#Downtime: Children of the New World | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rqgnarok · 1 year

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catalogue - sam wilson

fandom: marvel, the falcon & the winter soldier

wc: 4,368

warnings: implied smut, mentions of injuries and scars, blood and bruises. neutral pronouns, no use of (y/n).

summary: you and sam don’t get to see each other often, but when you do, there’s a ritual you insist on going through to deal with your time apart.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

You’re a sight for Sam’s sore eyes.

He hasn’t seen you in over six months. It’s an occupational hazard, he knows, but it’s the worst. Being the Falcon made his personal life take a step back in his list of priorities, and becoming Captain America meant setting the list on fire and declaring Sam Wilson’s downtime practically nonexistent. As far as he’s aware, Sarah and the boys are the only exceptions to the rule.

It’s not all on him. You’re an Avenger, too, even if you’re semi-retired. Semi, because the new kids still look for guidance as much as they can and you still keep a room at the Avengers compound because of it, even if scarcely decorated.

You make your entrance by scaring the shit out of him because of course, you have to.

“Is this what you call watching your six?”

Sam puffs out a sound between a scoff and a laugh. It’s always an interesting mix of emotions with you, Sam has never felt so safe and yet unbalanced than when he’s in your presence. It creates a sort of vacuum in his belly that has him feeling like a kid with a crush, but he’ll die before he ever admits that to anyone. Especially you.

“You know you don’t have to sneak up on me every time.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you quip, raising your brows and extending a hand that Sam takes to haul himself back on his feet. You click your tongue. “Gotta say, though, it’s a little less charming now that you’re Captain America. Where does that leave national security?”

Sam rolls his eyes so hard he’s about to give himself a headache, dusting off his ass and giving you a quick once-over, taking advantage of your sudden closeness to do so freely. “Thank Jesus the world still has you, then.”

“Only half time,” you shrug, unaware that Sam knows you’ve spent more time at the Avengers compound than your own apartment lately. If he has a few eyes that check up on you when you’re there, well. It’s only cause he worries. “You and Barnes playing in the Big Leagues leaves a lot of unfinished business for little guys like us.”

“Says the little guy who’s been to space,” Sam uses the same argument he always does when you try to downplay your importance in the job you do. It’s like a script, these meetings of yours, always under the excuse of responsibility until it’s not– until the conversation flows into what Sam has been aching for since the last time he saw you.

You roll your eyes like he knew you would. You’ve been an Avenger since before they had the name for it, so if anyone deserves the semi-retirement, Sam concedes, it’s gotta be you. He won’t pretend it won’t be a big hit when you choose to walk away completely, though. Whether that’s to the business or Sam’s life, well. That’s another conversation.

He misses you. It’s hardly a crime.

“And they’ve still got us doing intel like we’re rookies,” you shrug, lessening your significance anyway. As if you weren’t up there in the cosmos chasing after freaking Thanos, but Sam won’t argue with you about this. You already spend so little time together to waste it building conflicts between you.

“Please,” Sam’s a professional, so he doesn’t make a bitchface and say girl with disbelief coating his tone, but judging from the amusement that glints in your eyes, you read through the lines with ease. “Like we’d let the children anywhere near this.”

“Okay, Dad,” you snort. “How are Torres and Barnes anyway?”

“The kid and his grandpa are fine,” he goes for annoyed but his grin is boyish and unrestrained. “Jealous they weren’t authorized to drop by. This is practically a vacation, you know.”

You shake your head, but all in good fun. “If your bosses have you thinking that then you desperately need some real downtime.”

“This is as close as it gets, these days.”

Torres had flown him all the way to Switzerland just so Sam could go and spend a few weeks in a rustic, semi-abandoned town on the outskirts of the city where an old SHIELD safehouse still stood against all odds.

Why he had to go to the other side of the world for some intel, he asked and got no answer. Now it comes to mind how he has no idea where you– his contact– have been stationed lately nor what kind of work you’ve been pulling for whoever it is you answer to these days.

You don’t tell him about it, and he’s quit on trying to ask. Whether it’s because you don’t think he’ll approve of what you’re doing or because it’s strictly classified, Sam doesn’t know.

“Blink twice if they’re holding you hostage,” you say in all seriousness, and he peels his eyes at you without blinking, getting close to your face. You laugh, pushing him away. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re one with the nation. Let me show you these files and see what Mr. America makes of ‘em.”

The physical files you actually bring with you are minimal, and most of the data you’ve been ordered to skim through is kept in a USB you hand to Sam as soon as the coffee has kicked in. Neither of you are exactly sure what it is you’re looking for so you’re stuck in the studio of the tiny, look-at-me-wrong-and-I’ll-crumble safe house for over three whole days before you finally start gathering some worthy intel.

“I was told we’d known when we found it,” you shrug, not visibly bothered by the fact that you’ve most likely been sent on a wild goose chase. “Or if we didn’t. We might go back empty-handed after all.”

It’s not encouraging but it’s what you’ve got, even if Sam isn’t sure he’s able to be out of commission for that long. He’s realized people get antsy when Captain America isn’t seen somewhere in the world after a few days, but despite how hard he tries he’s not able to be in two places at once.

“Yet,” he tells you when you take a food break and you allow him to rant about these troubles. “Haven’t figured it out yet, but Steve kind of managed it after a few years, right?”

“Steve was superhuman,” you remind him helpfully behind your coffee cup. You’d found some old whiskey at the back of a cabinet and doused your drink with it, so you make a face when it goes down.

“You don’t think I’m super?”

“I think you’re something, alright.”

“Aw. That was almost a compliment.”

“Can’t let it get to your head, hotshot. Ego’s already too big for your body.”

It’s so fucking domestic Sam feels the ache of it in his teeth. You, sitting at the table in your tiny kitchen while he sits on the counter, each drinking your coffee how you like it as the sun sets through the window above the sink. Talking for hours until you realize you’re practically sitting in the dark as the afternoon flew by while you were taken with each other’s company.

But then you go back to looking at intel until your eyes are burning and you excuse yourself to pass out on the couch. You do it almost half an hour to the dot before Sam gives up himself, and he’s pretty sure you know enough of his tells to know when he’s getting tired and make an early escape so he doesn’t take the couch himself.

“You take the bed,” he’d offered the first night, having a little trouble not making it sound like an order. By how you’d raised your eyebrow, he’d failed by a mile. “God knows where you’re sleeping these days. It’s the least I can do after dragging you all the way out here.”

“You’re the one who keeps saying he’s on vacation,” you take your bags from his hands and drop them unceremoniously on the coffee table, marking the living room territory as yours. “And I’m sure the US government will kill me if I bring you back with a fucked up back.”

He almost suggested you could share. You have before, both out of necessity and leisure, but Sam’s sure that topic’s on the list of Things Not To Talk To You About. It might be the first one up there, in all caps and underlined with bright red.

Sam has both held you down to fuck your brains out and held your bleeding body in his hands, pressing against a gunshot wound to keep blood flow to a minimum. It’s a fucked up type of intimacy he doesn’t share with anyone else, but he’s still hesitant to bring it up. Somehow both events keep happening whether he intends for them or not.

It’s like he’s waiting for the shoe to drop, and it finally does on the fifth day of your assignment.

You ultimately get a lead from the USB. It guides you to search for a random code you insist it’s on a file you’d read through already. You make a noise of victory under your breath when you spot it across the table and when you shift to reach for it, your breath hitches.

It’s a quiet thing Sam wouldn’t be able to acknowledge if he weren’t good at his job, but he is.

“What is it?” he asks, suddenly alert, fingers twitching with the urge to hover over you worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. Whatever shadow of hesitance had fallen over you is pulled back into place, tucked away for Sam to blissfully ignore.

You both know that shit won’t fly, but Sam thinks it’s cute you try anyway.

He stares at you and you avoid his eye long enough, face buried in the file, to know you know he’s noticed. It’s a silent request to let it pass.

Tough fucking luck. Sam calls your name, admonishing.

“Sam,” you say right back at him in the same tone, still not looking at him. Sam grinds his teeth in annoyance, jaw tight.

“Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine. You know how it is.”

It’s not a no.

“I do know,” Sam agrees, but his mood’s a short fuse. “Are you grounded? Is that why you’re here? Because you’re hurt?”

Fucking jackpot. You exhale through your nose and tighten your jaw at the question but refuse to answer. You’re a couple of feet apart, divided by the desk filled with files and information, but somehow this is the closest he’s felt to you since you got here.

You’d been hiding something since the beginning; taking the couch when you could’ve been sharing the bed from the start, touching him less than usual so things wouldn’t go further, and moving around the house with rigid, calculated movements.

“Manning the desk,” he says with a little too much bite, and he can physically watch your hackles rise; the annoyance in your eyes when they finally meet his, the biting of your cheek to stop yourself from rising to his sudden passive-aggressive hostility. “Handing me files, giving me intel. You’re flying halfway across the world to keep yourself out of the field.”

“Sam,” you say through gritted teeth.

“You’re hurt,” he replies, not a question, nodding at your torso. It’s all suddenly painstakingly clear, the past week flashing through his mind like a movie from a different point of view. “And you’re hiding it from me, for some reason.”

“Is that all, Captain?” you ask, creating distance with the use of his new title in a way he despises and you know he does. You’re good at that, finding where it hurts and pressing methodically until the skin gives. Sam’s just not used to the trick being used on him. “Or is there something else about my person that you’ve figured out and have yet to enlighten me about?”

“Let me see,” he ignores you. It's easier than trying to match your level of cruel cleverness. He stands to cross over to your side of the desk, staring down at you expectantly with arms crossed. “Come on, show me.”

“No,” you deadpan, but the way you wrap your arms carefully around yourself shows the defensiveness underneath your nonchalance. “Sam, come on, what the hell are you doing?”

“If you’re not hurt, then show me,” he insists but doesn’t reach to touch you without your permission. It’s a line he won’t cross.

“Is that an order, sir?” you snap.

“I’m not your superior,” he replies, even though he is, technically, but not when you’re alone. Not when you’re hurt. “I’m your friend. And right now my friend is in pain, I’d like to be able to do something about it.”

“Like what?” you ask, and it’s as exhausted as it is conflictive. Thunder rumbles outside the house and inside Sam’s chest, two storms coming in. “Huh, Sam? What are you gonna do? It’s part of the damned job. Don’t tell me you’re injury-free right now.”

Sam isn’t. Both old and newer scars put a heaviness on his body he’s not supposed to carry, but he’s not the one hiding right now.

“I can hold you,” he offers and watches the way you look away, imagining the sting in your eyes as they glisten with sudden tears. You very visibly refuse to shed them, tightening your jaw and passing saliva like it’s gravel. “If you’d let me. Let’s not pretend we haven’t done it before.”

“It’s different now.”

“Why?” he wonders, brow furrowing. He does his best to relax his stance and reaches to touch your tight fists where they lay on your lap. With his fingertips barely there on your skin, the tension bleeds out of them like magic almost against your will. “Because I’m Captain America? Because you won’t tell me where you’re stationed half the time?”

“It’s–”

“Classified,” he finishes for you, unmoved. “But you’re still you, and I’m still me. As far as I’m aware, that doesn’t change a damned thing.”

You close your eyes like the words pain you, resolve crumbling right before Sam’s eyes. “I don’t wanna fight with you.”

“Then don’t,” from Sam’s perspective, it’s as simple as that. “Let me see. Let me be with you, please. The last week has been torture.”

You let out a breath of a laugh that’s a little too miserable. “You’re telling me,” you say, and the slope of your shoulders falls from its tense, defensive curve. Sam takes it as the green light it is.

You stand straighter as he kneels in front of you, his hands hovering over the hem of your shirt. He looks to you for permission and you give him a tight nod, staring at the wall instead of him, gulping down your anxieties.

Sam’s breath catches when he lifts your shirt and sees your torso, skin showered in black, blue, purple, and green bruises. “Jesus.”

“It’s worse than it looks,” you say automatically. Sam can’t see how that’s true. It looks like it hurts to even breathe, it’s unbelievable how you were able to hide it from him for so long. “Nothing’s broken, I swear.”

“What the hell happened?” he asks even if he knows you can’t– or won’t– answer. You sigh, and he watches blemished skin shake with the effort it takes.

“I’m alright,” you say instead of the answer he wants, but your voice has softened and lost all fight response. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve been with him since you arrived and it has nothing to do with showing your skin. “Hey, I’m okay. That assignment’s over for good. I’m not going back there, I promise.”

The sigh of relief Sam lets out is shaky and doesn’t relinquish all the tension he’s been carrying. The possibilities of what must’ve happened are gonna haunt him long after this mission’s over.

“I hate it,” he says, and he knows you know what he means. Not knowing where you are, spending more than half the year apart with zero contact, this unease between you that doesn’t let you be honest.

You say, tired. “I know. Sam–”

Sam isn’t touching you– not yet. He’s careful so there’s no skin-to-skin contact, and you look at him with guarded eyes when he lowers your shirt back into place, standing up and towering over you.

“What?”

You breathe air out of your nose, frustrated. “You know.”

A beat. “You sure?” he says, as plainly as he can with the tension that’s grown between you pulling him forward.

“Yes.”

He hums.

“Oh. You gonna let me touch you now, then?” he asks, still under the excuse of medical purposes only. But Sam can’t help the way his voice deepens, molten like honey. His eyes trail over skin that isn’t blemished: the curve of your neck, the lines of your arms, the slope of your fingers.

You shiver under the attention, helpless to hide such a reaction to his voice. “Mmm? Honey?”

“Fuck you,” you say automatically, already opening your legs slightly for Sam to slip in between them, reaching for your jaw. You close your eyes at the touch, sighing away whatever tension remained in you.

You’re too fucking easy, despite the fight you insisted on going through before letting yourself be touched, and something in Sam’s belly tightens at the idea of it being just for him.

Sam’s hands remain on your jaw and throat as he tilts your head up for a kiss, slow and deep, lingering. It’s not long before you open up for him, his tongue sliding into your mouth like it was always meant to be there, coaxing a whine from you while you search for steadiness and settle your hands on his belt. Not pulling, not searching for more– not yet– but keeping him close.

The storm comes and goes and the files in the studio remain forgotten. Sam finally gets you on the bed and, better yet, with him in it.

He’s a little too careful, hands cupping your ribs with extreme caution after finally getting rid of your shirt for good and laying you down against the sheets. You roll your eyes fondly and grab onto his wrists to direct him where you want him.

He doesn’t complain as he takes your directions. The man will greedily take anything you give him in calloused, expert hands as he does his best to pull sounds out of you that are music to his ears.

After it’s over, you both lay in bed, naked and breathless. You find a new scar on him and trace the ragged line of skin gently with your fingertip, touch featherlight, almost nonexistent. It’s been over half a year since you last did this, but only a couple of months since he got himself injured and stitched up by Bucky in the Brazilian jungle. “This one’s new.”

It had been a quick job, good enough considering the circumstances, which is to say Sam now has an ugly, uneven scar a couple of inches above his hipbone that saved him from bleeding out on his partner.

The memory holds no gentleness, but your fingers do. The haze of his previous orgasm leaves Sam pliant under your touch, melted against the sheets and uncaring of your scrutiny. “Barnes?”

Sam makes an affirmative noise, a valid enough question since sometimes he’s admitted to doing patchwork on himself for the sake of the mission, uncaring of how bad it hurts as long as it’s quick and efficient.

“Did it hurt?”

“Like hell,” he admits, feeling safe enough to do so in the cocoon you’ve built for yourselves. Sam runs a hand up and down your naked back as if trying to soothe the brunt of the memory. “Did the job, though. Got us out alive.”

At that, you lean to kiss the skin, only slipping a bit of tongue into it. Sam sighs, ignoring the prick of discomfort that’s trying to crawl up his spine and leaning towards the softer, more tender sentiment that takes over him whenever you get like this. It’s not easy for him to accept such gentleness, to let himself be cared for and lay there, unable to give something back.

He will, in a minute. But he knows you like him like this, and that alone pins him down in his place to let you work. It’d be hypocritical of him, he thinks as his hips twitch with renowned interest, to not let you fret after him when his own worry is what got you here in the first place.

After you’re satisfied, you trail the path Sam’s grown accustomed to, the very same you follow every time you sleep together after a terribly long amount of time:

The knife scar under his pec from when they were chasing after Bucky, still the Winter Solider, superficial enough not to have caused concern at the time. The mark from when he got his appendix out, thinking nothing of the stabbing aches to his belly until he was doubling over in his bed and waking up half his platoon as he retched in the bathroom.

The dot on his finger where Riley accidentally stabbed him with a pencil once, sleep deprived and with two shots of whiskey on him. The wound had healed with ease but the mark made a permanent home on his skin, barely visible unless you leaned in close enough to look for it.

The scab on his knee from falling off his bike when he was six. Sarah had screeched bloody murder until their parents came out of the house to see what all the fuss was about. The scar left behind by a bullet on his right shoulder during his second tour in Afghanistan.

The cut on his lip he got shaving for the first time is always last on your list. Sam has long stopped calling you out on it, how convenient it was that the cataloging of his scars always ended with a thorough, slow kiss to his mouth that usually bloomed into a second round.

He found that you got skittish when he did so, pulling back into yourself and laying tensely in bed for a couple more minutes before you started looking around for your clothes, called out.

Now Sam only cups your jaw, tugs a little so it opens your mouth and he can slip in his tongue and steal a taste of your sigh. He wants you like this for as long as possible; vulnerable, unguarded, desperate to touch him and be touched back. Safe enough to know that you never have to ask for something he wants to give you so willingly.

You always forget. The second you meet again, you have to start the whole dance over. Fish for excuses to meet each other in the middle, hoping for new scars to lengthen your time together.

Sam isn’t a masochist by any means, and he’s not an adrenaline junkie asshat who chases the danger just to have proof on his skin that he can take all the grievances life throws at him.

But. But–

“We’re alright,” you say against his mouth, body warm and seeking on top of his. He’s mindful of your injuries but can’t help himself, the urge to touch you overrules any other instinct he owns. It makes him weak, on the field, but happy off of it. “Aren’t we? We’re gonna be alright.”

“‘Course we are, honey,” his southern charm pops out and you’re both parts equally pleased and unamused, a funny expression on your face that has him laughing as he cups the back of your neck to bring you in for another kiss. “What? What’s with the face?”

“Nothin’, pumpkin,” you imitate his accent and Sam focuses his ministrations on your jaw and neck, trying to get you to break character. “We’re gonna be just fine, sugar plum. You’re sure lookin’ very pretty tonight, peach fuzz.”

Sam splutters out a laugh. “Peach fuzz?”

“That’s what you sound like!”

“See if I ever call you something nice ever again.”

“You can’t resist me,” you say seriously, though a smile keeps trying to break your facade. “You literally lasted five days before taking me to bed. That’s on being weak, Wilson.”

“Some might say it’s a world record for me, baby,” he says, poking at your face until you show teeth, happy and at ease in his arms. “The six months before that were a little bit of a stretch, too.”

Your mood dampens a little but Sam won’t let it, nudging his nose against yours to catch your attention again. “Hey. What did I just say? We’re gonna be alright. Five days, six months, five years, it’s nothing. They mean shit when I get to see you again.”

The mention of the Snap unguards you further. He’d been gone while you tried to keep your life together, ignoring the Sam-shaped void in your surroundings. The first time you got together after he came back had been tainted by the grief of losing three of the best people you’d ever known, and he’d done his own reconnaissance of your skin as he took in new scars, new hurts that had happened and healed while he was gone.

You smile again, but it’s softer, fonder, a tender tilt of the lips for the man you managed to find in this chaotic line of work that became your whole life.

In another five days, you’ll once more be on opposite ends of the world without any idea of when you’ll see each other again or what new marks you’ll have on your skin that describe your time apart. You haven’t even put a name to this– this relationship that both of you are still too hesitant to define as such, but that’s okay.

It’s okay. It’s more than enough. The path of scars will be there to take when you meet again, permanent proof that you’ve survived to find the way to each other over and over and over again. The map that leads to you, every goddamn time.

___

hi!!!

hope you like this one! i’ve been putting this fic on the back burner for almost a month now, but i’m so glad to finally have finished it! i hope to put out the tommy miller sequel for dial drunk next week before school starts :)

thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, commenting, etc.!

#sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #anthony mackie #marvel fanfic #reader insert #captain america x reader #captain america and the winter soldier #catws #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #joaquin torres #danny ramirez #falcon x reader #leo writes #sarah wilson #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

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misslavenderlady · 2 years

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The Lost Boys Former Lives - David 🖤

Others: Marko, Dwayne, Paul

TW: Child abuse, neglect, depression, illness, runaway, smoking, fatal injury, death

The leader of our Lost Boys and the first of Max's "family".

This is what David's life was when he was human.....

Born in 1885 as the only child of wheat farmers, David was brought into an impoverished and struggling world. In his early childhood, his parents faced a decline in the quality and production of the wheat they desperately tried to make. They had to downgrade significantly and could barely afford to feed themselves, let alone their son.

David had so little in his life. Nothing but his imagination to play with, a cold, gray house to call home and no friends to make due to where they lived. Life was so dull and when his parents grew angry with the struggles they faced, it also became hurtful.

His parents used their words as weapons, telling him what a burden he was on them as another mouth they had to feed. That him being alive was a mistake. Not once did he ever feel any sliver of love from his parents. He felt like a stranger in his own home.

So David took care of himself. He stayed out of their way, finding time in the early morning to travel long distances by foot to attend school. It was his saving grace, and he actually thrived when he learned how to read and write. It made him feel confident for once.

He longed to travel to new places and see the exciting things life had to offer. He could never tell his parents about his wishes, as they only saw him as potential labor for them as he got older. They would never understand. So whenever he borrowed books from the schoolhouse he went to, they were always hidden in various spots of his room. He even preferred to stay up late into the night and read his stories.

His love for the night followed him into his second life.

The older David got, the more he feared what kind of life awaited him. His parents already put him through back-breaking labor, as they had no other children or workers to help out with their duties. Every day, he was exhausted and struggling with pain. He didn’t want to die knowing he never truly got to live as he wanted. So when he was 17, he ran away from home, stealing one of the horses to sneak off into the night.

It wasn’t an easy journey, but with time and patience, David made it to the city of San Francisco in 1902. Never before had he seen anything so incredible before. It was bustling and exciting, full of shops, restaurants, entertainment, and people from far and wide. For the first time, he had a sense of hope for his future. A reason to keep going. He’d never been happier in his entire life.

David still struggled to care for himself. He lived on the streets most of the time and did a series of odd jobs where he could find them. Still, he never regretted his decision. Seeing the flashy sights of the city kept him motivated.

When he found honest work wasn’t enough, he turned to more devious ways of earning money. He became a natural pick-pocket, robbing wealthy travelers and socialites blind. The more he stole, the less he felt bad about it. After struggling to keep warm and be fed all his life, why should continue to suffer while others got to spoil themselves?

Though he thought he'd be better on his own, David found himself struggling with the loneliness that came with his new life. He yearned for someone to talk to. A companion, a friend, a lover. Anything. Every day, he wished to have someone by his side.

In late 1905, David made his way from San Francisco to Santa Carla. It was even more exciting than the previous city. There were lavish hotels and resorts that filled the city and brought in more wealthy travelers. More suckers to rob blind.

In his downtime, David loved the beach most. The sound of the waves crashing onto the sand soothed him. It felt good to be somewhere so colorful, warm, and lively, unlike the home he grew up in.

One night, he got curious and found himself in front of the Atlantis Hotel, the finest resort in all of Santa Carla. It was New Year's Eve, and he had quite a bit of cash to spend from his dirty work for the day. He had been careful about spending his money on only necessities, but for the first time, David decided to treat himself. He snuck in amongst the crowd, enjoying fine wines and treats while listening to music. He’d never felt so alive until then, finally experiencing the joys of life as he always wanted.

However, his festivities came to a halt when he was cornered by the proprietor of the establishment— Max Lawrence.

David denies this claim, but he was terrified of Max when they first met. The man was so tall and intimidating with his calm, collected personality, even when he was angry. Not to mention, when he grabbed David’s arm to get his attention, he found the man’s touch to be incredibly icy. He could feel the chill in his bones.

To his surprise, Max didn’t want trouble. He wanted to ask questions. It started off with the simple ‘why are you in my hotel when you’re not a guest?’ and ‘where did a poor-looking boy like you get that kind of money?’. David was purposely vague in his answers, not wanting to fess up to a total stranger.

But then Max started digging a little deeper. He wanted to know where David had come from and what kind of life he was running from. If he had a family that cared for him. The strangest question of all was whether David would want to live forever if given the chance.

He was thoroughly creeped out and tried to leave. The only thing that stopped him was Max’s offer to give him a room to stay in, free of charge, for as long as David desired. It certainly intrigued him, as it would be the first time in years he wouldn’t have to sleep in the gutter or in local poorhouses.

The catch? Max wanted to be an official caretaker for him.

Confused and skeptical, David asked for time to think about it. Max allowed that, giving David the key to his room. Before leaving, Max told David he could be found during the night hours. It was all so baffling, but with the desire to enjoy a bed and a warm room, David decided not to question it.

He did his best to avoid Max for a while. Something about the proprietor thoroughly creeped him out. Since Max was only busy at night, David woke up early in the morning and turned in fairly soon into the night to avoid any confrontation. The times he did bump into Max, he feared the man would demand he take on the offer. Instead, Max just asked if David had eaten or if he needed anything.

A few months went by, and David grew nervous. Max always seemed to be lurking, waiting in the shadows to strike. David sought refuge in the Resort’s library. He spent days and days lounging in the sofas and reading any book he wanted. He learned more about other countries, history, art, culture, languages, fashion, absolutely everything, and anything.

Despite living in Santa Carla, he still had the desire to see more of the world. There was so much to see and do, and he wanted to witness it all while he was still young and healthy.

And then it happened. April of 1906. The Great San Francisco Earthquake.

The ground on the Bluff split open from the force of the earthquake, creating a crack so massive, the Atlantis Hotel fell in, taking down all of its guests deep into the caves and sea below. David was one of them. He survived but was impaled through the chest on an iron spike from the infrastructure of the hotel. He was paralyzed with shock, too scared to move and make it worse, and too weak to scream for help. For hours, he was stuck like that, slowly dying with no sign of hope.

When the sun went down, a figure stepped through the rubble of the fallen resort. Even in his injured state, David could see that it was Max. Unscathed and surprisingly unbothered by the ruins of his beloved hotel. He simply called it “a bother”.

David used his dwindling strength to plead for help. Whether it was for Max to save his life or put him out of his misery, he wasn’t certain. Max had a smile on his face as he made his offer again.

“Would you like to live forever, David? Thrive and enjoy life while surviving terrible things like this? All you have to do is say ‘yes’, and I’ll help make that dream come true”

Of course, David said yes. Moments before he could take his final breath, Max forced a bottle of liquid down David’s throat. It was the last thing he remembered before blacking out.

While the rest of California was suffering the disaster, Max had freed David from the spike and had taken him away to recover in a neighboring state. For days, David’s body recovered from the injury. He was half-conscious the entire time, only remembering Max pushing him around in a wheelchair and feeding him sips of the same drink from the bottle. It was absolute hell, and each time he closed his eyes, David feared he wouldn’t wake up.

One night, when David was nearing the end of his recovery, Max sat him down, finally explaining himself. He was actually a vampire. One who had been alive for over a century. He had spent decades building up a status of wealth and success, thriving in every place he went. But the years of loneliness were catching up to him, and Max admitted he longed for a son. He explained that with David being estranged from his family, he could be like a father to him, taking him along to see the world and make the most of it all while humans suffered around them.

All David had to do was make his first kill and complete the transformation he hadn’t realized he had started.

It was all so much for him to take in. He was surprised by how grateful he was to Max for such a thing. After all, he would have died the day the Earthquake hit. His life would have been over before it even began. He would never have to know pain again. No sickness, no struggle, no death.

So when he was ready, Max took him back to the site where it all happened. David was nearly finished healing thanks to the power of Max’s blood. They traveled through the wreckage, searching for a sign of life. A survivor was found in the ruins of a cave, barely clinging to life. To this day, David doesn’t know who that person was. All he knows is that he fed on them, which ended their suffering and completed his transformation all in one go.

David was reborn that night. He was permanently made a vampire, and Max was incredibly proud. Finally, he had the son he wanted, and David was ready to live life to the fullest. He held a deep sense of gratitude to his Sire, promising to be devoted, no matter where they went. David still doesn’t see Max as his father, as the previous father figure he had was a terrible one, but he holds a sense of respect for him.

From then on, he would get to experience the world how he truly wanted to.

Additional Facts:

David was born with brown hair. When he ran away from home, he used hydrogen peroxide to make it blond. He saw it as a form of changing who he was for his fresh start. When he became a vampire, the color change was permanent. He secretly enjoys it when people say he looks undead with it. They’re technically correct.

He can’t remember his parents’ names or faces. One of the effects of vampirism is the memory loss of human life. What he does recall is the suffering he went through, and that’s enough to make him not regret his choice.

He actually goes by his middle name. David is a junior, as his first name was his father’s name. When he ran away was when he started going by “David”. He can’t remember what his first and last names were.

For several years, David's parents thought he was mute because he spoke so little. He just didn't have anything to say, nor did he want to speak to them. He was much more talkative in school.

One of his favorite activities was horseback riding. He loved the wind on his face and the rush of going fast. When he got his first motorcycle years into his vampire life, he felt the same rush, choosing it as his go-to transportation when he’s not flying.

Speaking of motorcycles, the Triumph motorcycle was invented the same year he was born. Technically, he's as old as the bike he rides.

His favorite power is hallucinations. He has excellent control over it, creating physical sensations along with visual changes. The others have called him a magician for how good he is.

Max gave him a cigar on New Year's Eve when they met. It was the first time he ever smoked, and he’s been hooked on it ever since. It makes him feel mature and distinguished.

In life, David constantly had a bad cough. His parents never took care of him, just telling him to "knock it off". He actually had asthma, which went untreated. It was cured when he became a full vampire, and he's grateful to have strong lungs again so he can smoke without issue.

The reason why he screamed “no” when Michael shoved him onto the antlers was that it brought back the trauma of the first time he “died”.

David loves causing mischief whenever he can because he knows there are no consequences to his actions. Max thinks it has spoiled him a bit.

David is secretly a hopeless romantic. Whenever he read stories about romance, he longed for someone to love him so passionately. He never had a crush as a child and he never saw his parents display affection toward one another. The first time he saw a couple kissing in public, he was astounded. Overcome with a sense of longing like never before. He promised himself that if he ever fell in love, he'd never stop showing his partner adoration and attention.

When Max first brought him to Europe, David took a variety of dance lessons. He's surprisingly graceful (thanks to the flying ability he has), and his favorite style is the Viennese waltz. At some point, he's danced with all three of the boys.

Although he is a delinquent, David actually likes it when he comes off as someone who is well-spoken or dignified. He really valued his education in life and enjoyed showing off what he knew. Though he talks very casually with slang, sometimes he’ll slip more into a mature style of speech. The others describe it as “poetic”

He has little patience for people he deems to be rude. He had enough of that in life, and now, with his power as an undead vampire, he quickly gets rid of the cruel, snobby, and obnoxious people he comes across.

In life, David’s favorite food was lobster. When he got to San Francisco, he loved getting it straight from the ocean.

Max offered to get him a hellhound for protection, but David insists he can take care of himself. The feeling got stronger for his boys, as he wants to prove he can protect them on his own.

The wheelchair Max gave him during his recovery is the same one we see in the hideout. David left it there the night he completed his transformation. When they returned to Santa Carla after decades of travel, he immediately went to find it. In a strange way, it brings him some comfort to sit in it.

He will usually only hunt people who cause problems for him first. He and his boys are like bees, they won’t attack unless you attack them first.

He met Marko in 1920, Dwayne in 1937, and Paul in 1960

David has a very warped view of what love is because of his past and how things are with Max. Despite their differences, he has always been thankful for Max giving him the gift of immortality, and in David’s mind, that’s the biggest form of love you can offer someone. If he offers it to you, that means he loves you. When Star and Michael try to go back to humanity, it breaks his heart because he sees it as them denying his love for them.

#the lost boys #david the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys headcanon #lavender headcanons

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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 2 months

Text

Danger Force Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 1

Episode 9: Mika In The Middle

Season 1 Masterlist

Click for vibes

Word count : 20k (eek)

~The Man's Nest~

To say Ray was furious was an understatement.

Ray was unstoppable. No matter how hard (y/n) and Schwoz tried to calm him, he was like a volcano ready to erupt, muttering and grumbling under his breath because of a minuscule incident.

Well, maybe not minuscule, not when he had happily snuggled with his sweet girl in their bedroom. Everything was right in the world; no crimes were being committed, nothing was in danger, and for once, the couple could enjoy a quiet night in. Or at least, they were until a little news report came in.

He leapt from the bed, ignoring his wife and the TV playing in the background, in favour of running from the room, leaving (y/n) speechless and confused. Sure, she knew it meant a great deal to him, but did he have to stop rubbing her feet?

"Sweet cheese, doofus, will you just calm down?" The woman asked her husband as she chased after him through the halls, barely keeping up with his long strides.

Ray wouldn't stop for anybody or anything, not even when the fuzzy-haired genius tagged along from out of nowhere - curious about the noise. He nearly mowed Schwoz down, knocking his little body over like a bowling pin, not that he cared. All he wanted was to get to the main Man's Nest room as fast as possible, with his downtime with his pretty girl a long-forgotten memory.

"I won't calm down, sweet girl," answered the hero, giving her a sharp glare, although it was more directed at his newfound problem than anything she'd done. If anything, he appreciated how she chased after him, practically jogging to keep up as her little hands clutched his meaty bicep like an anchor.

"You saw what happened, and I can bet who did it!"

"You don't know for sure, though!" Argued Schwoz, skipping along as they reached the tube pad. They stepped on it, waiting to be sucked upward, but the sudden blast-off didn't spare the genius from a scathing look.

"I don't care," said Ray, a deep frown etched into his handsome features, which made his darling wife pout, given how content they were not ten minutes ago. "When I find out what happened, Schwoz, I swear to God, I'm gonna take that weapon you tell me never to touch, and I'm gonna--"

"You will do no such thing, Raymond!" (y/n) exclaimed, tugging on his doofy arm to try and get the man-child to chill out, but it was useless. "Just take some deep breaths!"

He was lucky he was so handsome in that brightly patterned shirt, and she winced when he yelled over her. Taking a deep breath, Ray threw back his head and bellowed, practically shaking the earth with his screeches as his friends covered their ears.

"Danger Force! ASSEMBLE!!" One deafening roar later, the four awkward-looking children hovered around Ray. Not because they ran to his every call and beckon but because they'd already convened in the room, having suffered a little accident.

"Hi," said Chapa innocently, spooking her boss since he didn't notice their presence.

She, Bose, and Miles stood huddled in the corner near the lockers, looking like the perfect picture of innocence. On the other hand, Mika was alone by the doors, practically shaking in her sneakers as she avoided eye contact.

"Hey, guys..." (y/n) smiled at them and gave a little wave, much to her doofus' irritation. Firstly, he didn't like the attention she gave them, not when it was his huge, muscly arm she was squeezing, and secondly...he knew what those little miscreants did.

"They don't deserve your pretty smiles, sweet girl..." he growled, clutching his PearPhone and showing it to the expressionless kids with a pointed stare. "I don't suppose any of you know how my Man Truck ended up at the bottom of the Jandy River?!"

It was unfortunate. The woman and Schwoz had to bite their lips to smother their grins when they saw the photo because it hadn't happened to them. It was funny to see that broken, piece-of-garbage rust bucket half submerged in the river. For Ray, though, it was a travesty; the Man Truck was his baby—the first car he ever got, and now, it was ruined.

God knows how he would salvage it--or explain to the cops how it got there, but he knew who did it without a doubt. If only he knew four irresponsible pre-teens who had access to his garage...

"No..."

"Mind your business," Miles and Chapa replied as Bose and Mika stayed silent. The hero didn't buy any of it, knowing they'd lie through their teeth before admitting what they'd done, but he'd find out. He was too angry not to find out.

"Okay... Where have you guys been all day?" He asked, only to receive the same vague answers.

"Church."

"Mind your business."

"I honestly don't know," the kids replied, and they all sounded genuine. To be fair, Miles, Chapa, and Bose were credible liars, meeting the man's eye with no hint of fear or anxiety, while Mika just hoped the ground swallowed her up.

"All right, I'll start with you," said Ray, gesturing to Miles, who had no problem stepping up to the plate first. He looked calm and composed under scrutiny, glancing at (y/n) as she loitered behind her doofus, softly stroking his muscular back. "You went to church, huh?"

"Yep."

"Which one?"

"Went to three." His replies came quickly and coolly, his face so straight and honest that you wouldn't guess he was lying. Miles didn't even flinch, and (y/n) had to hand it to him when her doofus doubled down.

"Little church-hoppin'..."

"Lotta church-hoppin'..."

"You sing?" Asked Ray, looking for details since he surely couldn't pull it out of thin air without thinking about it.

"Couple times."

"Which hymns?"

"Amazing Grace, How Great Thou Art, and a Kanye song," answered Miles, impressing his friends at how speedy he could be. Ray took a moment to ponder his answers, looking as pensively as possible at the kid before relaxing. How could he interrogate past that?

"Okay..." he said before allowing Miles to walk off. Next, he looked at Chapa, unfazed by her signature grumpy frown, as she folded her arms and smiled sarcastically. "How about you?"

"Mind your business," replied the moody girl, and her biting tone was enough to make anyone back off, even the great Captain Man.

"Okay." And just like that, he moved on, not even wanting to attempt to push through that frosty exterior. As Chapa slunk away, Bose gazed cheerfully at his teachers, appearing so densely childlike that it was almost adorable.

"How about you, Dimples? Know anything about my truck being at the bottom of the river?"

"I don't know anything about anything..." said Bose, a hazy film descending on his blueish eyes as he stared off into nothingness - presumably thinking about puppies or rainbows or something.

"Honestly, doof, that checks out," whispered (y/n) as she leaned up to her husband's ear, making him shudder at her proximity.

An arm curled around her waist, keeping her close as the boy ran off with a free-spirited smile. She snuggled up to him, missing the warmth they shared while just channel-surfing in bed, wrapped up in one another.

Still, despite Detective Ray having interrogated his suspects, he frowned and put a hand on his hip, not missing the desperate girl squirming by the front door.

"Well, I believe you all..." he said slowly, his arm still slung around his pretty girl as the kids glanced at him and his weirdly cheery attitude. "And now simply to take my incredibly hot wife and leave the room..."

"Doofus, what are you up to?" (y/n) asked quietly, confused as to why he'd marched them upstairs, interrupting an incredible foot massage on her part, only to leave five minutes later.

Still, the hero kept her walking toward the metal door, merely chuckling in her ear and pressing a kiss to her temple as Danger Force momentarily relaxed.

"Whatever do you mean, sweet girl?" The hero fluttered his eyelashes at her innocently, which (y/n) didn't buy for a minute.

"You know what I mean, Raymond," she replied, nudging his ribs as he only pulled her closer.

"Well, there is one more thing..." But it was long enough for the kids to let their guards down, thinking for a split-second that he'd leave the issue alone, just for him to swiftly turn on his heel - as was his cunning plan all along.

"Mika!" Exclaimed Ray, whipping around to stare at the girl, who'd quietly kept herself beside the door. His suspecting stare made the poor girl want to disappear into the wall, pressing herself into the cool stone as the man-child crept closer.

"I don't suppose you know anything about how my truck ended up at the bottom of the river, do you?"

Mika said nothing, holding her nerve as her friend willed her to shut her mouth. She closed her eyes tightly, praying Ray would go away. Still, the doofus persisted, squatting onto her level and peering into her nervous face, even as his darling wife rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Ray..."

"Mika?" He said, not hearing the heroine as she put her hands on her hips in exasperation. "I love that truck...nearly as much as I love (y/n)--much more than I love Schwoz!"

"Ouch!" Said the genius, looking up from his soldering to pout at the hero, who broke his heart without even knowing it. But that was the adorable idiot all over.

"And now, it's all wet!" The girl glanced at the PearPhone in Ray's hand, her resolve slipping when she saw the news photo showing the half-submerged truck.

She couldn't help but feel an overwhelming guilt, keenly aware that lying was not the right thing. But when she looked at the others... Chapa mouthed 'don't' and shook her head, Miles and Bose appearing equally tense, as Mika bit her lip, trying to bottle everything up until she just couldn't.

"It was us!" Shouted the girl. She tried but caved, much to her friends' frustration and anger.

"Oh, come on!"

"I knew it!" Ray sneered as he glared at the troubled girl, who paced back and forth from the steps as the truth poured out of her like a waterfall.

"Mika..." said (y/n), shaking her head at not just her but the other kids. She was disappointed, not because of the truck; as far as she was concerned, that thing could sink, and she wouldn't miss it, but because they straight-up lied. And what was the point if she wasn't going to at least make it believable?

"How on earth did you ditch the truck in the Jandy River?"

"Okay, so you know how fast food always tastes better in a car?" Asked the girl with a slight sniffle, utterly distraught after being caught.

"Of course," answered Ray as he came down the few steps to join his wife, grabbing her by the hip and pulling her close.

"So, we ordered some Nacho Ball from the close one, not the nice one, and we brought it back, but it didn't taste right," explained Mika, who slowly descended into a mad rant as she spilt the truth.

"So, we decided to teleport inside the Man Truck, but it still didn't taste right, so we blasted some music, and that seemed to do the trick."

"Good call," muttered Ray as he thoughtfully patted his wife's butt, absorbing the lurid tale. They glanced at each other, with (y/n) resting her head against her husband's shoulder as she wondered where Mika was going with this.

"And the food was so good, and then this song, Proud Mary, came on..."

"A classic," noted (y/n) with a slight shrug.

"The song talks about rolling on a river, and then, we looked up who Tina Turner is, and we found out she moved to France and passed away recently, and then, Miles said, NO!, and we all teleported into the river!"

She finished by thrusting her arm into the air - just like her brother did to activate his superpower - and it all became clear. Mika looked defeated as she panted after her rambling speech, not wanting to look at the others since they were undoubtedly glaring - and Ray as bad enough.

"Well, I am very disappointed..." he said solemnly, placing his hands on his trim waist as Miles groaned. The kids braced themselves for a telling-off, only...it never came.

"...in Mika."

"What?!" The girl gasped as Miles, Chapa, and Bose grinned, celebrating because, shockingly, they weren't in trouble. On the other hand, she was furious--at least hoping her honesty would lessen the punishment.

"I told you the truth!"

"True, you did, which is a good thing." (y/n) nodded, looking at the hulking man beside her with a perplexed expression. "What gives, doof?"

"She also snitched, sweet girl, and that's bad," replied Ray, giving his young sidekick a telling stare as if his reasoning was sane or fair.

"That makes no sense!" Said Mika, who glanced at the woman he kept close by his side, hoping she could help her case. She didn't mind the punishment, but it could be doled out equally. "(y/n), please, tell him!"

"Well, technically, lying is an essential part of being a superhero," said the woman sheepishly, wringing her hands together and twisting the rings on her fingers while trying to placate her upset protégé.

"We lie to protect who we are and what we do."

"Exactly. That's why half the moms in this town think Ray Manchester is a fighter pilot," said Ray in a dramatic voice, smirking as if he was proud of himself, but it just made his pretty girl roll her eyes and pout.

"That just sounds like lying to impress women," answered Miles, who gave his friend a sympathetic smile, not that (y/n) let it bother her too much.

She elbowed her doofus and smiled sweetly, knowing deep down that he wouldn't dare date anyone else - not that Ray really wanted to.

"Eh..." The heroine shrugged, giggling at Ray's gulp when he recognised that look. As if he could ever hurt someone so lovely... "They're not so impressed when I tell them he flies for the Swellview Kite Fighting Society."

"Sweet girl..." Ray pouted, having wondered why so many women gave him stares like he was a weirdo - but apparently, they thought he was. Still, he didn't care when he got to call her his beloved wife, who knew he was much more than a stupid fighter pilot.

"We need to be able to trust that you can lie," said (y/n), bringing their main point back, which only made Mika moan and hunch over like she had a tummy ache.

"Give her a letter!" Exclaimed Chapa - perhaps a little too excitedly since her friend was in trouble, but she'd always been a little sadistic.

"No!"

"To the Snitch Board!" Ray declared, clapping his hands as the kids - all except Mika - cheered.

It was one of his sillier ideas, born with the theory that it would motivate the children to hone their lying abilities, but Mika couldn't. She was too morally pure, with the need to be honest built into her DNA, so she had a vast disadvantage compared to Chapa. That girl told lies so filthy, black, and dark that she was on par with a politician.

"Way ahead of you," said Schwoz from his little workstation as he pressed a button on his remote control. He activated the holographic screen, showing the Snitch Board, as Ray named it.

It showed Miles and Chapa safely in the lead, whilst Bose was slightly behind, with one S out of six letters, which wasn't bad. Mika was sinking, having accumulated four letters already, spelling S-N-I-T on the screen, so it was only a matter of time before her line was complete.

"Why do we even do this, doofus?" Asked (y/n) with a small sigh as she observed the board, although judging by the excitement in the man's movements, she already knew the answer.

"'Cause it's fun, sweet girl! Watch!" Replied Ray, rubbing his hands together wickedly as he turned to Mika, almost evilly loving her disgruntled pout. "According to this, you've snitched one, two, three, four times already!"

"The ketchup stain I made on the couch..." said Miles, recounting how his sister couldn't wait to tell (y/n/n) about the mishap - a scourge on her beautifully clean furniture. And nothing the girl said would fix that broken trust.

"But--"

"The raccoon fight club I was running in the basement!" Added Chapa, her soulless glare telling of her inner fury more than anything else. And she was making so much money with that fight club.

"That was horrible!"

"Yeah, but, in fairness, Mika... The first rule about fight club is you don't talk about fight club," said (y/n), who tried to hide her smile because it wasn't helping the girl's case, especially when the snitching incidents kept coming.

"That I import illegal hair products from China to maintain my luscious locks."

"And I do the same thing," said Ray, agreeing with Bose that their hair was beautiful—so fluffy and shiny. However, with the doofus, it was more about staying young, fit, and fabulous, while with the kid, it was just his routine.

"Those were both literally crimes!" Mika argued with a disbelieving scoff, hating how everyone seemed to gang up on her when she was just a sweet, truth-telling girl. Still, none of those qualities would protect her from a would-be villain, which spurred Ray into action, even if he loved it anyway.

"Mika!" He exclaimed, but not before turning to his beloved wife with a slight, puzzled frown. "Last name..."

"Macklin, you big doofus..." answered (y/n), who rolled her eyes at how he didn't remember - months into knowing the children.

"Mika Macklin!" Finally, he said it correctly, and at that point, the poor girl just accepted her fate, even if she had to bite her tongue until it almost bled to do so. "For snitching for a fifth time, you receive...another letter!"

"Ha!" Her twin cackled, pointing at the screen like a disparaging child when a C was added to her ever-filling row. She was so close to spelling SNITCH, a nerve-wracking thing for her, but for the others?

"You hate to see it!" They didn't care.

"Ooh, one more snitch, and you get an E!" Ray taunted her, putting his large hands on his trim waist with sheer confidence, only to get a weird look from his sweet girl.

"H, doof..." She corrected him quietly, pretending she was merely hanging onto his beefy arm for the sake of it when she was fixing his poor literacy skills. Well, and perhaps she wanted to squish his arms...

"And then..."

"The shoes of shame!" Said Chapa, a mischievous smirk growing on her features after being promoted by the boss.

She leaned over from where she'd been sitting on the back of the couch, jeering at her stricken friend as Mika finally crumbled. She felt physically sick at the thought, but they insisted the punishment fit the crime.

"You have to wear the ugliest shoes known to man for an entire week!" Schwoz added impishly, creeping over from where he'd been soldering because he couldn't help but join in the teasing.

Miles was the one who fetched them, dramatically cracking open a shoebox to reveal possibly the whitest, plainest, most boring sneakers his sister had ever seen - and she'd seen some shockers. The mere sight of them gave her a jumpscare, and for a second, she swore a little bit of vomit leapt into her mouth.

"No! Those are hideous! They're so plain and white!" She whimpered, feeling her hands shake as the ugly shoes were passed from Miles to Schwoz, who tossed them to (y/n), who dropped them like a hot potato into her doofus' hands. Yeah, no, she wouldn't be caught dead in them, either.

"Yeah, then don't snitch!" Said the superhero as he waved the pair in front of her face like a piece of rotten trash he'd found on the side of the road, making the girl recoil instantly.

"Okay!" She huffed, folding her arms once the sneakers were discarded.

She didn't know why they all made a big deal out of it - and (y/n) just seemed to let her husband run riot - but at least she'd noticed their surroundings amongst the chaos. Or, instead, she'd noticed someone lingering on the doorstep.

"Well, I don't want to be a snitch or anything, but there's a kid looking at us through the glass doors!"

"Where'd he come from?" Asked (y/n) with a confused frown.

She could swear she recognised the little boy, but she couldn't put her finger on it, not when her heart hurt when he stood out in the cold, shivering his little butt off. Typically, any visitors to the Man's Nest were held in contempt - no one was supposed to be able to approach without clearance - but she saw no harm from a child. Ray, though, did not get the memo.

"I don't know, sweet girl, but let's punch first and ask questions later!" The man growled, clenching his fists at the thought of invaders--those stupid enough to challenge him in his own home, and he didn't care if they used innocent kids as decoys.

"Exactly!" Chapa agreed wholeheartedly as sparks flew from her fingertips, and she joined him in storming toward the door...only for Schwoz to get there first.

"No, no, no, no!" He exclaimed, raising a hand to stop them from attacking what he knew to be a friendly face. "It's my nephew, Zed!"

"Oh, I remember him now..." muttered the heroine as the genius hurried to pull his relative into the warm indoors. "But he's definitely grown..."

She recalled meeting him several times when Schwoz's kooky relatives invaded the Man Cave. Still, there was something different about him now, and it wasn't the Hawaiian shirt in near-sub-zero temperatures.

"What are you doing here?! You could catch a cold out there--you don't have your baby beard anymore!"

"Baby beard?" Asked Chapa, looking at her teachers as they observed from afar, totally unfazed since they were used to this shit by now.

"Schwoz's family..."

"Total freaks..." Ray and (y/n) replied dryly, knowing the arrival of the small man's nephew only meant some little familial issue that the hero could not be bothered with. Instead, he would much rather spend time with his precious wife, curling an arm around her waist as she pressed against his side, loving how his bicep felt around her.

"He brought me a message can from Mama!" Said Schwoz after muttering a few words with Zed, and he showed them the small tin he'd received. Obviously, cell phones had yet to reach Schwoz Land. "This is either really good news or really bad!"

"Ten bucks says it's bad..." mumbled (y/n) to her doofus as everyone gathered around the genius, wanting to hear the so-called message can. She was never one to speak poorly about others, knowing it wasn't very nice, but Schwoz's mother? She was an interesting woman, to say the least.

Ray couldn't help but agree, feeling his gut tense with butterflies as his handyman cracked the can open with a satisfying sizzle. Then, it all came pouring out like the worst sob story of all.

"It's really bad!" An accented voice wailed as it came from the can, sounding much like Schowz's, save with a female tone. His brows furrowed upon hearing the familiar sound of his mother, and that's when Zed quickly made his exit, knowing what was coming next.

"Schwoz, it's Mama!" The wailing continued, with Ray scoffing under his breath upon hearing that god-awful screeching right when he had to give ten dollars to his wife. She would buy them smoothies or ice cream later. "I don't want you to worry for me..."

"Sick turn coming..." muttered Ray to (y/n) and Chapa, who knew it was terrible when the lovey-dovey doofus preferred to fold his arms rather than hang off his lover's body.

Instead, the heroine comforted him, lovingly squeezing his forearm because she knew this would only put him in a foul mood - much worse than when he found out about the truck.

"But I'm sick!"

"Told ya..." Ray rolled his eyes and leaned some weight on his wife, glad for her support because he knew that devil woman would return eventually. She always did - as regular as a German clock - and it was always the same, conniving trick in one way or another.

"My doctor says I have melty bones!" Mrs Schwoz explained in a woe-is-me tone, pulling a dismissive scoff from the doofy hero. Luckily, it was drowned out by the loud gasps from Schwoz and the children, who would have lynched him for being so callous if they had heard.

"Melty bones runs in my family!" Schwoz said, clamping a hand over his mouth in shock at the awful news of a disease known only in his homeland.

"Yes, you should get checked..." his mother told him, which was slightly strange since the message could only allow recordings, but she'd always been a tricky one—like a witch, as Ray would say.

"Please, come home to Mama! I need you!" Her final wails deepened Schwoz's torment, keenly aware that he could not abandon his mother in her hour of need, but he knew Ray and how much he hated goodbyes. "Okay...how do I hang this thing up? It's probably this big button that says hang up!"

It was a conundrum, and unfortunately, the man-child saw how seriously his friend was considering doing as Mama Schwoz said. Deep down, he would hate to watch him go, knowing how much the place needed him, yet it didn't help how infuriating that woman was.

"Ugh, how did I miss it?--" Ray had heard enough.

Not wanting to listen to another second of her aggravating voice, he snatched the message can from Schwoz's hands, tossed it onto the floor, and stamped on it--several times until it was very, very flat. Just to make sure she wouldn't come back.

"Okay, doofus, let's calm down now..." said (y/n) soothingly. She hooked him by the bicep and pulled him back to her like a wandering, tantrum-throwing child. She gave him something to focus on, encouraging him to wrap her up in a bear hug and nuzzle her neck, allowing the sweet scent of her shampoo to numb his fury.

"Schwoz, I'm so sorry..." said Mika sympathetically, a hand on her heart since she couldn't imagine what it must have been like for the genius to go through that.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too, pal..." Ray added, and for a brief, shining moment, his darling wife actually thought he was being sincere and thoughtful toward Schwoz for once. She should have known better.

"...That you can't go visit her."

"What?" The kids shrieked at him, aghast at how heartless he was, as he simply scooped the crushed can up from the floor to put in the trash can. Sure, they knew the guy was emotionally constipated, but even for him, it seemed so harsh...

They looked to (y/n) for help, knowing she was the only one he ever expressed genuine feelings for - very openly - but even she seemed taken aback. And that was saying something; she knew Mama as well as he did and possibly disliked her just as much, but he could have used a little more tact.

"Raymond, that's not very nice!" The heroine told him sternly, remembering how they'd discussed that not last week. If he wanted to have friends, he had to be friendly, which meant being gracious, even when things didn't go his way. "We talked about this!"

"Yeah, darlin', and we also talked about how he's already used up all his vacation days when he just had to get his appendix out! Couldn't wait until Thanksgiving!" The man argued, giving her a grumpy frown because, deep down, he knew he would lose the fight.

Ray was not as heartless as he had pretended to be, and she saw the vulnerability underneath; if only he had been as honest with everyone else as she was with her...

"Doofus, that's the trash..." said the woman coolly as she watched him throw the can into the everyday wastebasket--when the recycling was irritatingly close beside it.

"So?" He muttered petulantly, stomping away from the bins with no intention of making it right.

"You and me are gonna fall out, doofus..." answered (y/n) warningly, lightly slapping his muscly arm just to make him watch his tone. Still, she couldn't blame him too much, also feeling sinking in her tummy at the thought of Schwoz's Mama and all the trouble she usually brought.

"But it's his mom!" Mika exclaimed insistently, unafraid to confront her moody boss since she felt bad for the little fella. "And she's got melty bones!"

"Oh, she always does this!" Ray scoffed in response, throwing his hands up in frustration because they were unbelievably naive.

What? They thought they could hang out in the Man's' Nest for two seconds and suddenly know more than he did? He'd known Schwoz for many years, and issues with his mother started not a month after they began their work together.

"She always calls him home because she's sick, and when he gets there, she comes up with fifty reasons why he can't leave! Tell them, sweet girl!"

"I mean, technically, it's true," said (y/n) with a slight shrug, although she would have preferred to stay out of it. Ray would always want her on his side, though. "She is quite high maintenance."

"Exactly, and then, I've got no Schwoz for, like, two, maybe, one whole day!"

"I'm the most heartless one here..." replied Chapa, raising her hand in confession, and no one would argue with her on that one, even as the hero proved his inexplicable harshness. "But that's pretty cold, my dude."

Taking a moment to think about what the girl said and noticing his wife's firm glance, Ray put his palms together in a prayer-like pose and pressed his fingertips to his lips in thought. Perhaps it was cruel, but they couldn't know how much he was hurting, so he turned to Schwoz with a flat expression.

"Okay...you can either go home now or for her tasteful memorial service. Your choice."

"You married this man?" Miles muttered to (y/n), and she was a little bashful to see his judgy, bombastic side-eye.

"Yes?" she answered, sounding slightly unsure since it was hard to guess what the boy wanted to hear. For all his silly tantrums, she knew and loved him more than anyone. "He's actually a sweetheart underneath all the...that."

"Hard to believe..." muttered Chapa, although her glare didn't phase the hero. He rebuffed her moody words, rolled his eyes at Mika's blatant disgust, and unfolded his arms.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go dry my truck out!" Screeched the doofus, who glowered at the kids one last time before stomping away through the metal door. "You comin', sweet girl?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there, doof!" The heroine called after him, although she deemed it wise to let him go ahead and cool off. It left her with the children and Schwoz, with the latter feeling a little bit broken by his boss' response.

"That dude really gives no hecks!" said Bose as the genius dramatically fell to his knees, releasing a long, loud wail—similar to his mother's whining.

His face turned red as he screwed it up, the sobs wracking his body, and immediately, Mika and (y/n) rushed to comfort him.

"Schwoz?" The girl asked quietly, barely audible above the noise of the man's heartache. Still, when Mika was talking to him, Schwoz recovered mighty quickly.

"Yeah, Snitch?" He answered, looking up at her with bright, clear eyes - the very opposite of seconds prior when he was crying his eyes out. It took everything Mika had in her not to give him something to really cry about.

"I was just going to say we will do anything to help you see your mama..." the girl said kindly, and she crouched beside him to squeeze him tight.

A stern glance at her friends brought the others over, too. They professed their love for him as they piled up into one big bundle of friendship. They agreed to do whatever they could, knowing that if Ray wasn't going to help, someone had to--and it might as well be them.

(y/n) thought it was unbelievably sweet, holding her precious babies in her snuggly hug until loud, plodding footsteps approached...

"Sweet girl! You said you were coming!" A whiny voice shouted for her, sounding distinctly like her beloved husband, who'd grown needier with every second they'd been apart.

Having wandered to the garage alone, Ray waited two seconds and decided it was too long to go without the love of his life, so he retraced his steps to the main room. Skipping up to the metal door, eager to see his sweet girl again, he poked his head through--only to see his loathsome handyman hogging her sweetness to himself.

"Schwoz! Quit hugging The Snitch and my wife, and come help me!" He barked, spooking the group into untangling themselves.

"Okay, okay, doof, we're coming!" (y/n) yelled back as she rose from the group hug, rolling her eyes at her lover's neediness - albeit with a lovestruck smile.

"Sorry, guys. We'll have to think about this later. You comin', Schwozie?"

Schwoz scuttled after her, wisely choosing to hide behind her back since it meant Ray wouldn't bother with him, not with his pretty girl around. He could quietly deal with the truck while they did the smoochy-smoochy in the corner, but if it saved him from a telling-off, he'd keep his vomit to himself.

The kids, however, knew they'd have to meddle, even if it went against their mentor and boss. It was the right thing to do - what true superheroes would choose - but it meant they'd have to be sneaky.

A little trickery and espionage would be required.

~The next day~

Ray and (y/n) didn't see the kids after that.

They assumed they went home since there were no emergencies, and nothing in the Man's Nest needed doing that Miss Danger couldn't handle, so she and Ray went to bed.

What was new there?

It wasn't until the next day - a perfectly ordinary, regular day in Swellview - that they did the rounds with Schwoz, doing whatever Ray ordered. And like usual, Ray didn't actually do anything useful; it was (y/n) who did the laundry, meal-prepped, helped the fuzzy coconut man tinker with some machines, and vacuumed the long, winding corridors.

Her doofus just stood there, looking all cute and handsome. That was his job. His job was doof.

At last, though, they were finished, and, in a little group, they headed up to the main room of The Nest, taking the tube as Ray rabbitted on about this, that, and everything insane. And, of course, his handyman and the sweet girl just listened, knowing he'd find something to entertain himself soon - if a call didn't come in first.

"I need you to take my toenail clippings and scatter them so my enemies can't use them to curse me," Ray rambled on, spouting some superstitious mumbo-jumbo as he walked hand-in-hand with his beloved wife.

"You really believe that, doofus?" Asked (y/n), smiling up at him with affection gleaming in her eyes since he was too cute for his own good. Stupid, but undeniably cute.

"Of course, darlin'!" He replied brightly, squeezing her hand tighter as they walked down the steps from the tube. "But make sure you save one in case I ever turn--"

"MAMA?!" A sudden shout from Schwoz had Ray shutting his mouth, and when the genius left his side with a cry of glee and a silly little run, his heart dropped to his stomach.

All his nightmares seemed to materialise in the middle of the room, culminating in his dumb child sidekicks, with shit-eating grins on their faces, sitting on a wacky bed piled high with all manner of furs and blankets. Beside them, a hideously ugly and bizarre woman with wrinkly, baggy skin and long, grey hair piled up on her head in a ridiculous up-do - plus a little sprig of something green and leafy.

She, the woman, smiled at Schwoz and smirked at Ray, whose jaw clenched and hand tightened further around his sweet girl's upon it, recognising the bitch instantly. And she was a bitch. She was the stuff of his darkest dreams.

"Schwozie!" she exclaimed, welcoming Schwoz into her arms as he leapt onto the bed like a little boy—but not before doing a weird hand motion thing. And why wouldn't he? She was, after all, his mother, whom he hadn't seen in many a month.

As they had their weird, little reunion, petting and patting each other most strangely, Ray snapped his fingers at Danger Force, his stern stare ordering them to his side so they could explain themselves.

"Oh, this isn't good..." muttered (y/n), rubbing her hand against her temple as the children waddled over, seemingly proud of themselves for letting that woman in despite everything they had said.

"Who's responsible for this?! Huh?!" Ray frowned, practically pinning the kids with his frosty glare, but they didn't back down; Miles was as calm as ever, Chapa was her usual grumpy self, Mika buzzed nervously beside her brother and Bose...he was just vacant.

"Mika? You feelin' a little snitchy?"

"Oh, I think you know that I am!" Hissed the girl in reply, hating how he knew her weakness, but she and her friends had discussed this during their devious little plan. She wouldn't break and snitch - at least not at first.

"I'll tell you who brought her here--me! Miles Macklin!" The boy said proudly, placing his hands on his hips and smiling off into the distance.

"Ooh! Ooh! He snitched on himself! Give him an S!"

"S!" Bose shouted, kicking his leg into the air to contort himself into a shape that looked nothing like an S, but Mika's excitement was short-lived.

"Doesn't count if you snitch on yourself," answered (y/n) dryly, knowing that the principle was the integrity side of everything - it was one thing to tell the truth about yourself, but to rat on a friend? That was something that Ray didn't want in his Man's Nest, much to the girl's disappointment and frustration.

"Who makes up these rules?!"

"Duh, Ray..." said the woman with a silly grin, and she wrapped her arms around her doofus' bicep to squeeze it like a teddy bear. He was not happy, frowning and pouting as he glanced over his shoulder to check on Schwoz and their uninvited guest, glowering when he saw how weirdly they snuggled.

"Look..." said Miles, seeing how angry his boss was.

Even (y/n), with her kind heart and fair judgement, didn't seem very pleased about the woman currently occupying her home with that enormous, hideous bed. "After a number of unsuccessful attempts to teleport to Schwoz's home country..."

"Eighty-three," said Chapa sarcastically, her monotone honesty making the boy throw a quick glare at her for interrupting and shaming him.

"Not important. I made it there and brought her and her melty bones back here so she could see her son because we love Schwoz! And yeah, she screamed a lot when I grabbed her, and yeah, she tried to scratch me with one of her little melty arms, and--where was I going with this?"

"To Crazy Jail for kidnapping, judging by that rant," answered (y/n), folding her arms upon hearing the way they went behind her and Ray's back, concocting such an elaborate plan to bring Schwoz's mother to The Nest, not knowing what a pain in the ass she could be.

Of course, like many children, they were deluded by their assumption of how nice the world appeared to be, having hardly had a go at life. So Chapa stepped forward and snapped at them, too.

"She's a normal, sweet mom who just wants to see her son!" She argued although Ray begged to differ.

"She is rubbing his belly like a dog," replied the superhero, jabbing his thumb toward the mother-and-son duo, who were certainly doing just that. She tickled his tummy, and Schwoz loved it. He stuck his tongue out and panted like a puppy, the weirdest thing any of them had seen in a while.

"Yeah, that's a little weird..." Said Miles, frowning at the bizarre exchange, particularly when Schwoz shook his leg and barked lowly and gruffly, but he was not one to judge. Ray, on the other hand...

"It's a lot of weird! I can't stand that lady!" He told them, suddenly looking a little distraught as he recalled all the unfortunate times he'd met Mrs Schwoz's Mom, and there had been a lot over the years. "She's always trying to find ways to body-shame me, or throw food at me, or break me and (y/n) up!"

"Raaaaaaaaaaay!" But before he could elaborate and give examples, of which there were dozens, a shrill, accented voice called out to him from behind.

It seemed so lovely, coated in saccharine to make it seem friendly. Still, he knew it was anything but, taking his wife's hand for moral support and turning around with an even faker smile.

"Mama Schwozzzzzz!" Said Ray, turning around with (y/n), wearing the brightest, tightest smiles they could muster as they faced the dragon of a woman. God, she thought of herself like a queen, sitting on that pile of fur and silk with her stupid, poofy hair, and her arrogance really pissed him off.

"Oh, have you gained weight?" And those snide, backhanded comments, too. So damn bitchy, but that was her all over.

"I've gained muscle! And, actually, that weighs more than fat, so..." Ray replied as (y/n) protectively curled her arms around his trim waist and hugged her precious doofus. She didn't care what size he was, but Captain Man was the fittest, hottest man she'd ever met; Mama Schwoz was just mean.

"Maybe..." The woman shrugged before turning her crinkled gaze toward the girl at his side, liking her more than that idiot for whom her son worked. Still, she thought lovely (y/n) could do much better than him, thinking Ray Manchester punched ten leagues above himself when he pulled a girl like her.

"(y/n)!"

"Hello, Mama Schwoz..." said the heroine shyly. Her husband gently took her hand this time, allowing her to feel his wedding band.

He was braced for it, but it still stung when that judgemental stare came their way, eyeing their matching rings and huffing. It made the man feel a little insecure, knowing someone, even if she was insulting, thought he wasn't good enough, and all he ever wanted was the best for his sweet girl.

"Still hanging out with him?"

"Well, he's still the love of my life." But Ray didn't need to worry about a thing, not when (y/n) turned to him with sparkling eyes, the biggest, lovesick smile, and hearts in her eyes. She stepped a little closer to him, allowing his muscly - not fat - arm to wrap itself around her shoulders as he looked down at her, equally head over heels.

"And we've been married for four months now. I think we're a little past the hanging-out stage."

"Well, there's still time..." muttered Mama Schwoz, her snake-like gaze sliding to her folded hands as Ray coughed out a choked chuckle, knowing if he didn't hold his tongue, he'd end up saying something unforgivable.

"Well, this has all been terribly fun, but I'm having a bad time, and these kids have a lot of work to do down at superhero school, so... Mama Schwoz, if you don't mind..."

"I don't mind!" She grinned sourly, deliberately ignoring Ray's not-so-subtle hint for her to just fuck off already, keenly aware that he hated her as much as she despised him. Instead, ignoring his comment, she reached out and stroked Schwoz's belly again, making him pant and shake his leg like a dog.

The kids just wandered off, happy to leave the genius and his mom alone for some quality time together, but Ray just stood there. His teeth ground together, and his fists clenched, utterly disgusted to see the woman's hold over his handyman.

The fact that she had the nerve to infiltrate his Man's Nest and start smarting him made it worse, almost to the point where he didn't hear his sweet girl whispering soft words behind him.

"Doofus? Oh, doooooofus?..." (y/n) called to him, tugging on his arm enough for the hero to tear his eyes away from the revolting sight for a second.

"What, darlin'?"

"You're gonna burst a blood vessel if you don't chill out," said his wife as she stroked his beefy arm and smiled up at him, fluttering her eyelashes to enchant him as only she knew.

"Can't help it," muttered Ray, who softened for a minute before returning to glaring at Mama Schwoz. If looks could kill, his brooding, grumpy stare would have her six feet under, much to (y/n)'s amusement.

"You know how much that woman pisses me off."

"Come with me, Ray." A gentle tug on his hand had Ray stumbling toward the metal door before he caught himself, wondering what his sweet girl was up to. She looked at him happily and lovingly, eyes full of innocence and good intentions, but his feet didn't want to move.

That would mean leaving Schwoz's mother alone to have free run of The Nest, and the thought made him sick to his stomach. And the kids needed schooling; why else would he entertain having them in his life, causing chaos and inviting weird, old women into his home?

So, his mouth moved automatically, and he looked at his pretty girl with a blank stare—as if he didn't know what her dragging him off meant.

"What?"

"You're stressed out to hell," said (y/n) with a giggle, and this time, a glimpse of mischief crossed her face. She tugged him toward the door again, and Ray followed, tripping over his feet as she smirked and whispered the words that would usually make him run to her.

"Come with me."

"It's not like I don't want Schwoz to see his mom. I do."

Ray muttered as he lay on his bed, propped up against the headboard and a mountain of pillows, blissfully in absolute heaven. He'd been ranting for a solid twenty minutes, his motor mouth never ceasing since his sweet girl dragged him away from Mama Schwoz and her golden boy of a son. His handyman.

The idea was for him to relax - get all cosy and comfy in a safe environment where they could lock the doors and decompress together. At least, that was (y/n)'s plan. So far, it wasn't going so well.

"I know, doofus." Her reply was soft and short, more bothered about resting against his bare chest than paying attention to whatever grievance her husband had. She didn't mind hearing him venting but for twenty minutes? About the same old crap? No one could relax with that racket.

"She's just so annoying. Did you hear what she said to you about us?" said the doofus, hissing through his teeth as he recalled how rude that wrinkly hag had been, daring to imply that his beloved wife might disappear one day. The very thought made his heart hurt, and his lips quiver.

"There's still time--huh! I'll show her!"

"I know, doof. I was there," (y/n) replied, nuzzling into her neck as she melted into his lap, knees on either side of his hips. Ray's large hands loosely gripped her waist, moving only to gesture wildly to nothing and no one since no one else would entertain his rant.

Only her, and she was barely listening, anyway.

"I'll kick her ass, you see if I don't!" He spat, scrunching his nose and wriggling slightly, unintentionally disturbing the precious girl above him. Really, he should've been at total peace, content to just lay there with his wife and admire her beautiful form - given that she was utterly and perfectly naked.

So was he, having ripped off his tight shirt and jeans and discarded them in a rumpled pile the minute she gave him the order to strip. Usually, he would've had a one-track mind, but Ray couldn't shake the anger instilled in him by Mrs Schwoz's Stupid Mom.

"Maybe that'll teach her to stop saying mean things about me, too..."

"Uh-huh..."

"Did you see her face when you told her we got married, though?" And he kept going. He would only stop when he'd tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear or rake his fingers down her back, making his sweet girl purr.

The sound was music to his ears and enough to stroke his ego, remembering how his wife told that bitch about their wedding. The happiest day of his life.

"I just wanted to shout in her face, that's right, Mama Schwoz! I made this incredibly hot woman my wife, so you can suck it! Yeah!"

"You and I both know you'd never do that, Raymond," (y/n) replied quietly, her words slightly slurred since her cheek was smushed into his chest.

But she knew Ray, and for all his big talk and dumb ideas, he wasn't actually very good at confrontation. She'd learnt that the first time she met the woman.

"You're too scared of her."

"I'm not scared, sweet girl!" he argued, pouting petulantly as his arms squeezed her tighter. His nose wrinkled at the thought because Captain Man did not get scared—even if he was allowed to.

That woman just knew how to needle his insecurities, picking on his looks and most profound, most sacred feelings and making all his emotional progress unravel. His eyes found himself in the mirror across the room, seeing how the beauty laid on his chest like a goddess...and there was him, lurking beneath.

"And I'm not fat, either..."

"No, you're not." This time, (y/n) perked up.

While she wasn't interested in discussing Mama Schwoz anymore, the unsure edge in her husband's voice instantly made her sit straighter. It wasn't like him to lack confidence. When she looked into his eyes, palms braced on his impeccable pecs, a flash of insecurity appeared in the crystalline blue.

"Would you still love me, even if I was?" Ray asked in a heartbreakingly small voice, holding her waist as his gaze broke off to the side.

"Are you serious right now, Raymond?" His wife asked sharply, an ugly frown appearing on her pretty face, making the hero regret his silly question.

He disliked anything that made her unhappy, and his insecurities were inconsequential and unnecessary. He was Captain Man. Anything less than perfection was not in his description.

But then, her frown turned strangely sad as (y/n) felt a stab of offence in her gut. Did people think she was that shallow?

She cupped his face, bringing his beautiful eyes back to hers and silently swore that if she heard that woman insult him again, Mama Schwoz or not, she would have her head, preferably on a platter.

"You really think that matters to me?"

"Well..." Ray gulped, knowing his chiselled body and not-so-bad face were ninety per cent of him. Maybe he was brave and strong, but apart from that, he didn't see what else made him special.

"Well, nothing. I married a sweet, kind, funny, adorably dumb doofus, and I don't care if he's chubby, skinny, or anything in between. I love you for you, Ray, not what you look like."

The smile slowly grew on his face, in tandem with the pinkish blush that spoke of his affection. A soft, fuzzy warmth spread through his belly, travelling lower, higher, and to his heart, turning that frown into a lovestruck gaze.

"...But it doesn't hurt that you're easy on the eye," whispered (y/n) with a little giggle as she admired his perfectly sculpted face.

His arms came around her frame, pulling her close - if that were even possible - and they laughed, brushing their lips together until Ray pulled away with a cheeky grin.

"You're crushin' on me, aren't you?" He said jokingly, fingers brushingly ticklishly up her ribs, making the heroine shriek and scold him.

"Shut up, you big doofus!"

"Nah, I'm serious, darlin'!" He laughed heartily, leaning forward to smooch up her throat and jawline before looking up at his beloved wife with those big, blue eyes - he looked like such an adorable doofus. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"So pretty," replied (y/n) with a slight nod. She felt slightly breathless at the handsome man staring up at her, his hands exploring her curves. It was somewhat daunting to have his full attention fixed on her, but it was also exhilarating. Like her tummy was full of butterflies.

"That's good 'cause I think you're pretty, too," Ray answered softly, gaze drifting down her body and its finer features.

Her delicate collarbones, then her soft stomach, and south toward the apex of her thighs, which met his. And between them was the greatest gift he could ever receive - his hard, leaking cock pressed deep inside her warm walls, so safe and snug all this time.

"My pretty girl, with her beautiful face, and gorgeous eyes...and her perfect pussy."

"You know how to flatter a girl, doof." A sigh left (y/n)'s smiling lips, which only grew when Ray cupped her cheeks, settling into the plush pillows just as she had instructed.

It was all part of her plan to make him forget about all his troubles, and it was working. Mama Schwoz still pissed him off, but how could any man be upset when he had an angel on top of him, ripping her clothes off and straddling him with learned experience?

Ray certainly couldn't, practically putty in her hands as he smiled like an idiot and focused on the gentle, pleasant sensation of her pussy trembling around him.

"S'true. Here I am, calm as fuck, even with that wrinkly poodle of a woman in my Man's Nest, and it's all because my perfect fuckin' wife's got her pussy wrapped around me."

"Easiest way to get you to relax, Ray," answered (y/n), adjusting her position, making her walls drag against his length a little. Her nails raked down his chest, causing goosebumps to ripple across his skin, and the hero practically purred. "I'm not having you and her nearly cause World War Three again, not when I've just waxed the floors."

"That was seven years ago, sweet girl," Ray argued as he leaned up to nuzzle further against her neck. His voice turned sharper as he remembered all the tricks and chaos that woman caused - rage simmering with pleasure in the background.

"And she was the one who started it."

"I'll finish it." (y/n) left no room for arguments.

A roll of her hips - a minuscule movement - had her lover groaning and hissing, grabbing her hips tighter. With his eyes screwed shut, the doofus groaned--almost whining--much to his wife's mischievous smirk when all comments about Mama Schwoz disappeared.

"F-Fuck, you play dirty," stammered Ray, his gaze rolling to the back of his head when she slowly began to move.

With expert rolling and undulations, the heroine set an agonisingly slow pace to warm them up. He begged to differ, thinking twenty minutes of cockwarming with her hot cunt twitching around him was enough to make any man feral.

But he had to lay there and take it, moaning lowly in the back of his throat as (y/n) set the speed she liked, riding him lazily with her hands braced on his toned abs.

"You like it, though."

"Yeah, I fuckin' do. Got these tits in my face and my girl bouncin' on my cock," he spat, reaching up to tweak her hard nipple, tugging it just to hear her mewl. "Most guys would kill to have this, but you're all mine, right, sweet girl?"

"All yours, doofus!" She panted, already feeling her legs jitter from both the position and the long wait.

He stretched her out so good when she first slid onto her, engulfing that long, thick cock in her drenched, gummy walls, and it was like torture having to hold off until he shut up. But it was worth it to have him like this; under her, drenched in sweat, so deep in her pussy that it felt like he was in her stomach, and moaning to the rhythm of her rutting against his lap.

"Pretty pussy..." Ray muttered lazily, a weak spank hitting her ass when the pace increased, and he could feel it coming. His sweet girl was barely paying attention, lost in her own little world as she chased the first of her highs, and it wasn't far off.

She swallowed his cock too easily, the sound of skin hitting skin and wet slaps filling the room as she bounced and writhed and squirmed, looking to hit the sweetest point just right.

"She just sucks me in, needs a cock to keep her all happy and wet. Does she want to cum?"

"Uh-huh--wanna cum, doof." Her breathy, whimpering moans had him more whipped than he already was, hands wandering her clammy skin as his hips bucked up, too. The jolt made her tits heave - the prettiest sight that had the hero's eyes turning to slits and drool pooling on his tongue, wanting those perky tips in his mouth.

"S'pose I should play with your pretty, lil' clit, too, then? She needs attention, too..."

"Ray..." His name fell from her lips, tears gathering in the corner of her eyes as she stopped bouncing, preferring to grind against his public bone when a fat thumb pad suddenly assaulted her clit.

Their skin stuck together, melded by sweat, but neither cared nor noticed, not when he had his pretty girl exactly where he wanted her, rubbing her slick clit in hot, tight circles.

"You only get this whiny when you want to cum, sweet girl," Ray said, grinning ferally as he took a hand from his torso, bringing it to his mouth and pulling a finger between his lips.

He sucked it down to the knuckle before pulling away with a pop, leaving a gentle kiss against her palm when their eyes met again. "Gets me so hard, hearing you say my name like that."

"R-Ray!"

"Fuck, come on. You want me to relax? Then, soak me, sweet girl." His words were the final push to send (y/n) tumbling, crying out as her cunt clamped around his cock and sent fire running through her veins.

Candied whimpers left her lips as Ray groaned, never stopping the touch against her clit as he let her ride out the high. The nerve and energy it took him not to follow was insurmountable, his head thumping against the wall as he panted through gritted teeth.

"S-So good, doofus," said (y/n) once the ripples faded out, leaving her jelly-like and feeling too damn good. She slumped down against him, pressing his cock further inside her, nudging her innermost walls, and as she caught her breath, Ray found himself staring at where their bodies met.

A sheen of shiny slick coated his lower lap from where she'd gushed all around him, creating a sticky mess that made his mouth water. Just the thought of crawling between her legs and cleaning it up had him straining in her pussy, but he'd refrain.

He wasn't quite finished yet.

"Yeah? Felt so hot when you came around me." He stroked her soft tummy, finally relenting on her clit and brushing the strands of hair away from her drenched forehead. "You always do."

"Are you relaxed?" (y/n) asked innocently, noting how he fully sunk into the pillows, his large, bulky frame taking up most of the bed. With his muscles and tall stature spreading across the mattress, he looked like a king--surely, that made her a queen if she got to sit atop him.

"Not quite..." But, in the blink of an eye, the world shifted.

Ray was relentless in his thirst for his beloved wife, seizing her waist and throwing her onto the mattress, rolling himself on top. In the commotion, his cock fell from her slicked cunt, causing a little gasp to leave their lips as he bobbed between her legs, which swiftly parted to accommodate her big doofus.

"That's my good girl," whispered the hero as he settled himself in his favourite place in the world, taking himself in his palm and guiding his flared tip back to where it belonged. "Let me fuck my favourite pussy--take my mind off things."

He slipped in effortlessly, aided by the endless sheen coating her lips and thighs, and they groaned in unison. The change in position created a new stretch--a new yet familiar burn--that had (y/n) turning her head to the side, crying into the sheets as Ray began thrusting deeply.

His lips found her neck, kissing and panting hard at how well she always took him, and if he looked at her pleasure-strewn face now, he knew he'd spill early. So, he kept his movements controlled, bucking into her at a leisurely pace - not too hard, not too fast - as if that would soothe the ache in them.

"Sh-shit, doof--" she choked out, voice trembling from the force of his body rocking hers, but he was holding back. She could tell. And it was the only thing that would keep her sane if he fucked her gushy cunt hard and strong.

"Can go harder if you want."

"Really? Think you can handle it?" Ray asked with a shit-eating smirk that masqueraded his lack of self-restraint as cocksure confidence. The tips of his ears burned from the effort of not holding his sweet girl down and ploughing into her, wanting to be buried in all the crannies and crevices that her scorching pussy had to offer.

"I'm not made of glass..." But the soft, fucked-out smile she gave him was enough to melt his cockiness, and instead, he felt the urge to bury himself inside grow tenfold.

She looked too cute for this world, his perfect pillow princess, as she laid back and took his cock, even when he doubled down and really fucked her.

"I fuckin' love you," he whispered hotly against her lips, meeting them in a filthy clash of teeth and tongues before he settled simply touching foreheads together.

"Love--love you, too," she replied shakily, arms curled around his back as she pressed her face into the side of his head, whimpering and moaning right against his ear. "You fuck me so good, Ray."

"Tell me..." Ray muttered lowly, loving how he could still hear the seat slapslapslap of her sloppy pussy, even above himself and her moans.

When she didn't reply immediately, a pathetic cry fell from her lips, and a hard spank to her outer thigh made her shout, nails digging into his shoulders as he growled into her hair.

"Tell me how good I am at fucking this pretty, little cunt."

"So fucking good! I love it--love you!" She cried, choked and desperate at his relentless pace and how his heavy frame seemed to pin hers down. "So goof for me, Ray."

"M'so deep... Can you feel me in here? Feel my cock in your tummy, darlin'..." An even heavier hand suddenly rested on her stomach and pushed. All the sensations around her body intensified, making it feel like his cock was punching up into her throat, nudging against his fingertips every time.

"Don't..." (y/n) whined, tears on her lashes again when her cunt squeezed at the fuller feeling. "Make me cum again..."

"But what if that's what I want?" Ray asked in a saccharine tone, licking a hot strip up her neck, tasting salt and something sweeter - just like his sweet girl.

Nothing sounded better, wanting to feel the safety and reassuring familiar yet of her walls strangling his cock when he came deep inside her - and it was creeping up on him.

"Cum around me again, sweet girl, and I can cum for you, too. You want that?"

"Mm-hmm."

She nodded lazily, feeling the same dull but steadily rising pleasure return to her gut, and this time, it was so much more intense, sending waves of slickness around his length. A ring of creamy whiteness gathered at his base, sucking him deeper as she moaned in the back of her throat and closed her eyes.

"Fucked so good, you can't even talk..." The man laughed, nosing her soft cheek and sucking a few fleeting bruises into her skin, marking her up as his in his head.

"S'okay, pretty girl. I got you." Two fingers returned to her clit, snaking between searingly hot, sweaty bodies to circle figures of eight around the drenched nub. More pathetic moans left her precious lips, and Ray felt how close she was, sensing every twitch and tremble from her inner walls.

"So close..." She gasped, muscles pulling taut and face scrunching as her cunt began to convulse, pulling Ray along for the ride.

"Me, too--where'd you want me?" He asked, a strained edge creeping into his voice as he got closer and closer, but he had to ask, even as her gushy pussy slowly drained his sanity.

"Should I paint your walls, or your perfect tits, or your beautiful face?"

"Inside! Make me yours--inside!" Her reply was instantaneous, screeching as the knot in her stomach began to unravel, and his fingers quickened against her clit.

"My wife knows what I--I like best." Ray chuckled, only for it to get stuck in his throat. He gasped and groaned, feeling his heavy balls tighten and beg to spill, and what better place than deep inside her--where he belonged?

"I'm gonna cum, (y/n)..."

"Do it, Ray. I'm right here..." She pressed her lips to his skin in the final moment, freezing against the bed when he moaned and pressed himself as deeply as he could against her cunt.

With her legs spread wide around him, he spilt into her spasming pussy, mumbling praises and Iloveyous as rope after rope coated her walls. She milked him dry, whining in the back of her throat as it washed over her like a warm, gentle wave.

"Fuck..." Ray could barely move, sagging against her soft body as he rumbled like a grizzly bear after too much honey.

Shivers ran down his spine as her fingers found the hair at the nape of his neck. She scratched his scalp soothingly as he curled into her body and breathed. The room was silent, save for their panting, and for a glorious moment of post-fuck bliss, he barely remembered the woman he dreaded.

"Better?" (y/n) asked after a few minutes, pressing a soft kiss against his temple that had Ray smiling into the cleft between her breasts.

"Yeah..." he mumbled, still feeling woozy and warm. He had yet to pull out, and he didn't plan on doing so because it all felt so comfy--like the room was golden and she was an angel. "God, I feel so much better."

"Good. That was the plan."

"Have I ever told you I think your pussy has magic powers?" He asked, and (y/n) knew he genuinely meant it. It was such a Ray thing to ask, and she laughed with a shake of her head, swatting his shoulder.

"Oddly enough, doof, I don't think so."

"Well, it does," answered the doofus before a loud yawn left him, muttering tiredly. Then he slumped against her body, trapping his precious girl under his heavy, six-foot-something frame.

"I could just fall asleep right here, and you'll be here when I wake up, right, darlin'? Then, I'll eat you out and clean up the mess I made."

The way he said it, mumbling into her boob like a worn-out little boy, made her coo, heart clenching at how adorable he was.

Deep down, Ray loved the praise from acts of service—Captain Man and everything—but while she would have loved to spread her legs and let him get on with his favourite pastime like a good boy, there was a slight problem.

"You know, we have a classroom full of kids to teach in about an hour," said (y/n) quietly, not wishing to ruin the peace and quiet, but the children would. Inevitably. They only had their lunch hour before it was back to work, and then, they'd come in. Kicking. Screaming. Rioting.

But that didn't bother Ray. Nothing or no one would prise him from his sweet, sweet wife.

"Let them wait," he said firmly, adjusting his position to spoon her rather than squash her. He nuzzled closer and sighed, closing his eyes for a quick nap, content to stay wrapped in her warmth for however long she would allow.

"It's their fault we have the bride of Chucky staying in our guest suite."

Lunch flew by.

Seriously, Ray was thinking about increasing it to two hours when his phone suddenly rang, and Mika appeared on the screen. Of course, it was that miscreant.

An hour in bed with his wife was simply not long enough, and he whined when (y/n) told him to shift his butt and get showered - ten minutes later than they should have done. It was hard to resist the big doofus, who whined when he didn't get his way of wanting another round or at least a taste of what he'd begged for.

But his sweet girl refused, throwing him some boxer shorts and a clean white tee as she waddled to the bathroom, hoping to make herself at least a little presentable. At least Ray could be proud of that, noting the slight wobble in her legs that would disappear in the hour, but he'd know.

And no one else would.

It spurred him to quickly change into his favourite red tracksuit since the Captain Man curriculum for today specified self-defence classes. God only knew how poorly Danger Force fought without their superpowers, so this was a must.

He just had to teach the class and send the kids home so they could resume their alone time. If only. The hag made any chance of staying relaxed and positive impossible.

Of course, Mama Schwoz didn't leave; she waited in SWAG's classroom, where her son had moved her bed—just so she could watch and make unwanted comments, like how she knew a charming boy whom she could introduce to (y/n)—as if Ray wasn't in the room.

Give him strength.

"And then, when the villain says, which arm? You say, dis-arm!" Shouted Ray as he demonstrated one of his more questionable, sneaky techniques to the kids.

His method involved having Chapa stand there, pointing a blaster at him like a villain wouldn't just shoot first and ask questions later, but he insisted it would work. So, after saying his very clever quip, he yanked the gun from her hands and pushed the poor girl to the floor, where (y/n) had thankfully left a crash mat.

"Oh, Chapa, are you okay?" asked the heroine, offering a hand to help the girl up. Her cheeks warmed at the kind offer, and she scowled at the niceness, but even she couldn't refuse (y/n/n).

"Yeah... Thanks (y/n)." She scrambled to her feet, glaring at the smirking hero as he twirled the gun around his finger by the trigger guard.

It was only when Mama Schwoz squinted and hummed in disapproval that his eyes narrowed. He wondered what she possibly wanted to complain about now.

"Ehhhhhh...."

"What's that, ehhhhhhh?" Asked the hero, his lips twisting into a snarl as he scowled at the woman.

Schwoz stood at her side, barely leaving her alone since she wanted to be waited on, hand and foot, which included being fed drops of medicine from a pipette like a queen and her servant.

"Well, it's not how I would disarm someone, but..." Mama Schwoz said with a slight shrug. Knowing how difficult she was being, seeing the hero so mad just made it fun.

"Okay..." Ray gritted his teeth, remembering his happy place not an hour ago when he was safe and warm with his sweet girl, but the bitch just made it so damn hard not to rip her head off. "Why don't you come on up here and show us how it's done?"

"Can't. Bones are melting..." whimpered the woman as she stuck out her bottom lip and batted her lashes slowly.

"Pretty well established at this point, sir," said Bose from his chair, but Ray just rolled his eye. Neither he nor (y/n) believed it for a second.

"But..." She didn't shut up for a single second for someone so sick and desperate, and he had plenty of other reasons to loathe her existence. "If they weren't, I would just kick you in the zipper."

"Yeah, I would say noooooo...." muttered (y/n) as she folded her arms and frowned. Her doofus was indestructible, but any damage in that department couldn't be good for her future plans, and she didn't want to see him writhing on the floor.

"Pffftt! Don't worry, darlin'. That's never gonna--"

"Zipper kick!" Ray spoke too soon. The minute someone put the idea in her head, Chapa just had to try it; she deemed it revenge for how the hero tossed her on the mat like a rag doll.

In one mean, swift kick, she booted Ray in the crotch, making the poor man groan and double over, holding his tenders as they throbbed. The others winced and yelled in shock, covering their mouths in sympathy as (y/n) cried out for her doofus, hoping he was okay 'cause that looked painful.

Mama Schwoz, of course, didn't care, clapping her hands at the sight of the great hero on the ground--writhing in pain.

"My turn! My turn!" The kids shouted, leaping from their seats at the chance to grievously hurt their boss, who wouldn't let anyone else - save for his beloved wife - within three feet of him.

"No one's kicking me in the zipper!" Ray exclaimed, warding the children off by pointing the blaster at anyone who got too close.

Bose, Miles, Mika, and Chapa thankfully backed off. Still, they couldn't help but smirk, watching as Ray clutched his hurting area with a quivering expression.

"And from now on, I would thank you if you stay out of my business!"

"Yeah, I want children, thank you very much!" Said (y/n) as she rushed over to tenderly stroke her doofus' back, telling him it would all be okay in a few seconds--once the pain faded away. The children grimaced at the thought but didn't relent from the teasing.

"No! Let her teach us more stuff!" said Chapa, and the others readily agreed, wanting to inflict more severe pain. Then an alarm blared, and a red light flashed, bathing the room in scarlet - such perfect timing.

"Oh, no!"

"Oh, thank God, there's a crime!" Ray sighed, pressing his palms together in a grateful prayer since, for now, they'd have to put a pin in ruining his chances of being a father.

Literally, he was saved by the bell, and the team begrudgingly plodded over to their chairs, looking ever so childish with their pouty faces.

"All right, we'll see you guys upstairs!" (y/n) cheerfully told them, skipping off to the back room where the stairs were, followed by her husband and Schwoz.

"Mostly everybody! Mostly!" Ray couldn't help but add, glancing over at his shoulder at Mama Schwoz, who fortunately had to stay behind in the Man's Nest because of her melty bones.

There were some small mercies, and whilst the hero didn't like the idea of leaving her in his home, at least he'd have thirty minutes of freedom. A hand reached for his shoulder, peeling him away from the door so they could get moving, and it was all too easy to get the doofus to follow his sweet girl.

"Come on, doofus."

"She's so annoying!" The hero groaned as his wife guided him toward the staircase, knowing he'd happily go back there and strangle Mama Schwoz if she made one more rude comment.

Luckily, Ray calmed down quickly, given the much better view he had whilst tailing his sweet girl, who just knew where he had his eyes glued to--and it wasn't her new sneakers.

"I know, I know..." said (y/n), glancing over her shoulder to see her husband smiling dorkily to himself, looking like a lovesick idiot. "How's your, um...?"

"Can you kiss it better?" He asked instantly, a hopeful grin spreading across his face at the cheeky thought. (y/n) felt her ears superheat, and Schwoz's, who'd been jogging up the stairs in front of them, turned around with an expression of abject horror.

"Ew, gross!" He frowned, his stomach twisting at the grossness of imagining his pure, sweet, innocent friend lowering herself, and--ew, ew, ew!

"Keep walkin', Schwoz!" Ray snapped, glaring at the fuzzy weirdo for daring to interrupt.

Schwoz didn't need to be told twice; he scrambled up the stairs as fast as his little legs could carry him, leaving the handsy hero alone with his precious wife. He couldn't help but grasp her waist and come up close behind her.

"Be a good boy and finish this mission," (y/n) told him, giggling and squirming as he palmed her ass. She told him to stop, smiling when she told him not to play on the stairs, but how could he when she promised such temptation. "Then, I'll think about it."

"Where did I put my damn gum?!" The man patted down his pockets, spinning in circles as they reached the Man's Nest. With clumsy fingers, he plucked it from his pocket, drawing funny looks from the kids who'd arrived in the room before them.

They couldn't imagine why the idiot rushed to get going so quickly, stuffing it in his mouth like a starving man. He held the tube tightly--almost breaking the glass as he waited to pop a gumball, itching to get to work.

But he managed to control himself, even if he buzzed on the spot as (y/n) followed suit, albeit at a normal, not weird, pace, and walked into the room whilst searching for her gum.

"You look so handsome today, doofus," said (y/n) with a bright, affectionate smile once she saw him in the daylight, thinking that tracksuit sculpted his muscles perfectly.

She sidled up to him and looped her arms around his neck, pulling a very willing Ray into a quick kiss.

"Do you guys ever get bored of each other?" Chapa asked sarcastically, wrinkling her nose as she watched the two canoodle - so openly.

"Nope!" they answered together, pulling away and looking at her with twin, love-struck grins. They held hands and everything, like two peas in a pod that had the girl rolling her eyes again, feeling somewhat nauseous.

Neither Ray nor (y/n) cared as the man pulled his wife in for another, smiling against her lips until the heroine noticed something strange.

She counted the kids milling around the room in the corner of her eye and swore they were one down. In such a bustling household, she never missed one of her beloved babies, and even Ray noted how quiet the place seemed to be with one less yapper in his ear.

"Hang on...where's Mika?"

"Oh, she forgot her gum downstairs. Went to get it," Miles explained with a simple shrug, not wanting to look in their direction since his phone was so exciting and their kissing was not.

Ray did not look happy to learn about this dissent in the ranks, hoping they could go out, kick some butt, and get his sweet reward. But they couldn't leave without ShoutOut, so he did the only thing he could think of.

"Ugh...children!" He rolled his eyes before throwing his head back, signalling for the lady beside him to clamp her hands over her ears and brace herself. "MIKA!"

"Doofus! No shouting--let's just go get her!" (y/n) scolded him, wincing when the loudness penetrated her poor ears, and the superhero couldn't help but feel bad.

Still, they went back down the stairs, with Ray grumbling all the way about how he shouldn't send a kid to do Captain Man's job. As her brother said, Mika was downstairs in SWAG, standing in the middle of the room, staring at Mama Schwoz with a ghastly, almost sickened expression.

"MIKA! What's going on?!" Asked Ray sharply, bursting into the room with his wife behind him, looking befuddled as to why she'd want to stay in the room with that.

"I...forgot my gum," the girl answered, but something in her voice made (y/n) frown.

She sounded unsure like she was holding something back, but this was Mika. Mika never lied. That's what made her so snitchy.

"What's with the music?" (y/n) asked, looking at the speakers on the ceiling as she refrained from interrogating the girl - for now.

"I'm so sick!" Across the room, Mama Schwoz whined and coughed weakly. She was still spread across her bed, although she'd managed to kick her melty legs out from underneath her many blankets.

Her outfit was beyond wacky, consisting of a long, frumpy, hippie-like blouse and baggy yoga pants, and it just made Ray hate her even more. And he had zero sympathy for her, no matter how much she whimpered. "I'm so definitely, actually sick!"

"I..." Mika stammered, her gaze meeting the woman's challenging one, but she couldn't reveal her secret. She just couldn't. Not when she resented being called the S-word. So, for the first time, Mika Macklin lied to her teachers' faces, even if it cracked her golden heart.

"I was just getting pumped up! You know, a little pre-crime dancing! Drop low, and bring it high."

"That's stupid," said Ray dryly, giving her an unimpressed stare. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his PearPhone—the one connected to the speaker system. "This is a much better pump-up song!"

"Oh, sweet cheese, Raymond. No..." (y/n) groaned, knowing what he would play simply by his words, but it was too late by then.

Suddenly, a country tune, full of banjos and hillbilly magic, filled the room, and, much to Mika's disgust, the hero began to move his hips in time to the beat. He gestured the brow of a cowboy hat, grinning at the girls as they stood side by side and utterly confused by the sight he made.

"Shuffle to your left! Flex your muscles to the right!" Ray's voice with a country accent began singing, reminding (y/n) of the terrible time he thought he'd be the next big thing, straight from Swellview.

Her doofus wasn't a bad singer, not at all, but just watching how he roped Mika into dancing with him, bootin', scootin', and boogieing on down to the music made her cringe.

The girl looked like she wanted to die, limply moving her arms and legs with Ray's instructions, noticing how Mama Schwoz smirked when the doofus faked a lasso above his head.

"Do the Captain Man. You gotta blow bubbles! You gotta fight crime!"

Now Mika knew why Ray didn't want Schwoz's mother in the Man's' Nest. The woman was a lowdown, perfectly healthy liar.

~Later that day~

The mission went without a hitch, and Ray got his cuddle in bed afterwards. Well, sort of.

It wasn't long before the emergencies started coming thick and fast. He and his sweet girl didn't get much time to themselves, what with pandering to Mama Schwoz's every need. She was relentless, making demands and using Danger Force for her every little need as if Schwoz wasn't there for her little need.

A little later in the day, Ray found something worthwhile for his irritating sidekicks to do for him. Perhaps it would give him the space to drag his wife off for more relaxation, but first, he needed to find them.

With (y/n) tagging along, the hero tubed up to the Man's Nest, a video rental clasped in his tight fist as he jogged down the steps.

She was still in the room - the dragon of all mothers since she preferred the height Captain Man's headquarters gave her. SWAG was too far down the mountain, and Mama Schwoz was too used to being the queen of the hill.

"Gross..." Ray muttered as he stood in the middle of the room, eyeing the disgusting sight of his handyman brushing his smirking mother's hair.

"Just ignore her..." (y/n) told him softly, trying to forget the image of Mama Schwoz shoving massive spoonfuls of yoghurt into her mouth. She fought a constant battle to try and keep the peace, hoping if her doofus just focused on his dumb task, he wouldn't start a fight.

"Okay, sweet girl..." Ray smiled at her brightly before his face turned serious, and (y/n) couldn't put her hands over her ears quickly enough when he threw his head back.

"Danger Force! ASSEMBLE!" Only to say how loud he shouted and how typically speedy his sidekicks were; no one came. All Ray got was a couple of funny looks from Schwoz and his mom, who laughed at him cruelly.

"I said, DangerForceAssemble!"

"They're not here, stupid," said Mama Schwoz snidely, pausing her yoghurt slurping, but her son never stopped brushing her frizzy hair. Ray and (y/n) frowned at the news, wondering where the four could've gone since, technically, they were still at school/work.

"Where are they?" Asked the heroine as she placed a hand on her doofus' chest to keep him back.

"Mama sent them on a mission!" Schwoz replied happily, only briefly looking up from his crucial task of detangling those grey tendrils.

"Mama doesn't get to send them on missions! Only me or (y/n) get to send them on missions, and I have a very important mission that I need to send them on right now!" Said Ray angrily, glaring at the infernal woman still perched on her hideous bed, not that she cared.

"I'm so sorry. What is your important mission?" Schwoz genuinely sounded remorseful, and Ray looked at the ground.

He could feel everyone's eyes on him, thinking it was a murder, or a burglary, or some grand disaster, but his sweet girl knew better. She gave him a raised eyebrow, already predicting a smart comment when he brandished the rental in his hand.

"I need them to return this copy of Addams Family Values. (y/n) and I watched it when we were dating, and now it's absurdly overdue."

"Well, I did tell you to take it back, doofus," (y/n) muttered, shaking her head at her silly doofus as she remembered that cosy night in--well, before she ever dreamed that she'd get to marry her adorable doofus. "Three years ago..."

"They'll be back soon..." Mama Schwoz told her coly, smirking over her little dish.

"Where are they?"

"I just needed them to pick up a few...elderly items," she said, which was a little bit too much information for the hero to deal with, and he wrinkled his nose. "I would've gone myself, but, y'know...melty bones."

"Look..." said Ray through gritted teeth; if he heard the words "melty bones" one last time, he might just yeet her off the side of Mount Swellview. "I'm very honoured that you chose to come here to our Man's Nest to melt all over everything--"

But before he could give her a stern talking-to, hoping to put the woman in her place, Mama Schwoz dipped her spoon into the yoghurt and hurled a little blob at the hero's face. It smeared across his face and dripped onto his uniform, making (y/n) gasp and choke on a giggle.

"Oh, doofus..." she muttered, watching regretfully as her husband wiped the goopy mixture off his chin - at least it was strawberry-flavoured.

"Oops..." Mama Schwoz said slowly, although the delighted smirk growing on her face said she was anything but sorry. "'Ghurted you..."

If it wasn't for his pretty girl holding him back, Ray would've jumped her. He'd had quite enough of her stupid face, smirk, and false niceties. It didn't help that Schwoz thought his mother was amazing. She could do no wrong in his eyes, laughing like it was a big joke.

They needed to pray that the yoghurt would wash out.

"Listen here, you--"

"Raymond! You will not dignify that with a response!" (y/n) told her doofus, feet sliding against the tiled floor since she was practically trying to restrain a human mountain. She could hear Mama Schwoz taunting him behind her back, laughing cruelly as the hero tried to grab her by the hair.

Just how long was she planning on staying?

~The next day~

Oh, she wouldn't leave, turning days into what felt like weeks.

Much to Ray's frustration, Mama Schwoz refused to go home.

By the dawn of the second day of her stay, he'd practically resigned himself to thinking she would become part of their lives. She sat in his home in that ugly bed, ordering the kids around like she was the boss.

Mika, Miles, Bose, and Chapa jumped to everything she said, even menial things like teleporting around the world for the slightest thing. And when Schwoz was too busy, they stepped in to care for her—brushing her hair, massaging her paw-like feet, and painting her crusty toenails.

The hero couldn't believe it, watching in disgust with his beloved wife by his side as Bose fanned the woman with a palm frond. As he did, Miles had the rotten luck of giving those hooves a pedicure. Schwoz acted as a loving companion, holding her smoothie, and Chapa hovered in the background.

"Miles, thank you for teleporting to that gator pond and getting me this palm frond," said Mama Schwoz creepily, smiling over her mound of furs and blankets at the poor boy.

He'd suffered these last few days, evident from the bandage that (y/n) had carefully wrapped around his hand when he returned with a nasty wound.

"Did you know that alligators can climb up palm trees?" Miles asked in a strained voice as he clutched his injured arm. "'Cause I did not!'

"I don't know how she can just sit there", said (y/n) moodily, resting her head against Ray's beefy arm as they sat on the steps near the doors, accompanied by Mika.

The kids had visited Hip Hop Purée and brought back delightfully fruity smoothies. Still, of course, she only wanted sips from Ray's cup. It tasted better since it was his, and it helped that he looked extra hot in his tight, long-sleeved shirt.

"Miles got hurt, and she doesn't even care!"

"You know, darlin', if she weren't all melty, I'd pick up that ol' bag by the hair on her feet and toss her on outta' here..." the hero spat as he curled an arm around her shoulders, sneering at the sight of Mama Schwoz's hairy toes.

Mika listened to them carefully, but there was something strange about the girl. The typically chatty girl barely answered anything, sticking to yes and no only. Apart from that, she kept herself to herself—most un-Mika-ish.

"But there's no point in wishing. She's obviously melting away..."

"Obviously!" Mika agreed, but she drew a confused yet concerned glance from (y/n) at how weird she sounded, digging her nails into her palms as she battled to keep herself quiet.

"I mean, it's not like she's lying or anything."

"You okay there, Mika?" The heroine asked when a pained moan fell from the girl's lips, sounding like she'd taken a knife to the heart.

Still, Mika smiled through the pain, wishing to tell her friend what she saw, but that would be snitching. So, her lips were sealed.

"I am perfectly fine and well."

"Okay...if you say so," (y/n) muttered, giving her a puzzled, suspecting side-eye, but she didn't press it, not when Schwoz padded over with a distraction.

The genius carried a clear, plastic straw - at least ten feet long. It stretched from Mama Schwoz's bed right over to the steps where they sat. Ray watched in horror as he directed the tip into his smoothie from Hip Hop Purée - the one (y/n) held in her hands after a quick sip.

"Mama Schwoz would like a liiiiiiitle sip of your purée!" He said brightly, ignoring or not seeing his boss's dark expression or how offended his wife looked when she watched him dip the enormous straw into the orange, mango-pumpkin-flavoured drink.

(y/n) couldn't help but pout; she was the only one who stole drinks in these parts.

"Of course, she would." Ray glowered, watching his purée disappear from the mason jar glass, zipping through the straw across the room and into his enemy's mouth. But she didn't just take a sip like Schwoz said she would - that would be too easy.

Mama Schwoz sucked and sucked with all her might, lips smacking and squelching around the straw until she had drained all the juice from his glass. She didn't even leave them a drop to moisten their tongues.

"Aw... There's none left," said (y/n) sadly, and seeing her quivering bottom lip was a step too far for Ray.

"All right! That's enough!" Exclaimed the hero as he smacked the straw away and dramatically stood up.

"Raymond..." (y/n) said warningly, grasping his bicep to pull him down onto an office chair with her when she saw everyone's shocked faces. Mama Schwoz smirked but thankfully relented, ditching the straw since she'd had her fill, and at least the doofus could return to his wife to sulk.

"Ugh... I thought we were going to listen to your dang horse race," mumbled the hero as he clutched his thumping temple.

The last thing he wanted was to listen to some stupid commentator rambling about horses, but whatever Mama Schwoz wanted, she got... All Ray could do was put his arm back around his precious girl and think happy thoughts.

"Ooh, it starts right now!" Schwoz exclaimed happily and bounded over to his mother's bed, where he quickly turned the radio on over the speaker system. Her eyes lit up upon hearing the familiar buzz of the wireless, and shockingly, everyone gathered around to see if she had made a winning bet.

"Here, in the fourth race at Swellview Downs, where everyone's talking about Three-Legged Dreamer!"

"Oh! Three-Legged Dreamer! That's my boy!" Said Mama Schwoz with a beaming grin as she clutched all the receipts she'd received from the bookies, detailing all the money - and there was a lot - that she'd placed on her favourite horse.

"I thought I was your boy..." Schwoz replied sadly, but his mother was not as lovely as she seemed. To say she cherished her son, she did not flinch when she pushed him off the bed, more interested in the radio and her winnings than her own flesh and blood.

"And they're off!"

"Kill me now..." muttered (y/n), and she rested against Ray's chest after sitting on his knee in the chair, closing her eyes to drown out the infernal babbling of the commentator.

She wasn't one for gambling or anything Mama might have liked, and her husband was too comfy to focus on anything else. He pulled her in close, rocking her like a baby and pressing a kiss to her forehead that had her smiling softly, which made the hero happy.

Mika, on the other hand, was not so content. As the horse race commenced, she was in a world of her own, pondering about her predicament.

The angel on her shoulder said lying was wrong, even if she technically didn't say anything. Withholding the truth was still dishonest, but the devil within said that wasn't such a bad thing. If she grassed on Mama Schwoz, it would be a social disgrace, and her reputation would be in tatters...

It was like a war was waging in her mind, making her grit her teeth and wriggle on the spot until she couldn't take it anymore. She tried to bite her tongue—she really did—but it all just came tumbling out.

"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" She yelled, storming past Ray and (y/n), who broke out of the nap/cuddle-fest with deeply disturbed looks.

All eyes were on the girl as she plodded over to the bed and turned off the radio, glaring at Mama Schwoz because she would no longer keep her dirty secret. She had messed with the wrong snitch.

"Hey, what did you do that for?!" Her friends asked angrily, having been on the edge of their metaphorical seats since they might have made a few bets themselves...which (y/n) definitely couldn't know about.

"I'm sorry!" Mika told them sharply before her gaze returned to the old woman on the bed. She squirmed nervously, wondering if she would actually tell them what she saw that day. "But you guys need to know something about Mama Schwoz!"

The woman looked at her angrily, clicking her tongue soothingly as if Mika were another of her beloved horses. She even reached out, pretending to stroke her, whispering calming words that did nothing to quell the girl's rising fury. "Easy now..."

"Mama Schwoz is not sick! She's faking!" But Mika did not care. Gasps echoed around the room at her accusation. Mama Schwoz squeaked when pairs of shocked, furious eyes turned on her - the not-so-innocent liar.

"Don't listen to her!" she begged her new friends—or servants—and even her son looked disgusted, not wanting to believe the truth.

"What are you talking about?!" Asked Chapa, watching Ray and (y/n) jump up from the office chair. The man's face was like thunder, eyes burning holes into Mama Schwoz because he had finally discovered some dirt on her.

"Her bones aren't melting! I caught her dancing yesterday!" Said Mika, and suddenly, everything made sense.

(y/n) realised why she had been acting so weirdly, keeping such a big secret to herself just to protect that woman's dignity--maybe she even blackmailed her. And that just made her hate Mama Schwoz even more.

She's getting everyone to do her errands, and you know what? I don't care if you call me a snitch--she's faking!"

"Mama?" Schwoz asked timidly as his mother clapped slowly, her formally cheery face now a sour frown.

"She's slow-clapping!" Miles gasped, pointing at the woman on the bed, who wasn't so friendly now that they'd discovered her dirty lie.

"That means...Mika is right!"

"She's faking!" Bose agreed with the boy and Chapa, looking more pensive than usual. If anyone looked close enough, they'd possibly see steam coming from his ears. "I think..."

"Mama?" Schwoz asked again, desperate to hear the truth from his mom's mouth as she hadn't said anything in her defence yet. But Mama Schwoz still didn't reply; instead, she slammed her betting slips onto the bed, peeled back the sheets, and, to everyone's surprise, slipped out of bed.

"Okay, fine...I don't have melty bones," she conceded, using strong arms to step onto sturdy legs that didn't crumble or shatter when she stood on them.

"I'm as healthy as a three-legged horse!"

"Three...legged?" (y/n) muttered, trying to understand, but it was Schwozish logic.

"I knew it!" Ray seethed, pointing a stern finger at the unimpressed Mama Schwoz.

"No, you didn't!" She argued, knowing the idiot was too stupid to see through her deception and he had been too busy tripping over his wife's heels like some lovesick moron. The poor girl.

"Yeah, I know..."

"And I would've gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for this meddling snitch!" She hissed, shaking her fist at Mika, not that the girl cared. Or rather, she did, but only because she'd done nothing wrong.

"Don't make this about me! You were lying the whole time!"

"Well, I had to!" Mama Schwoz cried, suddenly looking distraught as her teary gaze turned to Ray. "He never lets my boy come see me!"

"I give him one vacation day every ten years!" The hero argued, which didn't really help. (y/n) gave him a look that said to stop being childish. Still, her doofus felt emotional and protective and abandoned - too many childhood problems to go into now.

"Doofus, we've talked about this..."

"That's it! I'm going home!" Mama Schwoz muttered, ignoring anything the man or his wife had to say because she knew he would never change. Instead, she hurried over to her son, gesturing for her to follow him since Ray would never fully appreciate him—and she'd seen how he treated him.

"Schwoz, you're coming with me!"

"He's not going anywhere!" Said Ray angrily, and as Mama took one arm, the hero took the other. They played Schwoz In The Middle, tugging the poor genius back and forth, and his heart did not know where to go, feeling loyalty for both sides.

"You don't even appreciate him!" His mother cried, infuriating Ray and all his childlike emotions. Just because he didn't show it didn't mean he didn't love Schwoz...in a weird sort of way.

"I don't appreci--I don't appreciate him?!" The hero gasped, and he managed to wrench his handyman away from the woman and over to his side of the room. "Schwoz, cover your ears!"

Ever loyal, the fuzzy coconut slowly did as he was told, and just for good measure, Ray clamped his hands on top of his to ensure he couldn't hear a thing. Schwoz was unsure what was happening - no one did, not even (y/n) - but Ray looked desperate, and Mama Schwoz was not the only one in the room crying.

"I love this man with the last part of my heart that doesn't love my sweet girl!" He sniffed, making (y/n) put her hand over her chest, feeling all warm and gooey inside.

"And there's a reason I don't give him any days off work! 'Cause I can't live a day without him! He is my second rock! He is my second shoulder to cry on! If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have married the girl of my dreams!"

"Schwoz has seen us through a lot..." his wife said, and she felt the same.

For all his quirks, Schwoz's presence and dependability were a constant part of their lives; even Mama Schwoz couldn't dispute that, and (y/n) knew she wouldn't have stayed with Ray if he hadn't steered them into a relationship.

"But if I tell him that, I'm afraid he might gain the self-confidence to leave me for somebody who might treat him the way he deserves to be treated—you know, like a human."

"Ray...you are a complicated man," Miles said, slightly disturbed at the man's confession, which sounded like Schwoz was more a pet than a friend.

"You're straight up toxic, m'dude..." Chapa added as she folded her arms and observed the man-child, whose wife frowned upon hearing that.

"No, he's not..." argued (y/n), coming to stand protectively beside her deflating doofus and placing her hand on his bicep.

"Okay, maybe he's a little emotionally constipated, and he has daddy issues up to his ears, but he's actually very caring in his own way."

"Why are you talking about daddies, (y/n/n)?" An innocent voice cut through the awkwardness, and the heroine looked at the genius with warm cheeks when she realised that he'd shaken away the hands over his ears.

"Uh..."

"Forget about that, Schwoz! I said you're staying here..." Ray quickly covered for his sweet girl, his hand grabbing hers and squeezing it like a lifeline. "And if anything, I overpay you!"

"Why don't you just be honest with him, doof?" Asked (y/n) gently as Ray turned away from the group, not wanting to see his friend's disappointed countenance or his sidekicks' shameful gazes.

"Let him know how much you care."

"And what good would that do, sweet girl? He has to stay--everyone else has left!" (y/n) didn't quite understand what he meant by that, squinting in confusion when Mama Schwoz swaggered behind them, practically snarling after overhearing every, little, intimate word.

"If you want my Schwozie to stay, you have to fight me for him!" The old woman decreed, and in a fit of unmelty heroics, she did a series of cartwheels and flips across the room to where the couple stood.

Ray, who turned his back on her, did not take the threat seriously. He wondered what a short, elderly pensioner could do to him—a superhero. He scoffed at the idea of an attack, but when he and (y/n) faced her, he got a nasty surprise.

A zipper kick, straight between the legs.

"Raymond!" Miss Danger gasped as her husband sank to the ground, hand braced on his...area, howling in pain. Yet Mama Schwoz wasn't finished, and (y/n) couldn't do anything but dodge out of the way when she used the hero's back like a vaulting horse, spinning around for another run-up.

"Doofus, look ou--" Another kick landed on the middle of his spine, sending the boneless hero to the floor, groaning at his sidekick's feet. "Out..."

"Did you know your mother was like this?" (y/n) quietly asked Schwoz as they observed the twirling woman, who didn't even throw a hip out as she did all her acrobatics. She was surprisingly flexible.

"Oh, yah. It's very common amongst my people..." answered the genius, who smiled proudly at his mom, even if she did look like a wild, snarling animal.

"All right, Granny Devito..." Ray hissed after getting to his feet. Fortunately, thanks to his indestructibility, he could shake off the pain as quickly as she hurt him. The others watched as he flexed his muscles and fists, readying himself for a proper attack. "It's on!"

He charged at Mama Schwoz, throwing a fist that could have stunned even the most brutal of villains, but it was like the woman had trained with the best. She blocked every attack, ducking and weaving so the hero swung at thin air.

"Dude, they're fighting over you!" Bose whispered excitedly to Schwoz, whose face was cheery and rosy from such flattery; he wasn't used to it.

"I know!"

"If I had any money left, I'd bet on your mom," said Chapa, earning a grumpy glance from (y/n).

She had faith in her doofus, knowing he was the greatest fighter in Swellview, even if he was currently getting his ass handed to him by a freakishly strong old woman.

"Should we stop them?" Asked Mika, wincing as her boss received another harsh kick to his stomach.

"Ehhhh...not yet."

"Schwoz!" (y/n) exclaimed, watching as the woman left her husband a panting, sweating, aching mess, crumple in half as agony rippled through his abs. It faded, of course, but she still hated seeing him struggle, and it didn't help how Schwoz was enjoying it. "She's wiping the floor with him!"

"Don't worry, sweet girl. I can handle anything!" Ray replied when he overheard her hissed words, giving his beloved wife a wobbly grin. Yet, strangely, he had a few seconds of respite, allowing his body to recover from the onslaught.

"...Where did she go?"

He shouldn't have asked.

A hiss from above made them look up at the ceiling, a sheer rock face carved from the mountain to accommodate the Man's Nest. Mama Schwoz had managed to scale the vertical wall like a bat or supernatural creature.

"How'd she get up there?" Ray wondered, observing how her claw-like hands and ape-like feet gripped a craggy overhang, allowing her to hover above them all.

"That is terrifying." Miles took the words out of everyone's mouths, a terrified glint shining in his eyes at how unnatural the woman was - almost troglodytic.

It was worse when she dropped from the great height, knocking Ray to the floor. Another panicked gasp left (y/n) as the kids groaned sympathetically, but that was before she started punching the doofus across the face.

"Okay, okay! I can't take this anymore!" (y/n) said furiously, and she dashed over to her husband to prise the bitch from atop his limp frame by her hair. "No one punches my doofus' beautiful face!"

The kids helped, peeling Mama Schwoz away from Ray, but not before (y/n) managed to rip a few silver strands from her fuzzy head. It was ridiculous to separate grown adults from a fight, yelling and grappling to keep the heroine under control when she slipped past Ray and head-butted the one who hurt her husband.

"(y/n/n)! That behaviour is beneath you!"

"She started it!" She argued, pointing an accusatory finger at Mama Schwoz, who would secretly admit that she preferred Miss Danger as a worthy opponent.

Still, the children pushed the girl and her beloved doofus together, allowing the woozy idiot to lean against her for support. "I would have happily talked it out, but she threw the first punch!"

"(y/n)...Ray...I love both of you," Schwoz told them, smiling when his old friends glared at him and his quick-fisted Mama.

"Yes! We win, sweet girl!" Ray yelled, hugging his wife tightly and sneering at the old woman victoriously. "Bye-bye! Bye-bye now!"

"But I think it's time for me to go home."

"HA!"

They probably would've heard the hero's heart break if the room was silent. They couldn't since it was Mama Schwoz's turn to taunt him, but all smiles and laughter left the couple's faces, bewildered by Schwoz's admission.

"What? You're just gonna...you're just gonna leave us?" Ray asked incredulously, feeling the tears pooling on his lashes.

"It's time. I need to go home and be with Mama," answered the genius, much to his mother's delight. She wasn't graceful in victory, however; she hated Ray far too much for that. Instead, she laughed in his face, cruelly elated to see the genuine sorrow on his face.

"Ha! Go Mama, go Mama, go Mama!"

"All right, we get it!" (y/n) snapped at her while rubbing soft circles on her doofus' back, knowing he would take it harder than her. The loss of Schwoz made her want to cry, seeing as she hated goodbyes. "You get to take him home, so you don't have to rub it in!"

"No, no, darlin'. It's great!" Ray sniffed, an ugly sob leaving his lips as his face twisted into a melancholy frown. "Jasper, Charlotte, Henry, and now, Schwoz, too! It's fine!"

"Oh, Raymond..." his wife muttered gently, but it was too late. Ray slipped from her embrace and walked over to the empty bed, flopping onto the mattress for a little weep. It was the story of his life; everyone he grew to love left eventually, and he would be all alone.

"Schwoz, is this really goodbye? After all these years?" She asked her favourite fuzzy coconut, but something about the sadness in his eyes that mirrored her own told her the answer.

"Yes. Like I always say, family first," he replied, wrapping an arm around his mother, who, like always, spat her vitriol in their direction, no matter if she was flanked by the kids.

"Get wrecked, suckers!" Mama Schwoz said spitefully, but they tried to not let it spoil their final moments together.

"We're gonna miss you, Schwoz," said Miles, and his friends agreed. Compared to their teachers, they'd barely known him at all, but they grew to love the bald, little weirdo. Him and all his quirks.

"Bye..."

"Adiós..." Bose and Chapa sadly waved him goodbye, and Schwoz did the same.

He wished Ray would come over so they could part ways on good terms, but the hero was too busy trying to hide his trembling shoulders and wet cheeks. So, (y/n) settled it for them, stepping forward and pulling the genius into her warmest, cosiest squeezes.

"Last hug..." The heroine whispered, feeling those little arms wrapping around her body for the final time.

A tear slipped down her face, and she held him tightly for a few seconds. She tried to ignore the idea that this would be the last time she saw him—possibly forever. Schwoz, the guy who watched her fall in love and get engaged—the guy who officiated her wedding, for God's sake—wouldn't be there for anything else.

"Schwoz!" The moment was ruined when a rough hand pulled him away, back into the cold, bony arms of Mama Schwoz. Oh, she was loving this. "How are we getting home?"

"We'll take the helicopter to my rocket to my spaceport..." he replied, opening the door for his mom as she happily skipped away, never looking back at the Man's Nest now that she had her boy right where she wanted him. "Then, over to La Cienega, where it hits the junior high..."

And just like that, Schwoz was gone.

"Doofus, are you okay?" (y/n) asked her lover quietly. She walked over to the bed and sat beside him. Wet streaks ran down the man's cheeks, and the minute she was close enough, he pulled her into a painfully tight embrace.

"Don't leave me, sweet girl..." Ray begged, and the mournful expression on his face made the woman's heart ache for him.

She wrapped him up in her arms, pressing smoochy kisses to his temple, and not even the kids had it in them to mock the man for it. They watched as he cried into his wife's shoulder, terrified that, one day, she would decide to leave, too.

"I'm not going anywhere, Ray, remember?" (y/n) promised, flashing her wedding rings, allowing them to rest coolly against his hot skin. That seemed to calm him down slightly, enough to stop the sobs, but the hero glanced up at his four sidekicks, looking like a kicked, snotty puppy.

"Do any of you know how to make science devices?" He asked woefully.

"I can learn if (y/n/n) teaches me," Mika replied hesitantly, although the woman didn't look too sure. She could solder and make some cool weapons. Still, compared to Schwoz and his science-defying creations, she was a mechanical idiot.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to get the old textbooks on quantum mechanics out again..."

"Do any of you guys know how to scratch my back just the way I like it for when my sweet girl isn't around to do it?" The doofus asked again, his voice becoming strained and thick with emotion the more he recalled his beloved handyman.

Deep down, he adored that fuzzy weirdo, knowing he was like the second crutch that kept the hot mess that was Captain Man upright, and now, he was gone.

As Ray pressed his hands to his eyes, hoping to stem another flow of tears, (y/n) hugged him tighter, burying her face into his shoulder lest he set her off, too. She couldn't see a thing, not even the looks on her babies' faces, when an overall-wearing, bald-headed, coconut-like, tiny man wandered over the bed.

"You mean like this?" An accented voice asked, tiptoeing over to the melancholy couple like a stealthy cat. His nails raked down the hero's back, making his hair stand on end, his leg shake and tingles run down his spine.

"Oh, that's perfect, actually..." Ray groaned, stretching his spine and shuddering from the shooting pleasure. "Thanks, sweet girl."

"That wasn't me, you big doofus..." (y/n) replied breathlessly.

If she hadn't been stunned, she would've been offended that he thought that was her voice after thirteen years together. But she could hardly breathe, staring at the cheeky, grinning figure looming over her doofus.

Ray frowned at her words, but then he noticed how her hands were neatly folded in her lap, which begged the question - who was scratching his back? His head snapped toward the scratcher, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he saw Schwoz standing over him.

Looking as Schwozish as ever. Very much real. Not a hallucination.

"Schwoz?!"

"We thought you were leaving with your mom!" Mika exclaimed, and like everyone else, she was thoroughly confused at his apparent magic trick.

"I did!"

"But you're here!" Chapa said, wondering how he could stand there so calmly when they bordered on grief and elation. Ray, for once in his life, was speechless, holding his wife's hand to prove that he wasn't suffering from some misery-induced dream.

"I know!"

"I'm so confused!" Miles muttered, although his smile really told of his pleasure at seeing the genius again.

"I just figured it out!" Bose announced, words that had never left his mouth before and probably never would again, given that his deductions were almost always wrong.

"The real Schwoz has been inside of us the whole time!"

"That is a disgusting thought..." (y/n) said dryly, hating to think where the small man would be if he was... She didn't even want to think about it.

"No, the Schwoz who just left with my Mama was my clone!"

"That makes more sense..." said Bose, who stared blankly at Schwoz, accepting his answer. Everyone else was still just as lost.

"You had a clone?" Asked Mika confusingly.

"I used to..."

"Wait, wait, wait..." Ray butted in once he finally kicked his brain into function again. "You mean...you picked us over your own Mama?"

"Like I always say..." Schwoz smiled softly at him and (y/n), looking both happy and sad since he loved his mother, but those lovesick idiots couldn't even confess without his help. "Family second."

"Oh, Schwoz... You're going to make me cry!" The heroine exclaimed, fanning her teary eyes as she skipped forward and pulled the genius in for a hug—and she was glad to say it wouldn't be the last.

The kids cooed, watching the little man snuggle further into her cosiness. Just for once, Ray allowed someone else to enjoy his wife's warmth, silently relieved that their small unit would remain unchanged, just as it had done for over a decade.

But, when Danger Force decided to get in on the action... Well, that was a step too far.

"Not so fast!" He said, holding the children away from the hug and making his handyman and wife separate, too. They looked at him in confusion, wondering why he'd want to ruin the tender moment, but Ray looked mischievous. "We still have one little thing to take care of first."

"What are you talking about, doof?" (y/n) frowned in confusion, only for Ray to curl an arm around her waist and smirk.

"Schwoz..." he said, grinning from ear to ear since it was just like old times. "Pull up the Snitch Board."

"WHAT?!" Mika gasped as her surrounding friends cheered, loving how he had not forgotten. Ray was a doofus, but when it came to tomfoolery and grudges, he had the memory of an elephant.

"Ya' snitched," he told the outraged girl, even as his pretty girl shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Because she was taking advantage of my friends! I snitched for you guys!" Mika argued, looking around at Chapa and her twin, but they offered no support. If anything, they were looking forward to seeing her humiliated - all in good, clean fun.

"And we appreciate that." Ray smiled as Schwoz turned the holographic monitor on, reminding the girl of how she teetered on the edge of punishment.

And there they were. The genius held the shoebox of disgrace, and she shivered when she remembered the disgusting things lurking inside. The thing that would soon be upon her feet...

"But the rules is the rules. You snitch. You wear the Shoes of Shame."

"Those are so hideous..." (y/n) remarked as her doofus opened the box and plucked the plain, greyish-white sneakers. He held them like they had cooties, keeping them as far away from his body as Mika stepped forward to reluctantly take them.

"Fine!" She snapped, glaring at her friends, who all jumped away when the shoes got closer. They watched as she sat on Schwoz's toolbox-on-wheels and removed her cute sneakers, ready to wear the not-so-cute ones. "I don't care what you guys think! I did the right thing!"

"You tell 'em, Mika!" (y/n) chirped, knowing she'd throw the shoes in the incinerator once her doofus wasn't looking.

She'd also congratulate the girl for standing up for herself - a brave thing to do when it meant going against her friends. Still, for now, she had to wear the disgusting pumps and tolerate their mockery.

"Shoes of Shame! Shoes of Shame! Shoes of Shame! Shoes of Shame!"

When Ray started the chant, everyone else couldn't help but join in. They gradually got louder as the girl tied her laces, hating how annoyingly comfortable the sneakers were - well, for something that ugly, there had to be a benefit somewhere.

"Y'know what? These shoes aren't that bad!" She told them, trying to block out the chanting as she stomped around in the fresh, plain memory foam. "I love how white they are!"

"Shoes of Shame! Shoes of Shame! Shoes of Shame! Shoes of Shame!"

"Yeah, Mika. I know some super cool dads who wear those exact shoes..." (y/n) joked, unable to stop giggling when she heard the girl muttering--anything to kid herself into thinking they looked decent.

"Just who are these dads, sweet girl?" Ray mumbled into her hair as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, his tone hinting at jealousy and pettiness.

"Oh, you know, doof..." replied his pretty girl, whispering under the shouting as she leaned back against his chest. "Just some unattractive, undoofy dads that I have no interest in whatsoever, so stop pouting."

"Oh, well... That's okay, then."

Schwoz watched as his boss broke out into a lovestruck smile, loudly kissing the woman on her neck, which the children did not hear, thankfully. They were too preoccupied with teasing Mika, who had dramatically taken to lying on the floor and stamping her feet like a child in protest of the Shoes of Shame.

It was strange, but the fuzzy weirdo liked it. He laughed at the silly sight they made and didn't even mind how Ray smothered the poor girl.

To him, it was familiar and expected. It felt like home - like precisely where he belonged, with a man-child who openly adored his wife and no one else, that wife who adored everyone else anyway, and enough kids to cause no end of chaos.

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vegitoswife-archive · 1 year

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A/N: New indefinite fic project since, based on the last poll, a lot of people liked the idea of it! Certain parts may be chronological (which will be specified if so) but will in general be disconnected. Some parts may be lengthy, others short. It really depends on the prompt of them and what I can think up!

TAGLIST: @carnal-lnstinct / @yeowangies / @enayru (Like this post to be added to my tag list!)

Part 1 - Spending Time Together

CW(s): None.

★ VEGITO

-Despite how much he loved to train and exercise, you two actually got a lot of opportunities to hang around one another. Unfortunately, Vegito wasn’t really…used to it that much.

-All of Goku’s past friends very rarely sought him out for his company, his and Vegeta’s children all had their own lives, and he refused to go near Bulma or Chi Chi if he could help it, so he adapted to being alone virtually 24/7. Until you came along into his life, of course.

-He tried to hide it underneath his cocky and playful demeanor, but his fondness of you was incredibly obvious with how he sought out your company almost every day. You found it a little cute, but it additionally took on a different meaning when you learned that the chances of him being truly lonely were incredibly high. Too high. Even if he brushed off the questions, you could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t the happiest. Overall, it would likely do you both some good if you spent time getting to know one another better.

If you’re a practicing marital artist or someone who simply likes fighting, bonding with him over either or will be easy. Vegito would even be thrilled to spar with you, and see just how you’d fare against him.

If you have absolutely no combat experience, you could still have some engaging conversations with him over his own love of it. Being a Saiyan, he’s quite literally built for it. Vegito would easily get wrapped up in discussing his techniques and style, whether you understood the terminology or not, that he’d basically ramble with an enthusiastic shine to his eyes. It’s endearing.

-Outside of fighting-related activities, both of you would spend a lot of downtime in the comfort of your home. You have your own hobbies that you could try introducing to Vegito, but there’s a moderate chance depending on what they are that he either won’t understand them much or will think they’re a bit strange. Goku’s hobbies were very construction-based (the Son family’s home needed regular upkeep) and Vegeta…didn’t have hardly any hobbies at all, so Vegito wasn’t exactly dealt a deck of cards that helped him view the world outside the lens of a recluse. He was admittedly technology-inept on top of it.

-Don’t get him wrong, he likes to join you in doing things you find personal enjoyment in regardless of how weird or pointless they might come across as to him, but you’ll have to expect Vegito to be somewhat awkward with them…initially anyway. For example, he’s not going to be the best at playing a video game with you at first, but you’ll be surprised at how fast he can learn the ropes.

-If you’re an avid movie watcher, one activity you can always fall back onto with Vegito is sitting down on the couch and showing him the films you either like or think he’d get a kick out of. Especially those of the horror genre. He would be very amused in getting to see what typical things Earthlings define “horror” as being.

★ GOGETA

-If he’s not training, then chances are he’s with you.

-He honestly doesn’t really try to hide how much he likes being around you. He wouldn’t show it much on his face as he’s the stoic type, but if you ask him if he enjoys your company he’ll bluntly answer with something like “Yeah. Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

-He doesn’t talk to Goku’s past friends hardly ever, and he overall is a very reserved person. Being alone frankly doesn’t bother Gogeta much, but with you, the realization that ‘hey having someone else around is actually kind of nice’ lit up like a light switch had been flipped on. On certain days, he might even act like a puppy in a way. Just…following you around or just observing you quietly with a rather soft look.

-He’d like to learn about your hobbies, but if they’re tied to social media, he’ll definitely be staying out of them. He really values his privacy. If you’re into them: the only video games he’d ever be remotely interested in are puzzle games (especially the innovative types), but since those usually aren’t multiplayer you can’t count on him to play anything with you unless you catch him on a real good day & he feels like humoring you.

-Sure, it’s easy to discuss matters related to fighting with him, but you’ll find that he’s surprisingly very introspective; if not philosophical. There’s a lot on Earth and out in the cosmos that’s either barely known or utterly unknown. It’s not an uncommon thing to find the mysteries of life and existence itself engaging, and despite being one of the most powerful beings in the universe who has personally dealt with supernatural things, the same goes for Gogeta. His nature as a fusion already throws what’s accepted as “natural life” into disarray.

-It might be cliché, but he would greatly enjoy settling down with you somewhere quiet at night to stargaze or the like and chat with you about your own feelings about a variety of things. You can be a ‘deep thinker’ too or the sort who maintains a simplistic view of life, it won’t matter. He just wants to put in true effort to understand you, like how you do with him.

-Something else you may find surprising is that Gogeta does like to read. Have any books? You could lend one or more to him (don’t worry he’ll take good care of them) and see if they catch his interest. After he potentially finishes them, you could have discussions with him over them. Maybe he’ll have the same opinions as you, maybe not, or maybe you both could have fun ripping into the terrible story or characters.

-In general, your time with Gogeta will primarily be you both enjoying one another’s presence. Unless he feels up to talking, he’s content to merely sit or lie in silence with you. He doesn’t care for small talk, and definitely doesn’t need it to remain keen on sticking around you if you both aren’t doing anything at the moment. Expect most days to be relatively chill.

#my writing #boyfriend scenarios #vegito imagines #gogeta imagines #self shipping community #selfshipping #dragon ball fanfiction #vegito x reader #gogeta x reader #x reader

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pandorafallz · 8 months

Text

Lest We Rest Upon Our Graves | C2

The rest of the evening was not an improvement.

The words of So’lek lingered at the back of her mind beyond the migraine that had set up shop inside her skull. Nalin gave her something stronger than aspirin to take the edge off but it left her feeling…a little out of it as she returned to their sleeping area for…downtime away from everyone. It would be soon time for people to go to bed. Lest not risk running into Ri’nela and getting that promised ‘discussion’ from So’lek.

Alma took her place on the uncomfortable mattress of her bunk bed (the top half) only taking her boots and turquoise scarf off really for now before she’d chance into nightwear for the night; she just…needed her mind to wind down. Heal from the migraine and…let her rest. The pillow was lumpy and the springs dug into her spine but it didn’t…really bother her as she stared up at the ceiling. There were worse things in life than an uncomfortable mattress and pillow; the pin-prickling sensation ticked at her ribs almost like a reminder of that.

She didn’t know….what to do now. What could she do for the Sarentu kids if they didn’t want her involvement? She had nothing here she could give…or do. Not without her avatar; at least with that she had more freedom to go out and do something. She couldn’t do much as a human in the vast world of Pandora.

Alma sighed deeply, rubbing her eyes with her fingers.

Things were so much easier before… but she couldn’t take it back. She couldn’t help Nor… or Teylan with them gone. With Ri’nela, she would be the easiest to try to talk to and Kìoetey was busy helping the resistance to stick around much; exploring the world and sharing that with Ri’nela. They were close now, unsurprisingly so any conversation with one would certainly be heard by the other. Privacy with them was not a luxury any more, even if So’lek’s threat wasn’t keeping her away.

God only knew where Teylan ended up. He had liked it inside more than out; being out in such a vast world must be overwhelming and… she had heard Nor try and get him out to explore a bit before the bombing. Perhaps Teylan was at an abandoned RDA facility? Familiar enough for him to find comfort, she was sure. But which one, she had no idea. Kìoetey had destroyed a lot in the past few months.

She couldn’t bring Nor back and…she didn’t want to be the one to do that; he would surely bury his blade into her again if she tried. What would happen if he did come back? Would he kill her? Would the Resistance want him around still? Or was the murder of her avatar enough for the Resistance to keep him at arm’s length; in fear of him doing that to a human being? It…was a loss for the Sarentu, now that it was pointed out; so few of them left now.

There had been nine children taken back then. Not all of them survived TAP which…was her biggest failure. Useless to preserve the children she had had a part in taking.

Aha’ri had died at Mercer’s hands. Okni had died of sickness a year after Aha’ri’s death. Yuayt had lost the trust of his Sarentu friends; he had sold their escape plan out to the guards. According to the Security feeds, he had killed himself by running and attacking his guards till they shot him. The guilt of Aha’ri’s death had weighed the eleven-year-old down more than expected. More than what she expected from him.

Telisi and Yefti had been the last to die. Her fault, really. Faulty cryopods. She knew their remains had been recovered from the broken pods and buried outside of Resistance HQ in the Kinglor Forest.

Four of the nine Sarentu lived, but not enough for a full clan. Perhaps time would see people would leave their native clan and join the Sarentu; take the mark and live through new traditions for the growth and development of a new Sarentu clan to walk Pandora’s surface. People came and left their clans for another cause. She had learned from Jake that the Olangi clan had been absorbed into the Omatikaya with the reduced numbers following the battle. It wasn’t unheard of for it to happen the other way around.

What could she do?

Alma mulled, not getting out of bed as people came to bed; her bunk bed shifting as someone clambered into it with a heavy sign. Anqa.

A small idea came to mind. Anqa. A pilot. Someone who could take her to places. That…was a start. TAP Con-1 had become a dump site after they had left; used to hide the mess in the toxic smog they left to cover their tracks in that area of the world. Alma had left…many things there to hide them from Mercer…or maybe herself as well. Kept away but…maybe she needed to bring them back. The Sarentu deserved that at the least.

It was the only thing she could do, she supposed.

Anqa wasn’t there when she first woke up, her head pounding and her neck feeling stiff but Alma pulled herself together despite almost falling out of the top bunk; her balance wavering for a moment until her head cleared enough to walk straight. Hopefully, her head would clear up once she had eaten.

Her eyes searched as she walked through the Resistance Hideout, her eyes lingering on Ri’nela as they passed but the girl either didn’t see her or simply ignored her which ached at her heart more; solidifying that she had to make that trip. It could be the starting block to rebuild some trust.

“…s Cortez still in charge now? It just…still so sad and confusing” Priya’s concerned voice echoed from the kitchen but somewhat hushed still.

Her heart sunk into her stomach, her morning appetite vanishing instantly and replaced with unease and a low level of nausea. If Priya was questionable her place here and her leadership… then that was telling a lot about the minds of everyone else. Lovely.

“I know but Jake left her in charge for a reason, She’s been here far longer than anyone else, even me” Anqa’s voice echoed in soft reply. “We can’t forget that.”

“It’s just…hard. Knowing and…hearing all the bad things about what Mercer did in that school...and that she could have had a part in it…I can’t… I don’t know this other Alma. She’s…small. I miss her big and blue, you know.”

Anqa said nothing but there was another exhale that echoed before a soft slurp of a drink.

Alma waited for a few moments, taking the second to compose herself—pretend even that she hadn’t heard—before she strolled into the kitchen casually, not sparing them much of a glance but Priya stiffened right up in the corner of her eye as she opened the fridge, going simply for a protein bottle before she glanced to them, well, Anqa mostly.

“Anqa, will you be flying anyone out today?” Alma was glad for the strength in her voice, as she found that bottle of pills from the previous evening and swallowed two down quickly to get rid of the headache that was still pounding.

Anqa blinked, sparing a look to Priya then shook her head. “Er, no. We’re sitting low for now still. Priya’s still monitoring a few places that look suspicious. There’s an area in the Zeswa’s land that’ got a lot more…activity than usual.”

Alma nodded thoughtfully. “Priya, can you excuse us?”

Priya nodded swiftly, patting Anqa’s shoulder with a quiet goodbye and left like she had a viperwolf following her. Anqa stared at her for a moment with a slight indent between her eyebrows but didn’t break the quiet as Alma took a seat at the table, slowly uncapping her drink for a long draft despite her internal complaints.

“I need a ride to a place that’s… more off the books than usual.” Alma started after a moment, letting her drink settle for a moment. “I need you.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Look, I respect you as a leader but…I’m not helping you do more secret shit. We’ve had enough of that lately and I can’t have that heat when it all hits the fan. I am the only pilot here.” Anqa said tightly. “I can’t have people question my place by helping you do more shitty things.”

Alma flinched a little at her words. “I need to go to TAP Con-1, Anqa. It’s not for a selfish or shitty reason.”

“Why?!” Anqa scoffed a little, setting her hot tea down and sat up straight, “that’s worse than having a secret trip out. There? It’s a toxic cesspit.”

“It’s where….” Alma paused, her voice quieted so it didn’t travel, “It’s where I put Aha’ri’s ashes after her death. TAP Con-1 became a dump site for TAP because it’s generally inaccessible.”

Anqa’s face turned into an annoyed scowl which was unfamiliar to witness. “Oh…come on…” she groaned. “You want…Damn.” She swore lightly, but she looked less defensive. “Why did you put her there?”

“Mercer was going to toss her ashes into the industrial bin. I…I found out about Aha’ri’s death in the morning after the fact. I...couldn’t stop them from burning her but I stole and swapped out her ashes with cigarette ashes. I couldn’t keep them, so I paid off a few people to make the trips and I hid them until I could find a good time to bury her. I never got around to it..” The selfish part of her again hadn’t wanted to make that trip; it involved taking the resistance there; exposing the truth she hadn’t wanted to share.

Anqa looked at her shrewdly, her eyes looking passed her for a moment then she begrudgingly nodded after a moment of mental debate. “Fine. I can take you there but I’m not lying to anyone who asks.”

“Alright.” Alma agreed, that was fair. “You’ll need to cover your skin in sunscreen to block dermal absorption and put a new filter into your exo-mask to breathe past the toxic elements. When we get back, hot showers and wash your clothes.”

“Stranded Decom procedures, got it,” Anqa said, a tad more dismissively.

Alma felt relief blossom in her gut which was enough to ignore the woman’s unusual attitude towards her. She had a chance to…get some closure for the kids. Kìoetey at the very least would get her final goodbye with her sister. She…didn’t want to go back there but she had to make this effort.

That had to count for something. She could do that: force herself to do this and show them she what she was willing to do for them. Ri’nela may not accept her promises but… she had to start somewhere.

“Thank you.”

Alma was sure So’lek had noticed her change of demeanour and was suspicious about it however she had barely paid him any heed beyond letting him know of her and Anqa’s absence and that either he or Priya was in charge until her return. She could see the questions in his eyes as she left but he didn’t question it as Ri’nela had appeared so Alma had taken her chance to bail.

She had packed an empty duffle, a few snacks and a tablet and met Anqa in the Samson. Alma gave the pilot the coordinates and they departed the Resistance Hide out relatively quickly. Smoother sailing as any.

“We have to make two detour routes to avid RDA air patrol around the balloons,” Anqa remarked, her eyes ahead to the cloudy, open skies. “We’ll be there in two hours and seventeen minutes with those routes in place.”

“Alright.” Alma agreed.

Silence relapsed between and Alma kept her gaze turned out the cockpit to the beautiful serene view of the Clouded forest with quiet reverence and…sadness that she’d never get to breathe such smells of the world in again. Only the lingering scents in the airlock or…what was brought back as samples.

Silence lingered between them for a while and Alma felt Anqa look at her a few times in that first hour but didn’t question it for the sake of not opening a conversation that neither of them wanted to have.

“Why’d you do it?”

Alma jumped, her knee cracking against the Samson dash. “Sh—“ She stopped herself from anything more, almost hitting a switch or two, the ebbs of pain vanishing quickly from her knee aside from a low throbbing.

“Careful!” Anqa hissed, making careful adjustments. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you jump.” Though it didn’t sound too measured. “But, still. My question stands, Cortez. We knew each other from Hell’s Gate. Why did it take you 16 years to wait until Priya heard about TAP from intercepted chatter? Why didn’t you make an effort to see that those kids had survived than just your… assumption.”

“Mercer—“

“No. Don’t use him as an excuse.” Anqa shot down, “I want you to be real with me otherwise I don’t see why I should return you back! The Na’vi lost a whole Clan. The Sarentu lost their families because of what you and Mercer did. Why did you do it?”

Alma blinked at the woman in surprise at how… upfront Anqa was. She usually was more casual but this? This was cold and blunt. More so than earlier. She must have been stewing on these questions for a while. But, Alma knew she had to be careful with her answer, or lest be left behind. She knew Anqa made some passive threats before and often in jest but…she felt the difference in the woman’s attitude to feel the woman had an 80% of following through…for a little while. The woman might turn back for her if she did but… Alma wasn’t gonna brave those waters.

“I…didn’t believe the Na’vi were a…complicated and complex being when I first joined the RDA based on…a few of the Na’vi’s cultural differences. It was all I was exposed to. Mercer encouraged that belief many times so… We—or I—thought that we could…elevate and educate the Na’vi to the same level as humans that would… benefit each other.” Alma started carefully, very aware of how dry her mouth was with how tense Anqa’s grip on the stick was.

“You mean humanise them, using methods from a colonial mindset that had effectively washed away so many indigenous cultures in human history,” Anqa stated. “You must have known what Mercer was going to do when they refused? No clan just hands over their young by the demands from outsiders.”

Alma remained quiet for a moment, “I didn’t think it would end in a massacre.” She admitted, “I…I wondered why Mercer brought so many soldiers. I thought…at worst, they’d simply kidnap them and leave the adults alive—I know that’s not any better in hindsight but…I didn’t think it’d end so bloody.”

“I think that’s the problem, Alma. You didn’t think. You were ambitious enough to excuse a lot of shit for the sake of that damn school. Kids still got hurt, one way or another.”

“I know I failed them. I couldn’t protect them as much as I should have. I stayed in the TAP program to make sure all of them weren’t at the total mercy of Mercer or Harding. I couldn’t stop everything that they did, but I tried to minimise the damage afterwards. It was one of the few ways I could protect them. If I…showed them too much favour, Mercer would have had my ass out of the Program very quickly for being too sympathetic and emotionally compromised.”

Anqa stared ahead of her for a moment, mulling on her words.

Alma took a steadying breath, her nails digging into her palms.

“Why did you leave them behind?” Anqa’s voice was softer this time. “Sixteen years is… a long time, Cortez. Assuming them dead is not enough of an excuse.”

“I couldn’t get them out when the facility fell and the RDA evacuated. The RDA almost shot me in my Avatar because they thought I was a Na’vi. I couldn’t sneak the kids past the soldiers and there were too many eyes and ears. The cryo pods there an already evacuated area so that was the safest area to put them. I thought I had a few days for the dust to settle before I woke them up without having to sneak them out but… Mercer had the facility bombed. You know the rest.”

“You never once wondered?”

“I did.” Alma winced as she said this, “but… I was too scared to check…or to hope.”

“Because you’d wind up straight in this exact situation.” Anqa gestured to Alma as she said this, her tone incredibly dry. “I…hate everything you said but… it’s the most honest you’ve actually been.”

“The worst you’ll do is leave me behind.” Alma shrugged, trying not to sound self-deprecating or anything. “You won’t flat-out stab me.”

Anqa hummed in agreement. “I’m not a killer.” There was a pause, “Just…to clear something up, you’d survive long-term exposure to the toxic mess if abandonment was…necessary?”

“I am not gonna answer that question.” Alma gave her a stern look.

Anqa sighed with a disappointed nod “Fine, fine….” A beat passed, “I’m sure we’d find out sooner or later.”

“Anqa!”

The…tension between them was better marginally by the time they descended into the green smog and on top of the TAP-Con 1 facility and Alma soon realised the pilot was not going to leave her side as she masked up and pulled her bag on.

“Kìoetey said the RDA appeared after she had turned the power on but as long as we’re not powering anything on again, then we’re all good. It’ll be slow going. I hope you know where you’re going ”

“There’s vents and glass doors. We can use the fire extinguishers as our weapons of choice.” Alma said, leading the way out although through the filter were was a slight…eggy undertone as she breathed. Enough was being filtered out so she didn’t feel concerned about it.

There was enough debris to clamber into the building. The signs of AMP suits and…destroyed ones were a haunting sight and more so on the corpse that hadn’t been retrieved inside of one; the man’s remains inside the suit looked to be… well into decomposition but further along than normal and… she was certain the smog’s effects were the cause.

Her stomach turned a little more but she swallowed her unease and pressed on.

It was like a maze without the convenience of power. Alma welded a rather strong extinguisher and it took both their efforts to get through a door or two until Alma found the vent system she was familiar with.

“This way.” She felt her heart beat faster as she got passed the last vent and out to her old office though she didn’t look too hard as she went to the back wall behind all the desks that were opposite the glass wall that showed-cased their lab. She had a few co-workers stationed here back in the day but, they were long gone now. Her table was still cluttered. Never sought to clean it up.

“This is your office?”

“Yes. I hated it, the vents are massive given the Air Conditioning was in higher demand. I was always cold.” Alma said, kneeling down and pulled a small screwdriver out and began to take out one of the panels' screws. It was fiddly work but she had less to deal with this time around it took a thump with the extinguisher to lodge the panel out of place and she let it drop to the carpeted, mossy floor.

Inside, it wasn’t as nice but inside lay the case she had stashed away. It was a simple pelican case, like most of their supplies boxes and was heavily secured.

Anqa helped her pull it out but Alma had them stop before she opened it up with a thumb scanner.

“Fancy.”

“SID could hack this easily. Everyone had shit to hide back in the day. Most of them had porn to stash so no one cared enough to question.” Alma shrugged.

“Good Porn?” Anqa asked, curiously. “I bet some people could do with some…films to enjoy.”

“There’s a….storage cabinet for the technicians down, second left. They have…hard drives of data.” Alma directed, not willing to really go further into that. She wasn’t here for that, but having lived in Tap Con-1 for seven years prior to the school with thin walls…. She knew uncomfortably enough of her colleagues. Unfortunately, it was mutual.

Anqa nodded, debating for a moment then dashed off. “I bet I could get a few favours with those…” she heard the pilot muttered.

The box latches were undone quickly and Alma took a solid second before she braced herself and opened it up.

Inside, it was…as she had left it.

The urns were… not even urns. She had stolen the ashes and hidden them in the Tea, Coffee and Sugar containers from the more personal kitchen; they got replaced quickly so no one gave a fuck. It was the best she had in the circumstances she was in. Aha’ri was in the Coffee pot, Onki was in the sugar pot and Yuayt was in the tea pot. Her hands shook as she retrieved them from the case, making sure none were at risk of opening up and slipped them straight into the duffle along with her other Data drives she had stashed away.

Alma couldn’t help but slip out of the office and into the lab. Her eyes lingered on the old…grow tank that was stationed inside still. Her avatar’s grow-tank. The sight of it made her heart clench but… there was a relief; the sight of it was… opened up a sight of possibilities. A future choice if…she could convince the right people for it. Now wasn’t the time but… did the little ones survive? Were they still here?

Alma spared a look to the office, her hands gripping the screwdriver more tightly but she followed the route to the other side where there was the secondary storage—or more adeptly, cryostorage.

Without power, it took some brute force and pushing to get the door to open.

It wasn’t cold but…nor was it warm. The cool air tickled free against her exposed neck which almost sent a shiver down her spine. She was sure it smelt bad, most of the inside was…overgrown with plant samples, and biosamples. But Alma sought easily the heavy case inside. It was the only one that had this security.

Cortez. A

Alma was gentle as she pulled it from the shelf but she felt…a butterfly sensation as she unsecured it and opened it up. The case was cold, still functional—good to know the case’s own power supply was still going. These battery cells were the good kind for a goddamn reason. Inside the cases were four slots, but only three were filled with the small canisters. She pulled one out carefully, swallowing thickly but the little… signs of life were still there through translucent skin and…tiny, underdeveloped little arms with tiny, little fingers.

Her spare avatars. Still alive after thirty-eight years of cryo.

It wasn’t well known to most of the Avatar program, but the creation process was the most complex part of the Avatar’s existence. Hundreds of avatar embryos were created at a time for each driver but…about 97% of the embryos didn’t survive past fifty cells which was why so many were made. On average, four embryos survived to development to a three-month gestational age and one was carried on to full development. The rest were cryo-tanked. Cheaper to do it that way and, if the avatar died in transit or there was a fault, they had backup avatars to restart without the hassle of the conception again. Hers had never moved from storage, it seemed. How inconvenient to leave fifteen billion dollars behind in a rush. Alma couldn’t…help herself but feel a shred of hope. She…could have an avatar again.

One day.

Just not yet. She could wait.

Not to mention, they’d have to come back for the grow tank for that and necessary supplements for growth.

Once nerves had cooled, and she was on the road to forgiveness, she could broach the topic with the science team, maybe try and talk to Patel or Spellman if her scientists weren’t able or...willing to help. They had Dr Augustine’s avatar floating about still.

Alma set the tube back in and secured it, carrying it out to get her other bag, just in time for Anqa to return with a stolen bag of goodies that…looked more than just simple porn.

“I found some computer parts and wires we can use with the rest of all these things. A few radios and some avatar sizes tech for the resistance. Also, a few masks as well. Figured since I was there, looting is an option.” Aqua said, quite happy with her horde. “Got everything?” Her eyes flickered down to the new case she had but didn’t look too concerned or question it just yet. Thankfully.

“Yes,” Alma said, patting the duffle mostly. “Let’s get back.”

You know, i hadn't expected the amount of people to like it! so I'll progress it as a story. if you want, you can still view the first chap as a one-shot or stand-alone :)

#avatar #avatar au #avatar james cameron #alma cortez #frontiers of pandora #avatar frontiers of pandora #anqa #priya chen #so'lek #teylan #nor #ri'nela #sarentu

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