Oc Ship book (oneshots) (mainly TB)

TB | Lime x Black | Mafia AU

A/N: Woo so as requested by RedPotato1 ... I present: MAFIA TB!!

Anyways. I'm sure this is gonna be fun. But my knowledge on Mafia stuff is limited to the 1920s gangs in America due to prohibition, because of history, so we'll see what comes out of this XD

Wait I could set it in 1920s America because yEs - (no not everything is completely accurate I'm aware:'D)
Also, Lime and Black are both gonna be younger for this too Lime is 16 Black is 17

Okay also Lime is now part of ROTC (and I'm using Google to research it) so if I get stuff wrong, Auburn correct me pls :3)

Anyways, let the story begin!!

Thomas's PoV:

Marksmanship was what we were doing today. Handling guns when I was still a quite new member of ROTC? That seemed... not safe.
And I couldn't ask anyone else about it since, well, the rest of them didn't really seem to like me. The only other times I'd actually seen a gun was the guns police carried. All I know is 'they're dangerous, they're dangerous, they're dangerous'. That's what they said at the orphanage, anyway.

"Come on kid" the warrant officer barked, snapping me out of my thoughts. "You're not going to learn how to handle a rifle without a rifle"

I looked down at the weapon he was trying to pass me. They told me to never touch one... "I... no sir, I can't."

"What? You're scared of guns?" The officer questioned, "well today we're going to fix that. How else will you be able to defend your country?"

"I... I don't like war I don't want to hurt anyone" I mumbled, avoiding his eyes.
Murmurs could be heard as clearly, the other kids were observing the drama. "What, is he a pacifist or something?" "Mr Peace-On-Earth" "hah. Baby"

Ignoring their remarks, the officer commented "Don't worry. These may be real guns but they don't have any ammunition in them. We'll just be learning how to hold them an-"

All of a sudden, he was abruptly cut off, by nothing other than the sound of a gunshot.

James's PoV:

Sitting down in the van, twirling a knife through my black-gloved fingers, I scowled out towards the world through the one-way blacked-out window.
The world that had taken so much from me, more than it was possible for me to take back.

"Hey put that out," my uncle said, taking the cigar from my mouth. "It's not healthy for you."

"And I care because?" Came my grumbled reply, finally taking my eyes away from the window. My dad was the greatest mobster who ever lived, do you think I worry about risks?

Uncle Frank sighed. "Because you're my only nephew and I don't want you to get hurt."

"Too late for that" I huffed, leaving the knife on the seat behind me, gaze drifting out of the window.

"But it's not" he gently insisted, "things will get better, I promise, please try to stop being so resentful, and I know it'll take time, but-"

Suddenly, I snatched up my knife and called to our driver "Stop here. I'm bored."
Frank got up and tried to stop me as I threw the sliding door open and pulled my bandanna over my nose.