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~CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS~
- MORE MOD NOTES: Alright guys I know this fandom is really into historical accuracy and all that jazz but here's the thing. This is a KINK MEME and therefore historical accuracy is not
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Wilson raps on the bars with his baton a couple of times, he's a courteous fellow like that. Marcus glances up from the book he wasn't reading anyway.
"New cellmate, Aquila," the CO says by way of explanation, and then he's gone. Courteous but not very chatty, good old Wilson.
The guy -- shit, the kid -- is left standing there, his few possessions clutched to his chest. Marcus looks him up and down, takes in the nondescript brown hair and sharp features, oversized jeans hanging low on skinny little hips ( ... )
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Something like that, sure. Or maybe something like O'Donnell and his gang kicking the shit out of him after his shift at the laundry. Marcus has eyes and ears in all the right places.
"Look, Eric, I'll be honest with you. In this place, you've gotta belong. Now, you're a white kid, you have a couple of choices. There are the Nazis, but I wouldn't go there if I were you. There's O'Donnell, you've already met, I believe. And then there's me."
"Let me guess, La Cosa Nostra?" Eric drawls, sounding hugely unimpressed. "La happy familia?"
"You still have a working eye," Marcus says mildly. "It doesn't have to stay that way."
"Oh, we're down to threats, are we?" Eric grins, a muscle in his jaw twitching. For the first time Marcus wonders if he's in for first degree.
"You should mind your own business, Aquila. Word outside is, the lovely Camilla's been awfully busy drowning her sorrows."
Marcus is generally a pretty collected, cool headed person, up until the moment something inside just snaps and then off he goes. Too fucking ( ... )
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"In this place, you've gotta belong. Now, you're a white kid, you have a couple of choices. There are the Nazis, but I wouldn't go there if I were you. There's O'Donnell, you've already met, I believe. And then there's me.""
for some reason it's the sexiest fucking thing he could have said :D
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YOU ARE FOREVER MY FAVOURITE.
I WILL LIE AT YOUR FEET AND TALK SLUTTY TO YOU. ANYTHING. ANYTHING.
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"You are just..." Eric sighs, letting the rag flop to the floor. "Why can't you just leave me alone? I stay out of your way, you stay out of mine, everyone's happy."
"Oh, so you actually enjoy getting the crap beaten out of you? Looked in a mirror lately?"
The kid's been jumped again yesterday, probably. Marcus doesn't know when or by whom, but he's pretty sure the limp is a new thing.
"You don't want me for my beautiful face, then?" Eric asks shrewdly.
"Okay, let's get a few things clear, because you seem to have the wrong idea," Marcus says. "I don't want you, kid. I just don't want you to get killed. Call me a big softie. I also don't want to share living space with any of O'Donnell's trash. I have a rep to think of, you following me so far ( ... )
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♥♥♥
you know how I feel about you, mysterious nonnie.
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