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halogalopaghost · 1 year ago

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M.I.L.C.

read on AO3

WARNING: MUTANT MAYHEM SPOILERS

When the turtles came to, their first thought was danger.

Leo lifted his head and tried to blink away the blurry double vision. His right temple pounded in time with his heartbeat, ears ringing in the absence of sound. Donnie was on his right, Raph on his left, and the smear of orange beyond him must have been Mikey. Good, they hadn’t been separated.

“What…where are we?”

He tried to raise his hand to his head and met resistance in the form of a metal cuff over his wrist. He was upright, he began to realize, and only the shackles around his wrists, ankles, and middle were holding him up.

Raph must have had that epiphany about the same time, because he started thrashing against the restraints. “Hey! Hey, let us outta here!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

They all stilled at the echoey voice. There were footsteps to go with it, somewhere beyond the bright halo of light beaming down on them. They all squinted into the darkness anyway.

“Who are you?” Leo called out. He tried not to let his voice waver too badly.

Leo’s back arched, as much as it could inside his shell, and his head reared back to slam into the cold metal behind him. He lost all control of his body, and he tasted something metallic in his mouth—like when Raph used to dare him to eat spare change they found beneath sidewalk grates. Everything went white.

When the pain eased into tingling numbness, he fell slack against the restraints. His chin dropped to his chest, and he gasped for air. He was only vaguely aware of his brothers calling his name.

“I’m okay,” he slurred. A drop of blood fell from his mouth to the sterile white floor.

“Rule number one: I’m the one asking questions here.” The footsteps rounded the machine behind them, slipping even further from view.

Raph struggled to turn further and see their captor, face twisted up in anger like they’d never seen before. “Hey! You better—” his voice was cut off by a breathless choke as he succumbed to the same writhing as Leo had.

It was electrocution, he realized. Whoever this guy was, he was electrocuting them like cattle.

Mikey struggled desperately, face twisted up like he was the one being electrocuted. “Stop! Stop it!”

Leo couldn’t do anything but watch as Mikey got his own dose. Donnie whimpered; too scared to speak, too scared to remain silent.

With three of four turtles just trying to catch their breath, the footsteps finally drew close enough to illuminate their captor.

He was tall, taller than any human they’d fought yet, wearing a suit so dark that he was almost camouflaged by the rest of the room. Only his white shirt and blood red tie stood out. He had slicked back hair, a cruel smile, and dark glasses over his eyes. In his hand was a remote with several unlabeled buttons, and his thumb hovered over it threateningly.

“Welcome to TCRI, creatures.”

“What’s—”

He raised the remote, and Leo flinched back instinctively.

“It’ll do you well to be silent unless you’re given express permission to talk. And don’t worry, you will be talking.” He clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing again. “It stands for The Techno-Cosmic Research Institute. I’m director of the EPF division—or Earth Protection Force, and I’ve been charged with extracting information from the four of you.”

The four brothers looked between each other. What information could they possibly have that the government would want?

“When your resolve crumbles and you begin to cry for mercy, you may call me Bishop.”

“Like chess,” Donnie mumbled. His brothers all shot him a sharp look.

Bishop either didn’t hear him, or chose to ignore him. Either way, he stopped pacing again and turned to face them. “Before we begin, you may ask one question each.”

Through a series of vague hand gestures, eyerolls, head tilts, and no small amount of teeth bared, the four of them came to the conclusion that Donnie would go first. He sighed at length.

“Uhh…if you’re studying cosmic technology, how come we’re here? Like, what do we have to do with this?”

They all cried out as Bishop’s finger came down on one of the buttons, and Donnie spasmed silently. His glasses slipped from his snout and fell to the floor, skittering off into the dark.

“Stop!”

“He was just clarifying!”

“Yeah he just does that, he didn’t mean to!”

Donnie wheezed, limp in his restraints and eyes rolling around in his head. He was the smallest of them all, he couldn’t take too much more of that. At the risk of their own health, they all murmured to him to try to revive him and get him to respond. He gave a weak thumbs-up and all three of them sagged with relief.

Bishop put a hand to his chin. “A bonded pack. Fascinating.”

“We’re brothers,” Raph asserted, chin held high with defiance, “and if you don’t stop picking on ‘em I’ll shove that remote so far up—”

Bishop turned away disinterestedly while Raph convulsed. It only lasted a moment. “And adolescent,” he sneered. He disappeared into the dark, only the sound of typing and the faint glow of a screen to hint at what he was doing.

Leo gathered himself up to speak, every muscle in his body tensed in anticipation of another shock. "Do we still get to ask our questions?"

There was a pause. "Yes. The red and orange ones may ask a question each. I assume you don't need me to advise caution after the purple one's display."

Leo's throat ached to tell this guy that they had names. They weren't just...animals! The knot of anxiety in his stomach only grew.

Raph stared into the dark as he considered his question. He had to make it matter, he had to ask something that Leo and Donnie would think of: something to do with…strategy, or something. There was only one pressing question in his mind though, and it kept pushing and pushing at him until he finally broke. “If we help you, are you gonna let us go?”

“That’s not up to me.”

His heart sank in his chest.

Mikey didn’t need to think about his question. “Can the others go if only one of us has the information?”

Bishop laughed. “Good try. You four are admirably loyal, I must admit, but no one is leaving this facility. Now, blue one, tell me your names and ages.”

Leo wanted to comply. His head ached, his muscles kept twitching sporadically, and his skin was already chafing against the cuffs. He was beyond sick of watching his brothers get hurt. More than anything, he was in over his head.

But when their dad looked the four of them in the eyes, each in turn, and asked who wanted to be in charge—who wanted to hold the safety of their family in the palm of his hand, he stepped up. He shouldered the burden, he was in charge of these bozos when they left the lair, not this Bishop guy.

“I will tell you everything and stay here, I won’t even try to escape, only if you let my brothers go home.”

There was a resounding silence, and for a triumphant moment, Leo thought Bishop was considering it. Then came the tempered sound of his footsteps on the tile, and he mounted the platform that held them with startling speed. Leo tried not to flinch when he came to stand toe-to-toe with him. From this close, he could see the dark, calculating eyes behind the glasses.

“Let me make one thing clear, creature. You disgust me. You’re an unnatural, ungodly sin against nature, and letting you roam free is an oversight that won’t be repeated. I do not bargain with your kind.” He took a step back and looked at them as a group. “From now on, your punishment will be carried out on your brothers. You may cry for mercy, but I am not a merciful man.”

Bishop turned and stepped off the platform, reaching into his pocket.

“No! Wait—” As Bishop retreated into the dark, all three of Leo’s brothers began to writhe. “Stop! Please, I’m sorry! Please,” his voice cracked and broke, then faded into nothing as his brothers’ bodies relaxed again.

“I’m sorry guys,” he whispered. Despite trying, he couldn’t hold back the hot tears on his face. His throat ached with the effort anyway. “We were wrong, we were so, so wrong about humans. I never should have let this go so far.”

“It’s not your fault,” Raph murmured shakily. “At least we’re here together.”

Bishop cleared his throat. “Names and ages.”

Leo supplied the information mechanically. Even though his brothers held the same head-hung-low, defeated posture, he couldn't help but feel like he was betraying them. He remembered just a few days ago when he'd told on them to Dad—he'd regretted it instantly, but that feeling was nothing compared to this. Dad would be so disappointed in him.

Would he ever even get to see his father again?

Bishop came strolling into the light again and Leo's fists clenched. Raph shook with anger and unspent energy beside him, just waiting for a chance, any chance, to get a shot in at this guy. For once, none of his brothers felt like that was a problem.

Bishop pinned them under his gaze, just staring for a long while. Mikey really started to feel antsy—he didn't like sitting still even when he wasn't stressed beyond belief.

"Where are the rest of the mutants?"

Oh shit, that was information they did actually know. Leo cast his gaze to the ground. Donnie always said he could read his expression like a book and this guy was sure to be able to do the same. A part of him wondered, if they told Bishop Superfly's plans, would he be able to stop them?

No, he couldn't risk it. Even though they might be a little genocidal, they were mutants. They were kind of like cousins. And if he gave up that information, they'd all end up in the very same situation.

"Well?"

Leo shook his head. "I don't know."

All three of his brothers jolted with a shock. Not enough to incapacitate them, rather, just enough to make them cry out.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Michelangelo. Perhaps you'd like to tell me where the mutants are."

"I ain't no snitch," he loudly declared.

The other three jolted.

"Tell 'em, Mikey!" Raph yelled. His voice echoed in the room.

Bishop snarled. All four of them writhed under another shock. He must be turning it up, it hurt worse every time he did it. How long could they really keep this up?

"My chest hurts," Donnie murmured.

"You can make this stop, Donatello. You have the power to save your brothers from this suffering. Just tell me where the other mutants are."

He met Bishop's gaze with a glare. "No way."

Leo winced, waiting for the shock, but it didn't come. He opened his eyes and watched Bishop instead step down from the platform and into the darkness. Leo didn't dare get too hopeful; no way was this over.

Bishop didn't disappoint. He brought back a small steel table and slammed it down in front of Donnie. They all cried out in unison as they caught sight of the garish surgical instruments.

"He's gonna dissect us!" Mikey wailed.

"Dude we're turtles, not frogs! Don't dissect us!" Raph redoubled his efforts to escape. With quarter-inch thick steel alloy cuffs around his wrists, it was pointless.

Bishop ran a hand across the tray, humming flatly to himself. He touched tweezers, scissors, forceps with long arms and serrated tips, scalpels with razor-sharp edges, pliers with odd angles, and a startling array of saws and longer knives. His hand passed over all of them and touched every one, the other hand held to his chin in contemplation. Each of the brothers held their breath.

His hand stilled over one tool in particular. He ran a finger down the length of it—all ten inches of saw-toothed blade—and held it up with reverence. It glinted in the light as he turned it.

"I'll have to cut through that tough shell of yours. A bit garish to start out with, but the bone saw will have to do."

Donnie’s eyes widened. “Wait—"

Bishop lunged forward and pressed the saw to the hollow of Donnie’s throat. His brothers cried out all at once, wordless shouts that couldn’t be contained even by the fear that their sounds would drive the saw further into him.

"Any one of you can stop this,” he growled. “Just tell me where the mutants are."

Donnie tried to wriggle further backwards into his prison, raising his chin while the blade pressed ever closer. A hint of a whine escaped his throat, and Bishop sneered.

A dry sob broke out of Leo's throat. He couldn't let his brothers die like this. He couldn’t, he couldn’t. He hoped they would forgive him as he drew a breath to speak.

The door slammed open, washing the room in a new column of light. Three figures stood, outlined by it, in the doorway. One was notably smaller.

"Bishop! What did I say about keeping them alive?"

He bared his teeth at Donnie, centimeters from his face with the saw still pressed into his throat.

Finally, it stopped. He backed away, and the turtles let out a collective sigh of relief unlike any other.

"Surely you don't need all four of them," Bishop monotoned.

The smaller figure broke away from the door and came to the edge of the platform. Now that there was more light, they could see more of the room. There wasn't much to see, just the door in front of them and a couple of control panels built into it. The giant glass jar entirely escaped their notice.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do." The woman looked older than Bishop, with short hair and a tight-lipped mouth that reminded them of every cranky teacher they'd ever seen in a movie. "Every drop of their blood is like gold, Bishop. Do you understand the value of gold?"

(As they spoke, Donnie's breathing escalated until his chest heaved and he started to wheeze.)

Stiff as a board, he ground out a yes ma'am.

(Leo and Raph tried to comfort him and get him to breathe steadily, Mikey strained just to see him.)

"Very good. Now get your things out of my way, we will begin the process."

"They haven't given us any information!" Even with his voice raised, the tone was even and emotionless.

The woman paused. "There is plenty of time for that yet."

Without another word, Bishop and his tray of nightmare fuel disappeared into the dark for good.

Leo leaned forward and put on his most innocent I-didn’t-eat-the-last-hotpocket face. “Uh, ma’am, you seem a lot more…reasonable than Mr. Bishop—is that a name or a title? It doesn’t matter. It's just that there's something we really gotta do or, like, the whole world—”

“Be silent! You do not speak.”

Leo’s heart dropped to his tail.

Donnie’s head snapped up, fire lighting up his tired eyes. He was still breathing heavily, and he looked paler than ever in the harsh light. “Look, lady! I don’t know what you want from us, or why you talk so scary, but we shouldn’t be here! There’s a fly monster out there—”

“CLEARLY,” she yelled over Donnie, “Bishop was not very clear on who is in charge here.” She pressed the button on her own remote and Donnie screamed.

Donnie had a pretty girly scream to begin with, his brothers were always eager to point that out whenever they could. And he did it often! He screamed just last week about the sai in his leg (which was an accident), but it didn’t make their blood run cold like this one. He panted, shaking all over and staring hard at the ground. Leo silently begged him to keep his mouth shut.

“I will do the talking, understood? I am Cynthia Utrom, and you are my property.”

Leo whipped around to face her. “What do you mean, ‘your prop—?”

It was his turn to scream. This time, he could feel the electricity go through him. It started at his left wrist and traveled through his body, knotting up his lungs and stomach and everything else important in there, and shot out his right foot. Ripples of pain followed the initial shock as his muscles kept spasming long after it was over.

Cynthia Utrom knelt at the base of the structure and picked something up. It was Donnie’s glasses. She wiped off the lenses before placing them on his snout. “I will use you to complete our glorious work. You were created with my mutagen, you see, which makes you my property. Now that I have you back, I will use your blood to create a stable mutagen.”

She paced in front of them, not unlike Bishop. Instead of holding her hands behind her back, she held a tablet in front of her, and instead of proud shoulders, she had a crazed look.

“And with that mutagen, I will create an army of super-soldiers, the likes of which this world has never seen! It will be magnificent. This machine, you probably wonder what it does, yes? Meet your undoing, the Mutagen Intravascular Labilising Centrifuge!”

Mikey frowned, brows drawn together as he mouthed the words to himself a couple times. He totally zoned out and didn’t hear anything else from her grand speech as he worked out the problem in his mind.

“Is that bad?” Raph whispered.

Donnie nodded. “Yeah. Yeah that’s bad.”

“It is a beast of my own design, made to siphon the mutagen out of your blood until there is nothing left, and you are nothing but piddly little turtles to be flushed down the toilet!” She grinned to herself.

“M-I-L… Guys!” Mikey shouted. “Guys, Dad was right! It’s a MILC machine!” He slumped against the metal behind him. The MILCing machine behind him and wailed a wordless lament. If, by some divine chance, they actually managed to live through this, he was sure their dad was going to kill them.

“Begin the process!” Without another word, Cynthia Utrom stalked out of the room.

They all panicked as the machine behind them whirred to life. Something inside there was spinning real fast.

“Donnie!” Raph yelled. “What’s happening?”

“The M is self-explanatory! The I means she’s gonna do something to our blood, and the C is for centrifuge, which spins really fast!”

“What’s the L for?” Mikey shouted.

“I have no idea!”

The restraints around their middle suddenly tightened until their shells hit the wall behind them, leaving absolutely no wiggle room. There was another whirring sound, but higher pitched. Almost like Bishop’s bone saw, or…or Donnie’s power drill.

“What’s— AGH!”

Something sharp pierced the back of Leo’s shell, and he started breathing a little too fast. His hands clenched and unclenched as it burrowed into the uppermost layer with very little sensation. Uncomfortable, but bearable. And then it broke into the interior of the shell, and all he knew was agony.

Leo would later wonder how someone could turn their back on a room full of suffering teenagers. Later on, when he joked about this with his brothers, he would realize that it was kind of fucked up, and he really didn’t like joking about it. When the hole bored in their shells by this machine finally, finally healed over so many years later, they would sit in silence knowing that there was no more proof of their pain.

But in that moment, he was dying. He was certain of it. No one could be in this amount of pain and live. His ears rang and filled with the pounding of blood and whirr of the drill. He could barely hear his brothers over his own pleas and cries. And then he died.

He woke up in the restraints for a second time, and noted with some confusion that he had not, in fact, died. The pain in his shell was still piercing, but more manageable, and there wasn’t a drop of blood around his feet. It was all…somewhere else.

“Leo! Dude, we were starting to think you weren’t gonna wake up!” Mikey sounded on the verge of tears.

“Are you guys okay?” His own voice came out warbled and hoarse from the yelling.

"No!" Mikey yelled. "We're getting MILCed!"

“How long was I out?”

“Not very long,” Donnie said. “But enough for that.” He nodded toward the wall in front of them, where a glass vat was quickly filling with green ooze. Exactly the same way he’d always imagined it would look.

“I’m gonna be sick,” he groaned, hanging his head limp. He breathed deep and thought back to some of the de-stressing meditation exercises on his youtube playlist. Breathe, count, release, count, again.

“This is it,” Raph said lowly. “This is how it’s gonna end. Getting MILCed to death in a lab.”

“It’s not gonna kill us,” Donnie pointed out, “we’re just going to revert back to our unmutated forms. Maybe if we’re lucky we won’t remember being…us.”

Mikey chuckled suddenly. “This is just like that thing, man. Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

They all laughed a little, even though the jostling hurt. A hush fell over the room, only the spinning of the centrifuge to keep them company.

“I can’t believe April just left us.”

“Maybe…she just had some errands to run,” Mikey said.

“Classic Leo. You got suckered, bro. We all did.” Raph wished he could give his brother a friendly shove or tuck him under his arm and shake him. He didn’t like words, he liked actions and hugs.

Donnie sighed. “We were stupid to think humans would like us. We shoulda listened to Dad.”

Raph leaned back and banged his head into the machine. “There’s gotta be a way out of here, right?”

Silence answered him.

“Right?”

“Raph…guys, I’m sorry.”

“Oh you cut that shit out right now,” Mikey said. “Don’t go robo-leader mode on us now, dude. I’ll kick your ass.”

Leo smiled. “Pretty empty threat.”

“I’m sure ghosts have asses.”

“Once again, we’re not going to die, we’re going to demutate.”

“Nerd,” Raph fired off.

“Puke-brains.”

“TikTok user.”

“Oh, coming from mister ‘I like your shoelaces’ himself!”

“Ouuugh!” Mikey exclaimed, interrupting very intentionally. “I—I can feel it! The turtley urges…returning! I wanna put arugula on my pizza!”

He got a symphony of boos to that one.

"You already put sardines on it, isn't that turtley enough?" Raph stuck his tongue out. "Eugh."

"I’ll have you know—!"

"Wait!" Leo shushed them. "Listen, listen, do you hear that?"

"The giant blood-sucking torture device?" Raph asked.

"No, listen." He tilted his head up and to the side, straining to hear the shuffling sounds above. It was possible that this was just a multi-floor building and there were people above them, but it almost sounded like...rats.

Or one very, very big rat.

They all cried out at once as Splinter dropped from the ceiling. "DAD!"

"Boys!” He briefly looked happy to see them, and then his eyebrows furrowed. “You are in so much trouble!”

Yeah, that was to be expected.

Watching him fight and take out all the guards was like a dream sequence. He moved from one side of the room to the other too fast to track, wielding odd weapons like desk chairs and clipboards. He kept one eye on the boys all the while, and they cheered him on.

“Dad—DAD, look out!”

He glanced toward Raphael at his warning, then back toward the large metal cabinet behind him. They all yelled as it came down on top of him, and silence fell over the room. Armed guards groaned and started to gather themselves.

The boys were too shocked to do anything but stare.

There was a thump and the cabinet shifted, and Mikey lifted his head with hope. The cabinet rattled a little more, and Donnie remembered how average rats could fit through a hole the size of a quarter. When he burst out of the cabinet’s back, wielding each one of their weapons, they cheered loud enough to startle the guards.

Armed with actual weaponry, Splinter made short work of the remaining guards. Leo winced as a guard took a katana blade to the face. That was not pretty.

Splinter smacked a control panel until, with a mechanical hiss, the rods in their shells retreated into the machine and the shackles all snapped open. All four of them fell bonelessly.

“Boys!” Splinter rushed to them. He went for Donnie first, only because he was closest, and helped him to sit propped against the machine before tending to the other three similarly.

Leo groaned and reached around to try touching the back of his shell. His fingers brushed over the edge of the hole—it was so much smaller than it felt like when it was drilling into him, maybe the width of a pencil. His fingers came back tinted with blood and green ooze in equal parts. His stomach roiled, and he nearly fell sideways again as he gagged.

Raph grabbed his shoulder before he could fall and pulled him tight against his chest, crushing him in a hug. By the time Leo blinked the stars out of his eyes, his father and other brothers had joined in. They sat in an aching, contented heap at the base of the machine for a moment. Mikey buried his face in his dad’s fur, hiding tears while Donnie stared into the middle distance.

“Are you boys okay?” Splinter pulled away and began to check them over for injuries, turning Raphael’s face this way and that before moving on to Mikey.

“We’re okay,” Mikey assured him, sniffling and smiling at the same time.

“You kicked those guys’ butts!” Raph yelled.

Leo carefully peeled himself away from Raph while they all talked over each other excitedly. He grabbed Donnie’s shell and turned him around so he could see the hole at his lower back, which was already crusting over with dried blood, then turned him again to press the side of his head to his chest. Yes, his heart was beating. Thank goodness.

“Leo! I’m okay, I promise!”

He pulled away and held him by the shoulders at arms’ length, searching him for any trace of a lie. He looked exhausted, and his mask was wet with tears, but he was okay. Actually…they all were.

“Come, come,” Splinter said, starting to gather them up to their feet. “Your human friend is waiting outside. We go before these men wake up, and I will shout at you out there.”

“April?” Leo yelped. “She came back?”

“Yes! Come on, we got to get out of this creepy place!”

Leo’s head buzzed as they clambered into ventilation shafts that Splinter used to enter the building. Maybe…if they could survive that…maybe they could do anything.

#tmnt #tmntmm #mutant mayhem #teenage mutant ninja turtles mutant mayhem #mutant mayhem spoilers #the ghost writes #my writing #my fic #turtleposting

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celestialsun123 · 8 months ago

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I drew some TMNT sketches

These are all pictures that are taken at weird angles to avoid shadows getting on the drawings themselves.

Everything's under the read more cause it gets LONG 🥲

This was the first one. It was alright, although looking at it now, I wish I had not done the shadows 😅

I drew Mikey second and DANG this boy gave me trouble! He looks so PRECIOUS, so I forgive him.

This is when I realized that I could use a piece of scrap paper to test my colors. I think Raph turned out GREAT, and this is also when I figured out how to do the block shading (I added it to Donnie and Mikey after)

I did not do Leo next (mostly cause I couldn't find a good pic) so I did this sketch that I HATE because Donnie's face is bad. Like... it's just bad.

Then I finally found a good pic for Leo! His face is so pointy tho, and it REALLY bothers me cause I can't get it to look right for me. Other than that, the only problem was I have to use a highlighter for his mask and sash thingy and it gave me grief. He also looks too buff. Like I couldn't get the right proportions, so he just looks slightly strange. (I end up having this problem with Mikey and Donnie too 🥲)

Next I did 2012 Donnie. I'm not used to drawing 3D, so I did 2D. It was a nightmare and I wish I had used the crossover episode as a reference instead. Overall, Donnie turned out decent.

After Donnie, I did 2012 Raph. I did NOT learn from all my mistakes and I used another reference from a normal episode. I did know what to do differently drawing wise, and Raph looks way better than Donnie. (He does look like he's holding the camera. He isn't)

I was out of the house when I drew 2012 Leo (plus a Rise Leo), so I didn't have access to my colored pencils or normal paper. I really like 2012 Leo, but AGAIN Rise Leo has SUCH a pointy head!

(the text on Rise!Leo's drawing says "Rise Leo being responsible," and then the whole "Donnie, DAD'S on that thing." Quote.)

And then, finally, I made a collage/series thing. I am SO proud of this, although there are parts I despise. Leo's face? Hate it. Kinda made me want to cry drawing that. Mikey's whole self? (Not to mention the fact that I used the wrong color for one of his mask tails?) Hate it. Donnie's whole positioning with Raph? Also hate it. I got real lazy at the end (cause I'd been working on this for 2 days and couldn't find good poses for the other three)

In case my writing is both too small and too messy to read, here's the translations from left to right:

1st pic: on Donnie's right "I love my brother" is repeated all the way down, getting aggressive at the end. This is what Donnie is thinking. Above him the text says "has listened patiently for 1.5 hours and is having a mental breakdown."

Above Leo the text says "has been rambling for 2 hours." On Leo's left he is saying "And that's why when Usagi said to run, I decided to go and SAVE him instead- hey, and- [missing text going behind Leo] ever get- [missing text] cause I'd- [missing text] it and- [missing text] you live- [missing text] -igh? Oh! - [missing text] -ormally- [missing text] -nd you- [missing text] not that- [missing text] so- [missing text] but- [missing text] and I did- [missing text] even TRY! Are you listening to me?"

Additionally, there is text outside the box, above Leo, that says "combined type ADHD (possibly Autism)"

2nd pic: above Mikey the text says "rambled for 3 min, then got insecure and had the AUDACITY to ask if he was being ANNOYING."

The text above Donnie says "wants to kill whoever suggested that, cause there isn't anything in the UNIVERSE that could make Mikey annoying." The text in the thought bubble says "Is murder legal?"

Outside the box, above Mikey, there is text saying "combined type ADHD (possible autism)"

3rd pic: the text above Raph says "rambling 'bout wrestling (it's been 1 hr)"

The text above Donnie says "lovingly listening for the next half hour after this." The text beside him says "multitasking"

Under the text about Raph there is also text saying "inattentive ADHD"

4th pic: The text next to Donnie says "has been talking about tech for and/or science for *5* hours"

The text above the three spikey blobs says "they have zero clue what he's talking about, but they listen anyway"

Outside the box, above Donnie, the text says "Autism"

That's all for now. I haven't made 2012 Mikey yet, just cause 2012 intimidates me because of its 3D nature. I'll get to him eventually! (He and Leo are my favs in 2012)

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ducknotinarow · 2 years ago

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[2k12]

It's late. Real late. Yet Casey was still wide awake, even though his mind and body was screaming for rest. He just couldn't seem to stay awake, no matter how much he wanted too. Grabbing his phone, squinting at the bright screen, he groaned as he read the time. He knew it was late, but, Raph was usually up this time. Finding their name on his phone, Case shot a couple of messages their way,

[TXT] Hey; u up? [TXT] Tired but can't sleep [TXT] Windows unlocked if u wanna swing by

He knew he needed to take the damn stuff, but he missed being able to sleep. But he'd rather not deal with Raph lecturing him. Or April lecturing him. Or anyone lecturing him actually...

When there's a tap at the window, Casey manages to lift his head up, tired and lopsided grin on his face. He's so glad he has someone like Raph in his life to look after him.

| Muse Interaction

Raphael, wasn't someone who could sit still for long. Meditation was his weakest point when it came to a lot of their training from Splinter. Being made to just sit with his eyes closed and think but not think? How do you just sit doing nothing and not think? Empty his head of thought? Sure maybe for Mikey that's pretty easy to do. He just couldn't get the hang of it often always hating when his dad would give him the response of 'mediated on this' when he would turn to the rat to talk to here and there. Never worked not for him at least. When he did and could stay still though? was when he could keep his hands busy and his mind focused on something.

Raph took a liking to art, something he could do and sort of zone out when he did. As he had his sketch book propped up against his legs. Shell resting to the wall beside his bed. Using the light from the only light source he kept in his room, his jack-o-lantern. Maybe he should look into better lighting when he drew though. Taking a break to rub at his straining eyes. Or maybe being up so late was doing it more, he hadn't realized how much time just flew by when he started to sketch on the paper. So lost in what he was doing, only clue to it being late was the sound of Savage's resting breath beside his ear. Raph turning to his shoulder looking at the little turtle who stirred awake.

"Aw sorry Sav, didn' mean ta wake you." Hand lifted to idly scratch his nail to their head as he watch them lean in to it closing their eyes as they softly churr. Hand back to his sketch book as he goes to hold up what he was working one for the tiny turtle to look over. "What ya think?"

Raph watched the small turtle slowly open its tried eyes and take a moment to focus their stare to the page. Raph had been working on a clearly sketch of Casey dressed up in his gear when ever they took out to the streets to deal with the 'scum of the streets.' Such a dork.Drawing them out looking a bit more like the grim reaper thanks to Casey's hood and skull painted hockey mask. "Think it looks like 'em?" When Savage stretched out his neck to bite into a corner of the paper, Raph felt that was a yes. As they tore the corner free and started to chew on the bit of paper they took.

Raph's shoulders shook a little as he tried to stifle his laugh, winding up coming out like a snort. As he closed the cover of his book and set it off to rest on the side of the bed. He didn't need Savage eating the whole drawing after all. He grabbed Savage and took him off his shoulder, setting them to rest on a knee pad now as he gently pressed a finger to their jaw to open their mouth and take the paper out of their. "That's not food buddy." He said it softly still trying to scold the turtle but it's hard when they are just so cute when trying to hang their beak clearly upset. "Thinking I could I dunno maybe find a wall up top to paint it on to instead? eh someone might mess it up that way though. Maybe I can get lucky and find a blank canvas paint it for him?" He idly throws out the ideas towards the turtle as if they would be able to offer any insight his way. Giving it to Casey to have just themself would be nice though. When he hears his voice go off suddenly hes take from thought and reaches for it. Not wasting a second, he knew from the tone it was Casey texting him.

Noting the time for the first time "uh awful late for Case to be up still?" well on a school night that is at least.

[TXT] Hey; u up?

[text] Yeah, but why r u?

[Text] ᇂ_ᇂ

[TXT] Tired but can't sleep

oh, it must be cause of those pills he needs. And should be taking. Well, if he can't sleep means Casey is taking them, right? So Raph can't be upset. Though his proud smile weighs down with some sympathy for his boyfriend.

[TXT] Windows unlocked if u wanna swing by

Hmm drop by uh? Sure he can't tell for sure from the text alone but that seemed more like Casey was asking if Raph could drop by. Makes sense why they bothered to see if Raph was awake in the first place. Dork.

[Text] if u wanna see me you can just say that dork

[Text] ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ –

[Text] I'll be there in 10

[Text] ♥(❛ε❛⋆)

Raph slipped his phone back into his belt and looked at Savage with a smile as he got an idea. "Wanna cheer up, dad?" He poses. Sometimes, he swears Savage is more than a simple snapper because he could nearly swear they nodded their little head to say yes.

Grabbing the turtle off his knee to hold close to his plastron as he started to scoot his way off the bed. Raph was sure seeing the little guy might just cheer them up some. Finger tips brush against the wire spine of his beat-up sketch book. Drawing Raph's attention down to it. Thanks to Savge, it was easy to see which page had the drawing he'd been working on was at. There was a small idea forming in the back of his head as he held his eyes on to his sketchbook. Audibly humming to himself as he seemed to be debating over it when a shift shift of weight in his plam brought his attetion down to Savage.

"I mean... s'not all that great an' it no where near done either. Kinda sucks." He shares a look with Savage "nah ya right if I wanna show your Dad than I outta just show it to your Dad." Grabbing at it he made his way out from the lair quickly.

----

Raph landed at the familiar window not a second late as he rapped knuckles to the glass. Setting his hand to the glass to peer inside, he didn't want to wake them if they had managed to fall asleep. But he sees Casey head lift and smile at him. Raph gose ahead and slides the window open and climbs on through. "Got a surpise for you." He announces as he lowers the window back down. Slowly turning around to fave Casey to present Younge Savage to them.

"Ta da."

Raph smiles as he hands the little turtle over for Casey to hold not wasting a second as they right away go and start biting the hell out of Casey's fingers. Casey didn't seem to mind, but I guess they will be bandaging that up later. Raph sat down beside Casey and idly bumped his elbow against them. Taking a moment to look over their tried expression. He knew it was the pills still didn't fully settle his worries. He leaned over to press his beak against their lips in a short kiss. Their son was here after all before pulling away, looking back to his sketchbook now. He felt like his heart was drumming against his shell. He knew Casey hated the pills and well everything that came with thier 'cools guy syndrome.' But he was happy they were at least making sure to take care of themself.

"I ah..got two surprises for ya, actually." He brought up opening to the page he needed. "It uh not done or anything so.." He sighs annoyed with himself, so he just shuts his beak and holds the paper over to Casey to see. "Jus' cause ya know I know ya worry and take care if your family all the time. An' ya haven' been all that happy learning about your 'cool guy syndrome' on top of everything else." He stuck to that name in case it made it just a bit easier on Casey to call it that instead. "So I jus' wanted to" him and his inability to literate his words was not what he needed it right now. "Jus' I guess what I'm trying to get at is just."

Noting Casey just staring at him didn't help as he looked away suddenly. "Jus' I wanted to make ya something cause I know it sucks but you said you do it for me so...thanks?" He was pretty sure that wasn't excatly what he meant but just shrugged it off. Looking back to them now.

"What do ya think?" He pauses giving them a chance to tell him. Before he dismissivly looks down to it himself. Be easy to tear it out if they wanted. "Ya can keep the sketch if you like."

#muse| hamato rapheal #madamkezzie #aflockoffeathers #[ if you jump off a bridge its only cause i did first aflockoffeathers]#[2012 verse]#muse interacction #stayed qeued #((i was feeling soft and i just find sharing a sketch to be sweet especially for someone like raph uwu))

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keimisan · 3 years ago

Text

Tokyo Revengers

Headcanons

when they see doodles of themselves in your notebook.

pairing(s): mikey, draken, mitsuya, chifuyu x gn!reader (self-insert)

Mikey was beside your desk waiting for you to return from the washroom so that you and he could go home together. But right then, he sees pages on your desk and thinks that perhaps you’d forgotten to pack them in your bags.

Wait, these aren’t school notes but drawings.

Squints his eyes and stares because it looks so familiar but he can’t quite put a finger on it. he’s literally just scrutinizing to figure out who on earth it could be, but it looks so familiar.

Then it clicks in when he sees a doodle with his close-to-heart cb250t, his touman jacket flying in the air. after that, he’s flat out observing all of the other doodles and matching himself with it.

Now that he realizes, he thinks it’s pretty accurate, too accurate how you’ve portrayed his frequent behaviors with a few arches of your pencil.

He notices how a lot of them portray him smiling, happy and having fun- and that you’ve drawn his eyes like a crescent in them, with little lashes invigorating from them beautifully.

He’s so drawn into it that he doesn’t notice when the notebook is snatched out from his hands, making him turn around to see the culprit.

He was about to throw hands until he saw it’s you, with a pout gracing your lips as you close your notebook shut.

“give it back baby,” he pleads, dragging his voice out like a kid in demand. now you’re both pouting and mikey’s the ultimate baby so it’s you who has to give up.

“alright, take it but don’t make fun of me,” you say, hesitantly handing your notebook back to him.

“how can i? it’s too accurate and too cute,” he says, and before you could have the preparation, mikey lands a brief kiss on your cheeks, completely freezing you up.

“next time, draw us both together.”

The next you know, mikey’s laminated all of those doodles and they are now prettily sitting on his desk at home. he claims that they’re his “motivation”

He might be a bit weird but you guessed you loved him anyway.

You were with hinata while touman was in a meeting, waiting with her in a room. You’d gone to bid her goodbye when draken came in and saw your infamous notebook sprawled open on the table.

And then he sees the chibi faces you’d scribbled on them.

Recognizes himself in a second because he believes he’s rather peculiar to have someone else like himself. It’s unmistakable when you’ve drawn that braid and his dragon tattoo in a miniature way in the miniature him.

Not to mention the patterned jacket that he always wears.

He thinks it’s too cute how you’ve made his head bigger than the rest of his body, and his eyes have this winged liner along his lids; and how his braided pigtail isn’t defying gravity.

observes the rest of the doodles very carefully.

He’s sure he’s never posed like any of the poses you’ve drawn him in, but your mind is as peculiar as his hairstyle so he doesn’t question it, though he does wonder if his braids really look this jumpy.

When you come back into the room and see him flipping the pages of your notebook, and you’re about to snatch it away from him, he tugs it back.

“It’s me, so it’s mine,” he says, trying his best to maintain an emotionless façade.

“I drew it, it’s mine,” you give it a little tug back, but not too much since you really adored your notebook and of course because it had a lot of your boyfriend’s chibi doodles.

“you drew me, so it’s mine.”

“how the-”

“copyright infringement,” and that’s when draken bursts out into a smile and pulls you into his chest, giving you a loose hug as he keeps the book on your table.

“they’re really small and adorable,” he laughs, pointing at the one that’d caught his eyes, “just like you.”

“I’m not small!”

“you bet you aren’t.”

It was a stay-at-home date and chifuyu was, as embarrassing as it is for him, late. Though grooming himself up is for you and for the date, but still, he knew he shouldn’t have gotten late.

You told him to go sit in your room and that you’d arrive with coffee and a few snacks- chifuyu almost thought you were mad by how plainly you’d told him that.

He somberly sits on the floor of your room, rather dejected thinking that he’d pissed you off. The notebook and pencils make way into his vision a little later, but his curiosity spikes up at its best.

He simply looks at them, the different poses and expressions, and wonders, ‘who is it’. it’s totally a boy, but who, who is it that you drew who was not him.

Then he flips up the page and notices more doodles scribbled on the parchment, colored. A deep red engrosses on his cheeks when he sees the blonde hair- undercut included, and his cyan eyes.

it’s him! you doodled him and not some other boy!

A little part of him is regretful that he’d been so late that you’d drawn a horde of his doodles and the other part of him is irrevocably happy and in love with you all over again because the drawings were out of his imaginations, too adorable.

And there was peke j too!

So when you come with two mugs of freshly brewed coffee, he tells you how cute they are, excitedly going, “kawaiiiii!”

You can’t be mad at him when he’s so happy, you can’t be mad at him at all!

“I know I was late but these are blessings,” he says, gleaming at the pages with a blush on his cheeks, “I can’t believe I’m dating someone as wonderful as you.”

And it’s your turn to turn beet red when he reads the scribbles at the top you'd written carelessly, saying, I love you. he gets shy for a few moments too but then whisperingly replies back anyway, “love you too.”

It’s a ton shit praise from him, some even shy when you tease him but it really shows how much he loves the doodles.

He’s not really a fan of tattoos at the moment but he knows he might just put one on his ankles or his wrist if he steals your notebook again.

It’s almost evening and mitsuya suddenly remembers that you’d said you’d wait for him in his club room- he can’t believe he almost forgot.

He’s rushing towards the classroom in brisk steps, but when he reaches the room, it's empty and there’s no one in there. A single light is turned on, so he thinks you’d left.

He’s just passing by and checking the room when he sees a notebook on his desk. he goes to close it but notices the abundance of doodles in the pages.

some of them were even colored with markers, the lilac hair and lavender eyes, it’s undoubtedly him. especially when he sees the sleeveless black jacket he always wears, and that crossed earring.

He smiles adoringly at it, and his eyes form crinkles when he sees the pinkish blush you’ve put on his cheeks, “adorable,” he says to himself.

But you’re right behind when he does. Though you end up smiling at his words, you still form a strictness in your tone and say, “takashi,”

He turns back immediately to your call. And then he pulls you by your shoulders and shoves the notebook in front of you, “it’s pretty,” he says, softly smiling at the papers.

“spend some more time with me then, maybe I won’t have to draw these to comfort myself,” you say and mitsuya looks at you In pretend-astonishment, “you missed me so you drew these?”

When you nod at him with a jutted lips, he swears he’s about to lose it all but he wraps his arms around you instead, “but I like them,”

You let out a chuckle, “there’s not a time I’m not missing you so these will keep coming, rest assured.”

he laughs as he kisses the top of your head, muttering "silly," as he does so.

Mitsuya really likes the little doodles you make of him, sometimes borrows your notebook and shows them to luna and mana.

Really appreciative of them and expresses it in short words like, “pretty” or “it’s amazing”, but you know he means those words with all his heart, so he doesn’t need to praise you too expressively.

you bet draken's one was inspired by tumblr +

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inupibaldspot · 3 years ago

Text

Letters and Fights

Request by : @aliendoggo

Paring : Baji x Female Reader.

Synopsis: You kick Baji and then help him write a letter to make up for it

Baji has had enough! He huffed as he walked along a path which led him to a quiet place a bit out of school campus which had an area covered with bushes and trees. I'll write my letter here.

Chifuyu always helped Baji when he wrote his letters but yesterday the former ended up laughing at the way Baji made an error on his letter which was so not cool of him. Baji thought.

Now Baji was walking to this quiet area where he was sure not many people would come and interrupt him.

So he pulled out his pen placing a paper on top of a book and started writing.

Deer Kazutora,

Recently I have been studying queet a lot, I even brought glasses.

Mickey and Draken said people who wear glasses are more intilijent.

Baji was going to continue more when-. "Meow~" His ears perked at the tiny sound and he started looking around.From the corner of his eyes, he saw movement in the bushes so he started making his way.

A small kitten popped its head out and looked at him,meowing. Baji laughed to himself making him extend his hand and gently starts petting it. "Hey there."

The kitten leaned into his touching making Baji melt on the spot. Upon hearing the kitten still meowing, he smiled. "I'll bring you some food later- URK!"

Baji was sent flying. He cursed as he pulled himself up. That kick was probably as strong as Mikey's. He thought as spit out the blood he had formed in his mouth.

"You're the one who did that to Mayo aren't you?" The person started pointing at him.

"The hell?" Baji whispered in confusion as to why a girl popped out of blue,kicked him several feet away and now was shouting at him. Plus why is this girl so strong?!

"I can't believe people like you exist?! What did the Mayo even do to you?" The girl shook her head.

Baji snapped. "Who the hell are you and Who the hell is Mayo? I was just writing a letter when you suddenly came here and kicked the shit outta me!"

The person's expression flattered. "You're not the one... Ehh?" The person trailed her eyes to indeed see some stationaries lying around.

The girl suddenly did a deep bow. "I'm sorry! Recently someone has been harassing the kitten over there and even taped her mouth so that she couldn't eat." They explained. "I came up here and saw you near the kitten and thought it was you who did those."

"My name is Y/N and the kitten over there is Mayo..." You introduced yourself.

"My name is Baji Keisuke." Baji sighed, his anger dissipating. I mean... They were just looking after the cat.

"By the way I just peaked into your letter and..." You nervously played with your hand. "You have a lot of spelling errors over there."

"Wait really?" Baji approached you and picked up the letter as he leaned towards you. "Which part?"

You picked up the pen which was on the ground and pointed at the errors. "Here and here... this part too."

You suddenly beamed,clapping your hands together in realization. "How about I help you proof read your letter as a way of apologizing for the kick earlier?"

Baji beamed at the suggestion. "You will? Thanks!"

This meeting continued even after Baji finished writing his letter. Y/N said she'll always be there to help him with his studies so it became a sort of regular meeting between Y/N, Baji and Mayo.

When Baji would write his letters, you will be playing with Mayo but when you started proof reading Baji would be the one playing with Mayo instead. Baji enjoyed these moments a lot.

The way you would patiently explain where he made mistakes, the way you scrunched your nose figuring out his handwriting, the way you made baby voices when talking to Mayo. All of these made Baji feel happy? Relaxed? Content? He wondered what word could be used to describe what he was feeling.

Baji walked to their usual spot but instead of you,he saw a group of boy. There were six students and from their uniforms he could guess that they were High School Students.

A sharp cry of a cat was heard followed by laughters. On a closer look one of the boys had Mayo held whereas the poor kitten was obviously struggling. Your words on how Mayo had tape stuck on her mouth flashed into his brain.

"Damn,this cat won't stop struggling." One of the boys said. "Maybe we should tape it's limbs this time."

Suddenly a large impact was felt on his face making him drop the kitten. "What the hell?!"

"What were you doing with Mayo?!"

Baji went into crazy mode as he jumped on the boy and punching him until he passed out. The remaining boys also joins the fight.

Don't get me wrong. Baji is strong but right now he was heavily outnumbered and his opponents were high school students. They were physically bigger putting Baji in a disadvantage since Baji was only in middle school.

"Shit..." Baji huffed as his vision start to blur. He managed to beat two more of the high schooler but then three more still remained. One of him hit Baji hard making him fall onto the ground.

"You need some help?" Why the hell was he seeing you face? Just when Baji was about to pass out your face suddenly came into view.

"Go away, little girl~" The high school said in a mocking tone. Baji confirmed that you were indeed here and that he wasn't imagining anything.

"Guess you're the guys who were tormenting Mayo..."

"Mayo? Who the hell is Mayo-"

Before the boy could complete his sentence, you jumped at him,punching his face in. Before others could react you quickly turned to the other dude and kicked him,making him stumble.

The last high schooler ,taking advantage that your back was facing him was about to punch you when a suddenly blow was dealt. You turned to see a smirking Baji. "Y/N,are you a gorilla or something? Why are you so strong?"

You gasped at him. "Why would you ever call a girl gorilla?" You asked as you started punching a guy who was bout to stand up making Baji laugh loudly.

Both you and Baji huffed as you sat side by side after you finally beat the shit out of high schoolers. You turned to look at Baji. “Gonna write a letter to Kazutora-san again?”

Baji smirked and nodded. “I’m going to write everything that’s happening around so that when he comes back he wouldn’t need to try and catch up. It’ll be as if he never left in the first place!”

You smiled as you started rubbing you hand on Mayo’s head. “You’re a nice friend, Baji...”

After that both you and Baji did your usual thing.

Dear Kazutora,

I’ve made a new friend. Her name is Y/N.

And get this! She is super strong. Just now we beat the shit out of six HIGH SCHOOLERS.

I can’t wait to introduce her to you when you come back.

Y/N loves animals a lot too. Right now she is taking care of a stray cat but then she is sad since she can’t take the cat home because her mother doesn’t like them.

She is very fun to be with and smiles a lot!

Baji left a weight on his shoulder to see that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Mayo on your lap had fallen asleep too. Your lips were slightly open making you look adorable.

Right now she is totally passed out. Hopefully she doesn’t drool on my shoulder. Do you think she would get angry if I drew a beard on her?

Her mouth is slightly open and I think she looks cute.

Although she fights scary, Y/N is quite pretty. When ever she smiles, she closes her eyes making her look kinda adorable-

“Are you done, Baji?”

Baji flinched as he quickly stood up making you almost fall since your support stood up. “What the hell? Why did you get you so suddenly?!” You complained.

Baji quickly crumbled the paper he had written on and laughed nervously looking at you. “I did a self check and found too many errors. So I’m going to write it again.”

You noticed that his ears were rather red.

.....

“Hanaemiya Kazutora. A letter arrived for you...”

Dear Kazutora,

I made a new friend. Her name is Y/N.

She fights like a gorilla and looks like one as well. Living up to that nickname ,she is quite strong.

#GirlBoss

With love,

Baji Keisuke.

Kazutora tilted his head,confused as to why his friend had suddenly written about a girl and keeps calling her a gorilla.

#baji headcanons #baji x reader #baji imagine #baji fluff #baji keisuke #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagine

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manjiropie · 3 years ago

Text

do whatever is in your mind.

Young Mikey x Reader!

Warn! no warnings today! enjoy!

It's not often Mikey and I have a quarrel. We do bicker here and there, but that's what happens between friends, right?

I've joined Toman for almost a year now– although I've known Manjiro for much longer. I met him through Emma, who is a big friend of mine for as long as I can remember. She was there for me at times when I felt like there was no exit, no light. She's an extremely important part of my life– of me.

I've come to realize that I have been spending more and more time near Mikey, which is not bad, I do enjoy his presence. He may look tough and intimidating but he's just like a mochi: freezing cold on the outside but melting saccharine inside. Now that I'm a part of the gang and actually get to know and participate, I've gotten closer to him. Here and there Mikey invites me out.

"So, it's like a date?" I'd smirk suggestively at him.

"In your dreams." He'd try to hide his smile and he'd look away.

However, there are a few little habits he has that tend to send me on a rage trip. I get mad easily. Things will likely set on fire quickly. It's not that I want to, but my mother is not one of the most patient people in the world and she tells me to cool down. As if.

This last week was the cherry on top.

Mikey had crossed the line. He had pissed me off in every single way possible. He pretended not to listen to me while he was eating. He would answer me in a "oh, I don't really fucking care about what you're talking about!" way. He tripped while he was laughing hysterically at something Draken had said and his pink lemonade was all over my white shirt. He drew in an assignment that was due to the next day for my math class. He told me off for no reason at all in front of everyone in the last Toman's meeting... all of that wasn't on purpose. I am aware of how incredibly short his attention spam is when it comes to not so important affairs. But, fuck, couldn't he just be a little nicer to me? At least during last week where I was having sharp cramps in my fucking uterus? Yeah, maybe he didn't know that because I try not to be so obvious. But when he told us we'd be training last thursday I almost laid on the ground in fetal position and cried for hours. I didn't! I fought and then went home and cried.

Then, this Saturday– today –he invited me to his house to hang out. Emma was with a friend and his grandfather was out of town. When he called me to his house we never did much. We'd watch TV, hang out on the couch discussing stupid stuff, we'd be on our phones... nothing so wow. It was still fun, though.

I wasn't in the best mood to leave my comfy bed but I was way less in the mood to fight him off over the phone. So I slid out of the bed and dressed the first jeans I saw laying on the end of my bed and the oversized Nirvana shirt hanging off my chair (it's actually my dad's shirt, shhh).

I knocked twice on his bedroom's door.

"Come in." He yelled from inside. I open the door and he's laying on the bed, his head hanging off of it and his hair is almost touching the floor. His face lit up and he rolled over so he laid on his stomach. I walk over and sit down beside him.

"What's up with the frown?" I didn't notice I was frowning to be honest. Guess the bad mood followed me here.

I shrug.

"Ugh, don't tell me you're in a bad mood." He whines. "I called you here to chill and you're already angry. What's up?" He lays on his pillow and swings his legs to place them on my lap. I huff and shove them off, getting up.

"You've been treating me like shit the whole week and now you wanna chill?" I say, more calm than I thought.

"I did not treat you like shit this week? When do I treat you like shit?" His tone was one of disbelief and confusion.

"Ah, Mikey. Embarrassing me in front of the rest of gang; spilling your drink on my school shirt, which is now stained; ignoring me or answering like you're bored..." I list them off on my fingers. "I am the one who asks, what's up with you?! God, you're always being so unpredictable, which is good sometimes but not like this! Not to me!"

I flop down on the couch, starting to get tired of this whole thing. Knowing Mikey, I know that he'll not lay down again.

"So you're the only one allowed to have bad days now?" He sits on the edge of his bed and I turn my head around lazily, uninterested, bored, like him.

"You were laughing incredibly loud with Takemitchi and Draken friday."

"You can be so annoying sometimes."

"Oh, I'm the annoying one now?" I stand up.

"If you don't like my company, why did you even come in first place?" He also stands. We don't have much height difference, but he's hardly two inches taller than me.

His voice is calm, like always. Which makes me infuriated. "Fucking hell! Does it hurt for you to apologize!?" My sudden outburst takes him on surprise, and me, too.

"I already apologized, stop whining about it."

"I'm not whining–"

"If you weren't," he walks to his desk and sets a cup that was once beside his bed down. "You would've dropped this matter before."

"You don't give a damn about what I feel, do you, Mikey?"

"What?" He turns around, brows knit together.

"You heard me. You made me have a bad week and the least you could do is apologize, you dumbass!" I stomp to his direction.

"I already did! Why don't you–"

"Shut up or I'll punch you." I say, slightly looking up.

His eyebrows twitch and he slowly tilts his head to the side, like a puppy. "Or what.. ?"

"Are you fucking deaf?" I point to my ears.

He comes a little closer. "You're gonna do what if I don't shut up?"

"I'm going to punch you if you don't stop being a brat." I sneer at him. My blood boiling. The stress from this shitty past week overflowing in that moment.

"Oh, yeah?" I could feel his breath oh my nose.

"What? Are you doubting me? I would." I jerk up an eyebrow. I've never fought physically with him. But it's not like I can't.

"I'd like to see you try." His eyes flicker to my lips for a brief second and my breath fails, making me cough.

"What? Can't punch me?" He amuses.

"Fuck you."

Suddenly I feel an arm sneak around my waist and in a second I'm chest to chest with Mikey. My eyes widen– his were peaceful as ever, although superior.

"Do it." He says, looking down at me.

The way he's holding me is making my head spin. True, Mikey is cute...

"Do what?"

He laughs at my confused expression. "I don't know... what did you say you'd do to me?"

Ha ha.

His hold on me tightens.

"Do whatever is on your mind." He says.

My eyes roam free between his eyes and his soft pink lips. Do whatever is on your mind.

If he knew what was on my mind, would he still allow me to?

"Do it," he encourages me once again, "aren't you the 'oh so brave' one? Punch me, yell at me, do whatever you want to me."

Those words were the last push I needed. My hands find the soft skin of his neck, hidden by his long hair. I pull him close and lock our lips together. I feel him making a little sound, I don't know if it was surprise or relief.

If by just looking at it his lips seemed soft, actually touching it felt like kissing cotton candy or guessing cloud shapes.

He didn't pull back, in fact, he held me with both hands. I have no clue how he did that but it seemed as though all of my worries dissipated as we kissed.

My heart was beating so fast that it made my chest hurt. My head started to pound when I spent a little too long without air. I pull back from his lips and keep my gaze on them as I breathe heavily.

"Hm." He hums quietly, almost dreamily if you'd ask me.

I look up at his face and smile a bit, noticing how his cheeks are pink. I lift an eyebrow up as if asking what he was thinking. He shakes his head and then puts his right hand on my cheek, caressing it. He kisses me again. This time is slower. As though being present in the moment. As if it were just me and him and nothing else.

----------

I hope you guys liked It! It was so pleasant writing this out of the small bits of ideas that I have. Don't forget: my requests are open. You can request anything! Thank you for reading! Oh, likes and reblogs help a lot! If you consider following it'd make me even happier <3

#fuck this is so cute #mikey x reader #young mikey #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey sano #mikey x you #tokyo revengers #baji #tokyo manji gang #tokyo rev #manjiro sano #mikey #tokrev

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well-its-not-human-anymore · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Could I get HC from the guys? 👀 How they would always react to catching the reader seeing them "badly", in addition to the fact that he usually avoids them, but with his brothers it is incredible and they feel bad because they think they do not like him. But she actually likes them and she looks at them like that because she "studies" them to draw them and she is too clumsy and shy to talk to them, that's why she ends up avoiding them. Until finally he catches her drawing them with lots of hearts or maybe they'll find her notebook with lots of portraits of them.

It's kind of funny because when I study people to draw them, they think that I look at them with hatred xd maybe I should increase my glasses prescription

God, glasses are such a pain in the ass but I have to wear them. If I don't anyone within my near vicinity doesn't have a face. But why they gotta get dirty so easily???? Makes me wanna explode or something

TMNT Headcanons

The boys w/ a quiet reader who is fine with his brothers but acts cold around him and stares a lot

Michaelangelo

mikey couldn't describe his disappointment upon realizing that you didn't want to be friends with him

well, you never actually said that to him

but he was pretty sure it was the case

you'd never made an effort to be friends with him

stared at him an awful lot though, but there was always something off about your gaze when you looked at him

like you were sizing him up, scrutinizing him, like he was an opponent

it kinda worried him

to add to that, you didn't even attempt to look embarrassed when he caught you staring

you'd just stare harder

on your end it was quite the opposite

you always found the brothers fascinating and you LOVED studying their anatomy, you'd confessed this to Donnie early on and he happily indulged in your questions

and you loved how easily you got along with the boys

well, except for Mikey

but it wasn't for a lack of trying

whenever the orange sporting turtle came around your normally flamboyant personality crept back into its little corner and hid

any words of excitement that had previously been with you died in your throat

for the longest time you didn't understand it

and you hated not understanding things, so you turned to your only outlet

that's how you ended up with an entire sketchbook full of the youngest brother in vastly different styles and poses

you had a separate book for the others, none of them as detailed as this

and when you stared to analyze you'd fallen into a habit of not looking away when caught

by your logic, if you stared back hard enough he'd look away first or just assume you'd zoned out

he didn't

and on one hectic day you'd left your sketchbook open on the kitchen table in your rush to get to work

you hadn't even noticed the slip up until Leo texted you to let you know during your shift

instant panic

in truth, Mikey was the one who discovered the book upon waking up from his nap and he'd spent the next three hours analyzing every drawing

when you finally dropped in after work to grab your book the turtle was waiting for you with it in hand

he'd asked you if you hated him

you told him no and accepted your sketchbook from him

he was relieved and screaming excitedly, just in his head

"Do you maybe wanna hang out sometime?"

You sighed in relief and nodded

"If you're cool with it- you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"I mean- you are talking to a turtle..."

you lightly shoved his chest and smiled, although it faded within a second

"Oh hush, 10 o'clock tomorrow? I'll bring snacks."

he was so stunned he could only shoot you finger guns in approval

Donatello

Donnie genuinely couldn't understand your unease around him

he'd followed all the proper expectations of holding a conversation

he was polite and engaging

so why wouldn't you talk to him?

this boy has read so many social blogs to try and figure out what he was doing wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it

you were fine with the rest of his brothers, you'd stay up for hours laughing and gaming with them

you'd even sat still long enough to listen to Leo explain some old Japanese myth that he'd read about in a book

but with him it was always a quick, cordial greetings and farewells with bland small talk in between

Donnie had picked up pretty quickly that you weren't interested in any sort of interaction with him

and he convinced himself that that was okay

but that didn't explain the staring

he'd caught you in the act several times, eyes narrowed and locked on him

especially when you were alone with him in a room or just in the lair

the poor turtle just couldn't put his finger on it

then he caught you drawing, he noticed early on that you always carried a small sketchbook on your person but he didn't think much of it

and it wasn't so much that he caught you drawing, in fact, he wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't snapped at him while he was trying to do a sudoku puzzle

"Damn it Donnie! Stop moving! If I fuck this arm up one more time I'm gonna decompose!"

he'd quickly moved back into the position he was in prior

"sorry?"

but you'd gone silent again, occasionally glancing up from your work and running your eyes along his frame before looking down again

nearly twenty minutes later Donnie had finished the puzzle and it seemed as though you had finished your drawing

"Uh- can I ask what are you-"

"I'm drawing you but you kept moving your arm and making me mess up. You always do that when I draw you so every damn picture I have of you stays a sketch because you always come out looking like a fucking octopus."

He just stared

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to explode on you like that. I'm just- I'm really bad at talking to you okay? It's so easy with everyone else but you've just gotta be so damn smart all the time and I worry that you'll think I'm boring so I just... don't talk to you?"

Donnie is stunned™

You refuse to show him the drawing until you can complete the line art and color it

But at least he knows that you don't hate him

Leonardo

To be completely honest Leo didn't mind that you were distant from him

You created an aura of calm when you were around and you always managed to distract his brothers while you were present

And he enjoyed the alone time

But after a few months that calm acceptance turned into jealousy

Not that he would ever admit it

He would just push it off and ignore it, that usually seemed to work

So why wasn't it?

And your obvious staring problem didn't help at all

Leo didn't spend much time considering his appearance but something about your gaze made him self conscious

And he hated that with a passion

Why was it that you could hold entire debates with his siblings? Even his dad for gods sake. You'd have hour long conversations on almost everything but whenever he tried to say hello you'd make up some lame ass excuse and scamper away

He just wanted an explanation

It appeared that the answer resided in your sketchbook

You'd left it open on the couch when Raph had called you away to spar with him

Leo very delicately flipped through the pages, careful not to disturb some of the polaroid pictures of his brothers

He was admittedly surprised to find pictures of himself among the pages

One of him in a handstand, another of him meditating, there was even one of him mid sneeze that you'd recreated with pencil and paper

The image of his eyes was the most startling, but the book held no polaroid of his eyes

You drew them from memory

And he was shocked when you returned to the room and didn't immediately panic

But that might have been because he didn't try to withhold your book from you

"It took me three months to color them, your eyes. I could never get the shade of blue just right."

"I'm gonna be honest with you y/n, I really thought you didn't like me."

You had the nerve to roll your eyes and follow it with a laugh

"I don't. I mean- I do but no, you just remind me a lot of myself and I haven't exactly figured out why yet. I thought that maybe if I drew you it'd be easier to figure you out..."

"Well did it help?"

You grinned

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Raphael

If there was one thing Raph hated it was not understanding something that was right in front of him

which is ironic, as a much younger version of himself probably couldn't care less

and a part of him wishes he didn't care about it so much

he wishes that your blatant avoidance of him didn't upset him

but shit, it got under his skin better than any needle ever could

was it too much to ask for you to just tell him what he said or did wrong?

was he asking too much of you?

but on the same scale you'd never shown obvious dislike towards him, you were never rude and you sure as hell didn't talk shit about him to his brothers

you got along great with them

in fact it was getting more difficult to remember a time before you became a part of his family

he'd become so used to your presence that it no longer put him off when he found you hanging around the lair

but in another sense he was certain that you hadn't spoken more than three sentences to him in your time knowing him or his family

so what was the reason

several months in he finally caught onto the staring, your narrow, glassy gaze locked onto his body and refusing to look away

he stared right back at you

this annoyed you for several reasons

because within five seconds your very peaceful drawing session had turned into a staring contest and your eyes were getting VERY dry

then you exhaled in a half-sigh and looked back down at your paper

"Huh, I guess your head is more of an oblong shape..."

he took offense to this

"What tha' hell is that supposed t'mean?"

now your eyes held more of an amused silent judgement, you begrudgingly held up your sketchbook

"I'm drawing you, you fucking walnut."

"Oh..."

now you rolled you eyes and tossed the book to him, he nearly dropped it and fumbled with the pages

your annoyance was quickly growing

"Careful with that."

He flipped through the pages at a snails pace, assumingly because he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing

you had some real talent

when he looked back up at you he was wearing that crooked smile

"and here I was thinkin' that my eyes were just green."

Hope I was able to get this down pretty well! I really enjoyed writing this one! Thanks for the patience!

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #writing blog #writing requests #askbox #ask response #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo

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takenyoomies · 3 years ago

Text

Bonten Abbey: (mis)Aventures to the Arcade

Summary:

Sanzu Haruchiyo was known for many things...pill-popping, being late, and most importantly, wrecking the flow of the weekly Wednesday board meeting. What would this week hold? None of the other members of Bonten wanted to find out when he was once again late to the meeting which only spelled one thing for them. Disaster. Word Count: 8.7k Read on AO3

It was a Wednesday, and a Wednesday meant one thing for the Bonten gang. The weekly board meeting that nearly every single member in the top brass gang seemed to dread, loathe, and despise. It was often typical for each member to discuss their part for the designated five minutes. However, going over time would cause extreme tension in the sardine-can-sized conference room that would rival being trapped in a room with a rabid badger. In addition, there were times when other off-topic conversations occurred that in Akashi Takeomi’s quoted words were “an absolute fucking mess.” All in all, the meetings tended to go through without a hitch. However, today was not one of those days as Sanzu Haruchiyo strolled into the conference room with a shit-eating grin that rivaled no one else, fashionably late, of course.

“Hey, Sanzu!” An annoyed Mochi shouted at the man who entered, whipping his head around at the sound of the door closing, teeth barred and fists clenched in anger.

“Yo, Mochi.” Sanzu waved, trouncing over and sliding down into the uncomfortable and hard leather seat.

“We have a set meeting time, jackass.” Kokonoi hissed.

“Like he’d ever listen to that Koko….” Ran laughed, shaking his head.

“Important business called me.” The pink-haired man sighed blissfully, shrugging almost sarcastically to the platinum blond accountant’s dismay.

“I doubt that highly.” Rindou breathed.

“Oh, and what would that be?” Takeomi chimed in, a brow raised as he put out his cigarette.

“I’m so glad you asked!”

Reaching into his pocket with excited fingers, the pink-haired mullet sporting man pulled out a folded piece of paper. One would think this was some grandiose plan, some information regarding their competition, something important. But, no, Haruchiyo Sanzu unfolded the piece of colorful paper and slammed it onto the mahogany conference table, looking up at the group of men with a smirk.

“...Please tell me it’s actually important this time.” One of them said with a sigh. It didn’t matter which one.

“Oh, trust me, it’s of the utmost importance.” Sanzu assured, holding up his right hand, “Swear on Mucho’s grave.”

“The last time you used that, we ended up deserted at some movie theater that was showing a crappy porno...so that’s out the window, and you’re about to be too if this is something-” Mochi ranted, taking a glance at the piece of paper, “Are you fucking serious?” He asked in disbelief.

“What is it this time?” Kakucho finally spoke with an exasperated sigh, standing up from his seat and walking over to take a look at the piece of paper, “An arcade?” He asked with a raised brow as he looked over to the pink-haired man.

“Yeah, they’re running a deal where if eight people come as a group, you get 50% off.” He leaned back in the chair, putting his feet onto the table with a thud, “Therefore, I think we should take advantage of it and get off our depressed asses for a change.” Sanzu concluded with a nod.

There was a click in the background as Takeomi lit another cigarette. “I’m fine without having to babysit for the day.” Takeomi stated, then taking a heavy hit off of the cigarette, exhaling upward, “Interrupting a meeting for this is rather pointless, Haruchiyo Sanzu….”

“I think it sounds like a good time. Reminds me of when we were back in Tenjiku, right Rindou?” Ran turned to his brother, who sighed and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess there’s some nostalgia there.” The younger Haitani agreed.

“2-1.” Sanzu stated, pointing to the others in the room, “Mochi, Kakucho, Koko….” He said to each as he pointed to each of them with his index finger, pausing as he hovered over the sleeping Mikey, not daring to wake him up.

“It’s a waste of our funds, and judging from the fact we recently recovered from the great Bonten Has To Eat Instant Noodles For Two Months issue...It’s a no from me as well.” Kokonoi explained as he slid his hands together, “I’m sadly not in the mood for instant noodles again.”

Sanzu rolled his eyes, “Stop being a drama queen, and it wasn’t that bad.”

“It was fucking awful. What the fuck are you talking about?” Mochi argued, “Just for that, it’s a no from me too.”

“Bullshit, you’re voting based on emotions.” Sanzu cried out, swinging his feet off the table and slamming his fists onto it with a loud thud.

“What if I am?!” Mochi screamed, holding his fists up, dropping the flyer onto the floor for Kakucho to pick up.

“Oh god, here we go again…” The younger Haitani laughed, laying onto the surface in front of him as he watched the fight unfold.

“Zero days without incident at a Bonten Board Meeting….” Takeomi sighed, shaking his head in dismay.

“Did we ever have a positive count…” Kokonoi asked in confusion.

“Nope.” Ran snorted as he shook his head.

“I think it’d be interesting.” The normally quiet Kakucho spoke up, placing the flyer onto the table near the sleeping blond.

“See? I knew Kakucho was my favorite for a reason.” Sanzu pointed towards Kakucho, who blinked and pointed towards himself to ask ‘who, me?’.

“Didn’t you say Rindou was your favorite last week?” Ran questioned, an index finger on his cheek in sarcastic thought, “Oh right, it was for ‘agreeing with you about how strawberry shortcake is better than strawberry cheesecake’ …” Pointing at Sanzu.

Rindou jabbed his brother in the stomach with an elbow, causing the taller of the two to emit a dull ‘ ow,’ “Don’t bring me into this.”

“That was an important conversation. Mochi was trying to say cheesecake was better than real cake,” Sanzu clarified, “I’m not going to rehash old beef, though.” He held up two hands as if to say he didn’t care. However, it only seemed to anger Mochi more as he drew back a fist. Kakucho began to get ready to hold the brawny man back for the umpteenth time.

However, a small yawn from the front of the table, causing every person to freeze. Mochi and Kakucho returned to their seats quickly as the blond who had once been asleep opened his dark, inky eyes.

“...All of you are unnaturally quiet,” He finally spoke, looking around at each of the men seated at the table. He then glanced down at the sheet of paper that was settled in front of him, “What’s this?”

Sanzu gulped. This was officially a make-or-break moment for his plan, “Ah, Mikey...it’s for an arcade that’s running a deal….” He trailed off nervously.

The blond’s obsidian eyes glanced over the information listed on the paper before pausing at the section relating to food and looking back up at the group of men, “We’re going.”

Sanzu smirked and looked directly at Takeomi, who looked as though he wanted to crawl into a ditch and die, “Sanzu - 1 Takeomi - 0.” He jousted.

“If we were keeping track history-wise, you’d be so far in the red you’d be begging for someone to come save you,” Takeomi shot back, shrugging his shoulders and standing from his seat. He walked towards the door of the conference room, turning his head to Sanzu, “but you do that enough already, huh?” Finishing with a dry laugh as he exited the conference room.

“What the fuck? I’m not Koko.”

“I’m right here…?” Kokonoi shook his head in disbelief, standing from his seat at the table with a huff and kicking the chair back into place, “If I have to eat instant noodles for two months again, I will never forgive any of you assholes….” Pointing a finger around the room, stopping before Mikey, turning on his designer heels, and walking out of the room. You could hear the faint echo of his heels trailing down the concrete hallway.

“And then there were….” Sanzu counted himself and the heads in the room, holding up one hand to count only to realize he didn’t have enough fingers, “Anyways, when are we going?”

“The flyer said the deal is only good until Sunday; therefore, we need to go before then.” Kakucho informed the group, “Since it’s Wednesday, and we each have jobs to do until early Saturday morning...I’d suggest Saturday afternoon.”

“Overall, that sounds like it would work with our current plans, Kakucho.” Mikey agreed, his obsidian gaze staring holes into the heterochromatic man’s soul.

Kakucho nodded his head, “I’ll be taking my leave now. I have some things I need to tie up.” Then, standing up from his chair, pushing the chair in, and silently walking out the door to the conference room.

“We’ll get going as well, then.” Ran suddenly spoke as he stood up lazily, a scuffling noise coming from the chair.

“You act as though we’re going to the same place….” The younger Haitani breathed, shaking his head and rolling his lavender eyes at his brother’s statement.

“I thought you said we’re going out for lunch?” Ran pouted, hands on his hips.

“I said I was going to get lunch, and you invited yourself again.”

“I don’t see what the problem is with that?”

“Everything, everything is the problem with that.” Rindou turned to his brother as he finally stood from his place at the table with a huff.

“Can I come wi-” Mochi started to ask, only to be interrupted.

“NO!” Both Ran and Rindou yelled simultaneously to Mochi.

“Tough crowd…” Sanzu snorted to Mochi.

“Listen-” Mochi started, cracking his knuckles, only to be shot a look by Mikey.

“I’d be careful Sanzu, Kakucho already left, and that makes the chances of your face getting smashed in about 8-2.” Ran pointed with some underlying amusement, almost hoping that there would be another fight.

“Wow! Is everyone Koko today?!” He asked incredulously, putting his head in his palm and looking at the older Haitani, “If I didn’t know better...you did our taxes, Ran!”

“...But, I do help with those?” He questioned in a confused tone, blinking.

“Leave him. He’s hopeless.” Rindou sighed, “Mochi, come with us to lunch before you get put on punishment duty by Mikey.”

“I wasn’t gonna do shit.” Mochi huffed, glaring at the pink-haired man, “What are you lookin’ at?”

“Nothing, nothing...it’s just-” Sanzu paused, leaning forward in his seat to get a closer look at Mochi.

“It’s just what?” Mochi spat.

“Your beard...you shaved it crooked this morning, and it’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever seen.”

Yes, it was at this moment that Mikey indeed questioned if he formed the deadliest gang in all of Tokyo...or if he formed the most immature band of toddlers in all the land of Japan.

---x---

“So, who's driving?” Sanzu asked lazily on that faithful Saturday afternoon.

“The last time Rindou drove, he floored it past an old lady because she was driving the speed limit and nearly crashed us into a gasoline tanker, so...I vote not Rind-OW what was that for?!” Kokonoi yelped, getting elbowed in the side by Rindou.

“She was going eight under the speed limit, number one, and number two. I drive fine compared to somebody!” The long-haired man glaring over to Mochi.

“Eat shit.” Mochi replied, flipping Rindou the bird, “Let Kakucho drive; he’s safe.”

Sanzu groaned loudly, “But Kakucho drives like a grandma.”

“And how is that a bad thing?” Kakucho sighed, shaking his head.

“We’re gonna get there at sundown if you drive.” Sanzu pointed out.

“Oh, true.” Ran chimed in with a thoughtful nod.

“I don’t drive that slow.”

“Yes, you do,” Sanzu breathed, “Next.” Kakucho held out his hand, only to put it down in defeat.

“Alright, since Sanzu is an absolute fuckwit about this, I’ll drive. One catch, though,” Takeomi spoke up as he threw his cigarette onto the pavement, crushing it under his shoe.

“Ooooh, Takeomi enters the chat.” Sanzu mooned.

“Shut up,” He shook his head, “I get full control of the radio.”

Everyone went silent, staring at one another in horror.

“Sanzu, let someone else drive,” Kokonoi spoke up finally.

“Yeah, please, let someone else drive.” Rindou shook.

“I don’t want to deal with this for 45 minutes.” Mochi looked over at Takeomi, lighting another cigarette, who had a sinister look in his eyes.

Mikey finally strolled down into the parking garage, noticing no one was in the bus, “Who’s driving.”

“Takeomi is,” Sanzu replied, a collective sigh from the group as Takeomi chuckled to himself.

As everyone began boarding the bus, Mikey clung behind with Kakucho, only to ask a singular question, “Does this mean he has control of the radio again?”

“We’re sadly going to be listening to Russian death metal for 45 minutes….”

Mikey stared ahead before reaching into his pocket and fishing out two pairs of earplugs and handing Kakucho a couple, “Tell no one.”

The dark-haired man blinked as the other walked onto the bus, Sanzu slamming on the horn while screaming at Kakucho to “get his ass on the bus,” much to Takeomi’s annoyance as he tried to shove the pink-haired idiot away. Inwardly, he wondered about the kindness as he embarked on the self-proclaimed Bonten prison bus, holding the earplugs in his fist.

The route navigation guidance will start…

“Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up.” Mochi chided the navigation system.

“Don’t insult her. You’d get lost getting out of a paper bag.” Rindou snorted.

Takeomi turned his head around and glared, “I hear any more arguing, and all of you will wake up in a walk-in freezer.” He said with a sweet smile, putting the bus into gear and starting to drive out of their base.

“You’ll never take me alive!” Sanzu retorted after a moment, snickering to himself as Takeomi visibly winced in anger.

“Yeah, that’s the point, dumbass,” Kokonoi replied, slapping the back of Sanzu’s head with an open palm.

“Takeomiiii Koko hit meeee-”

Takeomi gripped the steering wheel with one hand, his knuckles on that hand turning white as his other hand skillfully reached for the pack of cigarettes and a lighter that laid on the center console. He plucked a stick out with his lips, throwing the pack back down and flicking the lighter to light the cigarette. He inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in for a long while as if to contemplate his current life choices, such as why in the world he ever agreed to play babysitter to a group of overgrown idiots and be their chauffeur for the day. Finally, his eyes looked into the rear-view mirror, meeting Sanzu’s mischievous cerulean ones, “Good, you deserved it.”

“Fuck off, Takeomi.” Sanzu puffed, Takeomi only turning up the music louder in a petty act of revenge.

“Look what you made him do!” The blond man shrieked in horror, everyone else on the bus, minus Kakucho and Mikey, glaring at the pink-haired offender.

“I didn’t do anything! He turned it up himself!” Sanzu defended.

“I’m rating Takeomi 1 star on Uber,” The older of the Haitani brothers joked, “Worst music choices, worst attitude, smokes in the car-”

“You can walk if you want,” Takeomi called out, “But remember, I had to carry you home after that mission because you twisted your ankle because you decided to wear those new Gucci shoes...I think you’d be too far up shit creek to stand on your own.”

Ran blushed furiously, “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

Rindou snorting and holding his sides, “Bro, that’s why you were limping that week? You said you slipped on the ice...It was your shoes?!” He wheezed.

“Oh my god, you’re absolutely hopeless, Ran….” Kokonoi facepalmed, chuckling.

“I am not. I’m reporting you to HR!” The short-haired man pouted, crossing his arms.

Sanzu snorted, “Did you mean Kakucho?” Looking over to the dark-haired man who was staring out the window, “Oh shit, he’s brooding.”

Mochi sighed, “Someone get the tissues ready.”

“Earth to Kakucho, come in to Kakucho...Return to planet earth!!” Sanzu yelled, causing Takeomi to glare at him in the rear-view mirror.

“Sanzu, that walk-in freezer has your name on it...I know a place relatively close by.” Takeomi threatened.

Turn left at the next intersection, then turn right.

“Bullshit, that’s the long way.” Takeomi hissed, throwing his cigarette out the window angrily, “Who designed this.”

“Please do not take us on another scenic route again…” Sanzu whined painfully, “It’s on the GPS for a reason. We do not need to relive the Black Dragons glory days.”

Takeomi rolled his eyes, “For your information, my glory days have nothing to do with getting us there faster.”

“Mhm...keep telling yourself that.” Sanzu replied snarkily, “Are we there yet?”

“Mikey, do you still have the duct tape in the bus?” Kokonoi perked up suddenly, clapping his hands together, “I suddenly thought of a great project for us!”

“I don’t like the sound of this project.” Sanzu objected.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll just love it.” The light-haired man reassured Sanzu, brushing his hand against his arm gently, the other retreating with disgust. Kokonoi snorted with laughter, “What, scared?”

“No, I don’t want to catch your reverse sister complex.”

Kokonoi stared at the other with his mouth wide open, Sanzu rolling his eyes in return, “I was at the Kanto Incident, don’t act like people don’t have ears when you and what’s his face were out there screaming about it….”

“Yeah, you were screaming about it, Koko.” Mochi agreed, Sanzu blinking that the man had agreed with him.

“Oh yeah, I remember that!” Ran exclaimed.

“Survey says Tenjiku remembers it Koko.” Sanzu shrugged.

“Go to hell, and stay there.” Kokonoi huffed, blowing his bangs off his face.

Sanzu crossed his arms, smirking smugly, “You’re just mad because I won.”

“Oh god, he’s crying.” Mochi whispered, nodding his head toward Kakucho, “Sanzu, you just fucking had to bring up Tenjiku, didn’t you?”

“Nice going Sanzu, that’s the 3rd time this month you did it, too.” Rindou pointed out, “I don’t think we have tissues in the fucking bus anymore.”

“Why the fuck not?!” Mochi hissed, “Oh wait….” His eyes trailing over to the elder Haitani, who was looking to the side inconspicuously.

Rindou’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his brother, “Yeah, hm, perhaps because someone decided to hop in with a fresh bullet wound….”

“Listen, it was a bad night...week...month….” He attempted in defense, each increment of time making Rindou raise his brow higher and higher, “ Year?” Finally, causing the younger brother to nod in agreement.

“Wow, Ran...it’s almost as though you’re more useless than Sanzu,” Takeomi muttered sarcastically, offended gasps resonating from both Sanzu and Ran.

“At least I know how to cook without setting the fire alarms off,” Ran spoke incredulously.

“You forgot the sprinklers too.” Rindou chimed in.

“Hey,” Sanzu spoke, turning his head to them.

“Please, let us all not forget about the time he came to a meeting to discuss the fine intricacies of how orange juice makes you taste weird after you brush your teeth,” Mochi added, shaking his head in disproval.

“I’m right here!” Sanzu yelled in a huff.

You have arrived at your destination.

“Thank fucking god,” Takeomi sighed, putting the bus in park, “Someone wake Mikey up.”

---x---

Surprisingly, the arcade was located in a relatively remote part of town compared to where Bonten typically walked their regular routes. However, this did not stop several people from staring as the rag-tag crew disembarked the converted prison bus.

“Hey, hey...who are those people…”

“They look kinda scary.….”

“Alright, so game plan time.” Sanzu began as they walked towards the doors of the arcade.

“I’ll go in, so you get the deal. However, I’ll be standing outside to smoke otherwise.” Takeomi concluded.

“What?!” Sanzu shrieked in disbelief, “No, you have to participate.”

“No, I don’t.” The scar-faced man replied coldly.

“Let it go Sanzu, Takeomi can keep watch.” Kakuchou offered, “And he needs a break too. He just drove for almost an hour.”

Takeomi nodded his head in agreement, “Couldn’t have said it better.”

Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance, looking over to the blond for help, “Mikey….” He pleaded in a petulant manner.

“Let him rest.” Mikey stated, “He’s been pulling overnights, too.”

Takeomi smirked towards Sanzu, who only seemed to get more aggravated as he aggressively pulled open the doors to the arcade with a loud, “Fine!”

The arcade was anything you would expect, loud, smelled a bit musty, and was vibrant beyond compare. However, there was a slight scent of cheese for some strange reason. Heading towards the counter, the eight members of Bonten cashed in for several game cards that were quickly handed to none of than Hajime Kokonoi himself.

“Wait, why me?” He asked incredulously.

“Weren’t you the one who said, oh, I don’t wanna eat instant noodles for a month ?” Sanzu mocked, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but we’re all adults here and can manage fine….” The platinum blond trailed off, looking around in a confused manner.

“Yeah, Koko, don’t be a hypocrite.”The older Haitani agreed, hands on his hips.

“Are you seriously agreeing with him?!” Koko cried in astonishment.

“Well, I think that settles it,” Sanzu said with a smirk, “You can go play like, one game or something like that.”

“Sanzu, is the word ‘nice’ in your dictionary, or did that get removed when you started your drug usage?” Kakucho asked, blinking.

Sanzu turned and looked at the other man, “I could say something right now, but it would amount to the fourth time this month.”

“Alright, let’s just get on with this shit.” Mochi finally said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, Yeah...I’m going….” Sanzu waved his hand as he walked in the other direction, likely off to find something that piqued his interest.

Ran turned to Rindou, “I wonder if they have DDR here….” He wondered aloud, his lavender eyes glancing around the area only to light up in amusement, “I see it!”

“Oh, it’s on.” Rindou smirked, “Ready for a revenge match, bro?”

“Like I’d ever miss it for the world.” Ran laughed as they both made a bee-line for the machine.

“What are you gonna, do Kakucho?” Mochi asked, turning to the jet-black-haired man.

“I’m not sure; I haven’t been to an arcade since….” He trailed off and looked to the floor.

“Get out of your head for once.” Mochi punched the other lightly in the shoulder with a grin, “Can’t stay in there forever, huh?”

Kakucho looked towards the other man and nodded, “You’re right.”

The two began walking around, attempting to find something to do in the vast array of games and activities, stopping now and then for Mochi to try something and only failing at it miserably, only to have Kakucho show Mochi how to do it properly. Eventually, both came upon a motorcycle racing game, their eyes lighting up as they used to long ago.

“Mochi?” Kakucho asked quietly, though loud enough to hear over the several kids screaming in the background.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“We’re playing this.” He declared.

“I mean, I figured when you stopped right there and were staring at it like it was some sexy chick at the strip club.” Mochi snorted, Kakucho staring at him as though he had two heads.

“Your disrespect for women is unimaginable.” He huffed as he hopped onto the motorcycle.

Mochi let out a hearty chuckle as he climbed onto the adjacent motorcycle, “Preaching respect women while in a gang that deals with prostitution,” He slid the card into the reader twice, “That’s some funny shit.”

“Oh screw, you.” Kakucho pouted as he swerved the motorcycles to select the rider, pausing over a white-haired rider and selecting them.

Mochi stared a moment, blinking at the fact Kakucho had chosen a character that looked like Izana. He shook his head and chose a random character, not exactly caring.

3...2...1...START!

“Oh fuck me, this ain’t nothin’ like the real shit.” Mochi cursed as he attempted to steer, crashing out several times with a string of curses.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about; this is pretty easy?” Kakucho replied, already in 1st place.

“How the fuck!” Mochi swore in anger, attempting to climb back into a semi-reputable position, only to realize he was in 9th place, closing in on 10th.

Kakucho tilted his body through a turn and smiled; he was having fun with this. He truly missed being able to go to the arcade with friends, with Izana. He wondered if they could do this more often...if Bonten could. He was drawn from his thoughts as Mochi swore loudly again, making him laugh, “Mochi, do you need help?”

“How the fuck are you gonna help me from there?!” The bulky man swore, now in 12th place—dead last.

“I...don’t know,” Kakucho admitted, crossing the finish line and setting a course record for the game.

“This is some ungodly level bullshit right here,” Mochi complained, trying to back himself out of an in-game ditch.

Kakucho continued watching for several minutes until Mochi finally crossed the finish line, “Well done.” He congratulated.

“Oh fuck off, enter your damn name.” The bearded man hissed in envy.

Kakucho entered his initials into the game, listed under 2nd place. He wondered who had set the 1st place record for the machine, though it was likely impossible to figure out.

His head turned when he heard a cry of frustration nearby, one that he knew...Koko?

---x---

When the group had split up earlier, Haruchiyo Sanzu had given him one rule. That was he was only allowed to play one game. Several ideas ran through his head, virtual poker, which allowed him to recoup the money they were blowing here, the weird slot machine game that looked rather promising, and then, of course, the game where you had a coin and slid it down a slot to push more coins off a ledge… All of those were lovely ideas, Kokonoi thought, that was until he landed upon a red stool in front of a screen that read Deal or No Deal. He’d heard of this reality television series before, and he knew the premise.

The blond pursed his lips as he sat down, assessing the machine. There were 16 buttons on the front labeled 1 through 16 in the shape of what looked to be briefcases. Kokonoi assumed they were to represent the motifs from the show. He sighed, figuring that, if anything, this was going to be the game for him. He slid the game card through the reader, slumping onto the stool.

Get ready to play: Deal or No Deal.

“Fuck me…” Kokonoi sighed in annoyance, watching as the said sixteen cases appeared on the screen with various ticket amounts ranging from one to five hundred. Large letters appearing stating to ‘follow the cases,’ which essentially signified you were supposed to pick the largest amount.

“Oh lovely, some RNG?” He muttered sarcastically, “It’s not like we don’t get enough of that in those gacha games kids play these days….” The cases shuffled around the screen, stopping and showing designated numbers that corresponded to the buttoned below. He thought a moment before pressing the nine button.

Choose your case...this will be your personal case.

“Yeah, I already did that-” Kokonoi hissed in annoyance, spamming one of the buttons to no avail.

You chose case number nine.

“Oh.”

Now pick five cases.

“I feel like I’m playing some fucked up lottery.” He sighed, noticing the clock and swearing under his breath as he scrambled to choose a number, “Let’s continue with the ongoing theme of my name.” He pressed the 1 button.

One.

One of the virtual women on the screen opened the case to reveal a low ticket amount, Kokonoi nodding his head in approval. He pressed the 13 button, the game echoing his choice once again to show yet another low ticket amount.

“And I thought poker was a rush.” He mused to himself, pressing the 8 button. This time, a larger amount was revealed.

“And all good things come to an end.” The light-haired man sighed as he then pressed the 15, another low.

“Back in black,” He joked, leaning back as he assessed the board for the final number, “Alright, let’s try 6.” It was a high number.

There was a ring from a telephone, causing Kokonoi to look around in confusion, only to realize it was the game, “This is such a weird game….”

That’s the bank.

“Oh good, am I getting paid?”

Here is the offer...Deal or No Deal...

A ticket amount appeared on the screen, Kokonoi’s inky eyes narrowing, “That’s it?!” He cried in frustration, hitting the NO DEAL button quickly, “I think that one gang we took out last week had a better offer for us than that.” He huffed.

Now open four cases.

“Again?” He asked incredulously, shaking his head, “Fine.” He pressed the 2 button, revealing a large amount, “Goddammit.” He thought a moment as the clock ticked down.

Hurry up.

“Oh, this game did not just tell me to hurry up.” The fair-haired man stated saltily, pressing the 16 button, low. He smirked, “See, can’t rush perfection.” He pushed the 10 button, low again.

“One more until the bank comes crawling back to me….” Kokonoi thought aloud to himself, hovering over the 14 button and then pressing it gently. Another low amount. The phone began ringing again in the game, music to Kokonoi’s ears, in all honesty.

There’s the bank again.

“Who else would it be?” Kokonoi mocked as he waited for the offer to appear on the screen.

Here’s the offer...Deal or No Deal…

Kokonoi thought a moment as the in-game clock ticked down. While this was a remarkably better offer than the last, he knew that there was still a significant chance he would be able to win big, and after all, it was an arcade. And not to mention, the bragging rights over Sanzu would give him mental clarity for the next month. With that thought, he pressed the NO DEAL button.

Now pick three cases.

Kokonoi sucked in a breath, his heart pumping, and he rubbed his hands together, “This is starting to feel like poker.” He pressed the 3 key. High. Swearing under his breath as he then pushed the 12 key high again. He stared up at the ceiling, his grand plan starting to fall apart as he looked down and pressed the 7 key, hoping for some luck. Low. Kokonoi sighed to himself as the phone rang, knowing the offer would look like garbage compared to the last, and laughing hysterically when it was less than half of what it originally was, quickly pressing the NO DEAL button as if he had never seen it.

Now open two cases.

“I don’t know if it’s good or bad, that the highest amount is still there, or that the offer they just made was so bad I wanted to leave here and never return..” Kokonoi chuckled to himself, questioning his life choices up until this point, pressing the 5 key. High. He then pressed the 4 key, also high.

“Wait...doesn’t that mean…” He stared and blinked, “I have either the 1 ticket or 500…”

The phone ringing again to make another offer, Kokonoi spamming the NO DEAL button as he came to the realization.

Now, let’s open your case.

As the in-game woman opened the case, Kokonoi leaned forward, only for the case to reveal...One ticket. Hajime Kokonoi had won, one ticket. He screamed, slamming his hands onto the machine before holding his head in his hands, staring at the floor in anguish. By now, Kakucho and Mochi had made their way over to him.

“Koko, what happened?” Kakucho asked, leaning down to attempt to make eye contact.

“I took a calculated risk...and for what.” The blond sobbed, his hand nearly tearing his hair out in frustration.

“Uh...Koko, it’s just a game.” Mochi laughed, amused by the entire situation.

“Do you think we can put a hit on Howie?” Kokonoi asked after a moment, looking up at the two of them.

“Who the fuck is Howie?” Mochi asked.

“Isn’t that the Deal or No Deal guy?” Kakucho asked, and then noticing where they were standing, “The answer is no, we are not killing someone for your petty revenge.”

Kokonoi huffed and crossed his arms, “Fine.” He looked around, “Where’s Ran and Rindou?”

“Oh, they’re with their fan club.” Mochi snorted, “Go see for yourself.”

---x---

“They really do have it, bro!” Rindou said with a huge grin, pointing towards the bright and colorful Dance Dance Revolution machine in front of them.

“Why wouldn’t they? They had it when we were growing up in Roppongi?”

“Okay, but who the fuck knows about a weird arcade Sanzu chose.”

“You speak only the truth…” Ran laughed, stepping onto the pad and sliding the card through the reader, “Oh nice, we get three songs?”

“Remember before we’d have to keep a cup of quarters on the floor, and we’d always spill it?” Rindou asked, tying his hair into a bun and joining his brother on the game’s vibrant pad.

“Yeah, and you’d always blame me for it even though you were always the one who did it!” Ran pouted, flipping through the songs and pausing on one, the music filtering through speakers as he turned to Rindou with a sinister smirk, “What was that about a revenge match?”

Rindou grinned, crossing his arms triumphantly, “I’ll gladly bust your ass at Kimagure Mercy any day.”

“Do you still remember how we do it?” Ran questioned as he selected it, sliding off his suit jacket and slinging it over the back of the railing.

“How couldn’t I.” The bun-sporting man rolled his lavender eyes, “Aren’t you the older one, gRANdpa?”

Ran’s eyebrow twitched, “I’m not above sibling punishment Rindou.”

“Oh, I’m shaking.”

The was applause from the game, signifying the song was about to start. The two brothers faced forwards, the intro starting and patterns beginning to fall down the screen. The two started to move in unison, swaying back and forth to the beat. It wasn’t until the first verse hit that what Ran mentioned began.

The Haitani brothers had begun to dance while playing Dance Dance Revolution.

Rindou glanced over to his brother, “Oh my god can you stop being such a show-off for once?” He huffed through a laugh, clapping hands with his brother to the beat.

“Please, it’s on my wiki article!” Ran cried out, “Just like you’re a big brute.” He bopped his head.

“I am not!” The younger retorted, squinting at the screen.

“Don’t mess up, Rindou!” Ran teased and purposefully pushed the other a bit in one of their claps.

“Fuck off!”

A crowd began to grow, mainly teenage girls enamored by these two men playing the game in such a spectacular way. All of them were excitedly watching as the two played, starting to ask each other questions such as “Does anyone know their names?” ��Who are they?” “Do they have an Instagram?”... Eventually, when Rindou’s name was mentioned, people began to cheer for him. Naturally, this caused a significant issue for Ran Haitani.

“Hi ladies, I’m Ran~” He sang, causing them to squeal, a smirk plastered on his face, and an annoyed groan from Rindou echoing in response.

“In another life, I wonder if you were destined to be a host.” He sighed, accidentally missing the tile on the floor, “Shit!” he swore loudly.

“You see what you get, Rindou; respect your elders.” Ran snorted, the other man glaring at him from the corner of his eyes.

“When this song is over, you better run…” He whispered, “It’s over in 23...22...21…”

“I’m so old, my hearing…” He joked, Rindou nearly grabbing his hand during one of the claps and breaking it.

The song wrapped up, Ran turning around and waving to the group of girls and Rindou slouching forwards, primarily due to rage, though also due to an insatiable desire to beat his brother to a pulp in Dance Dance Revolution.

“Again.”

“Oh, you want more?” Ran asked with a lazy smirk as he waved to the “fans”.

“We have 2 more songs.” Rindou huffed, rolling his eyes, “It’s a waste of money.”

“True,” Ran nodded his head, “Let’s pick an easier song then!” He reached for the buttons only to have his hand slapped away by the younger, a dull ‘ow’ leaving his lips.

“No, we’re playing this song until I beat you. It’s that simple.” Rindou explained, hands on his hips.

“Fine, fine.” The older relented, “Don’t blame me if you can’t beat me.”

By the time Kakucho, Mochi, and Kokonoi made it over to the Haitani brothers. The crowd was sizeable. The arcade staff attempted to get the crowd to disperse, as it was becoming a fire hazard to the facility.

“Hey Ran, Rindou, what happened here?” Mochi asked as he finally made it to the front.

The two stepped off the machine and walked over to the group, Rindou grinning as the elder brother shook his head, “I reminded him who the rightful heir to the DDR throne is.”

“Please, you only beat me once.” Ran sighed in exasperation and exhaustion.

“And that still means I beat you.” The long-haired man spoke smugly.

“Wait, so that crowd...was all for you two playing a rhythm game?” Kokonoi questioned, “That’s insane.”

“I hope they don’t follow us home, or Mikey is going to have our heads,” Kakucho pondering the probability, “Then again, they might see Takeomi and get a bit scared.”

“Is he still out smoking?” Kokonoi pondered, tilting his head to see if he could see him, “I can’t see him.”

“I thought I saw him come in with Sanzu earlier?” Ran spoke up, the entire group staring at him.

“That can’t be right. Takeomi would never go with Sanzu…” The blond-haired man stated, slightly bewildered by the information.

“Oh, there he is.” The younger Haitani pointed, Takeomi wearing a shit-eating grin as he walked back outside, the entire group then spotting a pissed-off Sanzu.

---x---

Sanzu was officially bored. He thought that coming to the arcade would be an excellent way to spend some time away from things, though it only seemed to create more issues. What was worse was everyone else seemed to be doing their own thing, so there was no one left to mess with or bother. After an hour of wandering around and playing several games that held his attention for a few minutes or less, he set his sights on a bigger and better prize: Akashi Takeomi.

Yes, in actuality Akashi Takeomi was dangerous. He likely could kidnap Sanzu as he slept, lock him in a freezer, and then feed him to the fish...Though where was the fun in not messing with someone like that? He smirked to himself as he walked outside to see the scar-faced man unsurprisingly smoking.

“Ew, how many have you smoked today?” Sanzu spoke, holding his nose in mock disgust.

Takeomi didn’t even look at him, “Half a pack, give or take.”

“Smoking’s bad for you, y’know.”

“Drugs are too, but you don’t see me trying to give you a 12-step lecture.” Takeomi retorted dryly, Sanzu cackling in response.

“I gotta hand it to ya. That one was funny.” The pink-haired man pointing to the other.

“What exactly do you want?”

Sanzu clasped his hands together, “Dearest Takeomi, you’ve been out here for over an hour...I think it’s about time you came inside and actually enjoyed what we came here for.”

“No.” He replied with a laugh, “Nice try though, really love the theatrics...maybe we can get you a job with the prostitutes.”

Sanzu groaned, “Can you stop being a stick in the mud for once and be fun?”

Takeomi felt something inside him snap. Honestly, he just wanted to sit outside and smoke. He wanted not to have to deal with a specific pink-haired buffoon who continued to ruin his Saturdays over and over each week. Instead, however, he turned to the other man with a sickly sweet smile, throwing his cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his shoe, “Sure, Sanzu, I’ll play one game...let’s go.”

“Really!” Sanzu’s face lit up with excitement, “Okay, let’s go!”

As they entered the arcade, Sanzu and Takeomi walked around a moment, regret beginning to wash over the older as his head began to pound from the noise and light.

“So, what do you want to play.” The pink-haired man asked, tipping his head to meet the other’s gaze.

“I don’t know, and I haven’t been to an arcade in fuck all knows.” Takeomi hissed, rubbing his temples, “Can you make it quick?”

“Jeez, I didn’t know they made you when the dinosaurs still walked the planet.” Sanzu grumbled, “Let’s go for a shooter then.” The two of them walking towards a Western-style shooting game that had plastic guns.

“Why am I not surprised.” The dark-haired man breathed, shaking his head.

“What? Sorry, I’m good at what I’m good at?” Sanzu mocked, shrugging his shoulders, “Anyways, it’s pretty self-explanatory...aim, pull the trigger, boom.”

Takeomi smirked. What Sanzu didn’t know was, he knew how to play this game. He knew far too well how to play this game because, during his days as a Brahma captain, Senju and himself would often sit in arcades and play. Sanzu Haruchiyo had sentenced himself to an early grave with this one, no matter how good a shot he was.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” The pink-haired man nodding his head towards the machine.

“I’m broke; you pay for it.”

“How the fuck are you broke if you- Nevermind.” Sanzu started, shaking his head and sliding his game card through the reader, “Let’s settle this.”

The older stepped up to the gallery, picking up the model gun and testing the weight in his hands before settling on a position.

Ready...Start!

Enemies started popping onto the screen, Sanzu quickly shooting the targets that were his color. He thought to himself it would be easy to best the older man until he realized he was keeping pace, and his score was already twice his based on the accuracy bonus.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Sanzu started, beginning to get ruffled by the sudden turn of events.

“What is it Sanzu, maybe you should aim a bit better, or is that too difficult?” Takeomi replied cooly as he blasted the head off of a zombie, “Oh, that was a good one.”

“Are you shitting me?” He cried out in response, “You actually know how to play this?” Sanzu was aiming for one of the enemy bonuses. However, he missed miserably. He swore under his breath, much to Takeomi’s delight.

“It’s been a good oh, what did you call it...era.” He mused as they made it to the boss level, “But for someone as young as you, this must be easy, right?” His voice dripping with poison.

“There’s still the boss level. I can-” He looked at the scores, feeling the color drain out of his face.

“What was that, Sanzu? My old deaf ears can’t hear you over the sound of your absolute thrashing.” He chuckled, “But don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll recover in time to hear you cry.”

“Do we just need to get you a nicotine drip? I don’t think the patch is gonna cut it with you.” Sanzu groaned, “Or, do you want one of my pills? Those might take your edge off too.”

“Take the joke, Sanzu,” He sighed, the game finishing out and Takeomi writing his initials in the records list, “Have a good time trying to beat that, though.” The older smirking, patting the other on the back as he walked towards the entrance, shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he pulled out another cigarette from his ever-dwindling pack.

Sanzu stared at the score in disbelief. He couldn’t beat that score today. He would have to come back another day to beat it, but he would beat it, no matter what. He stomped his foot in frustration, only to notice the entire Bonten group was looking, sans Mikey. He blinked and did what any person with an IQ between 85 and 115 would do...make a break for the food court before he could be harassed.

---x---

Was this the main reason Mikey agreed to this excursion? He didn’t want to admit to it. However, when the flyer said they had six different types of taiyaki in the featured food court, Mikey was sold instantly on the idea, as embarrassing as it was. He quietly walked towards the counter, scanning the menu with his pitch-black eyes only to discover there were, in fact, now eight taiyaki options. He smiled softly to himself as the person operating the counter looked on in confusion at the strange man in front of them, “Can I help you?” The food court employee asked him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

“Taiyaki, all of them,” Mikey said, sliding a large bill onto the counter.

“Do you mean all of the kinds or...all of them, all of them.” The employee clarified, thinking to themselves.

His eyes lit up, “I can have all of them?” He asked.

“As long as you pay for them, I don’t see why not...It might take a bit, though, because we warm them in an oven, so they get kinda crispy.” The employee explained, noticing the glimmer in his eyes.

“All of them, then.” Mikey clarified, adding another bill on the counter.

“Do I know you from somewhere, though?” They asked as they handed him his change, causing Mikey to pause for a brief moment.

“I haven’t ever met you before.” He replied, walking to one of the tables and sitting in the uncomfortably hard seating. It was nearly impossible to take a nap here due to how loud and bright it was, as well as how unbearable some of the smells were...Who honestly authorized it to smell like nacho cheese? Though, he also realized he was in a food court. Slouching down into the chair, he wondered what the rest of his gang had decided to put their minds to that day. He assumed Sanzu had found something involving guns and roped Takeomi into it as well, smirking because he knew that Takeomi had played before. Kokonoi had likely found something involving money, and The Haitani brothers honestly were talking up a storm about Dance Dance Revolution before they even arrived. Mochi and Kakucho were the two members of the group he wasn’t quite too sure about. He made a mental note to ask Kakucho when they boarded the bus again later that day.

“Alright, here are the first few, careful though, because they’re extremely hot.” The employee warned, setting a tray in front of the light-haired man, “I’ll keep them coming.”

Mikey reached forward and grabbed one of them, mentally noting that his hand was burning, though not exactly caring as the gratification of the taiyaki was going to be worth it in half a second. He bit in and leaned back in bliss. He was elated as he continued to eat through the pile of confections, completely losing track of time. He inwardly began to feel that the Russian death metal car ride from hell was worth it, and so was having to deal with Sanzu complaining about everything. And so was-

“Mikey, are you okay?”

He wanted to snap his neck.

Sanzu stared at the fair-haired man, who looked as though he had passed out in his chair, only for him to lean back up with a menacing stare slowly, “I’m fine.” He said coldly, taking another angry bite of the taiyaki.

“O...Oh…” The pink-haired man replied, nodding his head nervously as he backed away, “That’s a lot of taiyaki there.” He pointed towards the ever-growing pile of confections.

“I know. They’re mine.” Mikey responded as he finished the first, licking his lips and picking up another, “Where is everyone else?” He questioned as he bit into the sweet and bitter flavor of matcha.

“I saw them a couple of minutes ago; they’ll probably be here in a minute...Takeomi is smoking.” He informed the other, omitting the absolute ass-kicking he had received.

As if on cue, the group walked into the food court; however, the mood quickly changed as Kokonoi held up his phone, “We need to go, one of Ran’s fangirls posted them on their Instagram; and we need to get out of here, now .” His eyes narrowing.

“Why are we blaming my fangirl for this? They’re just as much of Rindou’s as mi-OW” Ran once again getting elbowed in the side by his brother.

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you didn’t name drop both me and yourself, so now you’re really more useless than Sanzu!” Rindou scolded him, “And you’re supposed to be older than me!”

“I’m RIGHT here!” Sanzu replied, raising his hands in exasperation.

“Cry me a river Sanzu, oh wait-” Mochi snorted, laughing at his own joke.

Kakucho grinned, “Mochi, that was surprisingly good coming from you.”

“I know, right. I surprise even myself sometimes.” The brawny man beamed.

“I hate all of you.” Sanzu huffed, crossing his arms.

“We hate you too; now let’s get going before we have to shoot our way out of a fucking arcade?” The long-haired blond replied in a haughty tone, motioning for the exit.

“Mikey, get a to-go box,” Kakucho suggested to the blond sitting at the table, eyeing the remaining taiyaki sadly.

“I’ll leave them.”

“Shotgun!” Sanzu yelled as they exited the arcade, Takeomi making eye contact with him and shaking his head.

“There isn’t even a passenger seat. What are the drugs hitting you that hard?” Kokonoi questioned him with a laugh.

“I’m assuming the cops are coming then?” Takeomi asked as he fished the keys to the bus out of his pocket, starting to walk with the group.

“ Oh yeah, Ran and Rindou are Instagram famous; Koko show him.” Mochi snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Why is it always...fine.” He attempted to argue as he pulled up the post on his phone, revealing a video with nearly 500 likes and 130 comments.

“Wait, I didn’t see it yet!” Ran yelled as he ran over to Kokonoi, smushing his head in to see, “Wow, I look good… Rindou does, too, of course.”

“Shut the fuck up, you cretaceous period cretin.” Rindou hissed, flipping him off from afar only to have Ran run after him.

“Stop running in the parking lot!” Kakucho yelled, shaking his head, “I swear to god…”

“You have to admit, though, it was a good time.” Mochi stated with a smile, “We should do this again.”

“Alright, everyone, get on the fucking bus, or I’m leaving without you,” Takeomi yelled, hopping into the driver’s seat.

“And who died and made you king?!” Sanzu yelled only to smack his head on the roof while boarding the bus, causing Mikey to snort from a laugh uncharacteristically.

“Wait, did Mikey just laugh?” Kokonoi asked, genuinely amazed.

“I made Mikey laugh!” Sanzu cheered, patting himself on the back.

“Wow, if only we could hurt you more...then maybe we could restore all of his emotions…” Takeomi whispered to himself.

“What was that?” Sanzu questioned, leaning forward.

“No, nope, nothing.” Takeomi lied badly.

“That’s what I thought,” Sanzu replied with a smile, sitting back in his seat, Takeomi groaning and reaching for his pack of cigarettes only to realize there weren’t any left. He sighed heavily, leaning back into the cushion of the driver’s seat and staring up at the tattered ceiling. It was going to be a long drive home, huh.

---x---

In Toyko, the conflict with a group named “Bonten” intensifies...However, they seem to have a soft side too…

It was once again a Wednesday, except this week Sanzu Haruchiyo was on time, and there were no off-topic discussions. Instead, all that was discussed was saving Bonten from the PR nightmare the Haitani brothers had created for the gang. And, of course, the now planned hit on Howie Mandel. However, the damage was done, and the gang’s reputation seemed to go from “dangerous and deadly” to “upcoming idol group.” However, Mikey didn’t seem too troubled by it, though it wasn’t exactly possible to tell what he thought until it was too late.

Takeomi sighed as he once again lit a cigarette, staring off into the distance, “Here’s to another fucking Wednesday.”

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minnewort · 3 years ago

Text

Allegretto Tranquillo (South x Takemichi)

Cross posted from AO3

Rating: M (no smut), Warning: Major Character Death, Angst/Hurt

Word count: 3.1k

Summary: Takemichi watched helplessly as the man he used to love brutally killed the man he was starting to love.

Chapter 1

Terano South was an enigma, a walking contradiction in every possible way. The man had a habit of shouting Italian musical terms when he got excited, yet as far as Takemichi knew, South didn’t play a single note of any instrument. Neither did he care much for Japanese delinquent cultures and customs, but he still adorned certain symbols carefully. And most importantly, despite his violent reputation in the fighting ring, South was a gentle lover.

As fast as a whirlwind, South had decided that he wanted Takemichi from the moment they had met. He remembered South and his Rokuhara Tandai underlings were cornering them in the middle of the road to try and scout Draken, the latter refusing to concede even when hits after hits were being blown at him. He had thought Draken was a giant, but even he was dwarfed by South’s imposing stature. Uncharacteristically too quickly, Draken was defeated.

Then, South looked at him straight in the eye.

“Hanagaki Takemichi,” he called out. “Toman’s former first division captain.”

He didn’t understand what it was that drew the other man’s attention to him. How did South even knew who he was? He was just going to be collateral damage, he presumed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Haitani brothers stretching their muscles. Kakucho, his childhood best friend, avoided his eye.

He braced himself for a hit, already imagining greeting the nurses at the hospital and eating out of a tube. His next words shook him to the core.

“Be my darling,” South said.

Takemichi froze. This was eerily similar to the first time he had met Mikey, when the commander had called him his bitch. What was it about delinquent gods and claiming people as their possessions?

“Hanagaki, I asked you a question,” he continued.

Did he? It didn’t sound like a question to him. And “darling”? What did that even mean? Did South want to keep him as a sex toy? Takemichi realized he was trembling.

“Takemitchy, don’t,” he heard Draken breathe out from beneath, still writhing on the ground from the pain. Meanwhile, Inupi laid unconscious on the cold pavement next to him.

South shot Draken an annoyed look, already starting to move towards the injured men. God, if he kept at it, Draken and Inupi might actually die while he stood there uselessly like a coward. He couldn’t fight, but he could do this.

“A-alright,” he finally managed to shake out the word. “I’ll be your…whatever it was. Just don’t hurt my friends.”

He would just go along with South for now and find a way to reach Mikey later. Couldn’t have done that if he was dead anyway.

“Good. From now on, you’re under Rokuhara Tandai as well,” South laughed, grinning widely.

Said gang started to disperse, and he was too busy helping Draken and Inupi to their feet to think about what that meant.

That was the beginning of his troubles.

Draken had followed him into the gang, insisting that Takemichi couldn’t deal with Rokuhara Tandai alone. He didn’t want to drag his friend into the plan, but it would be a lie to say he wasn’t relieved to have someone he could trust amongst the snake dens. Some of the looks Rokuhara members were sending him gave him chills.

“What can a scrawny shrimp like you bring to our unparalleled gang? How are we supposed to defeat Brahman and Kanto Manji like this?” a nameless guy taunted.

“I don’t care about your petty gang wars. With or without Rokuhara, I’m gonna defeat Kanto Manji’s leader, Sano Manjiro,” he said, irritated.

Everyone looked at him in disbelief, next to him, Draken sighed under his breath.

South only roared in laughter, “Maestoso! A small fry daring to interfere with the Three Deities!” and continued with the meeting.

After their induction ceremony, South singled him out. That alone drew a few whistles here and there, but he ignored them. If he was to take down Mikey, he had to get used to the nature of gang life.

Stepping into South’s makeshift office, he was surprised to hear soft, slow, and soothing music playing on vinyl. He was surprised to learn this was South’s music taste. He thought the man would be into HipHop or Rap blasting on a boombox, not this frail melody on an even more delicate-looking vinyl machine. He stared at the cover of the record.

“It reminds me of you,” South said, closing the door behind him.

Takemichi jumped in alarm, he hadn’t noticed him entering the room.

“Reverie. The song. You always have that look on you, lost in your own daydream, even in the middle of a fight. That’s why I like you.”

“You….You like me,” he repeated.

That was one of the weirdest things anyone had told him, but maybe in South’s twisted world, surrounded by scary-looking brutes, he did stand out, albeit in a pathetic way.

“Did I stutter?”

“Uh no, I just don’t understand… Like, you meant, romantically?”

“Sure. Lover, boyfriend, amor, whatever word punks like you use. Like that,” South shrugged. “What, you got one already?”

Takemichi could feel himself heating up in embarrassment. It had taken him months to figure out that he had a crush on Mikey, and here South was, just saying it so nonchalantly literally a day after they met.

“No, I don’t have… anything like that. But… there’s someone else…” he trailed off, hoping South wouldn’t catch it.

“And what happened to that someone?”

“He left.” It stung to say it out loud.

“So, what you’re saying is, you’re free, and that other guy doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“No, that’s not it! He’s just trying to protect everyone, I know it! Mikey will never…”

He realized too late that he’d fallen into South’s trap, he said his name. After he’d just done blurting out his plan and non-loyalty to one of the most dangerous gangs in Tokyo. He was already messing up even before he began anything.

“So that’s the real reason behind your death wish to go against Sano? Vivvooooo.” South looked absolutely thrilled, tilting his head back to laugh.

“Wimpy little things like you won’t even get near Sano, let alone bring him down. I’m the only one with the strength to do that.”

“Then lend me your strength, Terano. Help me bring Mikey back, and I’ll repay the debt with everything I have,” he tried to sound as tough as he could.

“I thought you were a sonatina, but you actually are a capriccio, Hanagaki,” South said, already walking away. “You’re dismissed.”

None of those words meant anything to him, but he was glad to have gained an ally. For the first time since he came back, he felt confident about himself. Saving Mikey finally felt within reach.

He’d half expected South to call in favors right away, but to his surprise and relief, the man remained nothing short of amicable. He didn’t even bring up the dating thing anymore. Takemichi would have to disappear forever, like Mikey did, if anyone even thought about him and South in that way.

He started hanging out at the Rokuhara base more often. Some of the guys still made his skin crawl, but South himself wasn’t too bad. He beat up the ones who called Takemichi degrading names, and really went to town on those who questioned his place in the gang. There was no question of South’s iron rule on Rokuhara.

When they were alone, however, he learned of a softer side to this battle-hardened leader. He was told of his childhood in Brazil, surrounded by death and violence since he was born. South told him he reminded him of his mother, who would also dream away their troubles. Yet another familial figure that he was being compared to, Takemichi flinched. But it made more sense now, South’s attachment to him.

Sometimes, he thought South might want to embrace him, but he never did. Towering at 7 feet tall, he could easily crush him, he said. It was true, even just a pat of the back sent him stumbling forward. So, South maintained a physical distance to him, like a bull in a china shop.

Mikey used to always cling to him, draping an arm over his shoulder.

Times like that, without meaning to, his mind drifted to Mikey. Where was he now, he wondered? Was he thinking of Takemichi as he was thinking of him now? Selfishly, he didn’t want to believe his friend would push even him away, surely, he must be different from everyone else. Even though they were never officially together, all the tender smiles and secret kisses between them must have been something, right? He had even broken up with Hina for Mikey!

But just what exactly was he to Mikey?

It all fell apart the night of Draken’s death, shot by a stray bullet from an unknown sniper. South arrived at the scene almost immediately, eyeing Takemichi kneeling motionless in the rain.

“It was Brahman,” he came to stand next to Takemichi, helping him up.

“How…How can you be so sure?”

“Who else could it be?” South grunted. “Unless you think Mikey was capable of killing his old vice commander.”

“No, Mikey could never hurt his friends.”

He didn’t think he knew this new Mikey anymore, but that was the one thing he was certain of.

Brahman arrived. Then, Mikey on his bike, Kanto Manji trailing closely behind. He tried to catch his eye to no avail. Though he didn’t think Mikey was really seeing anyone, his eyes were blank and hollow.

To Takemichi, he said, “Stay back, capriccio.”

“This is Draken’s requiem!” he roared to everyone else. “This is war!”

The three gangs charged at each other. Amidst the clash, Takemichi stood on the sideline, trying, and failing to keep track of what was happening, of who was fighting who. The weaker delinquents dropped to the ground one by one, until it was only the top dogs remaining. Mikey still remained unmoved.

He tried to get through to him, running to the middle of the battlefield. South appeared in front of him before he could take another step. Placing a hand on Takemichi’s shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze, he warned, “Move, Hanagaki.”

When he didn’t budge, South simply stepped aside. A body flew towards him, startling them both. Looking at the direction where it had come from, he realized Mikey was approaching them. For the first time in the whole night, he was doing something. Takemichi was relieved, and then alarmed.

South charged at Mikey immediately. The two were truly each other’s equal, it was a display of strength like never seen before. But at this rate, the two people who he cared about were going to kill each other.

He stepped in front of South, facing Mikey.

“You gotta stop this, Mikey,” he didn’t have it in him to say, “or else you’ll be a murderer.”

Mikey was still not seeing him. He looked at him, but there was no recognition in his eyes. Then Mikey moved closer to him, and Takemichi thought maybe he had succeeded in breaking the spell, maybe his words sounded enough like Shinichiro to convince him, maybe-

Mikey broke his arm like it was a twig.

“You are in my way,” he said simply, moving past him towards South.

Takemichi wanted to shout out to him, to tell him to stop, but the pain in his arm blurred his visions and clogged his throat. He only heard South roared his name in response, a faint “capriccio” echoing in the rain, then the thud of a body onto the ground.

He ran over to him, praying that it was just a trick of his mind. The sight of South’s mangled face pulled him back to reality.

“He’s gone,” he whispered to no one.

He took off his shirt and covered South’s upper body with it; he didn’t want the rain to get to him. Then he remembered, it was no use, the body was already getting cold.

The commotion behind him as the gangs scrambled away was not important to him, nor was Koko’s declaration of victory for Kanto Manji. But he had to try one last time.

Dragging himself to where Mikey was standing unfazed, he shouted, “You can’t do this! This is wrong!”

Between punches to his face and kicks to his body, he belatedly realized that South was his reverie, and Mikey his nightmare.

Chapter 2: Coda

Coda (n.): a passage that brings a musical piece to an end.

There are waves of applause rippling through the concert hall. The accompanying choir, dressed smartly in expensive suits and dresses, smiles fondly.

From his shabby apartment in inner city Rio de Janeiro, he can see the statue of Jesus Christ spreading his arms and looking down at the world. He always spits at the ground when he sees it. Terano South has never knelt down for anyone or anything, let alone a deity that has abandoned those who need him the most. In the cartel world, the only God that exists or matters is violence.

And yet, at that moment, he regrets never learning how to pray. He needs it now, the strength that can only come from a divine force. The only word he knows is amen, so he repeats it, over and over in his head, for God to grant him one last moment with Takemichi.

Where is Takemichi now? South doesn’t know how much time he has left, but to die in the arms of his little darling doesn’t sound so bad. With all his strength drained, he doesn’t think he can accidentally hurt Takemichi anymore. Maybe he can touch his face, if Takemichi lets him, of course.

Is that his capriccio crying out his name?

It sounds painful. Is Takemichi in trouble? No, please don’t let him be hurt. South needs to get to him, protect him from the devil that is Sano Manjiro. He will shield him and he will not let go.

But his entire body is numb. He can’t move his arms nor his legs. His eyes feel heavy, something is pushing at his lids. It keeps pushing and then disappearing, only to be replaced by another one just like it. A four-beat meter.

It’s wet, slides off his skin easily.

Mamãe, why are you crying?

Mother’s hair is dipping into the puddle of vomit next to her head. She must have been too weak to get up and use the plastic basin at the foot of the bed. He will help her sit up, wipe her mouth, and clean the sick, like he always does nowadays. She is crying, apologizing, saying how it will be easier for him once she’s dead. Like always, he’ll brush it off with a smile.

But he can’t move.

His capriccio is probably crying too. That little crybaby. Don’t waste your tears on an undeserving brute like South.

He knows Takemichi doesn’t love him in the same way he does. Not when Sano’s still in the picture. In fact, this whole operation is to save that guy. Someone even more undeserving than himself.

But he doesn’t mind. He can sense the weight of the world is pushing down on those slender shoulders of his darling. Love is supposed to be fulfilling, not pressuring. His love for him can be just that, a support pillar. Takemichi doesn’t need to return his feelings if he doesn’t want to.

They’ve only known each other for a few months, getting closer in even less time. South can’t explain the intensity of his love for the little blond. He’s afraid if he tries to explain, it will all fall apart. He’s never good at thinking anyway, his entire life has been moved by instinct.

And right now, his instincts are screaming out for Takemichi. The only valuable treasure he has on this earth.

The conductor turns a page of the music sheet with his right hand, the baton in his other hand still in mid-air. The piece reaches its climax, the C note in the lower octave reverbs majestically.

He can’t die just yet. The battle is still going on. The Rokuhara guys don’t have enough loyalty to South to protect Takemichi til the end. They’ll leave as soon as trouble arises. He has to personally make sure that he’s safe.

MOVE. His muscles aren’t listening.

Japan is so much quieter than his hometown. He likes walking on the bridge and feeling the unpolluted air sweeping by his body. That torrential water underneath the bridge looks fierce enough to carry a dead body away without detection. One of the tall brothers, he can’t remember their names now, is telling him of a legendary fighter they should recruit.

He shouldn’t have let Takemichi go around on his own. Something like this was bound to happen. But South has simply been too arrogant about his forcefulness. Apologize, he must apologize to his capriccio. If he can’t protect him, that’s the least he can do.

All the wimps in juvie are lying on the ground. The guards rush out to the yard from their position, shooting tranquilizers at South. Barbarians. One of the runts he beat up is picked up from the ground onto a stretcher, ambulance siren blaring from afar. What’s the point, that kid’s as good as gone. Save the money for the funeral.

If he just focuses on getting through each second, he’ll be okay. Just one second more after another.

His “father” is staring at the barrel of his gun. South has woken him up just a few minutes ago. That monster doesn’t deserve to die peacefully in his sleep. Click. Gone.

It’s getting darker. Is it nightfall already? But wasn’t he just finishing his lunch at the karaoke club a second ago?

South is not a man afraid of death. He has been surrounded by it since he was born. To him, death is just as permanent as life. One can always rely on a dead person to stay dead, right where they were buried, or dumped into the ocean, or fed to wild animals. A living person might as well be a gust of wind.

Takemichi. He needs to go to him. To do what, it doesn’t matter anymore. Just being with him, being near him, is enough. If he can only do that, his death will be without regret.

Why is he hearing church bells now? Debussy is a genius. They are in a large auditorium with golden cross-arches and marble walls. His little capriccio is in the audience, beaming at him encouragingly. But the pedals of his old piano is broken, he can’t play this piece properly. It frustr

#tokyo revengers #south terano #hanagaki takemichi #south x takemichi #my fics

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slashersins-abandoned · 4 years ago

Text

anonymous asked :

Hii! I love your writing so much 🥰 I was wondering if you could write something for Brahms Mikey Jesse & Thomas (and maybe poly!ghostface if you feel like?) when their pacifist soft s/o who they never kill in front of kisses their hands after they kill to protect her? I need some fluff in my life . Thank you!!

brahms

you knew brahms was a complicated man . prone to kindness , clinging to you constantly , begging for attention . prone to tantrums , destroying everything in his path , making the walls shake with his fury . prone to love , petting your hair , your face , whispering desperate words of affection . you never wanted to admit it , unable to think too long about how brahms was also very prone to violence . you were lucky , you’d heard of what happened in the heelshire manner before moving in . about a man being slaughtered , a nanny attacked and chased around like cat and mouse with the cat having an unfair advantage . you knew there were murders reported when people broke in . you knew brahms was capable . but you wer lucky . you never experienced it first hand .

the man must have been drunk . must have thought no one lived in the house despite the fact you put effort into making it look lived in . he must have been confused . that’s what you wanted to think when you heard the kitchen door be busted in . you made a mistake of not running to hide . no , you went to see what happened . it seemed you were just as unexpected as the intruder was , because he paused before taking after you like a bat out of hell , yelling and waving a wrench in his hand . you’d screamed , and brahms had nearly fallen as he clamored through the walls to seek you out .

brahms wasted no time in coming out of the walls , taking in the scene of some grimy intruder about to bring a wrench down on your prone form . he saw red . chest heaving and blood thundering in his ears as he ripped the wrench out of the man’s hands and used it to beat against the man’s skull . the intruder tried to put up a fight , he even tried reaching out to you for help , but you were too wide eyed , watching as brahms violently ended this man’s life for breaking into his home , for hurting his significant other . there was no mercy . and when brahms was sure that the man had breathed his last , he looked to you . and you saw no remorse in his eyes for the kill .

the adrenaline coursing through him had him forgetting your distaste for gore and violence . he just needed to know you were okay . he thought you might flinch , might cry . but instead you took his outstretched hands and bought them to your face . kissing over his knuckles as tears finally fell . brahms pulled you into a tight embrace , hushing you as you spilled out your thank yous , i love yous , i was so scared . he’d dispose of the mess later . right now you needed him . and he needed you .

michael

michael has never killed in front of you . there’s never been a reason to . you’re always at home , at work , at school , somewhere he isn’t when he’s destroying and ending lives . the most you see is a bloody knife in your kitchen and filthy clothes in the hamper . you don’t like it , hating to think about those who lost their life to michael’s blood lust . you know you’re lucky to have never seen it . to only deal with the smallest of traces of the destruction he leaves .

it’s a nice evening for a walk . work was running late , and so you stayed extra . and after such a long shift , you were excited to get home and hopefully find michael sitting on the couch . maybe he’d tolerate you leaning on him as you forget the stresses of the day . you don’t notice you’re being followed . maybe it’s due to you being lost in your own little world . maybe it’s due to the fact you’ve gotten used to the feeling of being watched by micahel that it just slips your mind completely . but you do feel the head of a gun shove into your back as a hand wraps around your mouth .

there’s a demand that you give up your money or else . the gun digging in your back painfully as gloved hands squeeze your jaw hard . another demand , a near desperate shout for your any and everything in your bag . and then you feel the man press against you , a weak strained noise leaving him , something thick and warm dripping down the back of your neck and over your shoulders . the weight of the man get’s heavy , and then he falls to the side , gargling on his own blood , twitching and wide eyed as he stairs at the sky .

you turn so fast you almost fall , taking a few steps back only to meet michael’s gaze . a kitchen knife in his hand , wet and dripping crimson . he watches you for a moment . daring you to run . and you do , but not away from him , to him . he lets you wrap your arms around him chest , sobbing as you cling to him . michael allows the contact until you even your breathing . you want to stay and cling to him , fingers in a white knuckle grip on his jumpsuit . you just saw him kill and yet you still stay . because you love him . because despite everything , you know at least some small part of him might love you to .

jesse

he has enemies . he knows this . he’s rich and powerful and a murderer . he’s bound to have a few outside forces trying to come down on him . jesse had never thought , however , that this enemy would come from within . preston was a wanna be . he’d been trying to frame himself as the new , better chromeskull . he’d been added to jesse’s shit list the moment the man found out , making the other rush off into hiding and prepare for the inevitable . and preston … preston thought he was smart . thought he could make jesse suffer . he thought he could take you away from him . preston had never been so wrong .

he’d taken you . taken you with threats to torture you . the fury inside of jesse was untamed . preston thought he was so smart , but jesse was smarter . he found the little hide away without any difficulty . always sloppy and so easy to track . preston was pathetic . and jesse would be doing the world a fucking favor by ending his life .

he’d never wanted to drag you into this world . he wanted you free from it . but here you were , tapped to a chair , tears streaming down your face . preston was smug as he watched you , not noticing the gleam of chrome behind him . not realizing that jesse was here , close . he didn’t notice until jesse squatted down and cut through his Achilles tendon in one deep slash . the larger man was quick to disarm preston , using the knife he’d been holding to stab through his hand with so much force it settled into the floor . jesse hand’t wanted you to see this side of him . but it open for you . jesse’s heart set on one thing and one thing only . dismembering and torturing this betrayer of trust and kidnapper of his love . it slow and agonizing , and you had to close your eyes and look away , unable to take the scene . but when the screaming stopped you looked back , seeing the way jesse’s broad shoulders shook and his head titled back .

you made a noise , and it drew his attention . he was on you in and instant . cutting you free and tugging at tap , even if it hurt , he wanted it off of you . before he could sign anything you were tugging him in , pushing his chrome mask off his face and kissing him , asking if he was okay , telling him how worried you were about him . he couldn’t help but bring you in close , bloodstained , gloved hands ridding up your shirt . you’d seen him at his truest , and yet you worried for him instead of yourself . he couldn’t ever let you go now .

thomas

the meat had got out . high on adrenaline and fear , the girl had somehow used her bloody wrists to wiggle out of her restraints . thomas has roared with fury when he saw her missing . grabbing his chainsaw as he quickly stomped upstairs . he needed to find and end them before they had a chance to retaliate against his family .

he was panting , looking for blood trails to lead him in the right direction when he heard you scream . his heart stopped for half a second as fear and rage flooded him . they had you . they would hurt you , take you away . he couldn’t lose you . he could’t .

the woman was clawing at you , sobbing as she dug her jagged nails into your skin , you tried to crawl away , tried to push her off , panic flooding you . soon her begs became screeches of betrayal as she realized you were one of those monsters who had killed her friends . her hands balled into fists and she raised them , bringing them down on you were she could . she didn’t get more than two hits in before tommy brought the chainsaw down on her , tearing into her back and through her spine , splattering the both of you in blood .

thomas kicked away the corpse , dropping the chainsaw as he looked down at you . fear in his eyes as he panted . he wanted to reach out , to hold you . but how could he ? you saw him kill . you would think he was a monster . and he deserved it for not tying the meat up tighter . for not just killing the meat right off the bat .

you can only look up at thomas , trying to calm your breathing .the fear and self hate in his eyes . the utter loneliness … you’re shaky on your feet , walking towards him . taking his hands in yours and kissing over his palms . he can’t help the sob that falls from his lips as he presses his forehead to your shoulder . and you can’t help that you press his hands over your heart , showing him you’re okay . it’s okay . every things okay .

billy & stu

the boys are possessive and protective . they don’t like when people try to step in on their territory . it’s not you they don’t trust . it’s them . and there is only so much they can take before they snap . so it’s no surprise that they do . they don’t have their gear . but they do have a pick pocketed pocket knife and rage , and that will just have to do the trick . they don’t have time plan , they only have time to act . because that drunken bastard hasn’t left you alone all night , and he decided it would be find to just fucking grab at you despite you telling him to stop .

they gang up on you , putting themselves between you and the drunken bitch fuck who was trying to grind on you . they don’t want you to see , one of them backing you up , while the other all but guts the bastard in a swift motion , careful not to get blood on them . it happens so fast , the screaming , the boys acting shocked , the sudden need to rush outside , to leave the bar and sneak away . stu blocks you from view , billy leading the three of you to a gas station . with and outdoor bathroom .

they shove you in , billy washing the blood off his hands and trying to clean out the sink the best he can . stu trying to keep you from looking , but it’s too late . you can put it all together . and you’re wide eyed as you look between your boys . the looks in there eyes show you that there is a secret they’ve been hiding . something dark , something they’re scared of you finding out . and as you watch their faces everything falls into place .

this isn’t how they wanted you to find out . they didn’t want you to find out . even if they both knew that with time you would . and here in a shitty public bathroom their secret became exposed . they wait for your response . teetering on the edge of fear and rejection . when you take their hands in your own . raising them to your cheeks and give them that soft smile , they feel relieved . and you’re next words , accepting and concerned for them have them both laughing and pulling you in for kisses . just stay safe , for me .

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slashersins · 4 years ago

Note

mmmm somft reader with their murder men in a somft moment ! ! !

brahms

michael

jesse

he has enemies . he knows this . he’s rich and powerful and a murderer . he’s bound to have a few outside forces trying to come down on him . jesse had never thought , however , that this enemy would come from within . preston was a wanna be . he’d been trying to frame himself as the new , better chromeskull . he’d been added to jesse’s shit list the moment the man found out , making the other rush off into hiding and prepare for the inevitable . and preston . . . preston thought he was smart . thought he could make jesse suffer . he thought he could take you away from him . preston had never been so wrong .

thomas

you can only look up at thomas , trying to calm your breathing .the fear and self hate in his eyes . the utter loneliness . . . you’re shaky on your feet , walking towards him . taking his hands in yours and kissing over his palms . he can’t help the sob that falls from his lips as he presses his forehead to your shoulder . and you can’t help that you press his hands over your heart , showing him you’re okay . it’s okay . every things okay .

billy & stu

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the-real-bruce-banner · 4 years ago

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The group was preparing to embark on a dangerous journey in the next couple of hours. Everybody was collecting and packing the supplies they would need for the next day. It had been hectic earlier, but it was night now and the nerves and jitters of hanging with unfamiliar strangers was retreating.

Dieter had a Hawaiian bread roll halfway in his mouth, engaged with the schematics of the plan. He had been staring at the blue sheet so long it was starting to make his head throb, his brain fighting an unseen cage match. Dieter scratched his head and swayed a little. As he munched on his roll, he swore he could feel eyes watching him so he did a quick sweep around the room.

Scott and Maria were at one of the tables, eating some sandwiches together and laughing about something. He noticed how happy they always seemed together, they always made him feel welcomed. Then there were Mikey and Chambers, they were playing cards together while Marianne smoked on something, watching silently behind them.

Then there was Vanderohe who was sitting by himself, shut away from the rest of the group. He had his headphones over his ears and his head against the back of the wall, eyes closed. He looked so peaceful, but he was the only one facing Dieter, which means he had to be the one he had felt watching. That or he was just losing his sense of perception.

Dieter made his way over to the man sitting on a lonesome bench, in his own little world. Something always drew Dieter to the man and he didn’t know what it was, but it was a strong feeling. Dieter knew he didn’t have many friends and he didn’t always know how to have conversations with other people but with Van, it’s like they were picking up where they left off.

“What are you listening to?”

Dieter tilted his head slightly in concentration and when he realized he could not be heard, he gently tapped Vanderohe on the shoulder. Vander pulled one of his headphones off his ear and clicked his phone, glaring daggers up at the man.

“What,” Vanderohe huffed. Dieter pushed past the glares and smiled.

“I asked what you were listening to.” The pair locked eyes for a moment and Vander could tell this wasn’t a fight he was going to win.

“What do you think I’m listening to,” Vanderohe asked, his straight face not budging.

“Probably...,” Dieter hummed, pondering seriously.

This was obviously a set-up question, meant to uncover the one truth Vander saw coming. Someone who was black and had his body built like his could only “stereotypically” listen to one thing. He knew how the world perceived him and Dieter wasn’t going to be any different, but the blue-eyed man was so intrigued by this new game he didn’t even notice the trap.

“Adele,” Dieter remarked. Vanderohe stared and Dieter clenched his teeth, waiting for his response, like he was expecting a prize to fall out of the air.

Vanderohe smiled and then started chuckling to himself. “Adele?”

“Yeah, Adele...do you not listen to Adele,” Dieter stared questioningly.

“Of course I listen to Adele! Who in their right mind doesn’t? I just assumed-,” Vanderohe started but stopped himself before he could finish.

“Assumed what?”

Vander thought maybe he should left it go but Dieter looked genuinely confused. “I assumed you would say rap or hip hop. I’m sure that’s what most people think I’m listening to when they watch me.”

“Do you not like rap music,” Dieter questioned, sitting down next to him.

“No, I do. It’s just I know people look at me. I know they see someone scary and unapproachable.”

“I don’t think you’re either one of those things,” Dieter added trying to be optimistic.

“Trust me, I noticed,” Vanderohe muttered. The two paused in silence before Dieter cleared his throat.

“So did I win?” Dieter grinned.

“Win what?”

“The song game we were just playing. Is that what you’re listening to?” Dieter leaned a little closer, a wide grin on his face.

“First of all, that wasn’t a game and second, no that’s not what I’m listening to.”

“So what are you listening-,” Dieter got cut off by Vanderohe taking his headphones from around his neck and gently put them over his ears.

“Now before I turn the music on, I want you to listen. Like really listen, ok?” Dieter nodded and put his hands over the headphones, nodding a little so that Vander could understand how serious he was about this.

Vanderohe hit play and Dieter instantly locked eyes with him, holding his gaze. Dieter stood for a moment trying to hear everything and then he felt it, the rhythm. He closed his eyes and started to nod his head along, a small smile on his face. “I think I feel it.” Van stood up as well and watched the man reach his plane of existence.

They stood together for a minute just enjoying the moment. Vanderohe pulled the headphones off of Dieter and pulled him out his trance. “What was that,” Dieter inquired.

“That my friend, is soul music. You can feel it, in here,” Van said placing his hand on Dieter’s heart. Dieter looked down at the man’s hand and Vander pulled away quickly.

“I know soul, Stevie Wonder! Aretha Franklin! I like them,” Dieter proclaimed, then he started to belt, “R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me!” Vander stared at him with a straight face before giving a small grin.

“Yeah, just like that.” Vander put the headphones back around his neck. “So did you like the song I played? Easy by the Commodores? It’s actually one of my favorite songs.”

“I actually quite like it now too, even though it’s very graphic song,” Dieter grinned and that made Vander grin for a second before realizing everything he said.

“How is it graphic? It’s about leaving someone you love.”

“The song you played me was about other things,” Dieter side eyed, eye brows raised. He was trying his best to conceal a blush. “You know...like sex. It specifically said ‘Let’s get it on’. Unless, I am mistaken in some manner.”

Vanderohe looked at his phone and looked at the title. “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye was headlining his screen. “I played the wrong song!” He started to tap his gadget, scrolling through his playlist. “I must’ve hit shuffle, by mistake.”

Vander tried his best to contain his slight embarrassment. “Out of the songs in the world, why that one,” he thought to himself.

“It is okay, it is a great song. I am sure this ‘Easy’ song you speak of is amazing as well. Maybe sometime later we can try to find it again, I’d love to hear it.” Dieter gave his classic smile and Vander felt the tension leave his body.

“Yeah okay.” Vander soothed. Van sat back down and Dieter gently sat beside him. The two sat together for a bit, the silence being slightly comforting. Vander felt eyes on him and he looked over, he had caught Dieter staring before turning towards another direction.

“I noticed you have you’re own headphones too, what do you listen to,” Vander chimed, which made Dieter turn to him with a big smile.

“I’m actually quite a fan of Micheal Jackson and Selena Gomez.”

“That’s a range,” Vanderohe added.

“Not really if you think about it, he is the king of pop right? And she is a pop star, so they fall under the same genre. I’m also a fan of the song ‘Hey, Soul Sister’. You know that one?”

“Hey, soul sister ain’t that mr. Mister on radio, stereo. The way you move ain’t fair you know,” Dieter sang.

“Hey, soul sister, I don’t wanna miss a single thing you do,” Vanderohe muttered.

“Tonight,” they said together. Dieter laughed and hit his knee in excitement.

“Yeah,” Dieter exclaimed. Vander smirked for a second before turning back the other direction.

“You should probably get some sleep, we have a busy schedule tomorrow. And by ‘busy’ I mean life or death.” Vander put his head back up against the wall, eyes closed again.

Dieter understood the hint and cleared his throat, standing back up. “Oh yeah, of course. I should probably head back over to the schematics, give another once over. You can never be too prepared with a Götterdämmerung.” Dieter strolled away, trying his best to act normal.

Vanderohe turned his head and admired the man as he sauntered away. He couldn’t help but watch the man struggle to keep his excitement to a minimum about the vault. Van looked down at his phone and scrolled through the playlist and found “Rock with me” by Micheal Jackson. He turned the volume up and put his head against the wall, closing his eyes.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

#otp: would you do me the honor #otp: get behind me #dieter x vanderohe #vandieter #Ludwig dieter #dieter #vanderohe #army of the dead #AOTD #army of the dead spoilers #I figured I’d post on here and AO3 #I’d like to contribute some more to the fandom

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viking-raider · 4 years ago

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The Immortal Sky - Part VII *Mature*

Summary: It’s a battle to survive and not everyone will make it.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 17,431

Rating: M - Dystopian!AU, Futuristic!AU, Language, Dark Themes: Severe Angst, Violence, Torture, Kidnapping, Traumatic Death, Blood, Life Threatening Injures, Severe Trauma, Life Changing Events, Hurt/Comfort, and a teeny bit of Fluff

Inspiration: I’ve always wanted to write a futuristic fic!

Author’s Note: This is the final official Chapter of The Immortal Sky, I will be doing a short Epilogue to round things out though. I hope you enjoy this and thank you so much for all the love, comments and support! A super thanks to @wondersofdreaming for being a great support, listening to my crazy thoughts, giving me amazing suggestions and ideas, and just being an all around amazing friend!

You gasped, sitting up on your elbows, heart pounding and drenched in a cold sweat as the nightmare continued to dig its claws into your waking moments.

“Henry?” You called out, instinctively, before remembering he wasn't there.

Still.

Letting out a hard and shaky breath, you dropped back onto the mattress, damp from your sweat. You stared up at the ceiling, gripping the blankets in shaking fists as hot and furious tears dripped over your temples and into your hair.

“He isn't coming back.” You choked on your own snot. “They've captured and killed him, I just know it. He's died trying to protect me and there's nothing I can do to stop it. To make up for it, so his pain and death weren't in vain.” You took gasping breaths and only choked more on your tears. “I'm so sorry Henry. Oh my god, I am so sorry.” You wailed, crying without abandon.

You beat your fists on the mattress, outraged at your negativity and ease of giving up on him. Henry wouldn't have given up on you, he would have stayed strong and came for you, like he had when you ran away from him in London. Jerking up, you sat on the edge of the bed, the springs of the mattress creaking under your shifting weight.

“He's still alive.” You forced yourself to say out loud. “Henry is still alive, and I will find him.”

Resolved to this conviction, you stood up and dressed, pressing his shirt to your face and took a deep breath, inhaling his earthy and masculine scent, fortifying you, before slipping it on over your own shirt and finished tying your shoelaces. You weren't completely sure what to do or how to go about finding, and potentially saving, Henry. You weren't the amazing and seasoned High Marshal Henry was, is. You tried putting yourself in his shoes, hard as it was to fill size eleven boots. So, you started in the only place that made sense to you, the Black Bone pub, where your brother and his handler were known to frequent. So, locking your room, you trekked the six blocks from the hotel to the dingy pub, heart pounding in your throat as you entered.

“What can I get ya?” The bartender asked you as you approached the counter.

“Um,” You looked at the stained menu taped to the bar top. “A Virgin Mojito, please.”

The bartender lifted a brow at you, shrugged his shoulders and turned away from you. A minute later, he set the tall glass in front of you and held out his hand, wanting payment. Sighing, you dug out the meager change you had and slapped it into his hand, picked up your drink and took a seat in the corner, the same corner you occupied with Henry the day before.

You tried your best to look as inconspicuous as you possibly could, keeping your eyes on the tv, like Henry had, swirling your drink with the thin black straw inside of it and checking out everyone in the room from the corner of your vision. It was slightly more busy than it had been the morning before, but there was no sign of your brother, Knox or Henry. What your inexperienced eye failed to notice, was the bartender keeping his eye on you, for several minutes, before going to the back of the store room and making a phone call.

“Yeah, Ashe. It's me, Bruce, the owner of the Black Bone. You asked me to keep an eye out for a lady.” He rattled off your description. “Told me to call if I saw her around.”

“And?” Ashe replied, staring at the black, web-like, 3-D printed cast on the hand he busted in his fight with Henry.

“She's back.” Bruce told him, stepping out of the store room and peeking around the corner, to make sure you were still there, clearly ignoring your drink. “Sitting in a booth, right now.”

“Excellent.” Ashe grinned, wolfishly. “I'll be right over, let me know if she leaves.”

Bruce hung up with Ashe and moved back to serve his new customers, keeping his eye on you the whole time. You finally took a sip of your drink, the mint was refreshing to your taste-buds with the slight twinge of the lime's tartness, when the door of the pub chimed as it opened and from the corner of your eye you saw who entered, making your blood run cold, the man from the day before, who had given Henry the creeps and chased you both down the alleyway. Your hands shook as he glanced in your direction, a faint smirk on his thin lips, you noticed the cast on his arm and drew conclusions; knowing he and Henry must have gotten into a fight. Wishing you had the bartender put the rum into your drink after all, you gulped it down and tried to get up as casually and calmly as possible, eyes darting to the lopsided and hand written sign above the bathroom door and headed that direction.

The bathroom was big enough for a discolored and filthy toilet and a teeny window above that. Locking the bathroom door, you climbed top of the toilet, wobbling on the unstable tank to peek out the cloudy windowpane. There was another alleyway behind the pub, but you couldn't see where either end of it led out too, but you weren't going back out into the bar area with Ashe there, waiting to pounce on you. The window was wedged into the frame, sticking it into place from years of hard rains and freezing winters, swelling and warping the wood. Biting your lip, you started bashing it with the heel of your hand, the wood protesting and squeaking with each blow, until it suddenly flew open.

Glancing over your shoulder to the latched door as the dented handle started to rattle, you wasted no time, jumping and diving halfway through the window, legs flailing and kicking the dingy wall. Scrambling to get a footing and wiggle the rest of the way through the window, the rough wood scraping and cutting up your sides and ripping holes into your jacket. The bathroom door started to shake, a shoulder driving into it, you knew it wouldn't be long before Ashe busted through and hauled you out of the bathroom. Growling in frustration, you kicked hard at the wall, breaking through the crumbling drywall and used it to boost yourself up more. Punching more and more holes into the wall with your feet to you wiggle and shimmy through the window.

You gasped as your hips passed through the window frame and scrambled to get a footing on the other side, before you fell face first into a pile of two week old trash. You had just managed to flip yourself as you fell out of the window, landing on your butt on top of the overstuffed black plastic bags with a grunt. The eruption of Ashe charging through the bathroom door exploded above you, followed by his flurry of curses as his head popped through the window, the only thing small enough to fit through it.

“You fucking bitch!” He roared, pushing an arm through the window with his head to try and grab at you.

You struggled to your feet and stumbled away from Ashe and the window, out of breath and bleeding. Knowing he wasn't going to get through the window, Ashe jerked back inside and stormed out of the bathroom, shoving and knocking people aside as they came to see what all the commotion was about. Not waiting around for Ashe to reach you, you bolted down the alleyway, slipping on the slimy pavement and tripping over trash, just making it to the end, when two shadows blocked the way. Startled, you tried twisting around to run the other way, but they were faster than you were, grabbing the hood of your jacket and yanked you back, making you choke in the process.

“You ain't going anywhere.” One of them huffed as you were slammed chest first into the wall, scraping the side of your face on the rough surface.

Your arms were harshly yanked behind you and hands slipped through the loops of thick black cuffs, before your captor pressed a button on the handle connecting the cuffs and they automatically tightened around your wrists, painfully cutting off circulation and into your skin. They jerked you off the wall and faced you out of the alleyway, one of them clamped a hand down on your shoulder, making you whimper in pain and try to shrink away from him, only to be struck in the side.

“You should have stayed in London.” Ashe's angry voice growled as he approached the three of you, pinching your chin between his fingers. “Or just not have been born at all.” He hissed, letting go of your head with a jerk. “Get her in the van.” He ordered the two men, hitching a thumb over his shoulder, to the van parked at the curb, its back sliding door open and waiting.

You looked up and down the sidewalk as they pushed and shoved you towards the van, frantically hoping someone would see the four of you and rush to help you, stop them for kidnapping you. But, as you looked at the full street, you noticed everyone looking everywhere but at you, not wanting to get involved, knowing doing so would land them in the same hot water you were finding yourself in. But, to your utter shock, one face did look back at you, just as stunned to see you as you were to see them.

“Michail.” You mouthed, blinking like it was just a fragment of your frantic mind. “Mikey!” You screamed out, realizing it wasn't your mind toying with you, before you were thrown into the van and the door was slammed shut behind you.

“Let's go grab a pint.” Knox said, throwing on his jacket. “Come on, Keagan, one pint won't kill you. We have a load of time before your first big run.”

Michail sighed and rubbed at his face, his back ached from hunching over the map of his first run as an Adjutant Runner for Quinn. He had been staring at it non-stop for two weeks and the run was due to happen in three days. But, Knox was right, an hour's break to enjoy a frothy pint at the pub would do him and his brain some good. So, stiffly raising from his chair, he grabbed his own jacket and followed Knox to the lift and down the four floors to the ground floor and out onto the street. They chatted about the run as they walked down to the Black Bone, Knox's usual establishment for a good pint, hammering out more details and clearing up any misunderstanding about what was to go down, once it did happen.

But, they were interrupted by a small scuffle ahead of them, near the pub.

Looking away from each other and to the altercation, they saw three sizable men roughly handling a woman, her hands tied behind her back. Michail felt the breath in his lungs freeze and his heart drop out into his stomach as he met the woman's eye, watching her mouth his name, before yelling it out.

“Mikey!”

“Issy?” He whispered back, too stunned to manage anything louder before you were manhandled into the van.

“You know that woman, Mike?” Knox asked, his eyes panning between the speeding away van and him.

“She's my sister.” Mikey replied, his mouth hanging open, shocked and speechless to not only find you in Bristol, but being carted away by those ruffians. “But, she should be back in London.” He blinked, slowly regaining himself. “What the hell is she doing here in Bristol? Do you know who those guys were?” He asked, looking at Knox.

“Only one of them.” Knox replied, narrowing his eyes. “The blond is Ashe James, he works as a free agent, working several different jobs in every Sector.”

“Why would he take my sister like that?” Mikey asked himself, deeply troubled.

“We'll find out later, let's get that pint.” Knox answered, clasping Mikey on the back and pushed him towards the pub.

Henry spit nothing, but blood, as Emilio gave him another crack punch to the face; which was multicolored and inflamed. A cut high on the bridge of his bloody nose and upper lip, his bottom lip was split and bleeding as well, blood caked in his beard and curls, as well as his chest; soaking into the fabric of his jeans. His eyes burned from the unyielding and bright lights illuminating the room. He was spent and exhausted, leaning forward with his head lulling and eyes half rolled and swollen shut. A forest of marks and box cutter cuts littered his body, partiality around the surgical site of his artificial kidney. He was more than sure every one of his ribs were broken or cracked, making him wheeze and hiss with every breath he took.

Henry wasn't sure how much more of he could take, but that didn't mean he would break.

“I don't think you have much more blood in you, mate?” Emilio huffed, shaking his throbbing hand, his fingers puffy and bruised from hitting Henry so many times. “Usually, the people I—set straight—have given up by now. But, no. Not you, you're tough. I respect that.” He said, shrugging his sore shoulders.

“To a point.” He chuckled, slapping Henry in the back of the head, making him whimper. “Why don't you tell my boss where the girl is? Then, we can let you off. But, if you don't, you'll just end up dying here.”

Henry remained quiet, he had run out of witty and smart-ass comments hours before. So, he kept his mouth shut and reserved his energy and strength to withstand their assault on him. The one saving light was the thought of you safe and sound in your room. He knew, by now, you were freaking out and panicking. There were no clocks and only one mirror that Henry knew, without a doubt, was a two way, but he could catch a glimpse of Emilio's expensive watch. He had been in the room for nearly twelve hours, all night and most of the morning.

He sighed, grimacing as he swallowed another mouthful of blood that was pooling in his mouth from his bloody nose, cut lip and the cuts on the inside of his cheeks; his stomach cramped and twisted as he swallowed it down, adding to his discomfort. His mind started to wonder, his pain was beginning to numb his battered nerve-endings, he wondered how much longer he would survive, what blow would potentially kill him.

He counted each blow.

One.

Two.

Three.

The door came flying open and Benji waltzed in, the door slamming closed behind him, as he grinned and looked chipper after getting a good night's rest, having left not long after Henry's torture started. But, he seemed overly happy, too happy, for Henry to be comfortable with, he knew something. That's when Henry's fear finally spiked and his abused body tensed and his bloodshot, blue orbs widened with panic, showing that growing ounce of fear outwardly for the first time.

“Well, Mr. Cavill, I see that you are still alive!” Benji quipped with an amused smile, grabbing the back of Henry's sweaty and bloody curls, and jerked his head back, roughly. “I am quite impressed by your stamina. I bet the ladies love it.” He teased, lowering himself to meet Henry's gaze.

“I have a surprise for you, Henry.” He cooed, menacingly, his brown eyes darkening to a black hole of evil and danger. “I'm quite sure you'll be relieved to see it.” He said softly, running a finger over the freshly bleeding cut on Henry's brow, making him hiss as heavy beads of sweat mixed into it, then straightened up.

“Bring it in!” He yelled, moving away from Henry and turned towards the two way mirror.

The door swung open again, revealing Ashe, who pressed his back against it, to keep it open, and motion into the hall for someone to come forward. Henry's shoulders fell with his face, the last bit of his strength he had draining out of him as you were shoved into the room, stumbling and almost falling if Ashe hadn't grabbed the handle of your zip cuffs and steadied you.

Your mouth dropped open seeing the pitiful and terrifying condition Henry was in, covered in blood, bruises, cuts and god knows what else. You struggled to swallow down your throbbing heart and blinked back the searing tears that burned your eyes, biting hard into your lip to keep yourself from falling apart. Henry licked his split and chapped lips and blinked slowly at you, trying to keep himself together, but not to cry, but to not lose his temper, his muscles flexing as his anger flared and surged beneath his blue and purple, blood covered skin, straining in his restraints, like a bull seeing red.

“Two very different reactions.” Benji commented, watching the pair of you through the two-way mirror. “Interesting.” He hummed, turning on the heels of his expensive dress shoes. “I've been looking for you.” He said, stepping closer to you. “Thank you for making it so easy to find and get a hold of you.”

He smiled, touching the tip of his finger to your cheek and drew a smiley face on it.

In Henry's blood.

“Release her hands.” He ordered, snapping his fingers.

“Boss, is that a good idea?” Ashe asked, hesitating with the key to your cuffs. “She's pretty cunning.”

Benji's cool broke and slapped Ashe across the face, ripping the key out of his hand and releasing the cuffs from around your wrists. “I know what she is, you moron. But, what is she going to do? They're in my house, surrounded by dozens upon dozens of my men. Even if, they managed to get out of this room, they wouldn't make it out of the hall, before we either killed or incapacitated them. So,” He smirked at you, giving you a sour taste in your mouth.

“Let's leave them be.” He chuckled, making a motion with his hand and cleared the room, other than you and Henry.

You stood frozen for several moments, unable to move as you and Henry stared at each other, your silent tears finally escaping down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, Henry.” You sniffled, gulping thickly.

Henry closed his eyes and sighed, groaning and gently shaking his head. He knew, he knew you had left the room to come look for him, the guilt and evidence of it was all over your face. “It's all right.” He finally replied, his voice dry and raspy. “I know you were scared.”

“I was worried.” You whimpered, slowly approaching him. “I still am.” You told him, dropping to your knees before him, looking over his battered body. “I'm sorry, Henry. I never meant for this to happen. I never wanted anyone to get hurt because of me. Least of all, you.”

Your emotions started to overwhelm you, reaching out to gently cup his face in your shaking palms and pushed up on your toes to touch your forehead to his temple. Henry frowned and nudged your face with his, trying to give you what comfort he could, while still tied to the chair. Your wet cheek smeared more blood on the both of you, as you wrapped your arms loosely around his bare waist.

“I told you to wait for me.” He whispered, meeting your damp eyes.

“I tried.” You protested, pulling back from him. “But, I-” You bit your lip and looked away from him.

“I told you, I'd come back for you.”

“How?” You snapped, incredulous. “You're tied to a fucking chair and practically bleeding to death!”

Henry narrowed his eyes at you. “I'll be fine, I just needed more time. I've done this before.” He told you, shaking his head, then regretting it.

“That doesn't make me feel any better or convince me, Henry.” You replied with a huff. “How are we going to get out of here?” You asked, lowering your voice, sure they were eavesdropping.

“I'll think of something.” Henry answered, looking around the room, but there was very little to aid you in that endeavor. “Just stay strong for me.” He added, turning his face into yours, his chapped lips brushing your ear.

“Nugget.”

Benji stood in the room adjoined to the interrogation room you and Henry were held in, watching the two of you interact and talk, when a phone started to ring. Flexing his hands, Benji turned on his men, glaring each of them in the eyes until one of them shied away from his gaze.

“Answer it, Luis.” He hissed at the smaller man. “Now!” He roared, making everyone flinch.

Luis slipped a shaking hand into his pocket and pulled out his mobile, flipping it open and answering it. “Hello?” He squeaked, his voice high pitched with fright. “Um,--” He shuttered, eyes glued to Benji. “It's Monroe, Sir. He's asking about the girl, why she was nabbed this morning.” He explained, holding his phone out to Benji.

“Knox!” Benji roared into the receiver. “Why are you asking about the girl?” He demanded.

“My new Runner, they know each other.” Knox replied, cool as ice, he was used to Benji's outbursts. “We saw Ashe and the boys dragging her out of the Black Bone, she saw us too, and called out Keagan's name. When I asked how she knew him, he answered that she was his sister.”

“Her brother?” Benji said slowly, turning back to the mirror and staring at you as you huddled close to Henry. “Bring him to me, I want you here within the hour.”

“You got it, boss.” Knox replied, hanging up.

“The bubble of intrigue just keeps growing around this girl.” He said, studying you. “I love it.”

“I just got a call from headquarters.” Knox said as he approached Mikey at their table. “We need to go in, they're having a Runner meeting we need to attend to get the new details on our run in a couple days.” He explained.

“All right.” Mikey nodded, wiping the foam off his upper lip as he finished off his pint. “Are we going straight there?” He asked, standing up.

“Yep.” Knox nodded, clapping him on the back and directing him to the door, waving to the bartender as they left.

They hailed a cab to the Hernandez building, it was the tallest building in all of Bristol, showing the power, presence and money they had, running their empire of drugs and violence. The twenty minute ride there was quiet, and Knox almost felt bad for Mikey, knowing the kid had zero clue what was about to happen to him, but he wasn't sorry for the fact he was related to you, who could possibly bring down the business that kept him employed and out of the Slums.

“Mr. Hernandez is expecting us.” Knox told the receptionist at the front desk.

Nodding her head, the receptionist picked up her phone, dialed a number and waited for it to pick up. “Mr. Monroe to see you, sir.” She said, then hung up. “He'll meet you at lift number three.” She told Knox, then returned to her paperwork.

“Come on, Keagan.” Knox called, motioning Mikey to follow him.

Mikey followed him, unaware and naive to what was about to happen to him, to what was waiting for him, as the lift doors slid open and revealed Benji and Ashe. It was seeing Benji and Ashe that Mikey got a strange feeling in his stomach, but he ignored it, figuring it was just nervous jitters from meeting the most powerful man in Bristol.

“Knox.” Benji smiled at his prized Runner, then settled his cold eyes on Mikey. “Mr. Keagan, how nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much.”

“All good, I hope.” Mikey gulped.

“Of course.” Benji chuckled, motioning for the two men to step into the lift with them. “Let's go to my office to speak.” He suggested.

The ride in the lift was silent and stiff, no one speaking or moving, not even making eye contact for the several minutes the ride took, until the ding announced their arrival to the floor and the sleek metal doors slid open. Benji stepped off first, followed by Knox and Mikey, with Ashe bringing up the rear. They walked down a long hallway and Benji stopped beside a door, scanned a key card and pushed it open, motioning for Mikey to go in first, wanting to see his reaction as he entered.

Biting his lip, Mikey did as he was told, a nervous sweat breaking out on his brow as he moved into the dark room, noticing the wall length window to one side. He stopped in front of it, looking through the two way mirror and felt his jaw and heart hit the floor.

“Issy.” He gasped, seeing you pacing the bright room, then noticed the large and beaten male tied to the chair in the room as well.

His shoulders slumped as it all clicked in his head, he had been lied to too and was now as much a prisoner as you and Henry were. A cold sweat broke out all over his body and his hands started to shake, gulping several times to try and keep his composure.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked, eyes snapping to Benji as he watched Ashe lock and block the door, leaving Knox in the hallway.

“Who is that girl to you?” Benji asked, lightly tapping the glass of the mirror. “And answer truthfully.”

Mikey steeled himself. “I don't know.” He huffed, puffing out his chest.

Benji rolled his jaw and banged on the mirror, grabbing Emilio's attention. Smirking, Emilio pushed himself off the door he had been leaning against and strode over to you, startling you and making you stubble away from him.

“NO!” Henry and Mikey both screamed at the same time as Emilio grabbed you roughly by the hair, yanking your head backward and making you cry out as he shoved you closer to the mirror.

“Who is she to you?” Benji asked again, slowly.

“A friend.” Mikey whimpered, clenching his fists together as he felt and saw your pain.

Benji knocked on the window again. This time, Emilio twisted you around by the hair and slammed your back up against the mirror and wrapped his meaty hand around your slender neck. Henry jerked and squirmed in his chair, roaring with madness and cursing loudly as Emilio choked you, trying desperately to break free and pull him off of you, before it was too late.

“Stop!” Henry roared, letting his anger and frustration out in a violent scream. “Let her go! Do it to me!” He begged Emilio. “Let her be!”

Mikey doubled over, his hands braced on his thighs as he gasped for air, like a goldfish out of it's tank. “Please, stop this.” He begged Benji, in a wheeze.

Benji tilted his head as he watched Mikey, watching his distress as it mirrored your own. Curiously, he banged on the mirror again and Emilio, still choking you with one hand, drove the fist of his other into your stomach, making you yelp around his hand, incapable of more as you struggled for air. Mikey stumbled back into a shelf behind him, nearly losing his footing. Benji's fingers caught the underside of Mikey's chin and jerked his head back, thick strings of drool on his lips and chin.

“Tell me who she is to you?” He hissed in his face.

“Please.” Mikey begged him, weakly.

“Tell me, and I'll make him stop.” Benji told him, his face twisted with smug malice.

Mikey whimpered, hearing you struggling and Henry's desperate protests. “She's my sister.” He broke. “My twin sister.” He admitted, weakly.

“Your twin?” Benji echoed, intrigued. “So, you feel what she feels. Does she feel what you do, I wonder.” He let go of Mikey and knocked on the mirror twice, signaling Emilio to release you, which he did, causing you to collapse to the floor. “Ashe, go in there and tell me if she feels anything from him.” He ordered, keeping his eyes on Mikey.

Nodding, Ashe left the room and entered yours and Henry's, nodding at the mirror, so Benji knew he was in position. Smiling, Benji promptly drove his knee into Mikey's stomach and looked behind him and saw Ashe smirking and chuckling to himself.

“The connection between twins.” Benji laughed, amused to all ends. “I love it. Let's have a proper little family reunion, shall we!” He declared and motioned to Luis to grab Mikey. “Bring him.” He ordered, marching out of the room. “Good news everybody!” He declared, bursting into the room with you and Henry.

“It's family time!” He laughed, as Luis shoved Mikey into the room with the two of you.

“Mikey.” You coughed and rasped, holding your bruised neck.

“Issy.” He rasped back, crawling over to you. “Where have you been?” He asked, cupping your face in his shaking hands. “We thought you were dead.”

“I went looking for you, to try and patch things up with our parents, after the fight.” You explained, fresh tears dripping down your face. “But, I was caught by the Traffickers and was held by them. Henry,” You looked up at him, still straining in the chair, his blue eyes wild. “he saved me and I've been with him the whole time.”

Mikey blinked up at Henry, then narrowed his eyes at him. “Saved you?” He echoed your words, but not your sentiments and appreciation. “The only reason a person goes into a Trafficker's warehouse, if they're not merchandise, is to buy.” He hissed, his face darkening. “You bought my sister from a fucking Trafficker. Typical Upper, buying and enslaving us just because we were born in a lower Sector than you.”

“Mikey, it wasn't like that?” You panted, shaking your head at him, desperate for him to understand.

“How can you fucking defend him!” Mikey barked, gritting his teeth at you. “Unless he's already brainwashed you, convinced you that owning you didn't make you any different than him.”

“I don't own her.” Henry growled, low in his throat.

“Is that so!”

“It is!” You barked back, regaining yourself. “He never registered me for an Ownership Bracelet. Henry's never treated me like a Slave, or even a Slummer, for that matter. He's been good to me, Mikey.” You told him, cupping his tense neck in your hands and pressed your forehead to his. “He's been helping me to find you.” You whispered to him, holding his eyes.

“He's been protecting me.” You said quieter.

“I was originally meant to follow her until you were found, then bring you both back to London.” Henry added, his eyes on you. “So, she could testify against him.” He jerked his chin at Benji. “and to turn you in for your part in the Running business. But,” He paused and sighed. “But, I changed my mind and decided to just help her bring you back home, safely. Make up some story about why I didn't bring you in, then once she testified, I was going to release her to go back home to your family.” He explained.

Mikey opened his mouth to ask why a High Marshal would bother to do something like that, when he finally felt it, a warmth that came from you, and met your eyes and saw the cause of your warmth, towards Henry. You were in love with the High Marshal, and looking to Henry, he could tell that Henry felt just as strongly about you.

“I've been a complete brainless prick.” Mikey sighed, feeling guilty, if he hadn't decided to become a Runner, then none of this would have happened, the two of you and Henry would still be safe and sound in London, going about your lives as should be.

“I'm sorry, Issy.”

“Well, you're just a stupid boy, what do you know anyway.” You huffed, smiling softly and shrugging it off.

“Well, isn't this all well and sweet.” Benji huffed pushing off the wall.

“But, we all have an issue. The three of you are a threat to my business.” He said, folding his arms. “You, High Marshal, are on the case that threatens my business. You,” He looked at Mikey. “Being a Runner, know the routes and procedures of my business, and you,” He settled his eyes on you. “Are the witness to my operations and hold the key to ruining my business in London and putting away one of my best Traffickers.”

“I can't let you live.” He said, looking at the three of you. “So, we're going to play a fun little game.” He smirked, greedy and giddy, as he rubbed his hands together. “Luis, your gun.” He ordered, holding his hand out to the other man. “Ashe draw yours as well, and Emilio, why don't you untie Mr. Cavill over there, we do out number them with people and firearms, so I doubt either of them will be stupid enough to try something.” He said, motioning Emilio towards Henry.

Obeying, Emilio removed the key to Henry's bonds from his front pocket, while Ashe had his gun trained on him, anticipating any attempt Henry, you or Mikey might make to try and be a savior. Emilio unlocked the ties around Henry's chaffed ankles, then his wrists. Henry let out a relieved sigh as the strain and tension of his shoulders and arms released, almost slumping out of the chair.

“Henry!” You gasped, dashing forward to try and catch him.

“Ah, no!” Benji barked, stopping you in your tracks. “Leave him be.” He hissed at you. “Get up, Cavill.” He demanded of Henry. “Now, or I'll start putting holes in her!”

Groaning, Henry forced himself to stand, swaying on his throbbing and injured legs and almost falling, but caught himself on the back of the chair. Assured that Henry would be able to reasonably stand, then took the gun Luis was still holding out to him, Benji removed the clip from the firearm, checking how many rounds it had, reloaded the clip and cocked the slide, securing a bullet into the chamber.

“Take it.” He snapped, holding it out to you.

“No.” You whimpered, shaking your head and taking a step away from him.

“You either take it, or I kill all three of you now, starting with the High Marshal, then your dear brother and you last, so you can watch as your brother and the man you love, die.” He threatened, with an eerie calm.

Taking a shuddering breath, you stepped forward again and, with a shaky hand, took the heavy weapon from Benji's hand. You looked at Henry and Mikey with wide and frightened eyes, visibly shaking with terror. They both looked back at you with the same fright and worry.

“So, this is our game.” Benji grinned, licking his lips, like an evil serpent. “You get to choose who dies first, and get the honor of killing them.” He told you, grinning sinisterly.

“No.” You whimpered, slowly shaking your head. “No, I can't. Please, I can't.” You begged him, trembling, and staring down at the gun, like you expected it to swallow you.

“None of you are going to leave this room alive. So, you might as well put each other out of your own misery.” Benji tried to reason with you. “Do you want them to suffer because of your selfishness?”

“Don't listen to him.” Henry snapped, drawing your attention. “You don't need to do this, just give me the gun.” He told you, reaching out a hand to you.

“He's right, Issy. You don't.” Mikey agreed, holding his own hand out. “Just give it to one of us, we'll figure this out.”

Both Henry and Mikey knew why Benji had given you the gun. You would never have considered hurting anyone, with or without the firearm; unlike Henry and Mikey, who would.

Your eyes darted back and forth between them, unsure who to give it to. What would Henry do, if you were to give him the gun? Would he manage to kill Benji, Ashe, Luis and Emilio before they could do any real damage to the three of you? What about Mikey? Did your brother even know how to use a gun? What would he do once he had it? Should you even give it to them? What if one of them turned on the other, what if Henry turned on Mikey? He had originally been sent after you to bring you back to testify and take care of Mikey, because of his involvement with Benji and Bristol. Would Mikey try to kill Henry, because he was a High Marshal, maybe try to save face and show Benji he could be trusted, to save himself, and maybe you too.

You knew neither of them would turn on you or harm you in any way. You weren't afraid of them; you were afraid for them, and what they might do if they had the gun themselves.

It took all you had not to throw up, then and there. Everyone was staring at you waiting for your decision, but you couldn't decide, you wouldn't decide. You loved Henry and you loved your brother, you would rather kill yourself than one of them; and it was as if they sensed your mind go in that direction, for both Henry and Mikey jerked towards you, startling you.

“No!” Henry hissed, his eyes wide with panic. “Don't you dare.” He panted heavily, spots in his eyes as his advanced blood loss started to take its toll on him, on top of everything else going on. “Don't you dare turn that gun on yourself.” He whispered, half begging and half ordering you.

“Listen to him, Issy.” Mikey agreed, nodding his head. “Don't harm yourself. We can figure this out.” He said, eyeballing Benji over your shoulder.

Tears dripped down your face, like a waterfall after a heavy rain, it was too much, it was all too overwhelming for you to take. Mikey looked between you and Henry, he saw the absolute terror and worry in Henry's eyes, his pupils eating away the cobalt blue and speck of brown of his irises. Your own blown out pupils doing the same as you started back at him. It was something that Mikey wasn't used to. When things became scary and too much, it had always been him that you looked to in those moments, but this time, it was Henry you were seeking comfort and protection from.

“You fucking prick!” Mikey growled, trying to lung at Benji.

“Ah ah!” Benji barked back, grabbing Luis's wrist and forcing him to point his gun at you. “If either of you try and act a hero, Luis will kill her, out right.” He warned, meeting Mikey and Henry's eyes.

Biting his lip, Mikey took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh, Benji had the three of you cornered. He was forcing you to kill one of the men you loved with your own life, while stopping Henry and Mikey from trying to save the day, by threatening to kill you, knowing they both would die to keep you safe.

What a twisted and poisonous web that was being weaved in the room. But, sooner or later, the strings of that web would start to snap and unravel, taking all of you with it.

Mikey took a hesitating step forward, his heart pounding and choked inside of his throat, his eyes daring between you, Benji and Luis. Reaching out, he wrapped his hand around your wrist, feeling the weight of the gun you held in that hand. The pounding pulse in your wrist drummed against Mikey's fingers, and he felt his own heart become attuned with yours. From the day the two of you came into the world, you several minutes before him, the pair of you were in sync, but as you grew older, you became less so. You had taken the right path, following the law, doing the job assigned to you, making the best of the life you had been dealt, without a complaint. While Mikey rebelled and became restless, wanting to be more, wanting the people he loved to be and have more than you already did, failing to see the wealth he already had, in you, your parents and little brother.

It was too late now to go back and fix those things, to see and cherish them properly, like Mikey now realized he should have.

The two of you synced together, heart beats the same steady, but pounding rate, breathing heavy and as one, flowing in a way that only twins could. You read his face, like it was the page of an open book and knew what he was doing. Your hand grasped the grip of the gun tighter, eyes widening and head softly shaking.

It's all right, Issy. His face and eyes said to you.

No. Your eyes begged back, blinded by collecting tears. Not like this. Don't do this. I can't live without you, Mikey.

You'll be fine, Sis.

He looked away from you, to Henry, who stood there, supporting himself on the back of the chair he had spent hours being tortured in. Henry looked back at Mikey, confused, just like everyone else in the room to what was transpiring between you, narrowing his eyes and frowning, shaking his head at Mikey, wanting to understand. But, Mikey looked back to you, squeezing your wrist and pressing his free hand to your chest.

You have the High Marshal to care for and protect you now. His eyes said to you. And he'll do a better job at it. He can give you the love, life and protection you need and deserve in life.

You shook your head at him, eyes screaming at him. Don't do this! What about our parents? Our little brother? What will I tell them? They will be crushed.

I'm no good and we both know this. Let me do this, and prove I still have some good left in me.

His hand slowly slipped down yours, gently prying your fingers from around the gun's grip, carefully taking it from you. Your hands shot out, gripping Mikey by the sleeves, one last plea for him to reconsider, to help you and Henry find a different plan and outcome, to give it a chance. But, he shook his head and took your arm in his free hand, leaned in to kiss your cheek, then gently shoved you in Henry's direction. Henry just managed to catch you before you stumbled over your feet, and himself from falling as well, blinking between you and Mikey, starting to realize what was going on.

“Mikey, n--” You started to scream as he raised the muzzle to his temple.

Henry's thick arms wrapped around you, somehow mustering the strength to hold you back as you struggled and thrashed in his embrace, trying desperately to stop what was about to happen.

A loud pop and a high pitched ringing filled your ears, muting out all other sounds that were being made, the sounds of your scream that you only knew was happening by how sore it made your throat, the warm spray of droplets against your face and neck, the world ending sight of your brother crumbling to the ground, the gun falling from his limp hand and slid across the blood covered floor, spinning under the chair at Henry's foot.

But, the chaos didn't stop there.

As Mikey hit the floor, Ashe came to life, using the distraction of Mikey's decision, to pull the gun out of his back waistband, smoothly flipping off the safety with his thumb, cocked and pointed it at Luis. All of it was in slow-motion, ears still screaming, as another pop filled the room, this time taking out Luis. Henry's body tensed up against yours as he watched Luis instinctively pull the trigger of his own weapon, the bullet whizzing towards you both. Henry wrapped his arms completely around you and threw you both down onto the floor; caging you in with his heavy and bloody body, using himself as a human shield as more muffled shots rang out.

You felt Henry's body jerk once against yours and the hot breath of him groaning against your neck, then a searing pain in your thigh, before the room went quiet and dark.

You started to come back around to the sound of Henry yelling your name, above the ringing that was still filling your ears and mind. You shook your throbbing head, feeling him pat your cheeks, trying to get you to open your eyes and respond to him.

“Can you hear me?” Henry asked, blinking down at you.

You blinked back up at him, only catching every other word he said. “A little bit.” You wheezed back, your thigh felt like an overfilled, hot water bottle as it throbbed.

“Good.” He nodded, then looked down the length of your body, just then noticing the slow puddle of blood pooling around your leg and cursed. “You've been hit.” He huffed, wrestling with his body's want to panic, but kept calm.

Spotting the tattered remains of his shirt, that Emilio had cut off, Henry grabbed it. “This is going to hurt, but, I need to control the bleeding before you lose too much.” He explained, carefully bringing your leg up, then wrapping the strip of his shirt around your thigh, just above the bullet wound, and tied it off as tightly as he could without causing any more complications.

You winced and whined as he did, gripping his bicep and digging your nails into his skin. “What happened?” You asked, out of breath, you couldn't see most of the room, Henry's body blocking your view, mostly on purpose.

“It seems, we have a friend.” Henry replied looking over his shoulder to Ashe. “We're going to get out of here.” He told you, fussing over your wound as a thin and steady stream of blood continued to flow from it, tightening his shirt more.

“We can't leave without--” You paused, remembering. “Oh god, Henry!” You gasped, it all rushed back to you.

“I know.” He frowned at you, crushed.

“We have to take him with us.”

“We can't.” Henry whispered, licking his cracked lips. “It'll slow us down.” He told you as carefully as he could. “I'll get him back for you. When we get back to London, I promise you.” He said, helping you sit up.

“Henry--” You sobbed, throwing your arms around his neck and buried your face into his sweaty and sticky chest.

“I know, love. I am so so sorry.” He whimpered in your ear, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed.

“We need to go.” Ashe's rushed voice came from the door. “Now, before the alarms go off.” He said, looking back into the hall.

He felt for you, he really did, never expecting all of this to happen, but now that it had, the three of you needed to put as many kilometers and as much time between you and Bristol as you could, because Benji's men would be coming after you in no time.

“Come on.” Henry grunted, pulling himself up to his feet and taking you with him, wrapping your arm around his neck, to support you out of the room.

Your breath caught in your throat as Henry helped you stand up, seeing Mikey's body laying there in a large pool of blood, but also Luis, Emilio and Benji's bodies as well. In the chaos of Mikey taking his own life to save you and Henry, Ashe had sprung, pulling his weapon and dispatching them in the confusion. Luis and Emilio let off several rounds from their own guns, one of them nicking Henry in the side and another going through your thigh.

“Is he on our side?” You wheezed, as you and Henry followed him down the hall.

“Yeah.” Henry nodded, shifting you against his side as you started to slip. “He's a Alpha Marshal, from London.” He explained to your questioning brow lift

“How did you not know that?” You asked him, frowning, you figured since Henry was a High Marshal, he would know all of the other Marshals.

“He finished Marshal training four years before I went in, and was recruited straight out of it to go undercover and infiltrate Bristol and climb the ladder as far as he could. Seems he got as high as being Benji Hernandez's personal enforcer.” He explained, stopping as Ashe secured the hallway around the corner.

“Which is damn lucky for the two of you.” Ashe commented, coming back. “The way is clear, there's a back service lift that goes down to the garage. I have a car there we can use to get the fuck out of Bristol.”

“Let's go.” Henry nodded, antsy.

You looked back down the hall, to the still open door to the room that held all that carnage, and shuttered. Henry looked at you, feeling the shiver and frowned, reaching up to brush your hair out of your sweaty and bloody face. He couldn't understand the level of pain and anguish you must be in, after watching your brother commit suicide to save you. But, he knew that Mikey would want him to protect you and get you the hell out of there, with or without his body, and that's what Henry planned on doing.

“You can do this.” He whispered to you, blood crusted fingertips brushing your cheek. “He would want you too.” He added even softer.

“I know.” You gulped down tears, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “Let's go, before I lose my nerve.” You said, looking away from the door.

Nodding his head, you and Henry supported each other down the hall to the lift, leaning against the wall as it went down to the dark underground garage. Finding Ashe's car, he unlocked it and helped you and Henry get inside, before rushing around to the driver's side, tearing out of the garage and onto the street.

“Here.” You sighed and removed your torn and filthy jacket, revealing Henry's shirt beneath it, and took it off, seeing Henry's shiver.

“Thanks.” Henry whimpered, carefully pulling the shirt on his sore and battered torso. “How are we getting out of here, Ashe?”

“There's a gate out of this Sector that most of Benji's top men use for dealing with business outside of Bristol. I know the guard that works it, he'll let us through and keep his mouth shut.” Ashe explained, keeping his eyes on the road. “From there, I'll drop you both off at the drop location I use for sending my information into London.”

“What Sector is that in?” Henry asked, checking your makeshift tourniquet.

“Three.” Ashe replied, slowing his car down as they approached the gate he spoke about. “Let me do the talking.” He said over his shoulder, rolling his window down as a stocky male with a semi-automatic weapon approached the driver's side.

“James, it's been awhile. How have you been?” He asked, staring through the open driver's window.

“Been all right.” Ashe replied casually, as if nothing was amiss, like the two bleeding people in his backseat. “I need to run an errand outside the city, if you don't mind opening the gate and letting me through.”

“Sure thing.” the guard replied, chipper and oblivious to you and Henry, unable to see through the black tinted windows.

Stepping away from Ashe's car, the guard moved into a small booth beside the gate, turning a key and held down a large red button. The large and scuffed up gate groaned to life, screeching and protesting as it slid out of the way, revealing barren land and an uneven road on the other side. Waving back as the guard waved Ashe through the gate, he drove through, letting out a relieved breath as the gate closed behind you, everything so far going smooth.

“It's a two and half hour drive to your drop off location.” Ashe said, breaking the silence.

“That's fine.” Henry replied. “It took us nearly a week to walk here.” He added with a huff, that felt like a year ago at this point.

“What about you?” You asked Ashe. “What will you do now? Will you not come into London with us?” You inquired, interested, since his life and the long years he spent undercover in Bristol was now blown apart because of you, Henry and Mikey.

“I'm not originally from London.” Ashe replied, stiffly. “I'm from Chester. My father was killed in an accident and my mother couldn't take care of me. So, she had a smuggler bring me to London where I have a wealthy aunt. She took me in, adopted me and raised me as her own son, enabling me to have a better life. With her connections, I was able to attend the Marshal Council Academy, graduated top of my class and was recruited directly out of training to go undercover and infiltrate Bristol and the Hernandez family. I've been there ever since, running and doing whatever job Benji and his family tell me too, while sending the information back to London and half of the money I make back to my mum in Chester.”

“I've wanted to return to Chester for a long time, I haven't seen my mother, in person, since I was eight. So, I plan to go back there, after I drop the two of you off.”

“Won't they go looking for you there?” You asked, concerned for him, you had dragged so many people into this mess.

“No, as far as they know, all my family is dead.” He answered, glancing at you in the rear-view mirror. “My backstory was I was orphaned as a baby and raised on the streets of London, where I got in with Runners and came to Bristol to be more big time. So, I don't know who my parents are, let alone, know if I have any other family or where.”

“And they believed that?”

“For more than a decade.” Ashe chuckled, smiling at you.

The rest of the drive was quiet, you and Henry huddled together in the backseat, Henry's heavy head resting on your shoulder. His eyes were closed, but he didn't find any sleep, still too worked up to find it with the state you both were in. You rested your cheek on the top of his head and closed your own eyes, your head still throbbed and your leg was on fire, but had stopped bleeding so much. Both of you were worn, spent and weak, desperately needing proper medical attention and rest after everything that had happened.

“Henry?” You whispered softly into his messy curls.

“Hm?” He hummed back.

“What are we going to say, when we get back to London?” You asked him, biting your lip.

Henry sighed, picking up his head as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed his lips to your temple. That had been brewing in his mind for the last hour, trying to figure out how to explain all your injuries and absence to everyone that asked. The only person that truly knew the nature of your and Henry's disappearance was Reyes, and he didn't know what Reyes would do when the pair of you showed back up in London in the sorry state you were in, and without Mikey.

“We'll cross that road, when we get there, love.” He finally replied, kissing your temple again.

You crossed that road an hour and a half later, when Ashe pulled up to a door that had been built into the wall of Sector Three. He helped you and Henry out of the car and approached the door with you, pointing out an intercom box beside the door.

“The code is 8391, it'll ring whoever is working the door today, they'll come down and ask for credentials, tell them you're a High Marshal and you'll get all the assistance you need.” He explained to you, heading back towards his car.

“Ashe!” Henry called after him, before he could get into the car and leave. “Thank you.” He said, when Ashe turned back.

“We're Marshals, we're trained to look out for each other.” Ashe replied, nodding his head to you both and got into his car.

Henry waited until Ashe's car disappeared from sight, before limping up to the door and pressed in the code Ashe had given you. A buzzer went off and five minutes later, the door opened, revealing a Beta Marshal, who frowned between you and Henry.

“High Marshal Henry Cavill.” Henry told him, as the Beta Marshal started to open his mouth. “We require aid and you need to get a call into Supreme Commander, Dylan Reyes.” He said, grabbing your hand and pushing through the door.

“Now, Beta Marshal, before we finish bleeding to death.” Henry hissed at him, annoyed and impatient.

“Of course, sir.” the Beta Marshal squeaked, saluting Henry and showing you both to his service car. “Supreme Commander Reyes, this is Beta Marshal Grant, down at the Security Door. I have a High Marshal here, wishing to speak with you.” the Beta Marshal explained, as his call to Dylan connected over the car's speakers.

“Who would that be, Grant?” Dylan's voice asked back.

“It's me, Dylan.” Henry huffed, slumping in the seat.

“Henry!” Reyes's voice snapped in surprise. “You're alive!”

“For the time being.” Henry sighed, rubbing at his face.

“Do you have the girl and her brother?” He asked, sounding desperate and frantic.

“I have her, but not her brother.” Henry explained, glancing at you. “It's a very long story. But, right now, we both need medical attention. She's been shot in the leg and bleeding heavily and I've spent the last thirteen hours being tortured.” He revealed to his boss.

“Grant, get them both to the Marshal Council Hospital right this second and make sure they don't spare any medical intervention and assistance. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Supreme Commander.” Grant replied, with a hard nod of his head as he started his car and directed it towards the Marshal Council Hospital, in Sector One.

“I'll be there promptly.” Reyes replied, clearly rushing out of his office for the parking garage.

So much of the tension went out of you and Henry, you were finally back in the protective and safe walls of London, no more worry about people trying to find and kill you, no more filthy and bare essential hotel rooms and days of endless walking. You were home and free, and with Henry. Now, you both just needed to get looked over and have your injuries treated, then you could go back to the comfort of your own flat.

You and Henry were rushed into the hospital, dozens of doctors and nurses swarming you both, poking this and pulling on that, asking a barrage of questions too fast for either of you to answer properly. The leg of your leggings was cut all the way to your hip as they removed Henry's ripped and blood soaked shirt to examine your gunshot wound. You screamed in pain as they pushed around it, and apologized profusely for it, and became more gentle about touching it.

“Good news is, it went through, relatively clean.” The doctor explained to you, standing beside your bed.

“The bad?” You whimpered, biting your lip as you tried preparing for it.

“The bullet nicked your great saphenous vein, it's the longest vein in the human body, running the entire length of the leg; which is what's causing a lot of your bleeding. ”

“Am..” You gulped down a hot lump of vomit trying to surge up your throat. “Am I going to lose my leg?” You asked, frightened beyond belief and wished Henry was in the same room as you, but they had separated the two of you after coming in with Beta Marshal Grant.

“No.” The doctor chuckled at you, shaking his head. “We have a procedure that will stop the bleeding and help the wound heal in no time. But, I must warn you, it is rather painful.”

“As long as I don't lose my leg, I don't care.” You told him.

You had already lost too much.

“Excellent, I'll have the nurse bring in the instruments and we'll get down to treating you.” He smiled at you, sweetly, trying to be supportive and calming. “Do you have any questions, before we get started?”

“Yes, how's Henry—the High Marshal.” You asked, correcting yourself.

“High Marshal Cavill has lost a good amount of blood.” He told you, his brow creasing with his concern. “We gave him a blood transfusion and an army load of fluids, while we treated his wounds. He has broken and cracked ribs and sternum, a broken nose, a severe concussion and very deep cuts on various parts of his body.” He explained to you, as gently as he could.

“But, he will make a full recovery. He's a tough young man, and has the best medical care London has.”

“Good.” You sigh, relieved.

The doctor smiled at you, gently resting his hand on your shoulder before leaving the room to prepare your treatment. A nurse came in a moment later, pushing a cloth covered cart, then put an IV port into your arm and hung up a bag of fluids, antibiotics and blood; since you had lost so much blood from your bullet wound. You hissed as she gingerly rotated your leg and slipped a triangular shaped pillow under your bent knee, an oval notch cut in the top of it for your knee to rest comfortable and securely, while they treated you.

She removed the cloth from the metal cart she brought in with her, and you saw what looked like a short caulking gun, a tube with a fat nozzle and two packaged patches. Picking up one of the patches, she ripped it open and dipped it in a small bowl of solution, the patch absorbed some of the liquid solution and became almost rubbery and gel-like. She moved around to your stabilized leg and gently pressed the ice cold patch to the bruised and puckered hole on the inside of your thigh, where the bullet exited, more than halfway up. You hissed as the cold gel patch touched the heated and angry skin of your thigh, whatever the solution she dipped it in stung and burned like liquid fire as it covered your wound, adhering to your skin with a firm hold.

“This will keep your wound protected, clean and sterile. It has antibodies that will recognize any infections or foreign matter and attack it, preventing your wound from going bad.” She explained to you, pressing her palm to it and held it there with firm pressure.

“And that?” You asked as she let go of the patch and picked up the caulking gun-like device and slotted the tub into it.

“This is Nanite Gel. It has antibodies in it, as well as stem cells and biological Nantes, that will start working to repair the severed muscle, skin, tendons, nerve endings and tissue inside your leg; closing the wound right up.” She replied. “The doctor will insert the nozzle into your wound and slowly draw it out, while filling it with the Gel. The patch also works as a barrier, since the projectile went through one side and out the other, preventing the Nanite Gel from squirting and leaking out.” She described to you.

“Fantastic.” You replied, with a nervous sarcasm.

You gulped with anticipation as the doctor came back in, with an additional nurse, and pulling on a pair of latex gloves. He smiled at you, took his position beside your leg, and took the injector from the first nurse. The second nurse grabbed your ankle and the top of your knee, pinning your leg down as the doctor lined up the tip of the nozzle with your uncovered and slightly bloody wound.

“Deep breath.” The doctor instructed you, taking a deep breath with you. “Ready?” He asked as the first nurse carefully dabbed at the blood with a wad of gauze at the end of a clamp, keeping your wound clean, so the doctor had an easy time guiding the nozzle in, which was easily bigger than your actual wound.

“More than I ever will be.” You replied, bracing yourself.

Nodding his head, the doctor pressed the nozzle to the opening of your wound and started to push it inside. You tensed and jerked, screaming again, but the second nurse had an iron grip on your leg, keeping it still as the doctor continued to push inside. You had strobing spots in your eyes and your jaw was so tight it felt like your teeth were going to shatter at any second. The doctor barked at the first nurse to give you twelve micrograms of Fentanyl for your pain, and she scurried out of your room and came running back a minute later with a IV syringe full of the opioid, pushing it directly into the tube of your IV. Within a couple of seconds, the painkiller washed over your whole body, like a hot comforter out of the dryer, and allowed you to relax, going slack on the bed.

“Good.” The doctor nodded, seeing and feeling you relax and finished pushing the nozzle the rest of the way in.

Shifting his hand, the doctor pressed down on the trigger of the injector and slowly drew it out again, filling the tunnel the bullet made with the blue-ish gel. You didn't feel the pain of it, but you felt the pressure in your leg. Your eyes were heavy, glazed over and half lidded, you felt absolutely nothing and you were so sluggish from the opioid that you couldn't even form words to think, it felt nice after all the trauma and hardship you had gone through in the last week.

So, you let it take you, pulling you under the crashing waves of exhaustion, pain and the high of the painkiller, your body going totally limp. It alarmed the doctor and nurses for a moment, fearing you had blacked out. But, once they checked you out and determined you had simply fallen asleep, they relaxed and finished tending to your wound, filling it with the gel, then covering it with another patch, like the other one, and lightly wrapped it with a bandage.

They left you to rest, closing the blinds over the window and turned down the lights, before softly closing the door behind them.

“How is she?” Henry asked Reyes as he came into Henry's room; he had heard your screams of pain from his room, across the hall.

“She's doing fine.” Reyes assured him, patting him on the shoulder. “They treated her gunshot wound with Nanite Gel, gave her some strong pain medication and she's asleep now.”

“Good.” Henry nodded, relieved, but still wanted to see you, to be by your side.

“So, what the hell happened?” Reyes asked, pulling up a chair next Henry's bedside.

Henry started to heave a sigh, but stopped, clutching his rib-cage with an arm as his ribs screamed. “I chased after her, like I said I would. It took me nearly three days to finally catch up to her. She's crafty, in a good way. She'd make a great Marshal.” He chuckled, carefully. “I was going to bring her straight back to London to testify. But, she was dead set on finding her brother, so I went with her, figuring I'd kill two birds with one stone.”

“Get her back to London to testify and have her brother prosecuted.” Reyes nodded, understanding.

“Well, when we got there, we had no clue on how to find him.” Henry continued on, staring out his room window. “I recalled that a Beta Marshal that had been banished to Bristol for dealings with Runners and Crime Bosses. Ramsey Kellan. We found him in Sector Fifteen and he gave us the information we needed.” He rubbed the side of his face, he really wished he could just take a nap, but continued to fill Reyes in.

“Somewhere along that time frame, we were outed as being in Bristol, and looking for her brother.”

“Over a decade as an undercover, and your first blown cover happens with the girl.” Reyes laughed, greatly amused.

“Yeah.” Henry frowned, not finding it funny, if his cover with you hadn't been blown, so much of this wouldn't have happened. “As I said, our cover got blown in a pub in Sector Three of Bristol. Benji Hernandez sent his best guy to track us down there. I was able to get us out of the pub and down an alleyway, where I boosted her over a wall, to keep her safe, and faced the guy. We fought, he tazed the fuck out of me, and the next thing I knew, I'm waking up in a bright room, cuffed hand and foot to a chair.”

“They tried beating and reasoning me into telling where she was, but I refused.”

“Where was she, when this was going on?”

“The hotel room we got before going to the pub.” Henry replied with a sigh.

“But, she was clearly found.” Reyes pointed out. “How?”

“I told her I would return in an hour. When I hadn't returned by morning, she got worried and decided to try and find me. Which ended up with Benji's men, who had been keeping an eye out for her, capturing her and bringing her in.”

“And the brother?” Reyes pushed, leaning forward, his elbows pressed to his thighs.

“They saw each other as she was being thrown in a van to be taken to Benji. His handler, Knox Monroe, had found out that they were siblings and outed him, and he ended up in the room with us.” Henry replied, gingerly shifting to find a more comfortable position.

“So, where is Keagan?”

“Dead.” Henry replied, bluntly. “Benji gave her a gun and forced her to decide which one of us would die first.”

“She killed her own brother?” Reyes asked, stunned and gobsmacked.

“No.” Henry shook his head, the image still burned in his mind. “She couldn't do it. She wouldn't choose either of us, she almost turned it on herself. Before, Michail managed to take the gun from her.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the image out his mind, the sound of your screams as you were forced to watch.

“He took his own life, so she didn't have to choose.”

“And Hernandez allowed the pair of you to leave afterwards?”

“No, I'm sure he would have forced either her or I to kill the other, then kill the last one himself.” Henry answered, opening his eyes again.

“Then, how did the two of you make it out?” Reyes asked, tilting his head at Henry.

Henry looked at Reyes. “Do you know Alpha Marshal Ashe James?” He asked, his eyes scrutinizing his boss.

“I do.” Reyes nodded back, his brows drawing together. “My predecessor, Eric Banner, told me, when I took over his position, when he retired, that he had a man on the inside of Bristol and to expect his reports regularly.”

“He was the one that saved our asses.” Henry explained with a sigh. “He was the one that stunned me in the alleyway. When Mikey killed himself, Ashe took the opportunity to pull his weapon and dispatched Benji and his men.”

Reyes blinked at Henry. “Are you telling me that Hernandez is dead?”

“I am. Unless, there's some way Nanite Gel can repair a hole in the brain.” He replied, with slight sarcasm. “Which I know there's not. So, he's now out of the way.”

“This is great.” Reyes grinned at Henry. “That'll be a massive blow to the Hernandez family, their operations and Bristol. Especially, when she's healthy enough to testify against Twist and his trafficking business.”

“It will be.” Henry agreed, but the only thing he was concerned with was the two of you getting well again. “I'm guessing, they'll be postponing the trial for a few weeks.”

“I still have to call the Cleric and Royal Councils and report everything that's gone down. But, I'm sure they'll delay the trial, for at least, a month.”

“Good, I want to take care of her first.” Henry added, nodding and relieved.

Reyes frowned at Henry and leaned back in his chair. “What is it between the two of you?” He asked, he had the suspicious feeling in his gut about the two of you for a while, but had only just had the time and place to ask.

Henry's cheeks warmed slightly and glanced away from Reyes, making his boss laugh out loud, seeing it in Henry's body language.

“You're in love with her.” He blurted out, tickled at the notion. “The great Upper, Henry Cavill, is in love with a Slummer, that's meant to be his Servant and Slave.”

“She's not my Slave! And, don't fucking call her a Slummer, either.” Henry roared, huffing angrily through his nose, like a bull about to charge. “I never registered her, and I never will register her, either.”

“Oh, I know you never registered her for an Ownership Bracelet, Henry.” Dylan continued to chuckle at his friend. “I checked and I got a copy of the paperwork you both filled out for her Life Pin.”

“And, you didn't say anything?” Henry asked, surprised.

“Not my business what you do with your private life, Hank.” He replied with a sigh, and crossed his arms over his chest.

“But, you pressed me into buying her.” He hissed back, eyes wide.

“I did.” Reyes nodded, pressing his lips together. “We needed the paperwork, a trail to link Twist to trafficking, and to Benji. What you did, or didn't, do with her outside of that, was purely on you, and her.” He confessed, running a hand through his short black hair.

“I was also hoping you'd find a lover or mate.” He added, clearing his throat.

“You were what?” Henry barked, taken aback.

“I should let you rest.” Dylan sighed, getting up, then carefully rested his hand on Henry's shoulder. “It's good to have you back, and alive. You did good, taking care of her and everything else. Take all the time you need to recover, the Council will be here, when you're ready to get back into it.”

“Thanks, Dylan.” Henry replied, giving him a respectful nod of his head, still brewing on what he said.

“Do you want me to call your family?” Reyes asked as he stopped at Henry's door.

“No, I'll call them, when I'm ready.” He shook his head, feeling that new wave of stress hit him. “Last time you called them about me being in the hospital, I almost died, and ended up needing a kidney replacement.”

“Fair enough.” Reyes laughed, and saw himself out.

A day later, Henry slowly limped into your hospital room, across the hall from his, and found you sitting up in bed, eyes glued to the tv and eating a jell-o cup. Your eyes shot over to Henry as he came in, setting your cup down and turned off the tv, relieved to finally see him. The two of you had only been given random updates on each other through your shared nurse, who also, gratefully, passed messages between you as well.

“Henry, should you be out of bed?” You asked as he stopped at your bedside.

“Well, I wasn't the one shot in the leg.” He chuckled and grinned at you, before leaning in to kiss you. “I just had to see you for myself.” He confessed, brushing the back of his fingers against your cheek.

“How are you feeling?”

You took a deep breath, tilting your head into his hand. “Like I got shot in the leg.” You chuckled back at him.

“Other than that, Nugget.” He laughed, shaking his head at you.

“I feel fine. Sore, but fine.” You assured him with a nod. “How about you, Puppy?” You asked, looking him over in his hospital gown, a warm and playful smile spreading across your lips.

“Same. Sore and ready to go home.” He smiled back, his stomach full of butterflies.

“I'm ready to go home too.” You concurred with him, sighing at the thought.

The butterflies in Henry's stomach wilted and died, a nauseous, heart-shaped lump forming in his tight throat, hearing you wanted to go home. His shoulders dropped, trying to get a hold on his heartbreak, before you saw it and had your mood ruined.

“You know what I've missed about it?” You asked, looking up at him, just as he managed to hide his disappointment.

“What?” He replied, pained.

“Kal.” You chuckled at him, oblivious, until you saw his shocked face. “What? You think I would miss you, when we've been together practically the whole time?” You laughed, shaking your head at him.

“No.” Henry squeaked, confused and relieved at the same time. “I just thought..” He paused, looking away from you.

“You just what, Hen?” You frowned at him, seeing his face and became worried. “Henry, sit down.” You ordered him, becoming concerned for him as you put down the arm rail, so he could sit on the edge of the bed with you.

“Tell me.” You whispered, gingerly wrapping an arm around his waist.

“I thought you were talking about going back to your family's home.” He whispered, faintly. “When you said you were ready to go back home, and that you missed them.”

“Well, I do miss them, Henry.” You told him, pressing your cheek to his bruised and nicked shoulder. “I would love to see them again. But, I wanna stay with you.” You whispered, looking up at him.

“Unless, you don't want me too?”

“I do want you too.” He replied, quickly. “I love you and I want to be with you. I want you to come home and stay with me.” He confessed to you, nosing the hair at the top of your head. “And, Kal.” He added, softly.

“Your place has become more of a home to me, than my parents' place has ever been.” You told him, honestly.

You had grown a lot in the time you shared with Henry, and a lot had also changed you. You didn't get kidnapped in your own city, imprisoned in a pitch black and freezing cold cell, either not fed or fed food crawling with unmentionables, cut off from most contact with people, other than the traffickers that had put you there, when they dragged you out for another line up for another snobbish, stuck up and entitled Upper, or to beat you into submission, without something changing you.

You still had nightmares about being in that cell.

You also changed from all the things Henry exposed you too. New foods, tv shows and the luxury of being in the upper Sectors of London, like taking you to that Royal Dinner party with his family. Henry had taken the mostly naive and sheltered Slummer and opened the world up to you. You would always appreciate and love him for that, and for taking care of you and protecting you through the long months after saving you from Twist.

Henry and Kal had become your new home, and the three of you had made a new family.

“I love you, Henry Cavill, and nothing will ever stop or prevent that.” You told him, kissing his cheek tenderly.

“So, you'll come back home with me?” He asked, looking down at you, hopeful.

“I don't want to be anywhere else.” You replied, smiling back at him.

Henry's face broke out into a smile and cupped your face in his hands. “Neither do I.” He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours and kissed you.

“Henry!” A frantic voice came from across the hall.

“Mum!” Henry called back, breaking away from you. “Mum, over here.” He yelled out, limping to your room door as his mother rushed out of his empty room.

“Oh, thank god, Henry!” She cried, rushing him and throwing her arms around him.

“Easy, Mum.” He winced, but hugged her back. “How did you know I was here?” He asked, he hadn't gotten around to calling her and his family yet.

“A report came across my desk about you being injured in the line of duty with a Slummer, and that you were still recuperating here in the hospital. I was afraid it was serious, when you hadn't called me to tell me you were all right.” Marianne explained, shaking her head at her son. “What were you doing with some Slummer that caused you to get so hurt?” She demanded, upset.

“I hope they get the punishment they deserve for getting you into such danger.”

“Mum.” Henry snapped eyes wide and looked back at you.

Marianne blinked and looked into your room, seeing your sheepish and hurt expression, then looked up at Henry. “She's a Slummer?” She asked him, surprised, as she recognized you.

Henry took a deep breath, biting his lip. “We need to talk.” He said, stepping aside, so Marianne could enter your room and followed her, closing the door behind him.

“What's going on?” She asked, taking a seat as Henry sat back down on the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his.

“Several months ago, I was undercover in Sector Thirty-One. I was tasked with infiltrating a trafficking warehouse run by one of Benji Hernandez's men. I did so, with my usual skill and process, but after finally getting an appointment with the guy and seeing the people that had been imprisoned there, Dylan told me I had to—make a purchase—to nail the traffickers and for them to get properly arrested and prosecuted by the Councils.” He explained to her.

“One of the people they had kidnapped and had for sale, was her.” He said and looked at you, giving you a soft and loving smile. “So, I purchased her, and was meant to take care of her, until the trial happened and she testified.”

“So, you bought a Slum-”

“Don't call her that.” Henry hissed, angrily, but recalled himself. “Don't call her that.” He repeated, calmer.

Marianne took a deep breath, glaring at her son. “So, you bought her, in a sting operation, took her home and acted like none of this happened, taking her to events and other functions.” She summed up, studying the two of you. “When she is, technically, your Slave.”

“Yes. But, I don't and didn't want her as a Slave. That's why I never registered her for a Bracelet.” Henry replied, licking his lips.

“So, how did the two of you end up in Bristol, of all places?” She asked, looking between you.

“I ran away, to find my brother, who got himself into a situation, as a Runner, in Bristol.” You answered, before Henry could. “I wanted to go there to try and convince him to come back home. I didn't expect Henry to come after me, when he found out where I went.”

“But,” Henry sighed and bit his lip. “I did. I was worried about her safety, and Dylan asked me, unofficially, to bring her and her brother back here. So, she could testify at the trial and her brother could face justice for his hand in the whole thing.”

Marianne looked at you, her expression stern. “And where is your criminal brother?” She asked, stiffly.

You gulped and licked your lips, staring at your covered legs and picked at the fuzz on your blanket. “He's dead.” You whispered, choking up and tears filling your eyes. “He gave his life, so Henry and I could live and get away from Benji and his men.” You blubbered, crushed.

“Sshh.” Henry hushed you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you against him.

Marianne blinked between the two of you, taken aback.

“They tried torturing her location out of me, that's why I'm so injured. They wanted to kill her to stop the trial against Twist and their operations. I refused, for obvious reasons. She tried to save me, but got caught. When they realized her twin brother was her sibling, they brought him in as well. He died for us, and she got shot in the leg during the escape. Another undercover Marshal helped us get away and back here, to London.” Henry finished explaining to his mother.

“That's what happened.” He sighed, his eyes still on you.

“You're in love.” Marianne blurted out, seeing it as plain as day now.

“Yes.” Henry nodded, looking up at her. “I don't care that she was born in the lower Sectors, mum. I love her, with my heart and soul, and she loves me.”

“I do.” You replied, gulping down your tears and clinging onto him.

Marianne sighed and pressed her lips together, she had waited, a long time, for Henry to finally find someone to fall in love with and share his life. He was the last of the five Cavill boys to find love, settle down and start a family. If she was honest, she didn't care about what social standing the girl he fell in love with was, as long as he was happy, and by the looks of it, you and Henry were more than happy and in love with each other.

“All right.” She whispered softly, nodding her head. “I approve.”

Henry lifted his head and blinked at his mother. “Really?” He asked, shocked to hear it. “You don't care that she's from the lower Sectors?”

“Honestly, Henry? No.” She replied, sighing and shaking her head. “Love is love, and nothing is stronger than true love, not even differing social status.” She told him, honestly. “But, you both know that if, and when, people find out about it, there will be issues. They'll gossip and make comments, some might even turn away from you, shunning you for being with a Sl—someone of a lower standing.” She said, looking between the two of you with an authority of a Royal.

“Do you think you both, and your love, can survive that?”

You and Henry looked at each other, a silent conversation happening between you, before Henry looked back to his mother. “Yes.” He answered, firmly.

The two of you had gone through a lot worse than people talking behind your backs and shunning you.

“All right then.” Marianne replied, standing up. “Then, you have my, and no doubt the rest of the family's, approval, respect and support in the choice of your relationship.” She approached the bed, hugging Henry and kissing his cheek, then turned towards you.

You gulped at her, like a mouse getting stared down by a hungry cat, before she leaned in and hugged you as well; you were surprised by her move, but gave her a hug back. Breaking the hug, Marianne left the room, leaving you alone with Henry again.

“That went incredibly better than I thought it would.” Henry commented, finally breaking the silence in the room.

“You can say that again.” You agreed with him, staring at the open door of your room. “What do we do now, Henry?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Now, Nugget.” He smiled, kissing your forehead. “We get you well enough to go home.” He said, squeezing you against him.

Four days later, with the help of some crutches, you left the hospital with Henry, going back to his flat in Sector Two. Kal was over the moon to see you guys again, Charlie having dropped him off at the flat that morning. Henry had body block the Akita to keep him from knocking you over and harming you, until you were able to sit down on the couch and he was allowed to greet you; pressing himself against you and licking at your face.

“Yes, yes!” You laughed, hugging his thick neck, trying to calm him down. “We missed you too, Bear. We missed you just as much.” You told him, kissing his face back and giving him scratches.

After getting settled back in, Henry carefully picked you up, making you laugh as he did.

“Where are we going, Henry?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you through the flat.

“We are both absolutely filthy and need a proper shower.” He told you, going into the bathroom and setting you down on the sink counter. “Lucy!” He called out, looking up.

“Yes, Mr. Cavill?” His flat's AI replied.

“Start the shower on preset two, please.” He said, pulling off the clothing his mother had brought him, before you both left the hospital.

“Right away, sir.” Lucy replied, and the shower came to life.

“Here, let me help.” He said, grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head.

“Thanks.” You smiled, then eased off the counter, balancing on your good leg and grasping Henry's forearm.

Marianne had even been kind enough to bring you clothes as well. So, Henry's hands dropped to the ties of your loose sweatpants and untied the knot, pushing them down your hips to pool around your bare feet. You half limped and half hopped under the spray of the hot shower head, making you moan and groan as it cascaded over your battered and sore body. Henry chuckled and stepped in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your wet hair.

“I love you, so very much.” He whispered to you. “I'm glad you came back with me.” He added, even softer.

You turned in his arms, wrapping yours around his hips. “I love you too, Henry, and I don't want to be anywhere that you're not.”

“Neither do I.” He replied, kissing you gently on the lips.

Dried blood, dirt and grim swirled around the shower drain as you and Henry helped clean each other off. You scrubbed his skin with an exfoliating sponge, careful of his cuts and stitches, as he washed your hair, then switched, Henry washing you as you washed his hair.

“There's almost no better feeling than that shower clean feel.” You said, limping into Henry's bedroom and snagged one of his shirts out of his closet, slipping it over your head. “It's such a euphoric feeling.”

“What feels better than that?” Henry asked, coming in after you and pulling on a loose pair of pajama bottoms.

You smirked up at Henry, impishly. “I think you know.” You chuckled at him.

Henry laughed, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you, tenderly, but passionately on the lips. “I agree with that.” He said against your lips. “But, you know what else feels euphoric?” He asked, lifting a brow at you.

“Tell me?” You giggled at him.

“A nap in that bed.” He said, pointing to his bed.

“Oh yes.” You agreed, biting your lip and staring at it. “The clean and divine smelling sheets, the warm and cloud-like mattress and pillows.”

“It's an orgasm in itself.” Henry cooed, staring at his bed with a wanting lust.

“I vote we sleep in it for the next year.” You said, looking up at him.

“I vote, the next decade.” He added, looking down at you.

“Deal.”

Henry scoped you up, carrying you to bed, and laid down with you. Cocooned under the soft and clean sheets, both of you moaned, as you melted into the mattress, like warm butter. You snuggled together, wrapped in each other's arms, and almost sound asleep the moment everything settled in around you.

“Lucy, go to night mode.” Henry mumbled, his body feeling like a ton of rocks, he was so tired.

“Yes, sir.” Lucy whispered back.

Everything went dark, heavy drapes closed over the windows, the lights went out, the doors locked and the air purifier went on, with the soothing sound of ocean waves filling the bedroom, and you and Henry were out cold within minutes.

You slept the rest of the day and well into the next, only getting up because your stomachs were growling for food and your bladders were screaming for release, then you both crawled back into bed and slept even longer. Henry was the first one to officially wake up from your long and deserved hibernation, he laid in bed with you, stroking your hair and the nap of your neck. He traced your face, placing delicate kisses to your eyes, between your brows, the tip of your nose, both cheeks and finally, softly, to your lips.

“Henry.” You whispered, a smile tugging on your lips, before your eyes fluttered open and met his sparkling blues.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” He asked, the tip of his finger ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Warm, content and happy.” You answered, snuggling in closer to him and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “You?”

“The same.” Henry replied, nuzzling your hair. “We should go see your parents.” He said suddenly, biting the inside corner of his lip. “They deserve to know.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead to his chest. You had been trying to avoid this, avoiding telling your parents that you had been kidnapped and sold by traffickers, to the man you were now madly in love with, and that their son was dead, having killed himself in the pursuit of saving you and Henry from the same outcome.

How do you tell them that? You asked yourself.

“I don't know how.” You mewled, squeezing his thick bicep, like it was a lifeline.

Henry frowned into your hair, stroking the small of your back. “With honesty.” He whispered back, his heart hurting for you.

You stood in front of the door to your family's flat and it felt alien, you didn't feel the familiar nostalgia of coming home, of seeing your family after a grueling and mindless fifteen hour shift at the supermarket. It felt like you were there for the very first time, as if you had never been there before and didn't belong. You could hear the noise inside the flat, your brother running around the place, playing with his toys.

Henry rested his hand on the small of your back and gave you an encouraging smile. Biting your lip, you mustered the courage to knock on the door, it didn't feel right to enter the pin and walk in. You fidgeted as you waited for the door to be open, absentmindedly rubbing your thigh as it throbbed with even the slightest bit of your weight on it.

Finally the door ripped open and Christophe looked at Henry first, his eyes growing with shock, then looked to you, where his face lit up with surprise.

“Issy!” He shouted, and launched at you.

“Fuck.” You snapped, catching him in your arms as Henry caught you in his, keeping you both from tumbling to the floor. “Easy, Christophe. I don't need any more injuries.” You tried to scold him, but only ended up laughing at him as he hung from his arms around your neck, feet dangling.

“Where have you been, Issy!” He demanded, letting go of you and looking between you and Henry. “Who's this?”

“Is mum and dad home, Chris?” You asked, smiling down at him, nervously ruffling his hair.

“Yeah!” Christophe nodded and rushed back into the flat. “Mummy! Dad! Issy's back!” He screamed running around the house.

You looked to Henry and took a deep breath, shoulders rising, rolled your eyes, and stepped into the flat. Henry followed behind you, as your parents rushed into the living room, hot on each other's heels.

“Oh my god!” Your mother gasped and scrambled to you.

“Easy.” You warned her, unable to take a second person jumping you, and motioned to your leg as she lifted a brow at you.

“What's happened to you?” Your father asked, blinking at your wrapped thigh.

“I was shot.” You sighed, figuring it was best to be open and honest, and not sugar coat too many things.

“What?” They both roared, horrified.

“You might want to sit down.” You said, motioning towards the sofas.

Looking at each other, your parents shooed Christophe back to his room and sat down on one couch while you and Henry sat on the love-seat, across from them. There was a long, and awkward, silence, before any of your spoke.

“I'm sorry, I've been gone for so long.” You started, squeezing Henry's hand for support and comfort. “There's been a lot going on, and I didn't, we didn't want to risk your, or Christophe's, safety.” You tried to explain the best you could.

“What are you talking about?” Your father frowned, shaking his head at you and Henry.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, you came out with it. “After I went looking for Mikey, that day, I was tricked and taken by a group of Traffickers in Sector Thirty-One. I spent several months in their warehouse, I don't want to go into details, I think that's best.”

“Of course.” Your mother nodded, clutching your father's hand.

“Henry here, is a High Marshal with the Marshal Council.” You introduced him. “He was undercover, trying to get information on the people running the trafficking warehouse, when he—uh—“ You gulped hard.

“He purchased me from them.”

“You what?” Your father hissed at Henry.

“It was part of his job, papa.” You cut him off, before his temper flared too much. “He had to do it for paperwork and other Council stuff. After he did that, he took me back to his place in Sector Two.”

“Is that where you've been this whole time?” Your father asked, his eyes narrowed angrily at Henry.

“It is.”

“And you couldn't contact us?” Your mother asked, upset. “Sent us something to tell us you were alive and all right?”

“She wanted too, many times.” Henry finally spoke up. “But, her life was in serious danger, and if she contacted anyone close to her, like yourselves, you would have been in grave danger as well. So, we didn't contact you for that reason.” He explained to them, hoping to ease that conflict.

“And how did you get shot?” Your father asked, still angry.

“I found out where Mikey was going.” You answered, quietly. “He was heading to Bristol, to advance his training as a Runner.” You gulped and looked up at Henry. “I ran away from Henry, and went to Bristol, trying to find him. I knew he was going to be in a load of trouble and I wanted to try and prevent that; to make him come home.” You explained to them, starting to shake.

Henry wrapped an arm around you and hugged you against him. “You can do this.” He whispered into your ear, gently.

Nodding and clearing your throat, you continued. “Henry came after me, trying to get me to return to London with him.”

“But, she wouldn't come back without Mikey.” He added, nodding his head at you, his eyes only on you. “I was meant to bring her back, so she could testify against her captors. But, I was also meant to bring Michail in, for his part in the Running business.”

“When we got to Bristol and started looking for him, people were looking for me, and they found us.” You picked up the narrative. “They took Henry after he made sure I was out of the way and safe. They hurt him.” You said, looking at his still bruised and cut up face. “I tried to go after him, but they got me as well.”

“While all that was going on, they somehow found out that Mikey and I were related and brought him in as well, locking us all in the same room.”

You stopped talking, trying to keep yourself from getting overwhelmed and turning into a sobbing mess. Your parents sat there for a long time, watching you try to control yourself and got the feeling something very bad had happened, worse than everything you were telling them.

“Where is Michail?” Your mother asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“He's-” You licked your lips and shook your head, unable to get it out of your mouth.

“I am sorry to inform you both.” Henry replied for you. “But, Michail didn't make it.” He said gently, using his High Marshal voice, the only way he knew how to say it to your grieving parents.

“They were forcing me to decide which of the three of us would go first.” You sobbed, shaking. “Mikey made the choice to take his own life, so we could live.”

Your mother wailed and threw herself on your father, howling and sobbing, screaming at the top of her lungs about the loss of her beautiful and precious boy. You sat there with Henry, clinging onto him and wincing at each terrible and heartbreaking cry your mother made into your father's neck. Your father sat there, stoically, but silently crying as he held her and rocked back and forth.

“I'm sorry.” You whined at them, drained. “I tried. I tried so hard to bring him back.” You mewled at them, crushed.

Your father's eyes were on Henry as they both comforted the women they loved. “And you, what do you get in all this?” He asked, suspicious. “You bought my daughter, are you going to keep her from her family, still?”

“No, sir.” Henry replied, frowning back at him. “I love your daughter. I have treated her as my equal from the moment I saw her, and she will always be my equal. I don't want her as a Slave or a Servant.” He looked at you and wiped your tears away.

“I just want her.” He whispered, smiling gently at you. “Forever and always.”

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