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sinon36 · 6 months

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Echoes of Salvation: Negotiations (Part II). Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab reader

Part I

Warnings: none, really, just some casual fluff and domestic stuff, maybe some grammar error and misspellings.

Enjoy!

The story starts after the dash.

Synopsis:

It’s been five years since the outbreak happened. Five years ago, in London, a terrorist group released a virus in the city center. 24 hours later, people start developing flu-like symptoms. 48 hours later the infected turn into mindless ghouls biting healthy people and spreading the infection. Everything happened so fast. The army came in and tried to contain the outbreak but soon chaos engulfed the whole country. You learn that similar attacks happened all over the world: New York, Beijing, Moscow, Athens, and Tokyo. City by city, the whole world is ending.

You survived thanks to your mid-twenties life crisis that made you move into a cottage house by the lake in Lake District. The land you own is surrounded by thick lush forest that offers perfect cover for the tiny brick house that is your safe haven. With a water source close, off-the-grid energy, and a garden full of plants, fruit trees chickens, and whatnot, you live a comfortable life tucked away, far from the dangers of the cities. You are so far out of reach that in the past years you only saw a handful of infected, survivors that traveled far to escape and distant neighbours that got infected in the towns nearby. You can’t remember the last time you saw another person. But you are used to your loneliness. The end of the world brought only a mild inconvenience, now that you can no longer order things online and watch movies on Netflix or HBO. But with a library full of books, a homestead to keep you active and your Border Collie companion, Bellamy, life is good. Life is peaceful.

One day, while you are out fishing, a masked man, armed to the teeth and carrying a young girl in his arms threatens to kill you if you don’t provide him with medicine for his sick daughter.

Once you get back inside you notice the little girl fast asleep on the couch a peaceful look on her face. Bellamy keeps closely to your side not letting you move without following. The masked brute stands a few paces away at the other end of the sofa, his eyes carefully scanning over his sleeping daughter. Once satisfied that she is comfortable he turns to you and gestures towards the kitchen and for you to follow him. You wait a few seconds and keep a healthy distance once you start following him. Once inside he points at the door and you shut it. You look around searching for a safe place for you to sit now that you’re trapped in here with him. You decide to sit on one of the chairs the one with your back to the wall. Bellamy lays at your feet eyes glued to him.

He leans against the wall opposite from you, arms crossed over his chest. He watches you, studies your face for a while. You try to appear nonchalant at his cold fixating glare, but your hair stands up, goose bumps forming on your skin. He clears his throat ‘I have a few more questions for you’ he says voice just as gruffy as before. ‘Like wise’ you quip from your seated position.

'Have you had run-ins with the infected?'

‘I haven't seen any for the past few months. and even before that they are rare and far in between. And to my knowledge there isn't any other person alive around this area.’ You answer as truthfully as you can.

'You're pretty isolated out here. No neighbours within a decent radius?'

‘Only the Johnsons, Neil and Margaret, they used to live about a half a mile down the lake bank. They were a retired couple.’ You reply a little sad.

'Used to?' he asks intrigued.

'Yeah. They died soon after the infection started spreading' you shudder, the image of Neil coming back to you in full force.

'How did they die?' his head lens to the side as if to take a better look at you.

‘I found Margaret dead in their garage throat ripped out. I'm guessing that Neil got infected when he went to the market in the nearby town. When he got home, he must have turned and killed his wife.’ You fumble with your hands picking at your nails and avoiding his sharp gaze.

'What about the husband? What happened to him?'

You dreaded this question. You take a deep breath to steady your quick heart and face downward in shame. 'I Killed him...' you say after some consideration. 'He attacked me and Bellamy and.... I had to...' you mumble your words not wanting to remember anymore of that terrible day.

He watches you intently, there's no sign of surprise on his face. 'You did what you had to do. There's no need to look shameful.' He seems understanding, but something about his look causes a chill to run down your spine. 'How did you do it?' He adds softly.

'The hatchet. I was out cutting wood for the stove.' you keep mumbling, a distant look on your face as you focus your eyes on spot on the table cloth.

'I see.' He says without any kind of judgment in his tone. You find it hard to look at him at this moment. 'You didn't hesitate.' He adds.

'I did. I acted out in fear more than anything.' you say lowly rubbing the back of your neck trying to rid yourself from the cold sweat taking over you.

He continues to observe you calmly, as if trying to understand you on a more fundamental level.

His expression changes slightly, becoming softer, less intimidating. 'Was it hard? Taking a life?'

'Yes.' You say looking straight into his eyes tone genuine. 'But I'll do it again if I have to.' you admit to him hinting that you are not as weak as he thinks you to be. You did manage to survive all this time alone and it wasn't all luck. You worked hard to build and improve the defence around your house and make it sustainable for a long period.

He notices your determination, and for a brief moment, he seems to respect it. 'I believe that you would, I’m counting on it' he says, voice still low. 'How did you survive on your own for so long?' he changes the subject having made his opinion of you on that matter.

'I learned how to farm. When I first move here six and a half years ago, I bought books on how grow vegetables and some medicinal herbs. Margaret was kind enough to show me how to grow chickens, I have a few in a coup behind the house' you motion with your head in that direction. 'In the back, there is a small plot of land with an orchard. Apples and cherries. I also invested in solar panels. I still have electricity and running water. Though on cloudy days the batteries half charge. I have to keep an eye on consumption.

He nods slowly, taking in the information you have shared with him. He seems to be taking mental notes of your capabilities as a homesteader. He speaks again, ’What did do before shit hit the fan?'

‘I am a licensed architect so it was easy to design everything around here, the doing was the harder part' you say proud of what you managed to achieve.

'An architect', he repeats in a low, amused voice, 'and you chose to live in the middle of nowhere?'

He pauses. 'What made you come this far out?'

'I wanted peace and a quiet place surrounded by nature. Cities were to crowded for my liking. I never felt at home there. But here' you look around you, 'here is perfect.'

You hear him let out a breath, seemingly agreeing with your statement and your choice of location.

He studies you for a few seconds, then says, 'You don’t have anyone else? Family? Parents?'

'No.' the answer is short and a far away look takes over you. that is a story from another time. 'Where did you come from?' you turn the attention on him rather than giving anymore information about yourself.

He hesitates for a moment as if deciding whether or not he should share anything about himself.

'I'm ex-military.' comes the final answer, spoken in his usual blunt manner.

'That much I figured' you nod towards his uniform. 'Is she your daughter?'

He nods without saying anything further. There's a strange tension coming from his body language. He seems to be on high alert. He clears his throat as if he needs a change of subject. 'You said you are an architect?' you raise an eyebrow at that 'Yes, why?'

'Are you any good?' He presses, not beating around the bush and being direct with his question.

'Um... as good as they come, I guess!?' you tell him not trying to appear humble.

'So, what is your specialty? Residential? Commercial? Industrial?' he asks very specific.

'Residencial, but I do have some knowledge of the rest. Why do you ask? You try to understand were the sudden interest in your carrier choices come from.

'Just curious.' He says casually, but something in his eyes suggests that he's interested in finding out more. 'And that cottage you're living in.' he points at your house. 'You designed it?'

'Yes' you say eying him suspiciously. His questions were awfully precise. But once again he changes the direction of your conversation wanting to know more about your house. He asks you about the house, the structure and the layout, how you keep warm, where do you get wood for the fireplace.

'You're pretty self-sufficient.’ He concludes. ‘How often do you have to go out for supplies?' his question catches you by surprise. Ever since you saw the news about the outbreak you haven’t ventured anywhere close to civilization, afraid that you’d encounter infected and be ripped apart.

'I haven't really left the property in the past year. The further I go is the lake for fishing. Most of what I own comes from the time when things were delivered to your door or post office. I used to buy items in bulk.' you shrug, it made more sense to you that way. ‘There was no reason for me to leave. Plus, there is a lot of work to do around here, animals to feed. Which reminds me of something…’ you say fixing him with a hard stare mirroring his own. He waits for you to continue.

'You'll have to pull your weight around here. Food and accommodation are not for free.' You set clear boundaries. You may be kind enough to let them stay, considering the threats he’d flung your way earlier, but you won’t be taking advantage of.

He sighs almost offended by what you said, ' I don't plan on freeloading.' He assures you. 'Good' you intend to hold him to his words. He grunts in acknowledgement before going on to speak, 'I hunt regularly, and I know my way around a gun. I'm capable of offering protection.' He says in a serious tone, almost like a pledge. His military training is showing.

'There is not much fighting to do around here, but I'll keep in mind.' you say with a chuckle. It'll be fun seeing him do household chores. You wonder if he'll keep the mask on while feeding the chickens or picking apples.

'I do have one last question.' He says, suddenly sounding more unsure of how to phrase it. You nod at him to go one whipping the smirk on your face and

'If our partnership is to work…’ he pauses seriousness taking over him like a heavy veil, ‘you will have to abide to my one rule.' You sit up a little straighter, your attention fully on him.

'My girl comes first. In a survival situation, every decision I make will rely on her safety. No negotiation.'

You nod your head in agreement. 'Got it. I'll try my best not to get in your way.' You promise tone filled with sincerity.

'Good.' That seems to conclude the interrogation. He seems to relax a bit, and his demeanour is less hostile than before. He rises to his feet and turns to walk to where his daughter lies on the sofa. You watch as he drops his gun and knife on the table and sits on the armchair guarding the sleeping girl.

You let them settle in while you busy yourself with chores. you go out to feed the livestock you keep, collect any fresh eggs, and tend to your garden. The sky begins to darken, wind picks up. you can faintly hear thunder cracks in the distance. It's going to rain tonight, you muse to yourself. You quickly finish your work outside making your way inside. Once in your living room you notice the absence of masked stranger. He is nowhere in the house. You put down the basket you filled with fresh vegetables on the kitchen table and approach the sofa. The little girl stirs awake and looks curiously at you.

'How are you feeling, darling?' you ask in a warm tone smiling gently at her. The little girl rubs her eyes, trying to get rid of the sleep in them. She then looks up at you once again with her adorable big eyes. ‘A bit tired’ she says before yawning.

'It's understandable, you went through a lot out there. What happened to you?' you ask pointing at her bandaged arm The little girl looks at you for a moment as if thinking what to tell you. 'I got hurt by a bad guy's dog...It bit me.' She tries to sound brave but you hear the quiver in her voice.

'Oh... that's awful. Would you let me take a look at it?' you say softly siting down on the couch next to her. ‘Yeah…’ she nods. She holds out her arm for you to take a look at.

On her arm, you can see the puncture marks. They don't look like a human bite mark and that makes you sigh in relief. They were telling the truth. But what worries you is the yellowish liquid oozing out of it. That and the fever indicate that the wound got infected. 'How long ago did that dog bite you?'

‘About three days ago...’ She says quietly. ‘...It hurts now more than before.’ her soft, innocent eyes are filled with concern, fear and worry. ‘...I feel hot...’ she added. 'Let's clean it and rebandage it, okay?'

'Okay' she says with a small, relieved smile. You fetch a med-kit and some disinfectant and begin to clean the wound. It's a bit irritated from the infection. She seems to be in good spirits despite the pain.

You try to comfort her by keeping her mind occupied with conversation while treating her wound.

'How old are you?' you ask her as you wipe her arm with some alcohol blowing a little over it to ease the burn. 'Nine!' she answers earnestly with a toothy smile as she looks up at you, still enduring the sting of the disinfectant. 'What's your name?' you ask remembering that you haven’t been properly introduced so far. 'Olivia' she says with a soft, cute smile. 'What's your name?'

You tell her. 'I haven't met anyone else with that name before' she says pensively. 'Well, we don't really meet many people anyway. Just infected.' she says with a sad sigh. 'Yeah, me either.'

You finish treating her wound and re-bandage it. A shiver runs through her little body causing her to tremble. ‘Are you cold?’ you ask, reaching your palm to her forehead. She is indeed a little feverish. ‘...A bit.’ She mumbles with a small shiver.

You stand up making your way toward a small closet where you keep some blankets. You pick a fluffy one and hand it to Olivia. 'Here you go, sweety'. She smiles brightly as she accepts the extra layer and buries herself in it. 'I'll go grab some firewood to get a fire started.' You announce heading for the door. Just as you reach for the door handle, the door opens and there stands the tall dark figure of the man, his hands full of firewood. 'Oh...' you say in surprise as you step aside making way for him to enter. Outside rain is pouring. He puts the wood in the fireplace and starts working on the fire. You close the door and watch in silence as he works. In no time a well-built fire heats the small house casting a warm glow from the fireplace. The shadows flicker on his face, the white mask adding a level of horror to the otherwise cozy scene.

‘Thanks,’ The little girl says softly to him, to which he only grunts in acknowledgement.

You quietly make your way to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. Bellamy lays on the kitchen floor quietly supervising the two strangers in your house through the open door. The dinner you had in mind this morning included fish but you were rudely interrupted, so you'll have to settle on chicken with a side of veggies. You work quietly and efficiently, casting a glance once every few minutes in the living room. You see Olivia tiredly saying something to the masked man and him leaning back, the chair reclined, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching you prepare dinner. Soon, everything is ready, and three plates of steaming food lay neatly on the kitchen table. You walk into the living room to invite your involuntary guests to dinner.

The tall man is sitting on the comfortable armchair, the little girl lays on the sofa next to him, propped up by the pillows. As you enter, they quiet down and stare at you. He slowly stands up, holding out a hand to the girl, but she swats at it and raises by herself with a huff. He says nothing and he follows you two the kitchen. For how big he is he his movements are fluid, calm and quiet. You can barely hear his footfalls.

The little girl sits next to her father and digs into her plate burning herself in the process. 'Take it easy, kid.' he gently admonishes her. It's a weird scene seeing him at the other end of your small table, still in full gear watching the two of you eat in silence. Earlier he was threatening to kill you, now he sits in your kitchen hands rested on his knees watching like a hawk and frozen like a statue. You cast a few glances at him wondering if he'll take the mask of to eat but he remains unmoving. Perhaps later when I’m not around you think to yourself.

You try subtly glancing at the masked man, now that you sit in awkward silence. The little girl eats hungrily, she seems to love the food. Her blue eyes are focused on her plate, but you notice that she also seems to sneak in a few glances at her father while she chews. They look at each other as if communicating solely with their eyes. Perhaps they could, after spending so much time together in situations that require keeping quiet and nonverbal communication. You’ve notice so far that he prefers gestures instead of words. Once she’s finished eating the girl turns to look at you 'Is there any dessert?' her question is followed by a small burp and a quiet laugh. Her father pumps his knee audibly into hers under the table and throws her a pointed look. ‘What?’ she feigns innocence. You chuckle at their antics watching them bicker.

'I have some cherry jam if you're interested.' you offer with a smile.

'A bit, please.' she replies. Olivia’s eyes are sparkling while her father looks as unimpressed as ever, while you prepare a few slices of homemade bread and spread jam on it. She sits closer to him whispering something in his ear. He bands down and you watch as he whispers back.

She seems to be a very attached child, and you wonder if that is a consequence of all the trauma she has gone through. His manners on the other hand seem a bit less harsh, slightly more relaxed, although his dark gaze still lingers on you as if his prepared for you to rush him or something.

After you finish eating you collect yours and Olivia's plates and dump them in the sink to wash them later. You then turn towards Olivia 'How about we get you out of those dirty clothes and give you a warm shower? you ask motioning upstairs were your bedroom and personal bathroom are. She looks at her father with a look of silent plea.

'Go on.' he says quietly with a nod. She gets up, excited to get a warm shower, the prospect of getting cleaned and changing clothes is too much for her to resist. Olivia runs up the stairs followed quickly by you, leaving the man alone to eat.

A few moments after you are out of sight, Simon takes off his balaclava and puts it on the chair where his daughter sat. he grabs the cutlery and just as he’s a bout to start cutting into the chicken he stops, feeling eyes on him. He casts his eyes at the door where your dog watches him curiously head tilted to the side and years pointed up. ‘What?’ he grunts in annoyance, and the dog gets up and leaves the room. With a sigh Simon starts eating, he can’t remember his last proper meal that didn’t involve expired cans of beans.

Once in the bathroom, you turn on the shower and set the necessary water temperature before stepping out to wait for her. You go inside your bedroom searching for some clothes that will fit her better than what she has. Her soiled clothes go straight to the bin. They’ll need a proper wash for sure. You wait by the door for her to finish. You can hear her saying something to you through the cracked door.

'I don't remember the last time we had warm water' she says from behind the shower curtain. 'Were you on the road for a long time?' you inquire curious to know more about them, and now taking your chances with Olivia who is chattier than her father.

'Yeah...We've been on the move and camping for a while now in abandoned houses.' she replies as she turns off the shower and steps out. She is wrapped in the towel, her wet hair sticking to her forehead and with a shy, bashful look on her face to which you can't help but smile at.

'Come' you motion for her to go inside your bedroom 'let's get you dry.' She happily obliges and you both step into the bedroom.

You help her dry her hair and then you give her some privacy for her to change into the new clothes. By the time you are done, she is completely dry and wrapped in a cozy sweater and shorts. She looks really pretty now that she’s clean, her pixie cut framing her round face perfectly.

She smiles at you and then starts looking around the room. Your bed is made, covered in cream linen bedsheets, your bedside table is nicely decorated with some flowers from your garden, and your desk is neatly organized.

A few books and magazines laying at the corner of the desk that catch her attention. She walks closer looking at the covers curiously. You notice her looking at a particular magazine cover, it shows a woman holding some gardening tools and a child playing nearby.

'Do you like gardening?' you ask her.

She shrugs. 'I don't know', she answers sincerely. Right, if they were moving from place to place, they didn't have time for that. Probably didn’t have time for many other things. The realization dawns on you. Growing on the run in a world full of monsters must’ve been rough on her, not really being able to be a child, always on high alert.

'Maybe you can help me tomorrow in the garden if you feel better.' you offer kindly. 'That would be nice.' she replies earnestly, her warm smile lighting up her adorable face, making her look like a normal kid.

'Okay, for now, let's get you settled in the bedroom downstairs.'

'Alright… but can I ask you something?'' she looks up at you scuffling her feet, the wool socks you gave her sliding and pooling at her ankles. 'Sure thing.' You turn towards her and wait for her to voice her question. There's a brief pause in which she mulls over, seemingly struggling to form the right words.

Finally, she speaks, 'Why did you accept us in your house? She takes you by surprise. You pause, looking around, giving yourself time to think before you answer. 'It was the right thing to do. You needed help.' You say conviction in your tone.

She nods a little bit, still unsure. 'But you don't know us...you could have just closed the door on our faces. It happened before. People keep their things for themselves out there.' She arguments.

Your heart falls a little, your hopes in humanity crumbling. You knew people could be selfish at times, but now they really turned borderline savage and hysteric. 'People can be like that when they feel threatened.' you admit.

'But you aren't?' she follows up your statement with a question. You hesitate a bit, her eyes are focused solely on you, their innocence and naïveté are so endearing it somehow breaks your heart.

'I try not to be.' Your answer seems to have raised even more questions. She is curious to know more. 'Why? Why do you try not to be like the others?' she tilts her head as if trying to solve you like one does a riddle. 'I don't know. It just doesn't feel right to me. I think people should be kind or at the very least not violent with one another.' Your philosophical reply is met with more confusion. '..So why did you let us in?' she asks earnestly. She doesn't understand why someone like you would extend a warm generosity to perfect strangers who have nothing to offer when the same kindness is so scarce.

'Well, your father did threaten me with a gun.' you give her a more appropriate answer, something she understands better: violence. She sighs. Her adorable little face drops as she realizes that her father's actions might have put you in danger. 'Oh.' She remembers your earlier encounter, her father's less-than-friendly approach to strangers seems nothing new to her. ‘Right…. He's protective, he has to be.' she promptly excuses his actions, her expression a little troubled but at the same time, she seems to understand. 'But he's not a bad person' she quickly adds.

'I didn't say he was.' you remind her. She nods her head a little, still thinking about it all.

She is very smart, it is evident that she is much more aware of her surroundings than the average kid her age, you wonder what she would grow up to be, and what kind of adult she would turn out to be in such a harsh world. You imagine she will be a spitting image of her father, cold and ruthless.

You gently lead her down the stairs and to the guest bedroom ending your conversation. Once you reach downstairs you notice that her father is missing yet again. 'He's probably outside smoking. He never does it when I'm around though. He says it's bad for the lungs. But I don't understand why he keeps doing it' she confesses. She sounds more like an adult than a child. She has probably matured fast due to the circumstances, but that doesn't change the fact that she is still so young.

She still needs guidance, she still needs help figuring things out. Even as she speaks of his flaws, she is quick to excuse him and defend him, she loves him and looks up to him so much. It's almost like she sees him as two different people, one good and one not-so-good. You wonder if that is just her way of trying to cope with his actions.

'It's a bad habit people tend to have when they are stressed' you tell her. You remember your college years going to bars with colleagues and smoking a few cigarettes from your friends. But you never bought a packet.

'Do you get stressed?' she asks you, seemingly trying to see if you are the same as her father.

You take a few seconds to think it over, but her innocent, naïve gaze is hard to lie to.

'I do.' you confess, '…Sometimes. But I do other things to relieve the stress.'

She looks at you curiously, you can tell that she is looking to you for advice on how to deal with stress or she’s just looking for options for her father. 'What kind of things?' she asks, her voice filled with childlike wonder and curiosity.

'Well, gardening is a good way. Bellamy likes to help.' at the mention of her name, your companion leaves her guarding post by the fireplace and approaches the two of you. Olivia hides a little behind you at the sight of the dog. 'Don't worry, she won't bite you, I promise. She's really friendly with people. Look...' You crouch next to her and stretch your palm towards her nose. Bellamy starts wagging her tail eager to be petted.

Olivia watches you cautiously, but then sees how Bellamy loves to be petted and she can't help herself from being curious. She cautiously puts her soft little hand forward, hesitantly touching Bellamy on the cheek. The dog allows it, and soon Olivia warms up to her and starts petting her.

She smiles at you as she does that, then she speaks. '...Does she like me?' she whispers loudly as if the dog might understand her. 'I think she does' you playfully match her tone.

Olivia smiles even more, petting Bellamy even more enthusiastically. 'What kind is she?' she asks, showing a bit more enthusiasm in her voice. 'She's a Border Collie. She is a dog meant to herd sheep and keep guard from other animals.' '…She must be very smart.' Olivia says as she continues petting her, her voice is full of curiosity and admiration as she says that. 'She is' you say with a tone of love for your sole companion. ‘Dad told me that the dog that bite me was German Hepard. A guard dog.’ She informs you the way children do to prove they are just as knowledgeable as adults. ‘Shepherd. German Shepherd.’ You correct her with a small laugh. ‘That’s what I said.’ She counters with an incredulous look on her face at you for not taking her seriously.

Olivia slowly yawns her eyes hooded with exhaustion. 'Let's get you in bed' You guide her towards the bed pulling the covers and allowing her to get in. Once she settles comfortably you put the back of your hand on her forehead checking for any signs of increased temperature. to your relief, her fever went down a little. It means that the pills still have an effect even after all these years. 'Good night' you whisper to her as her eyes flutter closed. She nods, tired from the day's events, and slowly closes her eyes as the sleep starts to take over her. '..Good night..' she whispers to you with a sleepy voice before she falls asleep.

You quietly sneak out of the room, closing her door softly behind you. You can still hear her soft snoring coming from inside the room, and a little smile forms on your face. You know she feels safe with you, and that warms your heart a little. You then head towards the kitchen, Bellamy in tow, only to discover that there are freshly washed dishes on the drying rack. You hum to yourself in appreciation. He may be a hulking terrifying military man but he has manners. You chuckle at the thought, despite the cold and aloof vibe he gives off, he still manages to surprise you with small gestures like these. It's clear that no matter how rough he seems, he does have a softer side to him.

Bellamy follows you next, and the two of you make your way outside. The rain has stopped, but there is still no sign of the man. He seems to like to disappear like a ghost. you scan the area around your garden, which is now damp with the fresh rain. Further outside, from the fence to the outside world, the darkness envelops everything. The light from your house is not strong enough to penetrate outside your garden. You take a deep breath the air humid and refreshing. The clouds hide the stars, you wish the sky was clear so you could map out the constellations with your finger, a favourite pastime of yours during the summer nights when the air is too stuffy for you to fall asleep.

After a while, the gate opens, and the masked man walks in, rifle slung on his shoulder, strap gripped tightly in his hand. The white skull on his face is the only thing that reflects enough light for you to make it out. A shiver runs down your back at his frightening attire. No wonder other people turned them down. He looks more like a serial killer from a horror movie than a human being. As he comes towards you, you can't help but wonder out loud 'Why the mask?' you watch him as he approaches you.

He doesn't respond to your question. Instead, he looks you up and down, studying you for a moment before he speaks with a firm voice. '..To hide my face.' He states in an obvious manner.

You stare at him dumbfounded the look on your face most likely betraying your confusion at his answer. He walks past you a small chuckle audible enough for you to catch it. He goes inside without another word. He's such a hardass... you think to yourself but you follow after him locking the door behind you. He looks around, most likely looking for his daughter. 'Olivia is asleep in the guestroom.' you point your thumb over your shoulder at the door. He stares at you silently which makes you really uncomfortable. 'You can make yourself comfortable here. My bedroom is upstairs...' you inform him awkwardly.

He stands there, not uttering a word, not even moving an inch, just looking at you, his eyes searching your skin and face, analysing your body and appearance with a prodding, cold, and distant gaze.

After what seems like an eternity, he finally utters a few words in response to you. '..That'll do..' he dismisses you with his usual monotonous and stern voice.

You nod and go up the stairs. once inside the room, you lock the door and sit on your bed. You stay like that for a while trying to comprehend today's events. You're unsure how things will play out between you and the masked man downstairs. You only hope that it won't interfere with the peaceful life you've built for yourself here. After what feels like hours have passed, you rise and start digging in your closet for pyjamas and a towel. You'll take a shower, hoping it will wash away the unease that seems to overtake you.

As you strip away your clothes and step into the shower, the warmth of the water fills your body as it washes away the cold. You let the hot water run over you for a while, allowing yourself to relax and forget the tension still lingering around you. After a few minutes, you step out and dry off by sliding your towel along your wet skin. Feeling refreshed and cleaner, you pull on a comfy set of pyjamas before returning to bed.

Once under the sheets, you close your eyes and try to fall asleep. Unlike Bellamy who snores peacefully on the rug next to your bed, you don't have such luck. You stare at the wooden ceiling above you. The house is dead quiet and you try to focus your hearing in hopes you'll catch something from outside your room. A few minutes pass when you can distinctly hear the faucet of the downstairs bathroom sink. You keep listening trying to imagine what he's doing. He's probably washing up, you think. The house creeks as the wind outside starts to blow. Soon after the rain starts once again, the sound of raindrops hitting your window finally lulls you to sleep.

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pinksugarscrub · 9 months

Text

Heartstrings

Hobie Brown x Black Cat! fem! reader

Recap: Before, you hated the constant lessons. English, math, science. All centered around culture and the history of man. It was unbearable until…it wasn’t. Until you saw him. His voice cracking as he sang and his fingers missing every other chord on his borrowed guitar. That’s when you finally understood what she meant. Art, is freedom.

Part(s) 1, 2, ???

Word count: 1k+ (figured I should give y'all a warning)

London’s Black Cat was infamous. The name was etched into billboards, posters, buildings—you name it. But they never really piqued Hobie’s interest. Sure, they defiled government property like any good rebel would but their pieces weren’t really his style.

Usually softer and centered around nature. It wasn’t until he overheard a conversation between locals (more specifically the florist who lived on Eton Avenue) that he re-evaluated his thought process. Apparently, flowers had a language. A secret code.

Irises were a symbol of hope but Begonias? Begonias a warning and aloe vera a sign of grief. Who knew plants could be so...intense. Right?

The artist was trying to be subtle. Hobie could respect that. Not everyone had the privilege of being bitten by a radioactive spider.

The more messages he decoded--- courtesy of the little blue book titled 'botany' webbed to his side---the more he wanted to find them. The Black Cat. He was going to go crazy if he didn't! But whether he asked as Hobie Brown or Spiderman, no one knew who you were. What you looked like. Your real name.

No one ever witnessed their escapades. The only evidence she or he ever left behind (aside from colorful depictions of life) was money. In the form of actual physical cash or banned books and records. Things only the rich and powerful owned. Knew about.

It almost felt like- no, it was a wild goose chase. But it was the only solid lead he had on something else that had been pestering him for a while.

For months now, mostly during his impromptu shows. He was always finding things. Like guitar strings, picks, and on occasion, food. In the oddest places too. His guitar case, the pockets of his jackets and vests.

He had to find them. He had to know if it was them looking out for him the way he did for the rest of the city.

He just didn’t expect it to be today and for her, to be so… feisty. You truly did live up to the name.

“What do you want with me?” You repeat.

Hobie grins, biting on his cheek to hold back his almost comical giggles. “What makes you think I want to do something bad to you love? I could have if I wanted to y’know? Back turned to me and all.”

His eyes rake your form and you seem to tense even more at his words and before he’s realized it you have him falling for you. Quite literally. You’ve swiped your leg under his but before he can hit the ground you catch him by the fabric of his suit. So much for a Spider-sense, right?

Wrong.

Hobie’s elated once he’s realized one simple thing. You don’t intend to hurt him. After such a public display of strength he has no doubt you could snap him like a twig if you wanted to but, you don’t. (Well, not really considering he can lift a car without breaking so much as a sweat but that’s beside the point-)

“How long have you been watching me?” You hiss.

“You gonna keep asking questions darling? Because if you haven’t noticed-” Hobie motions to your arm with his chin,“-You can’t keep this up for much longer.”

And he’s right. Your arm is shaking because damn if this isn’t the heaviest man you’ve held over the edge of a building. What makes matters worse is that he seems to be enjoying this and you’re not sure how much more social interaction you can take.

You should really carry a gun around or something. Unloaded of course. You’re not an animal.

Without a second thought, you tug him forward and he stumbles but you think it’s mostly for your benefit so your ego isn’t crushed. He is six-foot tall boy? No... his voice is too deep for that.

You sigh, stalking over to your bag and with a quick swipe of your hand it’s over your shoulder. “If you’re just going to waste my time I’m leaving.” With a mock bow of your head, arm outstretched. You begin to turn back. Already grumbling under your breath when an irritating voice interrupts.

“Forgetting something love?”

It takes everything within you not to just jump off the building. Slowly, you look over your shoulder and you pale under your hood.

Hobie meanwhile is entertained by how pissed off he seems to make you every five seconds. He shakes the blue envelope in his hand. Bringing it to his ear, or where it should be. You can't tell with the mask. “So where do you get all em’ riches hm?”

“You must be pretty smart to be robbing coppers.” He laughs as you lunge for the cash. Easily holding it over your head. “Or maybe even the president.” Enunciating the ‘t’ so his lips made a popping sound.

“Give it back!” You cry. Jumping to reach his elbow and tug it down. “Dumb Spider- how does anyone put up with you!"

“Quite well I’d say.”

He is unfazed by this constant movement while you’re left panting. Your breath hitting below his neck as you’re too short to reach his face. Then it happens.

You don’t know whether to toss the poor sod off or melt because he’s holding you so gently you feel like a feather. It occurs to you it’s been a long time since you’ve hugged someone and when was the last time someone looked so deeply into your eyes?

Hobie’s voice is a low whisper when he repeats his earlier phrase ‘cat got your tongue’. His fingers brush against the line of your jaw and you feel your heart lurch in your chest.

Your goggles are tinted but he can make out the faint outline of your eyes. He starts to wonder if you would be terribly upset with him if he just...slipped them off.

“Oi!”

You snap out of your daze and direct your attention downward to see the familiar shade of blue of an officer. A "keeper of the peace".

“Well shi-”

You don’t give either of the two in your company time to think as you strategically drop a can of paint which then explodes into a collision of colors.

Hobie lets out a few choice words as pink paint splatters on his vest.

When Hobie gets home, or to the place he currently calls home, he’s exhausted. Cursing under his breath as he shrugs off his ruined denim vest. The pins clacking against his makeshift table.

“Bloody cat,” he huffs. Striping his mask off like it's toxic and tossing it on top of his growing pile. His lips so wide in a grin his neighbors would think him insane.

He whistles as he passes by the kitchen (if you can even call it that). Fliers for his next gig strewn about the counter. “Ay Reggie, where are you boy?”

A tiny patter of feet is the only indication said beast heard him. As Hobie waits for him to appear he begins sifting through the mess of papers to try and find that coupon for Joe’s pizza. He doesn't support capitalism but Joe doesn't charge him a cent so is it truly fueling the unjust financial system of Oscorp? The coupon is just for the sake of appearances. No one else knows of his contributions to the rebellion.

He feels a nudge to his leg and when he turns he’s greeted with Reginald aka Reggie. “There you are! Where you been hiding hm?” He chuckles as he scratches behind the beagle’s ear.

Reggie slowly blinks before sauntering off. The studded collar around his neck jingling in addition to the silver tag at the center.

“And where do you think you’re going?” He shrugs to no one in particular before following behind the old dog. Pushing off the counter with a curious look. He stops short as Reggie abruptly turns back. Arching his brow at him before he catches sight of the envelope in his mouth. A blue envelope.

“Well I’ll be damned…” Bending down he takes the envelope from Reggie with his jaw dropped. Sifting through the thick wad of cash with his thumb. Exhaling through his nose before looking back down at Reggie. "This is enough to buy us that boat cross' town."

His shock turns into glee as his mind catches up with him. "She knows me," he laughs. "She knows Hobie Brown."

He jumps up excitedly as he throws the cash onto the counter. Lifting Reggie up as he eyes the fliers with a newfound vigor. The set date practically popping out of the pages. "Silly girl doesn't know what she's gotten herself into. I'm going to find her again and when I do-"

Reggie yawns as he watches Hobie cackle like a madman.

#atsv #hobie brown #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #spiderpunk #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv

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sofasoap · 10 months

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Lastochka AU - Seven Seas - 1

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)

Summary: Going against the odds of society's expectation and prejudice, you made a name for yourself as Lady Fortuna of the sea. but one day ....

AU to my Lastochka series

WARNING: Mature Theme. swearing. violence. inaccurate period/historical depiction. or languages. or facts. everything.

A/N : Well, I started another AU. Thanks to @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot's mouth frothing render of Buccaneer!Nikolai. Please go check out her wonderful renders and story :D and oh... this was suppose to be part of the 141 challenge ooops I was tooooo late. sorry @glitterypirateduck! oops.

Main masterlist

Credit : @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot

“Pirate! Starboard!!”

“Captain! They are getting closer!!”

You knew this wasn’t going to be an easy journey. You had a hunch about it the moment you boarded the ship. And usually your hunch never fails you.

“That’s a Schooner. They might look small, but they will catch up to us no matter what we do. We will never outran that ship.” you heard the Captain mumbling, as he looked through his telescope, trying to identify the ship.

Putting down the telescope he sighed. “The only chance of escaping is to face them.”

Treasurer might be a government commissioned ship, but being a merchant ship and designed to carry cargo and goods, it was never equipped with the heavy cannon or artillery like the naval battle ship. A chill runs down your spine. They have no choice but let the pirate board the ship and fight them in close combat.

“Arm yourself! Ready for battle!” The Captain yelled at the crews,before he turned around and escorted you back to your resting quarter. “Lady MacTavish, you will be safer down there than up here. Go.”

You wanted to argue with him but you know better than disobeying a Captain’s command.

This is probably the first time you have met with real danger on the sea after years of sailing.

You started sailing with the merchant ship from the day you became of age.

You have begged and bribed your father for years to be a passenger to sail on one of the merchant ships that sails from Port Inbhir Nis to London, delivering the orders of whisky and woven goods from your parent’s distillery and farm to the clients down south.

“Please Da! I have never been to London before! Besides, Johnny will be there too, you have nothing to worry about.” you begged.

Lord MacTavish sighed. Putting down the document he was reviewing, he leaned in, clasped his hand and frowned. He looks straight into your eyes, tries to reason with you.

“You know how superstitious the crews are about taking women onboard a ship…” he started.

“I can pretend to be a man!” you countered.

“Not that easy you know..”

“I got an idea!” you clap your hand together, as another excuse comes up. “Social season is starting soon in London, So…”

“You can get there by land….”

“Will be too late. You know how long it takes! Plus my bottom will be so sore by the end of the journey…”

“Language, Mini.” your father warned. “You've never been on a ship or boat before..” “River boat Da, I've been on a river boat once.” “Fine. once. But the open sea is a totally different business. The unforgiving waves, the danger…”

“Da. After growing up with Johnny, do you think anything will faze me?”

“... True.”

“Just remember to behave a bit more like a lady….” not waiting for him to finish his words, you surge forward and give him a big hug.

“Oh thank you Da! Thank you!” you pepper kisses on your father’s face, all excited. You knew your father wouldn’t say no to you. You have always been the jewel in their eyes, their precious little gem. You were brought on in a very unconventional way compared to the other noble ladies. Sure, you have learn how to read, write, etiquettes, languages and sewing like other girls, but you also run around like a wild goose with your older brother Johnny, learning how to fight, use swords and roll around in mud, climbing trees, all the un-lady like things you can think of? You’ve done it.

“I hope I am making the right decision… Now just try to convince your Ma…”He mumbled as he patted your back.

He manages to find a merchant ship that is willing to take you onboard, after paying a nice sum of money to the Captain and the crew to take a young lady and a few of the servants onboard with them.

When you reached London at the end of the journey, the Captain was amazed how smooth sailing the trip was.

“I have been going up and down this stretch for the last fifteen years, I have never,ever had a more uneventful but smooth sailing journey than this!”

Second, third, and fourth journey was the same. Rumours started to spread that contrary to the superstition, you were a lucky charm, a sure guarantee for a fast and safe journey.

Suddenly everyone is fighting to take you onboard. To your parents’ surprise. They would have thought you will be giving up on the “sailor’s game” by now but instead you have come home with your brother blabbering how much fun you had and all the invitations you have received from various Captains for more journeys in the future.

They reluctantly let you continue on after they discovered people were willing to pay good money to have you onboard. You were also helping to manage your father’s business by dealing and expanding clientiles in London, also sometimes going across the channel, into the continents.

You slowly made a name for yourself not just being Lady MacTavish, but Lady Fortuna, lady luck, the one who brings good fortune and safety for anyone who travels with you.

Gossips spread within the social circles. Good gossip, bad gossip.

Good gossips of how other ladies are envious of you, how much freedom your parents gave you despite being a lady, being a woman.

Bad gossips of how you must have slept around to gain so many favours and names amongst the merchants and sailors, how you were only just a northern barbarians

But you ignore the rumours. You were just happy you have become an independent woman. Even with reassurance from Johnny he would look after you in the unfortunate event of both of your parents passing, you don’t want to be dependent on anyone. You don’t want to be a burden. What if Johnny’s future spouse hates you and kicks you out of the house?

How many times have you witnessed yourself the stories of young ladies with not a penny under their name, ditched by their siblings after their parents passing, nearly ending up on the street. You were glad she was in the position of wealth and social status to reach out to help resettling those girls, helping them to find a respectable job to bring in some income.

You are proud of what you have managed to achieve. And you are thankful for your family’s support, no matter how reluctant they are at the beginning.

And for years, things have been peaceful… until today.

Well, if your father knows the dire situation that is happening right now, he probably regrets the decision he made way back to them to let you step onto ships.

The sound of crews yelling and running around on the main deck was getting more frantic as the minute went by.

Your poor young maid huddles in the corner of the room, shaking and sobbing. This was the young girl’s first time on a ship, after hearing your reputation, she eagerly volunteered to accompany you on the journey, never expecting to be in such a dire situation.

“Aye, to hell. I cannot just sit here like a damsel in distress…” you came to the conclusion after pacing up and down in the small room while listening to the yelling and screaming up on the deck.

You open your trunk and throw all the clothes onto the bed as you dig right to the bottom.

“Ah here it is.” you dragged the Claymore out from the bottom of the trunk. You never thought this day would have come. Johnny had insisted you pack the sword for each of your travels (to your Ma’s aghast).

“I just wish I never have to use this thing…”

“Neither do I, my dear sister. But, if anything happens, I wouldn’t be there to protect you, but it comforts me that you will be well equipped, and show those enemies what a Scottish lass can do.”

“Here, take this.” You shove the fork and knife that was left on the table from meal time into your crying maid’s hands. “Lock and block the door after I go out, and go hide under the bed or closet. Understand??”

“But my Lady…”

“That’s an order. Follow it.” you gave her no room to argue and marched out the door.

You storm up the staircase, dragging the sword behind you. You pushed open the double door that leads towards the upper deck.

You were greeted with the chaotic sight of yelling, screaming and the metal sound of swords clashing together. No one seems to have noticed you emerging from the door as they were all focused on fighting their enemies. You would be lying if you said you aren’t scared witless. But what else can you do? You are in the middle of the sea, nowhere to escape, instead of hiding in the cabin and crying about your imminent death. You are a MacTavish! Proud Scottish! You will fight until your last breath if you have to.

Qui audet adipiscitur, Audeamus.

The family motto that has been drilled into your brain. Make your ancestors proud. As your grandfather repeats day in and day out when he was still alive.

Quickly scanning through the deck,you were relieved to see everyone is still alive, if not only slightly injured. Maybe your Lady Luck magic is still working, but for how long you wondered. It wouldn’t be long before a casualty appears if you don’t do something.

Following the sound of the familiar voice, you spotted the Captain, towards the quarter deck, currently in a deep battle of what seems to be the Captain or the Commander of a pirate ship.

Quickly mumbling a prayer under your breath, gathering your courage, you hauled the sword up onto your shoulder, silently thanking Johnny’s insistence of dragging you into training with the sword everyday until he ran off to London after purchasing himself an officer position.

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks and automatically parted ways as they spotted you, a noble lady, with a broad sword that is nearly as tall as you, marching towards the front of the ship, full of purpose, like a highlander marching into her last battle. None of them dared to stop you.

��Stop the fighting at this instance!” You bellowed out the order. Your Captain’s eyes widened as spotted you over the shoulder of the enemy, dodged out of the way just in time as the enemy tried to aim at his neck.

The whole ship came into an eerie silence as the fighting came to a halt. Only the sound of crashing waves and seagulls screeching could be heard as everyone turned their attention to you.

You stab the claymore onto the deck floor in front of you, resting your hands on the end of the hilt.

“My Lady… I told you…” you hold up a hand, silencing the Captain. Giving him a look. I’ll handle this.

You just hope the plan you have formulated in your brain will work. Even if it comes at a cost.

The tall man, who you assume is the Commander and Captain of the pirate ship, slowly turned around, while swinging his sword around at the same time, taking aim at your face.

Don’t back down Mini, Don’t back down. You keep reminding yourself as you shuffle your feet wider, standing firm.

For a second you could see a flash of surprise from his body language. “A noble woman, a Scottish one too.well, that is something new.” The man smirked, while scanning you up and down. But not in a leering way. You have been enough men to distinguish the difference between someone who is looking at you like a common whore and someone who is trying to suss you out.

You took a quick glance at him yourself, trying to guess his origin. Eastern European? You deduced from his slight accent. Possibly well educated, for commanding fluent English. Tall, well built with strong arm muscle, slightly dark skinned as all the sailors have from long voyages under the sun, black sleek hair with a slightly rugged beard.

Quite a handsome man, you have to admit.

“Where are my manners?” he took off his traveller's hat, taking an exaggerated bow, all the while still keeping his eyes on you. “ Commander Nikolai, Captain of Chimera, Privateer, at your service.”

“Privateer..” you mumbled. “sleekit basturts.” Trying to make himself sound more grand than a pirate is he?

“What was that?” He smiled, but you know the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Nothing.” you rolled your eyes.

You returned the greeting, announcing your name and clan name. “... of Clan MacTavish.” you said proudly. You could see a flash of confusion followed by recognition in his eyes. Has he heard of your family before? But where could he have heard it from?

“I have a proposition for you.” you tilt your head, ignoring that question you have in your head, and putting your plan into motion.

He cockily raised an eyebrow as he lowered his sword, suddenly taking interest in what deals you have to offer.

“Take me instead. And whatever cargo you want. All I ask is for you to let my crew go, with enough food and water for them to sail to the nearest port.”

“My lady!!!” Your Captain and any crews that were close enough to you gasped, shocked by the idea and protesting. You turned your head to look at him for a few seconds, giving a stern look. Please trust me on this. You pleaded with your eyes.

“Keeping a woman onboard? Bah! That will certainly bring bad luck! I mean look at what happened.. “ one of the pirates with .. what seems to be a sack or cloth over his head, waved his hand and laughed. Your crew booed and jeered at the idiot who clearly hadn't heard of your reputation and the luck you have brought for them.

You ignored his jeering and took a step closer to the Pirate’s Captain, “Give me one month, and I can prove to you, I can bring you more money and luck you wish for. If not, feel free to go ahead and ask my parents for a ransom.” you tilt your head up confidently. Or try to act confidently. You were actually panicking and formulating alternative plans if he doesn’t accept the offer. Maybe you should have just swung your sword and chopped his head off just now when you had the chance.

But some weird part of your heart told you not to do it. That intuition you always trust.

This man might have some use to you later on. You decided.

“So, what do you think?” you pushed him again.

Nikolai stared at you with a serious expression on his face, calculating all the odds.

“Alright.”

“You.. you agree?” you replied, with surprise in your voice.

“Why are you so surprised?” he laughed at your shocking expression.

You made an unlady-like face, “Because you are my enemy? The one who attacked us? A pirate?”

“You never have to be scared of me, Lady MacTavish, I might be a Privateer…”

“Pirate.” You reiterate it again. “You just ransack a merchant ship that is technically owned by The crown, so you are not a privateer.”

“Fine, Pirate. I might be a pirate, but I do have a set of morals and standards I follow.”

“Is that so? Maybe you should be weary of me instead, Captain.” you smirked. “You never know if I might just poke your eyes out during your sleep.”

“You are not brave enough to do that.” he taunted.

“Watch me.” you smiled, taking a step forward and jabbing his chest with your finger, deliberately digging your nail into his flesh. “What MacTavish promises, MacTavish will do.”

Xxxxx

Johnny MacTavish waited at the port with excitement. He hasn’t seen his sister for a few months, and was quite eager to see her again.

But what shocked him and his friends and fellow soldiers when they saw the Treasurer finally docked at the port days behind schedule, with no cargo to unload, only with a very dejected and injured crew walking off the ship.

Without you.

Johnny rushed towards the Captain of Treasurer, who looked at him with an apologetic expression as he pushed a letter and ring into Johnny’s hand.

“Please give this to Johnny, along with the letter.” You pushed the gold ring with the family signet along with a hastily written letter into the Captain’s hand. “You and the crew should be alright until you reach the port. The luck should follow with my ring. Not a worry there.”

“My lady…”

“Go. I will be alright. I’ll make sure of that. Oh, please make sure my poor maid is well compensated. I wouldn’t be surprised if the poor girl decided to run away from the job the moment she arrived at the port.”

Johnny gripped onto the letter with a shaky hand. Pirates!! Pirates have taken his precious sister!!!

“What is going on here? Where is your sister Johnny?” A gruff voice behind Johnny made him

“Captain Price..”Johnny took a deep breath and turned towards his own Captain,with the rest of his crewmates following behind him. Johnny took a deep breath in, as calm as he could and slowly explain the situation to him, along with Captain of Treasurer.

“... Did you say Nikolai?” Captain Price frowned when he heard the name mentioned.

“Of Chimera. Who claims he was a privateer for the Crown.” Captain of the Treasurer added.

“ … Shit.” Captain Price lowered his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “That muppet…” he mumbled.

Johnny’s eyes flashed with surprise, but before he could ask the question, Kyle Garrick, the young soldier who became fast friends with Johnny since the day he joined, perked up, “Captain.. You know this Privateer.. Or the Pirate that kidnapped Mini?” he asked.

“Worked with him a few times actually. Under the command of the Crown. He is an extremely capable sailor and soldier. People often underestimate how destructive he could be. I am surprised Mini managed to strike a deal with him to let the crew leave with just losing the cargo. ” Price commented.

“Also with her.” Johnny growled. Glaring at the Treasurer’s Captain as he speaks.

“Not his fault Johnny. She made a valiant effort to try to reduce the casualty and losses to minimum. You should have seen her on the deck. Swinging the Claymore around like a true Scottish woman.” one of the crew walked past, trying to defend their Captain.

Johnny let out a faint smile as he heard the crew describe how you challenged the pirate, the bravery, that's the stubborn Mini he knows.

Johnny shook his head. No, this is not the time to admire his sister’s bravery. Her life and also her… her virtue is in danger here! He looked pleadingly to his Captain, hoping he would come up with a plan or help him to rescue his sister, with or without Crown’s permission.

“I want to say you should be worrying for your sister but..apart from that muppet shouldn’t have attacked a Crown owned ship.. It’s Nikolai that might be in more danger here.”

“.. HUH.” Everyone looked at Captain Price with confusion.

“ I am actually more worried for Nikolai…he might have met his match.” Price mumbled cryptically.

“... I .. I don’t understand, Captain?” Johnny asked, perplexed by his Captain’s words.

“Trust me on this one, Mini should return without harm.” Price patted Johnny’s shoulder. “But we still need to go chase after them.. Stupid idiots need to be reined in before this gets into further trouble with the whole British Isle.”

Oh Mini, what mess have you got yourself into? Johnny wondered. All he knows Ma and Da and their ancestors will be half proud of what you have done but also twist his neck off if he doesn’t get you back to safety fast enough.

prompt used for 141 challenge:

Alternate Universe/AU

Enemies to Lovers

Dare/Bet

You never have to be scared of me

Tag list:

@homicidal-slvt @nrdmssgs @siilvan @roosterr @preciouslittlecreature @gamergirlbones @whydoilikewhump @alypink @ashwasherelol @okayyadriana @liyanahelena @miyabilicious @caramlizedtomatoes @celshideout @merkitty49 @abbeyrjm-blog @shyravenns @okamimarta @gazs-blue-hat

#cod nikolai #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai cod x f!reader #taskforce 141 #nikolai reboot call of duty #call of duty Nikolai #call of duty #nikolai cod x female reader #cod x reader #cod x you #mini mactavish #mini mactavish universe #sofasoap writes #crack fic #dont take it so seriously

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magic-belodie · 5 months

Text

I have played episode 1 of MCL New Gen. I got uncle Archibald, the nice desk and Amanda's illustration. Here is a summary of the episode.

You start this episode in your room. It is your first day at your new job. You just woke up before your alarm clock. You are a bit nervous about your first day. It is almost time for breakfast. You go downstairs to your mother and sister.

Your mother and sister are at the breakfast table. Your sister doesn't want to go to her dad because she has plans with her friends. Her dad lives too far away to be able to see her friends. She wants to stay here and that you look out for her. But that is not your responsibilities according to your mother. Your mother asks you what you want to drink. You choose a cup of tea. Your mother is going to London. You will have the house to your self in the meantime. Your mother is saving your life. You won't impose for long. Your mother is happy that she can help you. You may stay as long as you need. Your mother severs you some breakfast, you have to start this day good. What are actually your expectations for this job. You want to succeed in your job. Your sister thinks that is a good idea. And you should be able to since your mother pulled some strings. But she didn't, she only gave you the phone number of Devon after he told her that he was looking for someone. You were quickly hired after a 10-minute phone call. Your mother thinks it will work out. Then your sister warns you not to sleep with your boss, especially to not do it when he is married. Your mother is saying that you didn't know that he was married. He hides everything from you. The hole office knew about it and nobody warned you. When you found out, you left town. Your mother start to think about what would have happened if you didn't find out. You told her not to worry about it. Your first focus lies now on the new job. But you are still in your comfortable outfit. You head back up to put on some work clothes. There is only one outfit to choose. You go back downstairs, your pet goose, Taki wishes you good luck. You give your mother and sister a hug, it is time to go to work.

You go outside your house to the bus stop. There you meet your uncle Archibald (he is the fairy in this story). You ask him what he is donging here. He asks you if you remember Agatha. Agatha has asked your uncle to come here. And now, as your mother lives here, your uncle saw that as a sign. He didn't know you would be here two. You are for now living with your mother. You ask your uncle to keep an eye open for a good apartment. In the meantime, he has something for you. You get a worky-worky costume for your pet. You thank him and you go on the bus.

The bus takes you to the center of town. Then someone runs into you. He can't understand how he didn't notice you. It is the same for you when you are running. You get lost in your thought and forget everything around you. The guy has to leave. The same goes for you. You have to go to work. You walk towards the Devenementiel building and ring the bell. But no one opens the door. You ring the bell again, still no one answers. You ring the bell for the third time. Then someone stands behind you. He knows your name. You are about to start today. It is Thomas, he is taking care of the administrative details for your position. He is not happy that he has to be here so early. You are also not a morning person. But it won't take long.

Thomas and you walk inside. He guides you to the most neutral desk. That is where Thomas sits. He pulls up a chair for you. He is the IT and EvDev Technologies manager. Thomas does all the IT stuff. It is almost like he doesn't like paperwork. And indeed he doesn't like it. But all the stuff for you is almost already finished. He found everything online, even a photo for your tag. But the photo is funny, you will get used to it. Thomas is curious what is funny. It is not a standard work photo, it is a bit quirky. But it is a photo of you, and you are looking at the camera, and you are beautiful. You ask if he really thinks so. It was just an observation. But Thomas thinks you have a lot of money with what he found out about you. You have made a few trips and your mother has one of the best architect companies. But it is your mother who is rich, not you. Thomas has seen some of her work. He likes it. You actually now live with your mother. Then you won't be competing with Amanda. She likes her title of being the rich girl here. But Devon doesn't mind money. If you work good, you will be okay at Devenementiel. The others will arrive soon. You ask if Thomas will show you around. He signs. You hope he introduces you to everyone. You start with the break area. There you see Elenda and Brune. Thomas thinks you will get along with them. Then show you the canteen and takes you to Devon's office. Devon is the boss, he hired you. Thomas leaves the room. Devon seems a lot warmer than he sounds on the phone. Devon will introduce you to everyone at 10 o'clock. Then the phone goes, Devon change back into a serious person.

You leave the room and walk into Amanda. You shake her hand, smiling. Amanda is in charge of accountant and management. She also takes care of art and luxury events. You know a bit about that, maybe you will work together. Devon will decide abut that. Then Roy walks toward you two. He recognizes you from this morning, he was running into you. Roy is happy Devon found a replacement. Hopefully you won't pull the same trick as the other girl did. She is working now for Goldreamz, the competition of Devenementiel. But let's get to work. Amanda and Roy both go to their own desk. You walk towards yours, but there is no chair. Roy let you choose a chair. You choose a cute, comfy desk. It is almost the same as Amanda. You walk back towards the break room. There you see Brune and Elenda again. They have a lot of questions for you. You ask if they could write them down. Brune likes that reaction. Elenda and Brune both think they will like you and get along. They ask where you worked before. You tell them you worked at EMPC. They know the company, it is a very big one. Is that the reason you left. Yes, it was horrible over there. All the people were not really nice. The mood is often worse at big companies. They have to get back to work. You walk towards the meeting room. There is Amanda on her own. She asks if she could help you. You say maybe. You are still trying to find your way. Amanda just came here early to find a minute of peace before the meeting. You suggest leaving, but Amanda is okay. She tells you not to take it too personally with what Roy said earlier about the girl before you. Amanda is curious what your story is. Thomas told her you were rich. Thomas told you the same about Amanda. Amanda doesn't hide it. She comes from a very private family. You don't like to put your life on display. You wanted to be treated the same, even if your mother is rich. You don't have to worry about that here, nobody cares here. It is almost time for the meeting. Amanda tries to order her paperwork, but it falls on the ground. You help her pick up the papers. You get the illustration and a special scene with Amanda. Amanda will blush after you touch hands to pick up the same paper. She doesn't know what got into her. You tell her that this can happen to everyone. To let some papers fall. Normally this doesn't happen to Amanda, it is more due to what is going on. Devon is a bit stressed and that makes Amanda also stressed. You are also stressed because it is your first day. You give all the papers back to Amanda. Then everyone walks into the room. Devon will give a speech to introduce you. He tells everyone to accept you for who you are. To not see you as a replacement, but as a new member of the team. And hopefully this will take the company to a good new path. Everyone applause, and you think you will feel at home here. The episode ends.

#mcl #my candy love #mcl new gen #amanda #uncle archibald #summaries #summary

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assortedseaglass · 2 years

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Come Back To Me

Billy Washington x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Trigger Point (TV) Spoilers, Language

18+. This series will eventually contain violence, specifically related to terrorism; it will be depictions of what happens in the TV series, so those who have seen it will know what to expect. This series will also contain smut.

Author’s Note: Recently rewatched Trigger Point with my family, and I know I’m not the only one here with Billy Washington thirst. First chapter is just setting the scene, in a chapter or two the plot will link up the TV series.

Word Count: 2K

“Mean machine’s seen better days.” Ida slumped into the passenger seat of her best friend’s car, kicking aside an empty crisp packet to make way for her bag. Billy simply hummed in acknowledgment, reaching to turn the radio dial down and turn the ignition.

London, late June. The typically gentle English summer was transforming into a more formidable beast; on the radio a news reader announced that by mid-week the temperature would reach into the 30os. All the windows of Billy’s battered Vauxhall were down, his sandy hair already plastered to his forehead with sweat. Heat bounded off the high rises and bore down onto the street. Curtains flapped through open windows, people trudged wearily along the scorching pavement and the car rumbled towards a red light.

“How’d it go then?” Billy rasped, eyes focused on the traffic. “Fucking tosser,” he added in an undertone as a driver cut across the lane.

“Yeah, ok,” replied Ida. “First years are keen to learn, but they won’t say boo to a goose.”

“To be fair, I’d be terrified of you too,” Billy said with a smirk. “Wouldn’t cross you in a month of Sundays.”

Ida tutted at him but smiled nonetheless. “What’s the plan then, Wash?”

“Park and a pint? Got dinner at Becky’s parents’ tonight so I’ll drop you home around 6?”

“You and Becky back on then?”

Billy winked in response, and Ida tutted again.

“Ah, tune!” Billy ignored Ida’s chiding and turned up the radio.

Cranstead Fields at mid-afternoon was full of the typical fare. Young men playing football, dog walkers and a few of what Ida’s grandma called “shifty types”: druggies lurking under the shade of the trees. Billy and Ida sat with their backs against a tree trunk, watching the men kick around the football. Occasionally, it was kicked their way and Billy made a show of kicking it back.

“Go join them if you want, I don’t mind.” Ida’s bag was full of reading she had fallen behind on.

“Nah, you’re alright. Don’t wanna show them up.” He plonked himself back on the grass and lay next to her.

They had been coming to Cranstead Fields since they were kids. When Ida’s grandma grew tired, she offloaded her onto the Washington’s next door. Not that they minded, Billy had too much energy and Ida seemed to anchor him back on earth. Each Saturday, she watched from the side lines with Val or Jeff while Billy was at football club. If they were lucky, they’d get ice creams on the way home. Back at the house they’d bounce on the trampoline, waving to Ida’s grandma over the fence as she sat with a cup of tea and the cat in the sun. Inevitably, when Billy’s rough and tumble got too much for little Ida, she’d wander indoors and hover in Lana’s doorway. Billy’s older sister by ten years, Ida would watch as Lana put on make-up, or listen to whatever she had in her CD player.

Since the day she moved next door with her Grandma, Ida and Billy were inseparable and Cranstead was their playground. It was where their guardians sent them for a run around in a last-ditch attempt to rid them of energy before dinner. It was where Ida followed Billy as he screamed and shouted about Lana being their dad’s favourite after a particularly explosive argument. Where they sat on the swings, downing tinnies as Ida cried about a boy that Billy, quite frankly, didn’t think was worth it. Today, Cranstead served as common ground, somewhere to catch up as adulthood pulled them in different directions. Ida, a PhD student, teaching and researching to make her way. Billy, well, who knows?

Ida’s eyes were distracted from the football by the sound of tearing. Billy was pulling up clumps of grass. She reached out and put her hand on top of his. “Stop that.” He threw the last clump over her, which she wiped from her hair before asking what was wrong.

“This dinner thing tonight. Becky’s parents don’t hide the fact they hate me-“

“That’s not true!”

“Don’t interrupt. They’ve never liked me, Ida. And let’s be honest, who’d want their daughter with someone on the dole?” Billy sat up and put his elbows on his knees, eyeing the flats on the horizon.

Ida sat up and patted his back a moment. “Everyone’s struggling to get a job these days, something’ll come up. And if they say anything about it tonight, send em my way.” She nudged his shoulder, he huffed a non-committal laugh and they both looked at the horizon.

“Why don’t you talk to Becky about it?” Ida said. “Surely she can have a word with her parents? Mustn’t be nice for her to have them slag off her boyfriend!” The ball flew back towards them, and Billy stood to kick it back. He didn’t sit down again.

“Think she agrees with them to be honest.” He rubbed the back of his neck and Ida tutted. When Billy smirked down at her, she felt her cheeks burn.

“What?”

“I love that sound,” he said.

THWUMP

A wayward kick sent the football soaring into the back of Billy’s head.

“Watch it!” Ida shouted at the men, standing up. Billy grabbed the football from the ground, and instead of kicking it back, ran towards the car, laughing wildly.

“Wash! Billy Washington! Christ!” Ida grabbed her bag, heavy and full to bursting with books, and sprinted after him. The sound of the men shouting at them was muffled as her breath roared in her ears. Ahead of her, Billy dropped the ball, got in the car and started the engine. Ida flung herself into the passenger seat once more and they sped out of the car park and towards home.

Billy kept the engine running when they arrived outside Ida’s flat above the florist. The lights were already on. Sofia was home then. “Come in for a cuppa?”

“Nah, best be off to beat the traffic.” Billy leant his arm on the open car window and looked at her. Bright, deep and blue, his eyes gave the impression of one trying to hide that they had been crying. Above them were eyebrows set in one of two states; a frown or perplexment. A man with his heart on his sleeve. A flush of red always adorned his nose and the high points of his cheeks, even when he wasn’t embarrassed. When he was, he’d look down and freeze.

They had always been opposites. Where Billy was tall and lithe, Ida was short and soft. He sun-smattered and rosy, she pale and freckled. Ida was uptight, Billy was relaxed. She enjoyed being alone, he craved other people. Her smiles were broad and her laughter small, his were the other way around. Where Ida’s hair was dark and curly, his was like flaxen straw and in desperate need of cutting. A few tendrils were sticking to the nape of his neck, and Ida was just close enough to reach out and curl one around her finger…

“Ida?” Billy was grinning lopsidedly at her, the early evening light catching in his messy hair and bestowing him a halo. Ida laughed at that observation. Billy raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Well, good luck,” she said awkwardly, fumbling with her bag and keys. Recovering herself she added, “And if they say anything, tell em to do one. Text me later, yeah?” Billy saluted in response and without another word, pulled away.

Ida waited until he’d turned the corner, waving as he did, before turning the key and dragging her sun-weary body up the stairs of the flat. She was right, Sofia was home - muffled giggles could be heard from her room.

A few minutes later, Sofia appeared in the doorway of the kitchen as Ida rooted around the fridge. “You been with Billy?”

“Yeah,”

“He got a job yet?”

“Nah.” Ida retrieved a squash from the back of the fridge and waved it at her friend. “Gonna make dinner, you want some?” Sofia nodded. “Does Faisal want feeding too?” Ida continued.

Sofia blushed. “How do you know!?”

“It’s that post-coital glow,” Ida winked and Sofia laughed.

“You could have it too, if only you invited a fella round once in a while.”

“Hush, you, do you want feeding?” Ida waggled her finger. Sofia gave her a knowing look and left to fetch Faisal from the bedroom. What Sofia didn’t know was that Ida couldn’t invite any old “fella” round. Not when one was already stuck in her head.

Billy wanted a beer. Why did he drive instead of getting the train? Becky’s parents had opened a bottle of Merlot to lubricate that evening’s interrogation, and he was feeling horrifically sober. When they asked him for the hundredth time whether he regretted not going to university, he looked to Becky but she avoided his eye and became very interested in her empty plate.

“I didn’t get the grades.” He said. Don’t lie to make them feel better. Ida’s voice echoed around his head. For a moment, no said a word.

“Your friend Ida is doing well, isn’t she.” Mrs Walters said, though it was a statement more than a question. “Funny that, really. How different two children with almost identical upbringings can be?” Did they really think him so stupid that he couldn’t pick up that thinly veiled insult? At least they’d presented him with a change of subject.

“Yeah, I picked her up from the uni today actually. She’s been teaching some of the first years.” Both of Becky’s parents looked to her instead of Billy, gauging her reaction. She looked at her father pointedly and continued to ignore Billy.

“Teaching undergraduates is a lot easier than teaching primary school though.” Becky’s dad chimed in. “Becky’s got the responsibility of early years progression on her shoulders. Not to mention all those bloody colds she gets from the little rascals!”

What could he say? Billy downed his water and putting on his bravest smile said, “I’d better be off. Up early tomorrow.”

“For what?”

Billy didn’t reply, only kissed Mrs Walters on the cheek, shook Mr Walters’ hand and followed Becky to the door. Her blonde hair was tied tightly in a ponytail, her arms folded over her crisply ironed blouse.

“Coming back to the flat?” Billy asked, snaking an arm around her waist and kissing her deeply.

“Not tonight,” she said between kisses. “Going to stay at mum and dad’s.”

Billy nuzzled and nibbled at her neck. “What’s the point of paying the rent if you’re always here? Come on, come back tonight,”

“Billy.” She put her arms on his chest and lightly pushed him away.

“Ok. Ok.” He said it more to himself than anyone else. He span around before he left, and kissed her quickly on the cheek. She giggled, then shut the door on him.

His phone was out in a flash. Without thinking, the same way your feet carry you home before you have even realised it, he sent a text to the last person in his messages.

Middle class wankers.

Seconds later, his phone pinged.

Went well then. Meet at the Swan tomorrow? 3ish? x

Starting the engine of his battered car, Billy Washington smiled for what felt like the first time in hours.

#ewan mitchell #billy washington #ewan mitchell x reader #aemond x reader #trigger point #trigger point series

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idreamofdraco · 2 months

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Day five of the fic fest has THREE reveals!

CLICK HERE to read INTERRUPTIONS AT THE BURROW by Anonymous (for now)!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley Characters: Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ron Weasley, Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Scorpius Malfoy, Percy Weasley Additional Tags: POV Draco Malfoy, Good Draco Malfoy, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Canon Compliant, Good Malfoy Family (Harry Potter), Fred Weasley Lives, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Ginny Weasley-centric, Meddling Weasley Family (Harry Potter), Weasley Family Dinners (Harry Potter), Christmas at the Burrow (Harry Potter), Christmas Smut, Christmas Presents, Draco “My Wife” Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Possessive Sex, Multiple Sex Positions, Body Worship, Draco Malfoy Has a Large Cock, Size Difference, Size Kink, Penis Size, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Standing Sex, Overstimulation, Forced Orgasm, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Nipple Licking, Pregnancy Kink, Breeding, Lactation Kink, Lactation, Creampie, Blue Balls, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Drunken Confessions, Possessive Draco Malfoy, Possessive Behavior, Sassy Draco Malfoy, Post-Hogwarts, Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Ginny Weasley, Rough Sex, Supportive Molly Weasley, Supportive Narcissa Black Malfoy, Seer Narcissa Black Malfoy, Baby Scorpius Malfoy, Traditions, Betaed, Shameless Smut, One Shot Summary: Draco and Ginny are spending their first Christmas as a wedded couple with her family at the Burrow. He is feeling desperate for some alone time with his wife without all the interruptions.

CLICK HERE to read PHOENIX DYED IN GOLD by Anonymous (for now)!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley Characters: Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom Additional Tags: matchmaker, soul mark, Soul Bond, Canon Divergence - Post-Hogwarts Summary: Draco and Ginny run into each other unexpectedly at a street festival in muggle London. Little did they know that the moment they stepped into Madam Astraleye’s Psychic Readings tent, the fate of their futures would come crashing down on them.

CLICK HERE to read FOUND by Anonymous (for now)!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley Characters: Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Ginny Weasley Additional Tags: Soulmate enforcement goose, but its a peacock, and not strictly soulmates Summary: Ginny Weasley was just doing her job. Too bad she didn't know a little more about the obscure traditions of some Pureblood families.

#drinny #draco and ginny #draco x ginny #dmgw #dg fics #dgff 2024 #dg fic fest 2024

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fshoulders · 20 days

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Just saw someone on here say the Baz Luhrmann Romeo & Juliet is “considered the most faithful movie version of Romeo and Juliet” and had to stop myself from chasing them down the internet like the meme goose going “BY WHO?! BY WHO!?????” Don’t start internet beef over this, self! They didn’t say THEY liked it best! They might be an innocent bystander! Also you are weirdly aggressive about Shakespeare!

Okay, deep breath, short post. Short post! We can do this!

Romeo and Juliet has an oddly small cinematic footprint, compared to its cultural impact. That’s probably why Luhrmann’s version can still hold any primacy. (Gods, are there English teachers showing this in class? Because they don’t have to fast-forward through the Zefferelli nudity? What a thought. Stay on target.) I can only theorize that other Shakespeare plays get more adaptations because they’re centered on a huge male role, so they can be a Serious Showpiece for a single male actor. R&J doesn’t operate that way.

And in my experience (having seen four or five live productions, off the top of my head) it’s a play that really lives in the theater. Stupid as it sounds, every time I see Romeo and Juliet live, some part of me feels like this time, it might end happy. The letter might not go astray: the messenger won’t get caught in a quarantine, Romeo will know Juliet isn’t dead, and everything will turn out fine. It’s so often noted that the play isn’t structured as a tragedy, but as a New Comedy (like Midsummer Night’s Dream, et c. — a story about young people defying their parents for love) that goes wrong: somehow this works on me, in person, such that I really think maybe we’ll pull it off! The kids will be all right, the parents will be chastened, and all will end well. It breaks my heart, every time, when it doesn’t.

I have small quibbles with the Luhrmann R&J, but I won’t enumerate them here. I simply want to point out that Luhrmann makes the most appalling directorial choice he possibly could. And he’s not the only one! This choice was in vogue during the 19th century in England (which is also when Bowdler took the naughty bits out of Shakespeare, so…yeah. Not very concerned with being faithful to the text.) Luhrmann, and the rest of the 19th century text-criminals, have Juliet wake up while Romeo is still dying.

I suppose some of you are now going, “why is that such a terrible thing? It allows for more acting!” Well, yeah, that’s why the hams of the London stage liked to do it in Romantic and Victorian times. Everything for more melodrama!

But it’s a sin against the text, and I’ll tell you why. That breathless stupid hope I talked about above, that the entire play’s structure induces? The hope that everything will turn out right? It builds up in you like a flood, and everything goes wrong again, and the entire weight of your hope is penned up in your heart, and they came so close! It was so close to being all right, but Romeo kills himself, and nothing will be all right.

And Juliet wakes up, still a citizen of the Country of Hope where this trick is so clever and Romeo’s going to save her, and she finds him there. And nothing makes sense to her. He was supposed to be here, but he was supposed to be alive. It’s a cruel inversion of her hopes, it’s her love made Death at last, it’s her whole world collapsing. We know how close it came to being all right, but she doesn’t know. She despairs. She sees he poisoned himself. And then she kisses him. And she says,

“Thy lips are warm.”

Now she knows as clearly as we do how nearly they were together, how close they came to a happy ending. Total understanding crashes over her, and crashes out of us. It’s the perfectly weighted moment of catharsis for the entire play. No lie: just typing her words above, I started crying with no warning. It’s the sharpened point of the play in Juliet’s heart, and ours. Those four words are the most devastating, understated thing. They are the cold, uncaring touch of Death.

And if she saw him die, they don’t work. They make no sense. She sounds like a fool saying them. And the whole weight of the play lands wrong, because some director thought he knew better than William Shakespeare how to wring the salt tears from human hearts.

#Shakespeare nerd #favorite play #Romeo and Juliet #performance history #fuck bowdler #fuck the Victorians #failed happy ending #fuck baz luhrmann #responding over here #theater #william shakespeare #Shakespeare #i have too many opinions #i have studied this intensely #close reading #catharsis #drama #in my feels

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avastrasposts · 3 months

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The British Connection - ch. 13**

Summary: Grace Mallory makes a reluctant Billy Butcher and The Boys team up with an MI6 operative sent over from London to track down a dangerous supe killing people on both sides of the pond. Billy is being his usual arsehole self but maybe opposites attract?

It's 14 chapters and complete and 'll be posting a new chapter every day

Warnings: canon typical violence, smut, fluff, Butcher being his usual grumpy and unreasonable self, nasty supes, guns etc.

Eve felt Billy’s presence before she opened her eyes. His arm was a heavy weight across her waist and his body heat was enough to warm the whole bed. She pried her eyes and squinted at the window, the little light that filtered down between the buildings was bright sharp sunshine and she guessed they'd been asleep a few hours. Her head still felt heavy from lack of sleep the night before and she closed her eyes, listening to Billy’s slow even breaths next to her. She couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about sleeping with him, even though it probably complicated things. He was like a force of nature, the way he made her feel when he touched her, it had been impossible to resist. Plus, he was one of less than a handful of people who knew who she really was in her professional life, it made things easier to not have to hide that.

She carefully reached for her phone on the bedside table and tapped through the messages that had come in. No emergencies and no new information, it seemed McKay hadn’t returned to his hotel room yet.

Behind her Billy stirred, roused by her movements, and she felt his arm tighten his grip around her waist, pulling her towards him as she put her phone down. His nose found the back of her neck and he drew a deep breath as his hand slid up and cupped one of her breasts.

“Morning, luv,” he grumbled into her hair.

“More like afternoon, love,” she replied, relishing in the warmth of his hand across chest.

He let his calloused fingers circle her nipple gently, his thumb caressing the butter soft skin, raising goose bumps. She felt her body respond to his touch and she stretched out, her back pushing up against his stomach and his cock twitching as her backside brushed over him. A long yawn escaped her and Billy huffed behind her, pulling her closer again, his hips pushing against hers.

“Still sleepy, darlin´? Or ready for round two?” he chuckled. His hand took a better hold of her breast and gave it a firm squeeze.

“You’ve got another round in you old man?” she teased and he pinched her nipple, making her gasp.

“Who you calling old, Edwards? You’re only two years younger than me, I saw your file, remember?” he growled into her ear before biting down on her earlobe.

“M-makes all the difference,” she moaned as his mouth moved down to her neck, finding the same spot he found earlier that morning.

“Two more years experience on the job, luv,” he chuckled, his hand leaving her breast and sliding down her soft stomach, tickling at the apex of her thighs before coaxing her legs to open up for his fingers. She could feel the heat of her arousal strumming under her skin as he gently slipped between her folds and found her silky wet already.

“Darlin’” he grumbled softly against her neck, “you should’ve woken me up sooner.”

“Old men need their sleep,” she smiled and he removed his hand to swat her behind with a huff as she protested the loss of his fingers.

“Be nice or you can go back to playing with your toy.” He sunk two fingers into her again and she gasped loudly as he slipped them deep inside without warning, curling them back and hitting something exquisite.

“Promise,” she stuttered as his fingers moved inside her, “just keep doing that.”

She pushed her hips against his fingers as his thumb found her clit and started circling it with slow precision, drawing sharp moans from her as his lips moved over her neck. Her hand shot up and cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer as she turned for a sloppy kiss, her fingers tugging on his hair.

Billy’s heavy cock was pressing up against the small of her back and she pushed back against him as he chased the friction her movements gave him, precum starting to smear across her skin.

“Need another condom,” he muttered and she protested weakly as he removed his fingers. The bed dipped as he came back from the bathroom, the wrapper tossed on the floor.

“Lift your leg, put it over mine,” Billy mumbled, sliding his fingers back between her legs, her cunt closing tight around them as she moaned. Obediently she did as he said and he shifted down her body, lining his aching cock up against her soaking wet fold. His fingers left her pussy but her protest turned to a deep groan as he pushed himself into her tight heat. The sheer size of him made her squeeze hard around his length and he gasped, steadying himself with a hand on her hip, snaking the other one under her waist, taking hold of her.

“Gorgeous girl, you feel so good around me, how are you so fuckin’ tight,” he faltered, his head falling against her shoulder as he drew a deep breath.

“Billy, please, please move,” she moaned, her pussy contracting around him and he growled as he pulled almost all the way out, grabbing onto her hips and sinking himself into her again. Her whimpers made his cock twitch and swell inside her, and as his fingers reached down and found her clit again he set a steady, fast pace. Heat was rising rapidly in her, his body seemed to envelop her, his muscular leg pushed up between her own, one arm curled around her waist, pulling her hips down on to him, the other draped around her hips, fingers eagerly sliding and teasing her clit as his heavy cock slipped in and out at a punishing rate. His breath was ghosting over her shoulder, hot and damp, and as she leaned her head back into him, she felt his teeth sink into her shoulder with a groan. With a cry of his name she convulsed, tightening her grip on his hair as he felt her cunt clamp down around his cock, choking it as he chased her orgasm with his own.

Afterwards, as he was softening inside her, he gripped her jaw and gently turned her face towards his, pressing his lips against hers in a soft, chaste kiss.

“Gorgeous girl,” he mumbled, “I’m gonna take a shower and then we should see about that diner.”

The afternoon was slipping into early evening as they left the diner and got into Butcher’s car, making their way over to The Flatiron in the slow peak hour traffic. There’d still been no news on McKay and Eve was quietly starting to wonder if he’d slipped away, that he wasn’t coming back to the hotel. The short winter evening was quickly making the streets light up with billboards and street lights, slushy snow splashing up around the Cadillac’s tyres. The inside of Butcher’s car was quiet, both occupants deep in thought, but Billy’s hand was firmly on Eve’s thigh, the warmth of his large palm radiating through the fabric of her trousers. It felt strangely comforting and familiar to have it there, Billy’s former animosity turned into something that felt almost protective. It had been an unspoken conversation, to let things rest for now, while the supe was still at large. Whatever had begun between them would have to wait until this mission was over.

“If we both survive,” Eve thought to herself before squashing it down to the heavy lump in the pit of her stomach. The power of the supe was unnerving and demanded full commitment to take down, she feared her judgement would be clouded if worst came to worst. Who would she be able to kill if needed? McKay absolutely. But Billy? And would Billy kill her if necessary? Two days ago she would’ve said yes without hesitation, now she wobbled around the answer and it scared her. There was very little room for error in their line of work, and now there was another complication factoring in.

Inadvertently she let a deep sigh escape her as she looked out of the car window and she felt Billy give her leg a squeeze.

“Penny for your thoughts, luv,” he said softly.

“Just the usual, replaying scenarios, possible outcomes, next move, you know the routine,” she half lied, not looking back at him.

“Yeah, I know,” he gave her leg a gentle pat and silence settled in the car again.

A little while later Butcher pulled up in front of The Flatiron, miraculously finding his usual spot open, and they made their way up to the office, where Hughie and MM were bent over a couple of desks.

“Evening, lads,” Butcher greeted them as he closed the door, “Any news from Frenchie and Kimiko?”

“Only that Frenchie’s contact came through, Frenchie has the gear to hopefully take down the supe now,” MM replied, giving Butcher and Eve a curious look.

“If he ever comes back to the hotel,” Butcher grumbled, “It’s been over thirty-six hours of surveillance and no sight of him.”

“If he doesn’t turn up by tomorrow night we’ll have to assume he won’t be returning,” Eve said, looking at Butcher who was rubbing a hand over his beard.

“Yeah, we might need to start working on a plan B,” he replied, looking back at her. “Why don’t you and Hughie go over the files again, see if you can pick up on something we missed. MM and I should set up Frenchies equipment, make sure we can get it into place when we need it.”

“Alright, sure, sounds good,” Eve nodded and started pulling out her laptop as Hughie came over, offering her a coffee from the office machine. Before long they were huddled around a couple of screens, slowly trawling through reams of information.

Butcher made his way over to the weapons storage at the back of the office, MM following behind.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?” MM hissed as the door to the small storage room closed behind them.

“Did no such thing, mate,” Butcher smirked, “we had some breakfast, dropped her off at her flat and then I had a nice long kip at my place.” He turned to one of the ammo cases on the small table and opened it.

“Bullshit, Butcher. You’re in the same clothes as yesterday, I can smell her body wash on you and frankly, you look like you just got laid. I know that look. It’s been far too long since I had that look.”

“No idea what you’re talking about, MM,” Butcher scoffed, his back still turned to the bigger man.

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t let getting your dick wet cloud your judgement. Like you said, this supe is fucking dangerous. Don’t you fucking risk our lives for...” MM’s words were cut short by Butcher suddenly turning and slamming his arm across MM’s chest, forcing him up against the gun rack.

“Don’t you fuckin’ question my judgement, MM,” he growled loudly, “and keep your nose out of my fuckin’ business, mate.” WIth a shove Butcher stepped away from MM who sneered at him.

“Just keep your stubborn fucking head in the game, Butcher.”

He stalked out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him, making both Eve and Hughie look up from their screens.

“Everything alright, MM?” Hughie asked.

“Yeah, just Butcher being Butcher,” MM replied, sitting down in front of his own computer.

Eve pulled her eyebrows together in a frown and looked over at the weapons storage door but decided against getting involved. Both she and Hughie had heard Butcher's loud voice through the door and although Eve had no doubt what business Billy wanted MM out of, it was probably smarter to not get between the two men right now. With a sigh she went back to the files, complications were already happening as a result of their actions.

Butcher remained in the weapons storage for a good half an hour before emerging and making his way over to his desk, not looking at MM or Eve in the process, and getting into his own work. The time crawled slowly forward, the only voices in the office was the low hum of Eve and Hughie discussing some details in the files, while the sky outside the window gradually went darker. Eventually MM and Hughie got up to get ready to take over from Frenchie and Kimiko in the van.

“I’ll come over too,” Butcher spoke up for the first time in a couple of hours, “Need to check out where we can set up the gun for Frenchie.”

As Hughie and MM readied themselves, Butcher went over to Eve’s desk, stopping with his back to MM.

“You coming too, luv?” he asked in a low voice so only she could hear and she looked up at him with a smile.

“Do you want me to come, Billy?”

“I’d feel better if you did, yeah,” he dropped his hand to hers on the desk and gave it a gentle squeeze while his lips turned up in a small, crooked smile.

“Give me a second then, I’ll pack up,” Billy stepped back from her desk as she stood and got her things together. Looking back at MM and Hughie he barked an order.

“Meet us over there, Edwards and I will follow in my car.”

It was well and truly night time by the time Butcher and Eve arrived in Hunt’s Points, a few minutes after MM and Hughie. They’d already swapped places with Frenchie and Kimiko in the van, the latter waiting for Butcher down the street by Frenchie’s car.

“Monsieur Charcuterie, Mademoiselle Edwards,” Frenchie greeted them both, opening up the trunk of a car and lifting out a long black case. It was conspicuous, but the street was empty as the four of them made their way towards one of the alley ways.

“I scouted this earlier,” Frenchie said, “we can get up to the roof at the back of this building, gives me a perfect sight line into his room.”

“If he ever shows up,” Butcher grumbled, “we’re looking at plan B, if he’s not back by tomorrow night.”

“It has been too long,” Frenchie agreed as they approached a ladder, hanging low to the ground. With Butcher’s tall frame it was no effort to pull it down so that they all could climb up, Butcher taking the lead with Eve taking up the rear.

Up on the flat roof Frenchie quickly found a spot that suited him and started setting up the sniper rifle. Butcher handed him a box of regular ammo.

“In case you need to shoot more than just tranq shots,” he said and Frenchie nodded.

Satisfied that Frenchie was set up and ready to go if needed, Butcher and Eve made their way back down, leaving Kimiko with Frenchie.

“How you feeling, luv?” Butcher asked as they walked back to his car. “Need some dinner? Or more sleep?”

“Do you mean sleep, Billy, or ‘sleep’,” you made air quotes in the air as Billy chuckled.

“I mean actual sleep, we’re meant to take over for MM and Hughie at 8 am.”

“Dinner and actual sleep sounds like a good idea then,” Eve said and started walking towards the passenger side of the car but Billy suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his chest, pushing her backwards until she was pressed up against the brick wall of the alley, his face bent down close in to the crook of her neck.

“Jeez, Billy, I thought you said actual sleep,” Eve laughed but he quickly put his large palm over her mouth, his eyes intense and serious. With a slight nod of his head he motioned out towards the opposite side of the street.

“Moan, like we’re making out,” he whispered, “keep an eye on him.”

Eve glanced to where Billy had motioned and suddenly saw the supe, McKay, walking towards the hotel entrance. He glanced over at them and Eve pulled Billy closer, moaning into his shoulder.

“Oh, babe, just like that, don’t stop,” Billy’s hands came up to her breast, clearly palming it under her jacket as he grabbed the hair at her neck, pulling her head down out of view from McKay.

Over the top of Billy’s head she could just about make out McKay continue on towards the hotel, she faked a moan again as Billy pushed his leg between her thighs and angled her slightly so that she could see McKay better. With a final few steps he disappeared behind the doors and Eve quickly pushed Billy back, reaching under her coat to pull her gun, flicking the safety off.

“He’s in the hotel, we need to get to the van and give Frenchie a head’s up.”

Butcher nodded, pulling his own gun from under his black coat as he took long strides back to the van. Giving it a sharp knock with his knuckles they impatiently waited for Hughie to slide the door open.

“Heads up, boys, he’s just entered the hotel,” Billy hissed as he climbed into the van, Eve following close behind, “We just saw him, don’t think he saw us though.”

“Oh shit, Frenchie all set up?” MM asked, grabbing the radio and hailing Frenchie.

“Ye, should be ready to go,” Butcher replied as he and Eve crouched down to get a better look at the monitors.

Frenchie’s “D’accord,” came through the radio and in silence the four in the van waited, intently staring at the monitors. Before long, the light in the supes room came on and he started moving around, seemingly getting ready for bed.

Butcher picked up the radio and hailed Frenchie;

“Whenever you have a clear shot, Frenchie.”

“D’accord,” Frenchie replied, the slight shuffle of the rifle on the concrete roof heard through the radio static.

A few seconds passed and then the shot came through the radio, the silencer on the rifle muffling the shot to barely nothing. On the monitor the window cracked as McKay bounced back from the impact, crumpling to the ground, the tranq shot visible as he fell.

“Ok, let’s go,” Butcher growled, “Frenchie, send down Kimiko to meet us outside the room. Give us a shout if you see that fucker move an inch.”

As the four of them scrambled out of the van Butcher barked orders, “MM and Hughie, go up the backstairs when we get inside, if he wakes up I want eyes on what direction he goes. Edwards, you’re with me.”

Kimiko caught up with Butcher and Eve as they started up the stairs. They went fast but silently, both with guns drawn, Kimiko trailing behind them. As they reached the hotel room door Butcher paused for a second, holding up his hand, all three listening intently for any movement on the inside.

“Frenchie,” Butcher whispered into the microphone attached to his earpiece, “we clear?”

“All clear,” Frenchies' voice came through their earpieces.

Carefully Butcher opened the door, he’d quickly picked the old style lock, and slid it open. Through the opening they saw the supe lying flat on his back where he’d fallen. Guns drawn, they advanced carefully into the room, Butcher in front, and then it all happened very fast.

McKay jerked awake and sat up, staring at the three of them for a split second before Butcher took aim. Launching himself at Butcher, McKay grabbed his gun arm, making Butcher’s bullet go wide. McKay locked on to Kimiko who seemed to struggle with an invisible force for a few seconds before grabbing Eve’s gun and shooting herself with it. Kimiko jerked away at the last second and the bullet hit her chest, Frenchie’s roar came through their earpieces as she crumpled to the floor. With Kimiko down Eve dove into the small bathroom just inside the entrance, cursing loudly, her gun still on the floor by Kimiko. Through the open door she could hear Butcher turning and advancing on her. The supe was somewhere further into the room but he had eyes on Butcher and Eve knew McKay was now controlling him.

She scrambled to her feet, launching herself at Butcher just as he rounded the corner to the bathroom, knocking him off balance for a second and slipping past him towards her gun on the floor. But Butcher turned surprisingly fast and grabbed her wrist, yanked her up, slamming her into the opposite wall. Eve felt her head knock hard against the wall and she slid down, fighting unconsciousness. Butcher was right over her and with a desperate kick she managed to push him off just a little bit, enough for her to reach the gun on the floor. But Butcher was too strong, slamming her head back with his elbow he grabbed her wrist, bending it back. Sharp pain shot through her arm as her wrist snapped under Butcher’s powerful hands, the gun falling back to the floor as she cried out in agony. He let go of her wrist and his hands closed around her windpipe, pressing hard on her throat. Breathing became impossible, she scrambled, trying to reach the gun but black dots were dancing at the edges of her vision, she felt herself slipping further.

A sliver of cool metal grazed her thumb and she scratched at it, grasping the very edge of the gun’s handle. With a final effort she stretched her hand out just a little bit further and it closed around the solid metal. Her wrist screamed in protest as she lifted it up but in the very corner of her eye she saw McKay move closer and she pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed loud in the small room as her vision shrank to just a small pinprick, darkness taking over.

Chapter 14

#billy butcher smut #billy butcher #billy butcher fanfic #billy butcher fanfiction #the boys

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hecatemoon87 · 2 years

Text

The Vampire of Camden Town - Alfie Solomons PART I

You can also read: The Vampire Devil Delaney / The Brooklyn Vampire (Bob from the Drop) / The Insatiable Vampire (Freddie Jackson) Part I & Part II / The East End Vampire (Reggie Kray) Part I

Part II

Warnings: Talk of Blood Drinking and Sex

Words: 2277

It happened right after the war, on my way back to London town. A bullet wound I got from the Jerries had become infected and I was on me deathbed, about to shake hands with God himself. But then she came to me. A goddess from ancient times crept into my room to whisper sweet words and drink my blood. She asked me if I wanted to live forever and I told her fuck yes. Get me the fuck out of this bed, ‘cause I’ve got plans, big plans.

And now here I am, a hundred fucking years later, still making plans. I own most of Camden Town now. You can’t throw a rock without it landing on a piece of property I own. My name’s a fuckin’ brand. Solomons’ Flats, Solomons’ Agency, Solomons’ Bakery, Solomons’ Rum, etc. I tell people I’m Alfie Solomons’ great grandson. Yeah I know, striking resemblance to the old bulldog.

I have everything. Power, wealth and fame. But it gets lonely, you know? And I’ve got my eye on this woman. She ain’t from Camden, no. She’s imported from across the pond, an American. And although I do love my London ladies, this Yankee princess is special. I’ve seen her around, stirring up all kinds of trouble. She reminds me of gunpowder. Looks innocent enough, but if you don’t handle it carefully, it will blow everything to pieces. And fuckin’ hell, I want that. I want her to upheave my life, turn it fuckin’ inside out and set it all on fire. I want to feel something, mate. After being alive for over a century, you become numb. Empty inside, as it were.

Tonight is Halloween and I’ll be doing what my kind does best, hunting. I think it’s time she finally met ol’ Alfie Solomons, The Vampire of Camden Town.

— o — o —

Inside the club the DJ played loud EDM, the bass blasting out over the dance floor. Young people from all over London gyrate their bodies to the hypnotic beat, drunk on life, alcohol and drugs. Alfie moved silently in the shadows, seen but unseen. If he had wanted anyone to notice him completely, he would have fucking allowed it. And if he had allowed it, they’d see a very handsome man with a well groomed beard, wearing a stylish three piece suit and an expensive peacoat. He was not fond of clubs, not like these anyway. In his day, clubs were classy and played good music. The noise bothered him, but he wasn’t there for entertainment, he was there for her.

Her name was Beatrix Laveau and she was dancing carefree on the dance floor. She was wearing an alluring witchy outfit that evening. A tight black laced bodice, a short black skirt with thigh high fishnet stockings and black stiletto heels. She had made her eyes smokey and her lips black for that Halloween’s evening out. As she danced, she bent over arching her back and then returned upright. Alfie swallowed hard, as he had seen her shapely bottom and the thin black lace panties that barely covered her skin.

He emitted a deep growl from his chest and his eyes slowly burned with the hellfire. Suddenly, Beatrix paused in her dancing and looked around. She could feel her skin prickle with goose flesh and she touched the back of her neck to feel hair standing on end. She glanced around the club, wondering who was staring at her, but she saw no one. Narrowing her eyes into the crowd, she flipped her hair over her shoulders in annoyance.

“Clever little miss. You feel me don’t you, pet?” Alfie whispered from the shadows.

Her paranoia was justified when she felt someone’s hand ride up under her skirt, giving one of her firm cheeks a good squeeze. She turned around immediately and pushed away a young man wearing a werewolf costume.

“Oh, real nice, jerk!” she snapped and stormed off the dance floor.

“Dollin’ yourself up, but don’t let the boys touch? Good girl,” Alfie said under his breath.

Beatrix was done with the club. She had only gone because her cousins had insisted. She had wanted to perform a wiccan ritual, as she and her family were witches. But her cousins had told her it was old fashioned and that she should go out and have a little fun. She was bitterly regretting her decision as she grabbed her purse and coat and headed out the back exit.

What she didn’t know was that the man in the werewolf costume had watched her leave and he had followed her. And, unfortunately for the werewolf, he didn’t know that Alfie’s red eyes had followed him out the door.

“Tosser. I’ll fuckin’ make you a late night snack,” he said, blending back into the shadows.

Beatrix walked quickly down the alley, wrapping her coat tightly around her body. A bitter autumn wind rushed down the alley, pushing up the dry leaves and causing a loud rustling that blocked out the sound of the young man approaching from behind. He grabbed her arm and pushed her up against the alley wall.

“You weren’t being very nice back there. Maybe this will convince you to spread those gorgeous legs of yours,” the man said, pulling out a switchblade.

Beatrix closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the pain to come. Suddenly, the man was yanked backwards into the darkened alley. She opened her eyes to see a darkness, nothing like anything she had ever seen. It was an abyss, a swirling endless void that consumed all light and all life. And from that darkness came the screams of the man. Blood curdling screams, screams of horror and despair making Beatrix tremble with fear. She wanted to move, she wanted to run., but she was frozen to the wall.

Finally, she got herself moving and ran. But her heels hindered her from moving quickly and just before she exited the alleyway, she fell. Bracing herself for impact on the cold, hard ground, she found herself in the arms of a man. She opened her eyes and saw a bearded man with deep calming blue eyes.

“You alright there, luv? Looks like you had a bit of a tumble,” he said.

His voice was soft and gentle, he was also very handsome. He held her close, in a comforting way. But he was a stranger and she was still terrified from the screaming. Her dainty hand lashed out and slapped him across the face.

“Blimey,” Alfie said, releasing his hold on her.

She sank down to the cold ground of the alleyway and shouted up at him.

“Who the fuck are you? Don’t touch me!”

Alfie raised a hand to his face, the heat she had left on his cheek felt fabulous. He could hear her blood coursing through her veins, pumping hard from terror and now rage. He knew she’d be absolutely delicious when the time came to drink her blood. He pulled the fabric of his pants near his knees upward and squatted down to her eye level.

“Name’s Alfie Solomons, luv,” he said.

“Solomons…as in the name that’s plastered every fucking where in Camden Town?” she asked.

“Yeah, one and the same,” he said.

“Oh, nice try creep. I’m not going to fall for that!” she said, glaring at him.

He shrugged, took out his wallet from his back pocket and removed his I.D. He handed it to her and she snatched it away. Her green eyes scanned over the card and she handed it back to him.

“There’s nothing on there that explains why you are lurking around in an alleyway,” she said.

“You’re gonna catch your death sitting on that cold ground,” he said, ignoring her question and returning his I.D. to his wallet.

She attempted to get up on her own, but with the heels she was having difficulty. He bent down and took her arm, pulling her up with ease. Once she was rebalanced on her heels she slapped him away.

“Alright, alright, put your claws away, kitten,” he said, letting her go and casting his hands upwards to show he meant no harm.

“I’m leaving. Something’s back there, it just killed a man. I’m not sticking around to find out what it is,” she said, brushing past him and onto the sidewalk.

He strolled alongside her, putting his hands in his pockets.

“You don’t need to worry about all that. That wanker had it comin’,” Alfie said, casually.

She turned and looked at him, her eyes wide with horror.

“You did that?” she gasped.

“I did. He was a twat, wasn’t he? He tasted like shite,” Alfie said.

He looked over to see her running away from him. He smiled, watching her hips wiggle as she hauled ass. He was impressed by how quickly she could run in heels. He used his vampire magic to shift through dimensions and waited for her on the other side of the building.

Beatrix cleared the corner, looking back in hopes she had lost him. Relieved she didn’t see him anymore she turned back around and screamed. There he was, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“What’s your hurry, luv? Night’s still young, innit?” he said.

“Stay away from me! I know what you are!” she said, backing away slowly.

“I know and I know what you are, luv. Look, I just wanna talk,” he said, walking toward her.

“You…you stay away! I know magic, I can hurt vampires,” she said, but she didn’t sound convincing.

“I bet you do, luv. Why don’t you calm down, yeah? Come back to my flat, have a drink and talk?” he said, proceeding towards her.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said, edging away.

Alfie nodded sympathetically. “Course not. But you’re a good girl, ain’t you though? You’ll listen to Alfie, won’t you, luv?”

She slowly blinked and she began to look sleepy.

“You look cold. Let’s just go back to me flat, yeah?”

Alfie paused for a moment, hoping that his mesmerism had worked. He was worried because she was a witch and he was unsure if it would work.

“Yeah, I feel cold. That sounds fine,” she said, dreamily.

He sighed with relief and took out his phone to dial his chauffeur. Within the hour they were back at his flat, sitting on his sofa. He had made her some tea and when he returned, he snapped his fingers, bringing her back to reality. She gasped as she came out of the trance and looked around the room in a panic.

“Oh my god, where am I!” she shrieked and stood up.

“You’re safe, just sit down,” he said, placing the tea to the side. He stood up and tried to guide her back to the sofa.

“No!” she said, and started to slap at him.

He liked how feisty she was being. Her fury was starting to get him randy. He had a sudden impulse to turn her around, yank down her panties and spread her legs apart. He wanted to skim his fingers over her quivering cunt, slip them inside and get her gushing wet, then spread her over his massive cock. He knew she’d be a vocal little creature, moaning sinfully as he pounded her into submission.

He closed his eyes and focused all his will power on controlling himself. Once he felt the feeling dissipate, he returned his focus on Beatrix wailing her tiny fists against his chest.

“Alright, poppet, here we go,” he said, grabbing her by the throat and shoving her down to the floor.

“Get off me!” she screamed and beat at him harder.

Alfie straddled her and held her throat. He didn’t squeeze, he simply held her against the floor with his body weight. As she struggled, he looked off into the distance, thinking about what he needed to do the next night. Meanwhile she kicked, slapped and cursed him.

“That’s right, luv. Get it all out of your system,” he said, nodding.

Several moments later, he could sense her strength was tapering and her struggling becoming weaker. And then finally she stopped altogether. He felt her breathe heavily as she caught her breath.

“Fine, what do you want?” she finally said.

“Good, I knew you’d change your mind,” he said, getting up and pulling her with him.

She took a seat on the couch and he handed the tea he had set down earlier. Beatrix took the tea and frowned at it.

“I'm so not drinking this,” she said.

“Bloody hell woman. Fine, don’t drink it then,” he said.

He watched as she looked down at the tea again, then looked at him.

“Don’t you bloody dare,” he said, but it was too late.

She splashed the lukewarm tea in his face and bolted for the door. Alfie sat there just for a moment and shook his head. He’d get her to settle down if it was the last thing he did. He stood up and transported himself to the front door, blocking her from opening it.

“Let me go!” she whined.

He grabbed her arm and dragged her back to the sofa, firmly placing her back on it.

“Shut your pretty mouth and listen,” he said, sternly.

She stared at him, seemingly affected by his command.

“Your name’s Beatrix Laveau, innit? He asked.

She nodded slowly.

“And you're descended from Marie Laveau, the great Vodoun priestess of New Orleans?” he asked.

“Yes. Now, just tell me what you want already!” she said, getting annoyed.

“I want to drink your blood,” he said.

To be continued, second part in the works!

#alfie solomons #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fan fic #tom hardy smut #alfie solomons smut #vampires #tom hardy vampires

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sanctaignorantia · 7 months

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Thanks to @lensky-polonium and @norvicensiandoran for correcting me on which lullaby this is. It's actually Rock-a-bye Baby, also known as Hush-a-bye Baby.

youtube

The rhyme exists in several versions. One modern example, quoted by the National Literacy Trust, has these words:

Rock a bye baby on the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock, When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, And down will come baby, cradle and all.

The rhyme is believed to have first appeared in print in Mother Goose's Melody (London c. 1765), possibly published by John Newbery, and which was reprinted in Boston in 1785. No copies of the first edition are extant, but a 1791 edition has the following words:

Hush-a-by baby on the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock; When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, Down tumbles baby, cradle and all.

The rhyme is followed by a note: "This may serve as a warning to the proud and ambitious, who climb so high that they generally fall at last." x

I particularly didn't want to think too much about this song because it also has a meaning for me as I own a string doll that plays the same lullaby I got as a baby. So I'll basically let Kojima surprise me with it, unless he quickly puts Higgs in charge of singing it to someone on a future occasion. But in my quick research I realized that there are several stories behind the meaning of its creation and now that we know the exact name, it's easier to look it up.

Sweet dreams :)

#death stranding #about-ds #death stranding 2 #rock a bye baby #hush a bye baby #Youtube

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murderousginger · 2 years

Text

First Bite

Alfie Solomons x OC (!vampire)

Peaky blinders

Fireside Fables

Word count: 1,771

Warnings: stalking. Kidnapping. Blood.

The first night she saw him she brushed it off as a coincidence. By the second night he was there, she realized that he was watching her.

She had to pick a side if she wanted to survive in London. The streets were divided like puzzle pieces, each place separated by the gangster that owned it but stitched together to create the city. She picked the Italians. Or more so, her family lived in their section of the world and the only job she could take that could afford her to some day leave was with the Italians.

Sabini took particular care of his club girls, giving them all silver necklaces with a symbol on them that represented his clubs. Hers was an ornate E for the Eden club.

"If a fucking ruffian so much as stares at you wrong, bird, just pull out your necklace and tell them that Sabini will fuck them up if you don't get home safely," Sabini would wheeze. "I don't have time for fucking animals in my neighborhoods. They'll fucking die on the first report."

Most men would avoid any woman on the streets in your part of town, especially in the late hours of the night. Sabini made it crystal clear what he allowed and didn't allow in his neighborhoods.

So the first and only time a man came up to her in the twilight of dawn, she was caught unaware.

"Give me your money, bitch!" The man growled, looking side to side before jabbing the air in front of her with a knife.

"I - I- I-" she whimpered, shaking in place as her hands went to pull her necklace from the cleavage of her dress. "Sabini –"

"Sabini will be very fucking angry if you carve up one of his pets, mate," a dark voice chuckled behind her. "Best find a new target."

The man in front of her turned deathly white as he looked past her shoulder. His eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment before they widened and he dropped his knife and ran. She let out a rattled breath before turning to her savior.

"Thank you–"

She froze in her tracks as she saw the pale man. His hat lay low on his brow, hiding any hair he might have on his head, but his reddened beard sprouted from the hat and circled his face to hide the smirk pressed on his lips. His hand, covered in jeweled rings, stretched atop a cane that she hadn't remembered hearing. His suit was nice, but his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a small tuft of matching hair.

"No need to thank me," he said, slowly revealing a smile that caused her to jerk in fear. It felt too predatory, too primal.

"You were getting the words out, pet," he said. "I just said them faster."

"My name is Alfie," he said as he took a step closer and extended his hand. "And you are?"

"Rose," she whispered as she thoughtlessly grasped his hand.

His hand was ice cold. She shuddered.

"Lovely as one," Alfie murmured as he leaned down and kissed her trembling hand. "Sabini was smart to pluck you as one of his own."

"I'm just a server for Eden," Rose whispered as goose bumps ran up her arm and her hair stood on end on the back of her neck. "I'm not special."

"Beautiful and modest," Alfie said as he let go of her hand and took a step back.

Rose relaxed instantly, confused but more at ease as his eyes watched her closely. She smiled a small smile.

"Thank you, but I better go," she said as she took a step back.

For some reason she had the urge to not turn away from the man, but she needed to go home.

"Another night, then, pet," Alfie offered as he tipped his hat.

And indeed, she saw him another night. And another. And another.

Alfie began showing up at the Eden. At first, he would sit across the club and watch her. Ask his server questions about her; what she liked, disliked. Then slowly he began to sit closer and closer. A table closer every night until he was finally seated in her section and could ask her questions himself.

They were small, innocent questions like what her favorite food was or her favorite flower. Then they became more intrusive, like if she had family or friends. What she did in the wee hours of the morning after work. If she had a lover.

Rose felt compelled to answer him, but feared giving him the information. He would nod and mutter about what a good girl she was, earning a shot of fear and delight through her. She was conflicted; no one ever showed her such interest before.

Rose was a quiet girl who had no living relatives close by. She was a good girl that could only justify working where she did because even though she worked for a criminal, her job was legal and she herself was not a part of any illegal activities. She needed the money in hopes she could gather enough to leave the city and find a quieter village in the countryside to live. All she wanted was a quiet life with a good husband. London did not offer her that peace.

Alfie was always polite, but there was an undercurrent that scared her that she could not identify. He watched her a little too closely. He was a little too cold when he touched her. Something was wrong.

One night changed her forever.

"My darling flower," he purred as he reached for her hand in the early hours of the morning. "Do you need a ride home?"

Rose smiled as she allowed him to take her hand and she sat down in the chair near him. The club was slow tonight and closing soon. It was an hour to sunrise and a storm was raging outside. She did not want to run home in the cold rain.

"I'm not sure, Alfie," she drawled. "I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."

His cold lips caressed her hand.

"Then I'll take you to my home, pet," Alfie teased. "No inconvenience at all."

Rose gasped as Alfie chuckled. He let go of her hand and raised both of his hands as he lowered his head.

"Joking, love," he said. "No nefarious thoughts in my dirty little head. Only thinking of you catching a cold in this rain."

Rose shifted in her seat. Alfie sighed.

"Have I always been proper to you, flower?" He asked softly, meeting her eyes.

Her voice caught in her throat, so she nodded before she tried looking away. Alfie's strong hand lifted her chin until she met his eyes.

"Be a good girl, then," he whispered. "Be your sweet self and let me take you home."

She nodded. It only took ten minutes to gather her things and be off. The other girls didn't question her leaving with the man. He had been there so consistently, they thought he was her husband.

Rose told him what neighborhood she lived in, but soon Alfie took a weird turn. She froze in her seat, filling with fear, before Alfie patted her hand soothingly.

"Relax, flower," he said with a smile. "I know another way there. Relax."

His tone and touch felt foreign and cold, and yet it sedated her in her seat. She felt heavy and unable to move as her thoughts grew foggy. She couldn't focus on the road to tell if he was going the correct way.

A muffled scream grew in the back of her mind as she realized that the city streets fell away and the countryside surrounded them.

"Rose, love," Alfie said soothingly as he placed his hand over hers, "I need you to listen and relax."

Rose's eyes fluttered shut and darkness took her.

She woke on a hard bed, surrounded by the strong smell of flowers.

Her eyes flew open and she sat up, realizing she laid on a granite table surrounded by rose petals. Her dress had been replaced with a long thin white one.

"My girl," Alfie murmured as he walked up to her side and took her hand. "I have some explaining to do."

Rose pushed away but Alfie grabbed both of her wrists and pulled her to his chest.

"Now, now," he said through clenched teeth. "Be a good girl. Don't fight me now. It's too late for that. I've already decided."

Rose whimpered and began to cry.

"Sadness makes the blood sweeter, pet," Alfie breathed through open mouth, revealing his fangs. "Don't tempt me more."

Rose cried out as she pulled away again, unable to fight his strength.

"Right, fear," Alfie smiled. "Is more tempting. I'll have to speed this little talk up."

Alfie grabbed her chin and pulled her close until their lips were almost touching and she could only look into his blue eyes.

"I am immortal," he said as his brows knitted together. "I am very old. And you, flower," he said as his nose touched hers, "Are beautiful and sweet. You can teach me this new era as my wife, yeah? We can both find some peace in each other. Find the pieces we were lacking."

Rose continued crying quietly. Alfie gritted his teeth.

"Right," he said. "I know I can be a little gruff. Well, you'll learn to love me, yeah? We only have a millennia."

Alfie chuckled at himself as he pulled her head to the side and bit into her neck. Rose squealed in pain as she felt her neck break open and her life force leave her. Alfie's hands began to wander her body as she melted against him. He pulled away as her eyesight started to fade. He gently leaned her back until she was laying down like before. She looked up at him as he licked her blood off of his lips. He smiled wide as he shrugged before he brought his own wrist to his mouth and broke the skin.

"Can't blame a man for testing the merchandise," he chuckled as he pressed his wrist to her mouth and his blood slipped down her throat.

"Good girl," he rumbled as a tear slipped down the side of her face.

#peaky blinders #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons #storytime with murderousginger #murderousgingers fireside fables

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dormernts · 2 years

Text

the ton is buzzing ! have you heard ? AUGUSTA DORMER , LADY DORMER has arrived in mayfair ! i’ve been told that she is + ASTUTE & HIGH - SPIRITED but are also - MEDDLESOME & UNSCRUPULOUS but we shall more know about them throughout the season. they aim to HELP HER BROTHER REHABILITATE THE WHITE RABBIT AND SEE BUSINESS BOOM AGAIN before the season ends. we cannot be too sure but it is said that their loyalties THEIR FAMILY & WITH THEMSELVES. how true ? we are yet to find out.

[ basics ] ⸻

full name : augusta josephine dormer.

meaning : augusta means magnificent; josephine means god will increase. she was named after a princess of the dynasty, and her father, joseph.

also known as : gus, goose ( by her brothers ).

titles ( if applicable ) : lady dormer of wyng.

gender + pronouns : cis woman + she/her.

orientation : bisexual.

age : twenty eight; going twenty nine in two months.

[ background + familial ] ⸻

date of birth : may 12th, 1784.

place of birth : london, england.

residence : ascott house, near wing, buckinghamshire.

rank : gentry.

father : joseph dormer ✝ tba.

mother : amelia dormer, née ? ✝ 1784.

siblings : brother one, brother two ( both older ).

partner : publically, none. privately, see wanted connection below.

other familial relations : elise dormer, née tba ( former sister in law ) ✝ tba.

languages : english, french. has repeatedly attempted to pick on greek and latin.

[ appearance ] ⸻

portrayed by : olivia cooke.

height : 5′5″ / 165cm.

hair color + style : dark brown, nearly black; though originally wavy, or faintly curled, she primly curls them tighter with the assistance of hot tongs and overnight rag curls, pinning them to the latest of fashions. she is a big adept of hairdresses such as bonnets and big hats.

eye color : chestnut brown.

voice : per olivia's own voice, her tone is husky, yet honey - coated and she has an inclination to speak rapidly. as of the norm for the period and her station, her accent is posh, most likely some form of the RP english accent.

distinguishable marks + scars : dimples in her cheeks when she smiles, big doe eyes.

piercings + tattoos : pierced ears.

[ personality ] ⸻

zodiac sign : taurus sun, aquarius rising.

mbti : tba .

enneagram : tba.

temperament : the executive ( choleric - sanguine ).

moral alignment : lawful evil.

element : earth.

inspirations : becky sharp ( vanity fair ), jackie bukhart ( that 70s show ), capitu ( dom casmurro ), petra solano ( jane the virgin ), nurbanu ( magnificent century ), lucrezia borgia ( history ).

[ history ] ⸻

trigger warnings for: parental death, death by childbirth, gambling addiction.

the former baron and baroness dormer were once forces to be reckoned in, in the public eye. the first of his line to attend the house of the lords, and the minor cousin of a gentry family who became the diamond of her season, joseph and amelia were both gregarious and expansive, and their match was an envious one, both for their matching of wits and of the matters of the heart — they were desperately in love, and one accommodated and partnered the other: amelia aided him in relations outside of the parliament while commanding their household, and he rejoiced in oratory, as well as giving her every opportunity to shine on society.

her last labor came as a surprise — it was by the end of the season, and despite being heavily pregnant, amelia would not waste precious time, but the babe came too early. the birth was a mess, and though the child would come out hearty and loud, lady amelia would remain quiet and pale for the rest of the week. joseph fell in denial, believing his wife could somehow recover, but by the end of the week, amelia had made her peace with dreaded death, ordering her husband to care for their children and their life together, and naming their only daughter augusta, after a princess the lady had once much admired.

it was the least to say joseph did not entirely abide to his wife's plans. though there were some self - insistence, at least at first, not to forgo his family — particularly, augusta never believed her father wished her harm or believed her some evil that took away his beloved wife, nor did he ever remarry, when he as well could have had — his social excellence seemed to have been tightly connected to amelia, and, without her to guide him, the baron soon turned to vices. it was a method of relief: long nights with drinks over games of cards, locked in rooms with his friends from the parliament, but once friendly games became a constant monthly debit — for joseph's luck had run out, it seemed — it was felt. tongues began to wag, a rumor here and there about how often joseph was politely escorted away or denied from gambling tables, or how much he lingered at the tracks, and at boxing rings; when the london house was "closed off", "lended" to a "friend of the family" for the season, all that was said was that the family needed the fresh airs of buckinghamshire, away from the memories of lady amelia and her immense joy.

for augusta, however, those memories were important. without the guidance of her mother, she relied on her ghost, on the many portraits, on words of her brothers and father and every one who had once felt the glimmer of lady amelia. though in distance, augusta wished to emulate her mother: her beauty, her elegance, her charisma. like a silly girl, she would play with her clothes in front of the mirror, reigning over a society of dolls. her innocence was often interrupted, however, for her father's sake. there were costs to be cut, no matter how much she begged for a gown of the finest silk or for a new hat. at some point, her brother, impatience with the burden of the keeping of the house and of the family name due to their father's negligence, went on to show her the disorganization of the books, and the lack thereof of funds to spend in more frivolities than necessary for appearance's sake.

already better at card games than her father at the cusp of teenagehood, she tried to learn accounting. her odds were improved when she realized she took to numbers better than her peers; she was too young to handle the household finances, but alongside the governess, augusta sought to familiarize herself with the matters of keeping the household, taking a load off her brother's back. by the time she was of age, she controlled the ascott house herself, gladly so, and was more than eager to debut and return to society. london was a dream come true, but not only its societal aspect. augusta realized, along with her siblings, that there were gains to be had, less explored by those of higher society — and how foolish they were, not to see the opportunity spark!

tragedy struck merciless when the new baroness dormer, too, found her demise in the birthing bed. repeating his father's tale, baron dormer returned to ascott house to find relief in the fresh air, and though augusta more or less willingly accompanied him, instead of wallowing in purposeless misery, the family found gold on the purchase of a less than savory establishment, the white rabbit. theirs in all but in name, the dormer siblings are partners, and, of course, that includes augusta, who takes care of the books of the place meticulously, always seeking for an opportunity to improve their gains, as hands on as she can possibly be under the cloak of distance. naturally, the recent misfortune situation at the white rabbit much displeases her, but she is nothing if not positive this will be but a forgotten misdemeanor in no time, and the white rabbit — and their fortunes — shall continue to rise.

[ personality ] ⸻

grasping, opportunistic, materialistic, quick witted and dissimulated on the inside, on the outside, augusta is the typically accomplished gentlewoman, with practiced tunes in the pianoforte, polished steps of the cotillion and memorized pleasantries spoken with a honeyed tongue, paired with big eyes gleaming with mirth and faux innocence. she relies on keeping a clean image, and has no qualms to lie, fake, buy and manipulate her way into forcing the belief that her family’s reputation is unfounded ( #girlboss #gaslight #gatekeep, so true of her ). though she is contented with their entrepreneuring agenda — finding that running successful businesses built by them and not simply inherited all ready as many aristocrats do is very fulfilling, especially as a woman that would not have a place otherwise — she is eager for a spot in society as well, wishing she could shine as much as her mother once had.

[ tidbids ] ⸻

is mildly (quite) scared of horses due to an incident on the track as a child, and never learned how to horse ride.

[ wanted connections ] ⸻

the dormer family! they are deliciously cunning, but also very tight - or, at the very least, augusta believes herself able to manage both men and bring them together to uphold the family legacy as a whole, not just individuals. for the elder, i generally imagine that he has taken their father's failures and followed a path of improvement, and the younger, he may have been in the army or something? both of them have had a hand on bringing her up as a person, despite the not so big age difference between them all.

the white rabbit employees as a whole, but particularly, the madame, whom would be aware of the family's involvement with the estabilishment and augusta's, and fighter one, employed under the dormer state and whom i imagine to have a secret relationship of the romantic and/or sexual nature with augusta; it's not entirely pleasant, because she isn't, but there is a bit too much affection in there to loose the attachment ( slutty rec would be jack o'connell :cattongue: ).

friends, new or old! this also includes people who could have tried to pull away or have succeeded at that, believing the dormers to be too shady / improper, or people who don't believe the rumors ( augusta is certainly lying her ass off about it, so )

people who have hostile feelings towards the dormers for their alleged shady behaviors, and may try to keep them out of society somehow, which frustrates augusta as she longs to be a functioning part of it all. they could either believe being able to see past the airy nature she keeps and believe her a wolf just as her brothers, or not notice her dissimulation

regulars at the white rabbit, whom augusta would know either by official bookkeeping, or by gossip. she may use the knowledge of their enjoyment of the estabilishment to blackmail or simply to amuse herself. alternatively, people who owe debts to the dormers, or to the white rabbit, would also fall on this category

crushes, exes, etc! augusta may have a constant interest in the fighter, but she has a hidden romantic nature that has her fixating on pretty people as well as pretty things, and she just may be genuinely sweeter to those who hold either such exterior beauty or objects of luxury ( obviously open to women, men, etc, with a bit of a preference towards women )

suitor (s). augusta is not in a rush to marry, but if she is to do so, she would like it to be of high position and of good finantial situation; either way, feelings are not at all involved, nor does she want them to be.

#seasonsintro #i gave half a limb to make this work thanks t*mblr #some things are vague bc i want to set finer details with broders :~~)#✧ dialogue ⧽ 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑.#✧ portrait ⧽ 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑.#✧ meta ⧽ 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑.#✧ aesthetic ⧽ 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑.#✧ study ⧽ 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑.

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hebuiltfive · 1 year

Text

The Alaskan Train Crash: The Rescue.

It's what International Rescue do best, and it's a good job considering it's in their name.

Words: 2,116

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Additional Tags: Artist!Virgil, Post season three, slight AU, Mentions of hospitals, Mentions of Blood, description of train crash, Light Angst

Series: Part 1 of The Long Game

Notes: I've been working on the backstory to this entire story today, and I realised that I hadn't yet posted the next part, so here we go!

Disclaimers as usual: I own nothing but the words to this particular story.

I promise it will start to get more and more exciting once we finish these next two chapters and head on to the next part, but that's for another day.

Trigger Warnings: for mentions of blood and distress from a crash. Nothing more than before, really.

Read it below or on AO3 here.

Part 1:

Chapter 1 found here on Tumblr, or here on AO3.

Chapter 2 found here on Tumblr, or here on AO3.

Being so used to the call outs and time-precious rescues, Virgil was suited in his special exo-suit and out of Thunderbird Two in minutes. From the windows in the cockpit, Gordon saw him running over towards the wreckage moments later. He hated not being in the action, but he knew Virgil’s command was a wise one. If the snow did begin to threaten an avalanche, he’d be needed to deal with it so his brothers could finish the rescue. All he could do was sit back and wait until he was needed. Over the comms, he listened in to Virgil and Scott’s discussion.

“We need to get the driver’s cabin lifted so we can pull these guys out.” Scott claimed.

On the hologram in front of him, Gordon saw Virgil shake his head. “That will make the whole carriage more unstable than it already is. Moving it will risk the thing disintegrating and collapsing onto them.”

There was a gasp from the woman — Barbara, wasn’t it? — followed by more crying.

“We have to do something, Virgil.”

“I can try and cut through from the top, but that might take some time. I don’t know what the GDF used but metal on this thing is tough.”

Gordon’s listening in was interrupted by another blinking light on the comms unit. He smiled lazily in an attempt to hide the worry he felt after hearing part of Scott and Virgil’s conversation, and pressed answer. In his brother’s places appeared the hologrammatic image of Kayo Kyrano.

“What’s the situation?” Without missing a beat, she asked the moment Gordon accepted the call.

Being the Head of Security for International Rescue, Kayo had the most contact with the GDF out of all of them. Given her history and familial ties to the Hood, she had offered Rigby her assistance in trying to track him down again. So far they had been all over the globe. Kayo had barely been home. The whole thing could only have been described as a wild goose chase and the pressure, Gordon could tell, was finally starting to get to her.

“Simple train derailment.” Gordon replied, knowing that straight-up telling Kayo not to worry would have the opposite affect. “It’s something to do with the GDF. We’re working on getting out the crew. How’s London?”

“Quebec.” Kayo corrected him, pausing for a second before adding, “I can fly over if you boys need some more assistance?”

“We’ll be fine.” Gordon tried to reassure her. “Besides, I’m sure Rigby needs more help than we do.”

He saw her roll her eyes. From the way she was interacting outside the hologram, Gordon guessed she was in Thunderbird Shadow, or rather in the detachable motorcycle that Brains had fitted into the ship. “Need I remind you of the scrapes I’ve had to save your sorry ass from in the past?”

Gordon chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. She had a fair point. If they were to tally up the rescues the family had undertaken for each other, Kayo would be near the top of the leaderboard.

“If anything changes, let me know. Shadow can be with you in half an hour.”

“FAB. Why are you not in London anyway? The Hood get away again?”

Kayo sighed, clearly irritated. “Our target somehow managed to get word of our arrival. Rigby tracked him here. So far, we’ve got nothing.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who’s in need of assistance, K.”

“Watch it.” She warned teasingly, then took a quick glance over her shoulder. “I have to go. Keep me updated if things get… troublesome.”

“You got it!” Gordon responded as cheerily as he could before the hologram blinked out and he was back to listening in to his brother’s conversation.

An hour had easily passed and the cold of the night had truly begun to set in. After deciding an avalanche probably wasn’t on the cards according to John’s meticulous calculations, Gordon was down on the ground beside Scott and Virgil. He had brought with him portable heaters that were generating warmth for the three of them as well as the three rescuees. After many debates, trials and tests, Virgil had barely managed to laser through enough of the metal to get the crew out— he hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said the metal was unusually strong. Calls to Brains and Alan were made, but Brains couldn’t clarify what kind of metal the train’s skeleton had been crafted from. Whatever the GDF were doing with the train only became more suspicious.

Once the cut was made and lights were able to penetrate the inside, the cabin was visible properly to the boys for the first time. Though none of the three crew appeared badly wounded at all, there was so much blood. Across the controls, across the window, across their clothing. The scene might have made the average person queasy, but the Tracy boys were all expertly trained rescue operatives and had developed steel stomachs. They could handle almost anything. Though questions were already being thought up in each of the boys’s minds as to where this blood had come from, their main priority was still to get the three crew members free and to safety. The questions could come later.

Barbara, being the only conscious one at the time, had been recovered first, though it didn’t seem to stop her sobbing. Gordon administered a light sedative to Barbara and got her comfortable on one of the three hover-stretchers he’d also brought along with him. The second crew worker to be retrieved was a male in his late fifties. He, too, was placed on a hover-stretcher, covered by tin foil sheets to prevent shock and the cold. By the time Scott and Virgil had retrieved the final worker, a woman who was now starting to regain her consciousness, the GDF finally arrived on the scene. The three workers were handed over to the care of the GDF medical team. Their previous question surrounding the blood and lack of wounds were forgotten. It was cold and late. Tiredness finally began to creep up on all of them and, with the workers safe, all the boys wanted to do was return home.

“Scott? A word, please?” Colonel Casey had approached him from behind. Dressed in her livid-coloured military uniform, hands clasped behind her back, it would have been hard for someone to mistake her as anyone but a leader. Under her guidance, the GDF had flourished into an efficient global defence military that had managed to keep the peace across the globe for almost a decade. Yet, somehow the World Council still found causes to become increasingly displeased with her work. Recently, those displeasures seemed to have tripled and the stress was starting to wear Casey down. Though she was a stern woman, she had always had a weak spot for the Tracy family. Her years of friendship with Jeff had cemented her as a valuable and helpful associate, hence the ease both she and Scott felt as they strolled away to the sidelines to talk.

“I hope whatever was on that thing wasn’t too valuable.” Scott said once they were clear of prying ears. “Thunderbird Five did multiple sweep scans and found the whole thing empty. Looks like whoever derailed your train got away with all the loot.”

“About that…” Casey seemed to trail off, as though she was debating imparting this piece of information to someone outside of her organisation. After a moment, she had made her decision and continued. “Our goods are safe and sound, Scott, though we appreciate International Rescue’s efforts.”

Scott blinked. It was clear Casey wasn’t going to share all the details about whatever was in that train, but he figured there was good reason for it. Like the rest of his family, he trusted Casey. If she wasn’t talking, there was probably a good reason why.

“Well, I’m glad it’s all in one piece. Any idea of what could have happened?” He asked, though the answer he quickly thought of was one he’d been trying to disprove all night.

By the looks of Casey’s worried features, she too had been trying to do the same. “Though we cannot yet confirm the reason for the crash, we have some suspicions in mind. Having the crew be able to testify in the upcoming investigation will be most useful. For that, I thank you.”

Scott took in the devastation around them once again. Bootprints now dotted over the white flakes. It all looked so wrong; barren land like this shouldn’t have seen as many footprints as this gorge had done tonight, and certainly not under those circumstances.

When he turned back to Casey, her features were one of amused pride. “I take it you have Brains on the case?”

“Of course.”

“If you would, I’d like you to send him over to our testing facility in Abu Dhabi. It’s where we’ll be taking this thing. He’ll be able to run better tests there.”

“I’m sure he’ll beg to differ on that front, Colonel.” Scott cracked a smile. “Brains is a stay-at-home kind of guy, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Casey’s lips quirked into as much of a smile as she’d allow herself to have on the field.

Her comms unit buzzed at her. It was an unfamiliar tone, one that Scott hadn’t ever heard the GDF use before. Judging by the shift in Casey’s features, it wasn’t a call she was used to having either, nor one she looked particularly thrilled about.

“About time!” She murmured to herself, offering Scott an apologetic smile. “I need to take this. Thank you, as always, for your assistance, International Rescue. You saved the lives of three good people today.”

Scott offered her another nod. “It’s what we do.”

Casey turned and stalked off, answering the call as she left. “Colonel! I wasn’t expecting you to call back so soon. I may have a job for you…”

Scott had relayed Casey’s message to Brains on the flight home. The engineer had keenly agreed to the idea, which took Scott a little by surprise. By the time Scott, Gordon and Virgil had returned to base, all was quiet. Brains had relocated to his labs and Alan had taken his leave to his room. Only Jeff remained in the lounge, still sitting behind his desk.

Virgil peeled away to return to the solace of his art studio, a gentle nudge to Scott’s arm before he left. “Speak to dad. He has something he needs to tell you, but he’s worried you’ll fly off the handle again. Don’t, or I’ll set Grandma on you.” He added before Scott could argue the fact.

The warning had been enough to make Scott curious. He and Gordon approached their father and noticed he wasn’t alone. Gordon’s tired face lit up. A hologram image of their friend and London agent, Lady Penelope, was hovering over the desk.

“I don’t know if they’d like that, Jeff. They’re very particular…” Penelope was saying when Gordon appeared in frame.

“Milady, an honour it is to have you join us this fine night.”

Penelope laughed, Scott groaned and Jeff tried, but failed, to stop Gordon ushering him from his seat.

“Let me tell you,” Gordon continued, his mocking English accent disappearing as he finally sat himself down in the warm seat that had previously been his father’s. “There’s lots to catch you up on from Tracy HQ.”

“I dread to think.” The British aristocrat laughed, offering Jeff a sorry look. “We can talk more later, Jeff.”

“FAB, Penny. It was good to chat.”

“Okay, okay, go!” Gordon shooed his father away from the desk with a flick of his wrist. “Not being rude or anything, but I really need to… update Penny.”

Scott was sure Gordon was right about his urgency, though he doubted most of their conversation was going to be purely ‘Tracy HQ updates’. The two of them had made their relationship official in the days following Jeff’s return. Whilst Scott was happy for his younger brother, it did seem to make him more insufferable.

“Don’t stay up too late.” Scott pointed an accusing finger toward Gordon, who in turn offered a salute.

With a chuckle, Jeff left Gordon to his animate talking and offered Scott a sheepish smile as he headed toward the exit.

His brother’s words still fresh in his mind, Scott gently took his arm. “I hear from Virgil that we need to talk?”

Jeff’s face faltered slightly, but he nodded. “Meet me in my office upstairs. I actually have a couple of things I need to tell you.”

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #thunderbirds 2015 #fic: the long game #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #kayo kyrano #jeff tracy #lady penelope #five fics

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queen-of-the-avengers · 9 months

Text

CATFA: Part Nine

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, language, and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

The two of you spent the morning in each other's company just watching the sun rise. Thirty minutes before eight, you and Bucky flew back down so you can get ready to meet Steve and Howard in London's headquarters. There is a woman reading a newspaper with the headline "400 prisoners liberated!"

"Excuse me, we're looking for Howard Stark."

"He's in with Colonel Phillips." As soon as she sees Steve, she becomes more flirtatious. "Of course, you're welcome to wait." You roll your eyes and perch yourself up on a desk. Steve never knows when someone is flirting with him, so this could go one of two ways. "I read about what you did."

She's only interested in Steve despite your names being in the papers.

"Just doing what needed to be done."

"Sounded like more than that. You saved nearly four hundred men."

"Really, it's not a big deal," he chuckles awkwardly.

She gets up and saunters over to him seductively.

"Tell that to their wives."

"Uh, I don't think they were all married."

"You're a hero."

"Well, that... that depends on the definition of it really,."

She grabs his tie and pulls him closer to her.

"The women of America owe you their thanks, but seeing as they're not here..."

She dragged him to the spot where she once was and kisses him. He doesn't know what to do since he's never had this happen to him. All because he got taller and more buff doesn't mean he wasn't the same person he was before the change. If women gave him a chan ce before, they'd see how great of a guy he really is.

"Great, just what we need," you mutter to yourself. At the other end of the room, you see Peggy walking over in search of you and Steve. "It's about to get so much more interesting."

You could do something, but you want to see how this plays out. Peggy turns the corner and sees Steve making out with this woman. She looks hurt at the fact he's just another soldier, but she's not going to let it show.

"Captain!" Steve breaks apart from this woman who threw herself at him. He looks so guilty because he knows how much Peggy likes him. "We're ready for you, if you're not otherwise occupied."

"Agent Carter, wait," Steve says and immediately rushes to her.

"Looks like finding a partner wasn't that hard after all."

"Peggy, that's not what you thought it was."

"I don't think anything, Captain. Not one thing. You always wanted to be a soldier, and now you are. Just like all the rest," she huffs.

"Well, what about you and Stark? How do I know you two haven't been fondueing?"

"You still don't know a bloody thing about women!" she yells.

Steve looks absolutely broken at her words, and you quickly catch up to her to try and explain this.

"Peggy, wait. Steve is a good guy. That girl threw herself onto him and he didn't know what to do. You'll never find another man like him. He really likes you."

Peggy doesn't say anything to you and leads you two into Howard's secret lab.

"Fondue is just cheese and bread, my friend," Howard says to Steve.

"Really? I didn't think..."

"Nor should you, pal. The moment you think you know what's going on in a woman's head, it's the moment your goose is well and truly cooked. I concentrate on work, which at the moment is about making sure you and your men do not get killed. Carbon polymer," he says and points to a piece of cloth lying on a table. "It should withstand your average German bayonet. Although Hydra's not going to attack you with a pocket knife. I hear you're kinda attached to the shield?"

"It's handier than you might think," you answer.

"I took the liberty of coming up with some options," he shows you the different kind of shields he made. "This one's fun. She's been fitted with electrical relays. It'll allow you to..."

"What about this one?" Steve interrupts as he picks up a round silver shield.

"No! No! That's just a prototype."

"What's it made of?"

"Vibranium. It's stronger than steel and a third of the weight. It's completely vibration absorbent."

"How come it's not a standard-issue?"

"That's the rarest metal on earth. What you're holding there? That's all we've got."

"You quite finished, Mr. Stark?" Peggy asks as she makes herself known to the group. "I'm sure the Captain has some unfinished business."

"What do you think?" Steve holds the shield to his body.

Peggy immediately picks up a gun and starts shooting it at the shield to see how well it held together. The Captain quickly holds the shield up to protect himself until she is finished.

"Yes. I think it works," she smirks before turning to you. "Mr. Stark, I think it's Y/N's turn now."

"Oh, yeah, I have been curious as to what you can do," Howard says excitedly.

"Careful what you wish for, Mr. Stark," you chuckle before stepping to the side. "The first power I acquire allows me to transform," as you speak, your body begins to shift into Howard, "into any living organism down to the DNA structure just by simply looking at them." The next person you shifted into is Peggy. "As I shift, I gain that organism's strength as well as their weaknesses," you shift into Steve as you continued to speak, "and not only can I think the way they do, I can perform just like how they would."

"That's just the first part of what I could do." You transform back into yourself. This was your favorite part of the demonstration. "Now, the second part of my powers are a lot more complicated than shifting. I am an Avatar, which means I can control the four elements around me to do as I please. I can control the weather, to some extent. I can't mess with Mother Nature and take over her job, but I can bend the rules a bit to accommodate what I need."

"The first one, aerokinesis," you explain as you begin to hover above the ground. "The ability to manipulate air, wind, and gas. I can create winds faster than Earth's record, curse a town to a storm that can last forever, fly as high as I want as fast as I want, and even though I can use a great amount of air, I can also take it away so that it makes it hard for everyone in this room to breathe as I thin the air. However, I can't suffocate myself. Trust me, he's tried."

"The second one, hydrokinesis," you move on as you lower yourself to the ground. You lift your hands and the water molecules in the air begin to swirl around your fingers. The longer you do it, the more the water grows. "The ability to manipulate and control liquid water and mold it into any desired shape or form. I take the water molecules in the air and liquefy them. I can make water do what I want. Freeze," you freeze the water with a thought, "liquefy," the frozen water now unfreezes, "gelatin," the water turns into a gooey gelatin water substance, "and evaporate," you heat the water to gas it up. "Don't be fooled because I cannot drown for I can breathe underwater if I needed to. You don't know how many times he's tried to drown me."

"The third one, pyrokinesis," you demonstrate when your entire body drew up in flames. Everyone in the room backs away in shock, but the flames die down everywhere except for your hands. "The ability to create, control, manipulate, and generate fire, flame, and heat. I can make fires bigger than a forest fire, hotter than the sun, and just as deadly. My body can withstand temperatures hotter than the sun, and I do not leave with a scratch. Believe me when I say he's tried a lot of temperatures."

"Finally, geokinesis," you speak as the flames die down. As soon as the words leave your mouth, the ground below everyone's feet begins to shake, as if an earthquake is happening. You run your hands across the dirty floor as it begins to crack. Through the cracks, small rocks start to form into a tall skinny tower that transforms into a pillar. "The ability to control, manipulate, create, generate, and reshape or shape the earth, rocks, and stones. I can create earthquakes deadlier than anything humans have seen, can cause avalanches, mudslides, and quicksand."

The pillar you create breaks into a million pieces, and everyone watches as the pieces roll back into the cracks you caused in the ground.

"The third part of my power is I can create portals to different points in space. I was made from one of the six Infinity Stones, the space stone. That stone is being used by Johann Schmidt right now. I am the best weapon you got in fighting him. Put me with Steve, and we can be unstoppable. I've destroyed planets before, so trust me when I say I'll rain hell down on Schmidt," you finish your demonstration.

"I'm convinced," Howard shrugs.

"I had some ideas about the uniform," Steve says and hands a paper to Howard.

"Whatever you want, pal."

After your little presentation, people began to take you seriously. Steve's team trained and prepared to go out and wipe off Hydra from the map one base at a time. The first base was simple, child's play at best. The team used their guns and other weapons to kill Hydra soldiers while you used your powers to kill them. Sometimes you'd use the weather to kill or you'd transform into deadly animals like Black Mambas, Siberian Tigers, etc.

With each base you destroy, Steve marks it off the map. You do this until only one is left standing.

Word has it that Johann's assistant, Arnim Zola, isa on a high-speed train trying to deliver weapons to the last base. If you can get on that train, then you'll have a ride down to the base. It's snowing up in the mountains, and everyone is shivering as they try and get warm. There is a zipline connecting you to the mountain by the train tracks. Once the train comes, you'll have a short amount of time to get to it before your window closes and it's gone.

"Are you cold?" you ask your boyfriend.

"A little."

You place your hand on his shoulder and use your pyrokinesis to warm him up from the inside. He sighs in relief and kisses your cheek as thanks.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you more."

"Not possible."

You and Bucky walk over to Steve who is watching the tunnel carefully for the train to come.

"Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?" Bucky asks.

"Yeah, and I threw up?"

"This isn't payback, is it?"

"Now why would I do that?" he chuckles.

"We were right," one of the other guys says, and you three turn to face him. "Dr. Zola's on the train. Hydra dispatcher gave him permission to open up the throttle. Wherever he's going, they must need him bad."

The train sounds it's horn, signalling to you that it's right at the end of the tunnel.

"Let's get going because they're moving like the devil."

"We only got about a ten-second window. If you miss that window, we're bugs on a windshield," Steve encourages as he gets the equipment ready for the zipline.

"Better get moving, bugs!" The first person to jump is Steve, and you put Bucky closer to the edge but he stops. "You go first."

"I can catch up after. Go."

Bucky jumps, and you turn to the other guys who are staring at you. You wave to them before jumping off the side of the mountain. You fly toward the high-speed train and land safely next to your team. Only you, Bucky, and Steve are on this train. There are too many guys to transport, and there can only be a few guys before the window passes to jump.

You three sounded like the perfect people to go on this mission.

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