#at least she didn’t use her flame thrower

[rejectingrepublicans]

The cruelty is the point.

[tonberryslantern]

Heir to the Empire

Marcia wyr Agrippina was running out of royalty.  The Senaculum Imperialis was overrun and blood filled the hallways.  She dragged Claudius yae Tiberius over the corpse of his aunt and shoved him behind the podium of the speaker.  The battle was getting quieter.  That meant nothing good.  Magitek didn't scream in pain or victory.

"Stay here," she said as he crawled into the alcove behind the cold iron stand where once the laws of the empire had been laid down. Now the senate chamber was just another place for the citizens of the empire to die.  Rows and rows of seats left empty, save for one near the back where another former prince lay strewn open and steaming.

It was the duty of the Royal Guard to protect the royal family, and they were failing miserably.  Where was Nerva, the rightful Emperor?  He'd disappeared long before they'd left the ruins of the Palatium Novum.  Gone during the civil war which had wracked the city and decimated their numbers.  Last she'd know there were five members of the Royal Guard left; at least the ones following Nerva zos Galvus.

Zos.  The Emperor.

She looked down at the cowering child.  How old was he?  She couldn't even remember.  But he had just been Claudius wyr Tiberius an hour ago.  Before the magitek came.  Since then she'd seen the title change a dozen times.  Wyr became Yae.  Yae became dead and replaced yet another Wyr.  This boy, what was he, third cousin of Nerva?  A grand nephew maybe?  He was now next in line for the throne.  He was the most important thing on this whole planet.  He was the power to shape the future.

She turned and adjusted her grip on her axe as the machine came ripping through the doors into the chamber.  Its treaded legs smashed the corpse of her former prince, and Marcia charged forward through the chaos of the chamber of law.  Did this model have flame throwers?  Missile launchers?  Perhaps an energy beam as well.  Did it belong to the 1st Legion or her 3rd?  Did it matter?  All the safeties had been turned off so they could attack their own people in the war.  It was death was what it was.

A pair of guns atop the metal arachnid opened up and she rolled behind a row of senate seats.  The high caliber rounds tore through them as if they weren't there and one punched into the armor above her shoulder.  It didn't penetrate, but the ricochet clipped her across the cheek and sprayed blood into her eye.  Concealment is not cover she told herself as she got to her feet and kept running.  The machine tracked her with glowing red lenses scattered across its chassis, and she heard a whump whump whump as smoke billowed up around it in vertical plumes.  It did have missiles.

Marcia changed directions, planting a foot on the back of one of the chairs and propelling herself through the air towards the machine.  The warheads hit the balcony gallery before they had a chance to come back down on top of her.  Detonations sent debris falling all around and on top of the machine, fouling the aim of its guns even as the force of the explosions slammed her belly first back onto the ground.

She had no breath.  Her ears were ringing and the room spun like a top.  But the machine was still there.  Claudius was still there.  And she was between them.

With the silence of empty lungs she tore herself from the ground using her axe as leverage and charged.  The machine raised a leg dripping with royal blood to smash her flat.  Somehow her power armor found one last drop of ceruleum in its empty tank.  Magitek servos whirred.  The jets on the back of her axe sputtered and ignited.  The leg came down as she roared upward.

The impact tore the machine's leg from its body.  It scrambled its other limbs to compensate, but Marcia's axe fell again.  Armor crumpled.  Lenses shattered.  She hit it again and again even as her body finally remembered how to breathe once more.  She hit it to save the empire.  She smashed it to save the world.

When it was over sparks flew from severed wires and ceruleum leaked from broken gaskets.  It was as much of a mess as the royal family was.  Worse.  Because Claudius still lived.

"Agrippina!"  She turned then and saw him running towards her.  A slasher was on his heels.  Who had designed such a thing?  A machine made of speed and blades whose only purpose was brutal, bloody death?  What world did they live in where such a thing had seemed, at one time, to be the answer to a problem?  She ran towards him.  Her armor was sluggish.  Her axe was heavy.  But she could make it; just barely.

Then she saw it again.  The title prepared to jump.  It was like it was staring at her, poised like some vicious animal scrambling for its own survival.  A parasite that needed a host.  And she saw herself.  Marcia yae Agrippina.  No.  Marcia zos Agrippina.  The daughter of a noble so obscure there’d been debate over whether to even grant her a Wyr.  Under her leadership the Empire would grow strong again; its enemies crushed before a tide of steel and ceruleum.  Her stomach growled.  She was hungry.

There was almost no hesitation as she ran.  Almost no pause as she swung her axe as hard as she could.  And she destroyed the slasher even as Claudius's final scream still echoed in the senate chamber.

Once there had been a Republic. In this room they debated the best course of action for Garlemald and its people. They argued over taxes, infrastructure, and social welfare.  They bickered and played games; lied, cheated and stole.  But they ruled.  Then came Solus zos Galvus.  The Emperor himself.  He silenced them and pushed them aside to bring the empire to greatness.  To where it was today.

To ruin.

Marcia oen Agrippina shouldered her axe and took her first step over the corpse of the last prince of Garlemald. The royal family was dead. But at least the Senaculum Imperialis could be rebuilt.

[bonktime]

Take a Breath

Ezra (Prospect) x AFAB!reader Oneshot (no use of y/n)

Masterlist

Rated: Explicit

Summary: Your ship has crashed on a planet with low oxygen. With no other options you begin a tenuous partnership with a strange prospector in need of your help fixing his pod. He’s charming but dangerous and if he finds out the whole truth about you, you’ll probably end up dead. With trouble closing in from all sides, you navigate this new connection and hope you both survive in one piece.

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence, blood and death, mentions of religion, sexual harassment (just a couple comments), me having no clue what asphyxiating is actually like, Two has a clear helmet for plot reasons, smut: unprotected PinV sex (there’s no STDs in space), cunnilingus, dom/sub elements, rough sex, size kink, choking (just a little), spitting, praise kink (this one surprised me), biting, a little dirty talk (it is Ezra) - let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Note: I was totally inspired to create this by @jura-moon​ ‘s fic Nostromo which lives in my head and without it, this never would have been written. I have used some of her story beats and ideas so absolute credit goes to her for that. This is sort of a fanfic of Nostromo in many ways 💘 I’d also like to throw thanks at @absurdthirst who reawakened my love of fics, @slater-baby who awoke something in me specifically, and especially to @danniburgh who not only deals with my damn near weekly requests for softness but who also got me to stop editing at 1am whilst drinking tequila. She did us all a favour, let’s be honest.

I hope everyone enjoys this behemoth. Don’t forget to reblog!

Wordcount: 22k

~~~~~~~~

It's not the worst planet to crash on.

The thought is so ridiculous you'd laugh if it wasn't for the blaring alarms and the screaming. Instead, you wrestle into the pilot’s seat and strap in. With the engine dead you'll have to manually time releasing the parachute. It's completely insane. Too early and the parachute burns, you crash into the ground and die. Too late and the parachute doesn't catch you, you crash into the ground and die. Provided you do survive you've at least got your suit on, oxygen tank attached, you'll be able to breath. The planet's oxygen is too low to survive for longer than two hours alone but it'll aid the tank and give you two days, three if you're careful, to get more. At least it isn't poisonous.

Thoughts all over the place you wonder where the other ship will fall. Hopefully close enough you can still make use of it. Hopefully they've got a good pilot.

You've been lucky this far, now all you can do is hope your luck holds. You break atmosphere flames blurring the view of the planet and then it's rushing to meet you. You start counting, watching it come closer, closer. You see the other ship careen away from you.

“Fuck!” Someone behind you shouts “Pull the damn lever are you trying to kill us all?!”

You ignore them, don't lose count. Ok

Three… two… one…

You close your eyes and pull.

You don't open your eyes.

No. For the first time in years. You pray.

⧫⧫⧫

Pain is the first thing you register, across your chest aches like, well, like you've just crashed a ship. The next is the smell, smoke, that can't be good, it's not entirely unpleasant though. Then the noise, someone's shouting in your ear telling you to get up, to move, they swear and leave you dangling upside down, still strapped into the pilots’ seat. Oh, that's why your chest hurts, ok, you think to yourself, you’re alive. You need to move. You need to open your eyes.

You do.

Lights are flashing, disorientating you more than your current position, blood rushing to your head. You reach up and press the release on the seat belt and drop to the floor, or maybe the ceiling, head first. Didn't think that one through you chastise yourself.  The engine is on fire, filling the hull with smoke but your legs are numb so, seizing your pack where it’s fallen beside you, you crawl to the light you think is the door and to your relief, flop outside.

No one notices you. They're all looking away, throwers out and pointed into the dead trees you sit back against the ship still reeling from the crash, too slow to realise how absolutely fucked you are. They come out the trees fast, even with spears and blades, you watch as the crew falls one by one. You can't process what you're seeing, frozen in place. Blood splatters, coming down like rain around you. Too late your body reacts and you stumble to your feet and run.

You get out of sight and then you stop, panting. Every breath aches your chest.

Something's wrong. Something you're not seeing. Right before your eyes. What is it?!

It hits you, slowly like a wave, realisation and then panic. You reach up slowly and touch your head. Gloves come away wet and dark with your blood.

Your helmet is shattered.

You aren't sure if you're crying or blood is dripping into your eyes. You suspect the blood. Feeling numb you keep moving, one foot in front of the other vaguely glancing down at the dial on your arm. After the running you'll be unconscious in at best an hour and a half, dead a little after that.

The petrified forest seems to close in around you. It’s a stillness like you’ve never experienced. Trees tower above you, skeletal branches reaching up like fingers. The limbs cast dark shadows in the bright sun, crossing over the dry brush underfoot, hiding foot falls and branches to trip on.

You walk on.

⧫⧫⧫

15 minutes left.

You decide to find a place to sit, ideally somewhere with a view but you can't me picky. A fallen tree does the job and you pull off the remainder of your helmet. Trying not to think about your imminent demise you look up. The suns are low, three of them. It twinges in your chest that you'll never go home, never see that sky again. Left to rot alone, no one who knows your traditions to perform your rites. Not that you deserve them. If you're going to put the ring back on, now would be the time. Make penance, but you don't think you can. Perhaps the hundred years wait is what you deserve.

7 minutes left.

There's someone approaching. Silhouetted against the scorching red sky, the heat rising from the ground distorting them, making you wonder if you’re hallucinating. The only clue they’re real is the crunch of the ground beneath their feet, but even that seems to echo around you.

Hope is the thing with feathers and it just flaps a wing wearily in your chest. And then stutters. The sun glints off their pistol, a beautiful sparkle that dims your hope. You do what you're good at, grab your own and shoot first. His gun flies from his hand and you smile, at least your aim is true. It falls off your face as quickly as it appears though as you feel a barrel press into your skull.

Clever buggers divided and conquered.

You drop your thrower but whoever it is doesn't lower theirs. “A little creature all alone,” a low voice drawls, “No helmet? No breath? What will we do with you?”

Staring straight at the man in front as he picks up your pistol and glares at you, you respond. “If we are going to chat, can we do it wherever your pod is? I have quite a story but I'll be dead in…” you look down at your dial, the gun increases its pressure on your skull as you try to suppress the panic “In about 5 minutes” the man remains silent, his pistol staying pressed into your skull. Your mind races, trying to find a way to argue your survival and clutches at the one thing you have. “I chose not to kill your friend when I could have done. Can you at least hear me out?”

The man behind you clicks his tongue “Ok! Well, I'm certainly intrigued and I'm sure even my partner here can't disapprove of allowing you to argue your case.” The comment seems pointed like he'll definitely disagree but even as you see his mouth twist he stays silent. “On your feet creature I'm not inclined to lug you back myself.” Standing the man lowers the thrower into your back and gently pushes you forward.

Their pod is close but you're feeling dizzier by the second and don't even think to protest when, as soon as you're in and the doors shut, the man at your back ties your hands behind you.

Focusing on him as he moves in front of you and pulls off his helmet you notice he’s favouring one arm and despite his sharp brown eyes, he looks feverish and drained. Not paying it much thought, you breathe deeply feeling sharper but it only draws your attention back to the pain in your body. Kevva you're tired. The urge to lie down and rest is near overwhelming, but the one who talks is eyeing you coldly for weakness, you’re no use if you can’t even stand.

Still, you try to get your bearings. The pod is small and rectangular, they haven’t turned the lights on and the looming shadows seem to pull in the walls, making your saviours into giants, making you feel like you’re pledging your case to The Olympians. There’s a small bench with a couple chairs next to a tiny stove and sink, there’s only one cot up against the wall, opposite what could be a cupboard but your eyes can’t make it out in the dim light.

“Now then creature, it's not every day we come across such a little thing with no air on this breathless planet and certainly not one who can shoot so damn straight!” The chuckles “I am just fascinated to know how you got into this predicament.”

You nod thinking carefully about your words. “We were a prospecting crew,” that's definitely a lie, “I'm an engineer but I know how to dig.” Well that's true at least, “Our ship fell of orbit but I managed to deploy the chutes in time so we didn't die on impact but…” you close your eyes as the images of the blood flashes before you.

“Let me guess your theatrical entrance gathered a welcoming party?”

“Something like that, I didn't realise my helmet had broken right away, I managed to run… I think everyone else is dead.” In a way you hope they are, else you really are in trouble.

The man is grinning at you, showing his teeth but the calculating gaze doesn’t falter “An engineer I'll be damned! And you can dig too? This is my lucky day. We happen to be in need of an engineer. See, our little pod has seen some better days and now it is unwilling to fly. Say, if you can fix it up and help us dig a smidgen, save us some time, we'll give you a lift out when the time comes? Quid pro quo”

An unwanted thought strikes you, settling deep in your stomach like a stone. “That sounds like a great deal but I won't be able to help you, not unless you supply me with a helmet.”

With that the other man seems to reach the end of his patience. And he moves gesturing at the talker.

“Now then, it just doesn't seem right to let such a pretty little thing suffocate on this rock... Well, I can't argue with that I suppose… I do apologise, little creature, I find myself, however unwittingly, agreeing with my partner. If you can’t help us then I can find no reasonable excuse to waste our resources on you. Looks like the deals off” he sighs “This is disappointing, I had such high hopes for our association.” With a shrug he pats your shoulder in sympathy that doesn’t meet his eyes. You shouldn't have hoped, your lucks all spent.

You take a deep breath, mind racing to find a way to survive, “Untie my hands at least, I'd appreciate some dignity as I walk to meet my maker.” You glance at your pack on the floor, you won’t need it now.

He pauses for a second, seeming to size you up before nodding and turning you around to face the door. In the reflection of the glass, you see the profile of his sharp features as he looks back, “Now then two, surely you can do the creature the quick the justice of a shot rather than a slow suffocation… Right good.” He cuts your hands loose and instantly the other man is there pressing his thrower into your back. You walk together, back into the waste.

There's only one way you're getting out of this so you close your eyes for a second and pause. He shoves you, lifting his gun to the back of your head. You take a breath and act.

Bending forwards and shoving your elbow up into his arm so the shot goes over your head, you spin knocking the gun aside and grab the small switchblade concealed in your pocket. He should have searched you. You don't hesitate as you stab him in the heart, following him to the ground and wrenching his helmet off. You close your eyes as the light leaves his.

Shaking off the nausea clamouring at you, you pull out the blade blanching as it sprays blood across you. You wipe it clean before stowing it away and then swipe a hand across your face, there’s no way to tell whether the deep red that rubs off on your hand is his or yours, or someone else’s. Feelin around in your pockets for a coin, you suppose the least you can do is pay his boatman so you place the coin under his tongue. You don’t pray. The dead don’t need it.

Ezra watches as you perform this strange ritual, he had to admit that he's captivated. Perhaps his wound has rotted so much he's delirious, finally driven mad by the toxins. Perhaps that was why he agreed to free your hands, why he didn’t check you for a blade. He considers you as he watches, so determined to stay alive.

You pull off the man's suit grateful he's small, even if it'll still swamp you, and grab his helmet. Stripping your own suit quickly you ignore the bandages on your forearm and pull his on. The fit isn't bad, it still seals around your wrists and ankles but it’s loose at your neck. You've got 12 minutes before you pass out unless you fix the hole your own knife made and get a tank of oxygen.

You look at the pod, the other man is watching you. Brown eyes piercing yours as if looking into your soul. It's him or nothing. You've got to try.

You approach the pod carrying your suit. Looking through the glass in the door and you gesture a setting for your radio, there’s a click followed by his harsh breathing.

“That was not especially kind, little creature. I certainly underestimated your ferociousness”

You shrug, “It was him or me.”

“What makes your existence so exponentially more important than his d’you think?”

You frown, “I didn't decide that it did, the powers that be choose. I did bring a knife to a gunfight” He smiles slightly and lets out a little chuckle.

Ezra watches you carefully, you look so tired, so small as you lean against the door of the pod his feverish brain seems to be attempting to soften a long-hardened heart. Still, he's not an idiot. “I'm afraid letting you in may be a detriment to my state of being, creature, you are indeed viscous and I'm not inclined to trust someone that murdered my acquaintance with so little hesitation.” He watches your eyes closed and for a second you look so hopeless but when they open, they've hardened.

“I could simply pull apart your pod from the outside, make sure you suffocate with me!” The last words come out in a shout of frustration. You bang your hand against the glass window of the door.

He glares at you, his voice low and menacing “I do not take lightly to threats, creature.”

This day’s too long, too hard, you've done too much. How many deaths? You realise that you can't kill someone for, sensibly, not letting you in. You laugh “I feel like the wolf at your door,” you sigh god your head hurts “There's no point!” you gesture, “Killing you would do nothing but damn me further I won't kill you out of spite. Fuck!” You glance and the dial on your arm,

6 minutes.

You turn away and sit, suit back against the door. It's as nice a spot as any. “I will choose to die here though I think, just as a reminder that you killed me when I fall through the next time you head out”

You chuckle at the macabre thought then turn off your radio and pull off the helmet.

3 minutes.

The final sun is setting, this really is Apollo's world and it is beautiful. The orange sky outlines the forest’s hands like an oil painting waving you off. Not a bad place to go at all.

2 minutes.

At least it's quiet.

1 minute.

Black spots are filling your vision, blurring out the beauty. Rude you think to yourself and you let out a delirious giggle.

The door behind you slides open and a strong hand grabs the back of the suite as you flop back, hauling you in, snagging the helmet and sealing the door. You don’t move, staring at the ceiling for a second breathing deeply.

Ezra drops heavily down onto the cot and watches you, you're quite something up close even covered in another's blood and your own, you're beautiful. He imagines this is what a witch would look like after a ritual, all blood and magic and secrets.

You open your eyes and peer up at him. “What changed your mind?”

He grins “Call it a reckless curiosity fuelled by this festering limb of mine.” He gestures to his arm.

It’s your turn to size him up, he seems to be looking worse by the minute and now slumped against the wall, you could probably just kill him and take what you need. Maybe you would if he hadn’t let you in. “Perhaps I can patch it up, I've got steady hands and too much experience with wounds from weapons” you struggle into a seated position with a grunt as pain flashes.

“You might as well have a gander, I'm afraid if left to my own devices I'll have to saw the thing off myself or else perish” He frowns down at his twitching fingers, “I do believe this may be my lowest point, little creature. I invite in trouble and then ask it for help? I have certainly had preferable days, for instance, when the ship I was presiding upon became infested with channel rats seems superior to today.”

You hum in reply not really paying attention as he continues to talk. Reaching for your pack, you pull out a pretty well stocked surgery kit.  “I'll numb it as best I can but it's not much”

“Anything that alleviates this agony will be a blessing little creature” You raise an eyebrow at him in acknowledgment, clearly doubting it as you hand him a tablet which he swallows. He pulls off his shirt and you examine the wound trying not to stare at his strong arms and broad chest. It’s a couple days old and badly infected, you’ll have to get out the rot before you can think of sealing it.

“Lie back” you tell him

“Perhaps in another situation your choice of language would be quite desirable” he smirks at you, not succeeding in disguising the worry in his face.

You sigh at the comment “Scream all you need but don't move”

That makes him chuckle, “You're a siren luring me in to slay me, aren't you?” His jaw clenches as you start cutting away the rotted flesh. It is slow work, carefully taking as little pink away as possible. To his credit he doesn't move a muscle and you know it must be agony. He talks the entire time, telling the tale of how he got himself shot in such a long-winded way you can’t tell the truth from the fiction. It seems to give him distraction though, so you don’t ask if he’s lying. As you close the wound with foam, he smiles at you, softer than before.

“Names Ezra, by the way.” Then he passes out.

He’s rather strange you decide, but most prospectors are. You’ve got to be a bit odd to spend your days nearly isolated on hostile planets. Asleep he looks peaceful, none of the calculating gaze or darkness. That little patch of blonde is so distinctive, you find yourself almost hypnotised by his face. Frowning at yourself you move away and sit back against the other side of the pod facing the cot.

A few things left to do with him unconscious, you pull off the stolen suit and grab the patch gun from your pack, melting it closed. You pull it back on and holster your pistol. Sitting back, you take a pill from your med kit to ease the pain in your chest and let it pull you into sleep.

Unsurprisingly, you wake before him. You check he's alive then pack your stuff together. You're even, you suppose. He saved your life. You saved his (or at least his arm) and you'd rather not stay around to find out if, when less fevered, he decides to get more even with you for killing his partner. He did give you his name though and names are powerful things so you pull out your notebook and leave a note as you grab an oxygen tank.

You glance behind you as the door seals behind you but you don’t turn back. If you head towards the ship your crew had brought down yesterday, it should have an escape pod still on it. Hopefully you can fix it up if needs be. You follow your compass East.

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra wakes slowly, he hasn't slept so deeply in years, he feels comfortable if a little cold and slowly he opens his eyes. The previous day returns to him in a haze, a pretty face and bright eyes glaring through the door, a gesture to old gods, his arm…

He looks down and moves his fingers. It's good, remarkably so, still stiff and aching but whatever you’d given him seems to have hurried his healing. That stuffs expensive. Not the sort of thing a prospector would usually have and certainly not something they'd share. You were quite strange, he concludes, but fascinating. Why on earth would someone who could act so brutally for their own survival give him something so valuable? Sure, he let you in but you certainly hadn't needed to let him know you had such a thing in your possession. He supposed guilt over his partner, perhaps you were truly naïve or, bizarrely, you could have money. Which would create a more baffling question of just how you ended up here.

It doesn't occur to Ezra for a moment the other reason, until he looks around the pod to find you gone along with a portable oxygen canister leaving a bit of paper in its place. Things stolen hold less value.

The paper was clearly torn from a notebook on it, it simply said your name.

He curses pulling on his suit and following your tracks into the forest. The trail is light but visible, branches broken where you’d passed, dry brush crushed under your feet. He moves quickly, sure of his footing after spending so much time navigating the dead forest. He’s only travelled about a mile before he can hear you moving ahead.

⧫⧫⧫

You walk through the trees, one sun shining above you warming your bones. As you check your direction you pause. A twig snaps and you freeze listening carefully. There's another noise behind you and you spin tensing. You can't see anything or anyone as you peer around you, the forest is too dense.

A body crashes into you from behind flinging you into the ground, looping something around your neck. Your head ricochets off the inside of your helmet shaking your brain, opening the cut again but not breaking the glass. You try to lurch up but get nowhere so you roll into your back with them now beneath you but the cord around your neck holds you back. Choking, you catch your fingers in it so you can breathe and pull forwards, hard, rolling again and thrusting your helmet back into theirs, loosening their grip enough so you can pull the cord away, only for them to shove you head down into the ground.

The world is swimming now, wobbling around you as you try to get your body to listen to you. To get away. To fight back. Anything! But their weight on your back prevents you from moving. You try to look out of the corner of your eye to see your opponent but get nothing. It surprises you when a tear tracks down your face. You suppose you have been putting off the inevitable for days now, Kevva has called you back.

Whoever it is clicks on your radio and a familiar voice hisses, “You stupid fucking cunt, I'm bringing you to hell with-“ A shot rings out and the body slumps on top of you, you lift yourself up and shove it off sitting up on your haunches looking around for the shooter.

It's him, Ezra, gun still trained on you. He watches you halt, eyes wide.

“You took something of mine, and although usually I don't go out of my way to find trouble, which you little creature certainly are. I awoke to find myself abandoned and a little peeved to discover that you had liberated a couple of my possessions and shimmied out of part of our prior agreement.”

Your heads still spinning and with the blood trickling into your eye you find it immensely difficult to focus on what he is saying. “Prior agreement?”

“Yes indeed. You'll find you had affirmed in exchange for breath you would fix up my little ship so when the time comes, I may leave this barely liveable planet. I do not appreciate reneging”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“On your feet creature,” he approaches, “I find myself growing impatient.” You stand and instantly stumble forward. He grabs onto your shoulder steadying you, his other hand darting out before you can relax and snagging your thrower from its holster. “I underestimated you once, I will not again. Now, your assailant seemed to know you, if I'm not mistaken, by the way they deemed to remark upon you. Pray tell me the tale?”

Looking at him you do feel a lot like prey. He's close, grip still firm on your shoulder and towering over you. A grin showing all his teeth like a wolf, all you would need is a red cloak and you’re dinner.

You glance down at the body and clench your jaw, it was Cora. Formally, a member of your crew, she had always distrusted you. Rightfully so, you think to yourself.

Steadying yourself you shrug off Ezra's grip, ignoring the gun still aimed at you and kneel down to pull off her helmet. Taking a coin from your pocket you place it under her tongue and look back up at him, the helmet still in your grasp. He's watching you curiously, seeming to be rolling words around in his mouth as if completely thrown by your behaviour.

“She was part of my crew, I was the engineer so the crash was my fault,” well that was definitely true.

Ezra chuckles darkly, “I'm not too sure I want you to repair my ship after all, creature. Your predilection for incident does appear wearisome.”

You tilt your head up at him, “See any other engineers around here?”

“I suppose you'll have to do, but I will be watching you mighty closely little bird, in case you decide to take flight again.” You frown at the new nickname but don't get a chance to argue as you both hear a horn a little way off. “Unfortunately, my shot appears to have alerted the ever-irritable locals to our location.” He grabs your arms and hauls you back to your feet pulling you along with him as he walks back the way you had come, Cora’s helmet still clasped in your hand. “Luckily the settlers are not quick on their feet, I must say.”

You can't think of a response, your head is still reeling and your feet feel like lead as you trudge after him, his hand gripping firmly onto your wrist.

You're grateful you hadn't travelled far when he tugs you into the pod. Closing the door and turning, Ezra finds you slumping down to sit on the floor ripping off your helmet and attempting to wipe the blood out of your eye. It feels a little voyeuristic as he watches you tug off the suit soaked with his partner's blood, revealing the black insulating vest and leggings beneath before flopping back eyes closed for a moment. You feel his stare and pointedly ignore it as you grab your own suit, abandoned the day before, and shimmy into it. Cora had the same suit and so her helmet will fit yours. You feel a little relief at no longer having to wear the blood of someone you'd killed, not to mention more secure in something that fits.

Glancing up at Ezra as you transfer your possessions between pockets yet again you see he's elected to tie his suit up around his waist revealing those damn arms again. He crouches down in front of you and gently grasps your chin to tilt your head up at him. “That's quite the cut you've got there little bird.”

He carefully watches your face but your head is still fuzzy so with no retort he moves away from you and picks up your med kit. He cleans your wound gently, wiping the dried blood off your face. As he does, you study him. Close up you can see the wrinkles around his eyes from when he smiles and the curved scar on his cheek. Fighting off the impulse to trace your fingers over it, you ask how he got it. He grins as he places a plaster on your head “Now that’s quite a story” but you don’t get to hear it yet, sounds outside means the settlers have found the pod.

“They'll leave provided they don't know we're here” He grumbles, tugging you into the cupboard running along the wall.

It’s slim but long inside, there are blankets on the floor, a lantern and a small stack of tattered books. “Do you sleep in a cupboard?” you have to ask but you do your best to keep the incredulity out of your tone.

“I'd rather you didn't insult my little burrow as a guest, there's only one cot in this pod and I lost the wager so I made do. I think you’ll find it’s rather cosy”

You nod, a little thrown by his change in attitude since being in the forest. As you both sit you watch his face in the golden light of the lamp. It makes him appear to glow, almost like a painting. He'd look almost relaxed if it wasn't for how his eyes were watching you carefully.

Ezra studies your features, if you hadn't been such a bringer of chaos, he'd think he'd made you up, that, or Kevva had reached into his head and plucked you out. You're just perfect, perhaps anything his own mind could come up with would have to come with chaos, there was no fun without it.

The quiet moment is disrupted by a bang on the side of the pod, you jump and Ezra tenses slightly but seems to be expecting it. “They're trying to frighten out anyone inside” he whispers, “If we stay quiet and hidden, we'll be just fine”

You nod and tilt your head back against the wall trying to block out the noise as Ezra reaches for the book at the top of his stack. You read the title ‘Perfume’, you haven't heard of it but judging by the battered pages and writing in the margins Ezra knows it intimately. He glances at you. “It is a tale of a man who gets so enraptured with the scent of a woman he endeavours to turn her essence into perfume.”

You hum in response “That sounds a little morbid.”

Reaching into your bag you pull out a similarly dog-eared copy of ‘The Power’ and do your best to ignore the man opposite you.

Ezra frowns at his book. It's not often a good read fails to pull him into its world but something about your presence has driven him to distraction. Instead, he closes the book and continues to study you, it's a nice change having a stranger in such close quarters. You're frowning at your book a little furrow in your brow he finds endearing. It's only then he notices you're shaking. He wonders if it's from the death of your friend, from the settlers’ insistent pounding on the side of the pod or from him. He supposes it's quite scary to be trapped in a small space with someone twice your size and he hasn't exactly been kind to you. Ezra frowns to himself, not that you've given him a reason to act kindly. You will be useful to each other but there's no point making friends on such rough terms.

You look up meeting his eye as he glowers at you and swiftly glance away, trying to take up as little space as possible.

“You said you came to prospect?” he murmurs to you. You look back at him, wide eyed, and nod. “Good, you can help me finish me dig, 60/40 split, since you so callously divested me of my partner.”

You nod “You ridded me of mine too. Looks like we're even again. Equal split.” He’s tempted to laugh at your boldness, negotiating with no leverage. He keeps his face stern, unwilling to let you know how much he is enjoying your spark.

“I don't think so.” he speaks lowly making you tense, “I will permit that without you my arm would be about as useful as stim gum is at staving off hunger. And at least to me my arm is equal to a partner.” He tilts his head at you, the light cutting plains across his skin, “Even so… we still aren't even. That’s twice I saved your troublesome arse. One could suggest you’re indebted to me.”

To his surprise you nod, even as your jaw clenches and he watches you swallow “I guess I'll have to make it up to you another way. Even split or I don’t dig” That breaks him, he can’t hold in his grin at your fearlessness. He strongly suspects you’ve had an abundance of practice getting what you're owed from characters more unscrupulous than himself. He frowns at that, even hardened prospectors treat him warily, there must be something else to you. He agrees though, more out of curiosity than necessity.

“Even split it is then.”

⧫⧫⧫

You both agree there's no point going out to dig with the settlers so close but after the noise has subsided Ezra looks you over and suggests you shower. You don't tell him what a gift that is but he sees how your eyes light up at the prospect of washing off the past days’ grime. He hands you a towel and as the water starts running, he distracts himself from picturing you naked by satisfying some of his inquisitiveness and going through your pack.

There's not much of interest. Your med kit, some protein bars, instant caf, ammunition but in the front pocket he finds an old ring. Round like a signet but instead of a family emblem it is simply a small coin, plated in gold. He studies it, it's roughly hewn, well-made but not particularly fine. He wonders if you stole this too, but it isn't flashy and everything else you've taken had been useful so he posits it is yours, but why don't you wear it? Frowning he puts it back as he spots a notebook, worn and well-loved but as he reaches for it the water shuts off and he leaves your pack, choosing to get nourishment for you both before you sleep.

You emerge dressed just in your leggings and vest, Ezra gestures to the seat noticing the bandage on your arm. “What did you do that your mystical little tablets cannot heal?”

You finger the material absentmindedly, “Oh it's an old wound I keep reopening, better to keep it covered to prevent infection.”

He peers at you clearly unconvinced but he doesn’t question you further, you avoid his eyes looking at the floor as he sticks some food in front of you. “Eat up little creature, we've hard work to do tomorrow and we'll need our energy.”

You take a mouthful before asking, “Where will we sleep?”

“Better we stay out of sight in case our hospitable friends return, so back into the burrow. And I'd rather keep you close in case you start to feel flighty again” You sigh but to his surprise don't argue, perhaps the settlers really did shake you.

Ezra returns to studying you as you both eat, without your suit on he can see the harsh bruises around your neck where your former friend had tried to strangle you but the gash through your eyebrow has stopped bleeding and fresh from the shower, you're quite the vision. It has been so long since he'd had another body to warm his bed and you look so soft and vulnerable without the suit and imminent danger, he finds himself picturing you under him, writhing, brow furrowed like before. His hands grabbing your arms, your hips, your neck- He shakes himself of the image. Your partnership is tenuous at best without bringing in the pleasures of the flesh and he doesn't really want to scare you off potentially leaving him alone and trapped on this world.

When you've eaten you head into Ezra's ‘burrow’ as he called it and settle opposite each other, legs stretched out in front, feet almost touching. Ezra is next to the door ensuring you can't leave without waking him but you're not inclined to try, you know your luck is running out. You're grateful he doesn't try to scare you into staying, instead curiously he picks up his book and looks at you. 

“I propose an exchange, it appears we are both almost prepared to recite our beloved tomes cover to cover, so, would you acquiesce your book for mine?”

You shrug, “I wouldn't mind something new but I'm not sure how much you'd enjoy ‘The Power’ and I have nothing else.”

He smiles his eyes crinkling with amusement, “Well then, read me the blurb and let me decide for myself. It seems only I would know what I may delight in.”

“It's about how women become the dominant gender in the world, told by a man in the future where a male dominated society seems absurd.”

Ezra grins, “I am intrigued! It'll be a joy to discuss books with another person, a pleasure I can rarely partake in”

You smile back as you swap books. A tentative exchange that leaves you both a little hopeful for the progress of your partnership.

You both read in silence until you yawn twice in a row causing Ezra to yawn too and he suggests you turn in. Or you guess he does, his choice of language seems to baffle you here and there. He wrangles a blanket out from under you and you settle in, top to tail, his feet level with your chest and yours to below his hip. You didn't realise how the adrenaline of the day had worn you out and you're asleep in seconds. 

You awake on your front, head nestled into your arm. It's pitch black and there's a weight on your ankle. Trying not to panic you wait for your eyes to adjust and peer over your shoulder to see what's grabbed you. It's Ezra.

Asleep on his back one hand on his stomach where the blankets had been shoved down and his under shirt had risen revealing a strip of tan skin glowing in the low light. You try not to focus on that. His other hand, by his side wrapping nearly all the way around your ankle. You wonder if he grabbed you awake to stop you trying to escape or if unconscious, he simply wanted to keep your warm body close, that idea makes you feel a little soft, this is easily the gentlest he's touched you apart from patching your head. You debate if you should shake him off but you don't want to wake him and his warm hand is anchoring so you just put your head back down on your arms and go back to sleep.

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra had his sleeping pattern nailed down, a necessary thing for a prospector, usually out cold for 7 hours so he's surprised when he startles awake. He doesn't usually dream. He grasps at the threads of images his mind had conjured committing them to memory. It was about you and it was enough to make him flush and now as he rouses himself, he gently detaches his hand from your ankle unsure about when he grabbed it. It's still early, he looks over you asleep on your stomach breathing slowly. He sighs adjusting himself in his pants if he can't get these images of his head, he's going to have an even more difficult time working with you than he already will. Desire is fickle like that he supposes, giving him a beautiful creature, he can't trust. One who is clearly concealing something and who certainly doesn't desire him in return. A beep tells him the suns are rising and you begin to stir

“Arise little bird, a day off struggle and fortune lays in wait.”

You grumble in return shuffling onto your back and sitting. Ezra tries not to stare as the blanket slips away revealing your body. To avoid further thoughts, he leaves his burrow taking his suit, subtly clutching it to his front so as not to alert you to his predicament, and heads for the shower to sort himself out, eternally grateful that the pod had connected to an underground lake making the water supply essentially infinite. Hopefully a brisk wash will clear his head and body of the lust.

You flop back and sigh. That damn blonde tuft and those sharp features were following you even into sleep. It had been far too long since you'd enjoyed another person and if it wasn't for the dilemma you were in, Ezra would be an easy yes. Broad and handsome and charming in a way that just spelled trouble, but your uneasy alliance, and your lies, and the fact that he could easily kill you make you especially wary of being vulnerable in the way you truly crave. Instead, you shake yourself, grab your pack, dig around for that terrible instant caf and leave the cupboard.

Ezra's shower was doing nothing for his erection. Feeling a little exasperated he grasps it harshly and tries not to picture you so vivid in his dream moaning around him. The water raining down on him acts as a lubricant as he harshly begins pumping his hand not wanting to take his time and fall into a fantasy of you. It doesn't work, he imagines how soft your hands would be, how wet you'd be, how he'd take you here up against the tiles. It's quick and dirty. He grunts, swears, then cums, the water washing the sin away leaving him panting and if anything, more frustrated than before.

You hear Ezra swear in the shower and wonder vaguely if he dropped something as you grab two mugs and start heating water for caf. The shower shuts off and you look round as he emerges with a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes are dark and he looks furious so you turn away and try not to think about how the water droplets on his broad shoulders shimmer as he disappears back into the cupboard.

Seeing you there, making you both caf, dressed in your underclothes sparked a craving of domesticity within Ezra. For the briefest moment you weren't a reluctant partner on a hostile planet, instead you were a lover he could wrap his arms around from behind as you giggle and try to get breakfast and it aches.

When Ezra re-emerges, dressed with his hair sticking in all directions, you've put his caf on the small bench and are sitting waiting for him. He sits too and picks it up.

“There's only a couple months left in the dig” he says, “You up to it? I will be displeased if you slow us down”

You glare, so this is what he's worried about, “Don't worry I've had plenty of practice. If anything, I'd worry about your arm!”

He grins at you “No need to fret little creature, I managed to do my job with a hole in it and with your miraculous medication, it is only a little unyielding.” He carefully looks over your face, “Speaking of, I would appreciate you being candid in not only the precise location you acquired such a potion but why in Kevva you deigned see fit to give it to me?”

He watches you chew on your words, “I relieved them from a man who sought to take from me, and I gave them to you to even my debt. You saved my life if I didn't give you one, I wouldn't have been able to save your arm.”

What a strange little thing, he thinks, so worried about balance, “Did you happen to also relieve this man of his life?” You stare into your cup and don't answer “Well if he sought to take from you, I'll assume it was just.”

You sit in silence as Ezra smoothly changes the subject and grabs a bar for you, spinning quite the tale as you eat. Not stopping for breath as you pull on your suits, boots and helmets, only pointing you towards the equipment you need to grab before opening the door and leading you back into waste.

Ezra hadn't given you back your thrower which you supposed was fair although he had left you your blade which you're sure he remembered you carried. Perhaps a little act of faith to gain your trust? It didn't hurt. 

As you approach the site Ezra looks back at you, “Stay close little creature we wouldn't want you to get lost.” His voice is low and threatening and sends a shiver down your spine that isn't entirely fear. You nod slowly and he grins, wolf-like just as before, as if outside you the pod he is an entirely different beast to reckon with. 

“I'll get in the pit and do the heavy lifting, you can treat and polish on the surface, we'll go for as long as we've got light and head back. It's gonna be a long day little bird”

The dig comes as a relief, the repetitive labour clears your head and Ezra seems to be filled to the brim with stories and anecdotes, although, you don't think you're actually learning much about him. The way he talks is open yet totally guarded, as if he has the compulsion to speak but the sense not to trust you. You aren't offended, it's not like you're exactly opening up to him either. The day passes quickly like this and as the sun dips too low to see well Ezra hauls himself out of the pit, tells you to pack up and you both head back to the pod to eat and sleep. You wake with his hand around your ankle again.

⧫⧫⧫

A couple of days in, the suns seem to be burning even hotter than before. The dig is gruelling and you’re grateful Ezra so far, hadn’t let you into the pit. You aren’t sure you could bear it in this heat. By the time you finish and return to the pod, taking off your helmet is a relief. You feel hot and sticky and bone tired so you plop yourself down into the cot in the main room still in your suit. Ezra chuckles, “You must be out of practice, else you'd still find these long days easy.”

Ah, so he is bringing it up. You raise your head to look at him, “I still kept up with you, didn't I?”

“True, true, although I am not functioning at full capacity at the present time.” He gestures to his arm.

You flop back and gaze at the ceiling, “Or I just survived a crash from space a few days ago and I'm still a bit worn out.”

That makes him laugh. It's a big warm noise, that makes you giggle too at the absurdity of it all. 

“Are you confident you wish to slumber there?”

“Why? You afraid I'm going to make another break for it?”

His grin is just a little softer now, “A little. But if I were you, I'd be more concerned about the neighbours might pop by.”

“Shit, alright” you sit up and instantly yawn.

“Let's get some food in you and turn in, little bird. If I'm not careful I'll have to carry you into my burrow.”

Smiling back, you mock him a little, “With your arm? I'm not sure you'd be capable.”

At that he grins and you realise you've given him a challenge he won't back down from. Stalking up to you like a cat he seizes you under the arms and hauls you against his chest making you huff and giggle as you try to wriggle free. He carries you across the pod like you weigh nothing and plonks you down on the little work bench. Hovering too close for just a moment too long, his breath ghosting your cheek.

“Now how about you keep your smart comments to yourself, lest I have to keep proving you wrong?” he smiles at you, letting you see the crow’s feet by his eyes. 

“I'll admit defeat this time I suppose, but you really should go easy on that arm!”

Ezra turns away from you, his heart pounding a little and reluctant to leave your embrace. Instead, he ignores the feeling urging him to clasp you close and grabs your food. As you slide off the bench and into a seat, he hands you a bowl. Neither of you attempt to meet the other's eye and both of you fail to see the flushed face of your companion.

Once again sleep comes easy, the hard work making your body crave rest to heal but even so in the dark you wake. There's no rush of panic this time instead you feel warm and sleepy as you glance at Ezra at the other end of the cupboard. He's not grasping your ankle instead his side is pressed against yours, leg to leg. It's cosy and in your half-awake state you don't think about how you had gone to sleep separated, and who had sought out whom in the black.

The next day goes much the same, you bicker before you head out deciding who should be in the pit and who shouldn't. Ezra concedes that he'll do the treating of the gems today if you keep alternating so neither of you gets too worn out. You agree though you point out yet again that he needs to go easy on his arm and he points out your bruises and gash on the head as hypocrisy. It's an argument with no malice and it feels refreshing to have a go at someone without worrying they'll get angry and shoot you. Although perhaps you should be more concerned by how at ease you are. If he was to see the scar on your arm, you doubt he'd be so understanding. 

As the day ends Ezra offers you his hand to pull you out of the pit, his touch lingering in yours for just a second too long.

⧫⧫⧫

Working like this you form a sort of routine. Up early, dig till you can't see, talk, eat, sleep, press together in the night. Ezra is starting to reveal little details about himself, where he was born, how he got into prospecting, his favourite books. In a way it makes you feel guilty for staying guarded, only relinquishing the barest details about yourself, but if he notices he doesn't point it out. 

A month passes like this and as you watch Ezra hop into the pit you wonder vaguely if he'll ever run out of things to talk about. He describes an incident where an amateur prospector managed to get his arm stuck in the pit resulting in its brutal amputation but your attention fails as you wait for the next potential gem and you look into the trees behind you. 

An uneasy feeling claws at you so trusting your gut you tell Ezra to shut up and get down out of sight just as someone emerges. No one you recognise, thank Kevva, and not a settler either. They are carrying a rifle though. Bowing your head to your work so they can't see your mouth move, you quickly describe what's happening.

“I can only see one, he's armed. A prospector. You stay quiet unless I shout.”

“Right then birdie. I await your call.”

You look up at the man staying on your knees and gesture your radio setting.

“What's someone like you doing out here all alone?” You repress a shudder at his tone.

“Same as you, I expect, making my way in the universe.” He comes closer and you fight the urge to back away but you don't want to draw attention to Ezra. “I don't have much to offer you and I don't take kindly to thieves.”

“Big talk from someone unarmed.” Wishing Ezra had given back your thrower, you stand and decide an attempt to bargain will be the best option.

“What do you want then, we can trade.”

“I'm not looking to trade anymore, I'm stuck here. My team's dead.” He levels his gun at you. “If you take me to your ship, I'll let you live for a price. Protest too much and I'll shoot and have my way while you bleed out.”

You gulp and stand starting to back away. Even with the element of surprise Ezra will have to act quick and be lucky if you both want to live. Why would he though, he doesn't have much motivation to risk his life for yours, he'll just have to hitch another ride. The man keeps moving towards you as you reach the edge of the pit, eyes not leaving your face and presses the gun to your chest. You glance down for a moment, hoping he doesn't look too, and see wide brown eyes and a miniscule nod. 

At the same moment Ezra reaches up, you drop back into the pit and land heavily on your back, winded. He slices across your assailants achilles tendon and grabs onto his leg pulling him in after you. Frozen in place, you watch the tussle, for the first time properly witnessing how formidable of a foe Ezra can be. His size and strength easily overpower the other man as he rolls on top, throwing down heavy blows that fill the air with the soft thuds of impact, like a heartbeat. A yell is cut off with a gurgle as Ezra shoves his blade into the man’s neck repeatedly, using his weight to hold the man down until he stills.

There's a moment before he turns, he lowers his head trying hard to calm his harsh breathing and sighs. “I do apologise little bird,” he turns to you scowl in place, eyes dark. “For my brutality, I'd rather you didn't have to bear witness.”

His voice is low and he's watching you carefully as you sit up. You feel lost for words at how far he'd gone to defend you, you wonder how close he got to becoming the man dead in front of you. Alone and cruel. All you can do is nod in response.

Ezra curses himself at how quiet you've become. Moving the body out of the pit had taken time and once done, as he watched you place a coin in his mouth, he'd announced that to continue the dig today would be futile with adrenaline running so high and at your nod you had gathered the equipment and headed back to the pod. He watches you carefully as you pull off your suit and decides that the fact you didn't just sprint for the trees after what he did was a good sign. But you continue to surprise him.

“Thank you,” you say softly, “For not letting him…”

“Nonsense, without the pleasure of your company I don't doubt my humanity would soon become as weathered as his own.” He frowns, “It was rather like being visited by the ghost of Christmas yet to come.” You tilt your head not really sure what that means but he shrugs. “Don't fret about it.”

Then there's silence as you watch each other. Lost in thought as you make your meal and eat.

Ezra ponders on the panic he felt deep in his chest at the waver in your voice. He wonders when saving you switched from utilitarian need to something more. He knows how stupid it is to get attached, how reckless. But your bright eyes and determination to stay alive were admirable and captivating and he craves to know more, what makes you laugh, how well you'd take him. He sighs and attempts to brush the lust aside. Even if you weren't terrified of him, he just knew you were concealing something.

The silence stretches out, both unwilling to break it, as you head into the burrow. For the first time, you sleep next to each other. 

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra is wrapped around you when you wake, safe and warm and comforting. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, its steady rhythm relaxing you before your brain starts whirring. Then you feel guilty, like you're taking advantage of him. He doesn't realise how much you enjoy him holding you close and you certainly don't deserve it. The weight of your lies heavy on your shoulders you ease out of his arms, careful not to wake him, and leave the sanctuary of the burrow. 

A wonderful dream slips away from him as he stirs. His little bird's weight in his arms, grounding him, giving him something to protect. Looking round for you and finding you gone, he swears and stumbles to his feet. Kevva, he hoped you hadn't left him alone.

He almost sighs with relief when he leaves his burrow just to spot you sitting by the window watching the suns rise, notebook in hand and mug beside you. You look up, a little wary of his wide eyes but shrug. “I couldn't sleep.”

“Me neither little creature, my dreams are haunted.” He picks up your mug and takes a sip, with a grimace he says “Can you truly enjoy something so acrimonious?”

You chuckle, “Habit I guess.”

“Well, it's certainly rousing” he smiles at you “What are you scribbling there?”

“I had a look round the ship, it's all the repairs I need to do.” You hesitate, “If we swing by the other crashed ship for a couple parts, we can be gone in two days.”

Ezra's eyes darken just a little, his voice low, “You wouldn't be trying to wiggle out of our agreement now? The dig isn't done and I demand satisfaction.”

He watches your mouth twist, “It's just I think our luck's run, the longer we stay the more trouble we're going to get like yesterday.”

“That cannot be helped, little creature. I'd like to live well for a while, and so, the dig must be completed.” You think to that other ship, there's immeasurable wealth on it but you can't tell him. Then he'd know what you were. So instead, you nod and start preparing for the day.

The change in your attitude has Ezra feeling nervous. He realises if he doesn't show a little faith, you won't feel safe and he'll lose you, and possibly himself. Just before opening the door to the waste, he turns to you, “Here.”

He's holding your pistol out to you, frowning slightly, you peer up at him “What?”

“If something like yesterday happens again I'd rather you be able to look after yourself,” you nod and reach for it but he keeps it in his grip for a moment, “Don't get any ideas” his voice is low and dangerous eyes hard on you. You swallow and nod shoving it into your holster.

To your relief the dig is quiet and Ezra has returned to chatting away to you from his perch outside the pit and eventually you're able to chat back making him laugh as the day passes.

There's a change between you, him trusting you to be armed has given you a chance to breathe, but, with that a new tension has come between you. One you're trying very hard to ignore. It’s crawled into your head and planted thoughts of closeness, of more, that you can ignore during the day but not at night.

After that day you'd formed a new routine. Going to sleep next to Ezra and waking up feeling secure in his arms before the guilt hits and you leave before he wakes. Not letting him know the comfort you've found there. 

⧫⧫⧫

Apart from the locals coming to bang on your walls every few days, weeks pass incident free as you both perform this dance around each other. Ezra finds that his cold showers are doing less and less to quell his lust, and heart is another matter entirely. So, he ignores it, treats you a little coolly, tries not to scare you off, it's getting more difficult now nearly every night he dreams of you. Sometimes it's lewd, sometimes you're chatting together, the worst are when he dreams he's just holding you. He might think it was real if not for how when he wakes up you aren't there.

Until the morning he wakes first. 

He's groggy, breathing deeply and so, so comfortable. It takes a moment to get his bearings. Shifting slightly, he realises how he's curled around you, hand on the strip of skin of your stomach where your shirt has rolled up, face pressing into the back of your neck and he has to fight the urge to kiss it. When you moan quietly, he props himself up on his arm looking down at you in the low light. For a moment he thinks you're having a nightmare but you flushed, breathing shallowly and he's certain you aren't. When you whimper, he shudders, such a pretty noise. He feels tempted to stay pressed against you, to touch you, to make you make more of those noises. He fights it off, and eases away from you stepping out of the warmth of his burrow. 

He thinks, perhaps later he can talk to you, there's nothing wrong with getting some pleasure and easing some stress in each other’s arms. There isn't long left of the dig and then you'll go your separate ways, the thought stings a little. He leans back against the door. Kevva, he craves more, he wants to learn every inch of you intimately, to learn what makes you tick, to wake up with you in his arms. It aches deep in his chest, so many years spent in poor company. He hears you moan once more and groans himself, pushing off the door he trudges to the shower.

For the first time in ages, he runs it hot before stepping in and grasping his cock. He lets himself take his time, starting slow, increasing the pace till he feels like he could explode then slowing right back down again. He doesn't fight off the images of you that spring into his head now he knows what you can sound like. He imagines you making them with his tongue on you, fingers buried in you as he presses you down, how you'd whine his name, how you'd beg. Ezra grunts, staving off his orgasm once more his cock red and throbbing with his heartbeat. He pictures sinking into you, hot and wet with you pliable in his arms as he fucks you into the ground. He cums hard with a growl and a curse and then curses himself both for being loud and for allowing himself to yearn for you, then finally he begins to wash.

⧫⧫⧫

You wake with a start, panting. Your dream is vivid in your mind. Ezra grasping your hands so you couldn't move as he fucked you with his tongue moaning against you. He'd talked too, both eloquent and totally filthy as he got you exactly where he wanted you. You huff, now you were left frustrated and still pining for a man who must just see you as a utility, a way to get off this planet. Hell, he barely even knew anything about you, didn't know the most important thing. But you know you can't stay in this limbo for long now, the digs nearly done and after then what can you do. There are two options, tell him who you are and how you feel and hope for the best or just ignore it, get off the planet, take your money, and go live the quiet life you'd intended. You focus on this debate and instead of the wetness between your legs as you leave the cupboard.

You look around for Ezra and exhale as you hear the shower running, there's no way for him to know what you were dreaming of, right?

That's when you hear him, it's a low, erotic groan followed by a string of swear words and you flush as you became achingly aware of how wound tight you are. You turn away and try to ignore it, heating up water for both of your cafs as the shower stops. 

As it brews the steel door swings open and Ezra emerges wrapped in a towel and glowering, you ignore his stare and the way droplets of water slide down his chest making you want to lick him as you hand him a mug. 

Ezra watches you gnaw on your lip as you look him over and can't hold in the grin at how frustrated you seem. He can't help but tease. 

“Did you have pleasant dreams little bird? You seemed unwilling to rise this delightful morning.”

His grin widens with your eyes as you look away “Err I don't remember… did you sleep ok?”

“Like I was in the welcoming arms of a lover” He doesn't miss your little inhale of breath, and he wonders how best to broach the topic of mutual pleasure with you. Perhaps it'll quell the urge to keep you safe in his arms.

The way Ezra is teasing you makes you think perhaps he can read your mind. As he goes to dress you make a decision, after the dig you'll explain how you really got here, explain how you don't want to leave him after the dig is done. And hopefully he'll be worn out enough that, should he decide you're too much of a liability, you can out run him.

As you head out an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, you tell Ezra as much but he just chuckles, “Perhaps you're still tired”

The morning goes smoothly, you're in the pit this time handing stuff out every so often to Ezra, his fingers brushing yours. Both of you work quickly, you puff, out of breath, as you stretch yourself up for yet another hand off. His ability to talk is once again surprising you. You laugh at his story despite the unease and the beat of the sun in your back and miss the delighted expression that crosses Ezra's face from your position in the pit.

Like a light switching, the energy shifts. You know there's trouble before Ezra mumbles through the comm “Little bird, stay down. Company approaches.”

Your blood runs cold when a voice responds, already on your frequency, a voice you know. “Greetings friend, we think you can help us out.”

Ezra eyes the pair in front of him, knowing you’d been made was adding a layer of worry to a tense situation, “I'll help if I can but, you're encroaching on my little territory you know how it is. I will be obliged to defend it”

You hear the pair step closer “Actually we're looking for someone,” your eyes slip closed as you stay stock-still, “See they greatly are responsible for our predicament. However,” the voice is clear like they already know you're here, crap, how long did they listen in? “If they were to help us find something we've lost. I can assure their punishment is… swift.”

You swallow as they step to the edge of the pit, Damon glares down at you “Hello darling, long time no see”

Ezra looks shockingly calm, still smiling as you glance at him, “Now then, that is not a polite way to address my partner.”

The other man scoffs, second in command Barlow, “Your partner? Back to your old ways I see.” He looks Ezra up and down. “You’re their type”

You think perhaps you see Ezra's jaw clench before he's grinning “It hardly seems fair for you to make off with my partner, does it? No, not without compensation which unless my ears deceive me, you can't give me without them.”

Before you can blink guns are drawn and you feel like a fish in a barrel, stuck in the pit without Ezra to pull you out.

“You don't know who we are, do you? I suppose in the suits you can't tell but I'd have thought with your… intimate relationship to our engineer you might have figured it out.”

Ezra’s gun doesn't waver for a second but his mind reels. The bandage on your arm, it couldn't be. Surely, he hadn't been so blinded by your company not to notice that. His eyes darken and he thinks, for a moment this man, Damon, realises he's going to die the split second before Ezra shoots.

Barlow’s slower, surprised at him for making the first move but despite his fumble this was a real stand-off. He meets Ezra's glare and they're frozen in time for a moment. Just as he watches the man start to squeeze the trigger and prepare to shoot, he flops sideways. Ezra swings his thrower round you see you, gun in one hand, body turned to the side, still poised from the shot neither of them had seen coming.

Ezra looks as surprised as you feel, even taking aim you hadn't been sure you should save him. But, in the second the men had forgotten about you, you'd let instinct take over and your instinct had chosen Ezra. You hoped it was correct.

Perhaps not. You watch as Ezra’s face darkens, his teeth bared as he levels his pistol at you. “Little bird” his voice makes you shiver despite the heat, “Be so kind as you toss your shooter up here. I think we will be having words.”

You can only nod, what can you do? He says he wants to talk so you'll talk, out of the pit. Where you can stand your ground. You swallow and throw your gun up to him. He gives you a curt nod picking it up and turning away. For a terrifying moment you think he's going to leave you here to die slowly but before you can beg him not to, he returns and tosses a pack down.

“Pack up your gear. We're leaving.” His tone leaves no room for argument so you pack away his equipment as quickly as you can and put it on as you wait and listen to him packing his own, wondering if the shots will draw more trouble.

After all the time spent getting used to his talking, his silence is terrifying. It allows you to think, to panic, to imagine the worst thing he can do. Probably leave you on this planet to rot or be torn to pieces by the locals. You squeeze your eyes shut at the thought.

“Come on now, your elevator awaits” You open them to see he's offering his hand down for you to grab. You do your best to ignore the pistol in the other as you grab a hold and scramble out of the hole you had been sure was going to become your grave. Ezra doesn't loosen his grip on your arm as he hauls you to your feet and strides away from the dig forcing you to trot behind him to keep up.

You stare up at him as he pulls you along trying to read his thoughts. He doesn't look at you scowling straight ahead, his grip vice like and bruising. You don't try to shake him off, you’re sure he's worked out who you are. Your former co-workers hadn't been subtle but you can't gage whether or not this is a walk to the noose.

⧫⧫⧫

Tugging you into the pod he releases your arm and turning to seal the door he finally speaks. “Take off your helmet” His tone sends goosebumps over prickling over your skin so you pull it off and go to set it down on the table. When you turn back, he's right in front of you glaring down eyes dark. It makes you feel tiny. “Show me your arm.”

His words are too concise, so abrupt you hesitate. It's like he's a different person, an enemy you aren't sure you should comply to. Ezra decides you're taking too long and seizes the top of your arms spinning you both around and pinning you against the pod's wall, knee hitched up between your legs keeping you in place. You squirm in a futile attempt to get away and gasp as he unzips the front of your suit and shoves it down to your waist. Ezra breathes heavily as he rakes his eyes up to your body to your face. Doing his best to swallow down his desire, he ignores your own heaving chest and grabs the back of your neck forcing you to look up at him.

“Little bird, take off that measly scrap of fabric and reveal the truth.” You gulp eyes wide fingering the knot of the bandage on your arm. Ezra gives you a little shake. “Do it now.”

So, you do, pulling apart the knot and unwinding it from your arm. You don't look at it, perhaps if you don't see it, it's not really there. Instead, you watch Ezra's face for his reaction, gleaning nothing as he releases your shoulder and grabs your wrist bringing it up for him to see clearly. His brow furrows as he inspects your forearm, a brand of three circles linked like a chain. Kevva, he'd hoped he'd been mistaken. You're frozen as his gaze returns to you, dark eyes furious he crowds around you, filling your senses, body pressing you against the wall. His leg shifts slightly between yours and you almost whimper.

“You've been dishonest, little bird, and I do not appreciate it.” Ezra feels at war, he's furious you lied but he understands why. He's fuming you had been running with a violent, malevolent group of pirates. He doesn't understand why you'd ran after the crash or why you'd turned to him. He wants to know what you have that your crew found so valuable. He wants to know how you're both so hard and so soft. All these thoughts rattle around in his head as he stares at you, your mouth slightly open and your lips wet, until he can only think about how good you feel pressed against him, how delicate you feel under the hand on your neck. How much, despite everything, he wants you. He doesn't notice how close he's gotten to you until he feels the puff of your breath on his face. And then you utterly surprise him.

You can almost hear him think as he stares down at you. You don't want to interrupt but his hold on you is drawing attention to his size, to how much strength and power he holds. It's like he's swirling all around you clouding your brain, filling it with him. So, you let yourself do what you want. You've got nothing to lose. Everything that's yours is in his hands and you can't bring yourself to care. He's leaning closer, bending so with his hand on your neck tilting your head up it's like you’re sharing breath. You close the gap and kiss him.

For a second, he freezes in surprise and then he's kissing you back. Harshly biting your lower lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth. It's desperate and rough and you lick into his mouth in response loving the low moan coming from deep in his chest. He releases your wrist and grasps your hip closing any distance left between you. He grinds into you, the leg between your thighs causing a delicious friction as you whimper into his mouth. He breaks the kiss and stares down at you for a second moving his hands to the bottom of your vest. At your nod he tugs it off and pounces back on you. He rubs his hands up your sides as he kisses you, loving the feeling of how big they are on your frame and how you gasp as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You wriggle against him trying to unfasten his suit and shove it down his arms. He obliges, stepping back he pushing it off and kicks it away leaving him in his underclothes, staring at you, pupils blown wide with lust as he takes you in. Then he's back on you, seizing your jaw and tilting your head up to look at him as his other hand tugs down the remainder of your suit taking your leggings with it.

Eyes look up and down your form, drinking it in as he reaches down to rub a finger over the wetness soaking your underwear. Your mouth drops open and Ezra seizes the opportunity to shove his thumb in your mouth, his grip adjusting to your chin. Smiling as you suck on it.

“Look at you” he coos dragging his nose into your cheek almost mockingly “On display for me, you look good enough to eat.” He punctuates this by biting your neck and pulling your thin underwear taut against your clit just enough you cry out and stand on tiptoe. He grins down at you as you bite down gently on his thumb and then pulls off your underwear letting you kick it aside before stroking his fingers across your slit so gently it makes you buck towards his hand. He moves his hand back to your hip, pinning you back to the wall as he pulls his thumb from your mouth and wraps his hand around your throat, not squeezing just resting there.

“I want you to stay still,” his voice is low and commanding so you nod. “Repeat it back to me, I want to hear you.”

You whimper, “I'll stay still” and he grins before bending to kiss and nip along your jaw above his hand as his other moves back down to your cunt. He circles your clit so gently it's like he isn't really touching you and just as he slightly increases the pressure he draws back. A needy whine falls from your throat but you stay still and he murmurs against your cheek.

“Good little bird, so wet for me. You're positively dripping,” and then just as slowly he eases a finger into. You cry out, so wound tight it's agonising, the contrast between how harshly he gripped you before against his irreverent touches now making you ache for him more than ever. “Sing for me little bird” he demands and then he's really moving, pressing his finger against that spot inside you that makes you see stars, thumb drawing circles over your clit making you moan so loudly it surprises you. 

Ezra watches the flush spread over your skin as your eyes roll back, he doesn't know how he wants you first. Just as you’re getting close, he realises. He wants you begging. 

He forces himself to pull his hand away from you and watches as you shudder with tension eyes opening to look up at him. “Ezra…” your voice is so soft he grins.

You watch him as he raises his hand to his face to lick your juice off it, sucking his finger with a pop. It's so erotic you can only whimper as he smirks down at you. You want to touch yourself, make yourself cum while he watches, but as you lower your hand down he grabs your wrist and moves it back to his shoulder. “Don't misbehave birdie, right now all your pleasure is mine.” You bite your lip.

Then he returns his hand to your pussy, this time shoving two fingers in pumping them as he rubs his thumb against your clit more firmly than before. Your body quivers but his hand against your neck keeps you in place as you moan desperately. As soon as you get close again, he slows down to a stop this time keeping you stuffed with his fingers as you try to get some friction. “Please Ezra,” the tone of your voice shocks you, you've never sounded so needy.

He moves his face away from biting your ear lobe to look at you, “Please Ezra what, little bird? You've got to be clear”

You can't stop the words tumbling out of you, “Please can I cum, please make me cum Ezra”

He smiles almost cruelly, “You sound so exquisite when you beg.” He starts working his thumb again, brushing his lips against yours. The hand on your neck finally starts to squeeze, turning you on more. “Do it again.”

You do, no power could stop you begging for him, saying his name like a prayer. And then you're cumming, your vision goes white as Ezra squeezes your throat firmly, cutting the blood from your brain dragging it out as he shoves a third finger into your wet pussy. 

Ezra swears he's never witnessed anything so magnificent. Your eyes rolling back into your head, mouth open and lips wet, unable to make a sound. How you soak his hand, how you tighten around his fingers. Now all he wants is to find out how many times, how many ways, he can break you apart.

When you begin to squirm, he reluctantly pulls away, you look up only to find he's pulling off his shirt and trousers. Your eyes widen as his cock springs free. You'd known he carried himself like he had nothing to be insecure about but Kevva… he's packing. It's huge and beautiful, slightly curved, a striking vein runner down it. You feel a little more breathless at the sight.

Ezra catches you staring and grins, pressing back against you, grabbing your arse and lifting you against him. You wrap your legs around him as he pins you up against the wall. His cock feels even bigger pressed against your stomach. Ezra grinds against you sucking marks down your neck as he notches himself at your entrance. You whine and claw his shoulders, he's barely into you and you're sure you've never felt so full. “Ezra” your voice is thready “Ezra I don't think you're going to fit.”

He coos in response thrusting shallowly getting slightly further in and making a cry out as you feel yourself drip around his cock. “Don't fret little bird,” he thrusts again getting deeper, kissing you, relishing the feeling of your heat around him, “I know you can take me.”

He thrusts decisively, bottoming out and pushing the air from your lungs. It feels like he's breaking you open, splitting you in two with his cock and you love it. Love the ache as you adjust, love how you can almost feel him in your stomach, love how he has you pinned to the wall supported by those strong hands and his body and totally at his mercy.

You can barely register he's talking as he grinds his hips against your clit. “... squeezing so tight around me. Never in all my time have I gotten so close to Nirvana.”

He waits until you've started to writhe in his arms, just add he'd imagined, begging for him to move. Then he starts long deep thrusts, interspersed by him grinding against your clit making you whimper and moan as you feel his cock drag across your walls.

“Kevva plucked you out of my head and sent you here for me. You're divine, exquisite…” you can't focus on the words, in no time at all you're cumming again. Squeezing him so tight he chokes on his words and kisses you deeply. He doesn't slow down or speed up, keeping his devastating pace until your body starts to relax. Then he nips at your jaw, hooking his arms under your knees and around your back, spreading his palms wide. He steps away from the wall and, slightly afraid he'll drop you, you grab the back of his neck, but you needn't worry. 

Now with you impaled on his cock suspended in the air by his arms, he truly begins to ruin you. Lifting you up and slamming you back he watches your cunt take him, watches how your breasts bounce, watches you throw your head back in a silent scream. He bites into your neck leaving a mark as he sets a brutal pace. Seeing you like this, feeling you like this, has stolen his vocabulary so he curses and growls as he watches, totally enraptured by how well you take him. He thinks maybe he tells you but he can't be sure.

Ezra’s still talking his sentences shorter but still as dirty, the way he praises you makes you moan and combined with his he is destroying you; you don't think you'll ever experience something this good again and then you don't think anything much at all. Just Ezra, his strength, his beautiful words, how perfectly he's fucking you.

Ezra knows he can't last much longer, not in this heaven but he's determined to make you cum again before he does just to feel it. So, he moves you slightly in his arms until he hits that bit which takes your cries even higher. He grins as you dig your nails into his shoulders, the slight pain both grounding him and making him lose his mind.

You feel so overwhelmed and overstimulated that when he adjusts his thrusting you can't help the few tears escaping as you wail. He just pulls you slightly closer and licks them up before staring down and watching how your pussy stretches to take him. You’re so close again you're sure you might explode if you don't cum, or if you do. And then you do, you can't even make a sound as your whole body goes rigid and Ezra doesn't stop pounding you. Instead, you hear him growl and curse and his thrusts get faster and shorter.

Ezra had never experienced anything hotter. The way you threw your head back and took it as he fucked you like a ragdoll. The feeling of you clenching around him. How you soaked him, the sound of your fucking would stay with him forever. And then he's cumming, he bites down on your shoulder groaning into your skin as he releases. His mind is wonderfully blank as he squeezes you against himself and fills you up with a dozen shallow thrusts.

He doesn't release you right away, just holds you to his chest as he turns to lean against the wall cock still in you. Blissful in the moments before his thoughts start buzzing again. When you can move you look up at Ezra, he meets your eyes, gaze totally unreadable. He reluctantly releases you with a groan and grabs his shirt as he kneels and begins to clean off your combined juices dripping down your legs. Seeing him on his knees taking care of you threatens to give you hope which you tamped down. He didn't know the truth yet and he had readily thrown you out once before. When he's done, he stands and tosses the shirt to the side, tugs on his soft under trousers as you pull on your own clothes. The silence feels like a giant pit between you and you glare at your feet unsure how to start this important conversation.

To your surprise Ezra gently pinches your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. “We've still got much to discuss, little bird.” At your nod he pulls your hand into his ignoring how small and delicate it feels and gently tugs you towards the burrow. He has to know the truth.

⧫⧫⧫

You sit next to each other, his back against the wall, you sitting forward nervously running your fingers over the brand on your arm. Ezra just watches you, waits for you to explain and hopes you aren't a threat he'll have to get rid of after you've shared such intimacy.

“I don't… I won't come off like a very good person or partner when I tell you this. So just listen… please?”

Ezra nods, “None of us can be considered a good person, our humanity is dependent on our survival” he sighs, “Spin your tale, I'll remain in silence until it's done and keep my judgement of our partnership till it's completion”

You swallow, “I fixed a ship, that's how this whole mess started. We were leaving a dig and something had gone wrong which would have forced us to land. But I suited up and fixed it in zero G. It was completely stupid and shouldn't have worked but it did and we made it back to the dock. It wasn't till we'd sold off all our gems and separated that I was cornered. Turns out the malfunction wasn't an accident and by fixing it I'd cost them a lot of money in what they would have stolen from us. They reckoned I owed them and… they aren't people you want to owe”

You close your eyes and Ezra watches you tense. He'd like nothing more than to pull you into his arms but as he reaches for you, he clenches his fist. He needs to hear you out.

“They went through the rest of my team to get to me…” oh, Ezra understands they'd totally isolated you. “Well, they worked out since I could fix their brakes, I could mess up the ships in ways that couldn't be fixed without an emergency landing. They branded me there and then. Didn't even tell me how long I'd have to work to balance what I owed; probably thought I'd be dead by then.” You look down at your arm and frown.

When you look back at Ezra, his eyes are sharp, watching you intensely. “That scars old, little bird, how long did you dutifully aid their robberies.” Robberies of prospectors, people like him, people who'd been like you.

You look away, jaw clenched, “Long enough for it to get easy.”

Ezra doesn't move behind you, doesn't speak. You can't look at him.

“And then I couldn't anymore, I saw what I'd become and I hated it.” Your nails dig into your arm. “No one's good out in the fringe. But I was worse. I can't make up for what I did… can't take it back, can't return lives, possessions any of that. But I could stop, bring my crew down too. We used a distress beacon to lure in the other ships and…” you laugh “This time as I boarded after dealing with the other ship. I dunno, I just snapped and blew our engine too.”

Your mouth twists at the memory, “The pilot saw and I… when I was done, I just thought one down. I didn't want to die myself, that’s the easy way out, so I did my best to pull the chutes, hoping I'd play dead and hitch a ride out. Well, you know the rest.”

You stare straight ahead as a tense silence follows not daring to see Ezra glare at you. You don't see his soft eyes looking you up and down, his mind reeling. Had he known this when you’d first met, he would have shot you without question and left you to rot, your presence nothing more than a risk to his survival. But now, you’d saved him, talked with him, he’d gotten to know you. How you drink your caf black saying you’re “sweet enough”, how you look in the morning, how you laugh, how you moan. He knows he can’t kill you now, but you are a threat. He doesn’t know what to do. “Why are they searching for you? What do you have that they want? Your friend mentioned something.”

You laugh humorlessly, “They don't know where the other ship crashed, I was in the pilot’s seat, so no one else could see it go down. Fat lot of good it'll do them wrecked here.”

There's a bang on the side of the pod, “Shite” Ezra mumbles, “Our quixotic friends have returned.”

⧫⧫⧫

The wait for them to leave seems to take hours, the silence making your heart pound and your thoughts race over what you can do now. Ezra will definitely want you gone, only a mad man would keep you around with your history. Perhaps back to the original plan, see if you can mend the other ships escape pod and get the hell off this planet.

By the time the locals have decided your pod is empty, your plan is set. You stand, not looking back at Ezra. “I'll get scarce, I know I'm a problem waiting to happen.”

You grab your bag feeling in the pocket for your ring, a memory of a home you can't return to, old gods you're no longer sure are there. You look down at it as you step out of the burrow not noticing Ezra follow. You shove it into your suit pocket.

He is stumped for words as he watches you grab your possessions that have become scattered around the pod. He sees how your lives have become enmeshed. Scraps from your notebook scattered around where you'd played hangman or left notes and reminders for each other, items of clothing he watches you fail to pack, that damn terrible caf on the workbench.

He's not sure that he'll ever get all the pieces of you out of the pod, out of himself. You're under his skin, the very smell of you making his heart beat with more determination. As you reach for your helmet, he grabs your hand and finally you look up at him.

“Don't leave, I don't want you to leave.”

It's so simple but it means so much more and he thinks you maybe realise as you look up at him tears in your eyes. “I don't want to go.”

And then he kisses you. It's slower than before but no less fierce sparking a deep need in your chest. Gently now, he pulls off your suit as if he's still persuading you to stay before running his hands up your arms and down your back and sides like he's memorising your shape. When he kisses you again it's hungry, intense, he's trying to put words he's afraid to speak into it and it totally wiped your mind as you let him pull you back into his burrow.

Then he's peeling all your clothes off you. His touch is irreverent like he's unwrapping a precious artifact. He tugs you to lie down and settles between your legs pulling off his own shirt. He balances his weight on his arm above your head to nip at your lips, you reach up to run your hands up his chest, feeling him shudder as you gently rake your nails over the skin.

His other hand is squeezing your breast and pinching your nipple before seizing your hip and pulling you flush against him. The friction of his trousers against you, combined with how he's surrounding you, invading all your senses, is overwhelming.

“You are something else entirely,” he's kissing his way down your body, sucking purple bruises as he goes, seeming determined to mark every inch of you. “I could travel the whole breadth of this hostile galaxy and never find a sight as breath-taking as you laid out before me, a divine meal worthy of gods”

His words turn you on more as his ministrations make their way down to your legs. He bites your inner thigh almost too hard, making you squeal and jerk away but he grabs your hips and pulls you back, laving his tongue over the slight indent left by his teeth. You don't know how he's done it, not hours ago he railed you into oblivion and somehow, he has wound you tight all over again. It's like he's playing an instrument, plucking your strings both hard and soft so you melt.

His eyes meet yours, dark and hungry and he holds your gaze as he licks up your slit, his tongue wide as flat. You moan softly as he smiles, “Straight from the source your essence is even more delectable.” He stares at your pussy, seemingly fascinated by how it's fluttering around nothing, totally rapt by a droplet of your arousal sliding its way down.

You whimper at him, and try to buck your hips in his grip, desperate for him to do anything other than stare. He chuckles at you, “So willing to give yourself to me,” then he spits on your cunt. You gasp, half from shock and half from how much it turned you on. He grins as you tense and dives in.

Ezra eats you out like water from a well after crossing a desert. It feels as if he's writing the words, you’re stopping him saying all over your clit as you cry his name. His eyes closed he reaches up and seizes your hands, pulling you closer and settling his elbows over your hips keeping you still and at his mercy as he moans against you. Your eyes close as you feel sparks travel up and down your spine as he shoves his tongue into you making you whine but then he pulls away. Rubbing his cheek on your thigh, his beard tickling you.

“I want you to look at me little bird.” You can't help but obey his command instantly opening your eyes to see his pupils blown wide as he smirks. “You'd do just about anything for me to let you cum, wouldn't you? Don't worry your pretty head. I want you to cum in my mouth.”

Then he's back on you, sucking your clit between his teeth, you gasp his name trying to squirm away. his eyes piercing you, his mouth on you, his hands covering yours, his arms holding you down. It fills your head with him totally overpowering you and then you cum.

You go totally rigid, you're still looking at Ezra but your vision has gone so white you can't see him, just feel him moan against your cunt as you soak his tongue. Even as you start attempting to twist away, he continues, switching between sucking and licking at you as his strong arms pin you down. You cry out at the overstimulation, shuddering from it, tears leaking from your eyes and in no time at all you're thrown over the edge again. Cumming so hard your mind is totally wiped of anything but Ezra.

This time he grants you a reprieve, sitting up he watches your chest heave as you slowly come back into your body. He's lost for words, seeing you like this is better than anything he'd ever imagined and he still wants more, wants to ring every drop of pleasure out of you. And when you smile up at him, totally blissed out and willing, he's sure he'd do almost anything to keep you.

He doesn't put it into words though. Instead, he crawls over you seizing your jaw “Open that pretty mouth little bird,” something about how you so readily obey him twists in his chest and makes his cock twitch. He ignores it and bends close spitting into your mouth. You can taste yourself in it and it sparks your desire all over again.

He can't hold in a groan as you swallow, still smiling, his head seems too empty so he kisses you. It's fiery, filled with lust as you kiss him back and wrap your legs around him reaching down to pull off his trousers, he pulls back to kick them away as his cock springs free, it's hot and red as you wrap you hand around it, not even able to meet finger and thumb and squeeze slightly making him growl and bite along your jawline. “Tell me little bird, what would you will me to do?”

You meet his gaze, “Fuck me.” he groans into your neck, “Please.”

He watches your face as he positions himself at you entrance, “Kevva,” it's like he's not really talking to you, “I've never borne witness to anything so magnificent as your perfect cunt soaking me,” he slowly pushes his way in. It makes you whimper and him growl and you watch the tension in his neck as he restrains himself from ruining you, “Fuck you're tight.” His language is getting simpler as he starts losing control. His soft eyes beg you to let him move as his jaw clenches and you can't help but give in. 

“Please Ezra, move! fuck me”

The noise he makes is inhuman as he starts drilling into you. He shoves one of your knees up over his shoulder, deepening his thrusts making you cry out as he shreds against your walls. All he can think is how hot you are, how wet, how tight, how perfectly you take him. He's shoving up against your g shot with every thrust, coarse hairs grinding on your clit, you feel totally at his mercy to do nothing but take it and it may be the best sex you've ever experienced, ever will experience.

He looks beautiful, your juices still glistening on his face, brow furrowed and eyes half lidded but so piercing you might think he was furious if not for how in-between curses he's describing you, what he thinks of you. You aren't sure he even knows he's talking and the need in his words drives you higher and higher despite how spent you feel, how much you don't think you can cum again. And then you do. Kevva the way you clamp down on him clawing his back makes him lose his mind, he shoves both your knees up to your chest bending over you to bite you lower lip. The change in angle adds more friction, his thrusts get shorter, faster. Ezra cums so hard he can't think, you watch his eyes roll into his head, the groan he makes cuts off his own speech as he shoves himself as deep into you as he can get and releases. 

Ezra’s ears are still ringing when he manages to roll himself off you. Both of you are panting, as you stare at the roof of the pod and try to muster the words. Naturally, Ezra succeeds first. “Little Bird, I didn't know experiences such as that could be bestowed upon men like me.” You can only make a little noise in reply as he takes your hand and silence falls again.

Finally, when your breath is caught and you can both think again, he pulls you to his chest and wraps his arms around you resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Little bird, I'm starting to agree our dig may be bust. Trouble is biting our ankles and I should have listened earlier. Let's pillage what we can to fix the pod and get going. The dig is almost done, even split it'll be a while before I need to pick up another job.” You feel a sting at how quickly Ezra had returned to talking business but you do your best to brush it off. There's nothing wrong with some shagging between friends and it's no reason for him to feel the same fluttering in his chest that you do in yours.

“Right then we should travel light, get everything we need and come back. The fix won't take long, we can be gone in two days.” Two days left with Ezra makes you feel a little sad, you suppose you'd just gotten used to his company.

Ezra smiles grimly, “If we're lucky.”

You turn and roll over enjoying how he follows, wrapping you in his arms, tangling your legs like he can't bear to be separate. “I do have a question for you if you don't mind?”

You shrug, “Depends what it is.”

“What is that strange ring you carry but don't put on.”

“It's… it was a gift when I left home. It's supposed to be my payment.”

Ezra's mind casts back to how you paid honour to the dead, even those he certainly didn't think deserved a boatman. Saving them from a potential purgatory. But you didn't wear yours.

“Little bird, forgive my bluntness but curiosity is driving me to ask. Why don't you wear it?”

You squeeze your eyes closed, forcing away images of your past, grounded in Ezra's warm grip. “It's,” you sigh, “It's just too heavy.”

Ezra can feel how tense you've become and fights off the heavy guilt threatening to settle in his chest. You think yourself deserving of the hundred-year wait wandering the shore, think the loneliness is just. He kisses the back of your neck. “We should let our dreams take us lest we attract more trouble. It is salient we are well rested.”

You sigh, relaxing against him despite yourself. Long since exhausted by the day and his attentions, you let yourself drift off. Faintly feeling a hand caress your cheek, but you could have imagined it.

⧫⧫⧫

Waking up with someone warm in his arms is something Ezra could get used to. He tells you as much but you brush it off, someone isn't necessarily you after all. Ezra talks as you pack but he avoids the subject of you, of you both. He didn't want to scare you off, he tells himself, his flighty little bird. But he knows he's lying to himself, just being a coward, afraid of your reaction. He avoids meeting your eye until, helmets on, you both stand by the door. Taking a moment of peace before heading into the waste. He takes your hand seeking reassurance as much as trying to give it. You meet his eyes looking a little afraid but determined. He squeezes it tight before letting go and opening the door.

The walk East is easy enough, a pretty straight shot over flat ground. The only real problem being navigating the increasingly dense petrified forest. Ezra talks continuously, but you're grateful, glad it isn't awkward between you and enjoying his descriptions of other worlds he's visited. Where instead of breathless death and grey, there's vivid greens and blues of plants and flowers. Where the beauty is just as dangerous as this blank world. And, slowly, you start to talk too. Really talk. You describe a world that, to you, had seemed to be entirely made up of a casino, and the trouble you had gotten into there.

“Too rich for my blood,” Ezra chuckles and you agree.

You don't tell him about your home, not yet. But being able to talk, to laugh about something you'd done, feels freeing. Like a weight has been lifted ever so slightly off your shoulders.

You’re both grateful the walk is uneventful but you can't relax as the looming silhouette of the other spaceship appears through the trees. It's still too early for hope.

As you approach you see that the crew had successfully pulled their parachutes, but too late. The side of the ship had caved in where it had skidded across the earth, giving you both a way in. When you stop Ezra’s looking at you, “Any chance of survivors, little bird?”

You just shrug. “I doubt it after this. They were running a skeleton crew.” You wince slightly at the double entendre, hoping you have the time to find their bodies and pay their dues.

Ezra raises an eyebrow at you. “On a ship this big? That is most peculiar.”

“I guess, I didn't get a chance to think about it at the time.”

You go over the list again, 5 items, 5 areas. All small enough to carry in your packs. To yourself you add another item, just in case you get the chance.

“We stick together, watch each other’s backs.” You nod in agreement and you both step into the ship.

⧫⧫⧫

There's a faint dripping noise, like a clock ticking. It sets off your nerves as you leave the light of the suns. Inside is cast in red, a good sign the electrics haven't been fried, but totally unsettling. It casts humanoid shadows across the grated walls seemingly flickering with every step. Ezra had gone totally silent but his presence behind you is reassuring. Together you pry open the first door.

Inside has the same red light but the weapons board flashes at you telling you it's still live which is strange. You mumble it to Ezra. “These things usually shut down first after a crash, they drain loads of power that's usually diverted out.”

He frowns at you. “Mayhaps a malfunction? It looks like a rough crash.”

“Yeah. Probably.” But it niggles at the back of your brain. All you can do right now is ignore it so you wrench the panel out from the wall to the side and stick your arm in. Feeling around, you brush your fingers up against the dotted cylinder you need. These old ships had a habit of hiding important components in baffling locations, apparently to protect them in a crash which you do suppose this has, but you suspect it's to confuse novice engineers and pillagers alike. 

Ezra is keeping a sharp eye on the door but he can't help but enjoy watching you work, grumbling about what a stupid place this was for a fuse break and how it would have been harder to wreck their engine had it actually been where all the ships power came from. He grins at you and you smile back tugging the, whatever it was, out of the wall. He tosses his pack over to you.

“I'll get this one birdie,” making you roll your eyes but you gently place it in and hand it back. 

“Take care of that.”

“I'll cradle it as if it were a new-born.” He says so sincerely you can't help but snort.

“Don't worry too much, ships like these are made hardy, they don't just fry things like your pod.” He scowls playfully at you as you head back to the corridor.

“I will not hear a negative word about her, we've been together for years.”

The ship groans around you as if it's a living creature as you head deeper in. The maze of corridors makes Ezra feel turned around but you seem to know where to go and he follows dutifully. The next stop is a storage closet smaller than his little burrow.

Inside is a collection of boxes from which you produce two tiny discs. You look at Ezra, “I doubt they'll mind me taking a spare, these things are expensive.” Still not being entirely sure what everything you're searching for is, he just shrugs,

The moment of ease sputters out when you enter comms. There's a buzzing that sets your teeth on edge, someone's been on the radio. Ezra clicks it off but the silence is suddenly oppressive. Trying hard to hear any sign of life you scan the dark corners of the space. 

“We don't know how long this has been on.” Ezra’s voice is steady but there's an edge you know too well. You agree all the same, hurrying to rip the tubing out from under the console. The blinking lights shut off with a hum as Ezra takes it from you, looping it together and shoving it into his pack. You don't argue.

Two items left, you'd saved the cockpit and the engine till last, both at the opposite end of the ship. 

The door to the cockpit is open. you look at Ezra, his jaw is set glaring into it. You head in first moving swiftly to the control panel to the side to start pulling the whole thing apart for one measly chip. He disappears into the shadows to search the room. It's too big, too many places to hide, he thinks to himself trying to picture the best place for an ambush.

He finds one body, curled in on itself as if tossed into the corner. The next is under a nav table, arms over its head. The final one is the hardest to look at, in the pilot seat, hand still grasping the parachute release. He swallows as he takes in this futile effort to survive, picturing the final moments as the ground rises to meet them, the hopelessness.

He spins when he hears your voice.

“Wait, wait!”

“You should have stayed away-“

Ezra doesn't even think, he just shoots and the man with a blade at your throat drops. He didn't even know he could draw that fast. He fights off the adrenaline, calming his breathing as he approaches you. Your eyes are wide with shock and you take a deep breath looking up at him.

“Thank you, Ezra.”

He just wants to pull you close, hold you against him, protect you with his body. With the suits and helmets, it would be uncomfortable so he grabs your hand and pulls it to his chest.

“Think nothing of it.”

“I didn't think there could be any survivors.” At that he examined the body. Shit, the suit, the emblem, the skull etched into the glass of his helmet.

“That, little bird, is because there aren't any. It appears that the locals are here.”

You squeeze his hand. “We've got to hurry.”

He nods, “Give me three coins.”

He’s found them. You'd already known they'd be dead but the confirmation sits heavily over you. You hand him the coins.

“You finish here, I'll take care of them. Don't worry.”

The kindness he's showing by doing it for you aches in your chest. You take the frustration out on the unsuspecting control panel. Tearing into it, pulling parts out, desperately trying to get a grip on your emotions and breathe a sigh of relief when you emerge, chip in hand. No one has ever extracted one so quickly you reckon. You shove it in your pack.

Heading to Ezra you take his hand, try to convey thanks through the touch alone. Thanks for saving you, thanks for not making you bear this burden solitarily, thanks for just being company after so long alone. You look up at him, he's chewing his words again but doesn't speak so you turn and lead him out.

In the engine room you seize a battery and yank it from the wall, grateful the lights stay on. Ezra takes it from you. “Don't argue birdie I'm bigger than you.”

He's cut off by a horn echoing through the ship. You swallow. 

Taking his hand again, you both creep out of the room. Every sound is too loud, you curse your boots, the rattle of your tools, your own harsh breathing. You can't fail now, you're so close. At the sound of footsteps, you pull Ezra through a door into a room with bunks, closing the door as quietly as you can, you both hold your breath. As they pass the door his grip tightens on yours so much you feel the heat of his hand through your gloves. His eyes scan your face, like he's trying to memorise what you look like. You realise you’re doing the same to him.

When they pass you glance around the room as Ezra slumps against the door his eyes shut tightly. As you let go of him you see something in the corner of your eye. No fucking way. It's a gem case, unassuming on the outside but far bigger than the one Ezra carried. Item number six.

You shove it into your bag.

⧫⧫⧫

Neither of you seem to breath for the rest of your journey through the ship. Eyes and ears too peeled to do much else. The second you see the light outside you swallow. You say a prayer to yourself as you creep towards it.

The light blinds you as you step out. Something shoves you to the side, you hit the ground hard knocking the wind out of you as you try to see what hit you. The second your eyes adjust to the light you see Ezra trying to knock back one of the locals, trying to gain space to draw. You wrestle your pistol out of your holster and aim but you can't shoot. Their dance is too close and you're afraid to hit Ezra. 

It all happens in slow motion. The stranger thrusts his spear into Ezra's stomach and pulls it out. He cries out stumbling back giving you a straight shot. You fire the same moment as the local brings his spear down on Ezra’s helmet.

You shoot too late. 

Ezra drops back against the ship sliding to sit. Shattered glass glitters over the ground around you threatening to cut your knees as you crawl to him. His helmet is shattered.

“No no no no no” you press on the wound in his stomach tugging your pack off your back to get the med kit. “We've got to go, there's going to be more of them.”

He puts a hand over yours. “Little bird, I'm afraid my adventure has come to its conclusion”

You look at his face. “No Ezra! I can close this for now, we've got time. We can make it back.” His eyes are wide and sad, wet with the threat of tears. “Don't look at me like that!” There's desperation in your voice.

“You've got to go. Relieve yourself of my burden, you can repair the vessel and get away by yourself. You don't need me.”

“Shut up! I can't just leave you here.” You push his hands away and pull out a gun of sealing foam “Don't fucking argue with me, we've got so close you can't just give up.” Ignoring his arguments, you press the nozzle through his suit and fill his wound. He lets out a groan. As quick as you can, you pull your pack back on and stand seizing Ezra's arms and heaving him to his feet. He gives a short shout of pain but doesn't protest as you hook his arm over your shoulder for support.

You start to walk like this as the suns begin to dip. Keeping your pistol in your free hand you scan around you. The dead trees provide good cover but they also give any attackers the element of surprise so you do your best to listen out whilst you support Ezra.

It's a little difficult with his talking but you can't complain, not when it means he's still alive. But he's getting heavy, putting more weight on you, you don't know how long you can hold him up. Just as you're beginning to feel truly weak his topic of conversation changes.

“Little bird, it has been an exponential honour to be enclosed within your company. To have your trust if only a little. Kevva, the chance to learn your body the way I got to was a treasure worth more than any gem I could find. I only wish I could learn your mind just as intimately, to possess the knowledge of what makes you laugh, cry, your favourite food, favourite music. I'd cherish every drop of yourself you'd let me have until I could carry a vault of you with me”

“Ezra, don't…”

“The opportunity is being stolen from me, I both resent it and I'm so grateful for the time I've had. Little bird, don't let my soliloquy deceive you. I mean every word.”

You can't stop moving, but you grab onto him a little tighter. Letting yourself squeeze your eyes closed just for a moment to fight off the tears. There's no guarantee he'll survive, no hope yet, no point admitting feelings just to let him die. It would hurt too much.

You keep walking. Reminding Ezra to breath as slow as he can. Holding yourself together just to keep him upright.

Then you see it, your pod, through the trees, dark against the burning red sky. 

There are two locals at the door. They turn.

Before you can think to react, Ezra pushes you aside as a spear careens where you'd just been stood. Drawing before you can blink, he fires twice. The locals fall. And then, so does he.

⧫⧫⧫

You aren't sure if you're saying his name out loud or just in your head. You roll him into his back and try to shake him awake. He doesn't even stir. 

Instead, you seize the straps of his pack and use them to drag him towards your pod.

Your muscles are screaming after supporting him for so long but you don't let up, drawing strength from who knows where.

How did the pod seem so close minutes ago? Now it's miles away.

You don't know when you started crying.

You don't stop moving, can't stop until you've managed to pull him inside and seal the door. You yank off your helmet, tossing it aside and falling to your knees next to him pressing your ear to his chest, desperately trying to hear his heart through his suit.

It's dead silent.

That's when you scream. Tears streaming down your face you bring your fist down on his chest as hard as you can.

“Breath you bastard! Take a fucking breath!” You're sobbing now, “You can't just leave me here, leave me all alone. Not after all this. Not when we got so close.”

You curl over him pressing your face to his, your tears dripping onto him leaving tracks through the dust and blood on his skin. “You can't leave me alone,” it's barely a whisper. “Ezra.” You say his name over and over again like a prayer.

And then his chest moves. 

You don't know whether you should laugh. You just keep bawling as you tear off his suit and grab his hand.

He doesn't wake up but it's enough, you squeeze his warm hand for another second before wiping at your face and getting your med kit. “Let's see what I can do about this wound hmm?”

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra hears someone calling his name. But they seem so far away. He tries to move towards the voice but it's like moving through syrup. He lets himself sink back.

⧫⧫⧫

The wound is deep and spurts with blood as you pull out the foam, painting your hands in the same red as the sky outside. Pursing your lips, you apologise to him, hoping he doesn’t feel the pain. Cleaning the wound takes time but as far as you can tell the spear managed to avoid all his organs so you seal it up as best you can. The lack of oxygen is what has you truly worried, who knows what damage could have been done in the time it took you to drag him to the pod. With your medication he might heal but you can’t be sure. You fight off the thoughts of what you’d have to do if he never did wake up. Would you be able to bury him?

You sleep curled to his side, a hand on his shoulder. It’s fitful, plagued by nightmares of waking up to find him cold. Every time you wake up crying, you watch his chest rise and fall and pray, he’ll make his way back to you.

⧫⧫⧫

The next thing he hears is a clang followed by a curse, then it's silent again

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra made it through the night. To distract yourself from worrying he might never wake, you wrap him up warm and begin to repair the pod. It’s slow work but its methodical movements help regulate your breathing. Until you hear a grunt. You drop whatever you were working on and swear to yourself as you kneel by him. But he’s no more present than before. Perhaps you had imagined it. Prayed so hard you’d began torturing yourself. You look over him, how could you go on without him. No one to make you laugh, or care what happens to you. It’s justice you suppose, just another thing for you to feel guilty about. You suppose you’ll go on just to keep feeling that guilt.

Again, you barely sleep.

⧫⧫⧫

And then, as if surfacing from a dive, Ezra opens his eyes. His back hurts. He works out why as, slowly, he identifies the ceiling above him. He's lying on the floor with nothing more than a pillow and a blanket that's been tucked all around him up to his neck. He wrestles his arms free, stretching them above his head and then prodding his stomach, it's tender but the wound is closed. Then he sits up with a grunt.

You're stretching up to try and pull a ration bar of the top shelf of your measly kitchen cupboard. You swear and turn to find something to climb on and then you see Ezra.

He's sitting up, grinning from ear to ear. You nearly jump a foot into the air and then you’re frozen to the spot. He chuckles to himself and clambers to his feet, it looks difficult but you aren't sure you can move to help so you stay put as he supports himself along the wall and approaches you.

“Little bird, you are the most incredible, fascinating, stubborn creature I have ever laid my eyes upon.” And then he's pulling you into his chest, wrapping you in such a grip it's a little difficult to breath but you don't mind. You just hug him back, if gently, very aware of how he'd recently been stabbed. He buries his nose in your hair. “How long was I out?”

“Three days, I managed to melt down some meds to inject you so you… well, so you actually healed. Oh, and then I fixed the pod but it didn't feel safe to take off what with you having a hole in you.”

He laughs, you can feel it rolling through his body and it makes you grin. It's so alive.

“May I also ask why I was on the floor?” That's your cue to laugh to. 

“Do you honestly think I could lift you onto the cot?”

“Frankly little bird, I didn't think you could have got me to the pod. You are certainly a force to be reckoned with and not one to be underestimated.”

You close your eyes and breath him in. “I almost didn't make it.” He just shushes you running his hands up and down your sides.

“No point wondering what could have been birdie. You saved me.” You look up at him, his eyes are wet as he smiles down at you. “What I did to deserve it may evade my knowledge forever, but it must have been spectacular.”

You feed Ezra and then force him to stay still for the day. Even as he protests you don't really think he minds, finally getting an opportunity to finish reading ‘The Power’. You sleep curled into his side.

The next day you leave.

⧫⧫⧫

Two days floating in space before the station slings back to pick you up. The sense of relief is immense. Ezra is in the seat next to you, any other person telling such a graphic tale about a flight home wrong would've sprung anyone with nerves but you just grin. You made it, you both made it.

“Even split, little bird? Although, I can't say I find the idea of us separating particularly appealing.”

You grin, “Me neither, although I do maintain the even split, you save my arse, I save yours.”

He smirks, “I'll have your arse anytime” you smack his knee with what was formerly his copy of ‘Perfume’. He scowls playfully, tossing his own book aside and tugging you into his lap.

And then looks totally bemused as your mouth drops open, “Holy shit I can't believe I forgot!” You hop off him and he grumbles at you but watches curiously wondering what you'd forgotten that was so important. You kneel to open your pack, pulling out a gem case. A huge gem case.

“Where in that abhorrent hell did you manage to acquire that?”

“I think it was why I was told to bring down that ship, I picked it up in the bunk room.”

It's locked but you happily spend the next half an hour gently taking apart one screw at a time. Ezra watches you the whole time, not even thinking about your bounty, just enjoying how you hum to yourself and smile every time a screw comes loose, batting his hands away every time he grabs at you. It's domestic.

You meet his eye as the last screw comes loose and he joins you kneeling on the floor. “Let's not get our hopes up” you say, “We've got more than enough to last a while whatever happens.” He nods and you pull the case open.

His jaw drops. “That is remarkable.”

You meet his eye and laugh. You've never seen him look so surprised. There are three gems inside, each one about the size of your head.

He lets out a huff of laughter “I’m beginning to suspect there was nefarious business afoot on that ship…”

“Ezra?”

“Mmhm?”

“I think I'd like to go somewhere with a sea.”

“Little bird, I suspect that can be arranged” Then he kisses you, pulling you against him.

You wriggle back, “Even split?” He just grins and bites at your ear.

In no time at all you’re in his lap as you pull off each other’s clothes. He rubs his beard against your bare neck to make you giggle as he nibbles it, hands roaming all over you. You nip his collar bone making him groan, it flips a switch in him and seconds later he’s grabbing your hips to position you over his cock.

He lowers you down so slowly it makes you squirm and whimper and beg him to move.

He grins at you, catlike, “We’ve got all the time in the world, little bird. And I intend to use it”

⧫⧫⧫

Hours later you wake. Ezra is snoring quietly into your neck tempting you to rouse him. You’re thirsty though, so, reluctantly, you peel his arms off you to get a glass of water. As you return your toe catches on your suit where it lies on the floor. As you reach to move it your ring drops out of the pocket, clinking quiet onto the ground.

You bend to pick it up and look at Ezra, then back at the ring. Had you not gone through all those years in that gang of pirates, you’d never have found him, never got to save his arm or his life. You both might be dead. You had been right; you couldn’t change your past. But you’d never know what else might have happened. There’s still guilt, there always will be. But you feel a little lighter.

You put on the ring and return to Ezra. He pulls you against his chest without waking.

You smile.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @engineeredfiction @mothandpidgeon @sleep-tight1

[buginateacup]

A little ficlet I may put on AO3 later, but for now blame @ejga-ostja for the prompt. “what if hot shameless flirt turns into soft nervous I like you actually“

~~~~~~~~~

"I'm afraid this will be the last time you'll be hearing from us Miss Ritchi!" Megamind shouted glibly as he rolled over to the control desk.

Roxanne rolled her eyes, "Oh yeah? Why's that? Finally going to take me out with your big powerful...” She smirked, “Laser?"

Gloved hands slammed down on polished steel as Megamind stood with his back to the battle deck, "No Miss Ritchi," He said quietly, then turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder, his voice slipping once more into Evil Supervillain Monologue mode, "No I think you'll find regardless of your superhero boyfriend coming to rescue you today or not, this will be the last you'll be seeing of me," He paused, "At least until I defeat Metro Man and take over the city of course,"

"Oh sure," Roxanne rolled her eyes but his face was uncharacteristically still. She stared at him, "You're serious?"

"I am."

"What. Why?" She demanded angrily.

"The reason is none of your concern-"

"Like hell it isn't!" She snapped, "Are you replacing me?"

"This is not up for discussion Miss Ritchi,"

"You are!"

"I am not!"

"Then why?"

"None of your business!"

"Fuck you! You've been kidnapping me for how long now? Don't you dare kick me out of the game without an explanation," Her eyes were furious, "You owe me."

Megamind looked away, then down, then up as though he was hoping he might get eaten by a stray murder of brain-bots and not have to explain himself. Finally he sighed, "Because I have found, Miss Ritchi," He clasped his hands around his elbows and paced back and forth, "That it is surprisingly difficult to threaten someone with certain death when you don't-" His mouth worked for a moment, "-don't actually want them to come to any harm." He stopped pacing, cloak sweeping around his ankles and faced her, arms crossed defensively in front of him.

Roxanne scoffed loudly, "Oh that's bullshit! Come on you don't even..."

His face was very grim, mouth pressed flat and he looked like he'd currently rather that he was the one tied to the chair surrounded by flame throwers.

Her eyes went very wide, "...like me?" She whispered faintly.

Megamind threw his hands up, "You couldn't have waited til after you returned home to figure it out? No of course not you've always been too smart by half."

He stalked around her chair and there was a twist at her wrists before he danced back frantically, "You might as well go home Miss Ritchi," He hugged the edge of the light, as far from her as he could manage and still be in the same room, "I imagine there's no chance of you being willing to stick around now,"

Roxanne stood cautiously, rubbing feeling back into her wrists, "I uh...I can go?" She was still reeling from the apparent confirmation that the supervillain who kidnapped her on a regular basis had a soft spot for her.

"Second door on the right, left past the speeider bot." Megamind gestured towards the shadows, "If you find the alligator tank you've gone too far," He went back to staring at the floor.

"Okay, um...thanks?" She took a step towards the direction he'd pointed, then another.

"Don't mention it," Megamind stayed over on the far side of the room, focused very intently on the toes of his boots, "Please don't mention it," He added in an undertone.

Roxanne reached the edge of the lit area, one more step and she'd be past the doorway and on her way out of the lair. "I'll see you around?" She called awkwardly and winced as her voice echoed around the room.

"Oh yes just you wait I'll have control of this city soon enough," His voice was very flat.

Roxanne cast a god help me look up towards the ceiling and turned and walked back towards Megamind, stopping a good three feet away from him, "Thank you," She said awkwardly, "For letting me go,"

He blinked at her very rapidly, then gave a sharp sort of shrug and looked away again.

Roxanne chewed her lip anxiously, damn nosy reporter instincts not letting her leave well enough alone, "I just have one question. When you said you don't want me to come to any harm did that-"

Megamind sighed and stared up at the ceiling, "I would really," His voice sounded painfully tired, "Really prefer not to get into it Miss Ritchi. At least leave me that dignity, please?"

"Okay," Roxanne nodded jerkily. She waited but he didn’t look at her again. She twisted her fingers together for a moment, then darted forward and pressed a brief kiss to his cheek.

Megamind's head snapped around and he stared at her, gaping.

"You know...I like to get ice cream from Apollo's on Saturdays and walk along the lakeshore," Roxanne said quickly, taking a step back then stopping.

"Ice cream," Megamind repeated blankly.

"On the lake shore,"

"On the lake shore,"

"On Saturday,"

He nodded very faintly, looking somewhere between struck dumb and complete bafflement. Roxanne smiled nervously and turned and walked very quickly back to the door that would apparently lead her out of the Lair, "Two o'clock?" She called, then sprinted into the darkness before she let herself think about what she'd just done.

Megamind stood still as a statue for another two and a half minutes, his brain whirring trying to piece together words and thoughts over the warm humming sensation on his cheek. Ice cream...lakeshore...Saturday...two o'clock...Roxanne...

"MINION!"

[aalghul]

Kits

Jason flopped back in his chair and gestured vaguely at two of his table mates, "OK, pop quiz hot shots, what was your best "I want to make it home alive" kits, before you got all Meta or started using super formulas and such?" 

Stephanie smirked, "Oooh fun question, you wanna start us off Duke?" 

"I don't mind if I do," He answered, holding up his hand and beginning to count off on his fingers. "Now my parents figured me having anything illegal for self defense would be a disaster waiting to happen if the wrong person found out." 

"Ugh true," Jason huffed, 

"So I only had three cans of mace, a tazer disguised as a phone, one of those super loud alarms and one of those flash bang burner phones they were selling for awhile." 

"Oh those things rocked, too bad about all the car accidents," Stephanie hummed, before snatching up her thickshake and nodding to Jason. 

Sitting up he tapped the table, "OK, so me and mine didn't have a lot of cash, but I always had my trust tire iron, plus a lighter and spray can I could use to make a flame thrower or bomb." 

"Nice," Duke snorted. 

"and of course dear old daddies revolver," Jason finished with a smirk. 

"Could you even use a gun?" Dick asked, sounding aghast. 

"Of course!" Jason cried, as Duke and Stephanie shook their heads in shared dismay, muttering, "Of course," as one. 

Picking up and spinning a knife, Stephanie hummed, "OK, so my dad always had crooks over, and they drank a lot, so snagging extra gear was easy and with snatchers round every corner." She trailed off meaningfully.  "A little walking armory, right?" Duke said. 

"That I was," Stephanie leaned forward, teeth flashing, "At my best, I had no less than three pocket knives and four switch blades. I had a police tazer, two cans of mace and a pistol. Which I learned to use before I was five!"

"Gotham Girl Grit right there," Jason chuckled. 

Dick kept his drink to his mouth to hide the pained whine of discomfort he wanted to release. 

Tim swallowed, "Uh, I had to take a gas mask to school?" 

"Yeah but this is Gotham, Tim," Stephanie sighed, "Everyone had one of those." 

"If they could afford it, a least," Duke added, as the blonde nodded at his side. 

"Bold of anyone to assume I paid," Jason held out his fist and was met with Duke and Steph's in a quick bump.

Note: 

Barbara did have mace, cos cop for a dad. 

They'd bring Cass in on the game, but everyone knew she'd only needed her own fists.  

[darling-i-read-it]

Marguerite Baker

Part 3

RE7 Rewrite Masterlist

Ethan Winters x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: spoilers for re7, violence, injuries, blood, gross rotted stuff, marguerites boss battle so gross sack thing, bugs, injuries

Author’s Note: I am having a ton of fun with this! At the time of me writing this I haven’t posted any of the parts lol so hopefully you all are enjoying it as well!

Some of these lines are directly from the game so they may sound familiar.

Summary: Getting the serum recipe, going through the old house, killing Marguerite and getting the D-series arm.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator. Some of these lines are directly from the game so they may sound familiar.

(not my gif) (i'm not posting any pics of marguerites boss fight cause I know a lot of people are super grossed out with it and I don't blame them lol)

Ethan dozed off in the trailer. You sat on the counter, counting each and every bullet the two of you had together. You looked around at everything in the trailer. You were fairly certain it was Zoe’s. She had left behind a couple extra weapons and bullets that you scrounged together.

Ethan began to stir after about 30 minutes of sleep. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. You handed him a water bottle you had found in Zoe’s fridge. He took it gratefully and drank about half of it. He ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath as you handed him all of his stuff back.

“We have to go to the old house,” you told him. He nodded.

“Did you get any sleep?” You shook your head.

“I didn’t want any. I’m too hyped up on adrenaline. The second we get out of here I’m going to crash for days.” He laughed a bit and nodded, standing up. He got himself situated. He got himself together, looking you up and down. You were both dirty and worn from the entire situation. You looked like you were about to collapse if you closed your eyes, your gaze wide. You opened the door a bit and looked around outside.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. You shrugged and grabbed a gun.

“I don’t know what else we can do. We’ll get lost without Zoe.”

“That’s a good point.”

“I’m the brains, you're the brawn babe.” He rolled his eyes and looked himself up and down. He was scrawny. He barely had any muscle on him. “We share the brain and brawn then. Come on.”

====

The two of you made your way to the old house. It was the same place you had seen Mia go in the video she made for the two of you. You had some idea where you had to go then. You just had to find the serum. That was it.

You stayed close together as you walked through the place. You found some extra weapons along with things that you could use back at the house. You were quick and as quiet as you could be, only speaking when you needed to speak. As you entered one of the rooms you picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table. You read through it quickly.

“The mothers name is Marguerite. The man is Jack, which we know and the boy is Lucas,” you said quietly. “Seemed like they were a regular family before all this. I wonder what went wrong,” you whispered. He nodded and looked over your head at the paper.

“Must have been something huge.”

“No shit.”

Suddenly something rammed into the gate wall behind you. You and Ethan turned around quickly, him standing between you and the gate. Mia was there, her hands through the holes. She looked desperate.

“Ethan!” she said breathily.

“Mia!” you said mockingly. “Are you going to try and kill us again?” Ethan grabbed your arm.

“That wasn’t me...I’m sorry,” she tried to say.

“No more bullshit Mia. I want some answers. Y/N told me what you told her but I know there’s more,” Ethan said.

“I know, I know you’re right. And I always wanted to tell you but I can only remember a little and the rest is gone!” Behind her Lucas appeared from the corner, grabbing her tightly and pulling her back.

“Daddy right? Who are you, you precious thing?” Lucas stuck his head out at you, a disgusting smile on his face. “We would get along,” he muttered. Ethan blocked Lucas’s view of you as he slinked away. “Well don’t just stand there Ethan! Do something.” Mia yelled for help and the door shut. You moved aside and looked at where she had just gone.

“That guy seems like a dick. We would not get along.” Ethan scoffed.

“Come on. We have to get that fucking serum.”

====

The two of you made it through to the other side of the old house just in time for Marguerite to push you down a hole in the ground. You figured you would have plenty of time to get in and out but she had caught you.

As you landed in the wet ground underneath the house, you felt the wind get knocked out of you. Marguerite's bugs flew down and beside you Ethan was standing. He used the fire thrower to the best of his ability and without even standing up you shot Marguerite in the face. She stumbled back and then forward, falling into the hole with the both of you. You screeched, quickly climbing up. Ethan was hot on your tails. Marguerite slinked away underneath you into the rest of the underground of the house.

He held tightly onto your arm, letting out a loud annoyed sigh.

“She’s nice,” you muttered.

“Not a great cook though.” You laughed and nodded. “Are you alright?” You nodded curtly.

“I think. You?” He nodded, holding up his hand.

“Still stapled on.” You rolled your eyes and turned around, walking back up the stairs. You opened the door that she had stopped you from opening. It opened up carefully and you were able to step inside. There were a lot of hanging baby dolls. In between some candles was a box. You rushed over to it and opened it up.

There seemed to be some sort of bones inside, along with a vile. On the back of the lid was some sort of recipe.

“D-series cranial nerve and D-series peripheral nerve,” you muttered aloud. “This is just the recipe for the serum, not the serum itself.” He let out a groan.

“Awesome.” The phone behind the two of you rang.

“If she knew where the phone was she should have come here herself,” you muttered. Ethan picked it up and you leaned against it so you could hear.

“Well? Did you find the serum?” she asked.

“We just got done dealing with your mom and her fucking bugs. Wish you could have warned me.”

“Sorry about that. What about the serum?”

“Haven’t found any but we did find out how to make one. A D-series head and arm. That can’t be right,” he muttered.

“A head? I think I have that around here somewhere.”

“You do?” he said incredulously.

“I don’t know about the arm though. Have you searched the whole house?”

“No not yet. We still have to check the second floor.”

“Alright, check it out. No funny business you two we’re on a mission.” You rolled your eyes.

“We’ll try to keep our hands to ourselves. We’ll meet you at the trailer if we find it.” He hung up the phone. Before he could even say anything you ventured further into the second floor. It wasn’t long before you found a door that had a single lantern on it.

“Looks like we need the other lantern,” you said aloud.

“This is why you’re the brains.” You rolled your eyes.

“Marguerite had one when she went down there.”

“I am not going down there.”

“You may have to.” The two of you walked back to where the hole in the ground one and saw the lantern just before Marguerite's impossibly long arms came to take it away. You let out a shaky sigh and gestured to him.

“Man first. We live in a patriarchal society.”

“I hate you.” He climbed the ladder down and looked around before you even thought about going down. You waited for a minute and he gestured for you to follow. You were careful as you went down and noticed Marguerite had some sort of pathway for the two of you to follow.

You went down that and came up to a green house of sorts. You went inside warily, guns raised. You and Ethan shared one last look before going up the stairs.

Marugite crashed through the window, causing you both to fall backwards. She gave you an intense look, her long limbs reaching around you.

“I’m her mother. Not you!” She hurried away. You and Ethan quickly regained your balance and held up your guns.

“Did you see her-”

“Yeah.” You swallowed hard and went up the stairs.

It took you and Ethan a good amount of time to get through her. But you had the grenades and Ethan had the flame thrower. Between the two of you, it took longer than it should have. She blew up after some time, leaving behind only her lantern.

You picked it up.

“Just fucking stay dead okay?!” Ethan said, out of breath. You nodded.

“I second that. Let’s just go and get the arm okay?” He swallowed, looking over at you. You watched as his eyes went big. “What?”

“Your chest.” You looked down and saw blood was pooling around your chest and shoulder area. Your eyes went wide as well as the pain hit you. Marguerite must have gotten you and you hadn’t even noticed with all the adrenaline. Ethan quickly rushed over to you and put his hand on your shoulder. “We’re going back to the trailer so I can look at this.” You nodded and let him help you walk out of the green house.

It was a very short walk to the trailer. He sat you down on the bed and kneeled in front of you. He tugged at the hem of your shirt.

“At least buy me dinner first,” you said through a groan. He gave you a look and he helped you take the shirt off. You had a large gash from your collarbone to your arm. Ethan winced just at the sight of it. He pulled out some of the first aid he had found.

“This is going to hurt.” You nodded as he poured something on it. You winced through gritted teeth. He pulled out some bandages. “You aren’t dying on me now, I don’t care what you say.”

“You held your own pretty good back there,” you admitted.

“Yeah, with your help.” You watched as he focused his eyes on your wound. He looked so intense. You had always liked Ethan but when Mia went missing he was all you knew. As you stared into his eyes you thought maybe you had always loved him.

Loved him?

It hit you like a bag of bricks. You took a short breath in and Ethan just assumed it was the pain. You had to look away as you felt yourself get flustered. He was your best friend's husband. But she had been gone for three years and she was always gone before that anyway. You found it in yourself to look back at him. He was smiling slightly up at you.

“It’s the best I can do.”

“It’s great,” you said. “I already feel better. Thank you Doctor Winters.”

“Just doin my job.” You swallowed and stood up. He grabbed your arm, shaking his head.

“You aren’t going with me. I can get the arm.” You shook your head more aggressively than him.

“I’m not letting you go alone.”

“You just said I could hold my own.”

“And you admitted you needed me.”

His hand was firm on your arm. You stared into each other's eyes and suddenly it was so obvious you had always loved him. That's why you came. Sure, you hoped Mia was okay but truthfully you couldn’t let him die if you could help it. The way he laughed and the way he hated beer but drank it anyway and the way he reloaded a gun was weird and the way he looked at you.

“I’ll be okay. Get some rest. Hopefully Zoe will come here before I do.” He let your arm go. He had felt the tension.

You were getting so dizzy from blood loss you had to sit down.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. You reached forward and held his hand.

“Please be safe Ethan.” He nodded curtly and left the trailer. You put your head down on the pillow and let yourself breathe evenly.

====

Ethan returned with the D-series arm only a half an hour later. Zoe was still not there. You were sleeping peacefully on the bed, your face finally at peace. He watched you for a moment. You were his only friend over this whole Mia thing. Most of his friends beforehand had left him when he got super into trying to find her but not you.

And then you told him everything and it all kinda changed.

He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. If you died...he couldn’t deal with it. You were his best friend. He...he loved you. He didn’t want to admit it to himself because of Mia but he really truly did. He ran his hand over his face, letting that settle in.

Suddenly the phone rang, waking you up. Ethan turned quickly and picked it up.

“Now where the hell are you? You know what, nevermind. We only need the head and you’ve got it.” You stood up and walked over, putting your head against the phone like you usually did.

“Hey buddy!” You let out an annoyed sigh. Lucas. “I thought you should know. I decided Zoe needed a time out. She and Mia are here with me. And they’re keeping each other company.”

“Just let them both go, what do you need them for?!”

“That’s family business Ethan! Not your concern understand? Now. If you want the head feel free to come by any time and I’ll give it to ya! But only if you participate in a little activity I put together for you two!”

“Where are they?” he asked.

“I know you’re excited! But don’t worry! It's not going anywhere. First step I need you to take partner is for you to take a look in that fridge there.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh come on now, don’t be like that. You wanna have fun don’t ya? Now look in the fridge.” Lucas hung up. You gave Ethan a look. Ethan put the phone down. You walked over to the fridge and found inside the deputies head. You scoffed.

“This guy again. Man.” You picked it up, wincing at the pain and the smell. On the back of his head was a note. “‘The pig is waiting for you in the dissection room bitch,’” you read. “Now that’s not very nice,” you muttered, putting the head back in the fridge. Ethan let out an annoyed sigh.

“This can’t ever be easy can it?”

“Hell no.” He gestured to your arm .

“How are you feeling?” You shrugged then winced.

“It’ll heal nicely,” you muttered. “How was getting the arm?” He showed it to you, waving it around as he spoke.

“Weird. I thought I saw a little girl and there were all these childrens toys. I got out of there quick though.” He put the arm down and walked up to you. “Let’s change the bandages and then we’ll go to the dissection room.”

“Bitch,” you mocked. Ethan laughed, raising his hands up to your shoulder. You sat down on the table and let him take a look.

“You aren’t lookin too good,” he muttered.

“You should never say that to a lady.” He rolled his eyes.

“You always look stunning. Even covered in blood and dirt.”

“Aw Ethan, thank you. Right back at you.” He put a new bandage on and you watched him do it. If he had looked in your eyes he would have seen the metaphorical hearts coming out of them. Finally he looked back up at your face.

“You should be okay now.”

“Thank you,” you said genuinely. He nodded curtly and stood back. “Can I ask you something?” He nodded. “Are you going to stay with Mia if she gets out of here alive?”

“Don’t ask me that,” he muttered.

“Why?”

“Because you’re messing with my vows by the answer I wanna give you.” You smiled a bit, looking down. “We have to go get whatever he left for us. Come on.” You nodded and stood up. You almost tripped forward from dizziness and he grabbed your healthy arm to keep you steady. Your faces were mere centimeters away. You looked into each other's eyes and he couldn’t help himself.

He kissed you.

Suddenly the pain from your arm was gone. You melted into his lips. He pulled away and froze. Your eyes went wide.

“Did you mean-”

“Yes.”

With that he walked out the trailer door to the dissection room.

Part 4

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Don’t Feed The Flames - Bucky Barnes x (f)reader, Natasha x platonic (f) reader

Summary: Bucky has made you angry after a tough mission with the crew, why you ask? Apparently he thinks it’s totally fine to run inside a burning building to help you complete the mission in question. 

Warning: bit of angst, mostly a good time with the team, Bucky fluff shoved in ur welcome

-reader has fire powers btw, I don’t wanna confuse anyone lol

Masterlist

The mission was difficult to say the least, successful in its own right, but tough for everyone involved. All the Avengers were needed for this clusterfuck of a mission, minus Bruce and Thor who are elsewhere in the universe, lucky them.

All the team needed to do was infiltrated one of the last highly armed Hydra bases left in existence, get rid of the artillery and boom, slither right on in. Objective? Snatch valuable intel as to where the other bases are hiding, and surprise surprise, you and Wanda had to take care of some very pissed off experimentees who were unfortunately brainwashed beyond the point of helping them recover.

Ending the night in everyone quickly evacuating the premise with the essentials while you stayed back to blow up the base to nothing more then bricks and ash. Although during this, Bucky stayed back to shoot some freelancers who tried to take you the fuck out, with what would you know it; flame throwers.

Apparently Hydra is greatly lacking in weapons and functioning brain cells, among other things. Granted, you understood Bucky’s concern for your well-being when he ran into the fire. But oh dear lord were you not happy with him one goddamn bit.

Luckily Sam was able to pluck him out before anything fell on your idiot boyfriend while you were producing mass destruction in the giant airplane storage area. In the aftermath, you came out unharmed but covered in smudge marks and burnt off cloves yet again.

Bucky? Well he came away with a pissed off girlfriend and his life to say the least. And let’s just say the long four hour ride back was a tad bit awkward, even if you were too damn exhausted to show your irritation with Bucky. The team sure as hell knew he wasn’t going to be spared of your wrath when the jet landed.

It took approximately ten seconds for your man to shuffle out of your line of sight, using Steve as a shield to hide behind while they walked out. You had been distracted when Natasha asked for something picked up, then suddenly your mind was on Bucky. A moment later you stomped out of the Quinjet in pursuit of the one and only James Buchanan Barnes as he awaited your fury.

“James!” You growl fiercely, “You are the most fucking reckless person I’ve ever fucking met and I’m literally friends with Tony!” You snap while the rest of your teammates go about their business, trying to listen yet smartly staying out of everything.

“I know.” Mutters Bucky like a kicked puppy suffering his mother’s wrath, blue eyes looking at you with regret clearly visible on his handsome face.

“You know! You know!? Then why the fuck would you just run into the flames like that!” You shout while throwing your arms into the air in frustration, “You’re not fire proof Bucky!”

“Y/N...”

“Do you have a goddamn death wish!?” You interrupt, giving him a dumbfounded look as he glances from Steve to the floor then back to you again, trying to find something or someone with enough pity to help him. 

He finds none, “Well....no.” Your brows raise yet again at his short and annoyingly blunt answers to make up for his stupidly daring boldness. 

“Then why-ugh, whatever never mind.” You dismiss with a wave of your hand before quickly turning on your heels to walk for the metal doors into the main part of the facility, while the others keep their distance from your heated state.

“Wait Y/N, come back I’m sorry!” Exclaims Bucky desperately while you continue to ignore your reckless man, “You’re right I shouldn’t have....ugh...come on babe....shit...” Mutters Bucky as he watches you leave him in such a heated state.

“Dude just let her cool off, oh uh well....no pun intended.” Jokes Sam with a shrug as Bucky watches you stomp away in frustration, your body almost sizzling with actual flame.

“I didn’t mean to....well...ugh, shit I guess I kind of did.” Admits Bucky with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as you slam the door shut with a loud thud, “Sometimes I forget fire can’t hurt her. I should have just let her handle the burning building herself instead of going inside when she uh, told me not to.”

Steve walks out of the Quinjet with a bag in hand to greet the two, “Y/N seemed a bit...”

“Pissed off.” Adds Sam with a light chuckle as Bucky frowns at the giant glass window.

“Yeah.” Mutters Steve awkwardly as he side eyes Bucky, “Well ugh, see you guys at dinner, I think Wanda and Vision are getting takeout from somewhere.”

“See ya Steve.”

“Bye.”

Sam and Bucky watch as Steve heads for the metal doors, soon he’s gone and the two are the only Avengers left in the giant parking garage of sorts.

“She’s going to hate me for the rest of the day I know it.” Sadly mutters Bucky, already missing your beautiful face no matter what state your in.

“I wouldn’t say it’s hate.”

“She’s going to be very disappointed in me then.”

“Yeah probably.”

Bucky gives him an offended look, “You’re supposed to say something uplifting or positive.”

“Man don’t look at me for relationship advice. This is Y/N we’re talking about, just give her a couple hours she’ll simmer down.” Inquirers Sam with a friendly pat on the back before he starts walking away for the door, as casually and unbothered as ever.

Bucky keeps silent for a moment while his mind swims with what to do next, suddenly he looks up at his retreating friend, “Hey Sam!” Shouts Bucky just as Sam opens up the door, causing him to stop and give his friend a quizzical look.

“What?!”

“Fuck you!”

Sam immediately snorts, “You brought this upon yourself brother!” And with that he shuts the door leaving Bucky alone and full of regret for putting himself in danger today when you specifically told him you could handle yourself.

Why is caring for someone so hard, wonders Bucky.

——

After taking a greatly needed shower and putting on a fresh new pair of comfortable clothing for the evening, you slipped past your friends rooms and away from where Bucky may be hiding.

Until at last you made it to Natasha’s door without being caught by anyone in the hallway and stopped for a needless conversation. Soon enough you slip into Nat’s room and saunter around for a bit as you wait for her to end her shower.

“Oh shit!” Gasps Natasha as soon as she opens the door and notices you poking around her stuff, “Jesus Y/N how’d you get in here!?”

“I opened the door.”

“I thought I locked it?”

“You did.”

Natasha gives you a puzzled look as you wander over to her nightstand, nonchalantly minding your business while picking up her current novel as she watches you curiously, “So uh, how’s it going?” She asks cautiously, well aware of your irritation with Bucky earlier that day.

Flipping through the pages you answer her honestly, “I’m fine now.”

Natasha nods before turning around to search through her drawers for an outfit, “I figured that much, considering if you were still pissed you’d be throwing fireballs into the cement wall downstairs.” She quips with her usual smirk as you gently close the book and set it back in its rightful place.

“That is.....true.” You agree with a shrug, “I’m just sending a message at this point.”

“Oh really?” Laughs Natasha while slipping on a shirt, “Poor Bucky then.”

“Yeah well he was being an idiot tough guy so....it’s what I’m doing.” You add with a lopsided smug grin, “Serves him right for being reckless with no regard for his physical safety. I love him but at what cost?”

“Someone needs to tell Steve that.” Mutters Natasha as she pulls on some sweatpants.

You chuckle, “What? That someone needs to tell Steve they love him? Not a bad idea.”

“That too.” Points Natasha, “I seriously don’t know how he’s not dead yet.”

Your brows furrow in thought for a moment, “He’s built like a stone sentinel with a will greater then many, he fears nothing.” You deadpan, face stoic and serious.

“Just about.” Laughs Natasha as you begin to cackle right along with her, in the middle of your laughing fit does the door suddenly burst open to reveal...

“Hello ladies.” Chirps Tony with an award winning smile, usual old T-shirt on and hair a bit of a mess though somehow managing to keep his Stark charm.

“I really need to get an automatic lock on that thing.” Mutters Nat to no one in particular.

“What’s up Stark.” You add with an acknowledging tilt of your head, “You here to bother us or tell us something interesting?”

“Everything I say is interesting my dear sparky.” Quips Tony with a brow wiggle.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Right, anyways. Foods here.” Chides Tony as he sets a hand on his hip, “Unless you’re both too cool for movie night. More for us then, I’ll have Vision drop off our half eaten tacos.”

“We have tacos?” You ask with an intrigued raise of your brow, just wanting to confirm and make sure he’s not bluffing, you fucking love taco night.

“Yep.”

“How long have they been here?”

“Wanda and Vis just arrived so you’re the first two I found.” Oh, fuck yeah!

Turning your head to a smirking Natasha you smile back before bolting for the door, “Move Stark!” You snap before shoving him to the side and cackling as you and Natasha book it down the hall with Tony trying to keep up in the background. What can you say, Natasha always makes it a competition and its taco night. Sometimes you gotta play dirty.

Soon you and your assassin best friend who you tripped up before reaching the door finally skid into the Avengers giant lounging area. The room is relatively empty with the exception of Wanda and Vision who are seated at the large metal table near the kitchen where all the various paper bags of tacos are seated. And ripe for the taking.

Smelling absolutely delicious all tucked snug in their wrapping and filled with the most divine ingredients, you could just about die of happiness. With a beaming smile upon your face and the surprised expressions from your two friends you belt out loudly, “Tacos FUCK YEAH!” Before racing for the bags and getting tripped by Natasha.

Whipping your head up to watch her snatch a bag you growl half angrily, “You bitch.” While she happily smiles back down at you, taco in hand.

“What are you doing on the floor? Foods here.” She jokes as you quickly walk over to the counter with all the bags.

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious now give me that.”

After about ten minutes of eating and shooting the breeze with Natasha, Wanda, Vision, and Tony; you’re ears immediately catch the sounds of thundered running down the hallway and other muffled curses from two familiar individuals.

“Fun’s arrived.” Whispers Natasha with a friendly nudge to your arm as it lays on the flat surface of the table while you absentmindedly crumple up a wrapper.

Biting your lip you anticipate the impending commotion, “Fantastic.” And this whole evening could be more enjoyable if your hundred year old boyfriend would have used some common sense.

A second later the door swings open to reveal a panting Sam before Bucky slides in after him, equally as flustered, those two idiots. As they stand there collecting their breaths, Steve casually steps into the room, walking past them and over to the bags of tacos, “Aw sweet, taco night.” He confirms excitedly, hungrily eyeing up a particular bag.

Rolling your eyes, you slouch carelessly into your expensive swivel chair before turning to Wanda who’s seated across from you, “Hey, Red Riding Hood, you’re up.” She turns her attention away from Vision and nods before giving you a sly smirk and using her power to send a balled up piece of taco wrapping straight for your head.

In one calculably swift motion do you incinerate the paper material before its able to reach your face, “Y/N you’re going to set the fire detectors off.” Laughs Tony as he crumbles up a new ball.

“Eh, we could afford a renovation.”

Tony fake scoffs, “Rude.”

“Well Y/N, I thought you did great.” Applauds Wanda with a chuckle as the three other men walk around to the far end where no one is seated, “Alright Tony you next.”

You refrain from making any eye contact with Bucky who steals a few longing glances at your smiling face, instead he follows Sam and Steve to the opposite end and watches as you quickly turn another balled up paper to ash. The sounds of your laughter and the rest of the tables almost enough to drive him insane.

Yet he refrains, Bucky knows he’s essentially in time out, reason for almost getting himself killed today; and you’re not breaking anytime soon, or so he thinks.

Ignoring the three boys hungrily attacking their poor tacos away from the main groups theatrics, Vision suddenly gains your attention, “Well I suppose I should participate with this game or fear feeling left out....uh, what is the objective? Or perhaps the name?”

“They throw wrappers at me and I set them on fire before it hits myself or the ground.” You reply while crumbling up another piece, leaving Vision to process the possible deeper meaning to your brief explanation, though there really isn’t one. It’s just for fun.

“By the way I’ve been able to get her exactly once.” Brags Tony with a shit eating grin, causing you to scoff at that memory. 

“Oh fuck all the way off you flicked water into my face and then threw the paper.”

“And it was very much worth it.” He confirms as you roll your eyes at his cheating from last taco night.

The rest of your friends fill the room with snickers and some louder laughter coming from Sam down at the far end, with a raised brow you snap your head in that direction and stand, “Something funny bird boy?” You quip in a half threatening manner.

Sam’s smirk immediately drops from his face as his expression appears nonchalant, “What nooo. That was Steve.” He mutters before taking another bite out of his taco.

“Y/N that was definitely not me.”

“Uh huh.”

“Maybe it was Bucky.” Jokes Sam as you shift your fiery attention over to a fearful Bucky who quickly shakes his head before smacking Sam on the arm.

“No.” You confirm with a knowing smirk, “He doesn’t have a death wish.”

“Well neither do I please have mercy.” Pleads Sam with hands raised in defeat, “I would like to finish my taco.”

You stare down at them for a brief tension filled moment before casually shrugging, “Yeah alright.” Before sitting back down again.

——

Opening up the trash can you quickly shove down three giant paper bags from dinner with a bit of effort considering how full it is. Natasha and Vision are cleaning up in various areas nearby while Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Steve, and Tony sit in the lounging area discussing if it was necessary that Dobby was killed off in the Deathly Hallows. You know, normal things you discuss with your superpowered friends.

Well Bucky is mostly just listening and stealing glances over to you every couple of minutes, really wishing you would just walk over to him and let him show you how sorry he was with the biggest hug he could possibly muster. Probably never letting you go again, though you wouldn’t mind.

Ignoring your own longing to be cuddled up next to Bucky, you instead fight with the damn trash can to fucking shut its dumb lid already. With one hand forcefully shoving down bags, paper plates, and banana peels you start to think if volunteering for clean up was even worth it.

A blue flame suddenly erupts from your palm and makes a big black hole through the paper bags and plates, your eyes go wide in surprise as you immediately retract your hand from the trash and shut the lid just as quickly.

Taking a single step back you let out a breath before turning your head to find Bucky watching your whole ordeal go down with a drink in hand, guess he must have gotten up to get some juice and stayed for your one on one brawl with the trash can. Rolling your eyes, you wave it off, “Completely under control.” You mutter as he slowly nods.

Well this is awkward.

Shifting your gaze from Bucky to your friends and back to Bucky again, he finally speaks, “Is that why the lid has smoke coming from under it?”

“What?” You wonder in puzzlement before looking back down at the trash can to find smoke indeed rising, “Oh fuck!” Ripping the lid off you’re kindly greeted with a burst of flame and smoke. Well, shit.

“Uh, Y/N?” Asks Bucky with an uncertain chuckle, “You’re positive everything is under control?” Quips your smartass boyfriend.

With more flames rising to an almost alarming level, though not quit yet, you glance at your oblivious friends before racing for the sink, “Yes! Everything is fucking fine!” Wanda skips to the side as you snatch a cup of something from the counter by the sink.

Running back you skid in your tracks and dump the clear liquid onto the flames which causes them to rise even higher and gain the attentions of everyone sitting down and relaxing, “Why is my trash can on fire?” Asks Tony as casually as ever.

“I don’t know maybe it looks better this way?!” You sass before giving the glass a double take, “The hell? What the fuck was in this!” You shout, holding up the glass while fire burns in the trash from behind you.

“Oh that had some Quinjet fuel in it, why do you ask?” Replies Tony, he’s gotta be fucking with you.

Squinting at him in bewilderment, you shake the empty glass in frustration, “Why the fuck would there be a random glass of fuel sitting in a clear unlabeled glass on the fucking sink of all places!”

“What did you think it was?”

“Oh I don’t know!? Water?!” You snap causing the fire to roar even higher at your outburst.

Looking almost like a demon princess standing there with flames rising from behind you, your fists ball up with blue flame, something that you don’t even realize is happening as you give Tony a (what the fuck are you actually stupid) face.

Sensing your obvious irritation and rising anger, Bucky comes to the rescue with a whole bowl full of actual water and promptly dumbs it onto the flames which causes the unless materials to sizzle and whine. Soon the oranges and reds are gone, leaving the contents turned to ash and nothing more then wet soot.

Distinguishing your own flames, you hang your head low, revealing a tired heavy sigh as you mumble, “Shit.” Suddenly you feel admittedly quit drained and annoyed from the events of the day, even if they weren’t all bad.

Your friends keep silent for a moment before Steve quickly stands, “Movie night anyone?” Gaining the attention of everyone in an instant; you bless the blonde for his intuitive ways of helping you out in the smallest of moments. He truly is a great friend.

“Yeah I could watch something.” Adds Sam with a shrug, “I’m thinking Deathly Hallows Part 2.”

“Yeah it’s pretty good I’ll join.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah I’m in.”

Everyone get up and begins walking for the door as you stay standing in your spot near the wet and ash covered metal trash can, everyone exiting for the home theater except for Bucky who’s back is to you while he tells Sam you’ll be there in a minute.

Folding your arms, you suddenly feel like it’s the first time you and Bucky have ever talked one on one with each other, you’re typically a pretty damn confident and fiery person to begin with, it’s just. Being mad at your favorite human in the whole entire world and then embarrassing yourself with accidentally setting the trash can on fire can take its toll.

Also not to mention the mission many hours ago was admittedly hectic and stress inducing and then, Bucky....perhaps a moment to calm down would have been smart if taken earlier. God your life moves to damn fast.

“You are so intense sometimes.”

Breaking out of your self reflective trance, your eyes quickly dart up to see Bucky who’s giving you a soft smile, “If you wanted my attention you could have just asked.”

“Very funny.” You scoff, “I was actually too busy being mad at you.”

“Ah, right.” Nods Bucky as he mirrors your defensive positioning, deciding to cross his arms and make a pouty face like yourself, “So I guess we’ll just stay here and brood then?”

“I’m trying to make a point.” You mutter, you’re not gonna crack, you’re not gonna do it.

“I’m trying to get my girlfriend to watch a movie with me.” Admits Bucky with an affectionate head tilt as you frown, “I know they’re not going to wait for us so....uh....okay let me start over.....I’m sorry for being reckless and almost dying. And I mean it too, with all of my heart. I love you Y/N.”

Although you’d like to throw his dumb reckless ass some sass and strut away leaving him guessing and begging for more, you just can’t find it in you at this point. He looks at you with those big beautiful blue eyes full of love and adoration for you and only you, how could you possibly resist them?

You know with every ounce of your soul that he means every single word, and you also know that he’s missed you since the second you yelled at him and slammed the facility door, leaving him alone and regretting his past decisions that could have potentially ended him then and there.

“Sometimes James, sometimes.” You mutter, shaking your head in disapproval before a small smirk pulls at your lips and in that moment he knows you’re his, “Come here.”

Heeding to your wonderful command that he’s been waiting to hear all day, he swiftly makes the short distance to gather your smaller body into a giant Bucky bear hug, his strong arms wrap protectively around your back as his head falls into the side of your neck as he quickly steals a small kiss.

You pull him in even tighter and fully enjoy the sensation of himself flush against you, metal arm squeezing your rip cage and long dark hair that falls into your eyes; god you love him so much.

Giving you one last little squeeze of affection, Bucky slowly pulls away and presses his head against yours, “I gotta be honest, I have no idea what this movie is about.” Reveals Bucky as he continues to holds you close.

Chuckling you press a kiss to his lips, “I’ll tell you what’s happening. Let’s go before we miss anything else.”

Nodding, he tilts your head up to press a sweet kiss to your lips one last time before letting you go, so that the two of you can begin walking for the door. Opening up the metal and glass door for you like the gentleman that he is, Bucky quickly jogs over to your side.

“So Sam told me these guys are wizards or something? Like they can teleport and fly I think?” States Bucky in question while walking in step with you.

Looking over at him you smile at how cute he’s being right now, giving him an agreeable nod, “Yeah they can do cool stuff like change form and set things on fire.”

Bucky suddenly starts laughing much to your confusion, “Y/N does that make you a wizard?”

Shoving him to the side you snort as he keeps laughing, “Shut up.” You mutter humorously as he stumbles from your friendly push.

Making quick steps to catch up with you, Bucky pulls you into his side, “Forgive me I didn’t mean it...” Snickers your adorable idiot, “I bet you’d be the best wizard, pointy hat and all.”

Shaking your head you can’t help the smirk that tugs against your better wishes, “I’m gonna set you on fire.” You jokingly threaten him with as he affectionately squeezes your side, causing you to be pressed even closer against him.

“Wizard.” Muses Bucky as he plants a kiss to your cheek as you try and push him away.

“Bucky, shut the fuck up.”

“But, I love you.”

[walkerwords]

“The Savior Sessions” Part 33 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Beta makes his final move against the survivors as the group prepares for the final showdown against the Whisperers and our story comes to an end.

Word Count: 4971

Warning: Swearing, Violence, Blood

Song I Wrote To: “Sanctuary” by Welshly Arms

Note: THANK YOU. That is all I can really say. I have never written something this long and I am forever grateful for the handful of you that have stuck with it for all these months. Happy TWD 10c premiere and I can’t wait to write even more for you though I may need a break for a bit! I hope you also listen to the song for this chapter, I think it fully encapsulates the relationship between Negan and the reader! ALL OFFICIAL DIALOG IS PROPERTY OF AMC

————-

They say that Death rode on a pale horse as Hell followed behind, but they had never considered that Hell was with them all along and that they were only waiting for someone to swing the sword.

Your sword hung on your hip as the rumbling sound of the Dead crashed over you in waves. From the tower window, it looked as if the ground was alive with insects rather than crumbling bones and rotting flesh.

As soon as Gabriel sounded the alarm, you and Negan went off to help where you still could. Michonne was frantically searching for Judith who had run out after her uncle in hopes of helping. She only began to relax after Daryl had gotten through to her to tell her that they were on their way back to the tower.

They also had Kelly and Carol with them.

Gabriel was running around with blankets, extra weapons, and ever extra bottles of water for those he would be moving out of the tower as the herd got closer. You were starting to feel a bit out of sorts. You had been waiting for this moment since Beta had singled you out in the clearing during the fair and yet, you didn’t know if you were ready to face him for the last time, but you had to be.

At this point, it was either him or you.

The Walkers were a big problem, but then there were the Whisperers that moved within the herd. There was no way to properly single them out without wasting long-distance ammo. These were the days that you missed the armory back in Alexandria.

The only guns in the group were Gabriel’s shotgun and Rick’s colt python in which Judith carried. It wasn’t enough and you knew that. The only hope that any of you had was that Michonne and Gabriel’s plan of diverting the horde would stand up.

When Daryl and the others returned, Gabriel explained what he wanted to do.

“Is that even going to work?” you asked as you stood in the hallway.

“It’s the only thing we’ve got,” Gabriel said. “If we can get the stereos working and lead the horde away, it may be the only thing capable of drawing away this large of herd.”

“What about the Whisperers in the herd?” Kelly asked. “Isn’t their whole thing herding the Dead towards a certain area?”

“Negan said that it’s more complicated than that,” you said. “It’s not an exact science. If they try to force the Walkers, they start to become more aware of the Living among them. It never ends well.”

“Meaning what?” Carol asked.

“Meaning I don’t like our odds,” Michonne said.

“Neither do I,” you agreed.

“It’s either this or we wait to be slaughtered,” Gabriel said. “And considering we got kids in here, I don’t like that idea at all.”

“Of course not,” Michonne said. “Okay, so we get to the wagons on the outskirts and we get them hooked up, then what? Where do we take them?”

“We can figure that out once we get them away from the tower,” you said. “Beta isn’t going to stop until we are all dead. He can’t take on all of us at once so he’s using his Walkers. This may be the only opportunity that we have to get to him.”

“Beta is not the only enemy out there,” Carol said.

“That’s rich coming from you,” you shot back and Daryl got between the two of you.

“Easy,” he warned. “We are not going to get anything done by fighting among ourselves. Gabriel is right, we have to get to the wagons.”

“We have to get through that horde before we do anything,” you said.

“We’ve done it before,” Daryl said and you quickly realized what he meant as did the others. Michonne made a face of disgust along with your own.

“Well, this isn’t going to be pleasant at all,” you said.

“Never is,” Michonne added, “but we gotta do it.” Frowning down at Paul’s coat, you sighed.

“Fine, someone find us some Walkers,” you said, “and make them extra bloody.”

--------

“Have I told you yet that I hate this plan,” Negan said as you finished strapping your knives to your thighs and storing more in your coat. 

“Many times,” you said with a sigh. 

“And yet, you’re going through with it,” he said. 

“Like Gabe said, we don’t have many other options,” you said, turning to him. “Unless you know if any RPG’s just happen to be in this very building with useable ammunition.” 

“Afraid not,” Negan said with a frown. 

“Then it looks like we are shit out of luck, honey,” you said as you double-checked your weapon on your hip. “I know you’re worried about me, but I have to do this and so do you.” 

“Nah,” Negan said, disagreeing. “I’m not exactly an invisible force when it comes to these assholes. I’ll stick out too much, you’re going to have to do this part without me.” 

You knew he was right. There was no doubt that Beta had found Alpha’s head and knew that Negan was the last one to be with her. While Beta still wanted to kill you, right now, Negan was number one on his kill list. You were just hoping that he would be too distracted with his own vengeance to recognize yours. If you could keep hold of even an ounce of surprise, then this would be a whole lot easier. 

“I get it,” you said. “I don’t like it, but I do understand.”

“Thanks,” he said. You then pulled him in for a harsh kiss, putting all your passion into it. If this was the last time you held him like that, then you were going to make it count. Pulling back, you stared into his eyes, eager to see that fire. When you did, you gave him a half-smile. 

“Now or never, big man,” you said. “Are you with me?”

“Damn right,” he said before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He then pushed you back towards the main hallway where you were supposed to meet Daryl in order to don your Walker disguise. As you walked away, he felt as if you were taking a part of him with you and he prayed that part would be enough to keep you safe.

----------

“Our plan is the same,” Gabriel said as Negan listened at the side. “Lead the horde away, just not from Oceanside as we had planned. Once the Walkers are clear, we evacuate to Rendezvous Point B. Luke, We ready?” Gabriel asked Luke who was standing next to Jules. 

“Yeah, yeah. Uh, technically,” Luke said with an attempt at a reassuring smile. “Okay. So, these are the final pieces that we need to connect to the wagon. But in order for it to do the pied piper thing that we need it to do over the cliff, we gotta get from A to B, and I gotta plug and plug,” he said.

“And then we should be good to go?”  Kelly asked. 

“Hopefully,” Luke said.

“That wagon is on the other side of the horde,” Beatrice said. 

“Which is why we have these,” Daryl grunted as he and Jerry dragged in two extra-large Walkers into the foyer of the tower. 

“Oh man, this is just wrong,” Luke said. 

“But it works,” Gabriel said. “Trust me, I know.” Negan smirked at that, remembering that time he and Gabriel had done the guts trick to get back into the Sanctuary. That time felt like another lifetime ago now that he was thinking about it. 

Negan stepped away from the group temporarily, heading to one of the vacant watchpoints. His eyes scanned the horde for Beta, but he couldn’t see the man amongst his Dead. If Beta was out there, he was staying out of sight for a reason. Negan never pegged the man as one who would lead the army. He was more of a free agent when it came to taking orders from his Alpha. However, now with Alpha gone, it seemed as if the Beta had finally taken command of the pack. 

It wasn’t very reassuring. 

Negan had seen some large hordes since this had all started. He had even told you about a particular one that scared the hell out of him. Negan didn’t think a tow truck would be able to get through this one even if it had a flame thrower attached to it. Michonne was right, he didn’t like their odds either. 

Taking one last look, Negan turned away and headed back into the fold. 

As he neared the main area of the fighters who were waiting to go out, he noticed you, soaked in Walker blood, trying not to gag. If it was any other scenario, he would think it was adorable.

It was a moment later that Daryl noticed Negan. 

“Hey,” Daryl called, approaching Negan, “why you clean?”

“I ain't goin’,” Negan declared.

“You've done this more than any of us,” Daryl said. “How the hell is this any different?”

“I am on the tip-top of every skins' kill list. Especially Fee Fi Fo asshole. So, if the idea is to get through without drawing a shitload of attention, then I am the last person these people want standing next to them,” Negan said, not liking the idea of more of these people dying because of him. 

“That's a bunch of bullshit,” Daryl said, shaking his head. “You wanna be a part of this? You gotta put your ass on the line just like everybody else and (Y/N) needs you by their side.” 

“They understand,”  Negan said. 

“Do they?” Daryl scoffed. 

“Yeah, I do,” you said as you approached. “I thought we could do this together, but we can’t. At least, not this part.” Negan nodded, agreeing with you. 

“We’re just leading the horde away,” Daryl said. 

“You are,” you said. “I’m not.”

Daryl understood your words immediately. Negan, who had already guessed your plan, was silent as he stood by your side. Daryl was shaking his head as he looked at you. You were one of his closest friends and he was just realizing how serious you were when it came to getting to Beta. He had been so focused on Carol’s vendetta against Alpha, that he had missed the signs of your own fury.

“No,” he said, “not like this.”

“I’ve already made my decision, Daryl,” you said. “You’re not going to change my mind. Look, Gabriel is staying behind to protect the kids and I need you to disperse the herd.”

“Are you hearin’ this?” Daryl asked Michonne who was nearby. 

“I am,” she said with a nod, “ and I am trusting that they know what they’re doing.” 

“Fucking ridiculous,” Daryl said as he stormed away. 

“Great, so if I die, he’ll be dancing on my grave,” you said as you watched him walk away. 

“Daryl will be fine,” Michonne assured you. “Besides, Daryl doesn’t dance,” she said with a wink and a nod before going to follow him in preparation to leave. 

-----------

You lost sight of Negan shortly after the group headed out of the tower. 

While you were still covered in the Walker guts, you weren’t leaving just yet. You had a plan and you needed to stick with it. Standing across from Dianne, you watched as your family began to move through the Dead. You could make out a few of them, but not everyone. Also with the sun beginning to set, you knew that it was only a matter of time before you lost all visibility.

Everything that had happened since that first wind storm, was suddenly echoing around in your head. You had lost people shortly after that night and it just kept crashing down like that tree that collapsed the wall behind your house. You weren’t even sure if your house was still standing at this point. Aaron and Alden had radioed to say that the horde had moved through Alexandria, trampling it. They were supposed to keep on them, but then their line had gone silent and nobody was hearing from them. 

It was making you nervous, not knowing where your friends were. You knew that Enid was worried, but she was staying busy, looking after the kids with Siddiq who was constantly hovering over Rosita and Coco. Considering they were the only doctors in the group, they would not be going out into the horde until it was clear. They would head straight for the meeting point and even then it was a risk to have them out there. However, you knew that they were strong fighters and that they would do everything to survive. They had proved that the night Alpha had taken them. 

The Fair seemed so long ago. That moment of you walking up the hill to see your friends and family on pikes still haunted you, but you used those feelings of horror and despair to keep your vision alive. The vision you had of your future with both Negan and Lydia by your side. 

You had always fought for family and you were not going to let Beta take that away from you. 

A sudden scream broke you out of your thoughts as Beatrice went down in the horde. Dianne was stunned next to you as you watched the woman being torn apart by Beta’s guardians. You knew that Carol had been with her, but you couldn’t tell if she was down as well. You couldn’t look away as blood and flesh were covering the Walkers as they feasted on your friend. 

Holding your head higher, you moved away from the window and headed towards the elevator shaft. Catching Negan’s eye who stood near Lydia, you nodded to him. He nodded back and with one final look, you grabbed the rope and began to propel down, adjusting your focus not on your family above, but the enemy below. 

-------

“They're coming up,” Judith said, who was staring at the stairwell in horror. Gabriel pushed her back, holding her tightly.

“You all know what to do,” Gabriel said. “Dianne, you get the first group. Children and wounded come second. If Rosita argues, just come and find me.”

The evacuation went smoothly as Dianne got everyone out, even Rosita and her baby. It was going well, but Negan knew it wasn’t nearly done. There was more work to be done.

Not too far away from Gabriel, Negan spoke to Lydia. “You know how this ends,” he said with a sigh. 

“I don't and neither do you,” Lydia argued, looking up at him with those big brown eyes of hers.

“Come on, kid,” Negan said. “You being here when the shitstorm hits ain't changing what definitely is happening.”

“I'm not leaving,” she said defiantly. 

“They're never gonna trust me, you,” Negan said, knowing well enough that no matter who he wanted to spend his life with, he would never be more than what these people remember from eight years ago. “Doesn't matter what we do now. You can just slip out, down, and dance your way through the Dead.”

“So can you,” Lydia pointed out, gesturing to the Whisperer mask he still had in his jacket. 

“Like you said, I ain't no hero,” Negan said. 

“You could be,” Lydia prompted.

“Well,” Negan said, pulling her into his side. “I guess that's what I'm doing now. You be careful, kiddo, and you know what?” Negan then pulled out another mask from his coat, one that Lydia instantly recognized as her mother’s. “You take this and you use it for good, you know, if that’s something you feel like doin’, alright?”

Lydia took the mask in her hands and clutched it in a fist. 

“Don’t die,” she whispered. “Please, Negan, I can’t lose any more family.” 

“I ain’t plannin’ on it,” he said as he kissed the top of her head and then turned his back on the room. Lydia watched as Negan took hold of the rope that led into the elevator shaft. Not looking back, he began to descend. He didn’t stop until his boots found solid ground again.

Shoving the mask onto his face, Negan pushed out into the world, ready to face anything that it threw at him. Even if it was for the last time.

He was on the outskirts of the horde when he exited the building, but he didn’t see any Whisperers and he didn’t see you. He didn’t think you would be waiting out in the open so he figured you had disappeared into the trees or even the horde itself. 

Pulling the bat off his shoulder, Negan looked down at what you had coined “Lucille 2.0”. His hand wrapped around the end of the bat, feeling the familiar grip. With a deep breath, he held it close to his face one last time. “Thanks, old girl,” he whispered before tossing the bat into the horde of Walkers. He watched as it disappeared amongst the Dead and felt another weight disappear from his shoulders.

Drawing his knife, Negan began to move through the herd in hopes of finding you and the man you were going to take down. He just hoped that Daryl’s plan started to work and that the building behind him didn’t succumb to the wave of Walkers among him.

-----------

Something was wrong, that much you knew. 

You didn’t know what it was, but the horde had stopped moving in the direction of the cliffside. You could hear the crashing of metal and cracking of stone behind you as the horde moved into the building.

The only good thing was that only the Whisperers could move up into the building and you were just hoping Gabriel had enough fighters to keep them back. However, he was also trying to evacuate people so it could easily go bad very quickly. 

Fresh blood was splattered on nearby Walkers and you were praying that it was Whisperer blood and not the blood of your family. You wanted to stop and search for any bodies, but so far, you had gone undetected in the herd and you needed to keep it that way. 

Shouts of alarm came from the building, but you couldn’t turn back and so, you kept Walking.

It was well into the evening when everything seemed to slow down. You had been moving through the horde slowly, taking out any Whisperer that recognized you. It was easy to do, a few quick slashes and the blood would attract the Dead. However, as you killed more of them, they began to realize the enemy had infiltrated their own army.

It was a few minutes later that you saw a familiar face in the crowd. Magna moved behind a slow-moving form and then slit their throat. The Whisperer fell to the ground as Walkers fell upon them, and then, Magna was gone. 

You heard more sounds of choking as more Whisperers fell to the phantom movements of your friends and family. You could never pinpoint where they were in the crowd, but soon, you began to join in the stealth mission. Using your smaller blades, you cut down Whisperers, silencing them once and for all. 

When one went to stab you first, Kelly was there in a second, slitting their throat, and throwing them down to the ground. You nodded to her as you passed by and she reached out and grabbed your hand quickly before continuing on. 

Everything was going as planned, but you couldn’t find Lydia. You didn’t know if she had joined up with Daryl or had stayed behind with Gabriel. You hoped that Negan had eyes on her, but you didn’t know where he was either.

As the sun finally set and darkness fell, the horde began to thin and the enemy was finally exposed. 

Negan saw him first. 

Beta stood amongst the dwindling Dead acting as if he was the king of them all. A moment on the left, caught both men’s attention as Alpha’s mask moved through the crowd.

Negan shook his head at the move Lydia had made. If he wasn’t sure that she wasn't, he would have thought she really was his kid considering how daring she was with taunting Beta like this. 

Beta stared at her in awe until she disappeared again from view. It was enough of a distraction for Negan to move in.

He knew you had to be close so with a smirk, he let loose his memorable melodic whistle, something he hadn’t done in a while. 

He just hoped that you would get the meaning. He was essentially sending up a flare in the form of a few notes. “Come get him,” Negan whispered as he approached Beta. “Hey, shithead,” he spoke louder, gaining the attention of Beta. 

The larger man instantly locked onto Negan’s position with ferocity. Recognizing him, Beta charged right for him. Negan braced himself for impact when Beta threw a Walker at him. “Shit!” Negan said as the Dead man fell upon him, its jaws fighting their way towards his throat. Pulling his knife, Negan finished off the Walker, kicking it away, but Beta wasn’t done. 

He threw himself toward Negan as the latter tried to get to his feet. Beta aimed his fist at Negan’s head, catching him in the temple and Negan went down hard. Blinking back the black spots in his vision, he focused back on the enemy above him.

“For Alpha,” Beta growled. Negan stared him down as Beta raised his knives above his head, ready to strike true, but a sound from his left made him turn. He snarled as you came running from the horde with your sword in your hand. Beta didn’t have any time to move as you rushed past him, your blade slashing out to the side and cutting both of the man’s Achilles tendons. 

Beta yelled out in pain as blood pooled from his ankles. Negan pushed him off of him as you circled back. Kicking his knives from his hands, you reached down and shoved your blade into Beta’s shoulder. The same shoulder you had injured in your fight with him in Alexandria. Beta bared his teeth at you and that’s when you noticed the new mask on his face.

It was half of Alpha’s own face.

He seemed to be sneering at you as you reached forward and placed your hand on his throat, forcing him to look at you. “I’ll kill you,” he spat. 

“You make veiled threats,” you said, quoting what he had first said to you in the clearing as your friends were being slaughtered by his Alpha. “I told you that I wasn’t going to die like this. Not by you or anyone.” Beta yelled, trying to get up and attack you when suddenly Daryl appeared out of the darkness. 

Pulling his blades, Daryl brought them down into Beta’s back, keeping him in place. The shock of pain sent Beta back to the ground. Blood bubbled at his lips and you leaned in closer, making sure your face was the last one that he saw. “Killer,” Beta spat at you as Daryl pulled his blades from Beta’s body.

“No,” you said as you pulled back and then in one fluid motion, buried your sword up into his chest. “Survivor,” you corrected as you withdrew your weapon and kicked him to the ground and towards his own Walkers who smelled the fresh blood immediately. 

Negan and Daryl instantly, stepped in front of you as you watched the Dead tear apart Beta. The sound of tearing flesh and the growls of the Walkers had never sounded so liberating before. Negan slowly took hold of his mask and tore it from his face, letting it drop to the ground beside him. Daryl, who had been the first one to fight Beta, let out a breath that spoke louder than words.

They had won. 

“Now is it over?” you asked, leaning on your sword, 

“Yeah,” Daryl said. “It’s over. Come on,” he said as he passed Negan, knocking his fist against the taller man’s shoulder. Negan then reached down and took your hand in his and without looking back, walked away from the bloodbath that had ended the war.

---------

The sun was rising by the time, you managed to find the group again. 

You, Daryl, and Negan found Carol first. The woman looked as if she had been through hell, but she lit up as soon as she saw her best friend. Daryl grabbed her first, hugging her close. It immediately reminded you of when they had reunited after Terminus. 

Looking around, you couldn’t find the person you had been worried about since you had dropped down the elevator shaft. “Lydia,” you said, “where is she?” Carol looked up from her moment with Daryl and approached you. 

“Rendezvous point,” Carol said. “She went looking for you. Both of you,” she said, sending a look to Negan. You didn’t hesitate to start running through the trees. Negan was right behind you as you jumped over old roots and fallen branches. Your only thoughts were on Lydia and if she was okay. Seeing the break in the trees ahead of you, you slid to a stop, your eyes scanning the area. 

Negan arrived right behind you, but then, he froze. He felt as if the world was suddenly pulled out from under his feet. Everything around him felt on fire as he beheld who was kneeling in front of Judith, speaking softly to her.

Maggie Rhee. 

You noticed his hesitation immediately. “What’s wrong? Do you not see her?” you asked, still looking around for Lydia. 

“(Y/N)…” Negan said slowly.

“What?” you asked and then he was nodding over to where he was looking. Turning, your eyes found Maggie who had finally noticed Negan. The woman was staring at him as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Negan swallowed thickly as Maggie stared him down.

There weren’t many people in the world that scared him as much as Maggie Rhee did and he was not looking forward to the words she would definitely be throwing at him. “Ignore her,” you said.

“(Y/N),” he said again. You grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him back to face you. He did, looking down at you with worry in his eyes. 

“Just for right now,” you said. “We need to find‒”

“Hey!” a familiar voice called out and you could have sunk to the ground at the amount of relief that flooded your system. 

“Oh, thank god,” you said as you turned to see Lydia running towards you. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked exhausted but she was alive and that was all that mattered. Lydia ran right to you, throwing her arms around you and Negan. You didn’t hesitate to follow suit, wrapping your arms around both of them. 

Your family. 

Negan squeezed both of you tight in his arms, finally letting his heart settle from all the adrenaline that was pulsing through him. “Is he dead?” Lydia asked as she was pressed between you two. 

“He’s dead,” you whispered. “I promise, we got him.” Lydia pressed herself tighter to you before she stepped back with a relieved expression on her face. You then grabbed her and checked her for injuries. Lydia was doing the same as she checked over you and Negan. When Lydia noticed the blossoming head wound on Negan’s forehead, she became worried.

“I’m fine, kiddo,” he assured her. “I’ll take a bruise over a body bag any day.” Lydia then looked from him to you and then back at him. 

“Does this mean you’re staying?” she asked, looking at him with hope in her eyes. 

“Nothing is going to make me leave you,” he said. “Either of you.” Lydia let out a breath as she moved in to hug him again, coiling her arms around his waist. He held her back and sent a wink to you over her shoulder. You moved and picked up his hand, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, not caring who was watching. 

You would deal with her later. 

“So, now what?” Lydia asked.

“Now, we start fresh,” you said, taking her hand in yours, Lydia leaned into Negan, her head resting on his chest. “And who knows, maybe we discover a little more about each other along the way.”

“I like the sound of that,” Negan said as he tugged you into his side. 

“Me too,” Lydia sighed. 

“Good cause I am not giving up on either of you,” you said, trying not to get emotional, but it was futile. Letting a tear fall, you smiled at them. “You’re my family,” you choked out. 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Negan said as he leaned down and pulled you in for a kiss. You kissed him back quickly, knowing there was a future ahead of you filled with more. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too,” you said. “Until the end of our little universe.” Negan grinned at that as he pulled you and Lydia in closer, holding onto his found family. 

There was a lot more to come and you knew that. With Maggie’s reappearance, it was not going to be easy and there were always going to be more enemies and wars to fight. However, because you had the man you loved and a kid who was a hell of a fighter, you knew you were going to be okay no matter what the new world threw at you.

After years of feeling like an outsider, you finally felt whole and it was all because you took a chance and spoke to the big bad wolf. 

THE END.

TAGS: @not-too-tall-for-trick @lucillethings @cameronsails @stark-dreams @amaroho @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland @waspyyy @yespleasejayhalstead @hoemadegrace @writingdeadangel @huffledor-able541 @pulplorrd @felicisimor

[edda-grenade]

Fire.

Adaar figures out how to literally throw fire, and Solas has some concerns.

[also somewhat of a follow-up to Wounded, and Tehenan shows up for the first time in Teachers.]

#feral verse, 1300 words. on AO3.

Adaar had done good work with the stitches. How she had managed it, Tehenan wasn’t quite sure, considering the elf damn near flinched under every touch. It had only gotten worse when Adaar left to get more salve.

“So,” Tehenan said, in a probably fruitless attempt to distract him until her daughter returned, “how is the teaching going? Is she driving you up the wall already?”

He let out a strangled noise, like a half-swallowed chuckle.

“She is… a river bursting its banks.”

Tehenan eyed him sidelong. “And what does that mean?”

The elf’s cheeks darkened. “She is reckless,” he said, “and she learns quickly.”

She considered that for a moment. “I take it you’re not the one who taught her how to breathe fire, then?”

Solas stared at her.

“…I’m sorry, she did what?”

“Hold still, I’m not done removing the thread.” Tehenan clamped one hand around his thigh to stop him from moving. “Breathed fire. Or at least that’s what it looked like. Maybe she just set the air in front of her on fire? You’d probably be able to tell.”

“It is dangerous either way,” he said sharply, his entire body tense like a coiled spring. “To compromise her lungs with such… showmanship.”

“You’ve met my daughter, right?” Tehenan gently tugged the last piece of thread from his flesh. “You really expect a woman called fire-thrower not to act like a dragon when she has the opportunity to do so?”

“I… was under the impression Adaar refers to a cannon.”

“It does. But translated literally, it means fire-thrower.” She smiled, remembering the tiny sparks Adaar had spat when her magic had first manifested. “Almost prophetic, huh.”

Solas drew his legs up tight against his torso as soon as she let him go, watching her over his bony knees with the flinty stare of a cautious animal.

“Why did you call her that?” he asked, voice low. It didn’t sound accusatory, exactly, but she couldn't quite tell with him. Tehenan shrugged. “When she was little, she had this habit of launching herself at us—I’d be carrying her, like this, and she’d brace her feet on my hip and just throw herself at Ari, like a flailing chubby cannonball.”

“Lies and slander!” Adaar dropped into a crouch next to them. Like Ari, she could move so much more quietly than one expected, and Tehenan grasped at her chest in only half-theatrical shock.

“Kid! Don’t startle your dear old mother like this.”

Adaar laughed and knocked her forehead against Tehenan’s shoulder, then turned to Solas, who was watching them with wide eyes. She presented the tin of salve. 

“Here you go. And don’t listen to her, I was a highly precise cannonball. I have never flailed in my entire life.”

“Should I tell him the story about the pear tree? Because I remember a distinct amount of flailing in that one—”

“Mama! I don’t go around telling everyone about the time you splattered that deer’s gallbladder everywhere, do I?”

“How do you even remember that, you were four—”

“Did you breathe fire?” Solas’s voice was sharp, edged with something more than anger.

Adaar pouted at her. “That was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Tehenan said and gave her an apologetic pat on the shoulder. “But it was surprising; you should have seen his face.”

“Well, now I missed it—”

“Adaar.”

Solas’s attention had shifted entirely, Tehenan noted. Her daughter’s did, too. The two of them rose, their focus locked on each other.

Tehenan sat back and began to collect her medical supplies, keeping an eye on them, absorbed in their discussion. People always revealed so much more when their attention was focused on anything other than hiding. Not that Adaar had ever learned, or needed to learn, how to conceal her thoughts—sometimes Tehenan wondered if they’d chosen the right path there, in raising her—but Solas was a tightly-locked box at the best of times. Except, it seemed, when faced with Adaar’s magic.

“It carries risk,” he said. “The air you breathe connects to your mouth and nose, your throat and lungs. If you lose control, or miscalculate, you put all of that in danger—”

“So fire is where you draw the line? I can throw lightning and displace my body with the Fade but spewing fire is too dangerous?”

“That is not my point, you know that. It never was.”

“Then what is? Are you seriously mad I figured something out without your help?”

“Of course not! I am simply—”

It was new to him. He wasn’t sure how she did it. And that seemed to frighten him…

“Why don’t you demonstrate?” Tehenan suggested. Adaar brightened instantly, while Solas looked even more conflicted. Adaar grabbed him by the wrist, Tehenan picked up her supplies, making sure the salve tin stayed with Solas's things, and together they trudged down to the river.

“She really hasn’t set anything on fire so far,” Tehenan said. “Just a bit of singed hair.”

“Amazing vote of confidence,” Adaar muttered, but she met Tehenan’s smile with one of her own, sparks already drifting from her mouth. Solas remained silent, all the way through Adaar rolling up her trousers and wading into the river, rubbing her hands together until even Tehenan could feel the way her magic changed the air.

“Be careful,” Solas called out finally, voice tight.

“Always am,” Adaar replied.

“Liar,” Tehenan said, and laughed when her daughter stuck out her tongue in response.

Adaar cupped her hands together in front of her face, as though she were about to drink, inhaled through her nose, chest and belly expanding with it, and exhaled.

It was even more impressive than the first time. A great plume of fire streamed from her mouth and cupped hands, flames dancing through the air. The river’s surface shone red and gold in reflection; a gentle wave of heat passed over them. As the fire faded, Adaar looked to them, eyes bright and her mouth split in a wide grin, a small tongue of flame licking out from between her lips. She was practically glowing.

Tehenan shivered, but her chest filled with warmth at the sight. Stars, whatever mistakes she and Reth and Ari had made along the way, they’d gotten this much right, at least.

She glanced down to catch Solas’s expression.

It wasn’t fear. But it was… familiar. She wracked her brain, trying to remember why—until it clicked. Ari. In Rivain. The market, the seer woman, practicing magic in plain sight and honored for it.

It was longing, for something you hadn’t even realized could exist until you laid eyes on it.

“Come on, don’t leave me in suspense,” Adaar called. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful, Sunspot,” Tehenan yelled. “Are you sure you don’t want Ataashi as your chosen name?”

“I’m thinking about it!”

Solas waded into the river, his steps hurried.

“Show me again,” he told Adaar, that same strange edge to his voice. Not anger, nor fear—but some desperate longing. “Explain it to me. Break it down into the smallest parts possible, that you may make use of them in other ways.”

“Uh, that’s gonna take a while, probably?”

“I don’t mind.”

Adaar glanced at Tehenan, a question in her eyes. Tehenan gave a dismissive wave.

“We’ll be fine, just come back before dark. And take care that his wounds don’t get wet, alright?”

“I will! If all else fails, I’ll just carry him.”

“You will do no such thing,” Solas said stiffly, but he did wrap the dry edges of his cloak around his thigh.

Tehenan chuckled and left them to it, relief softly settling into her bones. Her daughter’s excitement over the past weeks that only seemed to grow with each passing day—it would keep growing. She had someone to teach her, someone who could understand the intricacies of magic in ways none of her parents could. Koslun only knew what hole Solas had crawled out of or what strange cause drove him—but judging by what Tehenan had seen today, for now at least, he would stay.

[aceofspadegrass]

Can you write a fic about the AIB cast having a sleepover in the mansion that they all bought so that they could all live in there like a family...yes the dog trio will be in here too thank you very much.

Like one faithful day,Kento decided that everyone needs a break from their career...so? Why not a sleep over he says?. There will be board games (specifically family board games,Uno and Manolo-) and chaos!

Nijiro will constantly sometimes get scolded by Aoyagu sho(aguni) because he what been playing PUBG too much on his phone.

The mother of this family?: Nobuaki of course!

How about the father?: Aoyagi!

And now it's all up to you on what's gonna happen next :3!!

Cast Sleep

Characters: Yamazaki Kento, Sakurada Dori, Murakami Nijiro, Aoyagi Sho, Kaneko Nobuaki, Miyoshi Ayaka, Tsuchiya Tao, and Asahina Aya

Genre: Fluff. Just a section of the cast vibing in a brief sleepover. :D

1.3k words

Here it is! A sleepover without the sleep? So scandalous, I know, but a dash of marshmallows and UNO should do the trick. :D They're just vibing. :3

The idea came to their director one day, after the success of Alice in Borderland, and how well everyone was interacting with each other. In a moments time, they were all ushered to take their cars to drive to a mansion that they all chose together, some carpooling to save gas.

The first group contained the girls, Asahina and Miyoshi climbing out the front while Tsuchiya came out the back, her dog hopping out with her with a happy bark to be let out of the car. They settled in first, Asahina and Tsuchiya marveling at how huge and pretty everything was, Miyoshi dragging in their luggage and bringing them up to their rooms. Apparently she didn’t take that long, as when Miyoshi came back the other girls were still talking about the decorative fish tank with fake fishes swimming about, Tsuchiya pointing out how cute the little robots were. Misao trots up to Miyoshi wanting pats, Miyoshi smiling at the poodle and petting Misao as much as the little pooch wanted.

Not much later, came Sakurada with his group, consisting of Yamazaki and Murakami, the latter playing games on his phone while listening to music. Tsuchiya opens the door to greet them, Yamazaki leaving the car and running up to greet her. Sakurada pokes his head to look at Murakami, the younger of the two humming quietly to himself. Fanta, Sakurada’s dog, was napping peacefully on his lap, apparently freed by either of the two men at some point. Sakurada chuckles and taps Murakami on the leg, Murakami looking up with wide eyes, pulling the earphones from his ears. “ Hm? Are we there yet?

“ Mmhmm! Let’s go!” Sakurada opens his door and gets out, Murakami (and a freshly awoken Fanta) following behind him and entering the house. They too greet the girls, Yamazaki heading outside with Tsuchiya to grab the trio’s luggage. By the time they get it in, another car pulls up, and out came the rest of the group, Kaneko excitedly waving at everyone with Aoyagi not that far behind.

“ Hello everybody!” Kaneko greets as he comes up to the mansion with his luggage, and besides him was Merry, who was casually trotting besides him. Sakurada kneels down to greet the dog, Merry coming up and getting her daily pats with a happy tail wag.

“ Why do you have Yanagi’s dog?” Asahina asks, watching Misao bound up to Merry and give a doggy greeting, Fanta busy playing with Murakami.

Kaneko just smiles, and points back out the door, Yanagi coming out from the backseat with a whole load of bags. “ We buried him in stuff by accident, so Merry was sitting up front with us!” “ We’re coming in-“ Aoyagi’s voice appears from behind Kaneko, Kaneko quick to move out of the way as the guy came in, followed shortly by Yanagi carrying as much bags as he could, only tilting his head in greeting as he walked by to drop the bags down somewhere. The others move out to help bring the rest, which all seemed to just hold foodstuffs. It made sense, of course, they needed food after all.

The group all eventually settle, dispersing within the house to get comfortable with the new living situation, Murakami sticking himself in the living area with all three dogs happily settling themselves around him. Sakurada found it rather sweet, even if Murakami himself didn’t seem to want to pay them much attention at the moment. His attention was instead watching penguins, a perfectly valid reason to be engrossed.

Months pass, and they have been busy, doing their work and being the absolute stars that they were. Not a moment where they could get together and relax like the family they ended up making within this circle.

So Yamazaki comes up with a plan.

“ How about we all have a sleepover? It’ll be fun!” Yamazaki chirps as they all had dinner around the table, Asahina gasping a little, a smile slowly forming on her face.

“ That sounds really fun, actually! Oooh, can we roast marshmallows?” “ Isn’t that for camping?” Yanagi questions with a confused look, Asahina shrugging.

“ Marshmallows can be for any occasion if you try hard enough! It’s only this one time after all!”

Kaneko hums, drumming his fingers on the table. “ You’re not wrong! Okay! Let’s do it!” Yamazaki cheers a little, along with Asahina, Tsuchiya, and even Fanta, who seemed to have picked up the excited energy and gave a little bark in response.

After dinner they all go to grab their pyjamas, Aoyagi grabbing basic family games for them to play whenever they felt like it, setting them up in the living room as the others start to come in, apparently very excited about hanging out in a much more loose way and relaxing.

But apparently relaxing and this group never mixed long, as not long after, Aoyagi was practically watching the most intense game of UNO, Kaneko, Yanagi, and Miyoshi all staring each other down with cards in hand, all of them putting down Draw 2 cards one after another, Yamazaki just watching them go at it for a good while before Kaneko lightly threw his hand up when he ran out, Yamazaki giving him a look of pity as Kaneko was given 24 new cards to deal with. Not that far away, Sakurada was focused on a game of Jenga with Asahina, the two joking all the while as they tried to not topple the tower.

Tsuchiya was currently playing with the dogs, the three running after a ball she threw with excited barks and paws padding along the ground. Murakami was just sitting on the couch playing a game on his phone, Aoyagi occasionally giving him looks as he pretty much didn’t join in on the festivities of family sleepover night. At the very least he seemed to be okay with being there, the man fully free to have left to go to bed at any time.

The sweet sound of blocks hitting table and Asahina letting out a sound of surprise and disappointment catches a few of the other’s attention, Sakurada getting excited and shouting, Yamazaki clapping for his friend while Asahina dramatically flops over in defeat. Misao comes over to her and barks, tail wagging curiously and getting faster when Asahina pets the dog.

“ Thank you Misao, at least someone here supports me in my loss.” Asahina mumbles, picking up the dog and plopping Misao on her chest, Misao yipping.

“ Aww, no doggy love for me?” Sakurada places a hand on his heart, pouting in jest. Fanta appears from nowhere upon seeing Sakurada look sad, clamoring onto his lap and barking. Sakurada gasps with a dramatic air, smiling and happily petting his dog. “ Never mind! I got Fanta!”

Yamazaki chuckles, only to pause as suddenly a card flies down in front of him, Yamazaki looking over to where the UNO players where, Aoyagi meeting eyes with him as Kaneko continuing to fling cards into the sky.

“ Oh hey, this is actually pretty fun! You must’ve had fun doing this, huh Murakami?” Murakami looks up from his game upon his name being called, trying to see what was going on. “ Wh- Hm? Oh, uh…. yeah! It was pretty fun holding that flame-thrower too! Fwoosh~”

“ Playing with fire is very dangerous, you’re lucky a stunt double took in for that scene!” Sakurada says, Murakami humming and going back to his game.

“ Tell Yanagi that too, he set the Beach on fire.” Murakami comments offhandedly, Sakurada looking at the taller male “ For good reason. Very hot. Good for warming up cold, cold hearts.” Yanagi picks up the closest UNO cards around him, Miyoshi helping him pick up the scattered cards. The others pick up whatever landed closest to them to hand off to the two. Asahina leaves a bit later, coming back with marshmallows and a portable cooker to roast marshmallows over the gas fire. Mmmmmm marshmallows. So a successful sleepover, even though nothing caught on fire-

“ Aoyagi your marshmallow is on fire-“

“ Oh-“

[oyubaat-tapcaf]

Another Job Is Done //Mandalorian x Reader

Here is my first ever Mandalorian Fic, written for @propertyofdindjarin

(small remark, I used ur name so this is kind of Mando x reader but also not)

I am a huge star wars nerd so im happy you preferred a mando fic

Have fun reading!

summary: Din had a bad experience while hunting down a quarry, leaving him with his feelings clear.

wordcount: 2985

warnings: canon typical violence, kind of a near death experience, a little bit of angst but lots of fluff

The ramp of the Razor Crest made a loud hissing noise when the hydraulics started to work on opening it. As the end of it reached the floor, the Mandalorian entered his ship. He seemed exhausted. He did not strut, as usual, his body language showed, this fight hadn’t been easy. He seemed like he even got hurt, more than usual. 

Mando grunted when he pulled the unconscious quarry up into his ship. He was in pain. This womprat he’d been hunting down was hard to catch and also a very good fighter. Well, not good enough. Din closed the ramp and hurled the quarry up into his carbonite chamber then he pressed the button to freeze him. Another job is done. Finally. 

He groaned quietly under his beskar helmet and let himself fall back against the wall. He wasn’t hurt badly but he was sore. He had been awake and going for a few days now, he needed food, water, and sleep. And maybe someone to hold onto. He was gone for a couple of long days and he was on edge. He liked being alone, but since he had the kid he realized how nice a little bit of company can be. He changed since he got the child that’s why this job was a little different. The job was a well-paying one. That was because the quarry was on a planet that was hard to get to. It was behind a big dangerous nebula. There were only a few people who were able to get to the other end alive and he was lucky that one of those people was willing to help him. His piloting was good but not good enough for the turbulence he might face in the nebula. Well for 50 percent of the bounty. That was a good deal. Even half of the money was enough for Din to buy food for him and his little friend, also to buy new fuel and new bullets for his pulse rifle since he was out of them.

The Mandalorian was too proud to admit it, he liked the pilot that was with him. She was a nice and beautiful young lady. She knew what she wanted and she got what she wanted. He remembers discussing the deal with her. She knew how to make a good deal, and she wasn’t intimidated by Din's appearance. Usually, people were acting different around him, some even being afraid of him. They heard the stories of Mandalore and its population. They heard of the strong beskar armor and Mandalorian combat skills. So Din usually gets what he wants. But that pilot...she wasn’t having it. 

“Look, I know you are an amazing hunter, but I’m just as good of a pilot, so that means we will split the bounty in half, no discussion needed,” she said while sipping away on her spotchka. Her eyes were challenging him, daring him to disagree with her.

“You will fly on my ship. And I will hunt down the quarry,” Din leaned forward looking straight into her eyes. “I don’t think 50/50 will work for me.”

She scoffed and shook her head. “My way or no way, Mando. You don’t know frag about that nebula. If you want to fly through it alone, do it. But lemme tell you even your beautiful beskar can’t save you. “

Din was a little angry at first but she then smiled at him, kind of mocking him but he was so lost in her beautiful face that he just sighed and jerked back as he caught himself staring. This helmet on his head was making his life easier.

The Mandalorian nodded and they shook hands. She wanted to invite him for a drink but he declined, as he always did. 

 Din sighed, back to his current situation. He and Rae had traveled a long time together, they got in some trouble with a few pirates and they had to shoot themselves out of it. They crashed on Teth and had to repair the Crest together, spending some nights sitting together and listening to the sounds coming from the jungle that was near, sharing some stories from their past. The child was always with them and the pilot got along with Din’s little friend. 

Even if this whole mission was kind of more than the Mandalorian signed up for, he enjoyed the company of the young pilot. When they finally arrived at the nebula Din realized why she wanted 50 percent of the money. She knew what she was doing, maneuvering the crest through the turbulences and clouds of gas. Maker, Din was lost, he had so many strong feelings about her and they all came crashing down on him while he was hunting down the quarry. He had tried to suppress his feelings for her. He didn’t even know what was going on. Stars, he never fell in love before, he was a loner. The youngling made him discover his soft side. At least under all that armor.

The quarry wasn’t easy to catch and Din nearly got into some bad trouble. His opponent nearly gained the upper hand at some point, leaving Din with an experience he can save into his album of “situations to avoid”. He had lost all his weapons except for his flame thrower and before he could even think of a way to get himself out of this situation, a strong cord had wrapped around his body leaving him unable to move his hands. He heard laugher, now knowing if it just was ringing in his ears from being hit so hard before, or if someone was laughing at him. The Mandalorian heard a vibroblade buzzing to life, he had opened his eyes to see his opponent, a nautolan, grinning, standing right in front of him.

“I’ve always wanted to kill a Mandalorian before.”

He stepped forward. Din tried to move but he realized, somehow the nautolan had wrapped up his whole body with cord, he couldn’t move his legs either, leaving him sitting on the floor and watching the nautolan stepping yet another step closer to him.

“I can even keep that amazing beskar to myself,” he murmured. He reached out with his hand, the blade touched the Mandalorians helmet with a metallic noise, ringing in Din’s ears. He was tense, still needed to collect himself, trying to seek his way out. He was a Mandalorian, he was raised his whole life with the knowledge that he will eventually die. It was nothing new to him, his whole life was living from day to day, not knowing how many of them are left for him. But right now he couldn’t accept that. There was this mission bigger than him and bigger than this quarry. The child. He needed the Mandalorians' help. He was his foundling, Din needed to come back to him. But there was even more. He had suddenly felt so lonely, kneeling on the floor, a vibroblade whirring right beside his head. The Beskar clad man was in love and nobody knew about it. He never had someone to kiss, to love. The pilot didn’t even know that Din was thinking about her, every damn minute, every day he woke up, hoping he would have the courage to tell her about his feelings for her. And he never did. 

The Mandalorian had snarled, this was not the end, he was not going to die like this. The adrenaline had shot up, into his system and Din had pushed his feet against the ground, falling forward with such force that he fell into his opponent. The nautolan had lost his balance and fell forward, the blade slipping out of his hand. Din caught it and cut himself loose, then he whirled around, jumped to his feet. He had kicked the green man right into his face with his boot, the nautolan had lost his consciousness immediately. 

That’s how he got the quarry back to his ship. Din was still trembling a little, after this experience, he was so happy to be back inside the Crest, back with his foundling and back with her. He groaned again and slipped down the wall, hitting the floor. His legs sprawled out, away from him he sat on the ground as a youngling would.

“Ni'm haryc”, he murmured to himself immediately feeling the exhaustion in his tired bones. 

***

You sat in the cockpit of the Crest, fiddling with your gloves and watching the child who was soundly asleep. You were nervous about the Mandalorian's return. He was acting differently around you since a few days ago and you were afraid that he was annoyed by you. His body language was always showing that he was nervous as if your company was something he was not used to and doesn't want to get used to. 

You sighed quietly and laid your beat-up gloves down. You really hoped that Mando was safe out there. You liked him more than you wanted to admit and him getting hurt on his daily adventures had you restless at night. Especially the last two days were hard. He was hunting down the quarry and you just had to wait for him. But hunting the quarry also meant flying back home and parting ways. You didn't want that to happen. You knew it was going to happen nevertheless but you felt the urge to kick something when you thought about leaving the Razor Crest and its amazing team. 

The Youngling was so cute and surprisingly good at keeping you company. You realized that you could even learn from him, in a way. 

And Mando, let's say it, you were into him. He was kind and polite, always trying to make your stay on the Crest comfortable. But you also liked his darker side that shot pirates and threw them off of his ship while it was in the air. He protected his family like he would protect his eyeball. 

You were ripped from your thoughts as you heard the hydraulic ramp slid down. Probably Mando, he was the only one besides you who had access to the Crests controls. Hopefully, it was him. You waited a few seconds. You heard steps and something hitting the wall. Then you heard the Carbonite chamber go off. Yep, it was Mando. He was back. 

"Kriff, finally," you whispered and got up from the pilot seat. The child was still asleep so you left him in his little pod. 

You slowly made your way down the ladder down to the cargo hold, as you reached the floor you saw the Mandalorian sitting on the floor, legs sprawled out like a child would seeming weak, exhausted, hurt. You were shocked at how weak he looked, you never saw him that way before. You looked at his muddy boots and his dirty armor, his cape was ripped apart and soaked in mud too. 

Mando looked like an injured Crayt Dragon, majestic but hurt, weak. Full of rage and fire but not able to use it anymore. He was panting his helmet leaned back against the wall, hands left weak beside his legs, his gloves also muddy. You started to panic. Is he okay?

“Are you okay, Mando?” you asked and made a step forward. Careful. 

He turned his head a little so his visor was facing you. 

“...No.” he pressed out. Even under that mud, his beskar was gleaming in the dim light of the Crests cargo hold. You were always kind of hypnotised by the way his armor reflected the lights. You knew that he knew it, he had caught you staring various times. But he had never mentioned it or called you out on it. It even seemed like he enjoyed it. You remember one time, as you were repairing his ship he caught you staring as he was welding some parts together and you were mesmerized at how beautiful the lightning bow was reflected by his beskar plates. He had turned around, looking at you stopping everything he was doing. 

You stared back right into his visor not being able to look away. He had tilted his head a little bit, so slowly as if he was grinning at you. You could only imagine but you knew he had a smug smirk going on under that damn helmet. You could just smirk back at him shrugging. 

He had chuckled, so softy, his shoulders shaking, just a little. Then he had turned back around and started welding again. 

“Kriff, Mando, what’s wrong, do you need help?” now really panicking as you got pulled back into reality.

“No,” he answered, again. 

Now you were just confused. What was wrong with him. He was acting weird and you didn’t know what to do. 

“What are you talking about…? I-” 

“Shhh.” he shushed you. “Don’t panic. I’m not hurt.” 

You relaxed a little, you weren’t very good at playing doctor and you knew that if Mando would get hurt bad, you wouldn’t be able to help him properly. Your shoulders dropped in relief.

“Maker, you were really scaring me. Don’t do that again Mando.” 

The Mandalorian chuckled. Him chuckling was very rare so you knew something was up. The last time you heard him chuckle was when he caught you staring.

“I am okay. I’m sorry for scaring you. I am kriffing sore.” he huffed, looking at his dirty boots and at the trail of mud he left on the floor. “I...I had a hard time. I- ...yeah.” he was stuttering. 

You looked at him questioningly. He still acted strangely.

You closed the small gap between the two of you and sat down in front of him with your legs crossed. His visor followed your movements. 

“You don’t seem okay to me, Mando.” you whispered looking at him,

You saw his shoulders rising, just a few millimeters, but far enough for you to know that you hit a nerve.

“I…” he paused again, slowly taking off his dirty gloves revealing his skin. You never saw him take anything off, this was the first time him showing you his skin. Oh boy, somethings coming.

He laid his gloves down between his legs, looking at them for a little too long as if he was still thinking, forming sentences in his head.

“Look, I had a hard time today. I nearly got into some...bad trouble and- “ he stopped and cleared his throat.

Your heart rate picked up on speed as he raised his head to look at you again. Your hands trembled a little but you realized he was too. He was nervous. 

“I just realized that if I died, I would die alone. Like, I mean I know the child would miss me but...I never had someone...special.” his helmet tiled down at his trembling hands again.

“Someone special?” your mouth was dry like kriffing Tattooine. Your heart was beating, you could even hear it, stars, Mando could probably hear it too.

“Yeah. I never thought about that stuff. I always liked being alone. But since….” he stopped again taking a deep breath. His voice was rough as he continued.

“...since I met...you, I realized how lonely I am.”

You didn’t know what to answer to that. You knew what he was trying to tell you but didn’t dare to help him out and say what you wanted to say. You were too nervous. You both sat in awkward silence for a few seconds which seemed endless.

“Look, I….you...you are special to me.” he gulped and looked up again. His voice was muffled, his vocoder having a hard time picking it up. But you heard him still.

“Mando...stars.” you felt your cheeks heat up. Hearing these words out of his mouth felt so strange. The Mandalorian, who was always short on words, telling you he had a crush on you. You didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I’m sorry.” he sighed and his gaze dropped again. “I shouldn’t have said that.” his shoulders dropped and he suddenly looked so small.

“No, no wait, Mando. I...you can’t imagine how...how. Oh well.” you never were good at feelings. “I am feeling the same...about you. It feels like you are my missing piece.”

As he looked up at you this time you could tell he gained his confidence back. 

“You know,” he started. “ You know, you were on my mind all the time as I was hunting down this womp rat.” he gestured to the frozen nautolan. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up even more. You must look like an idiot as you were smiling at him. All those times you were thinking about him you didn’t know he was thinking about you too.

He suddenly held out his hand. His bare hand. No dirty Mando-Gloves with holes that had been stitched up poorly. His bare skin.

“Please take my hand, cyare.” he murmured.

You were surprised by his nickname for you, probably mando’a. You slowly reached out and gently took his hand. His skin was warm and soft just like you imagined it. As your fingers intertwined with yours he slowly and gently pulled you closer to him. You followed his movements until you were sitting awkwardly between his sprawled-out legs, very very close to him. He smelled like gunpowder.

He cradled both of your cold hands in his warm ones, his hands were so big next to yours. 

“My name is Din.” he breathed and even if his eyes were covered you knew he was looking deep into yours. You were surprised that he had told you his name, since it’s sacred, and hidden, like his face. 

“That’s a beautiful name.” You smiled. 

He chuckled and cradled your face with one hand while pulling your other hand down to his cold breastplate. 

 “Thank you, senaar.” 

[wrestling0neshots]

Guardian Angel - Kane

Kane's script writer took a few months off. In their absence things went very wrong. They'll go to hell before they see it carry on.

Written for Alverae on AO3 Originally posted on Archive Of Our Own.

----------------------------------

"Kane vs Chris Benoit. What a match this will be." You say, the two men both in the ring now. You lean back into your chair, ready to see what has been done with Kane's character in your absence.

Four months off on vacation had been nice, you had spent the time with your family abroad. In your time off you hadn't watched any shows, kept up with any storylines, you hadn't had the time to do that. You weren't even due to come back until next week, but Vince had insisted you attend a show to get back into things.

And here you are, sitting front row, watching a match that you would have scripted had you been at work. Of course you often script a lot of matches, but this would would be special to you.

After all, you had been the one behind Kane for a year and a half now, excluding your four months away.

Kane had been your break through in the WWF, or.. the WWE now. You had taken him on in January 1999, and writing for a character like Kane had been a huge difference from the minor writing you had done before. Working with Kane's character had included a lot of crossing over with those writing for Undertaker, a man you had come into contact with a few times now.

Unlike Undertaker, who reached out to voice his opinion on bits to his writing team (a small team, but a team none the less) and you, Kane never came to see you about his character. In fact you had never actually in person met him. You had encountered Paul a few times, but it still wasn't Kane.

Even without meeting him you knew Kane was a great performer. You had seen the lead up to the point until you left on vacation, and had grown the character with the development of Kane. Kane was special to you, even if he didn't know it.

Everything was going fine with the match until Tori came out, which you had thought was strange. Maybe she was in a storyline with Benoit? You decide this is likely the answer as Tori attacks Paul and he retaliates, distracting Kane and causing the match to abruptly end.

Chris attacks Paul, and Kane attacks Chris, turning his attention to Tori. You lean forward in your chair, watching with curious eyes as Kane stalks Tori up the ramp. She motions as if begging Kane to leave her alone, which to you seems odd since she brought this upon herself.

You shrug, dismissing this as an inconsistency, until X-Pac comes into view. "What the hell is going on?" You ask yourself. "X-Pac and Tori are teamed against Kane. Tori and Kane were together, and Kane was in a tag team with X-Pac but they both left him." "Oh." Is all you can manage to say to the gentleman beside you, who kindly filled you in on the situation.

The whole arena gasps in unison as Kane is hit with a blast of fire from what you now see is a flame thrower. You don't stop yourself from leaping over the barricade, shoving your WWE Personelle ID card in their faces.

You reach Kane before both Paul and the Ref, thanking your lucky stars that you brought your card. You kneel beside him, worried, the red mask slightly charred. Paul pulls you up and away from Kane slightly as medics rush down, surrounding him.

"I'm glad your back." Paul states, the two of you following the medics backstage. "I don't know who they handed the script writing over to but it has been awful without you. You are back, right?" You nod. "Yes. Absolutely yes. After what I just witnessed I don't think I can wait until next week. What has been going on?"

Paul spends the next half an hour filling you in in the locker room, in a good amount of detail. And none of it is good. Kane with DX? No. What sort of an angle is that?

Right as you are about to ask Paul that exact question the door opens, and Kane walks in. "Paul I- Who is this?" He asks. You shuffle nervously in your seat.

"This is Y/n" Paul states, "the one who wrote your scripts prior to this storyline. They've been behind your storylines for over a year and took one break.. and we know how that has been." You give a little wave, plucking up the courage to say something to him yourself.

"Are you okay?" Is what you manage, the fact he has a clearly damp towel over half of his face and an ice pack on his neck. "It's nothing serious." He states. You take his word for it, instead focusing on the fact you can see his face at all.

You're used to the mask, you like the mask. At least whoever wrote the script didn't remove that. If you get your way Kane will always have a mask. It's what makes Kane.. well. Kane.

"Will you be taking back over?" He says suddenly. "I will. I'm not due to come back until next week, but I have a few ideas to get the Kane everyone loves back." You see the excited twinkle in his eye, the one that isn't covered, and know that he's just as excited for that as you are.

"Will you need any assistance with that?" Paul asks, his voice hopeful. "Well," you begin, "first I need to talk to the man at the top. But if all goes well there, Paul, I will need your help to get into contact with the team of people behind the Deadman."

Paul's eyes instantly light up. "You can't possibly be thinking what I am." He states. You shrug. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. Only time will tell. For now, I'll tell you this. I plan on picking up where I left off."

With that you stand, bidding both Paul and Kane goodbye. After all, you have to find Vince, to put across your ideas, and to make sure Kane is handled correctly from now on.

After all, you helped to create Kane, and you'll be damned if you ever see his character like this again.

[szallejhscorner]

The Perfect Sacrifice

The Human Heart - Part 11

3k words, @beewolfwrites @celestiacq @cheshiya @katkirishima

Becoming an Executive is not that easy. One has to prove their abilities multiple times, prove to be a trustworthy candidate to Hatter. People have tried so many things, have taken part in games every night hoping to collect high cards that would promote them, leading to their eventual death.

And here comes Arisu, being allowed to join the Executives on the very first day he joined the Beach because of the cards he brought with him – and the potential coming along with that. Arisu found the Beach on his own, but he doesn’t seem to feel too comfortable around here. That makes him even more perfect for the plan.

After this night’s games, only the Ten of Hearts is still missing. Hatter will join a game himself too tomorrow, and the Militants are already planning to overthrow him. It’s so obvious that there is something going on, and the fact that Hatter doesn’t seem to notice makes it even more ridiculous.

Everything is coming into place piece by piece and soon, the cards will be his.

Chishiya tucks the headphones into his ears as he ascends the stairs. A group is running around in the lobby, attacking each other with water pistols, and half of the sofas are still occupied by half-naked couples despite the late hour. Just the typical mix of kindergarten and brothel.

Most of those people have been despicable already in the real world, but the Borderlands seem to bring out even worse traits in them. Probably one of the reasons why they are all here. Flawed, some already cracked and thus easy to break, others instable enough to turn into madmen the moment all rules are being taken away.

Just what the Gamemakers have been waiting for.

He sighs as he opens the door to his room and immediately halts at the sight of someone already sitting on his bed.

“We need to talk.”

Kuina has her arms crossed and is staring towards him with a dark expression on her face while she’s chewing nervously on her cigarette substitute. Whatever it is that she wants to talk about at this time of night, at least she came alone. Chishiya hasn’t seen much of his little stubborn today, but this is not the moment to change that.

“Would you at least get off my bed?” He carefully wraps the headphones around the iPod and places the bundle on the desk next to what has once been a water pistol and finally turned into a flame thrower. At least in theory; since there hasn’t been enough time so far to test it out.

“No.” As if to prove her point, Kuina leans against the pillows. “Not until you’ve given me some answers.”

Already looking forward to the end of this conversation, Chishiya pulls a chair up to the bed and takes a seat. “Then ask your first question.” He knows Kuina well enough – there’s no way to get her out of the room without either giving in to her demands or using force. And with Kuina being a Spades player, this would turn out quite bothersome. Not to mention the fact that he’d dirty his bed.

“It’s happening soon. You have told me so, and I can feel it. Whatever is going to happen, there’s not much time left, and you want to include Arisu to it tomorrow. So we finally have to tell her at least something!”

“That’s not a question.”

Kuina stares at him with an expression that makes Chishiya glad he’s out of reach for another slap into his face. “She has to be prepared when we leave! When are you going to tell her?”

“Not at all. She won’t be coming with us.” He hasn’t changed his mind since the last time he thought about that topic. Telling her would result in her trying to either stop or follow them, and both are risks Chishiya can’t take. She will stay here, no matter what happens to the Beach, and manage to get over him soon enough. It’s for the better.

The dreadlocked woman opposite to him doesn’t seem to agree though. “Oh, no, no! No way we can leave her behind. She loves you, Chishiya!”

“And I didn’t ask her to.”

“Don’t you feel anything by leaving her behind?”

More than you’ll ever know. More than he’ll ever admit even to himself. “We’re enough people in this plan even now. It’s already a high risk without getting more of them involved.”

Chishiya watches how Kuina grabs one of the pillows and frantically pulls out some feathers sticking through the cover. If she continues this with such ferocity, there won’t be much left of the pillow soon. She doesn’t even look up when she speaks, but her voice is pressed with tension. “You agree to take Arisu with you, but she’s one too many.”

Only that Arisu won’t come with them once he has served his purpose. But there’s no need to make Kuina more upset than she already is. “Stay here if your friend is so important for you. I’m not forcing you to follow me.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” When Kuina lifts her eyes to face him, her expression is bewildered. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

His fingers move over the back of his hand, where Chishiya can still feel the traces of fingertips writing certain characters on it. He’d rather make Kuina believe that he’s too coldhearted to care, instead of trying to make her understand why he has to leave his stubborn behind - despite everything that has been going on recently.

“Exactly: this is about me. No one else. Was that the last one of your questions now?”

Kuina shakes her head and throws aside what is left from the pillow, leaving a trace of feathers all over his bed. “I don’t understand you, Chishiya. I really thought you’d care about her.”

She has no idea how much easier it would be if he didn’t care at all.

“Please, consider it. I don’t want her to end up in Niragi’s claws… or maybe even worse. Who knows what happens once they realize the cards are gone – and it’s no secret she likes you. Maybe you don’t care about her feelings, but I can’t imagine you want her to be tortured because of you!”

People are being hurt or killed all the time. Sometimes it can’t be helped, especially not in the Borderlands. He’d prefer it not to happen to his stubborn, but risking it is the price he has to pay.

Kuina won’t accept that, but since Chishiya has been honest to her about most parts of the plan so far, she trusts his words to a point where he can allow himself one small lie.

“Alright. I’ll think about it.”

He won’t change his mind, but Kuina sighs in relief and finally returns to her own room, leaving him alone with the mess of feathers.

 -

Once again, the timing couldn’t be more perfect. Chishiya didn’t even have to do anything for Arisu to stumble upon the corpses of those considered traitors to the Beach. All he has to do is to take the opportunity and get the boy’s attention while the shock is still fresh, and Arisu agrees in an instant.

That boy is so determined to change the world into a better place and get his climber girl, Usagi, out of this, that he’s willing to do everything that is needed to fulfill Chishiya’s plan. Arisu is so smart and yet so naïve… there couldn’t have been someone more suited for this.

The perfect sacrifice.

Hatter is leaving for a game on top of that, and judging by the Militant’s suspicious behavior, there’s a high chance he might not come back alive. Standing apart from the cheering crowd, Chishiya makes out one person who doesn’t seem to be amused at all while he and Kuina return from the rooftop.

“Don’t like to celebrate?” he smirks as he approaches his stubborn, and the woman turns around with a frown. The bruises have mostly turned yellow and the swellings aren’t as bad anymore, although she still looks quite battered. But the worried expression doesn’t last long, and she wraps her arm around his the moment Chishiya is on the same level. A moment after, he feels the pressure of her head against his shoulder. Craving for physical attention, as always.

“Nah… I don’t see a reason why. They treat Hatter like a god, but he is no different than any of us. It’s not…” She winces in pain as if she’s not fully comfortable with her current position. “Sure, we owe Hatter the Beach. This place is great in many ways, but I still don’t think that qualifies him to be praised like this.”

Wise words indeed. “Hatter is in fact the salvation for many of these people”, Chishiya only has to think about all the criminals and lawless unfolding under the wings of their ever-lenient leader, but they will be perfectly fine without him. Which won’t be the case for those who are unable to survive on their own. “It would be a catastrophe for them if he died tonight.”

“It would be bad if he died. I don’t think the Beach would remain the same safe place anymore.”

Hatter’s car disappears, and the partying people move back towards their alcohol. No one pays attention to their conversation, and the expectation in Kuina’s eyes is obvious. She waits for him to lay out their plan to the stubborn as well, here and now.

“What’s the difference between Hatter dying in a game or leaving the Borderlands as soon as all cards are gathered? The Beach will change, no matter what. And not to the better.”

She sighs in frustration and tightens the wrap of her hand around his arm. “At least you’ll be here for a little while longer before you’ll become Number 1.”

Not quite. Chishiya can’t react fast enough to hide the tension in his body, and his silence is enough for Kuina to realize he won’t be revealing anything to the woman next to him today.

“I don’t know about you two, but now that Hatter’s party is over, I could use something to eat.” The tall woman quickly tries to change the subject, and as it seems, with success. His puppy straightens herself at the mention of food and immediately drags him towards the kitchen, giving him a wide smile while doing so. A smile that doesn’t quite reach the sparks in her eyes.

“I’d die for a double cheeseburger!” Kuina throws in while they walk past the pool, “with extra cheese and onions. And some fries. The more fat, the better.”

“Blech! Kuina!” Chishiya can feel the other woman shaking herself at the thought, but it makes her laugh nonetheless.

“What? You probably have never eaten a proper burger if you think like that. You look rather like one of those persons who would order a salad inside a restaurant.” Kuina shakes her head, and as Chishiya watches both of his companions, there’s no doubt that they would make great friends in the real world. They have probably exchanged addresses and phone numbers already – which won’t be helping since most of the people have taken their phones into the Borderlands, destroying them shortly after since none of them is working anymore.

“I honestly don’t get it”, Kuina rambles on. “Why would people order a salad when they’re already going out for dinner? You don’t walk into a bar and ask for a water bottle either!”

Good that Chishiya usually visits neither bars nor restaurants.

“Oi, Chishiya!” The arm that isn’t occupied by a certain stubborn is being punched by Kuina. “What did you eat before this? You don’t look like someone who can cook.”

Definitely not. “Why? Just because I’m a man?”

The kitchen turns out to provide something edible for all of them, although it’s not burgers or salad, and like so many times before, Kuina heads to his room without even asking. It won’t be his room for much longer, so Chishiya allows it to happen.

One side of his bed is still covered in feathers, and he catches Kuina how she touches one of them with guilt written on her face. But all three of them end up sitting on the bed with a bowl of Pasta in their hands, and it seems that Chishiya is the only one feeling the tension of the changes that are about to come.

He does most of the listening while the women tell each other childhood stories, mishaps and secrets that have been promised to keep over a decade ago, and Chishiya is sure that there has never been so much laughter in his room before.

“Did you know I used to write my name wrong when I was in primary school? I did it for years!” Kuina laughs, her mouth still filled with a last spoon full of Pasta. “I knew exactly it had a different meaning, but I pretended not to notice just to upset the teachers.”

Both of the women laugh heartily, and Chishiya places his bowl aside from the bed where it joins two other already empty ones.

“I did something similar. Well, I didn’t write anything wrong, but…” his stubborn grins at a memory only accessible to her and lifts a feather to examine it closely. “I thought it was cute to end my name with a little heart. Most people found it fitting, but I remember one teacher who hated it. He’d even downgrade my works because of it.”

She yawns and throws a look outside the window, where it has already started to grow dark. Kuina keeps on telling never-ending stories from her childhood, of her father’s Dojo or the school she went to, and unlike Chishiya, the dreadlocked woman doesn’t notice how her little friend starts to doze off now and then.

Chishiya doesn’t really listen to the stories – instead he watches those tired eyes close slowly until her head moves up with a jolt, turning to him in confusion and a hint of embarrassment.

It happens about seven or eight times before she accepts the fact that she’s tired and wraps the blanket around her shoulders.

“Chishiya? Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” She says that in a joking tone, but all of them know that it isn’t meant as a joke. He even imagines it for a moment; knowing that she wouldn’t let him sleep at all, probably trying to cuddle all night long. He’s surprisingly not even completely reluctant to that thought… But it can’t happen.

“No.”

“Why not? I want to.” She grins at him, stubborn as always, caught unaware when a pillow is thrown into her face by Kuina. The exact same pillow she has almost destroyed the other day, and of course it has left a new trace of feathers on his bed. The thought of collecting them all before he can even try to sleep is bothersome, but his stubborn already absently collects them while talking.

“And I said no.”

“What if I told you that I had bedbugs in my room?”

It’s not even that unlikely for the Beach to have bedbugs, but it won’t affect him anyway. “Then I’d tell you that there are plenty of unused rooms left in the Beach.”

“And if every other room was infested except yours?”

Then it’d definitely be about time to leave this place. Kuina exhales a shriek and moves closer to her friend. The best protection against bedbugs for sure. “Eww! Then I want to sleep here too!”

Now this is a thought Chishiya definitely doesn’t approve. One woman inside his bed? Most likely bothersome, but depending on who it is, acceptable for one night. Two, with one of them being Kuina? Never going to happen.

“We both know it has nothing to do with bugs.”

The pillow is thrown back to Kuina, but it leaves fewer feathers this time. Not that there is much inside to fall out anyway. “Aww, alright. But one day, Chishiya.” She turns to him, and there it is again – the spark in her eyes. “One day. There’s still plenty of time left to try.”

She seems so sure of it, so hopeful that the Beach will be here forever. That they will be here forever. But Chishiya doesn’t give her an answer, because he knows better. This day won’t come, because their time left is very limited. He even has a feeling that this could be the last night where they sit here together and laugh – and it’s already coming to an end.

Kuina is the first to leave, not prudent enough with her wink and beaming smile for Chishiya to ignore. Her hopes are unnecessary, since his stubborn decides to leave shortly after. She would have loved to stay much longer for sure, but she knows that sleeping here is no option – and sleep is what she definitely needs now.

“See you tomorrow, then?” she asks with just another yawn, and Chishiya nods. She moves towards him and almost falls into the hug, tired as she is. Maybe she wouldn’t keep him awake that long after all even if he allowed her to-

Before he can even finish the thought, she breathes a kiss onto his cheek, blushing heavily while doing so. “Sorry! I had to.” Probably too afraid to see his reaction, she jumps off the bed and leaves the room without another look over her shoulder.

We could meet somewhere once we are able to leave this place. Continue where we stopped.

Barely able to ignore the feeling on his skin where she has left that kiss, Chishiya reaches for some pieces of paper and a pen. What he is going to do isn’t a promise or an obligation. He can simply tear it apart or throw it away any time he wants. No one ever has to know that he did it. And yet…

His stubborn has been right – her name does look nice with a little heart at the end.

[fairymadnessyeah]

BNHA Ship to Finish the Year

FuyuSei (Todoroki Fuyumi x Iida Tensei)

Canon

I think that they would either meet by Shouto and Tenya or at the hospital.

If it was at the hospital, it would be a chance meeting. Fuyumi is visiting her mom, and Tensei is going to physical therapy. They meet in the lobby and start talking.

Present Mic and Nemuri are the ones who encourage him to ask her out. -PS: None of them knows she is the daughter of Enji yet.- After he does and they date for a few weeks, he shows them a picture, and the two almost have a heart attack. They don't know how to tell him, until Shouta comes along and says it.

If they meet by Shouto and Tenya, it probably would be at a Sport Festival or Cultural Festival. They would start talking, and Nemuri would ask Fuyumi out for him. She says yes, and they exchange numbers.

Imagine if Natsuo is there: "I got the snacks. What's that?" "Oh, a phone number. I have a date this Saturday," "I- I left for five minutes!"

I feel like he would stop by her school every time he can and her students know him as wheelchair boyfriend.

And speaking of wheelchairs, Tensei sometimes feels like he is not enough for Fuyumi. He can't take her dancing or ice-skating.

Fuyumi doesn't care about it. He loves Tensei for who he is, and that is enough for her.

On her birthday, he takes her to see the Winter Illumination events, and even takes her to see ice-sculptors at a festival.

He likes to carry her on his lap and then accelerate with his quirk. He especially does it when the sakura trees are blooming, so it's more romantic. 

Also, she sits on his lap when it's hot, since she is always cold.

I don't want to break anybody's bubble but these two one hell of an age gap.

Like Tensei is 31 and Fuyumi is 23.

He is eight years older than her. That's more than Shigaraki and Toga have on each other.

Am I the first one to notice this?

I feel like it should be a big deal. Like when Tensei was eighteen, Fuyumi was ten. 

I feel like his parents would make fun of him for that. Calling him a creepy old man.

I also feel, since Tensei appeared in vigilantes, that he has a lot of vigilante friends, and one time, they all meet Fuyumi.

I feel like they would like her more than her boyfriend.

Also, he likes her cooking much more than anything else he has ever eaten before. But don't tell his mom.

Family

There is only one rule that all Todoroki men share and respect: Fuyumi needs to be protected. They don't give a crap if the guy is a retired hero, or the brother of a friend, or in a wheelchair, they won't let him hurt Fuyumi.

The first months of dating, Tensei doesn't feel safe. Like someone is staring at his back with murderous intent. He can't pin-point which Todoroki is, but his money is on Endeavour.

Actually it's all of them. They take turns keeping watch. One time, they all ended doing it at the same time. It was awkward at first, but they found a way to make it work and not kill each other.

Every single Todoroki has threatened him.

Dabi, with the help of Toga, cornered him in an alley and placed him on the floor and stepped on him.

"If you hurt sister, I'm going to finish what Stain couldn't do..."

Natsuo did it during a family dinner. He smiled and at first appeared very polite, but when Fuyumi wasn't there, the smile was gone.

"I am a doctor, you think I don't know how to get rid of you and make it look like it happened naturally?"

Enji went to meet him at his apartment. He knocked on the door asked him a few question. Tensei went along, answering everything politely, and then got the message by the last question.

"How much heat will it take for that wheelchair to melt with you in it?"

Shouto was more surprising. He called Tensei with his brother's phone and only said one thing before he hung up.

"I don't care if you are Tenya's brother's, if you don't make my sister happy, I will end you," 

I feel like Rei wouldn't be okay with the idea until she sees that Tensei is defensless in a wheelchair. 

I know it's a bad thought, and Rei knows so, but after everything she went through, you can't blame the woman for it. Her daughter is with a HERO. At least, if he is in a wheelchair, she can do better to survive.

Tenya loves his new sister. He hasn't seen his brother so happy since the accident, and he always wanted a sister. 

The Iida's love her.

She is an angel in their eyes. Their son is in such good hands.

I feel like they would have two kids. First a girl Iida Fubuki, a girl, and then Iida Kaen, a boy.

Fubuki has blue hair with white highlights. Her name means blizzard in Japanese and her quirk is that she has engine pipes on her wrist that shoot dry ice.

Kaen has blue hair with red highlights. His name means Flame Thrower in Japanese and his quirk is that he has engine pipes on his ankles that shoot flames.

Neither of them become heroes. I feel like both families give them enough reasons not to follow that career.

Fubuki becomes an ice skater, using her quirk for presentations and speed.

Kaen becomes a musician. A hard, metal punk rocker and uses his quirk for shows. He was closer to Dabi than his sister. 

AU - Fantasy AU 

So, Fuyumi is a princess. Because, of course, she is. 

Tensei is a knight, and he comes from a long line of knights.

One day, her life is threatened by a new rogue called Stain, who is killing off noble families and royals.

Tensei is tasked with protecting the princess at all cost. But it's a harder task than he originally thought.

His job was to stick by the princess side as much as he could, but on his second day, he lost her. 

He found her later on a hut on the countryside, teaching young girls how to read and write and other basic knowledge. She wears a disguise, so others don't recognize her. With a tattered dress and a spell to make her hair black, she is unrecognizable.

Tensei doesn't stop her from doing it when he finds out and instead helps her sneak out and helps with the angry sexist man that come around.

It all goes well until Stain attacks.

He ambushes them on the road, and the only reason that they survive is that Fuyu shows Stain she is not like other royals.

As Tensei was trying to protect her and getting in the way, the rogue was going to kill him. But before he can, Fuyumi gets in the way, pleading that he lets Tensei live.

Stain leaves and Tensei and Fuyumi are alright.

When they return to the castle though, Tensei is looked down with dishonour by the rest of the court. He is fired from his job as a knight with the princess, but Fuyumi then hires him back again. 

The two continue to spend time together, and all seems happy. But then, Fuyumi is betrothed.

Tensei tries to handle it with dignity since he is only a knight and knew in the back of his mind, that Fuyumi would get married one day. But he is a jealous mess when the fiance arrives.

He follows them around, stops them whenever they get too close and intervenes whenever the man makes a move on her.

Fuyumi, though grateful, has to ask him to stop. Because even if she would prefer it was him, she is marrying, if he angers her fiance, they are going to behead him.

They don't have to worry about it though, because, before the wedding, the lost prince Touya returns and takes the throne. 

However, even if Dabi, now the new king, breaks her marriage off with her betrothed, Fuyumi doesn't like how much he is ruling.

The two get in a fight, and Dabi tells her that if she doesn't like it, then she can leave. He won't stop her.

The next day, Fuyumi starts packing. She tells Tensei that he can stay if he wants, he doesn't have to follow her.

Tensei confesses his feelings for her and then starts packing. 

They leave a week after and they settle on a farming land where Fuyumi opens a school for girls and Tensei hunts and collects stuff to sell.

Fanon Oponion

So, again, I can't see these two having sex.

I just can't.

I don't know why. And AO3 seems to agree with me since I found 3 where they have sex, and it's not just mentioned. 

One was a Fuyubowl, the other was a crackfic, and the last one traumatized me.

For the most part, they are a background couple.

And not in the way Hagakure and Ojiro are a couple where you might find more than 10 fics about them, but as 'we don't want Fuyumi to be alone, so in this fic she is with Tensei.'

I feel like they are underappreciated, especially Fuyumi.

Girl is still holding on after the shitty situation she is in. She is the only sane Todoroki in here. 

And poor Tensei. He didn't deserve what happened to him. Stain didn't have a very clear objective.

There's also the fact that not much is known about them.

Like Tensei has not been mentioned since the stain arc.

They are just there...

But people love making next-gen kids with them.

[awkwardnoob]

More Pokémon AU nonsense.

I’ve said it before in another post, but Therion doesn’t have any Pokémon to start, before finding a shiny, female Salandit with Alfyn. She was literally hours old when they found her, attacked and shunted from the nest for being shiny. Therion is her New Mama and that’s all she knows, completely unaware he was planning to sell her for like, an entire hour after finding her (but after that she’s his forever, even if he’s in denial for weeks/months).

Therion, for some reason, ends up with all babies. His second Pokémon is a Cubone. Alfyn befriended a female Marowak that knew how to crush berries with her bone and make medicine (She also knows strength and is a fucking power house, the two of them are kindred spirits), so when she wanted to go with him, he knew he had to catch her baby too, obviously. Except the Cubone had befriended Therion’s Salandit, and the Marowak instead encouraged her baby to be caught by Therion, because that’s what he really wanted (also since they were all clearly traveling together, she was aware there was no harm). If I wrote a fic Cubone probably wouldn’t evolve anytime within it (because it’s just too young), but it’s father was Alolan, and the travelers (or Cyrus, more accurately) realize Therion’s Cubone has that heritage because it learns a fire type move specific to Alolan Marowak. (Cubone in this au learn some more fire attacks if they’ll evolve into Alolan form, and there doesn’t need to be any everstone holding/regional breeding nonsense, having an alolan and a normal parent essentially gives the baby a 50/50 chance of being either. It is decided at birth/in the egg tho, so Therion’s Cubone is definitely evolving into the Alolan form) Both the Cubone and Salandit learn thief at some point.

Therion’s 3rd Pokémon is a Houndour. House Ravus’ guard dogs are Houndoom/Houndour, and Therion’s Houndour is a spunky little bastard pup who dreams of glorious battle. The Dog Trainer was having massive trouble getting him to behave, and said something about “breaking his spirit” in Therion’s vicinity. Therion kinda saw himself in the Houndour and snatched it up, fleeing the manor. (And Cordelia didn’t give one single fuck about it, because she has like 50 of them and this one clearly was not suited for the guard dog life anyway) The Salandit and Cubone are basically weak as shit, because Therion doesn’t need strong Pokémon, he’s done fine this long alone, so he’s content letting them be babies, but the Houndour loooooves battle and he will attack the other Traveler’s Pokémon for training so Therion ends up battling with him a lot to stop that behavior and as enrichment. One stronk puppy. It always starts its battles with howl, and knows bite and fire fang. Probably learns flame thrower or fire blast at one point from another Houndoom (not related to House Ravus, more likely related to something with Aeber)

Therion is naturally loved by fire types. At least once, Therion has come to House Ravus, only for all the Houndour to break formation and he gets the wind knocked out of him from being tackled by like 50 puppies who all want to snuggle.

Cordelia, like Therion, did not start out with a Pokémon. Unlike Therion, this is not because of massive trust issues, she just didn’t have one. Except when one of their Houndoom birthed a litter of pups, one was shiny, so the staff offered it to Cordelia to see if she wanted it first before training it as a regular guard dog. Cordelia’s Houndour and Therion’s are siblings from the same litter. Cordelia’s Houndour is sort of trained as a guard dog so it can guard her, but it’s more her companion/pet so she spoils and pampers it. Between one of Therion’s visits to the manor, his houndour replaces bite with crunch, and the two houndour end up wandering off together. Cordelia and Therion find them, Therion’s trying to tutor Cordelia’s into learning crunch, because Cordelia’s Houndour wants to protect her with all his might.

Heathcote has a Houndoom, but that’s more because most House Ravus staff have at least one of the line. (Seriously, there are so many Houndour/Houndoom around that mansion, they should just rename it to House Houndour). Heathcote normally walks around with an Indeedee. He has one other Pokémon, that was his partner as a thief. It’s fairly old and he doesn’t use it often in favor of letting it live the retired life, but it’s still very bad ass and it’s what outs him as a fellow thief to Therion. Probably a fire type, as fire types are considered Aeber’s type (Sealticge gets the dark types), but I’m not quite sure what it is.

The gods do have their own teams, and they are very strong and very weird. Their Pokémon are essentially immortal and can learn moves a regular one can not learn. (Aelfric’s Chandelure, which is used for the kindling, knows Sacred Fire, for example) But Aeber has several fire types in his possession. One is his own Salandit, that’s regular colored and male. Unlike Therion’s Salandit, that is extra smol because she’s baby, Aeber’s Salandit is extra chonky. Imagine a Totem Salandit. He’s also just fat, because Aeber overfeeds him. Aeber also has a Houndoom, who ends up battling/mentoring Therion’s Houndour at some point. Possibly several points. Since it’s Aeber, he probably does have stuff like Moltres. He’s a god, he can have as many legends as he wants. The gods aren’t entirely tied to their type, they can have anything they want (Aelfric is the god of normal types and Chandelure is neither), but they definitely have types they prefer. There is also more than 13 types, so there is some overlap. Aeber is also known as a patron of poison types, but so is Dohter, despite them being the healer. (Dohter’s main type is ice tho, while they share grass types with Alephan, who is the entire reason the concept of starters exist. The type connections tend to web)

Instead of 13 there is now 14 gods in the Pantheon, because Arceus is included. The story goes that the 13 gods took care of Arceus’ egg, and when it hatched, they all created the universe together.

[acklest]

I. The Virus

LIBRARY.

DEAN: So it's not a demon thing, like a... a Croatoan thing? SAM: Dude, I've looked for all the signs that would prove this was a demon thing or an angel thing or any other kind of monster thing, and they're not there. I mean... I think it's just a virus. DEAN: Awesome. So a virus is out there killin' people and we just, what... SIT AROUND? SAM: *wryly* You know, there HAVE been non-monster viruses now and then. Swine flu, Ebola... DEAN: *sullenly* I don't like it. SAM: *mock sympathetic* I know it frustrates you when you can't punch or kill something. DEAN: Oh, bite me. SAM: *standing up to stretch* I'm hitting the hay, man. I'm beat. DEAN: *turns the laptop around and reads what's on the screen* SAM: Don't stay up all night reading about this shit, you'll make yourself crazy. *walks away* DEAN: *to himself* Still pretty sure Ebola was a demon thing. SAM: *from the hallway* We never proved that!

THE NEXT MORNING.

DEAN: *in the same place where Sam left him, staring at something on the screen with glassy eyes* SAM: Seriously? *walks around to see what Dean is looking at* Oh. You're watching a movie, I thought you were binging on — *watches the movie for a few seconds* Is this —? You're watching Outbreak. Okay. *confiscates the laptop* Dean: HEY!

II. The Virus is Stateside

NEWS VIDEO: Health officials advise a distance from others of at least six feet. SAM: *scoffs* Yeah, that'll help. DEAN: *sitting approximately four inches away* What, like it can go a little over five feet, but six feet is right out? That's stupid.

*****

DEAN: *bent down, examining the bunker's open door while wearing a 50s-era black respirator over his face* SAM: *already exasperated* What are you doing? DEAN: *muffled grumpiness* SAM: The door seal is fine, the way you're checking it is probably making it worse. DEAN: *muffled denial, offended gestures* SAM: I SAW you pulling on the seal when I walked up. You're overreacting anyway. DEAN: *muffled thoughtful tone and rising inflection* SAM: Don't turn this into a project just because you think the mask is cool. DEAN: *standing, amused tone* SAM: No, you look like an idiot, you're probably letting who-knows-what into the bunker — DEAN: *turns back to the open door* SAM: And since that mask is like a hundred years old, you're probably breathing in asbestos. DEAN: *hastily removes it from his face, and holds it far away with two fingers* Ugh. Surprised you could even hear me in this damn thing. SAM: I couldn't. *walks away* DEAN: *confused, then annoyed, tosses the mask at the floor*

****

SAM: *watching a video on his computer of panicked shoppers in a Wal-mart* DEAN: *watching over his shoulder* Yep. "Dumb panicky dangerous animals", right on time. SAM: You know, with all the news reports, I'm kinda surprised YOU'RE not out there trying to buy up everything. DEAN: *drawing back* What the hell for? SAM: *gestures at the screen* Because we'll need some supplies? DEAN: *laughs incredulously* Okay, listen, at any give time, there is enough shelf-stable food in this place to hold us for four months. SAM: *dryly* I bet, all the beer and bacon we'll ever need. DEAN: No, SMARTASS, I'm talking beer, bacon, soup, coffee, dried meats, pasta, rice, dehydrated milk — SAM: *hands up defensively* Okay, I'm sorry I even — DEAN: — big jugs of water, hand sanitizer, first aid stuff, your stupid fruity shampoo — SAM: Okay, I get — DEAN: I brought a bread-maker. A BREAD-MAKER, SAM. Do you know why? SAM: ...to make bread? DEAN: *slaps his hand down on the table, then points at the screen* 'Cause whenever any kind of shit hits the fan, THIS happens. That woman just bit the other woman on the FACE over toilet paper. ON THE FACE! These yahoos freak out and it can get people killed. SAM: Not to mention bitten. DEAN: *glares* It's called a contingency plan! SAM: Okay, I get it, you planned for something like this. That's awesome. DEAN: *walks away muttering* "Because we'll need supplies"... we live in a BUNKER.

****

DONNA: *over speakerphone* You kids okay? Dean wasn't answering and I got a little worried. Did I call the wrong phone? I didn't want to abuse throwing up the bat signal, but with all that's going on... SAM: No, I'm sure you... called the right one. Dean's been, uh — you know, since they said that there were some people diagnosed in New York, he's been... [internal: batshit crazy] ...preoccupied. DONNA: I tell you, I'm jealous of the grocery store he put in that place. Almost lost an eye this morning just trying to buy a can of cinnamon rolls! They're not even shelf-stable. SAM: *brow furrowed* Uh, yeah, he — he made a good call with that. DONNA: Hey, can you put him on the phone? I just wanna say hi. DEAN: *walking purposefully down the hall, wearing goggles, a red bandanna over the lower half of his face, with a rope over one arm, duct tape in one hand, and a what appears to be a makeshift flame thrower* SAM: Oh god. *to Donna* Hold on for just a — DEAN?! What are you doing? DEAN: *distantly* CONTINGENCIES! SAM: *to Donna* Dean is either about to set something in the ventilation system on fire or... or maybe rob a train. I'll call you back.

*****

DEAN: *wearily* I thought there might be something wrong with the ventilation. SAM: Yeah, I get that. But you’re not getting the flame thrower back. You can keep your stupid rope, though. DEAN: *looking down at the rope* Was that Donna on the phone? SAM: Yeah, she was worried about you because she called and you didn't answer. DEAN: Was gonna call her back but — *looks up* Wait, is she alright? SAM: *smiling* Besides almost losing an eye when she tried to buy a can of cinnamon rolls, she's doing fine. DEAN: *furrowed brow* A can of cinnamon rolls? SAM: I know, they're not even shelf-stable. DEAN: Right?!

III. The Virus is in Kansas

SAM: Dean, you're not even high risk. You don’t have respiratory issues or underlying health stuff. Even if you DID catch it, you wouldn't die. DEAN: *relaxes slightly* SAM: I mean, not from the virus at any rate. DEAN: *glares*

****

GARTH: *over speakerphone* How are y’all holding up? No fever, no sniffles? SAM: No, we've been staying inside, washing our hands, the whole bit. GARTH: How's Dean taking it, with his uh — SAM: *looks around and listens to make sure Dean isn't nearby* They just identified a couple of cases in the state and he is LOSING it. GARTH: *laughs* Yeah, I figured he wasn't going outside for awhile. SAM: That's the thing. He DESPERATELY wants out of here. He NEEDS to get out of here. I know the look. GARTH: But outside is — SAM: Right. GARTH: So you're dealing with a recluse who has cabin fever. SAM: *huffs* Welcome to my world. GARTH: Full hazmat gear, spraying you with hand sanitizer? SAM: *hastily takes the call off speakerphone* Please don't tell him that they come in sprays. GARTH: *laughs* He won't hear it from me. Well, at least you guys don't have to go shopping, huh? Not with that big supply cache of yours. SAM: You know about that? GARTH: He sent me some pictures when he started a few months back. It's crazy organized. We're thinking of doing something like that ourselves. SAM: Yeah it's... it's something else. GARTH: You should TRY to get him out of the house. Maybe if he sees a little bit of the outside, he'll realize it's not like 28 Days out there. SAM: *mentally adds that movie to the “NO” list* If I can manage to talk him into it. GARTH: Well, I'll let you go. Tell Dean I said hey and you two try not to kill each other for once. SAM: *smiling* Nice. GARTH: *pause* Oh god, why did I say "for once", I don't know where that — I just mean, don't go crazy or — oh god, I'm just gonna hang up.

*****

KITCHEN.

SAM: I don't think you need to wear the mask inside. DEAN: *through mask* You coughed this morning. SAM: I choked on some toast, Dean! It was ONE COUGH. DEAN: All I'm sayin' is, you weren't coughin' before, then you go out and now — SAM: I only went out because you wouldn't shut up about the masks! DEAN: I didn't mean GO OUT, in all that — *vaguely gestures at the outside world* I meant it would be good to have some if we HAD to go out. SAM: *hopeful* So now that we have them, you might go out? DEAN: Why the hell would I do that? SAM: You just said — DEAN: HAVE to go out, Sam! HAVE to. SAM: Dean, I promise you, it's really not that bad. Take the stupid thing off, at least in here. DEAN: *firmly* No. SAM: *closes book loudly* Okay. *reaches across to pull the mask off one of Dean's ears* DEAN: Hey! Don't touch the face! SAM: *sees that there's a second mask underneath the first one* Seriously? DEAN: CONTINGENCIES!

*****

JODY (over text): You boys sheltering in place? SAM: all locked down SAM: what about you guys? JODY: We're all socially distant here JODY: And a couple of us are emotionally distant just to be on the safe side JODY: But the wifi went out yesterday and I thought there'd be blood on the floor SAM: well at least we still have internet SAM: for now at least JODY: And like a million books JODY: And the grocery store Dean put in can't hurt either SAM: he told you about that? JODY: Told me? He sent me a three minute video tour SAM: *eyeroll* JODY: He's so proud it's cute JODY: Not like "I killed Hitler" proud but it was up there

*****

SAM: *knocks on Dean's door* It's like, noon, dude. *starts to push the door open* Even for you that's — *looks at the made-up bed* Damn it. SAM: *loudly addressed to the entire bunker* Dean?! *to himself* Oh god, don't tell me he went back up to the ventilation. DEAN: *distantly* In here. SAM: *walking towards the sound to the "war room" of the bunker, which is dark* Dean? DEAN: Quit yelling, I'm right here. SAM: *hits the lights* DEAN: *blinking and wincing at the map table, eight books around him* Dude... SAM: Why are you sitting here in the dark? DEAN: *defensively* The table lights up. SAM: That doesn't mean it's — whatever. What are you doing in here? DEAN: Well... *starts to rub his face but looks at his hand and drops it back to the table* I was thinking, this thing runs on some kind of network right? SAM: The bunker? Yeah. DEAN: So this place is protected from bombs, nuclear fallout, tornadoes... and "other environmental concerns", whatever the hell that means. SAM: *smiles* Not very comprehensive. DEAN: Right. Environmental, is that germs? Could that mean germs? SAM: That would probably be under something like "biological concerns." I don't think "germ warfare" was big on the priority list at the time, or at least there wasn't much they could do about it. DEAN: *sleepily* I guess not. SAM: *picking up one of the books* These are like... old programming books. DEAN: Yeah... I thought maybe I could figure out how to make adjustments to the ventilation so that maybe it was... I don't know, more strict? Granular? I don't know, man. SAM: Is there a way to do that? DEAN: *dry laugh* Oh sure. SAM: One where we don't suffocate and die? DEAN: Not so much. SAM: That's what I thought. *picks up another book* FORTRAN? COBOL? Dean, no one under 80 years old knows either of these. DEAN: That's not true, there's YouTube tutorials. SAM: *stares at him* DEAN: I'm not sayin' they were helpful. I'm just... sayin'. SAM: *flips through another* Dean, this one's written in Cyrillic. DEAN: Hadn't gotten to that one yet. It'd probably make about as much sense as the others. At least COBOL has like... words. SAM: So your plan was to sit here for hours and hours, in the dark, in your stupid pajamas — DEAN: *glances down at pajamas, hurt* SAM: — to try and tweak something that was obviously built as a closed system to prevent exactly what you were planning to do, that may even run partially on MAGIC — DEAN: What the hell else am I supposed —? SAM: —  With no programming know-how of any kind, you were just gonna sit here all night until you learned a programming language from the 1950s? DEAN: *mumbling* Does sound kinda like bullshit when you lay it all out. SAM: It IS bullshit! DEAN: Whatever. Man, I'm just saying... if this place starts to malfunction, I won't have any idea what to do. None. And then the MoL are SoL, dude. SAM: *rolling his eyes* Okay, get up. We have to get you out of here, just for a few minutes. DEAN: What? Go out there?? SAM: Yes. Wear your mask, wear seven masks, but we have to get you out of here before you make us both crazy. DEAN: No. SAM: Look, when you go out there, you'll see that it's not that bad. Just a few minutes, dude. Down the road! You won't even have to get out of the car. DEAN: No? SAM: No. *puts his hand out to help Dean up* But you should sleep first, you look like you're about to fall over. DEAN: *slaps Sam’s hand away and gets up by himself* Fine. SAM: *smirks* "The MoL are SoL"? How long have you had that one on tap?  DEAN: *grins* A couple of weeks now.

****

DEAN: *in his dead guy robe, trying not to fall asleep over his cup of coffee* SAM: Still can't sleep, huh? DEAN: *without opening his eyes* Don't wanna throw off my sleep schedule. SAM: Dude, you HAVE no sleep schedule. DEAN: Can you give me like... a half-hour before you start nagging me? SAM: I'm not nagging you! I just... So I just got off the phone with Jesse... DEAN: *opening his eyes* New Mexico Jesse? Are those two alright? SAM: They're just fine, they're out in the back of beyond. They were already doing the social distance thing. DEAN: *closing eyes again* Good. SAM: But Jesse asked me if you had worked out the cooling issue with your... supply... grocery thing, and... I've never seen it. DEAN: I wasn't gonna show you until it was done. SAM: But you sent the pictures or whatever to like, every number in your contacts. DEAN: Well they don't have to live off of it, but you do, so you can see it when it's done. SAM: Well... technically... Garth sent me a picture, so I have... kind of seen it already. DEAN: *opening eyes again, cursing under his breath* SAM: So show me what all the fuss is about. DEAN: *sighs* Alright, fine. *pushes his chair back from the table* But there's one last thing I need to do, so don't judge it yet. DEAN: *walks farther down the hall to a room marked "Cold Storage", looks hesitantly at Sam, then squares his shoulders to open the door and hit the lights* Go on. SAM: *walking inside* Cold storage? Isn't this where — Whoa. *looks at neatly organizes metal shelves, upon shelves, upon shelves, a colorful display of beers, and three freezers along the back wall* Dude. DEAN: *a little proud, rests against one of the freezers with his arms crossed* I mean, it's a bunker, so it's stupid that we just had bread and ground beef and milk in the fridge, you know? The room was just sitting here, might as well use it. SAM: *smiles a little at the bread-maker on one shelf with some bread next to it and snags a piece, chews for a moment, then spits it out* Oh my god, that's the driest thing I've ever tasted. DEAN: *offended* I'm a beginner! SAM: Right. Sorry. *looks around* What's not done? DEAN: *gestures at a back corner with an empty table* I'm gonna try to set up some lights in here and try to grow some vegetables, maybe one of those big fans. You just grow them in big pots and I wanted there to be like, a tomato or a carrot before you saw it. *grins wanly* Can't stock up on four months worth of salad for your dumb ass, so... SAM: *laughs* Yeah, guess not. Dude, how long did this even take? DEAN: Started a few months back, just working on it a little bit at a time. Wasn't gonna use the freezers because, you know, corpses were in there, but buying those suckers new is expensive. These still seemed to work fine, so I just cleaned them. *frowns slightly*  Like a few times. SAM: It looks awesome. DEAN: Cooling system thing took awhile. I mean, fine for corpses, but not for long-term freezing. *yawns* Then there was too MUCH cooling so that was a mess. Had to rewire some of the outlets for voltage after I did that. *yawns again* There was already a generator set aside for this room, but a couple of weeks back, I set up a back-up generator that runs independently so if we... SAM: *turns away from the shelves* So if we what? DEAN: *chin resting on chest, snoring softly* SAM: Great. Why can’t this ever happen near like, a couch or a bed? 

IV: The Virus is in Lebanon. Maybe.

SAM: So, we got you outside, and into the car. This is progress. Baby steps. DEAN: *wearing multiple masks in driver's seat* Let's just do this so you'll shut up about it and I can get back into the bunker. SAM: Still don't think you need all the guns though. DEAN: Pffpt. SAM: See, we'll just go up the street, into town. Just a few miles. DEAN: Stow it, Mr. Touchy Feely. Let me do this. SAM: *mocks gently* Okay, at your own speed. DEAN: *glares and eases the car out onto the road* SAM: See? No bodies lying in the streets, no boarded-up storefronts, it's just something that's going on and some people are dying, and that sucks, but most people are just — *gestures at some people walking down the road* Dealing with it, see? DEAN: Oh, you mean those assholes THAT ARE IN A GROUP? Roll down your window. SAM: Are you serious, you just — DEAN: ROLL IT DOWN! SAM: *rolls eyes, rolls down window* DEAN: *to the people walking* HEY, NO GROUPS! SAM: *tries to roll up the window* I'm not sure three people counts as — DEAN: Did that dude just SNEEZE? He's not wearing a mask! SAM: Dean, don't... DEAN: *yelling to the guy from Sam's window* HEY! DID YOU JUST SNEEZE? GUY: For the last time, I have allergies! DEAN: Yeah right, YOU'RE GONNA GET US ALL KILLED! SAM: *quickly rolls the window up again* DEAN: No, don't roll it up, I still — *looks out his own window* Are these two assholes MAKING OUT? SAM: Dean... no, okay, I was wrong, this was a bad idea. You were right, let's go back to the bunker. DEAN: What? No, no one's out here like monitoring these people??? If I'd known that I would've been out here weeks ago. *rolls down his own window to yell at the lovebirds* HEY! THAT'S NOT SIX FEET! SAM: *sinks down as far as he can into the passenger seat* Oh god.

Brochester Hijinks Masterlist