke covered his face tightly. He planned to throw a wrench into the plan, discreetly, while still sending a very strong message to those he assumed lurked in the rain-cloaked shadows. And it wasn’t going to cost him very much chakra. 

Unfortunately for them, thunder rumbled above him, and Sasuke inhaled the energy of the surrounding atmosphere. Unlike in his battle with Itachi, Sasuke did not have to manipulate the air with Amaterasu in order to manipulate the cumulonimbus clouds into existence. They brooded over him regardless, as if his very frustration manifested into the storm that now cast the village in a torrential downpour. For once, Sasuke saw it as a sign that the universe might actually be on his side, that his decision regarding a future with Sakura might have been the right one. One worth destroying a few buildings for. 

And he did exactly that. Sasuke wasn’t entirely his former revenge-seeking self, one bent on the destruction of an entire village, but he smirked dangerously as a flash of lightning struck the infuriatingly useless izakaya. A lightning bolt strikes in 1/1000th of a second, and the explosion happened first. Sasuke waited on the sound to follow before he let out one quick laugh to himself. Sasuke inhaled as if it were the first real breath he had in a long while; it felt so good to let go, to cave to destruction. To push things back into motion and take control of a situation. 

As expected, people ran from the building, some attempting to put out the small fire in the ceiling, while others ducked for cover back into other structures and away from the smoking rooftop. The heavy rain assisted in putting it out very quickly, causing minimal damage. 

It wouldn’t draw enough attention from those who didn’t know that the lightning wasn’t entirely one of nature’s unfortunate disasters. Only those who were watching him as closely as he was suspecting, would realize that Sasuke was done waiting. 

When two ninja landed on either side of him, Sasuke’s Sharningan glowed in the dark as he leaned his head back against the building, arm slung forward over one reclined knee. His Sharingan darted to each of the two men, seeing what no one else could see in the blinding shower and muddled night. Two shinobi, faces covered, stood before him, proudly adorning two headbands with that insufferable five-spiral symbol he’d seen the last time he was here and more recently glimpsed from Mako’s memories. 

“Finally,” the Uchiha breathed as he rolled his neck. 

At his words, the two ninja, obviously assigned to monitor him, glanced at each other in surprise. Sasuke saw it cross their faces: the moment they realized they had been outplayed and forced to show themselves. 

The air, now electrified, lashed out on its own and more lightning crackled in the air above them. In one lightning flash, Sasuke sat unmoving against the building’s side. In the very next, he had swapped with one of the men, teleporting places with him. Timing his movements with the crash of thunder, Sasuke grabbed the second by the neck and hurtled him into the first, smashing their bodies together. Sasuke justified his next actions based on two things: his low levels of chakra and the fact that he had one arm to handle two ninja at once. His katana spun free of its sheath before either men could even react to their sudden collision, and Sasuke skewered them on his blade, penetrating one through the shoulder and the other through the bicep until they were pinned together against the elevated section of the roof. They cried out in unison but their noises didn’t echo beyond the very next crack of lightning that Sasuke generated somewhere in the distance, its very purpose to disguise their screams. 

Releasing the blade, Sasuke knelt before them in the pouring blackness, just so that they could see a glaring set of red and purple irises. He wouldn’t waste his limited chakra combing through their deranged minds, so Sasuke planned to interrogate his preferred way and do it thoroughly. “Where is she?”

“We don’t know who you’re talking ab—,” came the automatic lie, and Sasuke twisted the blade immediately in disguised fury. He was not in the mood to listen to deceptions. The thunder boomed. 

Sasuke sighed. Sometimes it was the most predictable outcomes that tipped Sasuke over into an all-consuming sea of annoyance. If he treaded this sea too long, Sasuke would tire and eventually sink, and the Uchiha was already too well-acquainted with the depths of anger. If he hit the bottom, people would begin to die. And Sasuke didn’t want to be a murderer anymore if he could help it. Steadying himself, Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose and said lowly, “I would advise not bothering to waste my time with more lies. It won’t end well for you.”

“We don’t know,” spat the first man as he clutched at the katana penetrating through his arm. “The lightshow is unnecessary. Someone needs to put you in your place, Uchiha, for using your power in this village.” 

So that was it. As long as Sasuke was laying low, they were planning to leave him to his futile attempts to find Sakura. They didn’t want the real authority alerted to his presence because then Sasuke would talk, explain his presence and involve the real people in charge of this village. That, or there was deal with the higherups. If the village leaders knew of this organzaiton’s activity, they had allowed it to transpire as long as it remained inconspicuous. All of this information told Sasuke that the less evident of a profile this organization could keep, the better. Sasuke suspected that Tanigakure didn’t want multiple villages involved, but were somehow benefiting personally from this arrangement. Sasuke guessed that this secret organization also wanted to eliminate more reputable individuals off their list before they were confronted by multiple parties. It was a testament to their lack of experience and firepower if they had yet to eliminate Number 1 and had already pissed off two out of the five Kage. 

“Last chance to be honest,” Sasuke hissed, twisting the blade deeper into both of their bodies, relishing the squelch of the blade’s movements in their flesh.

“We lost her!” the man in the very back hissed, spitting out rainwater, holding his partner very still with his clenched fists to keep him from jostling the weapon any further. “And many of our men, with her.”

Sasuke unfeelingly blinked at that confession. 

“Shut your mouth,” the front man said to the fellow soldier behind him, jostling the both of them as he tried to shift in order to look back at him. 

“Stop moving!” the man in the back hissed, grabbing more firmly to the man seated practically in his lap. 

They had already located and lost her? The mention of other members of their organization going missing was the part that had Sasuke’s mind trying to make connections. Sasuke wasn’t sure if this was a trap. He had expected it to be a lot more difficult to receive any answers from anyone. So, what was the angle? Did they intend to follow Sasuke to her after telling him that? There would be no chance of that happening; Sasuke would quickly ensure it. 

Inhaling, filling his lungs with electric energy, Sasuke reached forward and gripped the hilt of his katana. The current came from his lungs when he exhaled and it snaked around his arm in a circuiting slither, crisscrossing down the blade until a surge of electricity connected with their open wounds. Another crack of lightning, closer this time. More screaming. 

It had been a very long time since Sasuke had used this technique to simultaneously torture and weaken his captive. He remembered performing this very move on Yamato, the temporary squad leader for Team 7 when they had come searching for Sasuke in one of Orochimaru’s underground hideouts. How ironic that he had once felt the same level of annoyance that he was now, but it had been directed at Team 7. And now. Now, it was because these imbeciles had the absolute audacity to come after one of them, as if any member of Team 7 could be taken down by such dirt beneath their feet. As if Sasuke didn’t have the absolute power to obliterate every single one of them without a second thought. 

“Enough,” Sasuke growled lowly, forcing himself to talk more than he was usually inclined to do. “This current will intensify over the course of two minutes until you are essentially executed by electrocution. Which means you have two minutes to answer my questions without lying. If I even suspect a lie, lightning will travel straight to your heart before two minutes is even up.”  

Their eyes widened, and Sasuke moved out of the path of the rain running down the slope of the roof towards him, until he was free of any electrified water that connected with their bodies. 

“First question,” Sasuke began, thickening the electricity traveling through his arm to his blade. “Where was her last known location?”

“The bathhouse,” groaned the man in the back, the more talkative of the two. “The brothel.”

Despite his usual collected countenance, Sasuke’s red and purple eyes widened marginally at such a word. A brothel? A brothel? A new fire quickly formed in Sasuke’s chest at the revelation, and it was not the lightning-style chakra centralized there. It was a fire of panic and rage. 

“When?” Sasuke asked next, amping up the voltage once more. The man in front, the first to receive electrical current, slumped forward unconscious.

“Earlier in the night,” the guy mumbled, lips beginning to numb with the rest of his body. His words still came out in a rush, however, eager to meet Sasuke’s deadline, before he, too, ended up like his partner. “Our leaders failed to give us our next orders at our usual rendezvous point. We arrived at the bathhouse, their last known location, to investigate—the other girls. They told us she had taken them.” 

“Where is this bathhouse?” came Sasuke’s final question.

“Promise you will spare me, first,” the man pleaded, but Sasuke’s frustration only grew at the begging. Instead of assuring the man, Sasuke twisted his blade again. 

After the scream, came the answer to his question. “On the eastside, against the mountain.” This man, too, fell unconscious, slumping against his partner, when Sasuke poured more electricity into his chest cavity. Sasuke ripped his blade free from their bodies. 

He left them there in the rain, feeling absolutely no guilt at all because they would at least eventually wake up. Unlike every man who had occupied Sakura’s space in a godforsaken brothel, these two men were lucky because they would keep their lives. 

[darthpastry]

Incorrect Quotes of the Kingdom Pt. 6 (Ft. FNaf)

Ganondorf: You played me like a fiddle.

Link: Actually no, fiddles are quite hard to play, and I am not smart enough to do so. I played you like the cheap kazoo you are.

--------------------------------------------

Rauru: I wish I had a tight-knit group of friends to fight crime with.

Tulin: I wish I had a tight-knit group of friends to commit crime with.

Gregory: I wish a had a tight-knit group of friends.

Roxy: I wish I had friends.

Link: I wish I could knit.

--------------------------------------------

Purah: Link has no survival instincts. I think he was born without them.

Rauru: That can't be true!

Purah: Oh yeah? I'll prove it. Hey, Link! Race you downstairs!

Link: *Jumps out the window of a three-story building.*

--------------------------------------------

Link: Can you be quiet? I'm trying to think.

Revali: Yeah, no worries. Doing anything for the first time can be difficult.

--------------------------------------------

Link: Why stop at capitalism? Destroy everything.

Gregory: *Holding an unlabeled cardboard box.* Way ahead of you.

--------------------------------------------

Michael Afton: How are you alive?

William Afton: How are you alive?

Michael Afton: Fair point.

--------------------------------------------

Ganondorf: Open up RIGHT NOW!

Link: It started when I was six years old...

Ganondorf: I MEANT THE DOOR. OPEN THE DOOR!

--------------------------------------------

Mipha: Why would anyone want to harm Link?

Revali: Maybe because they met him?

--------------------------------------------

Gregory: Do you have any idea what you're doing?

Link: *Gluing several broken STAFF bots together to make a fortress* Why start now?

--------------------------------------------

Link: HYDRATE OR DIE-DRATE!

Gregory: *Aggressively throwing water bottles.*

Glamrock Freddy: Uh... what's up with them?

Purah: They're trying to yell mental health and well-being into all of us.

Tulin: I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU!

Vanessa: *crying* It's working.

--------------------------------------------

Link: So, you like cats?

Zelda: Yeah.

Link: *tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass of water off the table*

--------------------------------------------

Gregory: Are you a boy or girl?

Mangle: I am a failure.

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Rauru: I'M ADOPTING LINK AND YOU COWARDS CAN'T TELL ME NO!

--------------------------------------------

Gregory: Do you ever feel like there's a bug on you when there isn't?

Link: Those are the ghosts of bugs you killed before.

--------------------------------------------

Link: I've done a lot of dumb stuff.

Sidon: I've witnessed the dumb stuff.

Tulin: I recorded the dumb stuff.

Gregory: I joined in on the dumb stuff.

Rauru: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF.

--------------------------------------------

Gregory: I've never seen snow. Can you describe it to me?

Link: Smells like water.

Gregory: It's just like I'm there.

--------------------------------------------

Vanessa: Why are my hands shaky?

Gregory: Your skeleton is ready to hatch. Congratulations.

Vanessa: This is so ominous, thank you.

--------------------------------------------

Link: Can I offer you a nice apple in this trying time?

--------------------------------------------

Gregory: How the heck do I talk to people?

Link: Stand in front of them and press A.

--------------------------------------------

Tulin: OUR MILKSHAKES BRING ALL THE BEES TO THE CAR!

Gregory: WE SPILLED.

Tulin: ALL OVER THE CAR.

Gregory: BEES ARE.

Tulin: INSIDE THE CAR.

Gregory: THEY COULD KILL US.

Tulin: WE ARE ALLERGIC TO BEES.

--------------------------------------------

Tulin: You know how we're made of atoms and atoms never touch each other?

Gregory: So, you see, there's no way Link could've punched Revali.

--------------------------------------------

Link: When people say my name, I'm like... "can't believe I exist."

--------------------------------------------

Link: I am 39 cheetos tall.

Zelda: You're measuring your height in cheetos?

Link: Yeah, we ran out of doritos.

--------------------------------------------

Gregory: WAKEY WAKEY EGGS AND BAKEY!

Vanessa: But I'm a vegan.

Gregory: Wakey wakey vegetables and sadness.

--------------------------------------------

Glamrock Freddy: Everyone, sychronize your watches.

Glamrock Chica: I don't know how to do that.

Monty: I don't have a watch.

Roxy: Neither do I.

Tulin, Gregory, and Link: *Crash through wall in go-kart, wearing 8-bit sunglasses.*

Link: REALITY IS A CONSTRUCT AND TIME IS AN ILLUSION!

--------------------------------------------

Gregory: Underestimate me. It'll be fun.

--------------------------------------------

Sidon: I'm genuinely surprised you haven't gotten arrested, let alone gotten a felony yet.

Link: *finger guns* Nat 20 charisma.

Riju: That is NOT how it works.

--------------------------------------------

Rauru: Link, I am beginning to question your sanity.

Link: *Running to fight a lynel with nothing but tree branches and 4 apples* Really? I always knew it was never there.

--------------------------------------------

Zelda: What would you do if you were scrolling through Tumblr and someone you didn't know had posted a picture of your dad with a caption that says "hate this guy so much"?

Michael: Reblog it. Duh.

--------------------------------------------

Random BotW NPC: The first time I saw you, you stole my heart.

Link: I'm a kleptomaniac. That doesn't mean anything.

--------------------------------------------

Rauru: When Link was washing dishes, he kept pushing glasses under water saying stuff like "Who do you work for? Who's your contact?!"

Sonia: At least he's having fun?

--------------------------------------------

Glamrock Freddy: Go to the charging station to rest or you'll hate yourself in the morning.

Roxy: I already hate myself.

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Link: Remember to drink water!

Revali: No.

Link: Then become the dirt I walk on!

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Tulin: *Takes free sample twice.* Robbery and fraud. I am a rebel.

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Link: When I get murdered can you make sure it's an unsolved case?

Zelda: Wh-what?

Link: I wanna be on Buzzfeed Unsolved.

Zelda: Cann we go back to the part where you said "when I get murdered"?

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Charlie Emily: Don't joke about murder. I was murdered once and it offends me.

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Link: I creep around the house like a spooky little entity. Standing in doorways and making an entire pack of biscuits disappear in the night.

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Roxy: Why do I always tell people I'm cool? I'm so uncool.

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Revali: I have issues.

Link: Finally, you admit it! The first step to being a better person-

Revali: With you.

Link: Fair enough.

--------------------------------------------

Zelda: When I said bring me back something from the beach, I meant a seashell!

Link: *Struggling to hold a seagull.* Would've been nice if you TOLD me that!

--------------------------------------------

Gregory: Money... is like president trading cards.

Vanessa: Gregory, I told you to go to bed half an hour ago.

--------------------------------------------

Link:  I like wearing oversized sweaters. Not just because they're extremely comfy and cuddly, but because whenever the sleeves are really big, I get to flop them around and smack people.

--------------------------------------------

Link: What's up. I'm back.

Ganondorf: You're dead! I saw you die!

Link: Death is a social construct.

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Link: What would your dad say if he found it?

Tulin: What if we run a little experiment where we find out what happens if we never tell him?

Link: Deal.

--------------------------------------------

Riju: Where did Link go?

Tulin: He got arrested.

Sidon: What for this time?

Link: *Bursts through the window.* The cops are after me. I thought it would be funny to steal crackers and throw them at people.

--------------------------------------------

Link: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

Rauru: Those are your wanted posters!

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Vanessa: Remember, curiosity killed the cat.

Link: And satisfaction brought it back. So yes Gregory, go find out if that thing catches fire.

Vanessa: You're a bad influence.

Link: And you don't know your sayings.

--------------------------------------------

Vanessa: Go to bed.

Gregory: But-

Vanessa: *Cocks gun.* This is no longer a request. This is a threat.

--------------------------------------------

Revali: Imagine being stupid. Like Link.

Link: Excuse me?

Revali: You're excused.

Link: What was the point in calling me stupid?

Revali: I just thought you needed a reminder.

Mipha: I don't think Link is stupid. I think they're very clever.

Revali: Nobody asked.

--------------------------------------------

Michael Afton: I have no emotions.

Elizabeth: You cried watching Bambi.

Evan: And the Lion King.

Charlie: And Moana.

Michael: Okay, how about we all shut up.

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Purah: Link, we need to talk about your will.

Link: Why? What's wrong with it?

Purah: All it says is "bury me with extra bones to mess with archeologists lol".

Link: Yeah, and?

--------------------------------------------

Gregory: I wholeheartedly believe in settling this disagreement like adults

Link: So... rock paper scissors?

Gregory: Exactly.

[rhysand-vs-fenrys]

So is that like it for Payu and Rain? Is there an epilogue beyond what the show has?

Depending on where you're watching LITA, there is an episode 14 that is an epilogue of sorts. It takes place... I want to say a year later, but might not be that long. Like, a year from where LITA began, but only 6 months from the end of Love Sky?

There is also a special novel. Love in the Air is 2 novels combined, Love Storm and Love Sky. The special novel came out with the show and is more written for the show, adapting actor descriptions for the characters and mannerisms and such.

Some epilogue info for Payu and Rain from that::

Rain's parents never care that he's with a guy, they love Payu.

Rain goes to get a drink of water in his boxers one night and Payu's mother is just THERE. She has known about Rain since the morning after they first had sex, so like, episode 4.

Once Rain is near graduation, Payu quits his job to start his own architectural firm and asks Rain to become his partner. Rain rejects him because he doesn't want a job he doesn't think he's qualified for, he wants to work and build his skill first.

2 years pass, Rain is at a firm (maybe Payu's old one) in charge of several huge projects. Payu's business is doing well, but Payu and Rain are both drowning. It gets to a point where they haven't seen each other more than in passing in months.

Payu asks again if Rain will work with him so they can at least be together, and Rain happily agrees (he's been waiting for Payu to ask).

Payu actually cries, he's so happy.

Payu's first big solo project finally completes, it's been 2 years or so from design to final construction.

After the reception celebrating the grand opening of the space, Payu proposes to Rain, and they get engaged, marrying soon after.

(Their engagement scene is a cameo within Wedding Plan, another story in Mame (the author's) extended universe (show not worth watching, cameos are in ep 1 (Sky and Pai) and Ep 3 (Rain and Payu))

That's a general summary, the Love in the Air special novel takes place over 7-8 years, jumping as it pleases.