#now to figure out how to draw guns easily

[coldasscheeks]

(i can make logan walker and König meet.... in my heart i can)

i remembered i can draw :P

i made up like half of Logan's design here lolll because i forgot it.

[lacontroller1991]

Rumors (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Misc Master List

Summary: After you believed he was dead, it comes as a shock to you that he's alive and wrecking havoc.

Warnings: 18+, HEAVY LANGUAGE, drug usage, drinking, mention of cannibalism, violence, gun slinging, blood, nudity, fighting

Author's Note: I swear I'll work on my other requests but the Cooper Howard brain rot is REAL and its STRONG, anywho, first time so let me know how you guys like it :)

Word Count: 3k

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In the wastelands of California, rumors get you killed and you’ve heard rumors. Whispers of his return. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. Since he left you on your own in the middle of a gun fight to collect his bounty; and it nearly cost you your life. 

The last you’ve heard about him was that he was 6 feet deep and locked in a coffin with no way of escaping, unless someone purposely dug him out. Yet, you can’t think of a single person who would. Still, rumors spread like wildfire, and you’d be damned if you don’t try and get revenge.

-----------

The California sun beats down on your back. The heat weighs you down, but not as much as the pain in your chest. He let you believe that he cared about you. He really fooled you into a sense of partnership, romance, but you really should’ve known. Cooper Howard is a lone wolf, nothing and nobody will stand in his way. 

The site of Filly in the distance is a welcoming sight. If anyone has seen anything, it would have been here. It doesn’t take you long to cross the remaining distance, sweat dripping down your back as you enter the market. 

“Haven’t seen ya in a while (Y/N).” A local merchant snides with a creepy smile, showcasing his rotten teeth. Walking over to your side, he runs a hand down your arm and you resist the urge to gag. “What are ye in town for?” 

“Information.” You eye the stairs that are being fixed, along with other wooden structures, a signature sign that he’s been here.

“Looking for your Ghoul, huh?” His face is offly close to yours and it’s enough for you to draw your gun, casually pressing it into his side, causing him to instantly back off. “He was here two days ago. Got in a firefight with a knight, seemed like he was after a bounty.” You scoff. Of course he is. Anything for those damn vials. Vials. At the thought of vials a malicious smile forms on your face. Sooner or later, he will need to get more, and you’ll be there when he does. 

Holstering your gun, you flip him a bottle cap in appreciation before stalking off, heading to the one place you know he will be.

By the time the sun sets, you’re settled in an abandoned building, low enough to the ground where you can see what’s coming, but high enough to be out of any immediate danger. Wrapping your arms around yourself tighter, you can’t help but to think about the times where you and him would be shoulder to shoulder, barely touching, but enough to make butterflies fly in your stomach.

Despite his ghoulish appearance, you find him to be quite handsome. His rugged cowboy exterior does barely enough to hide the last shred of humanity he has, and at times, it was directed towards you. With a sigh, you let your eyes shut, sleep easily consuming over you.

-----------

“Please, let me go.” A feminine voice stirs you from your unconsciousness as your eyes blink against the harsh light of the sun. “Please, sir, I’m begging you.” Shuffling slightly, you peer your head past the concrete wall, spotting two figures, one in a blue/yellow vault-tec suit and the other in a cowboy hat with a lasso around the girl. 

“Well I’d be damned,” it’s hushed and to yourself, afraid of him hearing you and spotting you.

“I done told you vaultie, ain’t gonna happen. You deaf or sum?” His drawl sends chills down your spine as he nudges her forward with the tip of his gun. “Now hur-” his words are cut off by a coughing fit but his grip on the lasso remains. After regaining his breath, he wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “Hurry up. I ain’t got all day.” You watch in silence as the pair walks past your hideout, unaware of your existence. Grabbing your things, you rush off after them, making sure to stay in the shadows as your brain goes through different scenarios of what could happen. Would you and Cooper make up? Would he try to kill you? Would you try to kill him? Does he even care? The closer they get to the supermart, the more you hang back, hand slightly hovering over your gun. 

Trying to listen to the conversation, you strain your ears but to no avail. Peeking over an abandoned car, you focus your eyes on the situation ahead of you, watching as he gestures for the girl to go through the sliding glass door. The minute they shut, he collapses on the ground and you resist the urge to go and help him. Sighing, you open the bag at your side, rummaging through a variety of equipment before your fingers run over the cool glass of the vials that keep him sane. “That’s just ironic,” you chuckle, looking back to him still laying on the ground, a slight tang of pity radiating through your chest. If there’s anything you hate about yourself, it’s that. You’re too soft for people who have no problem leaving you out to dry. 

You could confront him now, kick him while he’s down, but being dramatic is more fun. It’s useless trying to talk to him when he’s in that sorry state. 

An hour later and you’re still outside, covering from the sun and waiting for the right moment to make your appearance. The sight of the vaultie walking alone gathers your attention as you keep out of sight? Now how the hell did she manage to escape? You’re not an idiot, everyone and their mamas know that the SuperDuper Mart takes in bodies and harvests the organs, selling them to the highest bidder. So how on this God forsaken planet did she escape practically unscathed? As she walks further away you ponder the possibility that maybe you and everyone on the surface has really underestimated the ones who live below. 

Once she is out of sight, you rush out from your hiding spot and toward the mart, hoping to find him. “Well, he isn’t where I saw him last,” you huff out, drawing your gun from its holster as you walk through the glass door, keeping your eyes vigilant. With the mart being practically empty aside from overturned themed rides, it’s easy to hear a person stumbling around, knocking stuff over. 

By the time you spot him, his back is to you, head tipped slightly back as he downs a bottle of alcohol he found. The sound of you cocking your gun causes him to freeze in place, and if you were facing him, you would spot the smile on his face. 

“You ain’t gonna shoot me now, are ya?” Your silence is deafening and you don’t move an inch, not really sure if you would actually shoot him or not.  “Was wonderin’ when you were gonna find me.”

“It’s pretty easy to find a drug addicted ghoul these days, especially ones that have a penchant for the dramatics.” You keep your gun trained on his back as he slowly turns around, dropping the glass bottle and letting it shatter to the floor. 

“Me? Dramatic? I don’t think I’m the dramatic one sweetheart. You’re the one who came in here, guns blazing. I think you’re the dramatic one.” He takes a step forward, and another, and another, until his chest is pressed right against the nozzle of your gun. “Now why don’t you put your gun down and give Coop a big ki-” your gun whacks across his face, tearing the flesh slightly only for it to heal right away, causing him to growl. His gloved hand reaches up and wraps around your throat, hoisting you against the wall while you struggle in his grasp. “That’s no way to greet me. Where are your manners?” He asks, his southern accent penetrating each word.

“Fucker,” raising a leg, you kick between his with all you can muster and spit on his face, the shock being enough to let you loose and allowing you to slip out. 

He looks at you for a second before laughing sadistically, using his thumb to collect your spit and put it in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he was savoring it. “I missed you kitten.”

Scoffing, you holster your gun and take a seat on the couch, turning your attention to the tv where you spot a young, handsome, human Cooper Howard on the screen. “Really Coop? You’re that full of yourself?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he plops down next to you before taking another bottle and giving that a swig. “Was the only half decent shit in this hell hole,” at the mention of the place, you take a proper look around, bodies laying everywhere, some human, some ghoul, and even a robot.

“The fuck happened here?”

“Was traveling with a vault dweller, traded her for some vials but I guess she didn’t take too well to the idea of her organs being sold,” he comments nonchalantly, twisting off the cap of a vial and draining the liquid into his mouth while you look at him like he grew two heads. 

“You’re meaning to tell me that that vault dweller managed to do all this?”

“Did I stutter?” Now you know you really underestimated the people in the vaults. You honestly wonder if they’re all like this or is she just some random four leaf clover. “Why’d you come in here raisin hell anyway?”

Leaning back on the couch, you look forward to the tv, trying to concentrate on the handsome man on the screen instead of the one sitting next to you, “heard you were dead.”

“The details of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Still doesn’t answer my question,” he looks at you with a look that says ‘I frankly don’t give a shit’ but something deep down inside of you tells you that he does. 

“I’m pissed as hell that you left me. I thought we were partners?” Rolling his eyes, he laps at a random white powder laying on the table before leaning back.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. Didn’t see a need to stick around. You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted. Seemed like a fair trade.” 

A sigh escapes your mouth as you take the bottle from his one hand and downed it, scrunching your nose as the alcohol burns down your throat and lights a fire in your stomach. How can he be so naive? You had initially joined him when you were both after the same group of people, but for vastly different reasons. He had wanted the large bounty on the head of the leader and you wanted to find your past lover, but somewhere along the route to finding them you developed feelings for the Ghoul sitting next to you, and you thought he developed them too. You initially didn’t spot him when the shooting started, too occupied with the Ghoul pressing his back against yours, the two of you working in tandem. Everything happened so fast and before you knew it, you were the only one shooting back at the group of people, most of them lying dead and your companion nowhere to be seen. The bounty was also gone.

He had left you on your own and it hurt. It also didn’t help that once the shooting was over and you remained, you found your former lover in the arms of another. It’s true that you found who you wanted, but at what cost? Was it really your lover than you wanted or was it Cooper Howard, the Ghoul, who you wanted?

Realistically, you know the answer. It’s pretty obvious by the way that when you heard he was alive, you practically dropped everything in pursuit of him. Taking another swig of the alcohol you ponder over your next course of actions. Should you admit your feelings for him or should you leave it? Looking back at the tv, you watch the former Cooper Howard get down from his horse, gun in hand and hat tipped ever so slightly over his eyes, much like how the man next to you does. He’s never going to be the same man again, you know that, but maybe he still has the ability to love? “I love you, you know?”

Cooper looks over to you with a puzzled look on his face before it goes blank and your heart sinks. If there was any sort of superpower you could have right now, it would 100% be mind reading. “You’re stupid.” 

“Right. Yep. Totally.” You’re pissed. You took a gamble and lost. Laid your heart on the line only for it to be destroyed. Swallowing down your pride, you get up from your seat and holster your gun, taking a couple of vials for safe keeping. “Have a good life Coop.” You don’t bother turning back, tears welling in your eyes. How could you have been so stupid? Of course he doesn’t return the feeling. You kick the dead body out of your way, too overwhelmed with your emotions to realize that he is calling your name. A hand wrapping around your wrist stirs you from your thoughts as he hand spins you around to face him, a soft look gracing his features.

“I ain’t finished,” it’s soft. Softer than anything you’ve ever heard from him but you yank your hand away, rebuilding the walls around your heart.

“I don’t wanna he-” he cuts you off with a rough kiss against your lips, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you close as his scarred lips move against yours. The kiss is rough, demanding, but also loving, intimate. It’s enough to make you dizzy. Pulling away, he keeps you in his grasp as you look up at him through blown eyes, trying to figure out what he’s playing at. “Coop?”

“Shh darlin’. You didn’t let me finish. I said you’re stupid. Stupid for loving someone like me. I’m no good for anyone, especially you, you should know this.” You can tell by the restraint in his voice that he fully means what he’s telling you. Smiling softly, you dust off his duster and pull on his vest, straightening out his clothes as he watches you, not really sure what to make of your intentions. 

“Y’know, there was this one cowboy I met years ago and when I asked how he survived as long as he has and you know what he told me?”

“What’s that?”

“We take it as it comes.” He closes the bridge between the two of you with his mouth against yours, this time it’s more eager. Taking in your bottom lip, he bites hard enough to draw blood, causing you to gasp in surprise. Using that to his advantage, his tongue slips in, exploring every crevice of the mouth that he’s longed for.

“Well ain’t this sweet. We have a ghoul and a ghoulfucker. I wonder what that sex looks like,” you and Cooper pull away abruptly, you eye the three men in sheriff uniforms while Cooper scowls, annoyed by their presence. Moving towards them, Cooper raises his hands in false surrender while you get behind his back, one hand reaching for his shotgun and the other reaching for your own gun, ready to draw at any moment. 

“What can I do for you folks?” The three men eye each other before pointing their guns at Cooper, you still standing behind him, ready to take on each of them.

“Destroying a legitimate business? That’s illegal around these parts,” one speaks up, aviators covering his eyes as he moves around to get a better view of you. “My my, don’t tell me this pretty little thing did all this damage. Why don’t you raise your hands sweetheart, let’s see that gorgeous figure.” 

If looks could kill, that man would be 12 feet under and blasted to high heaven with the biggest nuke Cooper could find. “I’d be careful if I were you, she may be pretty, but she's also a pint sized atom bomb.” His head tilts, telling you all that you needed to know. Reaching for your gun, you quickly shoot the two companions as Cooper lunges for the man who dared to flirt with you. Kicking the gun away from reach, Cooper wraps his hand around the throat of the sheriff and hoists him in the air while you loot their supplies. Turning the men around, you cut their pants off, leaving their backside exposed for Cooper to take his fair share of ass jerky. The man in his grasp squirms at the site of his counterparts being exposed, but Cooper’s grip doesn’t falter.

“Why are you sick freaks doing this?” The man continues to struggle in Cooper’s grasp, hands trying to claw away at skin but to no avail as you load your gun, sliding over to the duo. 

“Wanna do the honors sweetheart?” It’s rare that Cooper offers anybody anything, let alone a kill and it takes you a minute to process his proposal.

“We do this for the love of the game.” A gunshot rings out while the man goes limp in Cooper’s hand, brains splattered on the floor below you. Dropping the man, Cooper’s eyes flit to your body, chest rising and falling as you come off the adrenaline high. 

“Now that was hot as hell sweetheart. You sure know how to make an impression on an old man.” 

“Is that right?”

“‘m afraid so.” His eyes watch as you begin to unbuckle your armor, letting it fall from your frame to the floor.

“Then come and get me cowboy.”

@reveluving

[monakisu]

I want you to know that I came across a random post of your Death Note art, went "Awww, oh my gosh, with the way this person draws Light I think Akechi would look fantastic in the same style!", clicked onto your profile, and then saw your newest artwork was Akechi. I'm still kind of cackling over it and thought maybe you'd find it funny too. Your art is SO cute, I'm very happy I found it <333

HAHA THAT’S AMAZING (<< was an akechi artist wayyyy before i fell head over heels for light)

but rlly… theyre so similar:

- brunet

- asshole

- pretty boy

- mass murderer

- black-haired homoerotic rival

at the end of the day, the key difference is one is a top and the other is a bottom.

ok but seriously, they’re vastly different characters on a fundamental level:

- light was handed everything him on a silver platter: family, friends, looks, intellect, a comfortable life… as a bastard child of a sex worker and now an orphan, goro had to fight his way to his current position and will always harbor a terrible sense of inferiority (light is completely confident in his absolute superiority, Always (that’s why the challenge of L sent him off the deep end of obsession lol))

- light genuinely sees himself as a hero, while goro would like to feel the same but is nonetheless depressingly aware of his villain’s journey (his undesirable position as the detective vs the underdog phantom thieves, his string of assassinations, his ultimate dirty bloody goal, etc.).

- light’s motive is about the world’s salvation, cleansing, the birth of his ideal reality (very messianic of him with the slightest loving tinge of mary cradling her lamb hahaha) while goro is laser-focused on ruining this one asshole’s life in particular, vengeance and revenge at once! one’s focused on rebirth, and the other gunning straight for death! they both use murder to get what they want but light probably floats around thinking himself so clean and divine as mother of the world (ignorance is bliss) while goro is constantly desperately trying to cover up his suspiciously red hands with his gloves hehehe… they’re both constantly striving for perfection, just with varying levels of self-awareness!!

- goro is a canonical loner; light has a horde of friends; this is probably due to a difference in public persona! goro is an untouchable idea of what he thinks a human should be and is completely out of the loop when it comes to normal social interactions (believes opening with hegel will instantly endear himself to the average person (luckily he inflicted that upon akira who is decidedly not average in the slightest)), light is implied to be more down-to-earth and even slightly goofy (he’s gaming decorum like an advanced speedrunner)! it’s probably good how distant goro is, because getting any closer to him will allow you to see how off-putting and uncanny he is, sorta like an AI-generated image—seams in the wrong places and far too much teeth LOL. meanwhile light has this whole shebang so thoroughly figured out that he’s BORED with it all! he’d like to move on to the next game (with L), thank you!! light definitely still exudes uncanny creepiness (it’s his natural state of being) especially when he zones out or starts hysterically cackling out of nowhere at his own thoughts, but he’s a hundred times better at masking compared to goro due to a better upbringing. goro is starved for the adoring friends he sees akira easily picking up one after another; light couldn’t give less of a shit because he’s always had those trivial luxuries! he’d much rather prefer an adoring WORLD!!

- then there’s the difference in how they die… one started out surrounded with company but ultimately died alone, while it’s the opposite for the other (if you count the de-realization of maruki’s reality as goro’s “death” (which i don’t)).

- in conclusion, light and goro are like funhouse mirror reflections of each other!!! one is a pampered lapdog getting a taste of rabies and letting loose, while the other is a starving wolf trying to domesticate itself for treats and headpats!! and i <3 them both!!!!!

anyways i may be wrong about light because im going purely off of fics, tumblr shitposts, and my own imagination :] feel free to school me in a way that won’t destroy my delusions!

[mssorceressupreme]

Hiiii

I think your writing is soo addictive and creative, to me it's like a breath of fresh air, especially because an active Maze Runner blog is so hard 😭🤚

Could I request a Minho X reader, and reader is from one of the other mazes? Could you have her be really funny, always cracking puns and that's what she said jokes, loud, laughs a lot and is fun to be around .And she escapes with Aris, and she's a total badass in combat, and had a similar job to Minho so they bond over that lol.

Even if you don't write this, just know your writing is fire, so please never stop.

💕

of course love, I’d be more than happy to write this for you!! 🥰 actually since this prompt is really similar to what I was planning to write for my other POV, “Who Is She?”, I’ll make this a part two to that and weave in the elements of your prompt 🫶🏼🫶🏼 I hope this satisfies your idea 😭🫶🏼

——-

Who Is She? Pt. 2

Pairing: Minho x reader

Summary: a second part where Minho and you escape the compound with the others, and deeper feelings arise between the two of you.

Warnings: mild violence, use of guns

———

“I’ll meet Thomas and the others on the other side, promise you’ll find us later?” Aris wanted to make sure you’d be safe before crawling through the vents beneath his bunk.

“Yeah I’ll find you guys, just need to do something real quick.” You affirmed, before the both of you parted ways, leaving your room for good.

The other members from your glade, were at the dining hall, you and Aris, however, wanted to grab this opportunity to escape the compound.

You shut the heavy metal door behind you, the screech was loud enough to draw attention to your room, but thank goodness there weren’t any guards around.

Or so you thought.

As you turned a corner, you were met with a large, intimidating figure. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he growled, his grip like iron as he grabbed your arm, yanking you harshly.

“Let go of me!” You snapped, treating to wrench your arm free, but as you did so, you managed to swiftly slip your hand inside his pocket and steal his ID card. The card that would hopefully grant you guys access through these high security doors.

“Let go!” You continued, but with each plea, his grip grew stronger. “I said let—”

“Let go.” Minho appeared on the end of the hallway, slowly making his way towards us. The guard glared at him, his grip no looser than before.

“As the host, I thought you’d have more decorum, some respect with how you treat your guests.” Minho frowned, “Don’t you agree Y/N?” He turned to you.

You smiled slyly, knowing what Minho was capable of, his confident demeanour was such a turn on for you. Man, it was hot when a guy knew what he was doing, confidently, at that.

The guard sneered, “This is none of your business. Get back to the dining hall.”

Minho’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching, “Let her go. Now.”

The guard’s grip faltered for a moment, but he didn’t release you. “Or what?”

Minho swiftly pulled out a gun, the metallic click echoing ominously in the hallway. The guard’s eyes widened in shock. “Where did you get that?!”

Without hesitation, Minho fired, the bullet sending an electric shock through the guard’s body. He collapsed to the ground, twitching as the current coursed through him.

Minho grabbed your hand, pulling you into a run.

“How did you find me? This place is like a maze,” you panted as the two of you sprinted down the corridor.

Minho flashed a proud grin, “Oh, trust me, mazes are my forte. I was a runner back in the glade.”

Your face lit up upon the common ground he just shared, “Nice to know I’m escaping with a fellow runner.”

“Why weren’t you with Aris? If I didn’t find you, you could’ve been…”

You took out the ID card and showed him, “To get this. Could be our way out.”

He nodded, “Not bad, I suppose runners are the smartest of the bunch.”

“A statement I will not defy.” You smirked.

“This way,” You continued to hold hands as he led you through the compound, all too easily. He had this whole placed mentally mapped out in a few days, which was impressive.

As he ran, you snuck a few glances at him, eyeing him up and down. The way he led you, his confidence, the way his black compression shirt hugged his physique perfectly, making his biceps evident. It made you drool internally, but no way would you ever admit that aloud.

Eventually, you both found the others, who managed to get Teresa out. Apart from reuniting with the others, we also now found that there were multiple troops of guards chasing after us, that’s lovely!

“Come on, we gotta go!!” Thomas urged everyone, “This way!!”

“Why are they shooting at us?!” Frypan yelled, dodging what seemed to be never-ending bullets.

“Anyone have ideas on how we’re going to make it through that bloody vault door?” Newt looked around frantically, seeking answers.

“Here! I’ve got it!” You pulled the card out of your pocket, swiping it multiple times before the door finally turned green, granting you access to escape. (a/n: their escape scene is a bit different from the movie lol)

As soon as you made it past the door, Aris smashed the keypad, sealing the doorway between the guards, Janson, and your group. Winston grabbed a pistol, which was resourceful.

“Good thinking, let’s grab some of their stuff while we can.” You instructed, grabbing a gun yourself, and a backpack.

The others followed through before Thomas hurried you lot once more, “Come on, we’ve got to go! Keep moving!”

You arrive at the main door, towering over the group of you. Thomas wasted no time pulling the lever, and Minho held out his hand for you to hold before officially escaping the compound.

“Just keep going!” Minho urged the group, “we’ll loose them in the storm.”

Teresa came across an abandoned mall, and decided to enter, “Come on! Get down here!”

The group of you entered down one by one, finding temporary refuge in a cracked, dilapidated mall. The blistering heat of the scorch was relentless, but Minho stayed close to you, his protective instincts kicking into high gear.

“Let’s pack some of this stuff up, anything you think you might need. We’ll split up, see what we can find and meet back here.” Thomas instructed, to which you nodded.

You wandered off alone, exploring the place with a tiny torch. The runner instincts in you had not diluted at all since the maze.

“Trying to get rid of me so fast?” Minho called out as he jogged up to you.

You chuckled, “Just wanted to explore that’s all.”

“Let’s do that together then, you’ll need this.” He tossed you a larger torch.

“Better.” You affirmed, turning it on.

“This place is dead silent…we could be as loud as we want and no one would hear us for miles.” You said, as you explored the mall.

Minho held back his laughter, “That’s what she said.”

You paused momentarily, before recalling what you said. We can be as loud as we want. I’d definitely be vocal for you Minho. “Whatever.” You playfully punch him, rolling your eyes but biting back a smile.

Under the moonlit sky, you and Minho shared a quiet moment. You stood in the soft glow of the broken mall’s atrium, a moonlight ray shining through the glass roof. The silver light casting ethereal shadows around you.

“I feel like now might be the perfect time to say…thank you,” You began, “…for saving me.” Your voice soft with gratitude.

“Of course, we needed that key card of yours.” He witty remarked earned another punch from you.

“Dick.” You chuckled.

Minho smiled, eyes warm and sincere, “I’ll always be there for you. You can trust me.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, filled with unspoken words and mutual understanding.

“You know, uh, I’m glad that it was you I ran into at the hallway that day.” You confessed, out of everyone in the world, you were glad that it was Minho you met that day.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He smiled softly, before Thomas and the others ran over to you guys.

“RUN! RUN!” He shouted. The two of you stood there, squinting at his unusual behaviour.

“Oh shit!” You said in unison, as the two of you pieced together the fact that weird zombie like humans were chasing you. (a/n: they didn’t know the definition of cranks yet).

“Well, let’s hope we make it out alive!” You ran alongside Minho.

“If we do, will you marry me?” Minho blurted out, while sprinting.

“What?!” You were breathy, but a rush of adrenaline surged through you.

“Ignore what I said!” He yelled, turning back to get a view of our chasers.

“Only if you let me be your girlfriend first!” You shouted back amidst the running.

“Deal!”

[penny00dreadful]

CW for this chapter on AO3

Part 1/ Part 3/ Part 5/ AO3

The Cowboys were now convinced that there was valuable treasure to be found below. Why else would they have been set upon by a group of men who both looked and acted like they were a part of a secret society?

Nothing Eddie, Steve or Robin said to them would convince them otherwise. 

Despite Steve’s attempts to argue with them that these people seemed to be wanting to preserve the area and not disrespect it by grave robbing, which was essentially what they were all doing, his arguments fell on deaf ears.

They did concede to strength in numbers, however. Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how an extra three people would improve their strength. Especially since one of those people ended up on his ass the first time he shot a gun, but he supposed Steve and Robin’s skills made up for that. 

As soon as they had resettled their camp a little closer, Robin had broken out the Seagrams whiskey again.

Steve had passed, wanting to keep a clear head in case anything else happened, so the bottle was just passed back and forth between Eddie and Robin and they had managed to make their way through a sizable amount of it.

Robin had passed out with the bottle cradled close to her chest about a half an hour ago, leaving a hammered Eddie and a sober Steve on their own to entertain themselves.

Steve had decided, after Eddie’s display with the elephant gun, that he needed to learn at least a little self defence. And Eddie, bolstered by the alcohol in his blood, had decided that now was the perfect time to learn.

It wasn’t like Eddie was completely inexperienced. He had some bar brawler knowledge but that was about the extent of it. 

Steve was standing in front of him, hands up, palms out, waiting for Eddie to deliver his punch as he had been doing for the last few minutes.

Eddie blew a strand of hair out of his face and raised his fists, glaring at the palm of Steve’s hand like it had personally offended him.

How could a palm offend him?

What kind of scenario could he come up with in his head in which a palm offended him?

Eddie’s sugary-syrup mind could certainly come up with plenty of thoughts of how those palms might not offend him but maybe he shouldn’t be thinking things like that right now.

God damn, why did he drink so much? Drinking always made him horny.

With a large swing, Eddie cracked his fist into Steve’s palm hard and steady but he only had half a second to celebrate his success because he had apparently put all of his balance and working brain cells into his fist and so the rest of his body was left without.

His foot slipped out from under him and with the momentum of his fist, his body followed, tumbling forward and he would have face planted hard into Steve’s chest if Steve hadn’t twisted, allowing him to skate by his body but still catching him fast around the middle.

He slowly lowered Eddie’s limp and giggling figure back to the ground, gently and without seeming to put in much effort at all, apparently able to hold his body weight easily which Eddie tried desperately not to think about. 

In fact, he figured out the perfect way to distract himself.

He squirmed a little, like a kitten trying to get out of a cuddle and when Steve let him go, he crawled on his hands and knees over to Robin’s snoring body, plucked the nearly empty bottle from her hands and sat heavily back on his bum, sending Steve an extremely clumsy wink.

“Do you think that it’s maybe time to slow down?” Steve asked, a small little bewildered grin on his face.

Eddie widened his eyes and stuck his bottom lip out in a big doe-eyed pout. “I know when to say no, sweetheart.”

Steve just laughed quietly to himself with a conciliatory nod, his lashes low and his big hazel eyes glittering through.

“Y’know you…” Steve hesitated, looking back down and starting to draw nonsense patterns in the sand. “You confuse me. I can’t figure you out.”

Eddie shrugged, attempting to be smooth with it, but all of his movements were far too fumbling. 

“Well, where would the fun be if you could? Don’t you like a little mystery with your men, King Steve?”

Steve smiled again, a small, soft thing and he tilted his head. “Maybe. Do you?”

Eddie mirrored him. “Maybe. What have you figured out about me?”

“You know how to bar fight, but you’re a scholar. You dress in a semi-respectable fashion, but you have hidden tattoos and you wear far too much jewellery. Your hair seems to just kind of… exist on top of your head. You don’t do anything with it, but you’re clean shaven and your nails are neat. For some reason, when I asked Rob to help me out, she picked you. A librarian. But you were still able to get me out of prison and stop my execution. You were able to open the puzzle box and according to Rob, you have other unusual skills. Like lockpicking and hotwiring. And there’s like this… shell. You don’t make sense, it’s like you’ve come from two different worlds and… now you’re here?”

“Careful there, Stevie.” Eddie leaned back, resting on his elbows in the sand. “It almost sounds like you’re curious about little old me. A boy can get ideas from thoughts like that.” He rolled his head along his shoulders, allowing his hair to spill over and staring up at the sky, tugging a little at the chain for his pocket watch. “You gonna ask me next what’s a place like me doing in a girl like this?”

He pulled his head back up, turning to bat his eyelashes at Steve and Steve just smirked at him, not bothering to hide that he had been staring at Eddie’s stretched out neck.

“Yeah, sure.” Steve deadpanned. “That’s what I was going to say.”

“Well, sweetheart. There’s not much to tell. Dad was less of an archaeologist and more of a grave robber, very similar to our friends over there,” his knees were bent up as he laid back on his elbows, but he now nudged one knee over in the direction of the other party and instead of extending the effort to pull it back up, he just let it fall heavy to the side. “But eventually, raiding the tombs of the long dead wasn’t good enough for him and he started to just steal from the museums to sell on the black market. I was living with my uncle and my mom by then. Rural Indiana feels like a whole solar system away right now.”

“Rural Indiana, huh?” Steve asked, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed out, before laughing a little to himself. “My uncle still refuses to get electricity. At this stage I don’t know if he ever will. Don’t think he trusts it. What can that electric do for me that I can’t do for myself, son?” He snorted gently to himself again. “Crazy old man.”

He could see Steve grinning at him out of the corner of his eye.

“So how did your mom and your uncle feel about you running away to Egypt to follow your dads career path?”

Eddie rolled his head around. “My dad has nothing to do with my interest in archaeology. That was all my mom. And I’d like to think she would have supported me.” He pulled the pocket watch out, letting it rest loosely in his hand, running his thumb over it. “She was Egyptian, you know.”

“Oh?” Steve skated his eyes across Eddie’s dark hair and then back up into his dark eyes, his head tilting again as he listened, like a fascinated puppy dog.

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed out. “She was… she was a big part of my life. So,” he inhaled again, almost inflating himself to get a barrier back up between Steve and his exposed innards, tucking the watch back into his pocket. “Egypt is in my blood, Harrington. I was born here. Masri is my mother tongue. So, yeah. Now I’m back here, trying to do right.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded. “I get that. But why not continue to stay… stay safe in your museums. Why were you so adamant about coming out here with us?”

“Because what’s there to be scared of? Knowledge is out here just below the surface and I am sick and tired of waiting around for other people to discover it. Why shouldn’t I be able to come out and do it for myself?”

Eddie pushed himself to his feet, well and truly fired up now.

“This is my mother’s country and if my lowlife of a father and people like him can come out here to steal, then why can’t I come out here to learn?” He pointed down at Steve. “I may not be a gunfighter or an explorer or an adventurer, yet. But I am proud of what I am!”

Steve was just grinning up at him now, a little bewildered as Eddie waved his arms around, but also a little charmed. 

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“I–” Eddie thumped his fist against his chest. “–Am a librarian.” He almost growled out, turning his fired up eyes back down.

He had liquid courage as an inhibition inhibitor flowing through him, so he didn’t allow himself to think about it too much, spots starting to dance in his vision as he dropped to his knees and leaned into Steve.

“I’m going to kiss you now, King Steve.” He stated, firm and resolute as Steve’s face began to swim in and out of focus.

Steve raised his eyebrows, disbelieving. “Just Steve. Please.”

Eddie smiled, a big, goofy, uninhibited smile. “Okay.” He muttered. “Just Steve.”

Eddie leaned forward while Steve stayed exactly where he was, watching him with some level of amusement that Eddie wasn’t sure how to take.

But it didn’t really matter anyway, because no sooner had he leaned his centre of gravity over when his eyelids fluttered shut and he fell limp into blackness.

In hindsight, getting blackout drunk in the middle of the desert without a water closet available or an icebox nearby had not been his smartest moment. No bed or even an aspirin in sight to help him through waking up surrounded by sand and with the sun beating down on him like it was on a mission solely to kill him.

But they had a large and hefty supply of water and Eddie practically drowned himself in it as soon as he woke up. Plus, he’d always been able to bounce back pretty quickly. 

So by the time Steve was finished poking at Robin’s cheek, and Eddie was pretty sure she was two seconds away from shooting him in the knee, he turned his attention.

Unfortunately for him, Eddie was already feeling a little better.

Invigorated by the coffee they had brought and the eagerness in his belly to get back to it, Eddie practically bounced down to the chamber below, puzzle box in hand. Steve followed placidly behind and Robin stomped, looking like she’d desire nothing more than to commit double murder at that moment.

Her scowl only got deeper as the three of them heaved, standing the sarcophagus that had fallen through the ceiling the day before upright on the wall; Eddie was practically vibrating as he set the puzzle box key into its lock.

“I’ve dreamed of this day ever since I was a child.” Eddie whispered in anticipation, his fingers flexing on the puzzle box.

Steve raised his eyebrows. “You dream about dead guys?”

Eddie didn’t bother responding, just ignored him, choosing instead to point out the lid of the coffin.

“The sacred spells have been removed. Sarcophagi were supposed to be made for whoever was going in them, so to have them chiselled off…” Eddie shook his head, a little bewildered. “It suggests that this burial was done last minute, quickly, without prep time which… makes no sense.”

He looked at Steve who was waiting for him to continue and Robin who looked unusually grave.

“Mummification takes seventy days to complete.” She said, crossing her arms and eyeing up the coffin with suspicion.

Eddie was more confused than suspicious. He’d never read about such a rushed mummification before. 

“And to have the spells scratched off, it’s a sign of some great wrongdoing.” With his free hand, he brushed his fingers over the deep grooves of the hieroglyphics. “They wanted to send a message to the gods not to let him off so easily. Don’t let him in. Condemn him. So he was condemned in both life and death. This man was cursed… doomed, even.”

Eddie couldn’t understand it. He just hoped that seeing the mummy that was inside would help to provide more answers.

Robin and Steve were sharing the grave look between them now.

“Believe it yet?” Steve asked. “How about we hold on for just a second. We don’t want to release anything cursed–”

Eddie couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes. Cursed. There were no such things as curses.

He didn’t wait for Steve to finish the thought. He turned the key in the lock and the clicking had anticipation zinging through his veins while Steve and Robin gaped at him, outraged.

The lid of the sarcophagus shifted a little and Eddie had a moment of wild panic where he thought oh fuck, maybe there is a curse, but he came back to himself almost immediately, mentally slapping himself for such a ridiculous thought. Clearly the lock had just released the lid and it had shifted because of that.

He gave Steve and Robin a look, as if to say are you going to help me with this?

The two of them shared another grimace before shrugging. 

“If there was a curse, it’s already out.” Robin muttered, moving around to Eddie’s side and placing her hands next to his.

When Steve took his position on the other side, the three of them braced their knees and lifted.

The lid came away surprisingly easily, until it started tilting backwards and the three of them were forced to let go as it went crashing to the ground, followed by the most sickening, stomach churning smell Eddie had ever had the displeasure of smelling before in his life. 

He turned back to the open sarcophagus, expecting to see a human figure wrapped tightly in linens and standing upright in his coffin, but instead the sight he was met with sent him stumbling back a step in horror.

There was a body in the sarcophagus, alright. But he was rotting. Still covered in sloughing flesh, blackened and goopy bones poking out where the skin had fallen away, eyes, nose and tongue missing and jaw hanging open in a gruesome scream.

What little linens he was wrapped in seemed to have partially disintegrated with his body and Eddie was left even more confused than he had been before.

“Smells like the Gillman, don’t you think?” Robin muttered, pinching her nose, eyes darting between Steve and the mummy.

“Is he supposed to look like that?” Steve asked, his upper lip curled in disgust.

“No.” Eddie exhaled, stepping closer again despite the smell. “He’s still…”

“Juicy.” Robin and Steve answered at the same time.

Eddie huffed out through his nose. “Yes. He’s still juicy… but he’s over three thousand years old? It looks like he’s still… decomposing. Mummification involved drying out the body of all moisture. It’s why so many have survived for so long. And the dry conditions of the desert too. But even if the mummification process had been improperly applied… he shouldn’t look like this. He should just be… a skeleton.” 

He was still staring wide eyed and open mouthed at the body in front of him, wondering how the fuck this was possible when he heard a mutter of “Shit,” behind him.

He turned to find Steve kneeling over the fallen lid, tracing his fingers over the series of four parallel lines scratched inside.

They matched perfectly to the pattern his own fingers made.

“Fingernail marks.” Eddie whispered. “Jesus fuck. He was buried alive.”

Eddie tilted his head, reading the words the man had apparently also scratched into the lid.

“Death is only the beginning.”

He looked up just in time to see both Steve and Robin stare at each other, something silent passing between them and simultaneously reaching for their holstered weapons.

“What are you two going to do?” Eddie asked, incredulous, not knowing what the fuck they needed the weapons for. “Shoot him?”

They were all standing now and Steve shifted around a little, standing between Eddie and the mummy.

“If he wakes up. Yes.”

Eddie was starting to wonder if coming along with Steve and Robin had been the best idea he’d ever had. He loved Robin, don’t get him wrong, and Steve had been growing on him… like a boil. But they were so suspicious of everything. It was a little much if he was honest.

But still, he supposed any expedition was better than no expedition at all. 

As he weaved his way through the various tents and workspaces the Cowboys had set up, he was stopped short at the sight of the Egyptologist they had brought along, practically wrestling with a humongous and ancient black book with a familiar indent in the front, same as the one on the sarcophagus, trying to wrestle it open.

Eddie was immediately intrigued. Legend had it that the Book of Amun-Ra was made of solid gold, but this book looked like it was made of obsidian. 

A counterpart to the Book of Amun-Ra.

The Book of the Dead.

And Eddie wanted it.

When the Egyptologist caught sight of him staring, he stopped his abuse of the artefact in his hands and crossed his arms protectively over it, like Eddie was going to snatch it from him at that very moment.

Eddie just scowled. 

“Looks like you need a key.” He said before turning his back and continuing on towards his party, already formulating a plan in his mind for how he could steal it out from under their noses.

Around his party's campfire up ahead, he could see Steve and Robin, but could also see the Cowboys and Tommy sitting around with them.

The Cowboys had the canopic jars they found in their hands, waving them around with little care and were scoffing at the very concept of curses and how everyone seemed to be believing in them so easily.

It made Eddie feel a little guilty. 

He’d thought the same. Said the same.

But it also made him want to snatch the jars out of their hands and put them back where they’d found them. What right did they have?

Eddie’s guilt and irritation was quickly replaced with an almost shocking feeling of jealousy when he saw that Tommy had practically plastered himself against Steve’s side, leaning heavily into him and based on the upward curl of his mouth, he was muttering something teasing into Steve’s ear.

Steve wasn’t looking at him, seemed to be trying to pretend he wasn’t there, but when he heard the sound of Eddie’s approaching footsteps in the sand, Steve glanced up towards him and then turned back to Tommy, finally giving him some attention.

“You’re in his seat.” Steve snapped, his eyes cold and hard. Tommy just raised his eyebrows, opening his mouth for another quip but Steve cut him off. “Move.”

If the hard set of Steve’s jaw was anything to go by, he wasn’t joking around and Tommy seemed to recognise that as well, pushing himself to his feet with a scoff and shoulder checked Eddie hard as he walked away.

Eddie himself had to try to squash the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, almost mad at himself for responding in such a way to a caveman display of masculinity but unfortunately for his sanity, it was really doing something for him.

He sat himself down at Steve’s side and couldn’t help but lean in a little, but not as much as Tommy had been. Steve tilted himself a little, open and welcoming and again: there were those damn butterflies.

Eddie held his hand out. “Look what I found.” He said, the small petrified beetles resting in his palm. “Scarab skeletons, flesh eaters. I found them inside our friend’s coffin.”

Steve snapped his head over to him, his eyes wide in alarm. 

“What were you doing back down there alone?”

Eddie grinned at him, knocking their shoulders together. “What? Afraid the big bad mummy is going to come and get me, Just Steve?” He wiggled his fingers in front of Steve’s face who only responded with a far too serious frown.

Eddie just continued on. “These little guys can stay alive for years feeding on the flesh of a corpse. So it seems that unfortunately for our friend, he was still alive when they started eating him.”

“What the fuck.” One of the Cowboys, Jason, muttered from across the fire, the rest of them watching Eddie with horrified eyes.

“So someone threw these bugs in with our guy and they slowly ate him alive?” Steve asked, picking up one of the beetles.

“Very slowly.” Eddie leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice down to a rumble, putting on a show for the apparently weak stomached Cowboys. “Based on my research, it looks like our friend suffered the Hom-Dai. The worst of all Ancient Egyptian curses. One only reserved for the most evil of blasphemers. But I’ve never read about the curse actually being performed on someone before.”

“That bad, huh?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. Well. They never really used it because it was pretty extreme and there was a healthy fear around it. There was a superstition that if a victim of the Hom-Dai should be raised, it would bring down the Plagues upon Egypt again.”

He was too busy examining his beetles to notice Steve and Robin leaning into each other, whispering with pensive faces.

Eddie’s heart was thundering in his chest. 

It had been years since he’d had an excuse to pick a lock and even longer since he had to do it quietly.

The Egyptologist that had come along with the Cowboys was fast asleep, the Book of the Dead locked up tight in his personal travel case and Eddie had taken the first opportunity available to him to break in.

He snatched the book up and scurried away to his own side of camp before he got too excited about his thievery and gave himself away.

Everyone around him was asleep and he kneeled down by the makeshift table next to Steve, trying not to get too distracted by the hair spilling over his eyes in his sleep as he breathed, slow and even, a rifle clutched in his hands.

Eddie shook his head, placing the dense black book down and crawling over as quickly and as quietly as he could, hovering over Robin’s body to slowly pull the puzzle box from her pocket, trying not to wake her up.

He succeeded, looking down on it cupped in his palms.

“This is a very stupid idea.”

 A voice from behind him lowly rumbled and Eddie did jump this time, whipping around to find Steve sitting up, one hand on the black book and his eyes digging into Eddie’s.

Eddie frowned, shuffling back over on his knees, popping open the puzzle box and all but slamming it down onto the lock on the front cover.

“It’s just a book, Steve.” 

Steve snatched his hand back as Eddie twisted the lock, perhaps with a little too much force and snapped his eyes down.

There was a moment of awkward silence between them, Steve no doubt unsure about how to deal with Eddie’s little temper tantrum.

“I thought this book was supposed to be made of gold?” Steve asked, offering an olive branch.

Eddie sighed, allowing his shoulders to drop from around his ears.

“I don’t think this is that book. The Book of Amun-Ra is rumoured to be made of gold, but I think this is a different one. I think this is the Book of the Dead.”

“You can’t be serious.” Steve looked up at him, almost like he was hoping Eddie was about to reveal he was joking.

“Are you sure you should be playing around with this thing?” Steve’s hand hovered over Eddie’s, almost ready to grab.

Eddie turned his big eyes on Steve, jutting out his bottom lip in a pout. “No harm ever came from reading a book, Steve.”

He slowly opened it, the cover thunking heavily down onto the wooden table.

Almost immediately a wind blew through the camp, ruffling the tents, combing through their hair and Steve’s shoulders tensed. 

Looking down over the text spread beneath him, Eddie started to mutter the words to himself, following along with his finger.

“Should you be doing that? What if you’re speaking a curse into existence?”

Eddie ignored him. He needed to keep reading. Felt like he almost had to. There was something enchanting about the text. It felt correct in his mouth and there wasn’t a single moment of hesitation from him as he continued to read, his voice slowly rising from a mutter to a full chested speech.

A hand shot out and slammed the book closed and Eddie blinked back to himself, being met with the wild and frantic eyes of Robin staring down at him, her hand keeping the book firmly closed.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

Eddie slowly turned back into his surroundings. The wind had picked up into a healthy gust and the horses and camels around them were antsy, pawing at the ground and tugging against their reins. 

There was a sound being carried to them over the air, an unsettling chittering getting slowly closer and closer.

Over the horizon, a shadow was descending. A large black mass rushing straight for them, slowly coming into sharp relief as a writhing buzzing mass of locusts.

“Mr. Hargrove!” The Egyptologist cried from his tent, as though they would be able to fight the swarm off with their fists. “Mr. Carver, Mr. Benson, Mr. Hagan! Wake up!”

Eddie had only a fleeting moment to wonder just what the fuck they themselves were going to do before he was pulled to his feet, his hand clasped tightly in Steve's, Robin on their heels and the three of them ran as the buzzing around them became almost deafening.

He couldn’t see anything around him, the insects closed in like a black curtain and Eddie was overwhelmed. The only reason he was able to keep upright was Steve’s hand in his, half pulling, half dragging him into the entrance of the tomb the Cowboys had come and gone through. 

They were plunged into darkness, the burning torch that Steve had snatched up from the fire only providing a small amount of light.

There was a fork in the corridor ahead of them and through the thinning-out swarm, Eddie saw the Cowboys break away in one direction while he, Steve and Robin shot down another.

They would have kept running too if Robin hadn’t somehow stopped them both dead with her hands at the back of both of their collars, yanking the two of them into an alcove where the three of them pressed in close.

Eddie was face to face with Steve’s chest hair as his body was blocked in, defended against the swarming hoard that was passing them by.

Robin was by his side, pressed in tight and she blinked her big steely eyes up at Steve, his arms spread out at either side of them, wall to wall.

“We’ve faced worse.” She said to him, stoic and firm, like it was a mantra of theirs she was repeating. 

Steve only nodded in response. 

Eddie looked back and forth between the two of them as much as he was able, squeezed into this small corner as the buzz got quieter and quieter, wondering just what the fuck kind of history Robin and Steve had between them.

Just as things had settled to a dull hum and the three of them slowly crept out of their hiding space, checking the coast was clear, there was an echoing call, distorted and far away.

“My glasses!”

Steve had only taken one step towards the noise when it was interrupted by a terrified scream. 

Eddie’s body froze, still as a statue, something primal inside of him taking the choice away.

Time seemed to stretch on ahead of him, slowed down and sped up at the same time.

It could have only been a second before he was able to move again, almost pushed into motion by the two next to him, running in the direction the scream had come from, trying to find who it was.

They were forced to come to a crashing halt again when a small hill of sand began to rise up in front of them.

Spilling out of the sand underneath were piles upon piles of iridescent black beetles, turning the sandy ground beneath them dark in a second. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Eddie screeched, nearly tripping over his own feet as Steve and Robin shoved him back, so when they turned, he was running at the head of the line, the furthest away from the river of beetles rushing towards them.

The corridor broke out into a stone walkway, dropping out at either side of them to what was sure to be a deadly fall and Eddie tried not to think about it at all as he spotted an alcove, very similar to the one they’d hidden in before and he dove for it, thinking is this really what’s gonna take me out? I’m gonna die from fucking beetles and locusts? Or falling to my death in some spooky ruined mirage city?

He landed in a heap, curling into the bottom of the alcove but thankfully didn’t feel any creepy crawlies scrambling all over him.

He also didn’t feel the two bodies of his companions tumbling down on top of him, which was less relieving.

Pushing himself up onto his knees, Eddie turned, peering around the corner to see the still thick swarm of beetles skittering up the walkway, bypassing them completely, like they were being drawn to something. 

Steve and Robin were standing on an outcropping on the opposite side, panting and wide eyed, watching the beetles pass.

Eddie would have been interested to see how it ended. 

He’d have been interested to see the strangely mesmerising shifting sea of insects slowly thin out and then stop. 

He’d have been interested to see if Steve and Robin were just as fascinated and grossed out as he was.

But he didn’t get to see any of that.

Because as he collapsed back into the wall behind him in relief, clutching at his heart, thankful that Steve and Robin were okay, the wall behind him moved.

Like a trapped door had been activated by his weight, Eddie found himself falling, tumbling backwards down a stone chute, swallowed whole into darkness. 

Part 1/ Part 3/ Part 5/ AO3

Happy birthday @hbyrde36

My biggest thanks and much love to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for the beta work with this and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation!

[heartfullofleeches]

Thxxx! To the anon that asked about Erin wearing a skirt! because what if he found out his darling has a thing for tough guys in skirts!💖 I don’t know what type he buys tho? Like a long black maxi skirt? A cute one (that’s your favorite color) with ruffles and bows? Or a super short skirt (of any one you want) that barely manages to hide all that BADONKADONK 💖💖

Also maybe some nsfw if your up for it!

Erin getting sucked off while on top of a counter? (Or anywhere else if you prefer) you making him hold his skirt up as you stare at him while sucking him off. Legs on you shoulders and hands on his thighs! Just incase he tries to close them! 💖

Pegging Erin in the skirt (obviously) it allows you to easily give his ass a good smack and keeps him looking cute. Does he (fake) complain? Yes. But once you start praising (or degrading) him, how cute he looks all dolled up, only pretty sluts get fucked, and how would everyone that he bullies react if they found out their tormentor likes to wear cute skirts and get fucked like a cheap whore. He can’t help how much he loves it!

Thank you for reading my ask btw! Hope you like it!

(So I saw this ask after yesterday's post, but I felt that this would be a good continuation)

Erin runs three yellow lights on his drive to your place. He's already half way there before you send him your address. He knew your address due to the harmless act of following you home on weekends and when he wasn't hanging out with his click. At stops he's unable to past he adds a second coat of lip gloss and draws under his eyes with the eye shadow he picked up from a drug store on the way. His heels clack loudly against concrete as he marches to your door. It opens right as he raises his fist to knock.

Erin quickly brushes his hair over his shoulder. "Hi."

"Hey. Heard you coming."

"Yeah... Just got a little excited to see you is all..." Erin trails off. Fuck, was that too far? He was desperate for you, but he didn't want you to know he was. That, amongst other things would probably scare you off. Was he trying too hard? Too little? God, he just wanted you to kiss him already.

"So what are we going to-"

Grabbing Erin by his collar, you drag him into a kiss and your home as you slam the door behind him. The pressure on his neck makes his vision fuzzy, but he parts his lips as your teeth and tongue abuse the soft flesh. He feels your hands going up his skirt as the muscle violates the back of his throat; palming him through the panties he wore. You pull back, lifting his skirt to see the lace fabric in your grasp; the tip of his cock peaking from it band.

Erin forces a shakey smile. "Like what you see?"

"Thought I was jumping the gun at first, but you were hoping this would happen, weren't you? I figured last week in the cafeteria was to get my attention, but- wow."

"Been trying to catch your eye for a while. Do anything for you at this point."

"Guess I should make it up to you." You bring him over to the couch and dive in for another kiss as you lift his shirt over his chest, stealing those last bits of lip gloss clung to his lips. The initials engraved into over his heart should bother you, but he looks so pretty that you can ignore it for now.

"Freak."

Erin's cock twitches at the insult. You peck his cheek and catch the drool falling from his open mouth before sinking to the floor. You free his length from its restraint, skirt blocking the view.

"Lift up for me."

Erin rolls his skirt up his legs, thighs clenched as you pump his cock. You push them apart with ease and get into position as you take the head of his cock into your mouth. He whines, spreading his legs more rather than trying to close them as you swirl your tongue around his girth. He wants to hold the hand gripping his thighs, but prioritizes keeping his skirt out of your face. Your nails dug into his skin as your mouth closes around him. Whether intentional or not - Erin throws his head back with a drawn out moan.

"Y/n, s-shit, too much- I cant-"

He weakly taps your shoulder, but you pay no mind as you take him down to base. You stare up at him with a look that ties his stomach into knots. Pulling back, his cock shines with your saliva and the gloss you had sucked off his lips minutes ago. The tears in his eyes leave messy, black streaks down his face as you edge him; kissing and slowly rolling your tongue over his cockhead as you lick the drops of pre-cum. His body tenses, knuckles as white as sheets gripping the hem of his skirt. Your nails go over the red marks in his skin once more and he sees white.

"F-fuck..." Erin shutters and moans through his release, shooting his load directly on your tongue as you stroke him through his high and stick it out to catch it all. His cock falls limp against his stockings which you tuck in it as you climb up his body and into his lap. Dazed, he licks his now dry lips and lifts his head signaling for a kiss. You comply, the taste of his release fresh in your mouth as you plant another kiss on his lips. He could hardly care less as he allows you to spit in his mouth right before you tangle your tongue with his. You give him a moment's rest before sinking your teeth into his neck, groping his thighs as you lead his hand to your waist.

"Up for more, pretty boy~"

[zoeykallus]

Hiii Love you are amazing you know that right?🤩🤩

Can I maybe request one with the Reader being a Jedi and traveling with The Batch and she want‘s to learn how to shoot a Blaster and they do teach her but because of mutual attraction it is very hard to focus for both of them. (Maybe even with Rex?)

Aloha!

Didn't I do something similar to this in a way? But it was with a none Jedi fem reader, I think.

It's not exactly what you asked for, because in my head it didn't work out the way I wanted it too, so I played with a few ideaas. But I hope it's close enough.

The Bad Batch/Rex x Fem!Jedi!Reader HCs - Teach Me

Mostly Fluff

_________

Hunter

"We learn to deflect blaster shots," you say, easily deflecting a shot from the training droid, with your lightsaber at a dummy, "But we don't usually learn to do any shooting ourselves."

Hunter offers, "I could show you."

You smile, deflect another shot and say, "That doesn't mean I don't know how to do it"

The sergeant shrugs.

"Then show me what you can do."

You shut down the droid, put away your lightsaber, and walk over to him. With a small smirk, you stand in front of him. In the Force, you can sense that there is a certain excitement beneath his surface, but you can't quite place it at the moment.

"So, Sergeant, what do you want me to do?"

Hunter draws his own blaster and places it in your hand, your fingers touching for a brief moment. The touch feels like a spark, a small electric shock, as if from a static charge. For a second you feel very clearly how intensely Hunter is focused on you, how fast his heart is beating, and your own makes a small, surprising leap.

You need a small moment to collect yourself. You realize that you don't necessarily see him with Jedi eyes, that you see more in him than you should, but until just now you didn't realize it was also the other way around.

You look at the weapon briefly, then open yourself to the Force, turn briefly to the dummies, and fire several quick shots, each shot a bull's-eye.

Looking back at him and seeing the puzzled expression on his face, you ask, "Are you okay?"

"I-yeah, I'm fine. I just thought you never learned how to handle it."

You smirk and remind him, "I also said that doesn't mean I can't."

He nods and says, "Okay, yes I remember, but…. that good?"

"The Force guides my hand. A big advantage on my part," you say, still smirking.

You place the gun back in his hand, again your fingers touch, but this time you maintain contact longer. You take in his feelings, his confusion, how impressed he is, but most of all, the feeling of how much he enjoys this little touch, how much he longs to let his hand move over yours, up your arm to your face. For a moment, you can almost feel him doing it. But Hunter is decent, playing by the rules, even if he doesn't want to here and now. For the moment, it remains a fantasy.

Very slowly, almost languidly, you finally pull your hand back from his. You hear him sigh softly and almost do the same. Your eyes meet, lingering on each other.

With a cautious smile, you ask, "Can you maybe teach me some other things?"

Hunter takes a moment, blinking, finally he smiles gently and says, "I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Wrecker

He watches you, as he often does. You feel his gaze on you, his fascination, his admiration for you are so honest, so open and intense that sometimes your heart beats faster. Wrecker adores you, and you can feel that abundantly clear in the Force. But he's a good soldier, a decent man, he would never approach you without being asked, even if it's hard for him not to confess how much you mean to him by now. You sigh softly, take a deep breath, try to clear your thoughts. "What about blasters?" you suddenly hear him ask. You turn to face him. "Blasters?" Wrecker nods, pulls out his blaster and holds it out to you. You put your lightsaber away, step closer, and hesitantly reach for the weapon. You look at him questioningly, feeling that he's just trying to make contact with you, to spend time with you, and you feel flattered, but also nervous. You shouldn't actually like him as much as you do. "You know how to handle that?" You nod. "Yeah, I think so" You demonstrate your skills and Wrecker lets out an impressed whistle. "Is there anything you Jedi can't do?" You laugh softly and say, "There sure is a lot. For example, I barely know anything about explosives, grenades, and mines." He laughs happily, thumps the crate he was leaning against and says, "You've come to the right place! I can teach you anything" "You would do that?" You can feel Wrecker radiating pure joy, joyful anticipation, and the feeling passes over to you, putting a smile on your lips. "Of course. Little Jedi, I'll be happy to teach you everything I know"

You like it when he calls you that, it's so loving and full of affection.

Echo

He can't hide from you what he feels, even if most of the time you can't see it in any way, you feel the devoted longing he feels when he looks at you, thinks about you, it is omnipresent.

To the outside world no one would suspect it, Echo has himself under control, he is calm, reasonable, follows the rules. You've already caught yourself thinking about trying to draw him out.

During training, when he is watching you again more or less secretly, you speak to him. Echo almost falls off the ramp, startled, when you speak to him. He didn't expect you to have spotted him already.

He clears his throat, "Uh, yeah? How can I help?"

You pick up a training blaster and ask him to come closer.

"Would you teach me how to use this properly?"

Echo blinks, not responding immediately. His gaze drifts from your face to the blaster in your hand and back again. He seems puzzled, but he nods amiably and says, "Sure. What exactly do you want to know?"

"Well, anything important in theory," you say with a wry smile.

A small smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. Echo begins to explain to you how to load and unload the gun, and how to set the various modes, standing close to you, his eyes gazing deeply into yours every now and then. You can feel him looking forward to being useful to you.

"Understood so far?" he finally asks gently.

You nod.

"I think so"

"Maybe you should try it sometime, General".

There it is again, that impersonal word, that formal address. You know he's just doing what's theoretically expected of him, but you wish he'd call you by your name.

"What's the best way to aim?"

Echo stands close behind you, carefully grabs your hand and guides it. He talks, explains, you hear his voice, but the meaning of his words bounces off you, off the feel of his hand on your wrist, his chest against your back.

"General?" he finally asks in amazement.

"Yes?"

"Did you just hear what I said?"

There's a tingle under your skin, you look for an excuse and say as calmly as you can, "I'm sorry, I sensed something in the Force that I can't place, I'm not supposed to let it distract me, but every now, and then it still happens"

"Oh. I see. Do you want me to explain it again?"

You smile, the tingling under your skin getting stronger.

"'Please do."

A soft shiver runs through your body as his hand closes around your wrist again.

Tech

He's a little harder to read than others, his emotional world seems to function differently than you're used to from most. He is often completely silent, and the next moment he is radiating a thousand things. His thoughts are always in motion, and often you feel he can't quite reconcile his emotions with what he's thinking.

Sometimes it feels like he is stumbling, even though he is calm and clear. This happens more often around you. It takes a while, but you eventually realize that Tech is attracted to you, very much so. His way of evaluating and looking at things logically, gets in the way. He feels intensely, but differently. As said before, it's hard to read him, despite the Force.

But his nervousness always comes through quite clearly, noticeable in the Force. Tech stands near the training area, with his datapad in hand. His gaze wanders back and forth between you and the device in his hand.

He admires you, the elegance with which the Jedi fight, especially you. In his head, he automatically calculates how efficient your approach is.

As you finish and approach him, he says, "You were 20 seconds faster today."

You blink in surprise. But really, it shouldn't surprise you. Tech remembers everything, and it's actually typical for him to evaluate everything.

"Is that so?"

He pushes his goggles up the bridge of his nose with one of his, long, slender fingers and replies, "Indeed"

"Do you have any ideas on how I can be even more effective?" you ask with interest.

He looks at you in surprise, not expecting you to be interested in his opinion.

"Quite," he says with a small, barely noticeable smile.

Tech is on fire with the idea. He explains things to you, shows you a few things, touching your hands now and then to show you what he means. At the moment he radiates pure joy, he feels useful can be close to you, you listen to him.

He has a wonderfully lively moment with you, which you both enjoy very much. When you're done, you smile at him, sensing his curious, affectionate feeling for you.

"Maybe you can show me more things when you get a chance," you say softly.

Tech nods, delighted.

"I'd love to, General."

Crosshair

You perceive him as strangely reluctant. He's fascinated by you, in many ways, and at the same time he seems frustrated by it. There is always a restless wavering beneath his surface. He is attracted to you, but is all too aware of the prohibition of this feeling.

But still, he keeps coming to watch you train, and today is no exception.

"Effective," he says tersely, chewing on his toothpick.

"Thanks," you say with an implied smile.

He doesn't smile back; he almost never does.

You tell him with genuine interest, "I'm always amazed at how someone, without access to the Force, can be as effective as you."

Now a smirk does appear on his lips. He is flattered and that you of all people are giving him this compliment triggers a real wave of joy under his surface.

"Hmm, I was bred, trained and genetically programmed for this," he says, shrugging his shoulders as if it's nothing special.

"Still, your reaction time, your focus, your accuracy, are very amazing."

He laughs softly.

"I know."

He takes the toothpick out of his mouth and flicks it away. Then he takes his Firepunsher and holds it out to you.

"You want to try it?"

You blink in surprise and finally say, "I've never fired a gun like that before."

"I can show you," Crosshair offers.

A nervous tingle travels through your body.

"Okay. Teach me," you say with a small, nervous smile.

At first, you're almost overwhelmed, Crosshair seeking a lot of physical contact as he shows you the proper stance and what to do. Every little touch, every graze of his on your skin, leaves you with a hot, wild tingling sensation. You clearly feel that he feels the same way and have difficulty concentrating.

He is intense, you feel his hunger for more, that every touch is not enough for him, only ignites a longing for more. It makes you nervous, but still, you don't withdraw from him, on the contrary. Every contact is a small fire, a camouflaged caress, chaste on the surface but underneath, hungry and intense.

Finally, you stand there, both quite breathless, hearts racing and neither of you can really name why.

He asks, "You didn't understand a word I said, did you?"

"Hmm?"

Crosshair laughs softly and asks, "Again?"

You nod and say softly, "Again".

Rex

"General, if I may interject, you are holding the blaster far too tense".

You glance over your shoulder, you've felt his presence before and you've become nervous. You like Rex, more than you should, much more. Your desire to impress him has thrown you off track, destroyed your focus, and you've tensed up. You sigh softly.

"Of course you're allowed to weigh in, Rex, I always welcome your constructive criticism. I'm just not used to this kind of weapon."

Rex steps closer to you, removes his helmet and places it on a nearby crate. He smiles, a small, very gentle smile. For what feels like the thousandth time, all you can think about is how gorgeous he is.

He gently reaches out a hand to you and asks, "May I?"

His fingers touch yours, and for a moment, your whole body tenses.

"You need to relax a little," he says gently, leaning lightly against you from behind as he tries to loosen your fingers with his.

First you're too tense, then the blaster slips from your fingers. You laugh nervously and say, "Sorry."

"It's okay," Rex says gently, picking up the blaster again, and placing it back in your hand, "Just handle the blaster like you would your lightsaber, fluid but firm in your grip"

"That makes sense"

You get the hang of it, pleased that he is pleased with you, and at the same moment you regret that his lesson is over. However, you sense that he doesn't want to leave yet.

"Could you maybe show me again?" you ask cautiously.

His brows go up at first, but he nods, gets back into position, and gently guides your hand on the blaster. You sense something deep inside him, an affection so real and deep that it almost takes your breath away for a moment.

"Are you all right?" asks Rex with concern as you stiffen again.

You relax your muscles, take a deep breath, and say, "Yes, everything's fine, Rex."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

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[glowinggator]

May I request Wes coming to the realization that he's caught feelings for his coworker/work partner?

A/N: Wow, I am SO sorry that this took so long to post! I'm so in love with what we've seen of Wes, and I was really digging to make sure that I portrayed him as I do in my head. I'd love to write more for him in the future, but in the meantime, I hope you enjoy!

Working under Asa Sweet has its benefits. Seemingly endless stores of money, eternal room and board, and most importantly, all the midnight lovers he could ever want. All at the price of a bit of bootlegged liquor, and the occasional firefight. 

This kind of life isn't for everyone, but it's certainly made for Wes. And you're inclined to agree with him. The adrenaline of a job well-done tastes even better than the liquor you're rewarded with at the end of the day -- maybe that's why the two of you get along so well. He can appreciate someone who can actually do their job, and do it well. No offense to Fish, of course, but it's nice to have someone… competent. And nice to look at, to boot. 

What? He's not blind -- He knows a pretty face when he sees one.  

If you weren't tangled in this life like he was, he might have tried to shoot his shot at a quick fling. But alas, working together complicates that And it's not exactly wise to play with someone when they've always got a loaded gun. He's not stupid, either. So, coworkers it is. Friends, if he's drunk enough to say it out loud.

The two of you are a deadly duo in the field. In the car it's all easy banter, a playful back-and-forth of teasing and sarcastic quips… but when you're truly working? Fish says it's scary how easily the two of you operate on the same wavelength, and you can't blame him. As a team you're able to coax deals and information from unsuspecting lips with ease; and on the rare occasion things go wrong… well, there's rarely any time to even worry. You've made it a game to see who can draw their weapon the fastest when shit hits the fan, and you're not very keen on losing.  And boy, does he like a challenge. 

Wes isn't a romantic. He thinks he is -- he thinks he's the suavest cat this side of the Mississippi. But he isn't. In truth, he is painfully inexperienced in the realm of romance, outside of one night stands. So when he's suddenly clenching his jaw whenever you pull that syrupy, borderline seductive voice on clients to get your way, of course he misattributes his feelings to lust. Because what else would it be? 

Except it doesn't get better, and no amount of liquor can soothe the tightness in his throat when he looks at you. 

No amount of bloodshed can quell his rapidly growing thoughts of domesticity. 

And there's not a single force on earth strong enough to pry the softness from his gaze. 

He hates that you're such a weak spot for him. He's always enjoyed being in your company, but now he finds himself hanging onto every word, every syllable, every breath. It's embarrassing.  

It's a bit of an awkward game of hot and cold while he tries to figure out what he wants. The most Wes really knows about romance is what he gleaned from when Fish drug him out to see Romeo and Juliet, and Lord knows how that panned out. You know him well enough to let him sort through… whatever it is he's going through. 

(You do pick up on the fact that there's a bit more intent when he smacks Fish for the "weasel" comments, though. Fish's poorly hidden laughter doesn't escape your ears either.)

But as time goes on, he settles back into his normal routine with you. Maybe his words get a bit more honeyed. Maybe he gets a bit more sarcastic, so he can feel you swat at him. Maybe he starts winning your quick draw games more often, and maybe he's formed a habit of stepping in front of you when things go south. You can't know for sure -- he dodges every attempt at questioning. 

If he shows up at your doorstep someday, with roses from your front yard… just know that he's trying. 

[elfqueen006]

Running Red

A drabble for @themeatpit37's Slasher!Jack AU ft. my OC May-Rose and "Selene," my name for human Moonpie. Basically, it's a chase scene and I hope I captured the maliciousness of the villainous Jack in this.

Wanted to draw something but summer classes and shit cutting in on my fun. Figured I could scribble this up while it was in my head between free time.

Tw: injury, implied/referenced cannibalism and gore, blood and violence, implied death of character offscreen.

---

He fought like an animal. His head dips low and to the right, surveying her from all angles before taking a running start to pounce at her. May barely makes it out the way when she jumps to the side and scrambles back up, ignoring the throbbing in her left arm. It was still scratched up from his "claws" -- some kind of filed metallic material stuck to otherwise friendly, fluffy fur gloves.

Selene was hiding like she told her. Where, she didn't know, but somehow, she felt that was the best case scenario. 'As long as Jack can't find her.' She thought.

Her thoughts were already mixed up out of focusing on survival and worry for her godchild. She didn't know how long this fight would last. She couldn't find a second of opportunity to look inside any of her ex's compartments for a gun. She recalled in college, Ian said something along the lines of hoping he'd never have to own a gun, and she mentally cursed him to his grave. If he owned a damn gun he wouldn't be dead now.

Then again, could a gun work on this... thing? Not even the chair could keep him down. What could a bullet do against supernatural evil?

Jack's big eyes looked back at her from behind his plastic lion mask. She thought they were a bright brown, but everytime his focus was her alone they were a blood red. He didn't have a problem getting on his feet, languidly rising from the floor to stalk towards her again.

"Oh, lioness," Jack purred, "You can't protect your cub forever."

Her voice impulsively lashed out, "What the hell do you want from her?"

He shrugged, "Lion's gotta eat. It's what we do . Especially when the prides getting a li-i-i-tle too big." he hopped forward a few steps in tune with his words. Mays lips rose in a snarl as she backed up. The masked man snickered, and her anger rose over fear at how easily he made their continued survival into a sick little game. Her protectiveness of Selene and hostility towards him didn't add caution but fueled his "lioness" image of her.

Something else then clicked for May -- Jack ...Joseph... whoever he was. Is not a man, nor some freak in a mask, but a caricature of his former self. Someone who's abandoned humanity and empathy for carnal desire. A mascot for terror and evil, one he assumed with glee.

May wasn't sure how she could win against something like this... but she had to try.

She turned and fucking ran. There was no direction she was going with other than away from the predator. The click of nails followed close behind. He was probably running after her on all fours - the freak.

Ian didn't have much in his living area, but whatever May could find, she threw. She threw a small alarm clock and missed. She threw a lamp that he took like a fucking pro. And in her growing frustration she took the wooden stand by the couch and swung it down with surprising force. He cried out as it hit him over his shoulder, making him stumble backward. May didn't wait for him to regain balance.

Reaching over for a glass trinket on Ian's TV shelf, she flung it toward him. It crashed into his chest and she grinned, truly vindicated when he made a pained "Augh! "

As she turned to run, Jack winced, running his hand over his broad chest. Some glass had been lodged in the skin. He clenched his teeth as he pulled it one out with his claws, then two, and three. There were some tinier shards that just couldn't be grasped, making his skin quiver in discomfort. Then his attention was drawn to the familiar and yet jarring red liquid blooming from the cuts on his skin. They came as little droplets before trickling down over the fabric of his shirt.

Experimentally, he swiped a thumb over the blood and tasted it fresh off the fabric... the same. And yet, different. How could he pin that? It was almost the same as touching yourself. You didn't know why it felt different with other people, it just did. And just like an orgasm, you know it's coming, but with others you don't know how. That was part of the fun for him. Finding out different ways to make them bleed. Every wound, every cut, every bruise would open and send him up a fountain of gushing red gold. His reward for playing a different strategy with each kill.

He knew he bled, but it was rare someone showed him how. It was exhilarating.

[angeart]

// CW - cannibal scar, forest (the game)

Branches catch at Grian’s clothes and tree roots and jutted rocks try to trip him up as he tries to escape the mutants hot on his tail. His weapon is out of ammo, his tools broken, he has nothing to defend himself with. His arm is bleeding, his lungs are burning with the lack of oxygen—he doesn’t know how long he’s been running, and he isn’t even sure if he’s running in the right direction. The forest looks all the same, everywhere, but he’s sure this is the way to the camp.

He hopes it is. Because if it isn’t, he’s in trouble.

He stumbles through the brambles into a clearing, and for a second, his mind scrambles in panic as he realises he doesn’t recognise this place.

And then something else throws him off.

He stands rooted to the spot, taking big, burning gulps of air, panic thudding violently against the pulse point in his neck, as he stares at a familiar figure in front of him.

There’s a man, crouched over a dead body. His green eyes shine intensely as they meet Grian’s gaze.

”Scar?” Grian asks in a wobbly voice.

There’s a rush behind him, and before he can process anything else, he stumbles further away from the forest in his panic, swirling around to face the enemies. They groan and reach for him, and he pats his clothes looking for a weapon, knowing he has none.

Scar brushes silently past him, takes a step in front of him, and shoots.

They go down without a fight.

Grian tries to catch his breath, staring at Scar’s back. He tries to slot it into his mind that he’s safe now, he’s with his ally, they’re going to be okay, they can make their way back to the camp together.

That is, until Scar turns around and jovially grins at Grian. “Well, hello there,” he greets in his usual way, all cheer and nonchalance. “Didn’t expect you here.”

Grian stares, perplexed, at the blood smeared around Scar’s lips.

The blood colouring his teeth red.

“Scar…?” he says again, his voice cracking. His heart hammers an unsteady rhythm in his chest as he tries to rationalise this, figure out what is going on.

He ends up tearing his gaze away from Scar’s grin to what is now behind him. The body of a cannibal, lying in the mud, torn apart by—

Grian’s mind spins.

Those aren’t wounds from blades.

What he sees is skin and flesh ripped off by teeth.

He whirls around to look back at Scar, takes in the blood around his mouth, and everything in him short circuits.

He’s dizzy. He refuses to comprehend this. He’s—

This is—

Darkness draws around him as his lungs continue to burn.

Scar catches him then and slowly lowers him to the ground. “You’re okay, G, I killed them,” he reassures him.

“But,” Grian stammers, looking over at the dead cannibal in the middle of the clearing.

Scar steps in front of him to block his view. “Mmh?” he prompts innocently.

“What,” Grian starts, his gaze blank before he manages to refocus on Scar. “What were you doing here?”

“Oh, nothing really,” Scar replies easily. “Hunting dinner.”

Grian’s too high on adrenaline to really comprehend the subtleties of that statement given the context. His mind swirls and he lets it drop and fall through the cracks, relieved enough to not be alone, to not be defenceless and lost anymore.

He just accepts it and they move on, never bringing it up again.

It’s only a week later when Scar pulls out his gun on Grian.

Grian isn’t even aware of it at first. He’s sorting through the inventory, putting away the loot and taking stock of everything, when he hears a loud grumble of Scar’s stomach.

“Scar, you need to eat,” he remarks distractedly. “You’re starving.”

He thinks back to their dinner the previous evening, in their camp. How Scar didn’t join them back then. He lets his hands rummage through the collected goods, looking for granola bars to offer to Scar in case he doesn’t have any snacks on him to tide him over.

“I’ve got food,” Scar reassures him breezily. “I’ve got food, I’ve got food,” he repeats, chuckling a little under his breath.

There’s the smallest of sounds then. A click.

A click of a gun.

Grian’s hands freeze over his inventory.

“Scar?” he asks cautiously as he turns to look over his shoulder.

He doesn’t get to turn around fully. Before he can see Scar behind him, a loud noise echoes through the surroundings, explosive and vicious, and Grian is blinded by a hot-white pain through his shoulder.

“Just stay still,” Scar murmurs almost soothingly, a dark edge of a grin carrying over to his voice.

Adrenaline shoots through Grian’s veins, translates into panic. His first thought is that they’re being attacked, but nobody ever shoots at them, and—

The awareness of Scar’s laughter filters into his head as he presses his hand against the bleeding wound. He can’t comprehend it, but he knows he needs to get away from the threat, so he spins around and stumblingly gets to his feet and breaks into a run.

Another shot rings through the forest, rumbling everything around in a splintering echo. “Noo, get back here!” Scar yells after him, and he sounds a little bit startled, but mostly amused. He shoots again.

[rmorde]

Trigun Manga Reaction

Here we go! Chapter 8 Volume... Huh?

Voulme 2? I thought this is still Volume 1. Am I tripping?

Anyway! Just a moment of appreciation for this parody page of he cover.

This while thing is so "busy" yet it still make sense. There's so many elements layering on top of each other. It should be a confusing mess. However, I can still easily pick out the four components that tells a story.

Component 1: Vash as a happy salary man being served a drink by a geisha (judging from the hairstyle and accessory) with shadowed eyes on the opposite end of the page.

Component 2: BDN at the dead center. The text makes it a bit difficult to confirm if he has a top knot, but he definitely is rocking a traditional Japanese look. He looks menacingly at Vash as he drinks.

Component 3: Meryl and Milly running in a hurry but for two clearly different purposes. Meryl looks like a traditional restaurant staff frantically trying to serve a lot of guests. Meanwhile, Milly doesn't look she's working anywhere near the food service industry with her get up and the tool that she has on hand.

Component 4: The Bad Lads drinking in celebration while an ambulance seems to be sounding its sirens as it parked near them.

Look. I may seem to be too obsessed with this gag page but it's crazy how its a fucking busy mess that still works at telling a cohesive story!

With just this two page drawing, I can infer easily that someone is in danger and may need to be hospitalized - so the ambulance was called and asked to stand by. Milly is probably the heroine about to save the day with the overworked yet eager to help Meryl. The party the Bad Lads are having is a big distraction at a possible murder attempt starring Vash as the victim, the geisha as the accomplice, and BDN as the mastermind.

I'M SORRY BUT HOW THE FUCK?!!!

And don't get me started on the scaling of each figure and the silhouettes. Just... I'll just repeat, Nightow is amazing for how pretty AND technical his drawing is. It's so clean. Wow...

Sorry for getting derailed. So, back to the chapter.

Ok. I lied. Let me just appreciate Winter Mery and Milly here. I love them so much and they so fucking cute here with their dynamic pose... solid silhouette... Clean fucking lines... Sorry... Give me a minute!!!

Sigh~

Interesting. So, '98 rearranged the sequence of events here. This happened a bit later... which I think is better. It adds more impact on Vash's duel against BDN.

These guys are no stormtrooper shooters. They having really good aim!

They didn't hit Vash. Okay. Maybe the tails of his coat now have fresh bullet holes, but aside from that, Vash is fairly intact. The Bad Lads have great accuracy.

This is an intriguing way of drawing a spinning gun. It's simple but effective in visually communicating that that is what BDN is doing. A good choice. Thinking about it... If three twirling guns in a blur of circles were drawn, it would be too distracting and BDN will be overwhelmed in the panel.

Cool foreshortening. Incredible detail on the filigree. And a bonus Goofy Face Vash!

So so fucking glad '98 was faithful to the manga with these scenes. Meryl and Milly were such badasses here.

Huh... Well that's a huge difference. There's not much:

GASP! It'S VaSH tHe STampeDE!

vASh ThE StAMpEdE?!

VASH THE STAMPEDE!!!

It can get a bit much... sometimes in '98. So, this is refreshing.

WHAT...

WHAT THE FLYING FUCK?!!!

So, those lines by Miss Purple Avenger from the filler episode were originally from BRILLIANT DYNAMITES NEON?!

I-

Oooohhh.... Pretty art... Wait no... I can't distracted. I'm mad!

I'M VERY VERY MAD!!!

OML! This is much more intense! IT ADDS SO MUCH WEIGHT TO THE DUEL!

Oh my goodness... This nuance... WHY WAS THIS CHANGED?!

Not to say that Miss Purple Avenger and the episode featuring her was bad. It was actually great! Her version of July was nightmare inducing... and her confrontation with Vash was truly tragic too but.... Uhm...uh... AAHHHH!!!! I CAN'T CHOOSE! THEY'RE BOTH GOOD!

Oh... break my heart into fucking pieces will you huh?!

LOOK AT THESE! Manga Vash getting cheered on by the people! People were supporting him! He is being treated nicely as he deserved.

Even in '98! It was not as overt at this page. However, that scene of the captain from the beginning of this chapter replaced these panels instead and is just as effective. '98 Vash has people believing the good in him.

TRISTAMP VASH WAS ROBBED!!! HE NEVER HAD THESE!!! That poor precious boy! The few precious people who supports him only showed up near the end... and... and...

Now getting even more upset again with the Jeonora Episodes in Tristamp!

It's so not fair!

Oooh. A cinematic page!

HOLY SHIT!!! THESE PAGES ARE AMAZING!

I can't believe this. This fight is better in the manga!

I am not dissing Studio Madhouse for what they've done tho. The '98 Duel was epic too! They did great! But all these crazy angles and perspectives in the manga just elevate the overall awesomeness of the gunfight. It's just more immersive.

Tbf to the '98 anime, this is a nightmare to animate faithfully. With the technology and techniques at the time, this would be so difficult to pull off beautifully - going topsy turvy in one smooth motion for two characters at the same time in a fight scene with a complicated moving background? Yeah... The animation staff would go insane. It's totally understandable that they simplified this duel into extreme close ups and strong facial + gun drawings instead.

I hope Studio Orange re-hashes this fight in some way tho... or does the Episode 1 duel count?

Sigh... With the my discovery that Miss Purple Avenger's lines were actually BDN's, and that the outrage towards Vash for not remembering anything about July belongs to the Bad Lads', these words have become so much more meaningful.

It's also now more effective at convincing me that Brilliant Dynamites Neon have hidden depths.

Oh... Ow... The detailing here is just ow for the hands of an artist. Perhaps I overreacting, but those fine lines in the crooks and crannies make me wince.

Once again tag responses:

@revenantghost

Yeah. The more I see his work, the more I'm awed by his skills. That's a cool detail that his design incorporate realism. I thought the glasses are for the light tho? But maybe it's like those the Olympian gunners wore during the competition?

The dead REALLY haunting the narrative? Looking forward to it!

@takeshidude

Ok. Monthly publication are still grueling but at least its not as nightmarish with weekly mangakas. No wonder the quality is consistent with the art. Nightow was allowed to breathe.

You make a good point. '98 did have a bit of a mystery woven into it. We know Vash the Stampede - we follow his misadventures and people kept saying who he is ad nauseam in every episode. However, we don't really know know him for quite a long time. It's a different, but no less interesting, spin to the story.

Which kinda explains I'm misremembering some scenes and characterizations? The last third of '98 made a long lasting impression that I kinda forgot about Vash's horn dogginess.

[violet-fire-cat]

👀

Hehe I'm so glad I got sent a few of these! I'm gonna have fun rambling about aus now! Lots of rambling. I'm not kidding. This one at least is uh- long. Oops.

As I said before, a lot of my AUs are Ethubs focused, but hopefully you guys don't mind that! 😅

Soooo, let's see, which one should I start with, hmmmmmm. Let's go with one I was talking about with a friend a lot a few weeks ago!

And that would be -

Assassin Creed AU 🗡️ Well- it's inspired by Assassin's Creed anyway. I am not well versed enough on the series lore to do anything that sticks to it too closely. I wanted to play around with ideas a bit anyway. But I started playing one of the games again a while ago and that's where the ideas came from.

Assassin AUs have been done before, yes. But this one is mine!

Etho is an assassin, somewhere in the 18th/19th century, and has been with the Assassin's Brotherhood for most of his life. He's very good at what he does. He's smart, quick, and stealthy. Like a ghost with a knife. You won't know he's there until his blade has found it's way into your throat.

The Brotherhood consists of various other Hermits, including; Doc - retired assassin now serving as the groups main medic Tango - his targets often go out with a bang. or with fire. Grian - death from above Cleo - master of poisons and deadly concoctions Impulse - weaponsmith, where you go for a new knife or gun Zedaph - creator of gadgets and nifty tools and Mumbo - the spymaster. Kinda. Not really. Far too squeamish for assassin work. So he handles information gathering, sorting out jobs and targets, etc

They work together to take out criminals and other bad people who are causing issues in the area. As well as probably aiming to solve some sort of ancient mystery like in the games. (Though I haven't figured that part out yet.)

The story is mostly focused on Etho, a lot of what I have is about his and Bdubs' relationship too, but there's other stuff as well. Rambling continues under the cut ~

Etho doesn't interact with civillians much. But then he meets Bdubs. Bdubs is not affiliated with the Brotherhood. He's a craftsman. He works with wood, leather, and sometimes metal, making tools and clothes mostly, but weaopns too, and selling them in his little shop. Etho goes there on a whim looking for quick repairs or a replacement.

Bdubs is a pretty ordinary guy just going about his life. He has no idea what's in store for him when he meets Etho that day.

Etho is- odd. Tall and mysterious, and dressed in strange clothes. Bdubs doesn't know what to make of him. But treats him like any other customer. He does what's asked of him, Etho pays well. And he finds himself with a regular visitor.

Etho isn't entirely sure why he keeps going back there. He knows other people with the same skillset that he could go to instead. But there's something about Bdubs... There's something drawing Etho to him in a way he's never really experienced before.

Gradually, they become friends. And with time, that friendship progresses. Etho slowly falls in love with Bdubs, and realises that he's so screwed. He's never been in love before. And these- these- emotions. Are not easy to deal with! He doesn't know how to handle Bdubs being so gentle with him, so kind and smiling so sweetly.

And. Yeah. Things develop. A very touch starved Etho craves the gentleness and kindness that Bdubs gives him so easily. Etho has friends, sure, but this is different. Someone detatched from the violence of his work. Someone willing to care for him and love him despite all that he is. It's like nothing he's ever experienced before.

Bdubs never expected to get tangled up with someone like Etho. Danger surrounds him. Etho could leave one day and just. Never come back. But behind all that. Behind the layers of Trained Killer. There's a sweet, slightly shy guy that Bdubs can't help but love.

It's not all plain sailing though. No no. There's drama and chaos too of course. The nature of Etho's work kind of requires it. One time Etho returns to base badly hurt, and in a state of 'I thought I was going to die and all I wanted was to see you again,' he's asking Doc, who's looking after him, for Bdubs. Another time, Bdubs gets captured by the bad guys and Etho and the other assassin's have to rescue him. There's heartbreak as events leave Etho thinking that Bdubs doesn't want to see him anymore. And the difficulty of tracking down an assassin who doesn't want to be found. Etho becomes over protective at times, which Bdubs isn't fond of. But panic ensues when that protectiveness leads to Etho hurting Bdubs accidentally. Bdubs doesn't know what to think of seeing Etho kill someone. Knowing it happens is one thing, actually seeing it happen is another.

There's ups and downs, and I want there to be some overarching mission that Etho and the rest of the Assassin's are working towards. But I don't know what that is yet. I need to brainstorm and play the games more I think.

However, meanwhile, in the present day. Another young man, funnily enough also known as 'Etho', has somehow gotten himself roped into an investigation being done on his ansestor. A- distant cousin. Or something. He thinks. But the guy was an assassin. Which is cool. Fancy technology he'd never heard of allows him to relive the 'genetic memories' of the assassin. See what he experienced and learn about his life. About the things he did, the people he knew, and the events he was a part of. Hoping it'll help them find answers to something that's going on now.

This Etho, nerdy computer science graduate Etho, is very confused but overall rather fascinated by it all. Though he realises quickly there's a lot more at stake here than facts and figures about centuries old history. He learns a lot about his assassin ancestor and the life he lived. Maybe... Maybe too much. He's not sure that he wanted to know about the more- private parts of the guys life. It's interesting that the man the assassin was in love with looked a lot like one of the technicians working on this investigation, though. It's probably just a coincidence. The odds of it being anything else are far, far too small. But he is rather handsome, so surely you can't blame Etho for having a bit of a crush on him...

And- I am going to stop there or I could ramble all night dfghj. I love this AU a lot, if you couldn't tell. I'm probably forgetting things, but this is already more than enough to get an idea of how things go! There's assassins! And drama! And romance! And it's so much fun!

Thank you Anon for giving me an excuse to ramble endlessly about my AU! If you want to ask more about this au though then please do! Aaand maybe I'll draw something for it at some point too, I've been wanting to for a while hehe!

[whohasthecards]

Top Gun Medieval Fantasy AU Idea

IceMav operating an adventure guild/inn/tavern. Iceman is the head of the guild and Maverick is his right-hand man. Ice and Mav co-own the establishment. Most people don't know this, they just assume that Mav is pretty high up, because he's one of the top adventurers, and when he's not out and about, he trains or guides the newer adventurers (Mav does the dirty work Ice can't visibly do).

Potential additional idea: Iceman and Maverick used to knights, but stop and established a guild.

Rooster is a traveling warrior, but he is not part of the guild. He goes their only when it is necessary for a job, but he doesn't linger or stay. Bradley wanted to be a knight, but Mav used his connections to block his application to the academy. Bradley found out and left, cutting contact and went to find his way. Bradley was bitter, thinking, it all makes sense. Why Mav was reluctant in training him, only got involved in his training when he was older, and why it was mostly Ice who taught him. Mav never thought he could do it, he never had faith in his abilities. (Goose was Mav's partner and died in one of their adventures. Mav couldn't bear the thought that if he taught Bradley, and Bradley died, it would be because of the skills he passed down to him. Because Mav's skills at the time wasn't enough to save Goose, so it is not good enough for Bradley. Also Carole made Mav promise before she died.) On a side note, during his travels, Rooster picked up playing different instruments and is quite good at it. He's trying to remember the song his dad used to play him, but it's been so long that he can only really play the tune of the chorus. The lines lost in time (part of Rooster wants to ask Ice or Mav, but his pride won't allow him to). On the bright side, Rooster displays himself as a bard, allowing him to gather money and information easily as no one is suspicious of him. At least until he draws his hidden sword.

Hangman was raised to be a knight, he was taken in as a ward of a Knight's order, went through the academy, and was knighted young. He was well-known and people admired him. However, one day he and his partner were dispatched far to deal with a horde of demons. He and his partner figured out that there was corruption in the order that spread to the town folk, allowing for exploitation, which grew to warriors being hired despite barely having any fighting experience. The problem grew, until the town was overwhelmed by monsters every night. In the final battle, his partner died. When Hangman went to report what happened, the order decided to push the incident 'under the rug', with his partner's death being declared as an 'accident'. The order's reputation was far more important than the life of one man. Hangman was pissed and left the order, swearing revenge (and succeeding). Hangman still keeps the sword he used as a knight, but he never unsheathes it. Instead he transitioned to dual wielding two short swords. Hangman works alone, travelling and doing mercenary work. He doesn't care about anything else, but results. No one knows that Hangman used to be a knight.

Javy is from a blacksmith clan, realized that blacksmithing wasn't for him and decided to go on a journey. Found this creature, nursed it to help, and now follows him around. Someone eventually suggested that he use the creature as a mount. He did and he fell in love with it. He became well-trained in fighting while on his mount. Easily maneuvering any weapon while the mount charges. Coming from a family of blacksmiths, he understood how to use most weapons and that came handy in times of improvisation.

He became friends with Jake when they were travelling. They were forced to share a room together in an inn rather than camp outside and they got to know one another (Jake was sharpening his sword, Javy told him he was doing it wrong, they bickered, Javy impressed Jake and wrangled a thank you out of him). They keep on meeting each other throughout the next year or so, Jake even allowing Javy to work with him occasionally. After more than a year, Jake told Javy everything, Javy was heartbroken for his friend.

I have more thoughts about this AU, but maybe I'll write them down sometime else.

[indigosunsetao3]

A Reason To Try

Chapter 13 - Escape Plan

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Please read the tags on AO3 for any of your triggers

Alex Keller X Original FMC 6.0k words - AO3 Link

Madeline had been in the midst of pulling on a pair of boots when she heard the sound of an approaching car. She shot up from where she had been sitting and went to one of the bedroom windows to peer out, careful to stay off to the side. The gauzy curtains shielded her enough from being seen, but she could easily see the car, cars, pulling in. There were at least three of them, and they were driving slowly surveying the area. Her eyes instantly cut to the bowls that she had left on the fire escape overnight, and she debated how fast she could open the windows and pull them in before they saw. She decided against it as they drew closer; movement would draw their eye, but a few errant items may not.

“Madeline,” Alex called, his voice even lower than usual as he watched two vehicles park by the construction trailer. “How many do you have?”

“Three,” Madeline answered as she walked out to the living room, feeling her body already beginning to tense up with fear. “Why? Are there more?” She asked as Alex remained stock still, staring out the window.

“Two,” he answered simply as he continued to watch. Two men climbed out of a beat-up truck, guns raised, looking around the area as their companions climbed out of their car, also armed. “Armed,” he continued as Madeline walked up to his side to look out as well, pressing herself up to his side to look out the small gap he made in the curtain with his fingers.

“I didn’t stay long enough to see if they were armed,” Madeline answered as she gripped the windowsill, watching as the men used the hole in the fence Alex had made to get into the construction area.  “What do we do?” Madeline asked after a second of watching. One of the men was barely a man at all, a gangly teenager who held his shotgun like he had never seen one before, let alone used one.

“We watch,” Alex said quietly as he flicked his eyes down to her. He brought his free hand up to her lower back, carefully pressing his hand there as a form of reassurance. He could feel how nervous she had become, everything rigid as she stared out the window and her breathing tight. “And we prepare. Start gathering what you want to take and put it in easy-to-move containers. Fill the duffels, backpacks, and anything easy to carry. Keep it as quiet as possible.”

Madeline leaned into the touch before jumping as a car door slammed, and muffled voices could be heard yelling at one another.  When Alex flexed his fingers in response to the noise, she knew he was thinking exactly what she was; they were going to draw those things. In all the time they had been there, nothing had shown up, not even a noise in the distance to indicate they were around. But Alex had still kept quiet outside, was still careful as he worked, watching over his shoulder, and never letting himself get too distracted. She had watched him stop what he was doing on countless occasions to listen. Yet these people were loudly yelling at one another, opening and closing doors without worry, and making a ton of noise rattling the fence.

“They’re too loud,” Madeline finally whispered as someone, another younger-looking guy, began messing with the generator, hitting it a few times because it wouldn’t start. Alex had siphoned it the day before so it just whirred then whined and died. “They’re going to draw them,” she breathed.

“We’ll keep an eye on it,” Alex answered, his voice a bit distracted as he watched two men enter the trailer. They went in guns raised but hardly looked like they were properly trained on how to clear, which meant they’d be jumpy. “If they show up, we’ll figure out the next steps, but for now, let’s keep it one thing at a time.”

Madeline nodded once before stepping out of his grasp. If they needed to get ready, she needed to move now. Most of their items were in the living room and kitchen, respectively, but she still had clothes and items in the bedroom, and she knew Alex had some of his own things in the room he had taken.

She went to her room first and carefully threw things onto the bed: clothes, hygiene items, and a second set of heavy-duty sneakers. Living in a constant state of traveling, Madeline had learned how to pack and make the most out of little space, so she began folding. She rolled undergarments into tight balls and shoved them into her spare sneakers, stuck hygiene items inside rolled-up pants, shoved odd-shaped items into the side nets of the backpack and filled any gaps with shirts. The pack was stuffed to the brim and hard as a rock by the time she finished but she had managed to get everything she wanted to take in it and then some.

Alex kept his vigil at the window, ears strained for any noises getting too close to their condo or for those things. Luckily, the things shrieked and snarled, so their sneaking up wasn’t really a fear, and in the open area, their sounds would travel. So far, nothing. He also listened to Madeline’s quiet shuffling and the soft footfalls as she showed up in the living room with two bags so tightly packed that they made a thump as she dropped them onto the couch. She stood up and pushed some sweaty hair off her forehead, evidence of her hustling, before giving him a tight smile and heading to the kitchen.

All the work she had spent neatly dividing and packing up the items seemed null, though having her notes on them did make it a little easier. She was able to find easy-to-eat foods, ones that weren’t too heavy but had more nutrition. She dragged her old duffel onto the floor next to her and started filling it, dispersing the weight between it and another bag with the water and food. She and Alex would each have to lug one, and she grunted a bit as she lifted one onto her shoulder, then the other, before stumbling to the couch to drop them.

“We need to get to the roof,” Alex said suddenly as he spotted the group headed toward the condo. They were moving to begin raiding the condos, as he expected, but he knew what they would find. He had already gone through them and picked them clean. He hadn’t been meticulous in his movements because there was no need to cover his tracks inside the building. They just needed to keep up appearances on the outside for people driving by. But if they started going condo to condo to find them turned over and empty, they’d be upstairs to them fairly quickly.  

“The roof?” Madeline asked, a bit winded as she heard the people getting closer, their voices echoing in the open stairwell between the condos as they talked. They were discussing how to split up, what to look for, and what to take. And to shoot first and ask questions later. Apparently, it didn’t take long for some people to lose their humanity.  “Why not the cars? We can just-“ she flinched as a loud bang followed by a grunt, and another loud bang met her ears. They were kicking in the doors and calling out taunts to the potential people inside.

“We won’t make it to the cars without them seeing,” Alex answered, “they’ll be up here soon. We need to look like we’ve left.”. He pushed off the window he was at and started gathering up the laptop and phone along with some other spare wires. There was another bang as he shoved the electronics into a duffel with the food before snatching up his notebook and the bag of keys of the shortlisted cars. The last thing he did was bend under the couch and dig out a small reusable grocery bag, one Madeline hadn’t seen before. He packed it as well, zipping up the duffel one-handed.

“The door?” Madeline asked as Alex grunted, throwing the straps of both duffels over his shoulder. The loveseat was still shoved against the door, and he turned to look at it.

“Leave it, they’ll hear us move it,” Alex answered as he ducked his head to slip the M16 strap over his head. “Can you just get the bags?” He slipped the safety off his gun and held one backpack by the strap out to her.

“I-yes,” Madeline answered as she stared at him. The bags of food had to be at least fifty pounds each, and he was holding them ease, along with his gun, which she knew was also heavy. Not to mention all the extra items he had shoved into the duffels at the last moment. She crossed the space to him quickly, and he motioned for her to turn around so he could slip the straps over her shoulders before she picked up the other one to carry by hand. She opened her mouth to inquire what car they were going to take when she heard an angry yell.

“They’ve figured out there’s nothing in those condos,” Alex supplied calmly as he stared at the door.  His heart rate had kicked up a few notches, but he still remained calm. These were civilians, not trained soldiers. So, while they would be trigger-happy, they were sloppy, and he could outdo them. It was just a matter of how many he could take on at a time. “Come on, they’re going to kick in every door they can find.” And no sooner did he say that, they could hear them beating at a door seemingly just a floor below them.

Madeline followed him back to the bedroom, her eyes doing one last sweep of the area before following Alex out onto the fire escape. They moved slowly in an attempt to be quiet, but every movement, each creak, sounded like a gunshot to her ears. She curled her lips into her mouth as she gingerly lowered the window back down, praying her fingers didn’t slip in the water on the glass. When it was in place, she stooped to pick up the bowls, carefully stacking them into one another before going up the stairs.

The roof was soaking, with puddles of water all over, and Alex pointed for Madeline to go to the far corner behind some HVAC units. He wanted them to be as far away from the fire escape as possible because if they couldn’t get into the condo by the front door, they could figure out the fire escape route and go up that way.

Madeline was still quiet with her steps as she walked on the roof, her feet splashing in the standing water as she panted at the extra weight on her back and in her hands. The air wasn’t frozen, but it was still chilled, and the wind that whipped around felt like it was going right through her jacket. When she got to the units, she crept around the side, half bent over, before crouching down fully so she couldn’t be seen over the roof edge. It was soaked over here, too, but they had nowhere else to go, and she eased the backpack onto the driest-looking spot next to the roof wall.

“Good?” Alex asked as he finally joined her, losing the duffel straps from his shoulders to the ground and rolling his neck a bit. When Madeline nodded her reply, eyes wide and skin a few shades paler, he gave her a small smile before sitting next to her on the roof. The water instantly soaked through his pants, and he sighed in discomfort before tensing. The group had made it to their condo. He could hear them smashing at the door, yelling at one another, and then the sound of gunshots. They had resorted to shooting at the door to get it open.

“Alex,” Madeline whispered as she gripped his forearm, flinching at each shot and yell. They weren’t even trying to be civil anymore. Each blast of the shotgun made her wince, and Alex rolled his arm over slowly and extended his hand out to her to grab. She did it gratefully as he sat listening, eyes trained toward the fire escape.

“We’re okay,” Alex stated reassuringly before he leaned forward, grabbed a duffel, and unzipped it a bit before sitting back with a few keys in his hand. “Each of these cars is fully stocked,” he explained as he shoved a few key fobs at her. There was a small post-it note wrapped around the keyring, and Madeline peered at the writing. It was the color of the car and a few numbers or letters from the license plates. “If we need to run, go to any of them,” he explained, and he saw her open her mouth to fight. “I gave us plenty of options on purpose. We can’t plan for everything, but I did my best,” he grinned slightly.

“You’re keeping some, right?” She asked as she fingered one of the loops of an actual set of keys instead of a fob. An older car, she was guessing.

“Yes, there are still some in there,” Alex said with a nod as he tapped the duffle with his foot. “All of them are viable options. So, pick your favorite,” he smirked as she mulled over the logos on the keys in her hands.

Then they heard the rattle of the metal fire escape.

Alex gently untangled his fingers from hers and pushed up on his knees, slipping the gun strap over his head and setting it gently to rest on his thighs. He could hear multiple sets of footsteps on the fire escape, the metal rattling as they clamored up, and a few voices talking. He cut his eyes to Madeline, who shrank down even further against the wall, and he indicated for her to be quiet, to which she nodded. If they could just stay tucked down in this far corner, hopefully, these people were in too much of a rush or inept to do a clean wipe of the area. Then, once they left, he and Madeline could wait it out a few hours before escaping.

Madeline shoved the keys into her pockets as she stared at Alex’s back and listened. It sounded like three or four men walking on the roof, all of them chatting casually and laughing at what they had found. One of them commented that it was obvious a woman had been in the condo, and she shut her eyes at the crude remarks they made about her from the dirty clothes they had found. Alex inhaled a sharp breath through his nose in indignation as he adjusted to reach into his vest and dig out a knife. Madeline stared at him and shook her head once, but Alex slowly shifted the gun off his lap and gently set it down on the rooftop.

They were too close for shooting, too many of them, and the more noise he made, the more people he’d draw. There were four of them, and as he quickly checked around the edge before pulling back, he saw two of them were teens who looked like they hadn’t seen anything more than a schoolyard fight. If push came to shove, he could disarm and take them out, but then they’d have to move before the rest of their companions realized they were missing. He carefully nudged the gun toward Madeline in a sign for her to take it, but she shook her head at him again.

“Take it,” Alex hissed as he flipped the knife in his hand, letting the weight settle in his palm. He nodded pointedly at the gun as if to indicate they were done talking about this, and he watched Madeline reach for it. When her fingers closed around the butt of it, he leaned his back against the HVAC as he shut his eyes to listen to their steps. They were getting closer, spread out a bit but still in a relative semblance of a group. He’d have to move quickly, aim for the biggest guy first, and pray that he was leading the way.

Alex took a deep breath, then another, body bent in a crouch, preparing for the best moment to strike. The toe of a boot came into his view, and as he was about to slip out from behind the corner, a loud blaring horn cut through the silence. He flinched and stayed crouched, looking over at Madeline as the men cursed, obviously just as startled as he had been.  

Madeline prayed that whichever alarm she had set off was one of the cars that was further away. She had reached into her pocket blindly and hit the alarm on the first fob she wrapped her fingers around. Alex was good, but it was four against one, and he was planning on just going into the fight with a knife; she couldn’t risk that. He snapped his eyes to her in silent reproach, but she didn’t care; what she had done had the desired effect. The men had halted in their steps and quickly turned around and jogged back to the fire escape to find the source of the noise. They were cursing as they ambled toward the metal steps, and Madeline gave Alex a small smile.

“What happened to being quiet?” Alex asked as he scrambled toward Madeline, shoving the knife into its slot on his vest as he picked the gun back up.

“You have your methods. I have mine,” Madeline answered with a shrug as she turned the key fob over in her hands. “I hope this wasn’t one you really wanted to take,” she said as she peered at the logo, a Toyota.

“I was more partial to the Ford,” Alex deadpanned. “I think you can cut it before we bring more friends.”

Madeline turned the alarm off so only a ringing silence met their ears. She pocketed the key fob again and shifted in her crouch to fall back on her bottom, water seeping into her skin. The men shouted at one another from the windows and parking lot, trying to figure out what had set off the car.

“How long do we wait? Madeline asked quietly as she leaned her head back on the wall.

“Until they leave or nightfall, whichever comes first,” Alex answered as he peered at the watch on his wrist. It reflected the current time they were in as well as the time in Uzikstan on a smaller face. The pang in his gut at the thought of that made him drop his wrist.

“Nightfall? It’s barely nine,” Madeline groaned as she shifted her hips a bit. She was going to be stiff if they sat there all day.

They fell silent for a bit, listening to the rummaging and things being tossed around inside the condo just below their feet. Alex was sure they were dragging all his hard-won things out the door in the nice totes Madeline had packed for them. It was frustrating that all of it went to waste, but he’d rather have them focus on that instead of trying to find them. As much as he hated to admit it, her trick with the car had been a saving grace; if their group had realized too quickly that their friends hadn’t returned, it would have been an all-out brawl.

“So, is this like a reverse stakeout? We’re the suspects having to wait out the CIA?” Madeline asked after long minutes, nudging him with her shoulder.

“People always think stakeouts are these glamorous things,” Alex answered with a chuckle. “It’s mostly just this. Sitting and waiting for the target to move. I’ve had to lie on a roof for almost a full day just watching a building more times than I can count.”

“I blame Hollywood,” Madeline answered. “They always made it look fun. Junk food, witty banter,” she sighed wistfully, “longing stares between the partners that refuse to acknowledge the tension. Then, in the next scene, they jump one another in the backseat.” She laughed a bit, trying to ease some of her own fear now that they had a moment of rest with the men off the roof and well away from them.

“I can tell you that the witty banter dies pretty quickly, and it’s mostly silence with the occasional check-in and cussing at how bored you are,” Alex answered. “And your partner is usually just as grumpy and probably hasn’t showered in about a week. No one wants to jump anyone in that state.”

Madeline laughed before bending her knees to wrap her arms around them. “I suppose. I like the fake version better,” she confessed as they both heard glass shattering. It seemed that these people were just destroying things to destroy them. “Less dangerous.”

“And more kissing?” Alex asked with an eyebrow raised, and he saw a faint blush creep across her cheeks.

“That too,” she admitted with a sigh.

“Well, I can promise that these men are all flash and no bang. They are being loud to be intimidating because that’s all they have going for them. It’s the quiet ones you have to worry about. The ones you never hear coming,” he explained as a car alarm went off again. He was about to continue talking to convince her they would be safe, if a bit sore, when it registered.

The car alarm that was blaring was further away. It was coming from one of the cars he must have moved in his rearranging, not one of the ones closest to them. Alex had left those keys with those cars, carefully tucked inside the wheel well to avoid setting off the alarms. There was barely any gas left in them, but they could still be useful to someone else for the battery or shelter. Which meant there was only one reason the alarm was going off. Someone, or something, else was there.

Judging by the growling shrieks that echoed, they had attracted more than other survivors.  

“Shit,” he barely breathed as he twisted in his seat to peer over the wall. He could see them, a good dozen of them sprinting toward where the men were yelling again. They were drawn to sound and movement, so the men frantically picking up what they could to run had caught their eyes. And the car alarm still going off, one of them having probably bumped into it, would just keep drawing more and more of them. “We’re going to have to move,” Alex said as Madeline peered over the wall with him.

These stupid fucking men had ruined everything, Had destroyed any hope of shelter by kicking in, or shooting down, the doors of the condos. They had drawn the things by being so loud, and now they were just a beacon for anything else around. Madeline had seen the way these things worked firsthand too many times. They would just keep coming in droves, looking for prey in packs.

“The only way down is the fire escape,” Madeline answered as she shifted the backpack. “The men,” she started, but Alex shook his head.

“The men are less dangerous than these things. We make a run for a car; they’re doing the same thing at this point; they aren’t going to be as concerned with us; they’ll be worried about themselves,” Alex answered as he hefted one duffle on his shoulder, then grabbed the second backpack. If he was going to be using the M16, he needed to be a little freer to move.

Madeline dug into her pockets and pulled out the keys, fingers gripping them all in one hand before grabbing the second duffel and half-hauling it over a shoulder. It was heavy, the strap digging into her skin, but she gritted her teeth as she adjusted it. She was lopsided with weight but shifted and began jogging toward the fire escape.  

The shrieks were getting closer, and the panicked yells of the men below them added to the mix. After days of near silence, the noise was enough to make Madeline flinch as she ran with Alex toward the fire escape, hitting the unlock button on every fob she could. The chaos would hopefully keep the men below distracted from her actions as the mechanical clicks and flashing lights indicated that vehicles were being unlocked.

“Keep going,” Alex said with a nod as he came up hot on her heels, seeing her hesitate at the railing as she looked to him for instructions. “I’m right behind you,” he said as he gestured for her to get moving.

They made it down a level and a half before pained screams met their ears. The group of raiders hadn’t gotten away in time. Madeline focused on her breathing as she kept going and made it to the third floor when a few things burst through the breezeway, chasing a man who had broken away. Not a man. One of those teenagers who no longer had a weapon and was sprinting for his life. He wasn’t going to make it; the tall fences were going to block him in, and he seemed to realize it the second Madeline did.

“Get in a car!” Madeline screamed loud enough that it made her ears pop. “Get in one of the cars!”  

The kid hesitated, looked up, and made eye contact with Madeline, who was half-leaning over the railing as she pointed to the scattered vehicles. He seemed to understand after a second and ran for one, reaching for a door handle and yanking hard. It didn’t budge.

Alex groaned at Madeline but shifted his stance, raising his gun up to try and help the kid, taking aim at one of the things as he ran for another car. Madeline was fumbling with the keys to unlock them, double-hitting the buttons to get another car fully unlocked, when Alex took his shot. It caught the infected person in the shoulder; it didn’t do much but slow it down for a second as it twisted with the impact. Alex shot again and caught it in the neck, the bullet angling off to shatter a car window. They were too fast. He shifted his sights to be just a few inches ahead and took a third shot, and it hit home right in the temple.

“Oh fuck,” the kid yelled as the blood sprayed everywhere, and he yanked on a car door. He managed to get it flung open, but the rest of the party had arrived. There were too many. Alex sent a spray of bullets to try and take as many out as possible, but only a few shots made their mark.

Madeline watched it as if in slow motion as one of the things bodily climbed up over the car and tackled the teenager from above. The panicked scream made her gasp, and she twisted away from the sight as the boy yelled for help, his voice drowning out in gurgles as the thing clamped down on his neck and ripped at his jugular.

 “You have to go, Madeline,” Alex said as he came up beside her, eyes darting around at the mess in the parking lot below them. There were too many, and that damn car alarm was still going off, drawing more.

“Which car?” Madeline asked frantically as she looked up at Alex, who was looking at the parking lot.

“Any of them,” he answered. “Pick one and just drive,” he instructed.

“Fine,” Madeline answered as she looked down at the keys in her hand before glancing at the parking lot. “The red Ford then,” she stated as she held up the keys; he had said he had been partial to a Ford anyway. “I’ll open the back door for you so you can concentrate on keeping them back.”

“No. I want you to get in the car and go.” Alex stated as he flicked his eyes down to her. He saw the moment the words clicked in her head that he was telling her to go without him. The panic in her face was only emphasized more by the last bit of color draining from her face.

“What? No. I’m not going to leave you,” Madeline nearly squeaked as she reached for his arm as if afraid he was going to run from her now. “That’s not how this works.”

“There’s a huge farm about twenty miles straight north from here, off this main road,” he gestured toward the community's exit, ignoring her protests and how she opened her mouth to fight. “Stay on the state road where you can and find Mulberry. It’ll be right before you get to the next town on your left. Go down it for a while until you see the barn and other buildings. Don’t go into them or on the property; go to the service road behind them and wait there. Pull off the road into the woods a bit.” Alex kept his voice even, unhurried, as he relayed the instructions even though they were running out of time.

“No. I’m not going without you,” Madeline said firmly as she held him. She’d be damned if she left him here alone.

“I told you I tried to plan for everything; this is one of them,” Alex answered as he looked down at her. “I will cover you to get to the car, and you will get in and go.” His words were a firm command but not a cold one, just one that she knew there was no arguing with. “Both of us will not make it right now; there are too many. You know it, and I know it,” he paused, staring into her wide eyes to make sure she understood. He gently placed his hand over her own and squeezed once before prying her grip off him.

“Alex, I-” Madeline started, her heartbeat throbbing in her ears.

“I’ll follow you when I can. But you only wait for me until daybreak tomorrow. If I don’t find you by dawn, you need to keep moving. One group of raiders just means there are three more around. You can’t linger. You have to keep on the move,” he instructed, feeling a lump in his throat but forging on. “I have a map,” he dug into his back pocket and handed her a well-folded piece of paper. “It goes as far as the middle of Alabama, so you’ll have to get another. But I highlighted the route. Remember not to take-”

“Stop!” Madeline snapped as she shoved the hand he held out to her with the map. “I’m not going anywhere without you. I am not leaving you. Do you think I can get to Texas alone? You think I can live with leaving you here?” She felt a dizzying swoop in her stomach just thinking about what he was asking her to do. A few days ago, she was so upset with him that she told herself she would be fine if he just walked out the door, but the reality was she was terrified to be alone. To be without him. “I don’t like this plan. I don’t like any of this. Give me another plan of yours; you said you have multiple. Pick another one.” She was firm in her words, though she felt like she would be sick.

“You don’t have to like a plan for it to be the best plan,” Alex answered with a sad smile. “I’ve gotten you this far…you have to trust me.”

Madeline opened her mouth to keep arguing when something rattled the fire escape. The things were trying to climb up to them; it seemed their original quarry was either dead or turned, and they were the new focus. She felt Alex shove the map into her hands as he raised his gun and shot down right through the gaps in the metal floor, hitting the one in the lead right between the eyes.

“Go, Madeline,” Alex said as he avoided her gaze, staring down the sights of his gun to take aim at more of them. “Run right for the Ford. Don’t pause, and don’t look back; I’ve got you.”

“You better be there,” Madeline breathed as she shoved the map into the front of her sweater, needing to keep her hands free. “I need you to be there, Alex.”

“I’ll see you in a bit,” Alex answered, daring to look over at her one more to give her a soft smile and nod.

Madeline felt her body move while her heart still screamed at her to stay, to make it work so they could go together. But she knew Alex was right; he had been right about every move they had made so far. If she lingered, she could ruin his chance to escape, so she needed to trust that he knew what he was doing.

Before she knew it, she was jumping a few feet down between the bottom of the fire escape and the parking lot, careful to avoid the thing that was still oozing blood from what was left of its head. The asphalt was wet, and even over the growls and shrieks, she could hear the rubber of her sneakers squeak against the pavement as she sprinted. The things seemed to be right on her heels as she went, and she felt her bones rattle with every shot that Alex took, hands flying up to protect her head as one felt so dangerously close she was certain she felt the breeze of a bullet on her neck. But just as he promised, Alex kept her covered.

She made it to the car and ripped the door open, practically falling into the seat as she did. She threw the duffel into the passenger seat and balled her feet under her before slamming the door shut. One of the things rammed hard into the glass as if it was only a second behind her, and she screamed into the muffled silence of the car as its hands clawed at the glass, frantic to get to her. She stared at it for a second before shakily hitting the push start and throwing the shifter into drive as she pried the backpack off.  

Alex watched from his perch as Madeline wriggled around inside the SUV, peeling the backpack off her back before starting the engine. When he knew she was locked inside and uninjured, he raised his gun up from its firing position and rushed back up the metal steps to the top. The whole structure shook under him as the things writhed and fought one another to get to him first, snarling with rage and hunger.

The fire escape on the far side of the building was his only option at this point. It was the furthest from the getaway cars and closest to the beacon still blaring, drawing every infected within miles, but there was no other choice. The things were only a few paces behind, and Alex heard the telltale sound of a body falling onto the roof in its uncoordinated rush to get to its prey. He began running again, changing out his magazine as he went and tossing the empty one somewhere on the roof.

Alex had known his chances of escaping were slim when he told Madeline to leave him. But as he watched her speed out of the community, tires screeching and horn blaring to draw the infected away, Alex felt a sense of contentment with his choice. After so many failures on this mission, he succeeded in one of his promises: he kept her safe.

[definitelynotgideon]

This is a Genya Shinazugawa x OC (Gideon Azulyss) MLM Fic 🏳️‍🌈

A/N: a bit of a shorter chapter this time around but lots of action happening!! Getting into the meat of things now, so excited to reveal more over time :3 I have plans...

C/W: Slight disturbing language in terms of a death

Word Count: 1,131

The Demons We Face | Chapter 19, The Wolf pt 2

Preview/Intro:

The firing of a gun.

Genya wakes up with a start. He'd slept lightly most of the night, a level of nerve keeping him from falling deep into rest. He trusted that Gideon would protect him while he slept, but… he didn't want to leave Gideon to potentially face a demon by himself… with a foreign weapon no less.

He looks around. Gideon wasn't the one to fire, that much was apparent. From where he was sitting, he likely would have fallen back onto Genya if only slightly with kickback. The shot would also be much louder if it had come from Genya's gun.

The silver haired man looks to Genya with wide eyes, as one more shot rings out into the night air.

They are both up, no words needing to be shared as they run into their plan A scenario.

The village comes into view and Gideon sprints ahead, his eyes locked onto a large shadow figure who has a civilian in its clutches. He's swift to draw back his hammer and aim for the head…

But he doesn't calculate for the beast's speed.

The drawback of not knowing an enemy fully before engaging was that one had to learn quickly amidst combat. The civilian's body snaps, killing them with a sickening crunch as the wolf demon ducks and snarls.

“FUCK!”

Gideon turns, whirling his hammer to use it's momentum to his advantage as he lands a hit. The wolf was right on him, the corpse forgotten but blood on its paws. The wolf towers over Gideon and Genya's height easily, comparable to Himejima’s height and built in muscle to match.

For just a moment as the silver haired slayer dodges attacks and relays on his own speed, he's thankful that Genya isn't in close combat.

Genya has chosen a rooftop, he scales it easily using fencing and grates conveniently stores on the side of the selected house. He prepares himself, laying flat to not draw attention and make the task more challenging… but he waited to take a shot.

Both fighters were fast… it would only take one false move to accidentally shoot Gideon. So as heart wrenching as it was, he had to wait.

Come on …

Teeth snap just shy of Gideon’s face. He uses the head of his hammer to thrust forward into the chest of the beast, ultimately making it stumble and sending him backwards, creating space for him to prepare a swing. Both charge in, Gideon violently connects the hammer into the wolf’s shoulder as it slashes him, before falling back.

He cries out in pain, a level of fury graveled into his throat. The cut isn't incredibly beep but blood spilled from him and the wolf sneers.

Before it can launch itself at Gideon again… two shots ring out of a double barreled shotgun. One connects with the neck, missing the head as Genya curses and reloads.

The wolf immediately whirls to face the shooter and snarls the most unworldly growl before charging him.

“NO!” Gideon ran after him, sluggish by his injury. Genya was finishing placing the rounds in and had just shut his gun when the wolf lept onto the roof.

Gideon was desperate. Desperate to give Genya more time… desperate to switch him places in an instant… but the only thing he could think to do was throw his hammer.

The claw sinks deep into its back. It howls in rage, furiously grasping for the lodged weapon and effectively breaking the handle in the process. It whirls to the now unarmed slayer on the ground, furious.

Genya shoots at close range before it goes back for Gideon, and draws his wakizashi to finish decapitation. Wild purple eyes flash to Gideon, who falls to his knees panting.

Genya hops skillfully down from the roof and runs to him. “How deep is the cut?! Let me see!”

Gideon leans back with a hiss of pain. “N-Not deep, just… fucking fresh. Hah…”

Genya looks closely, the blood is still coming out of the wound. If it wasn't that deep clotting would have been stopping some of it by now… he looks up to Gideon in concern.

“You may need stitches, the middle one is deep.” He says.

Genya's crow flies over from the forest and caws at the two boys. “Kakushi! Kakushi!! I'll get them!!”

Genya is looking around, slight panic building even though he was doing his best to stay calm. This was the world of a demon slayer, but he couldn't help but feel the same amount of hopelessness as back then…

Another loved one painted in blood… Gideon could have easily died had he been one step closer to the slash-

Gideon reaches to squeeze his shoulder. “I'll be okay. Look at me.”

Genya does so. His eyes show his fear, but Gideon smiles for his sake trying to reassure him. “I'll be okay baby.”

Genya lets it sink in for just a moment, and then gives a little nod.

“...I need to wrap this in the meantime. I need your help to do it.” Gideon says to him.

“Right! Okay- stay here, I'll- I'll go get a wrapping!!”

Gideon nods, and watches Genya disappear around the corner as he runs to look for bandages… that's when Gideon unmasks how badly it actually hurts.

He's pretty certain that the strike affected his ribcage as well. It was difficult to take in deep breaths. The Kakushi would arrive soon he was sure… they would know more about first aid than Genya and himself. He just…

Hated the scarred look on his lover's face. He should have been more careful. Should have continued to evade the wolf, but he got too close. And now he was defenseless, because his hammer was broken in the fight.

Another weapon he couldn't care for properly… tears sting the corners of his eyes as he silently relented… should he even be a demon slayer at this point? Was he more trouble than he was worth?

He shook his head a little. He couldn't loose it now. He couldn't have Genya come back to him in that state… not when he was trying to keep both of them calm just moments ago.

Genya returns with bandages. Villagers start to wander out of hiding as the ashes continue to drift from the downed demon on the rooftop. A young woman has run back to Gideon with Genya, offering to help him wrap.

Gideon winces in pain as his destroyed uniform top is carefully removed. The young woman begins to clean the wound as gently as she can, and Genya preps the wrapping. By the time they have his chest bound, the Kakushi arrive to take over…

Gideon passes out in a cart brought by the kakushi, exhausted…

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter47: Epilogue Katsu settles in in Azuchi. Plus kittens.

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3 

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

Azuchi, Six weeks later…

The maids were going to kill me. Having been one myself, I understood the frustration of someone dripping mud across a freshly cleaned floor. But even though I left my mucky geta at the entry, there was no way to stop the rest of my clothing from scattering dirty water all the way down the corridor.

“You should just let Katsuko decide.” Though I’d intended to go change into dry clothes, I ended up halting by the door to Mitsuhide’s office area when I heard Toshiie’s voice.

What is this all about?

Before I could hide behind the door to eavesdrop, Mitsuhide called out. “I hear you out there, Brat, you might as well come in.”

As I entered, both took in my barefoot and soaked appearance with varying levels of concern (Toshiie) and amusement (Mitsuhide). I sighed. “Yes. My horse dumped me in a puddle again. Yes, in front of Nobunaga.”

On the bright side it had been after the afternoon of negotiations with a contingent of Nanban merchants, so at least I hadn’t spent the day messy and uncomfortable. Far from being insulted that one of his entourage had suffered an embarrassing splat, Nobunaga had been amused by the whole thing. Though he was still an imposing authority figure, and a stern boss, I suspected that below all that was an inner troll.

Mitsuhide took off his socks and passed them to me.

“Funny. That horse never does that to Ieyasu.” Toshiie’s comment confirmed to me that Ieyasu had continued to secretly ride her on the days where I was occupied with my duties as Nobunaga’s translator.

Eager to move the conversation away from my latest riding mishap, I turned to Toshiie. “What are you doing here?”

Usually at this time of day, he was in Ieyasu’s manor, while the two spent the afternoons exchanging medical knowledge. Now looking much more like the brother I remembered, he’d been enthusiastically training in feudal medicine. To everyone’s surprise, Ieyasu appeared not only to tolerate his company, but actually enjoy it.

Immediately Toshiie clammed up, looking furtive. Mitsuhide simply raised his eyebrow. Oh. Another romantic gesture was incoming. Mitsuhide had taken to love bombing me with just-because gifts. The gestures were always thoughtful, though occasionally embarrassingly timed, such as when he had Keiji perform a K-pop ballad in the middle of a banquet. (“How did you remember all the lyrics and teach it to him?” “I have my ways.”)

Hm. I would get nothing out of Toshiie with Mitsuhide around – I would have to privately interrogate my brother later.

“Come over here – I haven’t seen my darling fiancée all day.” Mitsuhide patted a spot on the floor next to him. I was soaked and muddy, but… details. If Mitsuhide wanted to be covered with ambient muck, who was I to stop him? After kissing me thoroughly (much to Toshiie’s embarrassment) Mitsuhide easily switched to business mode. “Was your day a success?”

“Yes to the negotiation, no to the drawing.” Before leaving modern Japan, I had printed out a screencap of Father Slappy Hands, and Mai had tried to draw him wearing period appropriate costume. I’d taken the drawing with me to show it to the Nanban merchants, but none of them recognized him. Nor had I been able to locate Francisco to question him about the man (or the gun).  He was still playing least-in-sight, and his business had been shuttered all winter.

Removing the drawing from the leather tube that had protected it when I splashed down, I unrolled it and showed it to Toshiie. “Do you remember this guy?” It was unlikely he would recognize the man who had spied on the gymnastics meet. It had been nearly fifteen years and Toshiie only had him on camera for a few seconds. So I was surprised when Toshiie said, “Nuno da Guerra. Why is he dressed as a missionary?”

Mitsuhide pulled our original screencap out of his desk and passed it to Toshiie. “Same man?”

Toshiie squinted at it. “Could be. What is this about?”

“He attacked us in Sakai. Once when we were investigating a slave auctions, and then a couple weeks after that.” At my selective edit (Toshiie did not need to know exactly how I had been investigating that) Mitsuhide raised his eyebrow, but let the omission go. “How do you know him?”

“I don’t know much about him at all. He would sometimes visit the herbalist.” Toshiie gave a bit of a shrug. “But… there are rumors that he’s bringing in opium from Goa.”

“That would certainly be a deviation from history.” A new voice came from the ceiling, then a moment later, Sasuke popped into the room with a graceful flip.”

“Dear me. Are you at all aware of a concept called… a door?” Mitsuhide gestured to his rifle, which was within reaching distance. “One of these days someone is going to hear you scrabbling around up there, shoot first, then question later.”

“If I ever made enough noise to, um, scrabble, Kenshin would skewer me before I lever left Kasugayama.” Sasuke turned and bowed to Toshiie. “Greetings and salutations. I take it you are Katsu’s brother.” He raised his hand in a Vulcan salute.

Since Sasuke’s greeting had only served to confuse Toshiie, I introduced the two of them and explained the future connection.

“Before this conversation can degenerate into a litany of modern Japanese cultural touchstones-,” MItsuhide’s eyebrow raise was in full force, “will you please expand on what it is you were talking about when you so charmingly… dropped in.”

Sasuke pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Historically, Japan never had the type of … issue… with opium that the Chinese empire did. Although its use medicinally dates from this period, it was rarely used recreationally, and by the nineteenth century the Tokugawa shogunate proactively banned it. Therefore, a foreign merchant attempting to disseminate it as a drug in this era, could theoretically do a fair amount of damage to a culture that has not been inoculated by China’s bad example.” Having dropped that lecture on us, Sasuke turned to Toshiie. “Did I hear you say you were working with the one and only Tokugawa Ieyasu? Would you mind if I accompanied you back? I’m eager to hear your impressions of that man.”

Seeming bemused by the torrent of words, Toshiie simply nodded.

“Wait, Sasuke. Were you just in the ceiling to spy?” Seemed like a rather large risk, especially when he could easily have just walked in through the entry.

“Ah. It escaped my mind when I heard him mention Ieyasu.” Sasuke dug a letter out of his kimono. “Yoshimoto sent this.”

Moving quickly, I grabbed the letter before Mitsuhide could confiscate it. “Thanks, Sasuke.”

He and Toshiie were already on their way out, with Sasuke eagerly listing his favorite Ieyasu accomplishments.

“It’s probably for both of us,” I said to Mitsuhide, hoping to prevent a sarcastic-

“Ah yes. Of course. I am accustomed to receiving love letters from a resident of Kasugayama.” He pulled me closer to him. “Hm, you are indeed quite damp.”

“There’s a thing called rain that you may have heard about.” Then, because I doubted he would let me leave with an unopened letter, I unsealed it and held it up so that we could both read it. “Save you the trouble of stealing it later.”

“Pity. I quite enjoy your attempts to ransom back your belongings.” He rested his chin on my shoulder and began narrating the letter. “’Dear Katsuko.’ Hrm. Inauspicious beginning. I would think you’d rate a darling at least.”

“If you’re going to snark all the way through this-“

“I make no promises.”

Sigh.

“I hope this letter finds you well. Thank you for the letter you sent via Sasuke. I shall cherish it always.” Mitsuhide tapped my forehead with his finger. “You wrote to him?”

“He did see me go over the wall. I thought he at least deserved to know that I survived… and deserved thanks for helping me out.” I elbowed him. “May I finish or are you going to continue to be a yandere about it.”

“Carry on.” He tickled the back of my neck. “He may have a paper from you, but I have the real thing.”

“’I am relieved to know that you survived your journeys through time, and if you are indeed settled in Azuchi, I wish for all your happiness. However, be assured there will always be a place for you wherever I am.’”

Hm, maybe I shouldn’t have let Mitsuhide read over my shoulder after all.

Luckily for the sake of peace in our relationship, Yoshimoto’s letter quickly switched gears to catch us up on politics. “You maybe be aware that Yoshiaki has entered a Buddhist temple. He will not be leaving it, as he recently suffered a brain storm that has left him rather incapacitated.”

Brain storm? Stroke? Yoshiaki was a little young for that, although I supposed it was possible.

“I thought that might occur.” MItsuhide sounded a bit… disappointed. “Although I do wish that could be confirmed.” Ok, not disappointed. Suspicious.

“As for your young friends, Sho and Hiko, they have settled in nicely at Kasugayama. Hiko has been all but adopted by Kanetsugu, who prizes education and has a school in the city. Our lovely flower Sho has a string of lovelorn vassals following her every step, although she does seem to prefer arguing with Yukimura. Shingen and I are amused by how easily they annoy each other. Meanwhile, I have returned to my passionate patronage of the arts. Come the Spring, I do believe I shall make the journey to Azuchi in order to explore the wares of your local artisans. I hope to encounter you then. Yoshimoto.”

“Is he warning us of an attack on Azuchi in the Spring? Or does he really plan to go shopping?” With Yoshimoto, it could go either way.

“I suspect the latter. Kenshin may be battle crazy, but he prefers to fight in a more open territory. Terrorizing civilians is not his style.” Mitsuhide made a move to confiscate the letter again, but I quickly folded it up. “It’s rather disappointing he wasn’t specific on the timing of his travel plans, in order for me to ensure you and I are elsewhere.”

I decided to ignore that bait. If we got into an argument, I never would get to the bathhouse, and I had become more uncomfortably damp as the afternoon wore on. A hot bath, and then maybe I could convince Mitsuhide to make an early night of… drat.

A long discussion of any of the things we had just learned had to wait. I’d forgotten that Mai had arranged the often-threatened “double date” for this evening. True, I liked Mai and Hideyoshi, and a meal cooked by Masamune was almost enough to make me forget my preference for a quiet night in. But given the already late hour, I rushed through my clean up, then had to press Mitsuhide into service to help me control my hair.

“Are you sure it’s going to stay?” I gently touched the series of knots behind my head, all held in place by a mass of hairsticks, including my beloved bellflower lockpicks.

He placed his hand on his heart. “I am devestated to hear you question my abilities as a hairstylist. It will last as long as it needs to last.”

With that cryptic statement, he led me into Hideyoshi’s manor… where I discovered that the hairstyle was meant to last until I bowed, at which point, the structural integrity disintegrated, gravity took over, and everything landed on the floor in a clatter of hairsticks. I cleared my bangs from my vision in time to see Hideyoshi wince.

Yep, I had already heard his opinions of how an employee of the Oda ought to look in public. It was similar to his opinions on running in the hallway, allowing Nobunaga to purchase a large quantity of konpieto in Saiki (as if I could have stopped him), and general tardiness.

To his credit, aside from flinching, Hideyoshi easily moved things along, becoming a perfect dinner host. Though Mai was the only one of us who had ever been on a double date, the evening proceeded smoothly enough, especially when Mitsuhide brought up Yoshiaki’s reported illness and the conversation turned to politics.

It was nice to be able to sit back in a relaxed setting and watch Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide interact. Though on the surface, Mitsuhide subjected Hideyoshi to as much teasing as he did me, I could see there was deep respect and admiration between the two of them. I recalled Mai mentioning that Mitsuhide only teased when he was serious, and I mentally amended that to the fact that he only teased where he loved.

Yep, his love language was snark.

As I continued to watch the two of them, Mitsuhide’s expression radiating relaxation and contentment, even as he good naturedly disagreed with something Hideyoshi had said, I realized that contentment was mirrored inside myself. I … was … happy. It was unexpected. Though I had spent most of my life running from unhappiness and my mother’s example, I had never run toward happiness. Instead, I’d had a hard-fought equilibrium, a balanced life that I enjoyed, and I’d been fine with my lot.

But this all was new. And… lovely.

Catching my gaze… and the direction of my thoughts, Mitsuhide smiled at me. “Happy?”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine anything that would make this moment better.” If I could have frozen everything in time, I might have chosen this exact point.

Although Mai did have a suggestion that was intriguing. “Mitsunari and a basket of kittens.”

“Ok, that might just-“

“No.” Her voice was full of wonder and amusement. “Mitsunari has a basket of kittens.” She sighed and gestured to a point behind me.

I turned and… Mitsunari stood at the door, holding a basket of kittens. A little grey one had already escaped containment and was climbing his arm.

@($^()*!(&*^

“My response was perfectly normal given the situation. He had a basket of kittens.” I took one of the hoodies I had smuggled back to the Sengoku and used it to create a makeshift bed for the new feline members of our household – Hawkeye and Natasha.

It turned out that Toshiie’s ‘secret’ meeting with Mitsuhide had been to determine which kitten I might like. They’d decided to let me choose for myself, hence Mitsunari’s sudden appearance (he’d gotten the message confused) with his cat’s recently weaned offspring. “Thank you for the gift. It was very thoughtful.”

I stood up and gave him a kiss.

“To be clear, the gift was the cats themselves, and not the man holding them.” He picked up Natasha, tickled her grey striped fur, then held her against his chest. “Until I saw you and Mai melt that way, I had not realized that women become that weak when presented with the sight of a man holding a miniature cat.” He set the other kitten on his shoulder then smirked at me.

It didn’t have quite the effect that Mitsunari had, but he looked handsome none the less, especially when he tapped his finger over his sensual lips.

“A basket of kittens. Not that he held onto that that long.” Mitsunari’s attempt to keep the kittens in the basket had met with certain failure, resulting in seven furry bullets ricocheting all over Hideyoshi’s quarters. By the time the five of us managed to round them all up, the double date was well and truly over.

Mitsuhide seemed to have ‘the touch’ with them, and he settled them onto the hoodie. They instantly curled into each other, and dropped into sleep. “Tomorrow, I’ll introduce them to Chimaki and ensure she understands they are friends. But for now…” He turned, scooped me up, and carried me to our own bed (he seemed to like doing that, and I was getting used to it). “I believe we should follow their example.”

In moments, we had created our own ‘cuddle puddle,’ our arms and legs entangled. “The fact that you remembered I still miss my old cat. It was… I’m…” Too many words struggled for supremacy. This was beyond happiness.

“I know.” He pushed my hair out of my eyes. “I remember every moment of that night. The best and the worst parts of it. I wanted to love you slowly and thoroughly, but I told myself that was not something I could have. Still… there was a part of me that pretended it was the first night of many. That we would return to Azuchi together, I would find a cat for you, and you would-“

“Give you everything. I have. And I will.” No more words were needed. He made good on his promise and began to make love to me, slowly, tenderly, taking time to assuage both of our needs, rocking against me as gently as a boat rode upon the waves.

Maybe it had been a longer route to get here… but we had made it.

The tenth thing I hate about Mitsuhide. The fact that everything about him makes it impossible to avoid loving him.

Coda: Sasuke

“Status update?” Aki, still looking frail and slightly feverish, settled behind the massive European style desk in his office.

Sasuke considered telling his part-time employer to take a few days off, but he settled for handing the man a bottle of antibiotics stolen from the hospital pharmacy. Though Aki had wanted to return to the Sengoku era immediately, Sasuke and Kayten convinced him to wait at least a week to ensure his infection would not recur. Instead, they had used the prototype to laterally jump to Sasuke and Kayten’s primary timeline, where at least the police (not to mention Shingen and their alternates) could not follow.

Now, after very little rest, the three were in the modern version of Aki’s manor in the Togakushi mountains, trying piece together the strands of the known timelines. While Aki was often out of communication range, as he hopped around the multiverse, he usually had let them know where he was going. The trips to 1578 and 1586 had been unplanned, leaving Kayten and Sasuke scrambling to not only manage the timelines, but also search for Aki.

“To borrow a phrase, would you prefer hearing good news or bad news?” Sasuke did at least like to prepare people first.

In this case, though, Kayten was clearly feeling less polite and her hiss of frustration suggested she didn’t appreciate his attempt to soften the blow. “One of the Katsukos was executed.”

A harsh way to put it, but Sasuke remembered the look on Kayten’s face when they arrived in timeline G a few days after her alternate had been put to death. He’d never wanted to see that look again.

Aki closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, he said (in Sasuke’s opinion) the worst thing possible. “And Hikosane?”

“He’s fine. Dad. Adopted by one of Nobunaga’s vassals.” She got to her feet, glaring at them both under a fringe of violet bangs. “I know there’s a bunch of us… versions of myself scattered across the multiverse … maybe to you, it doesn’t matter if one of us dies. But it feels like little pieces of me are being chipped away.” For a moment it looked like she was about to say more, perhaps even include Sasuke in her blast of anger. But instead, she simply left the room, without even a slammed door to punctuate her outburst.

Unsure of whether to try to comfort his friend or continue to keep Aki company, Sasuke stayed frozen in indecision.

“She’s wrong.” Aki’s voice was so quiet, Sasuke might have thought he imagined it. “I lost them both once, and my response to that almost destroyed the multiverse.”

Coming next winter… As Yuki Likes It

Courier, scout, daredevil, housemaid … Bodyguard? Katsuko has had many identities in the seven years since a wormhole sent her back in time to feudal Japan, and she’s found a certain satisfaction working for Akihira. Then an accidental encounter with an alternate timeline gives her a glimpse of a blissful future with a handsome grey-eyed warlord.

To ensure that future for herself, Katsu accepts a mission guiding a young prince and princess to Kasugayama. But a series of betrayals endangers that mission, and only by accepting the escort of Sanada Yukimura do they have any chance of reaching their destination. Meanwhile, Katsu’s wish for that once-glimpsed future is tested by her growing friendship with Yukimura. Not that it matters, as Yukimura is fascinated by the beautiful Princess Shohime… a girl already betrothed to the Dragon of Echigo.

Only time can sort out this entanglement of mismatched lovers. And time… is the one thing that is quickly running out.

… Loosely inspired by Shakespeare's As You Like It

Excerpt

I handed Shohime my arrows, knowing her aim was nearly as good as mine. “You know what to do.” I nudged her toward the cover of trees. “Wait… give you your shawl.”

While she and Hikosane vanished in the undergrowth, I pulled my hair out of the braid, and wrapped her shawl around my shoulders. It would fool no one at close range, but hopefully I could lead our attackers out of the area until the Kanamori vassals could bring reinforcements.

Then I leaped on my horse, and making as much noise as I could, cantered out to the crossroads, where the mercenaries were still searching for us. Moonlight wasn’t fast, but in this mountainous territory, a surefooted horse was more valuable anyway. To ensure I had their attention, I shrieked in fear, then took off through the trees.

Behind me, I could hear the pounding of hoofbeats, and the occasional yelps as one of the ronin got too personal with a low-hanging branch. Taking a meandering path, I zig-zagged through the area, until I was sure the men behind me were thoroughly lost.

After that, it was simply a matter of finding my way back to the others. I love it when a plan comes togeth-

In the midst of my anachronistic celebration, I heard another horse behind me. “Hey! Stop!”

Yeah, that would be a big old no. I spurred Moonlight into action again, but this pursuer was a bit more competent than the others, and no matter how sharply I turned, I could not lose him.

Plan B.

I cut back around, across his path, and took Moonlight directly toward a puddle of water. As expected, as soon as her feet got wet, she reared up, and dumped me off.

Shit, this is going to hurt.

I thudded to the ground, rolled, and, as the rider approached, I pulled Shohime’s shawl over my face, pretending to be overcome with terror. Whoever wanted to kidnap her would be surprised to discover they had the wrong girl, but the longer I could string this out, the better chance I had to learn why he wanted her. As footsteps reached the spot where I had ‘fallen’ off my horse, I added a couple of theatrical sobs.

“Ah… geez. Don’t cry. Are you hurt?”

The voice was vaguely familiar. I risked peeking up at the man who was raking his hands through his hair in frustration… Sasuke’s friend? Yuki? What did Yuki want with the Princess? And how could I make his life a misery for grabbing me instead?

Another story has come to an end, and it's always hard for me to say goodbye to the characters - that snarky kitsune just worms his way into the soul, doesn't he? We will of course see these characters again in other longfics, and I'm actually in a few weeks going to do a follower celebration here, with one of the options being "suggest or vote" on a scene to go with a fic in the Katsuverse.

As you can see, Yukimura will be our next hero in longfic #4, and, despite the angsty coda of this story, I'm hoping it will be heavier on the comedy side (more in tone to Mitsunari's story than Shingen's).

Until then, I want to once again thank everyone who read this story, whether you were a Unicorn commenter, or left a comment sometimes or just quietly came in to read. I'm so grateful for everyone - I love this community, both here and on Ao3.

In the meanwhile, as I try to get Yuki's story written, I'll be bringing back a throwback Thursday fic, so starting in April, keep a lookout for A Mitsunari Night's Dream.

@lorei-writes @bestbryn @lyds323 @tele86 @akitsuneswife @selenacosmic