#Gotta love our men in stem

[bbeeew-boodles]

[monsieuroverlord]

NYX #1 Thoughts:

It was alright, very Kamala/Ms. Marvel and Sophie-focused. It was a decent set up of the premise, and I'll keep an eye on it.

Spoilers:

The Krakoan is Julian Keller/Hellion as everyone called it. Just in case anyone missed the leaks on Twitter.

Him and the rest of Cuckoos are apparently working with Empath, and the current implication is that he may be amping up and/or twisting their post-Krakoa emotions.

Anole, we didn't see much of, other than he's a bartender now.

Not only is David teaching, but he's also a tenure-track professor.

As someone who works for an American university, I'd be so curious to see how that happened. I mean, at least for the department I work for (very research-heavy stem field), its a LOT to negotiate tenure-track, even with years of experience and a Ph.D. Its like a 3-4 day marathon of presentations, wining-and-dining, meetings after meetings, tours, and a red-eye flight back home. You basically gotta meet everyone in our department and not only show that you know what you're talking about, but also that you won't be an asshole to the established professors (I know this, because I'm the one assisting in organizing everything and making sure the right faculty shows up on time to give a lab tour to the applicant, lol)

I think in some areas, you can get away with an M.S. degree for tenure, but in most cases, its Ph.D.

And that doesn't even mean you are guaranteed to get tenure. There's a whole other review process for that.

Anyway, Sophie is right to call it out here. It does kinda feel like a hand-out. I wonder if that will come into play later?

I'd like to see David's point of view first, though. Maybe there's a secret plot where some of the faculty are evil and its an anti-mutant trap to lure him into a false sense of security. But he's too smart for that and plays them. I don't know.

Or maybe he got his P.h.D. That'd be dope.

I don't trust David's new boyfriend. He hasn't said much yet, but I don't trust him.

This issue is heavily focused on Kamala's point of view, and strongly features Sophie as well. It makes sense, as Kamala is the "newer mutant" in a sense, and serves well to introduce the reader to the setting and potentional storylines to follow.

Sophie and Kamala also have a budding friendship, and I think it's very cute.

I think the next issue at least is supposed to shift to Laura's point of view.

We also don't see too much of Laura, and she didn't appear to be in the college class? Maybe she joins later, or is a guest speaker, I don't know. OR maybe she's going undercover?!?!

We did get this pretty image on the opening page:

Laura only runs into Kamala while she's investigating a mutant terrorist attack.

I love her new look so much. It's very fashionable and actually makes her look distinct from Logan while she's still clearly a Wolverine. Props to the designer.

And now Marvel needs to free Akihiro from Hellverine psuedo-death-ressurection and give him a unique outfit and/or codename too. Thank you.

Laura really only says this though:

I don't know how I feel about her characterization here. I mean, its not the worst thing, but it lacks context for me.

I mean, what is Laura doing? Where is Gabby? Is Akihiro still dead and she's surly with grief? (because Hellverine hasn't finished yet and we don't know how that will end) Does she feel like she has to pick up the pieces and play hero because Logan fucked off to the Canadian Wilderness again?

I have many questions about my girl and her general well-being.

In general, I'm currently on the fence about her characterization. It could go either way.

I suppose we'll have to wait until next issue ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In summary, it was a decent set-up. I read the X-Men Monday interview, so there was nothing that surprised me. Art is very good.

Also, this is me being a grumpy old bastard, but I hate the QR code pages they're doing now. Just print the damn page. I tried the scanner on both my phone and tablet, and it kept redirecting me to a broken link and I get a "500 Internal Error" message. I have no idea what that page is about. I personally don't like this concept of secret QR code pages and is irritating.

For digital reading, its more okay, but I also buy physical copies. I don't want to have to whip out my phone and/or tablet just for a gimmick to get the full issue. And who knows if the website eventually goes defunt years from now and then the QR codes are rendered useless. Then what?

[llynwen]

i wonder if rust's shred of sympathy for the perps in the interrogation room, even the worst ones, stems from his belief that they're trapped by time in a neverending repeat of their sins, sliding from guiltless childhood into adult iniquity over and over again

it's probably something along those lines, that fits into his whole life philosophy. he sees them the same as he sees himself - trapped in a never ending cycle of pain and misery.

i also think that it may come from the fact that he sees himself as a sinner, too. remember the "bad men" line, keeping other bad men from the door? unlike marty, he doesn't see himself as a 'good guy,' doesn't think he's better than the suspects. this job is a kind of self imposed punishment for his own sins. he identifies with the perps because he too is guilty, in his own eyes. that's also why he pulls that knife out of his body. he thinks he did the single good deed he was capable of - he solved the case, he killed the killer, now there is nothing else left for him to live for.

the whole interrogation situation is endlessly interesting, thank you so much for bringing it up. i love how those little details keep popping up, how even the littlest tidbit of the story can have such wast implications. i need to do another watch soon, this time focusing on all those minuscule aspects i might not have noticed before (did y'all notice how, even though he's a chronic insomniac, rusty does not yawn Once? in the whole show? i don't think he does, i gotta check though). thank you again for shooting me those asks, keep em coming. i love picking apart our little princess's psyche<3

[golbrocklovely]

Gotta be honest. Although seth comment was disgusting and as a women myself i would never want to hear such a thing being said about me… I don’t specifically like how in such Situations, people act as if they never said anything rude/mean/disgusting being around friends.

I’m not in any way defending seth, because although i like him in snc videos (cause he is one. Of those who take investigations rather more serious), i would have to be sick in the head to say that it’s nothing… But as you said … man joke about such things in their friend group ( cause well… those are man… simple people) and ngl women do that too. Maybe not as often as men do , but you really never heard from your friends how “she wish he could just f her” , how he “had a small d” how he “was so bad that i fall asleep” , “it lasted 2 minutes” , “with such a small equipment, he won’t do much anyway”??… i am a women and believe me that I heard those things and women just as men are capable of commenting disgusting things about men, just as men do about women .

So in my very personal opinion, although the comment was disgusting and so out of place , people should stop acting as if women do not do simmilar things … this comment should never be on camera, buT i just don’t like how people who ain’t exposed to the spotlight suddenly act as if they innocent, as if they are God creatures who are in charge of judging other people, when reality is that , if their conversations with their close friends would be recorded by someone , they would be under fire just As those famous people that they hate on daily basis and yell how they should be “canceled” for that.

I am just sick of hypocrisy as a women myself. Sorry not sorry.

i didn't want to say all of this, but… yeah. i agree with you.

i think my issue is - yes, seth's comment was gross. no one is saying otherwise or trying to argue against that whatsoever. but if we're all being honest, how often are you around other men, other ppl, that say mean shit about women? and when that happens, do you call it out? bc i know for a fact i don't always do that. bc sometimes it's easier to just… side eye the person and move on. sometimes it's not worth fighting or arguing bc it can become a back and forth of "oh it's just a joke" and "no it's not bc it's harmful" and it's not worth it.

bc here's how i see it and i totally get that some WILL NOT see it this way and that's totally fine: men, to me, appear on a spectrum of least dangerous to most dangerous. the least dangerous are the ones that genuinely love women, that care for us, that do their best to call out shit when they see it. all the good stuff. the dangerous ones are the incels, the andrew tates of the world, right?

but then collectively, most men, fall in the middle. and they can go either way sometimes. these are the men worth talking to, educating - but only if that's something you want to do. as a woman, i shouldn't have to argue with others as to why our existence is important or valid or worth respecting. it's exhausting and shouldn't have to be the case. but reality is, these same middle men also live in the same society we live in. it's a patriarchal one that ALLOWS and ACCEPTS hate towards women. but bc it's so embetted in our society, most don't realize how deep it runs. so they say things nonchalantly or in a joking manner, not realizing there is a history behind those statements that stems back far enough to our oppression.

(and of course this whole argument doesn't even get into poc women and how they are treated, in just america alone, but i think you all get my gist)

i say all of this bc… i don't see seth as being the next andrew tate or some shit. while what he said was harmful and gross, it's clear there wasn't true malice behind it, at least to me. he's just another man saying another dumb thing about women. it's sad, but it's reality. same with colby "agreeing" and sam saying nothing in return. men don't call out other men most times. and to put them on this pedastal when most women don't do that to other men is a bit hypocritical.

the best we can do in situations like this is tell seth "hey what you said wasn't nice" and i think collectively most of us have done that. he's also now apologized to both kristin publicly and privately and to us (which personally i don't think he had to do in the first place but it's fine that he did it regardless). and now, we see if he actually learned anything. give him the grace to grow and be better. bc again, i don't think he's an awful man. he's just… a man.

[loliwrites]

Not sure if you’ve written anything about this before but I had some thoughts today about Alex’s hands and how powerful they can be 🤤 but like imagine Addi ‘trying’ to overpower him when they’re having fun bedroom times and he amuses her for a while but she’s gets a little cocky and he just grabs her arms and throws her under him and he’s like ‘mmm I don’t think so, not today’ 🤤🤤🥰 - 🐙

Oh Squuuuuuuid. We have this one thing about his hands, but that doesn’t really deep dive this situation.

I have a massive size kink so I’ve not-so-subtly written into this weird world of ours that the size difference between our two lovebirds is significant. And yeah, I leave a lot of physical attributes of Addi up to interpretation. She can look like whatever you want her to look like. All I’ll say to the subject is our girl is short. And what is considered short when the man is 6 foot tree? Is short 5′2 and some change, or is it 5′8? Both are short comparatively to Alex. 

Anywho. HANDS.

Being short, Addi knows that if she’s ever going to assert a sort of sexual dominance over Alex, she relies heavily on his cooperation. She’s not going to be able to pin his hands down unless he allows her to pin his hands down. Yes, I know women are strong. Don’t come @ me. But an aspect/source/etc. of our oppression as women stems from men generally being physically stronger than women. That if a man wanted to do something, he could. And that’s absolute shit, but that’s another soapbox for another time. Iliza Shlesinger has a joke about this (I think in her Confirmed Kills Netflix special) where she says something along the lines of “if women were as physically strong as men, do you think we would’ve waited for the right to vote? GET OUT OF THE WAY JEDIDIAH, MAMA’S GOTTA GET TO THE POLLS.”)

Again, anywho. Alex. Hands. Cooperation. Yes. 

It’s not often, but Alex does give her his cooperation. He really gets off on being the dominant one sexually but he’s also very aware that there are some nights when Addi wants to be the one in charge. He usually recognizes a particular glint in her eye that cues him in on when that is. Sometimes it’s because she just had a badass boss babe day and is feeling herself and her power. And sometimes it’s because she had a day where she had no power and is looking to gain some of it back. Sure, sometimes he’ll do that thing where he pushes back on her grasp a little bit, acting like he’s trying to get free. But they both know what’s up. They both know that if he was so inclined, he could free himself and have her restrained instead within a matter of seconds. 

Some nights though, he sees a glint in her eye but it’s not set in stone. It’s there but she’s not holding too tightly to the idea. On those nights when she tries to restrain him (or on a night where she’s just doing this so a flip will switch in him and send him reeling), he gives her no cooperation. He fights with her frantic clawing at his wrists and pins her down instead. 

That’s honestly next level for her. Because it honestly doesn’t matter what position they were or are in. If she’s on top of him and trying to hold his hands down, sometimes he’ll flip her over and secure her hands above her head with one of his. But sometimes... and potentially even hotter... he won’t even bother with that. He’ll simply raise himself to a sitting position with Addi on top of him and pin her hands behind her back. She loves that, oh she loves that. Because then that’s how the sex starts. And he’s so deep inside her and she’s at his absolute mercy. It’s nights like that where she gives actual thought to how internal combustion might be an actual thing.

GAH. I. SQUEE 🥵

[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Ch 13- We Don’t Get Along

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: The team undertake another mission, only this one doesn’t go according to plan putting the entire team in danger and Ari is left facing the fact that he might have pushed both Hannah and Sammy too far this time…

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairings: Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

A/N: Man it feels so GOOD to get back to this fic! We’re ramping up to the climax of the film now guys, so buckle up!

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 12 Part 2

A love like ours is love that's hard to find. How could we let it slip away? We've come too far to leave it all behind. How could we end it all this way? When tomorrow comes and we'll both regret, the things we said today.

  “Ari?”

Ari turned from where he had been helping someone across the sand to see a Navy Seal heading up the shore towards him.

“Yeah?”

“Here, this is for you.” The man handed him an envelope and Ari frowned. It wasn’t unusual for the Navy to sometimes bring messages and the like from home, especially as recently the stricter rules had meant that mail into Sudan from certain countries (Israel included) was being closely monitored, but still, he’d had a letter from Maya little over a week or so ago and wasn’t expecting another so soon.

“It's from your wife.” The seal continued, noting Ari’s hesitation and Ari reached out for the item in the man’s hand, glancing down at it.

“Thanks.” He folded the envelope and stuck it into his inside jacket pocket before he glanced up to see Hannah watching him, a confused expression on her face having clearly overheard the man refer to Sarah as his wife, which in fairness she still was as they weren’t divorced yet. But as he locked eyes with her, he saw the confusion slide into, well, hurt would be the most appropriate thing to describe it as and Ari, despite everything that was going on, let out a little groan. He hadn’t bothered to correct the man about Sarah and him being estranged because it wasn’t important all things considered.

Thankfully, Hannah shook herself out of her little moment and turned back to the task in hand which Ari was grateful for. This wasn’t the time or the place and he knew that Hannah would understand that. There were far more pressing things to deal with.

And those things got even more pressing when Max��s voice crackled over the radio.

“Guys, we have company.”

Ari froze, the radio in his hand as he hastily glanced around. “Say again?”

“We have company.”

Ari wheeled round and frantically began gesturing at the group of people on the shore line. “Go, go, go!” he urged, walking along the wet sand, his hand running through his hair as he looked up and over the beach. “What kind of company?” He asked, his voice urgent.

But the only response that came was Max cursing. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Military jeeps approaching from the North!” Max’s voice was clear but Ari could tell he was panicked “I see three, four jeeps.”

“Fuck!” Ari yelled, turning and gesturing to another Navy seal “Go, go, go, get on the Waverly!”

“Ari, what-” Hannah looked at him but before she could finish her sentence the sound of gunfire exploded across the night, sand scattering into the air as the bullets hit the beach all around them. Hannah gave a scream and ducked as Ari instinctively pulled her in front of him, placing himself between the oncoming fire and her.

“Sammy!” She yelled, looking around and Ari raised his head to check if everyone was alright. Jake was hurriedly shepherding a group onto one of the boats, helping push it out into the ocean, Sammy dodging around everyone trying to stop the panicking refugees from running away up the beach.

And then, one of the Navy seals gave a shout and dropped not far from where they were. Sammy paused and looked at the injured man, Hannah doing the same and they both ran towards him, keeping low.

Hannah was the first to reach him, and dropping to her knees she instinctively started to remove the man’s outer layer of clothing. “What's your name, soldier?” She asked, and when the man’s response was nothing more than a pained and panicked scream, she repeated her question a little more forcefully, trying to get him to stay conscious. “What's your name?”

“David.” He stuttered out, swallowing as he glanced up at her, his eyes wide with fright.

“David.” She nodded, her gaze not moving from his face as Sammy dropped to her side and immediately got to work, tearing off a sleeve from the man’s jacket and pressing it to the wound in his chest attempting to stem the blood. “Stay with us, okay?”

“You're gonna be all right.” Sammy nodded, before he looked up at Ari. “Get my bag, it's in the truck.”

“There’s no time!” Ari urged, ducking as another wave of bullets came flying their way. “We gotta get him to the Waverly.”

Sammy and Hannah exchanged a glance and Hannah took a deep breath.

“We’re sitting ducks out here, Sammy. His best chance is with the Navy medics.”

Sammy nodded and Ari grabbed one of the seals who had come running to help “Grab a leg!”

Ari and the Soldier lifted the wounded man, Sammy keeping his hand pressed over the wound in his chest as they made their way to the last waiting boat where they lay him down carefully with another seal.

“Hey, don't let go of this wound.” Sammy looked at the soldier who took over from him.

“Keep the pressure on even if your hand turns numb.” Hannah shouted over the noise, issuing instructions to the man in the boat. “You let go, he's dead!”

Hannah began to back away as Ari and Sammy gave the boat a shove, sending it over the beach before the three of them began to sprint up the beach, the bullets continued to fire into the air and sand around them. Ari shoved Hannah in front of him, yelling at her to keep low and not to stop, his heart pounding in out and out panic that she was going to get hit as they half ran, half stumbled to a cluster of rocks set a bit further up the beach, a little back from the shore line. Ari had no idea where Max or Jake had gone, he only hoped they’d found cover, but they were sensible guys, they knew the drill.

The three of them dropped into the shelter of the rocks, gunfire splintering shards off the boulders as they ducked, Hannah shrieking again as Ari once more twisted himself around her, one hand pushing her head down, the other curling around his own in a brace position.

“Dozen or so targets have been identified.” A Navy operative cracked on his radio. “Permission to engage.”

“No, do not engage!” Ari yelled back into his radio, desperate to try and keep control of the situation. “If you engage, it's all over. I'll handle it.”

“How?” Hannah screamed at him. “How the fuck are you going to handle this, Ari?”

Her eyes were wide with fright as he looked at her, swallowing slightly before he moved and took a quick look around at the approaching Sudanese Military.

“Do you trust me?” His chest heaved as he snapped his head back to look her in the eyes and she frowned.

“What? Yes, of course I do but-”

Before she could say anything else he grabbed her face, his large hands practically crushing her cheeks before he gave her a quick, furious peck on the lips and moved, tossing his radio onto the beach and covering it with sand.

“What are you doing?”

“Stay quiet and hidden.” He looked at her. “Once we’re gone, you find Max and Jake, and get back to the resort.”

“Ari, don’t you dare! I swear to fucking God if you leave-“

“Hannah for once in your life just shut up and do what I say!” He hissed at her, his face stern. At that he turned to Sammy “Follow my lead. “

“No, Ari-” Hannah began to protest but at that Ari stood up.

“Don't shoot, don't shoot!” He urged as he stepped out of the cover of the rocks.

“Sammy, please!” Hannah sobbed quietly as her brother dropped a soft kiss to her head.

“Do as he says, Han.” He urged before he too stood up and walked towards Ari, his hands held either side of his head.

“My name is Guy Thomas!” Hannah could hear Ari shouting. “From the Red Sea Diving Resort. We have tourists on night dive. What are you doing? Where's your commander?”

There was more shouting, and angry yelling and Hannah clamped her hand over her mouth, her body shaking uncontrollably as the tears poured down her face. She fought to keep the sobs from escaping her mouth, as she flattened herself back into the rocks as the shouting grew quieter and quieter. Eventually she heard the slamming of truck doors and the sound of engines as the vehicles tore away from the beach, and then there was nothing but the noise of the waves crashing against the shore.

Her chest felt tight and she was struggling to breathe, like her airway had been cut off. Scrunching her eyes closed, she hugged her knees closer to her body, waiting for the panic to subside as the world around her began to spin. She counted, reached down to the sand, feeling it between her fingers, cool against the heated skin on her clammy palms. Eventually, her chest released and she took in a painful gasp of air and opened her eyes, focussing on a spot of seaweed which lay to the left of the rock she was leaning against.

Hannah had no idea how long she was sat there, but eventually she gathered enough about her to take a cautious peek out from the rocks. She could see nothing, so she emerged at a crawl, staying low to the ground before she tentatively rose to her knees, then her feet, and began to scramble as best she could up the sand. A movement in her peripheral made her still but as her eyes focussed in the dim moonlight she recognised Jake’s loping gait. Then, another movement to the right had her focussing in that direction and she saw Max making his way towards Jake.

With a relieved sob she began to run towards them, stumbling a little as she sprinted as fast as she could towards the two men, just as Jake tackled Max to the floor. She continued running as Jake let go of Max having realised who he was and helped him to his feet, giving him a quick and urgent embrace. The two of them then spun in her direction and as she stumbled again, this time she couldn’t stop herself, and she felt her body pitching forward.

“Hey, I got you.” Max caught her under her armpits and pulled her to him as she pressed her face into his chest, her breathing ragged as she began to sob.

“Ari, Sammy, they took…they took…” She was hyperventilating again, the tears coursing down her face and Max pulled back a little, both his hands cupping her cheeks.

“We know.” He nodded. “They’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that!” She practically screamed and Jake hastily hushed her. “This, it’s like Andy again, Max! I can’t lose him! I can’t lose him, or Sammy, I can’t!”

“Cracker, I know this is hard, but you gotta be quiet.” Max’s hands curled around her upper arms as he stooped down a little so his face was level with hers. “We need to get out of here.”

Hannah took in a deep gulp of air, trying to control herself as she knew he was right.

“Let’s get home and find out what’s going on.” Jake added, his voice a little shaky.

“Yeah, okay.” She nodded, her voice wobbling. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“Hey, nothing to be sorry for.” Max gently placed his hand on her neck in a sign of affection. “Come on.”

He offered her his hand and she took it, lacing her fingers into his and he gave a little encouraging squeeze. Taking a tentative step, she was pleased to find her legs cooperating, and with Jake walking on her other side, the three of them made their way quickly to the trucks.

“Dumb bastards left the keys.” Jake’s voice was shaky but relieved as he checked the ignition in one truck, Max inspecting the other before he gave a nod.

“Same here.” Max spoke. “Okay, we’ll take the off road route home. It’ll take us a little longer but we’ll avoid anyone who may or may not be waiting for us.”

Jake nodded, before he paused, and gave Max a quick embrace before he stooped to give Hannah a hug, noticing that she was shivering violently from a combination of fright and cold.

“Here.” he said gently, taking his jacket off and dropping it over her shoulder.

“Thanks Jake.” She mumbled, clutching it round her tightly, her fingers curling over the material, clinging to it as if her life depended on it.

“Any time, Red.” He smiled and she gave a little nod before she turned and made her way to the truck Max had checked.

As Jake made to walk away, Max grabbed his arm.

“You stop for nothing or no-one. If anything happens to one of us, the other keeps going.” He instructed, his voice low as he shot a glance over his shoulder to double check Hannah wasn’t in ear shot. “Fuck this leave no one behind bullshit.”

Jake nodded. “Keep going, yeah, got it.” He looked around before he sighed.” Ari and Sammy, man. They’re-”

“I know.” Max replied, his voice sombre as he cut Jake off. It didn’t need saying, he knew that they were in deep shit. “But if we don’t get back, then this situation is gonna be a whole lot worse.”

“Stay safe.” Jake nodded, and with a final quick embrace the two men headed to their respective trucks. Max hauled himself in to his and stole a quick glance at Hannah as she sat on the passenger seat, huddled in on herself, looking out of the window over the ocean. He took a deep breath, turned the key in the ignition and then set off, pulling away from the beach quickly, the wheels spinning slightly on the loose shale ground beneath the tyres.

****

"We're gonna get outta here. It's gonna be okay." Ari stated with fake conviction as he paced up and down the filthy jail cell he and Sammy had been thrown into. 

Sammy didn't respond, he had fallen into an introspective state the moment the Sudanese soldiers had made them get in the jeep and was now sat on a rusted bench inspecting the blood on his hands. Ari was worried about him and he had given Sammy a side glance before assuring him everything would turn out right, hoping to get the man out of the dangerous headspace he seemed to be caught in, but Sammy didn't even spare him a look. 

Then a guard walked past, the sound of a bunch of keys jingling and the clanking in another cell lock alerting Ari who turned hastily. "Hey, hey, excuse me." He called. "Excuse me. I need to talk to your commander. Hey!" Ari insisted but the guard totally ignored him, causing his despair as he resumed his pacing along the cell. "Fucking asshole."  

 "You're the asshole, Ari." Sammy spoke, his voice calm as his eyes remained fixed on the floor. 

"What?" Ari stopped and turned to look at him. 

 "I told you to cancel tonight's operation, I told you. I told you." Sammy insisted, his tone still calm as he fiddled with his fingers.

"You don't get to make that call." Ari responded somewhat irritated as he approached the cell door again.

 "No, I don't get to make that call, only you get to make that call."

"Is there something you wanna say?" Ari harshly asked.

"Why did you bring me down here?" Sammy lifted his head to look at Ari for the first time since they had arrived in the jail. "You act like we're best friends, but you never listen to a word I say. And I'm clearly not the best field doctor around anymore." He added as he raised his injured hand to punctuate his words. "Is it pity? Or was it just so you could get close to Hannah again?”

Ari snapped at Sammy's insinuations of him having a hidden agenda. "Yeah, it was pity. You happy? Now shut up." He ordered as he ran his hands through his hair. "We'll get out of here if we stay calm." 

 "They're gonna find out who we are." Sammy groaned. "They're gonna go to the hotel if they're not there already and they're gonna kill every single one of them, Max, Jake, Rachel..."

"Hey, stop using names." Ari cut him off as he walked towards him. He wanted, or better yet, he needed Sammy to keep the cover, and he also didn't need to hear him say the name of his sister. He didn't want to think about it, nor did he want to think about the fact he had left her behind albeit for a good reason, and the thought of her not being able to get to the resort safe and sound made him feel physically sick. "You don't know who's listening."

Sammy sat still but continued with his tirade against Ari's methods. "You think this kind of work is romantic? It's not romantic, it's practical. There's a protocol. You can't just make shit up as you go along and hope for the best."

"I know that." Ari snapped. "What we do is dangerous. People get hurt sometimes." He said in an attempt to justify his reckless ways, but that was the last straw. At the mention of someone being hurt Sammy cut him off loudly.

"Oh, I know." He shouted as he help up his hand angrily

"Is that what this is about? Your hand? Tangiers?"

"You know, I was a surgeon before I met you, and you dare come into my clinic, and make a joke about me not saving lives." Sammy replied, his tone harsh but calm at the same time.

"What joke, when did I make a joke? What joke?" Ari asked, annoyed and stunned at Sammy's accusation.

"It's not about my hand! It's about you." Sammy yelled as he stood up to face Ari. "It's about you and me. And Hannah. You had to drag her back into this fucking shit, and now she loves you." He spat the words at his friend's face, causing Ari to wince. "And they’re gonna torture us and we're gonna die in here and she’s gonna lose the both of us, lose someone she loves, again, and... and it's because your ego won't accept any help from anybody else.  And no matter what you do, I still fucking follow you around like that fucking dog of yours."

Ari swallowed. He was frozen and lost for words and the least he could do, or so he thought,  was to allow his friend the right to pour his heart out whether he liked his words or not. Sammy stood there looking at him for a few seconds before he laughed softly.

"I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid, I'm so stupid..." He repeated as he retreated to the cell door crying until he eventually shut up and started sobbing as he held onto the bars of the door.

"Hey." Ari tried to calm him, but then Sammy let out a scream of a yell, causing Ari to run towards him in an attempt to make him shut up.

"Hey, hey, hey, stop, stop, you're gonna get us killed. Don't-" he started to say as he tried to keep his voice even but Sammy cut him off with a punch which took Ari by surprise. Sammy took advantage of his staggering friend and blew him a couple more blows before Ari finally reacted, dodging the next one and was able to retaliate with a punch of his own, more in the hopes of making Sammy stop in order to avoid attracting the guards attention, than in a real desire to hurt him.

Eventually, the fight finally broke when Ari was able to overpower Sammy slamming him against a wall.

 "Sammy, stop." He hissed.

Sammy didn't fight back but pushed him away. "I tell you something now, Ari. If by some miracle we get out of here, if anything has happened to my sister, or Rachel because of you, I’ll fucking kill you myself."

Ari stared at Sammy as his words sank in. He was devastated, overridden by guilt and worried that his friend’s words might be actually a reality when or if they got out of that prison. That something might have happened to Hannah, to his firefly, because of him and his ego getting in the way. He had put his need to try and maintain cover so that they could continue their work before the safety of his team by forbidding the Navy Seals to get involved. They could have ended this there and then on the beach, and now they’d be on a ship heading for the safety of home. Instead here he was, banged up in a cell, again, with Sammy, having no idea if Hannah and the rest of the guys had made it home.

And if something happened to them, to his Firefly, he didn't know what he was gonna do. 

He felt the tears stinging at the back of his eyes as he slumped on the bench, his head in his hands, before he starting to silently sob.

****

The cell was silent, both men slumped on the floor on opposite walls. The only noises made since the fight had been Sammy's panting and Ari's hushed sobbing, which had died after a while. Ari was now watching his diver's watch, the time going painfully slow. It had been almost eight hours since they had been there. Eight fucking hours and every guard had ignored him. He sighed and threw his head back, grimacing as his face hurt from the blows Sammy had given him. He felt miserable. It was hot and sticky and he was in pain both physically and emotionally as Sammy hadn't spoken a word to him since their fight.

Eventually, Ari gathered all the strength he had left and pulled himself from the floor to sit on the bench and there he was, led on that bench, trying to clear his mind, when he heard footsteps. He sat up when a guard opened the door and nodded to them. He shared a glance with Sammy, who was also sitting up from his spot on the floor, and together they followed the guard out, down the corridor and into the main building where he saw Rachel and Madibo. Ari quickly put two and two together, Rachel must have gone to find Madibo to talk him into letting them out of the prison, and Sammy must have been thinking the same thing as Ari heard him give a little sigh. 

Ari was looking at Rachel, trying to read any sign Hannah was safe, but she was just staring at Sammy, taking in his horrible appearance as she struggled to keep a straight face. Ari knew that much, so his eyes fell on Madibo who was looking at him also taking in his injuries and then the Colonel's eyes flicked to Sammy's blood stained top. 

"Who did this to you?" Madibo asked them both, before he angrily turned to a guard speaking to him in Amharic.

"No, no, no, that's...It's not, they didn't..." Ari explained before he gestured between him and Sammy. "We did this. To each other."

Madibo frowned at Ari. "What do you mean?"

"We don't get along." Sammy deadpanned.

Madibo looked at Rachel before looking back at them and started chuckling heartily "Crazy Hawajas."  He said before laughing again. "You're free to go."

Ari paused, not daring to believe it, to believe his luck once more. He glanced at Sammy and then at Rachel and, looking for confirmation, he turned to Madibo who nodded. “You may go."

The three undercover agents thanked him and silently they made their turn to go, being escorted out by a guard. No sooner had they put a foot out of the building that Ari gently grabbed Rachel's arm, making her stop. 

"Did…"

"All three of them made it back, safe." Rachel cut him off before he could mention any names, her face expression not giving anything more away.

Ari let out a sigh of relief, as did Sammy, and the three of them stayed silent until they reached the jeep a few steps ahead when Rachel stopped and turned to Sammy, wrapping her arms around him.

"Hey." Sammy whispered, as he held her tight against him.

Ari dropped his head and stood still, hands on his jacket's pockets. He felt like he was intruding, but at the same time he was also desperate to get back and he knew it was like a five hour drive at least, till he could also wrap his arms around his firefly. Eventually Sammy pulled away and Rachel turned to Ari and examined at his face. "You did that?"

 "He’s an asshole." Sammy just shrugged.

Ari sighed and rubbed his head for a moment before holding his hands out for the keys. "I’ll drive."

****

The car drive back to the resort was distressing to say the least. You could cut the tension inside the car with a knife. Sammy had been sulking on the back seat all the time, refusing to say a single word to either of them. Rachel, on her part, had remained silent as well once she had filled them in properly in all the details of the last twelve hours or so at the resort and how she had gone to ask for Madibo's help after speaking to Ethan, who had told her he was flying to Port Sudan that very same day, but she turned back to check up on Sammy or watch Ari every now and then.

All in all, Ari was anxious and couldn't wait to get out of that suffocating space and hold Hannah in his arms again and check with his own eyes she was well. And he did after a few hours, as the car approached the resort he could see her figure standing behind Ethan, holding onto Jake's arm, squinting as if to check it was really him who was driving the incoming car.  Uneasy though he was about Ethan's presence at the resort, Ari tried unsuccessfully to hold back a smile when he stopped the car and Hannah ran past Ethan towards him, jumping onto his arms once he had got out of the jeep, hugging him for dear life.

Ari held her tightly, chuckling before whispering sweet nothings into her hair to assure his girl he was really there and in one piece.  But no sooner had he chuckled again and kissed Hannah's cheek and put her down, she slapped him fiercely across his face, causing his head to whip sharply to the right as she started yelling at him.

"It isn't funny, you asshole!" 

Ari tried to calm her as he struggled to dodge her blows as she hammered her fists at his chest, his face, anything she could aim at, but it was proving a really difficult task. Hannah had gone into overdrive and was desperately trying to whack him as tears run down her face. 

"Hannah!" Sammy called her, in an attempt to stop his raging sister, more as a desire to calm her than preventing her from hitting Ari. And then, as Hannah's brain registered the sound of her brother's voice, she stopped dead and threw herself into his arms, sobbing disconsolately. 

Eventually Hannah pulled away and Sammy kissed the top of her head before Rachel took her out of Ari's reach. Ari was confused, he knew deep down that Hannah had all the right to be mad at him but was hoping to make her understand why he had acted like he had before having to deal with Ethan and thus, he made a move to follow her and Rachel but Ethan cleared his throat demanding his attention and compelling him to stay put with only one look.

"You're overdressed." Ari commented, trying to lighten the tension a bit. But Ethan wasn't in any mood whatsoever to entertain his dark humour.

"Let's talk, inside." he ordered, un-phased.

 Ari dropped his head and had just started following Ethan who had turned to go inside when Sammy called the older man.

"Ethan!" He paused, giving time for Ethan to turn to look at him. "The soldier that was shot?"

Hannah dropped her head, she already knew the man’s fate as it had been one of the first things she had asked Ethan when he arrived in the resort, and Ethan looked at Sammy sympathetically before answering. 

"He lost too much blood." 

Sammy's head fell in understanding and Ethan turned again to follow Ari to his and Hannah’s hut. 

Ari paused to take off his jacket, before he felt something in the inside left pocket and suddenly remembered the letter he had received on the beach. He pulled it out, taking a look for the first time at the writing on the front and whilst it was addressed in Sarah’s tidy writing, he spotted a small smiley face in the bottom corner drawn in crayon. Taking a deep breath to steady his once more brewing emotions, he tossed the letter onto his nightstand before throwing his jacket over the chair in the corner as Ethan closed the door to the hut behind him.

"How did this happen?" Ethan asked, his voice calm.

"They mistook us for smugglers." Ari explained, his voice lower than usual, as he took off his watch as well and placed it on the bedside table, before picking up a towel that was on his bed.

"This whole thing's a bloody mistake." Ethan stated, visibly angry now, before sighing "It doesn't... It doesn't really matter anymore."

 Ari then stilled, realising what he meant. "You shutting us down?" He asked, and Ethan nodded, making him drop the towel he was cleaning himself with and sit on his bed. “You can't, Ethan." he said then, keeping his voice as calmed as possible. This mission's a success, we've got thousands of people out, we have thousands more coming this way." 

"That's exactly why we have to stop now.  While it's still a success." Ethan offered.

 Ari then stood up again. "God, you're thinking about the politics. Nothing's changed." He said, almost pleaded, as he approached Ethan. "The Sudanese don't know the missing..."

"You could have died last night." Ethan cut him off. "We were this close," he said, gesturing with his index finger and thumb, "to having an all-out war between our Navy Seals and the Sudanese military.  You were arrested. Again. They have a file on you."

With a groan Ari sat back down on the edge of his and Hannah’s bed.

"My job here isn't finished." He stated stubbornly, his voice soft again, making Ethan sigh and take a seat on a chair in front of where Ari was sat.

“Open your eyes. Look what's happening in Khartoum. They're arresting and executing dissidents. They're beating uncovered women in the street. They're expelling foreigners. Textbook revolution. It's time to get out." 

"Please, Ethan, please." Ari pleaded, but Ethan cut his pleads off loudly.

 "I want you chaps home." And then he shrugged.  "I don't need more bodies on my conscience. Take a few days to organize. And get the hell out of this God forsaken place."

Ari didn't say a word, but then again there wasn't much else he could say, and Ethan sighed as he stood up.

"Now I suggest you go deal with your domestic problems."

Ari shook his head, fully understanding what Ethan was referring to, and as much as he knew that was exactly what he had to do, he wasn't looking forward to Hannah's reaction to him again.

"I've been here for a few hours already and she’s hardly spoken a word. Every so often she would simply get up and walk the dog but that was it." Ethan explained and Ari sighed frustratedly. "Textbook PTSD if you ask me." He added, watching Ari intently.

"PTSD?" Ari frowned, lifting his head to look at Ethan who rolled his eyes and audibly sighed at his team leader's stupidity.

"Shall I remind you she already lost a husband in very similar circumstances?"

"Shit." Ari groaned, suddenly everything clicking in. A night mission, an ambush, them hiding behind rocks trying to find cover from stray shots...

"Penny dropped, Ari?" Ethan asked, before opening the hut's door.

Ari looked at him and swallowed hard as he nodded, his head falling down before whispering. "Yeah, yeah."

"Good. Now go deal with it." Ethan suggested before stepping outside the hut. Once outside he paused, and turned to Ari, a slight twinkle in his eyes. “I have to ask, where did you find the dog?”

“Erm…” Ari frowned at the man’s change of subject before he took a deep breath. “Han found him, in a cave at the end of the cove.”

“Hmmm.” Ethan said, his eyes flashing with a sudden humour. “I like him. He reminds me of someone, can’t think who” And with a final look at Ari he turned and left.

As the door shut behind Ethan, Ari let out a groan and ran his hands down his tender face. His fingers steeped in front of his mouth as he contemplated the fact that Ethan had basically just ended the mission. Ari wasn’t an idiot, he had known for a while this day would come, sooner rather than later, but still he wasn’t ready, not yet.

But then, would he ever be?

His eyes wandered around the hut that he had, for the last two years, called his home and all thoughts of disappointment flew from his mind as he spotted the envelope he’d tossed down five or so minutes ago. He stood up and made his way over, snatching it up before he opened it and pulled out the contents. There was no long letter, simply two folded up pieces of paper. The first one was blank, but inside that one was another that held a crayon drawing and he instantly felt his nose begin to sting and his eyes watered as he glanced down at the sketch of Maya, Sarah and him, complete with his rucksack hanging from his hand and beard on his face. He took a shuddering breath as he saw the words ‘My family’ written over the top of the photo and he wiped his eyes hastily, before he spotted that Maya had written the letters PTO in the bottom corner. He did just that and felt his mouth drop open at the second drawing on the back. It was him, this time depicted on a beach, with a woman next to him with long, dark hair, and at his feet sat a small grey dog. This time, the words ‘My Dad At Work’ were written alongside it and Ari sighed, taking a deep breath as he chuckled a little.

“Oh Munchkin.” He whispered, tracing the lines of the drawing a little before he folded it and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans to show Hannah.

That was if he could find her because, as it stood, she was proving to be quite elusive. She was nowhere to be found in the main building, Max and Jake who were in there both told him they hadn’t seen her in a while. He checked everywhere he could think of, the reception, kitchen, spare rooms, lounge area before be headed out to her little cave and there was no sign of her there either. With a sigh he stood on the beach, hands on his hips as he glanced along the shore line trying to figure out where she could possibly have gone when he heard a little bark in the distance. Turning his head towards it, Ari felt a smile cross his face as his eyes landed in the little boat shed where all the diving equipment was kept.

Bingo.

He hurried towards it and found her, not in the hut, but sat in one of the boats tied to the jetty, looking out over the ocean. Simon gave a little whine as he saw Ari coming and started to wag his tail in greeting.

“Hey.” Ari spoke as he walked down the small wooden jetty towards the diving boat. “I’ve been looking for you all over.”

“Take a hint then.” Hannah sniffed, not bothering to turn to look at him. “When someone hides it usually means they don’t wanna be found.”

“Is that what you were doing?” Ari asked as he gently stepped onto the boat causing it to sway gently, ripples spreading out on the surface of the ocean which was as still as a millpond. Simon jumped up at him and he gently pushed the dog down, giving him a quick pat.

“Leave me alone, Ari.” Her response, although not a direct yes, was affirmative. “I don’t wanna talk to you right now.”

“Come on Firefly, please.” Ari sighed, sitting on the bench opposite her. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what exactly?” Her head snapped up to look at him and Ari took a deep breath as he saw the anger blazing once more in her eyes. “For almost getting us killed? For being a reckless asshole? For fucking leaving me behind?”

By the time she had finished her voice was loud, laced with hurt as much as anger, and Ari swallowed, shaking his head.

“I needed you to stay hidden, Hannah.” He pressed, trying to explain his actions. “If they’d have seen you and taken you do you know what they’d have done to you?”

“You left me, Ari!” Hannah sniffed. “You left me and I was terrified.”

“Because I couldn’t let them find you, Baby!” Ari felt his gut twisting at the expression on Hannah’s face as she glanced away from him, tears in her eyes. “Do you think I wanted to leave you?”

“I doesn’t matter what you wanted!” Hannah screamed at him, making him recoil a little. “You did it! And I didn’t know what had happened to you, or what they were gonna do to you, or if I was ever gonna see you or Sammy ever again. I was going mad there, in the dark, hiding by those rocks and having to listen to everyone yelling and wondering if they were gonna find me, and if they had I’d have been there, alone, no gun, nothing!”

“I had no choice, Han!” Ari replied, his own voice gathering volume and momentum as he tried to make her understand. “If they’d have found you, you know what this place is like for women, shit, I don’t even wanna think about what those bastards would have done to you.” He swallowed, as the mere thought about what she could have gone through was enough to make him feel sick.

Hannah glanced at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as tears coursed down her face. All Ari wanted to do was hold her in his arms, but as he moved towards her she held her hands out and shook her head.

“Firefly…” 

“I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.” She spoke softly, and Ari frowned at her sudden change of mind and demeanour. “We all got back safe. You and Sammy are here and okay, well, sort of.” She nodded to the bruises on the left side of his face and Ari took a deep breath as she continued. “But I can’t lose you, Ari. I won’t go through that again, I can’t go through that again, I’m sorry.”

“What are you saying?” Ari whispered, his stomach turned to lead as he contemplated what her words meant. And when she answered, and confirmed his fears, he felt like his entire world was crumbling around him.

“I can’t do this.” She waved her hand between them. “Not anymore.”

“Hannah, no, please.” He gulped, reaching for her hand. ”Don’t do this.”

“What choice do I have?” She sniffed through her tears. “I love you, Ari. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, Mi Lobo, but I can’t lose you, and I can’t lose what I don’t have.”

“Hannah…” Ari felt his own lip beginning to wobble as he trailed off, the lump in his throat felt like a golf ball as the tears pricked his eyes.

“I couldn’t stand you leaving me again or dying…” Hannah’s voice dropped to a whisper and Ari shook his head.

“I’m never gonna leave you, Firefly.” He took a shuddering breath. “Not that way, you know this. I love you so fucking much.”

She turned her blue eyes to his, and he reached up, his hands cupping her face. “Ethan is pulling us out now anyway, so we’re going home.” His thumbs gently brushed over her cheekbones as he held her face steady so he could look at her. “And I’ll find something else to do. A desk job...”

“Will you?” Her tone was disbelieving.

“Yes!” He implored. “I told you almost two years ago that this was going to be my last field mission.”

“And how long until you get bored, or miserable?” Hannah shook her head, pulling her face out of his gently grasp.

“Nothing could make me as miserable as losing you.”

She turned to look out of the boat over at the sun which was sinking below the horizon before she shrugged. “Well, suppose you’d know how that feels, I mean, you walked away from me once after all.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Ari heard her groan a little and he looked down at his hands, as he felt her turn to face him.

“I’m sorry, that was mean.”

“Maybe.” He looked at her with a sad smile. “But the truth hurts doesn’t it?” He took a deep breath and wiped at his eyes. “I can’t explain how sorry I am for leaving you last night. I can’t apologise enough for being an asshole and I can’t even begin to show you how much I love you, Hannah.” He sniffed a little and looked at her.

“I know.” She shook her head, fresh tears falling from her face.

“Then don’t finish this, please.” Ari’s chest hitched as Hannah looked at him once more, before she let out a huge sob, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, Ari, I don’t want to, I don’t wanna be without you.” She cried. “I was lashing out, you know I lost Andy and yesterday I really thought I’d lost you again, and Sammy, and as per the last time I never got to say goodbye….”

At that she completely broke down, more apologies spilling from her mouth, and Ari hastily moved to sit by her, pulling her to him as she sobbed, her hands fisting in the back of his T-shirt as her arms hugged him. Ari pressed his face into her hair, his own chest hitching with silent sobs as he held her tightly, never wanting to let her go again. He’d been an asshole, he knew that. He also, deep down, knew that Ethan was right. They did need to get out of here. Not simply because of the Authorities, but the team were tied, they were done. And it was certainly better to quit whilst it had been successful than to go out under a dark cloud should anything go wrong.

Plus, he couldn’t lose the woman in his arms. Not again. He wanted a future with her. He saw them building a home, living together in a normal place, doing on normal dates, marriage and maybe even a family of their own.

With a shuddering breath he pulled back and looked down at her, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I don’t wannabe without you, either.” He shook his head. “I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Firefly. And I know me and Sarah aren’t legally divorced yet, but as soon as we’re home I’m gonna sort that out and…” he trailed off. “Then it’s a clean slate, for me and you.”

At that Simon jumped up in between them and Ari’s large hand lazily scratched behind his ear, as he took the opportunity to steady his emotions as the relief that she didn’t want to end things between them flooded Ari’s system. As the dog let out a little sigh of satisfaction, Ari was suddenly reminded of the picture in his pocket. He shifted slightly, and reached behind him, pulling it free.

“What’s that?” Hannah asked, wiping her face.

“It’s the letter the Navy Seal gave to me.” He said, holding it out to her. “Maya sent it. Have a look.”

Hannah eyed him for a moment before she took the piece of paper and Ari watched as she studied it, her eyes growing wide. She took a deep breath, tears once more trickled down her cheeks as she gave a little laugh, before she looked back up at him.

“If you wanna know where exactly you sit in my life, then there you have it.” He swallowed. “Maya knows all about you, because I tell her so much, and, fuck, Hannah…I…”

At that he was cut off as she surged forward, pressing her lips to his, her arms round his neck, pulling him down to her. Ari’s hand slipped a little on the bench, causing Simon to grumble in protest as he wriggled free from where he had been unceremoniously squashed as Ari’s strong arms pinned Hannah to his chest. The kiss was frantic, moans and groans slipping from both their mouths as their tongues fought for dominance. Hannah’s hands moved to tangle in the back of Ari’s hair, fisting slightly around the ends of the long strands round his neck and then the pain in Ari’s face suddenly registered and he gave an involuntary hiss and pulled back, his hand reaching up to his face, fingers gently pressing along his jawline.

Hannah studied him in the dim light that was now flooding the boat thanks to the lamps coming on around the resort. She gently reached up and titled his head around so she could see his injuries and for the first time noticed that it wasn’t just around his left eye. That side of his jaw as also peppered with bruises. She swallowed.

“Did they…”

“No.” Ari assured her. “It was Sammy. We err, we had a fight.”

“What?” She frowned, her hands dropping to his shoulders. “Why?”

“Coz I’m an asshole.”  He shrugged and Hannah arched her eyebrow.

“Well, yes, that’s a given, you are but…” She sighed. “Next time he beats up your pretty face I’m gonna smash his head against the floor.”

“You think my face is pretty, huh?” Are teased, gently placing his hands on her hips and Hannah smiled.

“You’re the most handsome man in the whole world to me, Lobo.”

“Good to know.” Ari smirked.

Hannah studied him for a moment before she sighed. “I love you, I’m so sorry for before.”

“Hey, don’t.” He shook his head. “I understand, I was an asshole. You and Sammy, you’re both right but…” He took a deep breath. “That’s why I get what Ethan’s saying now. We’re done. It’s time we all go home.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Well I need to find Kabede, make sure he’s okay, and break the news to him.” Ari licked his lips. “Then we need to pack up what stuff we need to here and then we go.”

“Cut and run?”

“Most probably.” He nodded.

“Hmmm.” Hannah looked at him. “There is one thing you gotta do before all that.”

“What?”

“Shower. You stink.” She wrinkled her nose and Ari let out sigh.

“Yeah well, it wasn’t exactly the Ritz in there.” He shrugged before he ran one of his hands through his slightly greasy hair, the other flexing on her hip. “Wanna come scrub my back?”

Hannah looked at him for a moment, before she licked her lips and gave a grin. “Only if you repay the favour.”

“Why kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” Ari grinned and with a little groan he rose to his feet, offering Hannah his hand. She took it and together they made their way down the quiet, moonlit beach heading for their hut, Simon trotting behind them.

**** Chapter 14

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First”: Volume 3, Chapter 1

Summary:

Erik N'Jadaka Stevens. The top student in his graduating class at the Naval Academy. The youngest graduate to do so.

Erik excels at M.I.T. studying bioacoustics and sonic warfare. Hounded by Tony Stark to become his protege in Malibu, Erik sets out to forge a path that will take him into the military and Special Ops to complete his ultimate goal: Revenge for his mother and father and the overthrow of the Wakandan Royal House. With the help of his roommate, Disa, he may have found a way to balance first love and his need for justice.

NSFW. Smut. Mature Audience Only.

"My nose wide as the Red Sea (Red Sea) Lips full, fillers don't fill me (Fill me) Soon as my cousin killer's on trial (Woah) Family gon' pull 'em sitting courtside Godsend they say, we singing la-la-la Don't want no vultures on our si-i-ide Looking black as the messi-i-iah I got time…

When we die, where do my people go? To the stars where they can't steal your glow When we die, where do my people go? To the stars where they can't steal your glow Superpower"

Kirby—"Superpower"

Chocolate City.

That's what they called this particular section of dorm housing on the fourth floor of the building known as New House that Erik N'Jadaka Stevens found himself standing in at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

M.I.T.

"No man, this dude is different. He's twenty, but he acts way older. Quiet. Not real friendly…I don't mean in a bad way…he's just not gregarious. Grad student, not a freshman… I didn't ask. He applied to be here and Jay said he'd be a good fit. Oakland…I don't know…"

They were feeling him out already.

The lone voice he heard was in another room talking on a phone. The person wasn't even aware that Erik had entered House One that Chocolate City shared with iHouse, another identity-based undergraduate group who used the first two floors while they used the other three top floors.

Erik had money to get his own apartment or his own house if he wanted. Working for Tony Stark as an intern and a Stark Fellow for a year prior to M.I.T earned him money to live like an adult. Hell, he gave up a luxury apartment and tasteful eclectic furniture to move cross country and hunker down among thirty-one young Black men from around the world—correction, thirty young Black men, and one young white Italian man—who came to study a wide range of STEM-related fields.

Erik stared at the Chocolate City Mission Statement on his phone:

"Chocolate City is a brotherhood of MIT students and alumni who identify with urban culture and share common backgrounds, interests, ethnicities, and/or experiences. By cultivating a tradition of social, intellectual, character, and leadership development, the Brothers of Chocolate City exemplify a high standard of excellence which is founded on continual growth. We seek to enrich the MIT and greater global communities by embodying the principles of our brotherhood."

Taking a deep breath, Erik took time to meditate on what his purpose was in being there in that commons room space at that moment. It was a promise to his Uncle Bakari, Aunt Shavonne, and his Grandpop that he would spend at least six months in the dorm to have a proper group living experience that he didn't have at the Naval Academy. One that was less rigid and military guided. And not a juvenile hall. He shook off the memories.

Six months.

He gave his word.

Erik rolled the suitcase he had with him against a wall and the movement alerted the unseen speaker to end their call. A lanky fade-wearing young man with glasses and very light skin walked in from another room.

"Hi, Erik?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, welcome! I'm Rasheed. Junior year. Engineering. One of two Co-Chairs here. You look different from the Zoom chat…hair is longer…"

They shook hands and Erik ran his fingers over the short 'fro he was cultivating. It was one of the perks of being away from The Naval Academy and Stark Industries. He could let his shit grow freely. He could wear regular clothes. He could stand down.

"Growing it out for a minute."

"Are you wearing gold slugs?"

"Yeah," Erik said becoming annoyed with comments about his appearance.

The moment he left Tony Stark's employ he had pure gold panther slugs made for his bottom teeth to match the ones his Baba used to wear.

"Is this all your stuff?"

"Nah, I have some more out in my car."

"What do you drive?"

"1970 Chevrolet Chevelle."

"What? A muscle car. What color?"

"Black."

"I'll go down and help you bring the rest of your stuff up. Everyone is still moving in and finding the campus. We're having a dorm meeting with the Chocolate City crew before the big New House meeting downstairs later tonight."

"Okay. Cool."

Exiting the elevator, they walked down the large hall on the first floor to the exit. Outside the afternoon air was crisp and Erik admired the brick of the building as they walked away from it to where he parked temporarily.

Rasheed whistled when he saw Erik's car.

"You sank some money into this bad boy."

"My grandfather had it for years. Fixed it up and passed it on to me. He still adds stuff to it if I ask him too."

"That's cool, bruh. Real cool."

Erik pulled out two more roller bags and a duffle, along with his computer bag from his trunk.

"That's it?"

"Yep," Erik said.

"You can stay parked here until tomorrow night. That's when you have to use your residency parking passes and move it to your assigned area."

"Bet."

Moving his things back up into his assigned floor, more young men had arrived in their commons and introductions were made. One husky guy with a crimson and white MIT sweatshirt sat on a couch with his laptop playing music. The music switched up and a voice Erik recognized filled the room.

ButtaFly.

A DJ that hosted a popular MIT radio show. A DJ he listened to for months while he worked for Tony Stark.

"You are listening to the Cosmic Café…up next I'm going to have some new music by Kirby, Seinabo Bey, and I'll also throw in some classic Mutabaruka dub poetry. I want to give a big welcome to the new students arriving for the start of a new school year, especially to the young men of Chocolate City. My homegirl Jennifer is the Graduate Resident Tutor there so hey girl…I hear some really brilliant new students are over there, so welcome… welcome to all the folks over at New House…"

Erik stood in front of red and white hoodie.

"Where is the campus radio station at? Do you know?"

"WMBR?" hoodie asked.

"It's in the basement of the Walker Memorial Building," Rasheed said.

"Is that far from here?"

"Not really if you don't mind walking."

Erik pulled up the campus map on his phone.

"What room do I have?" Erik asked.

He followed Rasheed down a hall to the far end. Two twin beds, two desks, a decent window…

No one else had belongings there yet.

Erik picked the side away from the window and dumped his stuff.

"Thanks for helping me," Erik said.

"No problem—"

"What time is the meeting?"

"In two hours—"

Erik left the room with Rasheed at his heels.

"The rest of the guys will be back, and your roommate—"

"Later. I gotta go peep something first. I'll be back on time."

Erik passed by more Black male undergrads entering Chocolate City.

"Hey, Erik!"

Darcy, the other Co-Chair called out to him as Erik headed toward the elevator. A bright white smile on a rich round mahogany face tried to get his attention as Erik swept past.

"I'll be back!" he called out again.

Erik checked his cell phone. ButtaFly's show lasted for another thirty minutes. He stuck in earbuds to listen to her as he walked outside once more. Zipping up the bright orange windbreaker he had on, he used his phone GPS to guide him to his muse. The voice that haunted him for so many months when he worked for Stark. The voice that soothed him when he was in bed alone. The voice that seduced him when he pleasured himself in that big queen-sized bed he used to own.

Things were different now.

He had a twin bed and a male roommate. He had to share cooking duties with young men when he once ate with billionaire playboys and a Black Princess of Monaco. Erik used to fly on a private jet with Tony Stark anywhere in the world and had access to tech that these students were just trying to learn about and would never get to see on a higher level in a lifetime.

So different.

No more smoking weed and jerking off naked to Buttafly's voice in private trying to imagine what she looked like as he came in his hand with deep guttural moans. Very shortly, he would come face to face with the woman of his dreams.

A woman who helped guide him back to his ultimate purpose in life and she didn't even know it.

Chapter 2 HERE.

Tag List:

@fd-writes​​ @soufcakmistress​  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone​

@allhailqueennel​  @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot​  @shookmcgookqueen​ @yoyolovesbucky​

@raysunshine78​ @the-illlestt​ @terrablaze514​  @l-auteuse​ @amirra88​ @jimizwidow​  @janelledarling​

@chaneajoyyy​  @sweetestdream92  @purple-apricots​  @blackpinup22​  @hennessystevens-udaku​

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade​ @bugngiz​ @stariamrry​  @honeytoffee​ @meilintheempressofdreams​

@tyees​  @eye-raq​  @writerbee-ffs​  @chocolatedream30​  @childishgambinaa​  @mygirlrenee​ @thewaysheis​—awkward

@tchallasbabymama​

@lahuttor​

@goodieyaya​

@post-woke​

@soufcakmistress​

@yomiloo​

@goddessofthundathighs​

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes​

@retroxvailles​

@cydneyrenee4​

@nizzle-mo​

@cecereads209​

[bae-science]

it’s t-t-t-t-time for another newt bae-science fic rec extravabonanza! same rules, same boys, same bullshit! let’s get into it:

a beginning; a second chance by @dykesword

other newt and i have a long and intricate ritualistic battle to become the alpha newt, but i gotta give credit where it’s due. if you like to annotate your books for fun, this fic will give you a looooong comment you’ll want to write, and for good reason! there’s a lot of really well done metaphor and character detail in here, while still keeping a very soft, melancholy but with a hopeful edge tone. and also, like, the care and detail in which newt’s mental state in the aftermath of the precursors’ abuse is depicted is so so good, and delightful to read

husbandly duties by @kingeiszler

i am soooo biased with this one bc technically it was made for me but GODDAMN it’s good. this shit has everything: gottlieb trio sibling dynamics, vanessa in giant femme earrings, hermann yearning, newt and karla infodumping together, newt’s terrible and accurate gaydar, gay crime, the newmann dynamic and why it works boiled down to its bare essentials, pride and prejudice glasses touch, and neon green acrylics. required reading for the vanessaverse

Say That Again by @robertfrobisherslover

WOOF. if you like mutual pining and lack of communication from men with rocks for their emotional processing centers, and guncle (gay uncle) newt and hermann and KILLER artsy sex scenes, and themes of words unsaid in a story about LANGUAGE..... oogoogogoogouhufug. the writing style is clear and well paced, i LOVE little mako’s scene she’s such a cutie, and there’s like. a line. that’s a play on the whole “it’s always been you” trope. that lives in my mind rent free forever.

speak right to my heart without saying a word by @thekaidonovskys

i’m just gonna paste the comment i left on it here, because that sums up what is so absolutely incredible about this fic the best:

so sometimes you stumble on a piece of fiction that you add to your little collection of stuff you would show a person if you wanted them to understand a part of you that you can't quite explain eloquently, or it would take too long, etc etc, and i've never really found something like that for my autism until now, which, like, poggers. and i'll be as straight up as i can while still being the biggest lesbian in the great state of ohio (not a hard feat but alan invented computers so i love continuing on the autistic tradition of being a living miracle), the chameleon effect hit me like a mack truck. catholic school in the deep south is the most potent and effective form of ABA therapy imaginable :/. so sometimes i wonder what i would be like if i didn't have such a strong ability to pass, and here's where we finally get to the part of this comment where i just vomit compliments at you: you nailed it. you got it. i don't know if you're on the spectrum, but either way, well fucking done. trauma therapy research talks a lot about healing fantasies, which are fantasies, usually in the form of daydreams, that abused/neglected/traumatized/etc people create that directly address a struggle they have and take the form of a scenario in which that struggle is helped in some way. it could be an abusive parent repenting and showering them with the love they never had, or someone finding them during a panic attack and somehow knowing how best to comfort them without having to ask, or being intimate with someone and having a scar or physical deformity they've been shamed for be given attention and care. and i think you have created the ultimate perfect healing fantasy for autistic people, or at least those with """"high functioning"""" autism. it has a character who is visibly and undeniably on the spectrum having the pain and trauma going through life like that causes being acknowledged and validated, they are purposefully paid attention to because person b genuinely likes them and wants to understand and respect who they are and how they function in the world, and thus get The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known as well as the eventual rewards of being loved, person b makes a genuine effort to help teach them social skills in a way they can understand and learn through and is there for them when these skills are being practiced, their space and boundaries are respected but they aren't infantilized or thought of as an emotionless robot, and they receive love and comfort on their own terms not despite of but because of who they are, even specifically being asked not to change the way they are because that way is lovable. they are openly desired. writing is my fucking JOB and it's still difficult to put into words how much you got 100000% right about the dream with this fic. i have been in the EXACT and i mean EXACT same situation as hermann when he asked newt if it was his personality itself that made people not like him, because i deadass made a spreadsheet of all my personality attributes i thought could be preventing me from making friends in college, and then asked my fellow nd friend to see if there was anything i was missing. so i guess what i'm trying to say is that this amazing, and i'm bookmarking it and putting it on my next fic rec post, and maybe one day way way in the future if i ever get a partner i want to explain the whole autism thing to, i'm gonna have them read this.

The Facts With Newton Geiszler, PhD by what_alchemy (NSFW)

storytime: i read this fic a few years ago, completely forgot the title and author, and ended up thinking about the part where hermann admits to having fucked a trailer hitch when he was a teenager, at least once a week. last november, i say to my friend samara on twitter, head of the BSHCU (buttslut hermann cinematic universe), hey this seems like something you’d have read, do you remember a fic where... and samara says FUCK i do know what you’re talking about lemme find it. so if the fact that i have been looking for this fic for like, two years, and that it contains a moment so iconic all i had to say is, “hermann says he fucked a trailer hitch” and she IMMEDIATELY knew what i was talking about, does not convince you to read this... go back to catholic school i guess.

Feeling Blue by TempusPetrichor

fics where newt goes back to work as a biologist, especially a xenobiologist, post pru are really interesting, and usually have something neat to say about recovery, how it isn’t linear, how it often involves us returning to things we love for comfort, etc. this one sure does! some good emotional and physical h/c, LOVE the use of the ghost drift, and it’s always fun to see post pru fics use dialogue very obviously taken from dbt, trauma-specific therapeutical texts, and anything that shows the author has experience with, or did their research on, ptsd therapies.

You’re Everyone That Ever Cared by KlavierWrites

you know a fic is good when it’s an only 9k slowburn and still manages to reach infinite regress levels of are you fucking KIDDING GO TO THERAPY. newt “acts of service” geiszler may have a little misplaced misogyny due to his broken woman-centric gaydar. as a treat. the fucking. post-drift scene where hermann subtextually screams “LOOK IN OUR BRAINS YOU FUCK I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU I JUST HAVE AUTISM AND CAREER IN STEM DISORDER” is soooooo. god just hermann in general in that scene is great. if you like classic mid 2010s era newmann, ghost drift romance, and good ole mutual pining, this is a treat.

Baby, You're Hotter than my Bunsen Burner by SkySongMA

moronosexual hermann representation is something that can actually be so personal

Times of Stress by RadioMoth

the boys are processinggggggg. man what a good, quick and powerful punch to the gut. if you like post-pr1 catharsis and physical h/c, AND are the one friend that likes to comment at the end of the movie that hey newt got beat the fuck UP, check this one out.

black tea by @faggotcas

okay first of all, god fucking tier url, lee. second of all, food as a love language is my SHIT. i love the very slow relationship development here, where you see them making a genuine effort to get along and that in turn leading to feelings reigniting. it’s such a sweet little moment of a fic, with a nice atmosphere and tone to fit it

now here’s the part where i usually drop my latest fic, but i haven’t written one this month because i’ve been busy launching an audio drama! you can find it here, it’ll be right up your alley if you like cryptids and gay scientists and enemies to lovers and good ole americana, but since this is a newmann post, i’m gonna recommend the pacific rim audio drama duology i did a while back! part one is called conversations from the brink, and it’s a little slice of the pr3 we better fucking get from streaming that godawful looking anime. love and lesbians to everyone ❤️

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Mr. Wonderful || Nathan Drake || *Rewrite*

A/n: Original work here, this one is not gonna be rushed and it’s gonna have a lot more information regarding the readers and Nathan’s relationship.

Flashback Italicized.

Nathan Drake, so much could be said about the man. ‘Two bit thief seemed to come up a lot in conversations but to you he was much more than that. He was your best friend, lover and husband but soon he was going to be the father of your unborn child.

Sitting on the sofa next to your sister Elena, it was easy to remember when you told the man you were expecting your child.

   ◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇.

“Nathan! I need to tell you something!”

“Can’t this wait honey! We are getting shot at.” The man’s voice shouted over the gun fire. You two were pinned down by some mercenary's...you mentally cursed at Rafe for being such an asshole.

“Which make’s it the perfect opportunity.” Grabbing a hand grenade from Nathan’s pouch you tossed it at the last few of the remaining men. Hearing the blast to took a deep breath doing your best to stem your nerves. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what!”

   ◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Snorting you rubbed your stomach feeling the kick over your child, letting out a pained grunt Elena quickly turned her attention to you. Giving you an eager smile she placed her hand on your belly.

“God I pray that you don’t have another Drake on your hand.” She teased.

Smiling you shook your head relaxing into the couch. “Nathan isn’t so bad...I mean he took the news of my pregnancy well.”

“The man looked like he was going to have a heart attack but if you mean that he didn’t just walk off in the middle of a jungle then ya I guess I gotta give him props for that and I hate to admit it but it was cute seeing him get all protective of you and well it was nice that he kept you safe...”

   ◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

“Nathan”

“Y/n...please do this for me...I have to go after him...I can’t.” 

You knew what he was trying to say, that he could not leave with out Sam, while you hated the thought of Nathan leaving you were not going to stand in the way of him walking away from his brother. Not when you knew of the grief he went through the first time he had thought Sam had died.

“Then let me go with you.” You weakly asked him, you already knew the answer but you just wanted him to know that you did not want him to go alone.

Chuckling, Nathan pressed his forehead against yours then gave you a gentle kiss. “As much as I would like that....I can’t risk losing you or.../” he nervously placed his hand on your stomach. “Our child.” Stepping back he took a deep breath. 

“Elena, you make sure Sully takes good care of her.”

Elena sighed shaking her head though she gave Nathan a smile placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry Drake, I will just come back alive alright.”

   ◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Feeling yourself fall asleep, you kept your hand protectively on your stomach. “I can’t think straight knowing Nathan is-”

“Out their risking his life for treasure.” Elena teased.

Sighing you slouched into the couch more. “That but knowing Nathan he’s going to be doing something completely stupid.”

Elena sighed as she shifted her body so it was facing you. “This is Nathan we’re talking about y/n..plus he has Sam.”

“hmp.”

“And Sully...just take a nap alright...all this stress can’t be good for my little niece.”

Closing your eyes you gave your sister a nod adjusting your body so your head was resting on Elena’s shoulders, a small nap wouldn’t hurt.

 ◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇.

“Listen Drake...”

“Call me Nathan....please.”

The man gave Elena a sickeningly sweet smile, one that she’d love nothing more than to smack off. 

“You are to stay away from my sister!”

“She’s a grown woman, she can talk to who-” Giving a glance over in your direction you were to busy taking pictures of the coffin they found. “Ever she wants too.” Giving a wink to the blonde woman Nathan casually made his way towards you.

“Pretty amazing right?”

Giving him a wide smile, you nodded your head quickly. “It is, this is gonna be a great story.” Rolling your shoulders you turned your camera up to him snapping a picture.

“What was that for?”

Shrugging your shoulders you slipped your camera away. “I have my reasons.”

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Nathan winced as he pressed his back against a wall of a crumbling building, himself, Sam and Sully have found the location of Lima’s treasure but of course it meant that another group had to find it too. 

Getting shot at was not something he had in mind, the man wanted nothing more than to be at your side while you were in your last trimester of your pregnancy. He did not want to miss the birth of his child, what kind of father does that.

“God dammit! You assholes!” Gritting his teeth he shot at a few of the mercenary's. “Come on, calming thoughts Nate. All you gotta do is get through this and then you can get back home to your beautiful wife.”

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇.

Seeing you again was not something that Nathan Drake was expecting. After the messy break up you both shared he was content no content was t the word, he resigned himself on never seeing you again but here you were standing in front of him looking more beautiful than he last remembered. He could feel his heart clench painfully and he suddenly felt like an idiot for telling you his true feelings.

“Hey y/n.”

“Nathan.” Of course you were cold towards him, the man didn’t blame you for it. Biting his tongue he watched as you turned you back towards him, you were talking to someone though it was Elena that blocked you from his view.

“You’re a real prick you know that right?”

“Ya...I know.”

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇.

Nathan should have seen it coming, he should have pulled you out of the way. You shouldn’t have been the one to get hit with the blast, it should have been him. But now he had the risk of losing you, he knew that he had to move you but he did not want to injure you further.

“no-no-no...c’mon...you’re going to be fine.” Placing his hand under you lower back he tried not to flinch at the sound of your pained gasp’s as he and Elena carried you off to safety while Chloe became the look out for any of Lazarević’s men. While he knew he had to stop the man, he did not want to leave you alone. 

Carefully placing you against a crumbled pillar Nathan hesitantly grabbed your hand. “Hey y/n...how ya doin?” He did his best to smile but seeing you like this was killing him.

Chloe gave a glanced towards you, you were breathing to heavily for her liking. Lowering her head so that Elena would not hear she lent closer to Nathan. “Not good.”

Digging his nails into his palm Nathan frowned digging his nails into his palm. “You go to the gate as fast as you can.”

“What? No...no way! Don’t you dare take on this crusade.”

“I have too, just get her out of here.”

Before Chloe or Elena could protest Nathan took off running and for the two it felt like hours before the man came running back. He made some quip but Elena could tell his heart was not in. As the place came crumbling around them Nathan let out a cruse as he lifted you up bridle style in his arms. “We need to move faster.”

Getting to the village was the easy part but Nathan did not like how you went silent in his arms. Placing you down on a small cement bed he placed his hand against your cheek. “God no.no no...you’re going to be fine y/n...please.” Moving his hand to your shoulder he tried to shake you awake. “Y/n..hold on all right? Just hold on.” His voice sounding more panicked. “C’mon, stay with us.” Rubbing your shoulder he had to fight back the tears. “You’re going to be fine.”

Turning away, Elena could feel her own tears falling down her cheeks as Chloe tugged the woman into her arms doing her best to sooth her.

“You’re going to be just fine.....y/n don’t do this....y/n. ”

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇.

Waiting for any news of how your were doing, Nathan just prayed that you were okay. 

“It’s been a long, strange trip hasn’t it.” Chloe stepped close to Nathan, Elena must still be with you.

“Yes it has...you should play hero more often. It suit’s you.”

“Nah...say...tell me something Nat.”

“What?”

“Do you love her?”

Nathan frowned turning his full attention to Chloe. “Chloe I’m sorry I.”

“No...it’s fine....really it’s alright...just do yourself a favor cowboy and tell her.” Turning her attention to the voice’s both of them watched as Elena helped you out of the small home. 

Waving goodbye to Nathan, Chloe walked away from the two. Taking a breath in Nathan cleared out his throat. “Well well....look who’s not supposed to be out of bed.”

“Ya well my sister is a lousy patient, stubborn as hell.”

Letting out a scoff you gave your sister a small shove. “I’m not stubborn just restless.”

Shaking her head Elena glanced at you both, wetting her lips a small smile came to her face. “Say which way did Chloe go.”

Sighing Nathan pointed in the direction though he was surprised as the young woman walked off.

“You did good Nate.”  Lacing your arm through his you gave him a smile as gave his arm a small squeeze.

“Ya?”

Giving him a teasing smile you shook your head, your wounds may have hurt but it did feel good to be in Nathan’s arms again. “So where do we go from here?”

“HUh? I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Standing on your toes you pressed a small kiss to the corner of the man’s lips as Nathan wove his arms around your waist. Sighing he then pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you...I should have said that sooner.”

Grinning you wrapped your arms around his neck tugging him in for a kiss. “Isn’t that funny? I love you too Nathan Drake.”

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇.

“Nathan! Hey Nathan snap out of it!”

Blinking a few times Nathan didn’t even notice how long he had zoned out for. “What??”

“What is right? you were just standing their lookin at nothin!” Sam wrinkled his nose.

“I was just thinking about y/n..”

Sully let out a chuckle patting Nathan’s shoulder as they turned to the treasure, all three looked like a mess but they finally did it. “Let’s just get this on the plan and you can be back with her soon enough.”

As the three worked together, Nathan tensed hearing the familiar ring of phone going off.

“Can someone grab that.”

Letting out a grunt, Sam opened up the satellite phone though he nearly dropped it from what the voice said on the other line. “Uh we might wanna hurry this up.”

“What? Why?”

“Congratulations Nathan, Y/n is going into labor. You’re gonna be a dad.”

“What!”

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇.

Nathan knew that he must have looked like a crazy person but he had to get to you. He was surprised he didn’t get shot by the security guard the moment he ran into the hospital though he did feel bad for scaring the nurse due to his appearance.

“Mynameisnathandrakeandmywifeisgivingbirthwhatroomissheein?” The words came out a jumbled mess and just as he was about to be taken out Elena rushed over to him.

“Nathan you!...you look like shit.” Shaking her head the woman turned to the receptionist giving her a smile. “He’s the father...he’s an uh archaeologist...it’s why he looks so dirty.” It was the only thing that came to mind and before the receptionist could protest Elena dragged him off to the elevator.

“How is she? How’s Y/n! please tell me I didn’t miss the birth.”

Letting out a laugh, Elena shook her head. Patting him on the shoulder she sighed wiping the dirt off on her pants. “Y/n is fine Nathan and no...she did not give birth yet. Her water broke when I made that call...you...you do know how babies work right?”

Wrinkling his nose, Nathan shook his head as he shifted his weight from one foot to another becoming antsy. “OF course I do...I...I just want to see her.” It took all his will power not to rush out of the elevator as he slowly followed Elena to the room. 

Once he arrive he quickly slipped in, spotting you comfortably on the bed. Your hand on your stomach.

“Y/n! I’m here!”

“Nathan!” You couldn’t help but smile hearing the mans voice though your eyes went wide seeing his appearance. He was covered in dirt and what you hoped was dried mud. His hair was in complete disarray, shirt torn and while he may have a few scrapes and bruises he seemed to be fine.

“I can see that but Nathan.”

Grabbing your hand gently he pressed a small kiss to the ring on your finger. “Yes?”

“Go take a shower and change...Elena brought a bag for you.” Giving him a smile you ignore a contraction as Nathan let out a sigh. 

“Okay okay.” Giving you another kiss the man slipped into the bathroom to take a quick shower not wanting to leave you alone for much longer.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇.

Now cleaned and dressed Nathan made his way over to you, sitting in the seat grasping your hand. “I’m sorry for being late...for almost missing our child’s birth.”

“Nathan…”While you were touched by what he was saying you did not want him to feel guilty for it. “It’s not your fault...just next time. Try not to go on anymore treasure hunts when I’m pregnant.” You were trying to make light of the situation despite doing your best to ignore the creeping pain though you were sure the baby was coming now.

“Like I should have been the one to take you to the hospital not Elena.”

Taking a deep breath you glanced over at the man,he was hunched over not looking you in the eye“Nathan.”

“I mean I get that she is your sister but I’m your husband…I shouldn’t have been looking for the next clue.”

“Nathan!”

Gritting your teeth, while you loved your husband and while you did think that his rambles were cute you just wanted him to shut up so he could get a doctor.

“Huh? what?” Nathan quickly looked you over to see if anything was wrong.

“Get me our doctor…the baby is coming now and if you don’t grab her I am going to kill you.”

“Right!” Scratching his cheek he pushed the chair back before he rushed off to grab the doctor. While it didn’t take long to find her, it seemed like it took even long to push the baby out.

Letting out a scream you pushed whenever your obstetrician told you too as Nathan held onto your hand.

“Nathan.” Biting your tongue you squeezed his hand tightly. “I can’t do this.” You could feel the tears slipping down your cheeks as Nathan let out his own small laugh as he brushed a strand of your hair away from your face.

“Are you kidding me beautiful. You know how many place’s you and your sister..and Sully helped me discover.”Bringing your hand to your lips he gave it a soft kiss.

“Just…Don’t let go of my hand, okay?.” While he hated seeing you in so much pain, he was excited to see his child soon. “I will always protect you.You can do this.”

Nodding your head you swallowed thickly squeezing Nathan’s hand tightly, with his encouraging words you pushed again missing the grimace on the mans face from your tight grip.

As time went by you felt a small amount of relief hearing your obstetrician letting you know it was time for the final push and went it was done you heard a tiny cry followed by Nathan’s relived laugh.

“She’s so tiny y/n.” Pressing a small kiss to the side of your head, Nathan watched as one of the nurse’s took the newborn away then turned to the obstetrician who was fixing you up.

“You did great beautiful,,,I’m so proud of you.”

Chuckling you gave him a tired smile leaning into his embrace once he settled himself next to you on the bed. You forced to keep yourself awake, you wanted to hold your newborn before you fell asleep.

Once the nurse came back with the baby, the woman gently placed her in your arms showing what to do. Looking down at the sleeping bundle in awe you glanced up at Nathan seeing that his eyes were tearing up.

“She’s beautiful….perfect…our little Cassandra.” Hesitantly reaching out, he let his thumb gently brush against her cheek.

“Your mother would be proud Nathan.” Smiling up at him you let out a small yawn.

“You think she would?”

“I know she would, though we should probably tell Sam, Sully and Elena.”

Scratching his cheeks he nodded his head seeing you drift off, clearing out his throat he gently took the newborn in his arms sitting in the chair, cradling her gently. “Ya…later, just let me bask in this bliss but get some rest y/n…you deserve it.”

“Hmm you’re right…I do.” Wincing, you adjusted your body to watch your husband, you managed to grab your phone beside your table. Biting your lip you took a few pictures before placing it back down as your eyes started to close.

“I’ll hold her till you wake up..or uh till she needs to eat.”

Snorting, you smiled for a moment. “Sounds good honey.”

“Oh…y/n…so I guess this mean’s that you can call me Daddy Drake…right.”

Groaning you tugged the hospital pillow closer to your head. “Nathan!”

“What!” Holding his newborn close, Nathan gave you a small grin. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Meeting you on that dock, nearly losing you....that was something he did not want to think about but at least he got to confess his feelings to you then finally asking you to marry him.

With everything you two went through, everything that you had to put up with he knew he was a lucky man. “You’re gonna be loved Cassandra, you will have a happy family.” 

“I promise.”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Tokyo Love Story (Part 5) The Truth of Black Swan

The following Scene takes elements and themes from the novel scenes and game quests surrounding Akira and Kogure Sakurai and weaves them into the MCs journey in a way that is meaningful. This scene does not appear in the Novel or the Game.

Please Enjoy

You’re riding in the passenger side of Chance’s Audi R8, the city lights flashing across the pale makeup on your face. Caesar might have turned up his nose at the car, but you found it very stylish and unpretentious. It was a sports car you could drive to work. You stare out the window at the many people walking down the streets. Tokyo’s nightlife was just as vibrant as the daytime. Only, instead of being locked in the offices for work, people spilled into the streets to visit karaoke bars and eat street food. There were also plenty of couples holding hands and laughing. Girls in skirts and women in tight dresses walking with friends. Men in sports jackets and a few in suits and ties. The people your age were casual in t-shirts and jeans.

When you imagined going to the big city, it was something like this. Having lots of friends, going out on the town, enjoying food and walking under lights.

Chance’s phone vibrated. “Yes, she’s with me, we’re on our way to the safe spot, notify me of the all clear.”

His expression was grim and he spoke like a soldier reporting to his commander. You’d only seen him as a carefree guy but now he was acting as a member of the Devil Clan, a Yakuza organization. Looking up at this, you notice that he’s no less muscled than Caesar, but he was a bit more wiry and lithe.

“We’ll give it a couple of hours to let things calm down before taking you back.” He said, stuffing the phone in his pocket.

“Thanks,” you say. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did Izanami really love Izanagi?” You rest your head against the window.

“That’s a matter of philosophical debate, even among White King Descendents. Her motives were selfish. She fooled him and lied to him. But when he betrayed her, no one can deny her emotional reaction had to be rooted in some genuine attachment.” He maneuvered the car as he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road. “The common consensus is, for dragons, love is never the goal. It’s a means to an end. Once that end is fulfilled, love fades or dies completely. If the object of the dragon’s love refuses to cooperate with the end goal, that love can quickly turn to hatred. Humans pursue love for the sake of it. But Dragons do not. The emotions are real, but they’re not the goal.”

“That seems manipulative.” You say.

“It can be. Keep in mind that Izanagi wasn’t exactly the best example of human love either. Bottom line, it’s not good for humans and dragons to fall in love. They both will end up hurt somehow. But it does happen.”

He keeps driving until the city spires flatten to more residential spaces. You pull into a small park with rolling terraformed hills and tiled roof shelters. Chance killed the lights on his car and opened the door, getting out with a briefcase. “We can hide out here for a while.”

At the center of the park is a large dark lake. The stars couldn’t be seen over the lights of the city and the moon was shrouded by dense clouds. He leads you by the hand through a pea gravel path. You could feel your cheeks grow warm. The idea of running away to hide from the world with a man was depicted in TV shows you watched and in magazines you read, but now it was happening to you.

“It’s going to rain tonight, so let's stay under the shelter until we get the all clear.” He said.

He settled you down on a bench and sat next to you. He was handsome, with his red hair in his ponytail and his green eyes in the dark. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Now comes the hard part.” He opened the briefcase and took out a thin yellow folder.

“Ruri Kazama wanted me to give this to you.”

You accept the folder and open it. Much to your shock, you immediately recognize the title. Black Swan Harbor Initiative! 

“You’re from Siberia right?” He looks at you. Those eyes glittered like jewels.

“Where did you get this?” You ask, anxiously flipping through the pages. There were photos of Black Swan Bay, just as you remembered it. There were even photos of orphans that you remembered, ghosts of the past. Vera, Khorkina, Anton… you pause. A knife of pain piercing your heart.

Renata’s picture stared at you, smiling from the yellowing paper, her eyes sparkled too, even in black and white.

“Ruri Kazama had it. I don’t know what it all means or where he got it from.” He reaches over and flips the pages back to the beginning. “He wants you to understand your situation. The reason why Black Swan Harbor was created. Black Swan Bay was like a dragon graveyard. Even though Cassell holds a lot of ancient artifacts, Black Swan Bay had the actual specimens for direct study of the creatures. You were created there as part of a study on making perfect, super hybrids.”

“What?” You whisper.

“I’m only telling you what I read. None of this makes sense to me either. You’re an 18 year old girl from 20 years ago. I…” He shook his head. “It must have to do with your bloodline, that you can rest so long and retain your youth. Anyway, because you’re not perfect, you will eventually become a deadpool. You’re a ghost. There’s no changing this.” 

He flipped over a page in the folder leading to Anton’s file. “This is from one of the research papers. The average lifespan of the Black Swan Bay children is 20 years before they lose their grip on humanity. This orphan was eliminated because he’d reached the end of his life.”

You stare blankly at the page. You remembered Dr. Herzog tested hybrid children thoroughly and then, around age 20, some were selected to go to school in Moscow. Back then, you had excitedly chatted with Z about how one year you might be selected. But instead of feeling excited for you, he led you to a lab. There, you saw Anton, who had been selected to go to the capital, sitting in a wheelchair. Despite his power to stop a bullet, he couldn’t stand.

Dr. Herzog was like your father. So your mind rejected his words when he said that going to Moscow was a lie. And when he shot and killed Anton, it was something your mind couldn’t fully process. This all happened 20 years ago but for you it was only a few weeks ago, and you realized you still couldn’t process it. It was like a missing puzzle piece, floating on the side table, waiting for its place in the picture. And now it snapped into place. 

Anton wasn’t ever going to Moscow. None of you were. Khorkina, Vera, Renata… You were all going to die by euthanasia. As deadpool.

Chance reached over and massaged your shoulder silently. You closed your eyes. No wonder Ruri Kazama told you that you were a perishing flower. No wonder he sang that happiness was fleeting. Ruri Kazama knew that you were going to turn into Deadpool. That you were going to die.

“So I only have a year and a half left?” You ask after a moment.

“I’m afraid that’s the maximum. You might have even less. I’m sorry.” Chance says. He drops his hand in his lap.

You take a deep breath, absorbing this terrible blow in still silence. “Thank you for telling me. I will show this to Caesar.” You close the folder and sigh again. Your hands are pinching each other hard to stem your roiling emotions.

Chance marvels at your reaction. “You’re a really strong woman. A lot of people would scream and cry in denial at this news.”

“I’m strong because my friends are strong.” You look out over the water, expressionless. The reflection of the moon peeked from its cloudy veil. It rippled but when it stilled, you could see the shadow of the moon, shaped like a rabbit. You weren’t sure what you could do to stop this eventual demise. Caesar promised he wouldn’t let you die. No… it wasn’t a promise, he just wouldn’t let it happen.

“Hm.” He chuckled, elbowing you. “Do I still have a chance to get a star-heart ticket?” He was attempting to lighten the mood.

You allow yourself the distraction. “Maybe.” You smirk and swing your legs under the bench. The wind was starting to blow, bringing the smell of rain, pulling leaves and cherry blossoms down from the trees to land on the water and make little ripples. The gusts disturbed the glassy water. It wasn’t the time for cherry blossoms, but odd weather had caused them to bloom twice this year. “Let me ask you something to test you. Do you seek death?”

Chance gave it some thought. “It’s not a matter of seeking it. I know it's coming. I just try not to think about the future. Live my life one day at a time, appreciate every moment.”

You nod and your eyebrows lift. It was a good answer. “I’ll ask you something else. Given the circumstances, if you knew you had to give up your life so I could live, would you do it?”

He laughed. “In a heartbeat!”

You turn to him and frown.

“What? Don't tell me you don’t like that answer. What do you expect me to say? It’s an honor for a man to give up his life for a lovely woman.” The stiff breeze had teased some hair out of your comb. He brushes your hair  from your face and tucks it behind your ear. The wind stirs the flowers in your hair while he watched you.

You shake your head. “Well, in that case, you’re not getting a star heart ticket.” You cross your arms and look away

“Oh come on, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” He leaned forward, trying to catch your gaze when you turned away from him. “What am I supposed to do? Just let you die? Look at you! You’re beautiful and smart and … and… you’re so strong!” Chance was shaking his head in confusion. “If that’s not the right thing to do, please tell me the answer.”

You turn to him again, your eyes blazing. “And you’re not beautiful and resourceful and strong? Why is my life, somehow, worth more than yours?”

Chance’s good humor suddenly fades and he lowers his eyes, damping his mood like a lantern lowering its wick. He turned back to face the lake, looking down on the ground, but his mind was somewhere far away. When he speaks again, it’s with a lump in his throat. He swallows hard. “You have people. I don’t have anyone any more.”

You knew that look. You had that look. It was the look of someone who had nothing else to lose, so why not give up his life for you? You reach out and put your hand over his and look him in the eye, even as the fires of grief ignite in your chest.

“The Hydra came for my family last week. We all lived in the same apartment block, but we’d never done anything. We were just an extended family buying out condos and dealing in real estate. But they were merciless. All my brothers and their wives were killed and f…” His voice caught and his eyes sparkled with tears. “My five nieces and nephews were taken prisoner.”

“Prisoner?”

“Yes!” His voice turned hoarse in distress. “Back in World War II, Hydra had these black prisons to lock up unstable hybrids. When the government found out about them, they ordered them closed. But twenty years ago, they started operating them again. If you resist and fight, they kill you. If you give yourself up… they lock you away in those prisons forever. I had been working when the raid happened. When I turned the corner on my way home, the whole apartment block was on fire! There was nothing I could do, so I ran away. That’s how I ended up at Club Takamagahara. That’s where Ruri Kazama found me.”

He turns back to you, his green eyes as dark as an endless forest. “It’s either death or prison and then death for me. So if I can make my death mean you get to go free and shine under the sun like you did tonight… I will absolutely take that.”

Your heartaches in sympathy. You scoot closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder and he wraps his strong arm around you and holds you close. “You’re not going to accept my next words, Chance. Because I didn’t want to accept them either. But I will say them because they’re the truth. Chance… you have to live.”

He let out a single bitter laugh, but he turned away and blinked away tears. “Didn’t you listen? Life isn’t in the cards.”

“You think it isn’t. I didn’t think so either.” You reach up and turn his face back to you. The tears wet your fingertips and sink into our nails. You’re willing him to listen but you understand that it might just be too difficult to accept. “But… you will be shocked at how long you can live if you really try.”

“What? Really try? Are you saying my whole family didn’t try hard enough?” His voice breaks with grief and anger.

“That’s not what I’m saying. If death comes then it does, but what I’m saying is, you shouldn't just… give up your life. Not for me. Not for anyone. Make death fight you for it.” You whisper. Your throat hurts. Your eyes burned..

“And then if I don't give up my life for you… what will happen to you?” Tears were slipping down his face and he trembled against you.

“I will fight too.” You reach out and twine your fingers in his hair. “We will both fight death.” You look up at him, determination filling your dark eyes, defying reality. You knew he probably thought you were a fool, that you were just fantasizing that you could both fight the fate you were given, hit the ball out of the park, and live happily ever after. “What’s the point of love if you both don’t make it out? If Izanami taught me anything, it’s better to end up in the Yomi-No-Kuni together.”

He sighed softly and he leaned forward until your noses touched, your faces wrapped in night shadow. “You already gave me permission.” He whispered.

“I know…” You rise up to meet him halfway. This kiss was nothing like Z’s. Z took you like something that belonged to him. In this case, your kiss was a gift, a bow to tie your words in an oath upon his heart. 

Chance was overcome. He rested his head against your neck, crying. He held you so tightly your ribs resisted against his arms to breathe. You held him like that until his sobs subsided. But you were in no hurry to part, instead you leaned against each other, watching the wind play against the water until your emotions calmed. Every few minutes, he would sigh deeply and kiss your cheek.

In the distance, thunder rolled. Chance’s phone buzzed. He reached down and looked down at it. “That's all clear. Let’s go.” He gave you one more kiss. “Here, you keep this.” He tucked the folder into your dress. “Thank you. I..” He paused for a moment and then just stood up.

He doesn’t remove his hand from yours as you make your way back to the car, but as you’re turning the corner on the path to the parking lot, he yanks you back! “Damn it!” He hisses.

The car was surrounded by men in black trench coats armed with swords and powerful guns. The way out of the park was blocked by a huge van. The park was so small, it would only take a minute to penetrate the entire space and there was nowhere to hide. Chance urgently whispers. “Quick! Let’s go to the other side!” 

How could they have found you? Kaguya?

There was no way to hurry and stay silent. The pea gravel made too much noise. If you stepped off the path the surrounding vegetation rustled against your clothing. You can only use your method of stepping in his foot prints to hide your own sound and it was hard in your ornate gown. Your heart was screaming with adrenaline as you started to hear voices behind you. In the back of the park, behind the trees and fountains, there was a high eight foot stone wall that enclosed it from the rest of the neighborhood. You hurry to it.

“I’ll lift you over the wall!” He said. “If you jump, you can make it over!”

“No, I’m not leaving you. We need to find a way out together.” You say, planting your feet.

“You���re serious? There’s no way! We can’t fight all those guys!” He hissed.

More voices are coming. You must have been heard! Bright beaming flashlights are sweeping the park. The men from Hydra are bounding up the hill behind you! The group fanned out. One member was sweeping up against the wall you were next to and heading straight for you. More voices are coming from the opposite direction up the path ahead of you. Apparently, the Hydra following you had alerted more men on the other side of the park who were coming around the other side to encircle you and cut off your escape.

Chance pulled you along the wall and together you crawled carefully against it, staying away from the ones approaching from behind and getting to the other side of this dragnet. As you came close to those approaching from the front, you noticed that there was no one sweeping the wall! If you could sneak past through this gap, you could make it past them!

You hurry through the gap and crouch still. The Hydra were only a few feet from you. You could see the shine of their leather shoes and hear them talking, but you couldn’t understand their Japanese. One of them laughed.  All they had to do was sweep their flashlights to their right to find you. You both hold your breath even though you felt breathless from running and staying low to the ground. You tremble there until their shoes turn away. Their footsteps finally started to fade, but you couldn’t wait for them to fade completely. 

“There’s a backgate this way.” Chance whispered as quietly as he could.

You could see it. It was covered in vines and looked like a maintenance entrance. It didn’t look locked but even if it was, it was less than four feet high  and you can both make it over. Your heart beams with hope. He returns your smile. You couldn’t wait to tell Caesar. He was right. His justice was right. You don't have to leave friends behind.

A sudden sharp hiss and a burst of wind rushes by your head! A silver projectile blade cut through the air and embedded itself into Chance's calf! Chance gasped and howled in agony! He fell to the ground, clutching his leg. You scurry towards the gate and dive behind a statue of a praying Buddha.

Chance is writhing on the ground, and moving away from something looming in the dark. Someone is approaching him as he scoots frantically away, begging. “No… No!  No! Please!”

Out of the shadows steps a young dark haired man. His silver-blue long sword glowed in the dark like a shattered piece of moonlight. His trenchcoat caught the air and it waved like the hem of the Grim Reaper’s cloak. He stood over Chance like a towering god, gazing at him with frigid black eyes.

Chisei Gen!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Smalltown Bringdown 3

Warnings: blood, violence, groping, more to be added.

This is dark!biker!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your new job does not offer the stability you crave.

Note: So, I’m thinking 4 to 5 chapters. I had another migraine last night which meant an early sleepy time for me. I work today so I’ll be running around as you guys get to read this! To those who take the time to read, thank you. Love you guys!

Please, leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your mother wasn’t happy about your new job. Neither were you. Yet, you couldn’t tell her why you accepted the job at The Asp or what Bucky said; what he had implied. You fed her some tripe about the pay and benefits and you didn’t lie when you said it was all you could get. He made sure of that.

You were dressed all in black; jeans, long-sleeved tee, a pair of narrow toed boots. You were nervous. You liked The Saucer because it was quaint, you dreaded The Asp because it was anything but. A biker bar, the seediest place in town where boozers and gamblers alike spent their cheques. Your mother always told you to avoid the place. For good reason; your father had never returned from that very bar.

You ran your hands along your stomach and down your thighs. You took a breath and pulled on your jacket as you turned away from the mirror. Your mother was in the kitchen, just home from work. You walked through and Ash danced at your feet. The speckled Dachsund always thought a coat meant he was going on an adventure.

“Before you leave,” Your mother said as she wiped her hands.

“Not really hungry, mom,” You grumbled.

“I know, I know,” She rounded the counter and grabbed her purse. “It’s not food… for once.”

She pulled out a small cylinder and held it out.

“Is that mace?” You chuckled.

“Oh yeah,” She shoved it into your hand. “Any of those boys start giving you a hard time, you give ‘em an extra spray for me.”

“Mom.” You shook your head. She wasn’t making you any less nervous.

“Ash has a good sixth sense. He didn’t like that man one bit,” She crossed her arms. “And I’m inclined to share the sentiment.”

“Mom, look, this is what I got,” You grabbed your own bag and dropped the mace inside. “And you know if I got him as my shadow, no one else is gonna give me anything.”

“You be careful, honey,” She grabbed your shoulders and drew you close. “Maybe… apply to college again.”

“Mom, it’s a little late for that and you know I can’t afford it.” You hugged her and pulled away. “I can handle myself. I have so far.”

“God,” She touched her forehead. “You sound like your father.”

You stuck your tongue out at her and went to the door. 

“Mom,” You turned back, “I love you. It’ll be okay.”

“Love you, too,” She said glumly, “I’ll leave your dinner in the stove.”

“Alright,” You took a step out into the hall, “Thanks.”

💀

It was almost dark out as you walked up to The Asp. You stood across the street and looked up at the moniker. Cleopatra was chipped and faded but her eyes shone beneath the spotlights. It was more Liz Taylor than the actual queen. You crossed the road and held your head up as best you could as approached the bouncer.

“Here for a job,” You said plainly. He didn’t bother to card you.

“I heard,” He grumbled as he pulled a smoke out. “The man’s in there somewhere. Waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Lonny,” You pushed through to the dim barroom. 

Lucy was pouring a pint at the bar for a man in a tattered flannel. He slid his money across and she returned his change. He tossed a few coins over the wood and took a swig. You neared and leaned a few feet away from the man. Lucy wiped her hands on the towel tucked into her apron tied around her rounding stomach. A pregnant barmaid was a peculiar sight.

“Hey, didn’t believe him when he said you were starting,” She smiled as she waved you around. “Grab an apron,” She pointed to the pegs along the wall. You grabbed a plain black smock and tied it around your waist; pockets big enough for a notebook and change, though it reached no further than the middle of your thigh. “I’ll show you the ropes; figure if I can get it, you can.”

“Figure you’re right,” You followed her behind the bar. You glanced at her faded roots that topped her yellowed bleach blond hair. Little different than the girl who’d gabbed loudly in the back of your Lit class. 

“Beer,” She pointed to the shelf of pint glasses, “Wine,” She continued to the stemmed ones, “Whiskey, scotch, liquors. Me and Bobby do most of the pouring so you worry about beer and serving.”

“Alright,” You followed along and she turned around. 

“Just as they’re labeled,” She pointed to the taps. “This is water, soda,” She touched the hoses along the counter. “Grab a cloth and a tray. Looks like we’re startin’ to get our usual crowd.”

“Thanks,” You said and she gave you a mocking smile.

“Oh, and there’s a little closet just inside the kitchen. Put your stuff in there.” She advised.

You did as she said and took your small notebook and pen from your bag. You grabbed a round tray and a cloth from the stack of folded linen. You tucked it in your pocket along with your notebook and went back to the barroom. Lucy glanced over at you as she rubbed her stomach and nodded to the group of men around a table by the far wall.

You smiled at her and strutted around the bar. You recognized the man with his back to you. Steve Rogers sat with four other men, their voices a buzz that permeated the bar. You held back your venom as you approached and stopped just by his shoulder as you greeted them with your simulated cheer.

“Can I get ya anything?” You asked.

“Beer, the us--” Steve began but as he looked to you his voice died. He smirked. “Hey, doll.”

“Hello,” You said to the table. “So, what’s the usual?”

“Just a bud,” He turned in his chair and slung his arm over the back. “Well, pardon me, I just… seeing you here is… funny.”

“Funny.” You repeated. “That it is.” You looked to the rest of his party. “And the rest of you?”

“Coors,” Danny raised two fingers in a half salute and the rest of the men chimed in as you tallied their order in your head.

“Right, I’ll be back.”

You spun and felt a light pat on your ass. “Thanks, doll,” Steve said and you ignored him, not even missing a step.

You went to the bar and leaned your tray on it. “A Bud, two Coors, and two whiskey neat.” You said. “Extra foam on the bud if you can.”

She scoffed and went about her work. “That Steve’s silly but he means no harm.” She said.

“Mhmm,” You pursed your lips. “No harm at all, eh?”

She handed you the drinks one at a time and you set them on the tray.

“Really, not so bad here, once you get to know them,” She sang. “And it’s good to be on their side.”

“I’m sure,” You balanced the tray and turned away.

You returned to the table and smiled as best you could. You began to unload your drinks; whiskeys, Coors, then the single Bud. As you leaned in to set Steve’s pint before him, you felt another brush along your ass, followed by a pinch. You paused and sneered at him.

“Sorry, doll, hand slipped,” He smirked.

“Yeah?” You looked at his beer and dumped it in his lap. “Oops, hand slipped.”

He stood and the beer dripped down his jeans as he looked down in shock. The bar was silent but for his cursing and you backed up as he pulled the wet hem of tee away from his stomach. “You little bitch.”

“Sorry, it’s my first day,” You grinned. “I’m still getting the hang of things.”

“Don’t be fucking smart,” He lunged at you and grabbed your arm. Your tray clattered to the floor as he yanked you close. “You work for us now, means you belong to club. You belong to all of us.”

He turned you and gripped the back of your neck as he forced you against the table. He squeezed until you bent over and gasped in pain. 

“Get off of me!” You tried to kick out at him blindly.

“Do you know what that means? Hmm? Belonging to the club,” He slapped your ass with his other hand. “Boys, you wanna have some fun tonight?”

“She doesn’t belong to the club,” A deep voice cut through the dull music rising from the jukebox. The air stilled and you breathed heavily against the wood. “Let her go, Steve. I’m sure it was an accident.”

“She poured beer on me.” Steve growled.

“And you pinched her ass. Must have scared her and caused her to spill on you,” Bucky’s boots sounded across the floorboards as he neared. “It was an accident, wasn’t it, honey?”

He came up on your other side. 

“Y-yeah,” You sputtered. “Yeah. Like you said.”

“See?” Bucky said. “So, let her go.”

Steve released you roughly and huffed. You stood and Bucky bent to pick up your tray. He held it out to you and you took it with a mumbled thanks. 

“Steve, go get dried off and she’ll get you fresh pint,” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Oh, and let this be a warning.” He squeezed and looked around at his men. “She’s not the club’s. She’s mine. Any man finds his hands wandering and they might just find them gone.” He said through his teeth. “Got it?”

The men agreed at once, a flurry of ascent. You backed away and quickly retreated to the bar before he could turn his attention on you. Lucy’s eyes were wide as she watched you.

“I didn’t know were his,” She gaped. “You’re a lucky girl.”

“I’m not,” You snarled as leaned on the bar. “Go on, need that Bud.”

💀

At the end of the night, you cleaned up the empties and wiped the tables. You counted your tips and yawned as you zipped up the coins in your purse. You hung your apron and helped Lucy with the bar. You grabbed your jacket and signed the time sheet. She said her goodbye and waited for Bobby to finished in the kitchen. 

You headed for the door but were stopped by your name. You turned slowly as Bucky stood at the other end of the bar. “Gotta talk to you.” He said.

“About?” You asked.

“My office.” He replied. “Just work stuff.”

You tried not to roll your eyes and shrugged. He turned and you followed him across the barroom. He led you into a room opposite the restrooms. He waited for you to enter and was sure to close the door behind you. You paused and glanced over your shoulder. His hand rested on the knob as he watched you.

“Go on, sit,” He gestured to the leather chair that faced a desk. “You been on your feet all night.”

“To be fair,” You stayed where you were. “I’d rather just home and go to bed.”

“I know this isn’t home but the bed part I can accommodate.” He snickered. His arm rubbed against yours as he passed you and sat on the other side of the desk. “We gotta go over a few things about this job.”

You sighed and dragged your feet to the chair. You sat and crossed your legs as you hugged your purse. You stared at him without emotion.

“You understand those men didn’t try anything further because of my say so,” He pointed to the door. “Now, I could’ve let them and what do you think would happen? Who would stop it?”

You gulped and stay silent.

“You know the cops, they don’t come here for nothing more than a drink,” He shook his head. “Maybe a bit of pool but they don’t come here to work, you understand?”

“Yes,” You uttered quietly. “I understand.”

“I didn’t have to do that. Didn’t have to claim you but you went and poured that beer all over Steve. Like you want him to do something.” He laughed. “Trust me, you don’t want that.”

You looked away and shifted in the chair.

“But I did it because I don’t want anyone else touching you. As the leader of this club, I share many things, I make sure my men have what they need, but you are mine,” He said the last three words deliberately. “I know you don’t get it, not yet, but you will.”

“You’re fucked,” You hissed. “This place, is fucked. Who are you? King Shit of… Birch? Birch?! This pile of trash.”

“I’m the king of your world,” His jaw ticked. “Now, I can be… a kind king and patient even as you… adjust but you don’t talk to me like this in front of anyone. I mean it because the moment that tongue lashes out I’m gonna have to lash back.”

You shuddered and looked down at your purse. “I just…” You slowly looked up. “You tellin’ me you can’t get a woman who wants to be here? The standards around this town aren’t that high.”

“I can get anyone I want,” He smirked. “And I think you’re just realizing that, honey.”

The breath went out of you. The tone of his voice, the heat in his eyes. You struggled not to look away. You bit down. His eyes drifted down and his lips parted hungrily.

“We’re just about finished here but one more thing,” His voice was dusky. “There’s a dress code. Jeans and short sleeves. A nice hint of what’s beneath… skirts at the thigh.” He ran his tongue across his lip. “Now, you can go… should go before I change my mind.”

You stood. Your nerves bounced around your chest wildly. You gripped your purse and nodded. 

“Got it.” You muttered.

“Right. See you tomorrow night,” He sat back and pushed his legs apart. He winked at you as you neared the door. “You have a good one.”

“You too,” You eked out before you slipped out. 

You closed the door behind you and stumbled numbly through the barroom. You couldn’t get home quick enough.

💀

When you got home, your mother was asleep. You were thankful for it. She would ask you how your night was. You didn’t wanna talk about it. Ever. Didn’t want to think about the dread of those to come. The fear that bubbled in your stomach. So unfamiliar to you. Growing up in a small town, there wasn’t much to be afraid of because every day was the same.

You turned the stove on and waited for the ravioli in the glass pan to heat up. You took it out and sat alone at the table. The light overhead shone a spotlight on you as Ash snored in the hallway. You ate without tasting. You opened the book you’d left on the table and opened it to your mark. 

‘I'm as pure as the driven slush.’

You laughed to yourself and swallowed. Lu was right, Tallulah was funny. Cynical. And ballsy. You admired her. You wondered for a moment how she would deal with this life. With this town. Well, she never belonged in a small town, she would’ve found her way out.

You cleared your plate and rinsed it. You set it in the rack and checked the doors. They were locked. An old habit; some would call it a compulsion. They said in small towns people don’t lock their doors. In this one, they always did.

When you were a girl, your father gone, the reason obscured from you, you imagined it was the monsters that hid in the night who took him from you. In a way, that was true.

You were tired but restless. You couldn’t help but hear Bucky’s words in your head. See his eyes staring back at you; menacing and dilated. A predator tracking its prey. That’s what you were; you both knew it. There was no way out.

Your mother said you took after your father. Had he died protecting her too? Or for his own selfishness? It didn’t matter, he’d left you both behind.

[astralaffairs]

voltaire to versace 03 | thomas jefferson TEASER

title: voltaire to versace 03 TEASER

pairing: professor!thomas jefferson x reader

words: a lil over 10k

warnings: sex jokes n references again, dolley simping for james again, but probably more this time, implied sex except dolley’s having it instead of mc, maria and angelica are girlfriends, lafayette is basically everyone’s plug for weed so like,, drug references and alcohol references??

desc: from francis bacon to foucault, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, your burberry-clad professor gives you the feeling it won’t be quite the snoozefest you’d expected.

tags: @lunariasilver @tinywhim @nyxie75 @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @cubedtriangle @lunariasilver @lexylovesfandoms @fanfic-addict-98 @stephyra17 @notebookgirl30 @exorcisms-with-elmo @kmsmedine @itshaileyn @honeyand-roses — let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts!

"Are you sure I was included in that invite?" Y/N's voice was skeptical as she crossed the green toward Thomas's office. Apparently, Dolley and James had spent their afternoon together, taking a walk through the city. (When Dolley told Y/N that the two-mile loop near the Lincoln Memorial had taken them two hours to walk through, she had a sneaking suspicion walking wasn't all they were doing. Hopefully, they'd at least escaped the watchful eye of our oversized 16th president.)

"Yes, I'm certain you were," Dolley insisted from the other end of the phone's line. "He said it'd be great if I brought you."

"... This sounds suspiciously like a pity invite."

"It isn't a pity invite!" Y/N could hear the indignance in her voice.

"Dolley, why, exactly, would he want me there if it wasn't a pity invite?"

"... Because you're my best friend, and he's decided to make an effort to get to know you better?"

She laughed. "As much as I appreciate this idealized James Madison, I have a feeling it was more to the effect of 'I just saw your roommate and feel obligated to invite her'," Y/N corrected her. "But go to the party without me! Don't let me hold you back from having your fun, alright?"

"Please come? It wouldn't be the same without you." Dolley's voice was high, containing traces of what almost smelled like desperation. "It'll make me much more comfortable to have you along."

Y/N groaned. "So when you and James go make out in the bathroom, I'm supposed to, what, play truth or dare with all the other PhD candidates?"

"Why not?" Dolley's tone was mild, which made Y/N roll her eyes.

"No offense to James's friends, but I'm not sure I want to spend an evening making stunted small talk with them."

"You're such a warm person, though! You'd be quite alright."

"It'd be awkward!"

"Please, Y/N? I'll beg you if that's what it'll take."

She scowled at how soft, forlorn Dolley's voice had become. As far as she was concerned, this was akin to emotional manipulation. "Does it really mean that much to you?"

"Yes. I like him so much."

She sighed. "I'm gonna say yes solely because I have somewhere to be and can't deal with this argument anymore. But you owe me."

Y/N could almost picture Dolley’s sappy smile. “Thank you so much, dear. You’re too good to me.”

"Yeah, yeah, what else is new?" Her words elicited a laugh from Dolley, and Y/N continued, “But you know I’d do pretty much whatever you asked if you asked it in that I’m-about-to-cry voice, so I’m not sure this relationship is healthy for me anymore.”

“Oh, of course; I’m truly a parasite,” Dolley sighed. “Taking you in as my roommate, paying for your ramen — how evil of me.”

“I pay half the rent, and ramen costs fifty cents!” Y/N defended, but the words were lighthearted nonetheless. “Next time you give up five perfectly good hours of a Friday night so that I can get laid, we’ll call it even.”

“Don’t make any calls about Friday just yet. You haven’t even seen James’s friends.” Dolley’s voice was just teasing enough to placate Y/N. “I may not be the only one having some fun.”

“Have you even seen James’s friends?” Y/N asked dubiously, and Dolley’s silence told her all there was to know. “That’s what I thought. He’s an econ student, so it’s probably gonna be about eighty percent entitled rich men attending school on family money.”

“Or they could all be just your type,” Dolley reasoned, but by then, any efforts to talk Y/N out of her convictions were futile. “Tall, hot, and older.”

“First off, I don’t have a type, and second, just because you’re dating an ‘older man’,” — The final two words were said mockingly — “doesn’t mean that his older friends aren’t still douches.”

“I hate to have to be the one to break it to you, but that is absolutely your type.”

“Based on what?”

“That professor of yours?”

“Dolley!” Y/N scowled, turning down the volume on her call just in case some passing pedestrians were notorious gossips with super-hearing. It was certainly possible. “Can you please stop talking about him like that? Don’t make it a thing,” she murmured, jaw tense.

“Oh, we’re well past that, dear,” Dolley said matter-of-factly, and Y/N could only roll her eyes. “But if you’ve agreed to the party, I won’t push my luck.”

“Smart choice,” she muttered bitterly. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go. Talk to you later tonight?”

“Of course.”

With that, she hung up the phone before Dolley could take advantage of her giving mood and start making further outlandish demands, tucking it into her coat pocket as she pushed open the door to Melos Hall. Unfortunately for her, the elevator was broken, and Thomas's office was several flights of stairs above her.

After at least eight long pauses for her to catch her breath, heaving as she leaned against the railing in the stairwell, and three stomach cramps, Y/N knocked on his door. "Anybody home?"

"C'mon in." His voice was soft, muffled through the door, and she opened it to find him all but slumped on his desk, resting his head on his hand as he graded papers he appeared to be rather cross with, and with more of said papers covering the entirety of the desk’s surface (and much of the floor). He glanced up when she entered, and a soft grin split his expression. "Hey, I thought that was you."

"I'm in absolute awe of your pattern-recognition skills, really," she replied, tone dry as she let the door fall shut behind her, and despite the playful smile she wore, Thomas rolled his eyes.

"You actually here for anything, or am I gonna have to kick you out?"

She laughed. "I'm not here to derail your work, I swear." He raised a dubious eyebrow. "I was just stopping by to let you know that, assuming it's still on the table, I'd love the TA position."

"Oh, yeah?" His smile widened almost imperceptibly at her words, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "'M glad to hear it. Could've just shot me an email, though."

She shrugged. "I was headed this way anyway. Figured I may as well stop by."

"I'm not complainin'." She let out a soft huff of laughter at the words, but she could feel heat beginning to creep up the back of her neck. "'S good timing, anyway. Intro to IR just turned in an essay on Kant."

The soft groan she let out only served to amuse him further as she surveyed the wreckage of his office. "That's what all this paper is?" He nodded in confirmation, and she scrunched up her nose. "I'm not sure if I feel worse for the freshmen who had to write them or for you having to read them."

"Well, I should hope it's the freshmen," he said matter-of-factly, sitting back in his chair. The smile he wore was concerningly self-righteous. "'Cause, now, readin' these is your job, too."

Her eyebrows shot up; the dread in her gaze was the furthest thing from contrived. "... Is it too late to rescind my application as a TA?"

He shook his head. "Mm-mm. You're welcome to abandon ship."

She didn't like the satisfaction which grew in his gaze as she weighed her options; they both knew she wasn't considering turning down the position in earnest — that simple fact left Thomas unnecessarily smug. Another beat passed, and she sighed. "You're lucky this is going to look good on my grad school applications."

He laughed. "Sure am. I could use all the help I can get, right now."

"I can see that," she replied, voice laden with amusement at the state of his office.

However, Thomas said nothing more, and she shifted on her feet, uncomfortable with the drawn-out silence. He raised an expectant eyebrow, and it took her a moment to grasp his intention. "Wait... d'you mean, like, right now?"

"Unless you're busy." He shrugged. His gaze was hopeful as she eyed warily the small stack of papers she'd spent the past few minutes trying not to crush under her boot. She sighed.

He grinned when she bent over to pick up the papers that'd floated to her side of the desk. "As depressing as it feels to say, I've got nowhere else to be on this fine Friday night."

"That's the spirit." He winked, and though she rolled her eyes, her amused smile was deep-set. "So, you're gradin' for accuracy and watchin' out for grammar, of course, but the points are really earned for analysis. The paper's on changes in the international system. They’ve gotta connect ‘em back to Kant's maxims."

She let out a low whistle as she took a seat across from him, plucking a red pen from his cup and dropping her bag onto the floor. "That certainly sounds pretentious."

He laughed lightly. "You really tellin' me you didn't have to do anything like this as a freshman?"

"Oh, I wish I could say that, but unfortunately, my professor was apparently every bit the pseudointellectual you are.” She nodded sadly, and Thomas rolled his eyes.

"Hilarious, sweetheart, really." In the dry sarcasm of his tone, the casual pet name didn't seem to register with him, but Y/N couldn't help but notice, and her breath caught. "Here, lemme get you a copy of the rubric. 'S nothin' too complicated; go easy on 'em. Got some STEM majors in the class who're just takin' it for the graduation requirement, so I'm not expectin' much."

She pursed her lips. "Are the essays that bad?"

He deadpanned as he turned back to her, sliding the rubric across the desk. "At least as bad as I'm makin' 'em sound."

Y/N let out a long, dramatic huff, rubbing her temples, and Thomas looked thoroughly entertained at her reaction.

"I'm in for a long few months, aren't I?"

[whitehotharlots]

Previewing the 2024 Democrat Primary

Within a couple weeks of his being sworn in, just about every person on earth will wish Joe Biden was no longer president. Sure, the few surviving John B. Anderson voters will be thrilled to see 4 years of crushing austerity and half-assed attempts at Keynesian stimulus. But most people will begin dreaming about a brighter future.

Good news! The 2024 Democratic primary field is going to contain dozens of options. Bad news! They are all going to be disgusting piles of shit. 

The “top tier”

While it’s too early to do any handicapping, these are the candidates the media will treat as having the most realistic chances of securing the nomination. 

Kamala Harris

Kamala did not win a single primary delegate in 2020. This is because she dropped out before the first primary, and that was because no one likes her. She has no base beyond a few thousand of twitter’s most violent psychos. Her disingenuousness approaches John Edwards levels: any halfway incredulous person can see immediately beyond her bullshit. She has no principles whatsoever, and while that may be par for the course for Democrats, she lacks even the basic politician’s ability to intuit anything that might, hypothetically, constitute a principle. 

Even better: she is an awful public speaker. She sounds like how a talking dog would speak if he were just caught stealing people food off the kitchen table. She communicates in weird grunts and faux sassy squeaks, which is how she imagines real black women sound like, but something about her is unable to sell the bit. She begins her sentences in halfhearted AAVE, stops and panics halfway through as she realizes that maybe this sounds fake and offensive, and then reminds herself oh wait, no, this is okay since I’m black. This doesn���t happen once or twice per speech. This is how every single sentence sounds. 

Kamala is like Nancy Pelosi in that no sketch show will ever impersonate her correctly, because anything that came close to authenticity would be considered far too cruel. This might benefit her in the primaries, as she exists in the minds of Democrats as someone and something she absolutely is not in reality. Nominating her would be like allowing your child’s imaginary friend to attempt to drive you to the store. 

Andrew Cuomo

Easily one of the 50 worst people alive, Cuomo has a solid chance because Democrats, same as Republicans, are unable to differentiate between electability and self-serving ruthlessness. Cuomo used the deadliest public health crisis in American history as a pretext for cutting Medicaid and firing 5,000 MTA workers, and his approval rating increased. New York Dems are little piggies who love eating shit. If we assume that the political media will continue their habit of refusing to discuss the legislative history of right wing Democrats, Cuomo might well cruise to the nomination and then lose to literally any human being the GOP nominates by an historic margin. 

Joe Biden

The party loves him because he is a right wing racist. “Progressives” tolerate him because black primary voters over 40 supported him, and their opinion is supposedly a magic window into god’s truth. Everyone else can tell he is manifestly senile. I don’t put it above the DNC to pick a candidate who is in horrible health, dying, or even dead--whatever the financial sector wants, they’ll get. But I would be shocked if his approval rating is above 39% by mid-2023, and by that point deep fake technology will be advanced enough they’ll put out a very lifelike video in which the Max Headroom version of Joe explains he’s proud of his accomplishments--that budget’s almost balanced already--but, man, I gotta abd--I gotta abdica--, uhh, I gotta, I, uhh, I gotta move down, man. 

Wild Cards

These candidates would have all have a chance if they ran, but they could all much more easily retire to Little Saint James off of kickbacks they’ve gotten from Citibank and I.G. Farben. 

Rahm Emanuel

Rahm is going to receive some hugely influential post in the Biden administration. Let’s say he becomes Secretary of Education. His signature achievement will be replacing all elementary school teachers with Amazon’s Alexa, which saved the taxpayers so much money we were able to quadruple the number of armed police officers we put into high schools. This will give him several thousand positive profiles on network news programs and the near-universal support of the Silicon Valley vampires who will own 99% of the country by the time Biden’s term ends. They will use their fancy mind control devices to convince geriatic primary voters that Rahm’s the one who will bring Decency back to the white house. His candidacy will be the paragon of wokeness, as expressing concern toward the fact that he covered up the police murder of a black guy will get you called a racist. 

Rahm has a bonus in that Jewish men are now Schrodeniger’s PoC. When they are decent human beings, they are basic, cis white men who are stealing attention from disabled trans candidates of color. When they love austerity and apartheid, they become the most vulnerable people of color on earth and criticizing them in any way is genocide. No one will be able to mention a single thing Rahm has ever done or said without opening themselves to accusations of antisemitism, and that gives him a strong edge against the rest of the field. The good news is that an Emmanuel candidacy would result in over 50% of black voters choosing the GOP candidate--which, I guess that’s not really good but it would certainly be funny. 

Gavin Newsom

Newsom is every bit as feckless as Cuomo, but he doesn’t put off the same “bad guy in an early Steven Segal movie” vibes. He will mention climate change 50 times per speech and no one will bother to mention how he keeps signing fracking contracts even though his state is now on fire 11 months of the year. If anything, this will be spun into an argument about how he’s actually the candidate best suited to handle all the water refugees gathering on the southern border. Look for his plan to curb emissions by 10% by the year 2150 to get high marks from Sierra Club nerds. He’s also a celebate librarian’s idea of what constitutes a handsome man, so he’ll have some support from the type of women who claim to hate all men. 

Larry Summers

I mean, why not? Larry, like most members of the Obama administration, has politics that are eerily similar to those of Jordan Peterson. In normal circumstances, this makes a person a dangerous fascist who should not be platformed. But if that person has a D next to their name this makes them a realistic pragmatist who has what it takes to bring suburban bankers into our tent. If current trends in Woke Phrenology continue apace, Larry’s belief that women are inherently bad at STEM will be liberal orthodoxy by 2023, and his dedication to the Laffer Curve could see him rake in massive donations. Seriously, I’m not kidding: cultural liberalism is now fully dedicated to identity essentialism and balanced budgets. Larry is their ideal candidate. If he were black and/or a woman, I’d put him in the very top tier. 

Jay Inslee

Unlike Newsom, Inslee’s attempt to crown himself the King of Global Warming won’t be immediately derailed, since his state is only on fire because of protestors. This, however, poses a different problem. He’s going to be a good test case for the Democrat’s uneasy peace with the ever increasing share of the electorate who become catatonic upon hearing a pronoun. On the one hand, you need to take their votes for granted. On the other hand, they’re not like black people or regular gays: most voters actively, consciously despise wokies, and associating yourself with them will ruin a campaign even in deep blue areas. There’s still gonna be riots in a year. Biden’s gonna announce the sale of all our nation’s potable water to the good folks at Nestle and some trans freak named Sasha-Malia DeBalzac is going to use that as an opportunity to sell their new pamphlet about how it’s fascist to not burn down small businesses. No matter what Inslee does in response, it’ll end his career. 

AOC

I’m not one of those “AOC is a secret conservative” weirdos, but I am aware enough of basic reality to know she has zero chance of coming close to the nomination. The right and the center both regard her as a literal demon. The party is already blaming her for the fact that a handful of faceless Reagan acolytes failed to flip their suburban districts even though they ran on sensible pragmatic proposals like euthanizing the homeless. The recriminations will only get more unhinged when the Dems eat shit in the 2022 midterms. She will be a Russian, she will be white male, she will be a communist, she will be a homophobe: any insult or conspiracy theory you can name, MSNBC will spend hours discussing. Her house seat challenger will receive a record amount of support from the DNC in 2024 and it’ll be all she can do to remain in congress.

Larry Hogan

Don’t be dissuaded by the fact that he’s a Republican. Larry is the DNC’s ideal candidate: a physically repulsive conservative who owes his entire career to appealing to the most spiteful desires of suburban white people. He’s an open racist in a material sense--if you’re old-school enough to think racism is a matter of beliefs and actions, rather than the presence of cultural signifiers--but his is the beloved “never Trump” style of racism that Dems covet. He’s also a Proven Leader who thinks the role of government should be to finance the construction of investment property and give police the resources they need to run successful drug trafficking operations. Few people embody the Democrat worldview more than Larry. 

The Losers Bracket

These people will have at least a small chance due solely to the fact that the Democrats love losing. They have lost in the past, and in the Democrat Mind that makes them especially qualified.

Joe Kennedy

The man looks like a mushroom-human hybrid from a JRPG. Trump proved that physical hideousness need not doom a presidential bid, but a candidate still needs some kind of charm or oratorical abilities or, god forbid, a decent platform. Joe aggressively lacks all of these things. A vanity campaign would be a good way to raise money and perhaps secure an MSNBC gig, so Joe might still run. 

Mayor Pete 

I am 100% convinced that Pete’s 2020 run was a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. I am also 100% aware that Democrats are dumb enough to enthusiastically support a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. If we have some sort of military or terror disaster between now and 2023 the Dems are sure to want a TROOP, and wait wait wait you’re telling me this one is a gay troop? Holy hell there’s no way that could lose!

Stacy Abrams

Never underestimate the power of white guilt. She lost the gubernatorial race to Gomer Pyle’s grandson, and her spiritual guidance of the Dems saw the party lose black voters in Georgia in 2020. Nonetheless, she is regarded as a magic font of fierceness within the DNC. She might stand a chance if she can establish herself as the most conservative non-white candidate in the field, but there’s going to be stiff competition for that honor.

Elizabeth Warren

Liz is probably angry that the party so shamelessly sold her out even after she was a good little girl and sabatoged Bernie’s campaign for them--yet another example of high ranking US government officials reneging on their promises to the Native American community. Smdh. The fact that this woman hasn’t been bankrupted a dozen times over by various Wallet Inspectors genuinely astounds me. So Liz is probably going to run again, and her campaign will be even sadder the second time around. 

It might surprise you to hear this if you don’t work at a college or NGO, but Liz diehards actually do exist. She’ll get even less support this time because there will be no viable leftist in the field for her to spoil, but she’ll still hang in long enough to make sure the very worst possible candidate beats out the second worst possible candidate. Maybe she’ll fabricate a rape accusation against Sherrod Brown. Maybe she’ll spend her entire allotted debate time doing a land acknowledgment. With Liz, anything is possible--so long as it ends in failure. 

Amy Klobuchar 

Amy was the most bloodthirsty of the 2020 also rans. She will double down on the unpopular failures of the Biden administration, explaining that if you weren’t such a selfish idiot you’d love the higher social security retirement age and oh my god are so such a moron you think you shouldn’t go bankrupt to get a COVID vaccine? There’s a non-unsubstantial segment of the Democratic base that’s self-hating enough to find this appealing, but it won’t be enough to make her viable. 

Martha Coakley

She lost Ted Kennedy’s senate seat to a retarded man who was pretending to be even more retarded than he actually was. Then she lost a gubernatorial race to a guy who openly promised Massachusetts voters that he would punish them for electing him. Her record of failure is unparalleled, making her perhaps the ideal Democrat standard bearer for the twenty twenties. 

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.10

...and Drink It with Gusto

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)   x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 3400

Summary: Steve’s a bit difficult (poor baby), not that anyone blames him. Sam Wilson makes a confession – sort of.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and death, alcohol, unhealthy coping mechanism, sad sad Steeb

A/N: dropping the chapter early, because I won’t have time to post for a bit

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

The mission hadn’t been a shitshow, surprisingly enough, but the reports to Fury had been. Natasha had spent the rest of the day, whole night and a better portion of the next day at the SHIELD HQ, having to deal with everything, because Stark had quite literally fled. To be fair, he had at least taken care of Steve’s still unconscious and very much muscular (read ‘really fucking heavy’) form.

Tired and annoyed, Natasha finally landed with small jet at the Tower, making her way to her room, wishing nothing more but to shower and get some fucking sleep.

Of course, walking through the common room, she should have known she wouldn’t be that lucky.

She heard his icy yet somewhat cheery voice before she even saw him and it made her stop in her tracks, dreading facing him. She was too tired for his reproaches now.

“AH! There she is!”

Natasha took a deep breath, closing her eyes and mentally counting to three.

“Here’s ‘ur soulmate ex-pert!” Steve howled again, making her heart clench.

Black Widow was not a coward, but neither her nor Natasha liked dealing with feelings too directly – the jet was enough to get her fill for several years prior. She scanned the room before she would settle on him – and sure enough, she and Steve weren’t alone.

Bruce was standing indecisively by the door, torn and helpless expression on his face, his eyes one big question mark, asking Natasha how the hell he was supposed to deal with that.

Good question, Bruce, good question.

The smell of booze and Steve’s demeanour were unmistakable, but she silently asked anyway.

“Is he…?”

“Yeah. He… uhm… he found Thor’s stash,” the scientist answered her in equally hushed voice, inconspicuously pointing towards the counter where three flasks lay, emptied. Jesus.

Steve apparently heard and saw them anyway, because his voice bellowed again in reaction to their conversation. His words were slurred.

“Goooood friend Thor. Thou’ he t’ied to take my g’l. Nooot a g’d friend. Baaaad, bad friend.”

“Oh bozhe moy…” Natasha whispered under her breath and Steve turned to her, looking almost excited to see her.

Which didn’t mean he didn’t look like absolute shit. He had a t-shirt stained with the alcohol, his eyes red-rimmed, bruise-like dark circles under them as if he hadn’t slept for a year.

She hadn’t thought he could get worse than in the quinjet. Clearly, she was wrong.

“’tasha! Greeeeat ‘dvice you gave me,” he exclaimed, trying to rise from his spot on the couch where he had been half-lying like a dead fish casted ashore.

Natasha resisted the urge to massage her temples as the headache started to build. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach at the audible edge to his voice, the accusation glaring at her from his eyes.

“Steve…”

He finally stumbled to his feet and she noticed another flask secured in his right hand. He held it out as if he was pointing at her.

“Tried wat’ you s-said. Hurts,” he hiccupped, the sound blending with a sob. He cleaned his nose with the back of his hand hastily. “S-saw her grave. Fuck it hurts…  ‘dis thing’s good ‘ough.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, her mind racing. She didn’t need to call anyone for advice now. Her friend was shitfaced. The only thing she could do was to get him to bed and try not to antagonize him or trigger something worse than… whatever this was. She wasn’t sure if moving on from being snowed under work – voluntarily – was more or less healthy than drinking himself into oblivion. But she counted any change that wasn’t a step towards a suicide (possibly assisted by the last of Hydra goons) like a progress.

“Is he drunk?” Tony’s incredulous voice ringed from the doorway and Natasha didn’t even bother spinning on her heels to him, hearing him enter and close the distance between them as he stopped at her side. “Cap?”

Blood froze in Natasha’s veins and she was swift to call out, but it was too late. “No- don’t call-!”

So much for not triggering him and making it worse. She could see how he suddenly stood straighter as if he swallowed a wooden ruler, and an indefinable expression appeared on his face.

She gulped in anticipation of a storm.

“Cap!” he called out, mimicking Tony and the billionaire realized his mistake, judging by the silent dammit that left his lips. Steve raised the flask in a mock toast, turning around and nearly tipping over his feet. “Captain ‘merica! What a heeero! Cheers to him!” He took a long sip before continuing, his gestures animated. “Swin’ in, safe th’m all! Kill his g’l, why ‘ven care… hero, murd’r, potato, tomatho…” his voice slurred into a murmur, until he spotted a newcomer and came to life again. “Ah! Hey, Clint!”

Clint was quick to understand the situation and it took one glance at Natasha for them to agree what needed to be done. He approached Steve cautiously with his features emotionless.

“We should get you to bed-“

“Nope! No!” Steve howled instantly, taking several steps backwards to get out of Clint’s reach. His expression was dark, tears welling in his eyes. “Smell like h’r. Not ‘nymore. Hurts!” he sobbed, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, his figure swaying dangerously as he closed his eyes and lost the visual control of his balance. “Hurts!”

“Come on, Steve…” Clint coaxed him gently, attempting to close the distance between them again. His gaze flickered to Bruce and Tony and they took few steps towards Steve as well.

“Nope! Gotta-ta sssay sm’thin’!” Christ, Natasha had never seen him like this and she wanted to bleach both her eyes and ears. He pointed the flask at Clint resolutely. “You knew. You warn h’r. Fuck-fuck up. Shouldva told- I ain’t gettin’ killed. I kill h’r.”

“Steve…” Natasha approached him as well, grimacing when she saw the flash of emotion on Clint’s face.

Steve spun to her immediately, this time accusing her. “And you! Gooood job. Pushin’ us togthe’. You kill h’r too.”

“Hey! Watch it!” Tony snapped at him, running out of patience, but Natasha knew Steve didn’t quite mean it. Pushing them together wasn’t her fault – the fact she had tranquilized him was her sin and she was aware he had the right to be mad at her.

“Your friggin’ ‘stem! You too- n’t fly fast ’nough!“

“Steve, you’re wasted. You’re going to bed before you say more things you regret,” Bruce said calmly after Steve managed to finish his roll and blame another person.

Bruce speaking up gave the captain a pause and he looked like his brain froze. His brows knitted together and he nodded, another sob erupting from his throat, his inhale shaking his whole being as he crossed the distance to Bruce, murmuring.

“Regert. Her. My folt, no yours. Kill h’r. Miss her. Shouldva s-s-saved her. Pick h’r… love h’r. Hurts. Hurts s’much…”

Steve’s large frame enveloped Bruce, resting his whole impressive weight on him. The scientist was nearly tripped over – except a hint of green flushed his neck, Hulk coming to rescue before the other men and Natasha rushed to help. Steve went completely limp, the flask falling to the ground, the little liquid remaining in it spilling and staining the carpet. No one cared as they tried to support the supersoldier’s goo-like body, exchanging desperate glances.

“Well, that was… enlightening,” Tony summarized, his poor attempt at joke that not even he apparently believed in barely gaining any reaction.

Clint sighed. “Please, this is hardly any news. We knew he blamed himself.” He readjusted Steve’s arm he had slung around his shoulders and Tony’s right side of suit came to the rescue, taking most of the weight off from the billionaire. “I hate this, but I think he needs this.”

Natasha wasn’t so sure about that, but yeah, Steve definitely needed to start accepting the reality. It was probably a natural reaction to want to dull the pain with something else when work was off limits. She pressed her lips together as their whole grouped slowly made their way to Steve’s room.

“Let’s just get him to bed.”  

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Not many people could probably brag they had Black Widow’s number. Well, probably no one could, because if they told a living soul, they’d meet their end. So Sam Wilson didn’t brag. And he sure as hell didn’t call her first.

That said, he did not hesitate when she called him with location and time to meet, no greeting, no goodbye. Rude, but he’d take it. He had more than one reason, not that he would advertise it.

So there he was, sipping coffee from a take-away cup as he sat in Central Park with Black Widow, both of them having the best super-spy disguise; sunglasses and baseball caps.

The silence between them was getting awkward and Sam couldn’t take the tension anymore.

“Well, this is much more… civil than our last meeting,” he noted casually, hating to admit he was… nervous.

“I’m not gonna say sorry,” Ms.Romanoff hummed back, sipping her latté.

“Guess I wouldn’t expect that…”

He didn’t expect her to face him either but she did, a reminiscence of a sad smile gracing her lips. The warmth around his heart was familiar and not entirely unwelcomed. He found himself longing after seeing her whole face.

“I’m saying thank you, though.”

Huh.

“Didn’t expect that either,” he admitted and one corner of her lips rose higher in a smirk. Sam had a hunch she loved surprising people – or rather shocking them.  “How did it go?”

She huffed out a sound that could only mean frustration and Sam grimaced. Confrontation usually didn’t go very good, but this sounded awful.

“That well, huh?”

“No, no…” she shook her head, red curls swaying around her head elegantly. “He’s… an asshole. He fell asleep on a mission. In a cockpit. When he was piloting. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but God bless Stark’s inventions and auto-piloting,” she grunted and removed the cap of her cup before taking a long sip of her coffee.

She seemed to be gathering thoughts. Sam might not be able to see her eyes, but he did learn to read people. She didn’t like talking about feelings, but she was making an exception. Whether it was because of him, because of his job or because she wished to help her friend so badly, that remained a mystery. Either was pleasing though, the action itself intriguing Sam.

He had given her a lot of thought after their first unconventional meeting. He could not get her out of his head and for a good reason, of course.

He came to a conclusion that… despite her manners, she probably wasn’t a bad person. There were rumours about her past, but everyone had one. She was with the Avengers now, getting clean and the present and willingness to fix mistakes often mattered more than what had been done – especially when it came to a past like her own. Sam had made living by helping people dealing with their past actions and failures; judging her would be a hypocrisy and as far as he knew, he was a killer too. And if it came to it, he would punch, sliced or shot his way out again.

“It’s just… he’s… he’s really at the bottom,” she Natasha spoke softly, emotions lacing her voice. Regret. Compassion. Helplessness. Sam knew all those too well. “Seeing him going from one mission to another just to pass out in exhaustion was bad enough, because I knew it was wrong, but… seeing him drink himself into oblivion? One time only, but it was a nightmare. And seeing Steve doing nothing? Struggling to find a purpose, himself… that’s just…”

“It sucks. But he has a good friend in you. He needs time.”

“I know that, it’s… I wish there was someone hurting him so I could just punch them in their face and call it a day. But that one guy blew himself to hell and the others just… don’t really matter, getting them doesn’t do much help to Steve.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile softly as she said Captain’s name. It held a meaning – he was clearly dear to her and it went way beyond professional relationship. Not that the fact alone that she had shown up at Sam’s apartment the way she had wasn’t enough of an evidence. Not to mention her surprising openness.

“It’s a long way to recovery, Natasha.”

Her first name just slipped past his lips unwittingly, but he didn’t feel like apologizing. The informal space they found themselves in, the honest open conversation… first names suited it better. He was aware he sounded like he was speaking from experience on top of that, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know. She had done a thorough research on him.

As if she agreed with him feeling his surroundings and the atmosphere, she put away her glasses, her green eyes burning with honesty when she met his – he automatically lost the barrier too, because it felt unjust for her to be left… vulnerable like that.

“I’m truly sorry about poking at your past, Sam,”

Sam felt the last remains of hostility towards her resolve. That apology meant more than he had realized it would.

“Thanks. I get it, you know. Being worried for someone so much… he’s gonna be okay, eventually. Scarred, but okay.”

“He could be better than that…” she sighed, leaning onto the backrest of the bench tiredly.

“What was that?”

“When I confronted him on the plane… he told me he had another words,” she revealed hesitantly as if she wasn’t sure if it was her secret to tell.

Sam’s heart positively stopped. Was she telling the truth or was this a game? Did she know about his own too? He swallowed the panic when he saw her resigned gaze.

She wasn’t playing no game.

“Two soulmates. That’s rare,” he remarked, a lump growing in his throat. His palms started sweating and he hated it. Fortunately, Natasha didn’t seem to notice – or she politely ignored it, her voice dry and laced with a bit of irritation.

“He never wants to meet her.”

“That’s not rare.”

Sam would know. He had struggled with the same feeling, after all. He wanted to forget the world existed. He wanted to live peacefully and alone. It was probably no coincidence fate sent him Black freaking Widow as the one – if she was willing, Sam would not be alone. And definitely wouldn’t get ‘peace’.

If he was being truly honest with himself, he wouldn’t be able to say he minded.

“He thinks… he thinks he doesn’t deserve her or something.”

Sam sighed, mentally chuckling at the irony of fate once more. The Universe did have a messed up sense of humour, didn’t it?

“Because he thinks he blew his chance. Because he thinks that he will mess it up again and fail her. And it feels like being unfaithful,” he offered, venting his own feelings for the first time.

He had never told that to anyone, ashamed of the set of words sitting on his other collarbone, appearing shortly after Riley’s death. Why did he tell her of all people? He wanted to question his own actions, he barely knew the woman, but… there was a significant but, wasn’t there?

Her emerald eyes were searching on his face, recognition lighting them up. She fidgeted, something he hadn’t seen her do before and he was sure not many people had either. It was a privilege and while his heart started racing, seeing her nervous eased his own nerves the tinniest bit.

“…yeah. I guess. You… uhm, you dealt with someone like that too?” she asked, looking away, seemingly intrigued by something in the distance.

Sam didn’t buy it and swallowed loudly.

“Just one case in my whole carrier.”

“What did you tell them?” she queried gently, her shoulders tense.

Sam shrugged. He told himself a lot of things, but he wasn’t certain they were all presentable.

“Never figured it out. First, the meeting with his other soulmate was a bit unconventional. He kinda hated her,” he admitted, glancing at her with the corner of his eye. She gave almost an inconspicuous nod, her gaze casted down. She took it as a rejection, he realized. “Then he started thinking and realized she wasn’t too bad. He’s still struggling to make up his mind – whether he should try. Whether she would want to. She would be a catch though, no doubt,” he lighted it up, biting the inside of his cheek right after.

Was he really trying to flirt now?  

One corner of her lips rose in a smirk. “Somehow I doubt that. Sounds like a bitch.”

Sam wanted to chuckle at the joke, but then her eyes lifted to him and his heart just… stopped, the amused sound stuck in his throat. He had to clear it to be able to speak up, but it did nothing under the intensity of her gaze.

“Not to me. Not anymore.”

Natasha licked her lips – and Sam would lie if he claimed he did not mirror the motion instinctively – and finished her drink.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, huh? That must have been a pleasant surprise when it appeared,” she stated, a hint of amusement along with relief that the secret, the whatever that had been hanging between them, was finally addressed.

Sam snorted, not necessarily because he found his next statement funny.  

“Yeah and I bet growing up in Russia and have an English soulmark must have been walk in a park.”

Good, there was so much sarcasm in his voice he might even feel ashamed. But the redhead – his second soulmate, holy shit, it really happened – didn’t seem to be offended.

“Wow, this almost beats the way Steve met his and that was some story….”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Silence fell on them then, both of them unsure how to continue and where to go from here. They found each other – their other half, supposedly, but no one could tell the outcome.

She was an Avenger. Sam was a therapist, a veteran at ridiculously young age, because he had lost his partner. They had a perfect example of how wrong it could go, served on silver plate – it was how they had met for God’s sake. But once again – Sam would lie when saying he didn’t miss some of the adrenalin. He did. A lot, actually.

The reason he had left the field was his soulmate. Was there any better reason to get back in when the need would rise, than another soulmate?

“Do you want to explore this?” Sam broke the uncomfortable silence, lacking the courage to look at her expression. The tension in her shoulders he could almost feel told him enough. He didn’t want to see her rejection. Did he want to see her agreement though?

“Do you?” she hummed back, staring ahead just like him.

“That’s the million dollar question.”

Riley had been… his everything. But could he ignore something like this? Could he ignore the opportunity, a woman who was no doubt fabulous and he was already finding interesting and that apparently was matching his sense of humour? Did he believe in fate? Did he have the right to try again?

Deep down, Sam knew he had already made his mind about it. Now it only depended on her.

“But I keep telling everyone to move on,” he mused out loud, catching her gaze. “Try to live. Some do. Neither of them had the… advantage of having another soulmate if we can call it that.”

Small smile appeared on Natasha’s lips, new twinkle lighting up her eyes and Sam knew he had made the right decision, no matter the outcome.

He didn’t complain when she rose to her feet to clearly leave though – they had enough to deal with today, they needed more time to think of how to approach this.

“Okay. Okay then… You have my number. Call me,” she offered simply, saying goodbye only with a nod and spun on her heels.

“Oh, I will!”

She casted a flirty grin over her shoulder and Sam found himself smiling.

“Hey, you bowl?” he blurted out the first idea that came to his mind and this time she stopped in her tracks, her smile turning almost wolfish. It might have done a thing to his crotch.

“I do, but you can’t run crying when I beat you!” she smirked and gave him a wink, hips swaying as she left him behind.

His laughter sounded like a soundtrack to her catwalk.

Cheeky lady. Sam kinda liked her.  

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 11

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Thank you for reading! 

We’ll be leaving Stevie next time, coming back to our wayward sons and daughter (...that’s a spn reference, if any non-fan is confused). We’re getting closer, y’all!

[curiosi-tea-writes]

Promise (One Survivor pt.3)

Pairing: Din Djarin / Cobb Vanth (+ the tiniest hint of Boba / Migs)

Setting: Survivor AU / Modern AU

(Part 1 and Part 2 of this series)

Summary: After Din gets voted out, neither him nor Cobb are in great places. Cobb is furious and Din is feeling incredibly guilty for what happened. Din gets some support from a friend while Cobb decides he needs to win the next immunity challenge to made Din’s sacrifice mean something. That could come at a price, though. Promises are made and for the first time in 38 days, there is no intention of breaking them.

Warning: Quite a bit of angst! Plus, hurt/sick!Cobb

---------------------

“What the hell was that?” Cobb yelled. He cursed as he dropped his torch when he attempted to lean it against the tree. 

“Cowboy, just calm down,” Boba spoke calmly, putting a hand gently on Cobb’s shoulder.

“We had a plan!” Cobb stepped away from Boba. He could vaguely hear Boba telling him again to calm down. His face felt like it was on fire and he was thankful for the limited light of a moon above them because otherwise the tears in his eyes would have been painfully obvious. “We were going to tie it! Why didn’t you tie it?”

“He was a pity vote,” Fennec stated simply, repeating the words Din had said earlier that afternoon. “A teacher who’s a single dad is a better option than any of us and you know it.”

“That’s not true!” Cobb couldn’t tell anymore if his main emotion was anger or sadness. He was incredibly angry. Angry at Fennec for going against what they had decided as a group. But he was also terribly sad. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell Din how he felt. Hadn’t gotten the chance to ask him what was going to happen when they went back to the States. He felt so lost. He took a deep, shaky breath, straightening his shoulders. He willed the tears not to fall. Not now. “If Din won, it would have been because he deserved it. Just like any of us.”

Boba struck the flint one final time and the fire roared to life a few feet from Cobb. He realized then how blurry his vision was and judging by the look Fennec was giving him, she could see why. He turned away, staring into the fire. 

“He didn’t have to go,” he whispered. “I could have gone.”

“Din didn’t want you to go,” Fennec returned sadly. 

Cobb snapped his gaze back to Fennec, not noticing the tears had fallen until he realized his cheeks were wet. “I didn’t want him to go.” He scoffed lightly when he realized Fennec didn’t have a response to his statement. He turned on his heel and tossed his bag where he and Din normally slept in the shelter. 

He was suddenly thankful for the fire allowing the cream colored parchment to catch his eye. He recognized it from a day when it came in tree mail so they could practice writing different symbols related to the country’s native language. It was folded small on the pillow Cobb used. 

He heard Boba behind him state that the next day was going to be hard and they should all rest. 

“I’m going to stay up for a bit,” Cobb managed to choke out. He cleared his throat, willing his voice to not break again. “I just need to be alone for a while.”

Boba patted his shoulder as he walked past him. “Take as long as you need, Cowboy.” He made his way to the other side of the shelter with Fennec following close behind. 

Once his two companions were settled down, Cobb took the parchment in his hand and made his way to the fire. He took a seat and carefully opened it. The tears that he thought were gone returned again and he held back his gasp.

Inside the folds of the letter was a ring. It was made of the stem of a weed that grew around their camp, made into a circle and wrapped around continuously until a design had been made. 

Cobb let out a choked laugh. He used his scarf to wipe his face free of tears. Tilting the paper towards the fire, he took a breath as he began to read. 

Hey Cowboy,

Consider this your loved one’s letter. If it worked, I got voted off tonight.

I’m sure you’re pretty upset about that, I’m sorry. I wanted to give you all the best chance to win. I wanted to give you the best chance to win. Don’t blame Fennec, please. It’s not her fault, it was my idea. You have a better chance of winning than I do and you have to believe that.

I know we didn’t get a chance to talk about it. I know so much is up in the air when it comes to our relationship. But you’re not getting rid of me so easily. This ring is a promise of that. I love you, Cobb. Please believe that. 

I hope I had the nerve to say that to you before I left.

Yours forever,

Din 

Cobb slid the ring onto his ring finger. He pictured when Din would lay beside him at night, tracing his fingers lightly with his own. He wondered if Din had imagined the same thing when he made the ring, judging how big to make it. He let one more tear fall before taking a deep breath. He folded the note up and placed it in his pocket.

He found his place in the shelter, looking out at the fire. He allowed his gaze to follow the embers up towards the sky, blending in with the abundance of stars above him. He knew if Din was there, he would have pointed excitedly to a constellation telling Cobb everything he knew about it. He always did that on clear nights. Cobb took the pillow Din typically used and held it close to his chest. He held it like a lifeline, pretending he had his arms around Din instead.

“I love you, Din,” Cobb whispered into the pillow.

--------------------------------

On another island, Din walked out onto the desk of his hotel room. His hair was wet from his first real shower in over a month and in only a bathrobe he could feel the chill of the night. He looked up at the stars and sighed. He spotted a constellation and almost spoke a fact about it out loud before realizing he was alone. He could only hope that Cobb was okay.

Din vaguely heard the door to the room beside his open and somebody stepped out onto their shared deck. 

“Gotta be honest,” Migs sighed as Din turned to face him. “Was not expecting you to be coming here tonight.”

Din attempted to chuckle but it came out more as a scoff. He shrugged and turned back towards the stars. Migs joined him, resting against the railing. 

“What’s that one?” Migs asked, pointing up at the sky. Din turned and looked at him, confusion written clear on his face. Migs let his hand drop back to the railing. “You like stars, don’t ya? Cobb told me you’re a space teacher.”

“It’s called astronomy,” Din scoffed, for real this time.

“Yeah, whatever.” Migs fell silent for a moment. Just a moment. “So Cobb voted you off? Why?” 

Din hung his head. ‘Never a peaceful moment with Migs, is there?’ He sighed and gave him a half-hearted glare. “He didn’t know he was voting me off. He thought we were going to tie it. You were at Tribal, you heard our plan.”

Migs considered it, letting the idea bounce around for a moment. “So, you lied to him?”

“To protect him,” Din defended, harshly. He was unsure if he was attempting to convince Migs or himself.

“You’re in love with him,” Migs stated, not even glancing at Din. 

Din attempted to protest but it got him nowhere. He finally sighed and returned his gaze to the stars. He wondered if Cobb was already asleep, if he had gotten his letter, if he even cared about him at all anymore. 

“If Cobb wins immunity, who’s he gonna take?” Migs pondered out loud.

Din shrugged and turned to Migs with a smirk. “Why? You hoping Boba gets voted off next?” Migs snapped his gaze to Din, shocked, which only made Din laugh. “You weren’t hiding anything, Migs, everyone knows.”

Migs cleared his throat. “Even Boba?” 

“Boba knows everything about everyone, that’s how he’s made it to the final three. Would you really be surprised?”  

“No, I suppose I wouldn’t be,” Migs sighed. 

“Hey,” Din bumped his shoulder, “If Boba gets voted out, I’ll move rooms so you can be closer to him.”

They both laughed. “I suppose I could move rooms if Cobb gets voted off too.”

Migs held out his hand to Din with a rare bright smile. Din took it and returned the smile. He realized this was the first time he was shaking hands with a person in over a month that could only have a positive outcome. So many deals were made and so many broken. But this time - either way, no matter what, both parties were going to be pleased with the outcome. For the first time in weeks, both men shared genuine smiles with someone that was not the men of their affection. 

“Who knows,” Migs chuckled, turning back to the sky, “Maybe Fennec will be voted out.”

“Our votes would cancel each other out,” Din pointed out. Migs hummed, nodding, his eyes not leaving the skyline. Din turned his face back to the dark horizon and was suddenly struck with a realization. They were facing the island. If not for a mountain and a handful of trees, they would have a clear, albeit dark and hazy, view of the camp. Din sighed and pointed up towards the sky. “That one, right?” Migs nodded. “That’s Orion, one of the most noticeable ones. Those three stars there make up his belt and that red one up there as his shoulder, that’s a red giant. That one-”

Migs listened happily as Din went on about the different constellations they could see. Sure neither of them was with the men they wished to be with at the moment, but Migs knew Din’s heart was close to breaking. So for this rare occasion, Migs kept his mouth shut, and just let Din talk.

---------------------------

Cobb woke with sore eyes and a headache but he knew today was big. He rolled out of the shelter, adjusting his scarf.

“Morning, Cowboy,” Boba called from the fire, far too chipper for how early it was. The sun had yet to rise. “Day thirty-eight, how you feeling?”

“Tired,” Cobb grumbled.

As Boba walked away, towards tree mail Cobb assumed, Fennec took a few steps closer to him and held out a bowl of rice. Cobb looked from the bowl to her eyes, reading the worry in them and took the bowl with a weak smile. She smiled back as best she could manage and joined in him sitting at the edge of the shelter. “Are we okay?” she whispered, staring into her rice.

Cobb sighed heavily and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

“Alright, you two,” Boba called with the same chipper tone.

“He is far too excited about today,” Fennec mumbled, smiling when Cobb chuckled lightly.

Boba stood in front of them and opened the note left in the tree mail. “’You’ve made it to the final three, outlasted, outwitted, outplayed. You’ve done what fourteen others couldn’t, much to their dismay. Honor your fallen companions and reflect on the damage. Then earn a place in the final two at the last immunity challenge.’”

Cobb, Fennec, and Boba all sighed heavily. Cobb was the first to get up and with a clap of his hands stated simply, “Let’s get going.”

----------------------------

The torch walk was as emotional as ever. The three companions said their piece at each torch and collected their wooden tags. Some of their comments were sad or frustrated. Cobb hoped that some of Fennec’s comments didn’t make it to the final cut. Others were funny and lighthearted. 

“Oh, Migs Mayfeld,” Boba sighed as he untied the tag. “A worthy competitor.”

Cobb laughed. “If Din and I aren’t the couple of the season, you two are.” Fennec joined in his laughter as Boba rolled his eyes and kept walking.

When they came to the end of the walk, Cobb stopped just short of the torch.

Fennec sighed and turned to Cobb. “Maybe you should take this one, Cowboy.”

Cobb nodded and untied the tag from the torch. “Din,” Cobb sighed, “You were- something else.” Fennec and Boba chuckled. “In a game where absolutely nothing can be anticipated, I definitely never could have anticipated having you in my life. You could have won.”

“Might not have won,” Boba chuckled, “but y’all had your first kiss documented. How cool is that?” He placed his hand on Cobb’s shoulder and Cobb could only manage a weak smile in return. 

Cobb’s vision blurred slightly, and he rested his hand on Din’s torch to steady himself. He felt Boba’s grip on his shoulder tighten.

Fennec placed her hand on his back. “Are you okay?” The concern was clear in her voice but to Cobb she sounded a million miles away.

His vision returned to normal and he shook his head clear of the haze. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “I’m fine,” he muttered, “We have an immunity challenge to get to.” And then he was pushing past his companions and heading down the path. All Boba and Fennec could do was offer each other a look of concern.

----------------------

“Welcome to your final immunity challenge,” Jeff stated with a bright smile. 

Cobb held back a groan. He was dead on his feet all day; he had no idea how he would win this challenge. 

“You will stand on two small platforms, one foot on each, and one hand will be placed on the idol. If you let go of the idol, your other hand touches it, or you lose your balance and step off of the platforms - you are out of the challenge.” The three players nodded. “Simple challenge but on day thirty-eight, in 115* heat, this is going to be tough. Let’s get started.”

Cobb stepped up on the platforms, one foot raised higher than the other. He raised his right hand to place it on the idol before freezing. He let his fingers curl into a fist before dropping his hand. He spun the grass ring on his finger with a smile before raising his left hand, finding a place to grip the idol where the ring was visible. 

“This challenge has started.”

The three players fell into silence. They only spoke when Jeff asked them a question, usually prompting them to remember how uncomfortable their position is. Cobb’s eyes stayed fixed on his hand- on his ring. Even when he answered Jeff, he didn’t look away, he couldn’t afford to lose his concentration.

“You’ve been standing up there for two hours now,” Jeff reminded them. Fennec groaned which made Cobb chuckle. “Cowboy.” Cobb hummed his acknowledgement. “Getting tired?”

“I’m exhausted, Jeff,” Cobb admitted with a sigh. 

“What’s keeping you up there? What’re you thinking about?”

Cobb let out a soft laugh. “Honestly? Thinking about Din.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jeff sitting forward, prompting him to explain. “Din could have won the game. Instead, he gave me a better chance to win. If I don’t come out of this challenge with immunity, I’m gonna feel like that sacrifice was for nothing.”

“Do you feel like you’re in trouble tonight?” 

Cobb finally looked away from his ring to spare a glance between Fennec and Boba to gage their expressions because truth be told, he didn’t know for sure if he was in trouble. He instantly regretted it. His vision went blurry, worse than it had when they were by Din’s torch. He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, gripping the idol tighter. 

Fennec looked around the idol at him. “Cobb, you okay?”

He nodded, knowing it was a lie. 

“Cowboy?” The concern in Jeff’s voice was clear, a tone he only used on very rare occasions. 

“Just a little dizzy is all,” Cobb muttered. He felt sick as he spoke. He fought to breathe deeply and regain his composure. 

Boba spoke up, “He hasn’t had anything to drink today.”

He lifted his head and chanced opening his eyes to look at Jeff. “I’m fi-” 

But that was all he could get out. He heard Jeff say his name, but it sounded distant like Fennec’s had earlier. His vision blurred again and he couldn’t bring his mind to register his hand slipping off the idol and his body hitting the ground while Jeff called for Medical.

----------------------

“Let’s bring in the jury,” Jeff sighed as the Survivors took their seats. He counted every member in as they entered, per usual. Then finally, “Din, voted out at the last tribal council.”

Din entered smiling, he had worn a grey button down he had brought, a drastic difference from the hoodie had worn during the game. He might have been a tad upset with himself for having lied to Cobb, but he was desperate to impress him this evening. He had styled and restyled his hair five times before they left Ponderosa. This was the first time in over a month that Cobb would get to see him all proper and not completely in game-mode. He was excited.

That excitement was quickly snuffed as Din took his seat and finally looked at the remaining Survivors. Fennec, Boba- but no Cobb.

“Alright,” Jeff stated, taking his own seat. “This tribal council is really more of a recap.” He glanced at the jury before turning back to Fennec and Boba. “Would one of you two like to explain to the jury what happened today?”

“I will,” Fennec stated. She turned to address the jury, but her eyes fell solely on Din. “Before the immunity challenge, Cobb started to feel really not well. He hadn’t gotten very much sleep last night and we knew he was running on empty for most of the day, he was stressed. The challenge was purely endurance and he just collapsed.”

“So basically,” Jeff said, turning the jury’s attention back to him. Din felt like every word was said from under water. “Cobb is fine. However, he had a severe case of dehydration, was unresponsive for too long than anybody felt comfortable, and medical pulled him from the game.”

Din’s eyes began to water. He vaguely heard Migs mutter an, “Oh my God,” beside him but he could hardly process it.

“That being said,” Jeff continued, “Cobb is currently recovering at Ponderosa and will become our final member of the jury tomorrow. Boba and Fennec have made it to the final two.”

Din offered Fennec a weak smile that was gone as quickly as it had appeared. At least now he wouldn’t have to decide who to vote for between Fennec and Cobb. He couldn’t focus on Jeff’s words as he told the two finalists that their fate now rested in the hands of the jury. It didn’t matter, he had heard the words dozens of times, he knew them by heart. All he could do was will the tears in his eyes not to fall. Tears that formed along with the crushing weight of guilt in his chest. He couldn’t help feeling that this was his fault.

Once Boba and Fennec had left to make their trek back to camp, the jury began to talk. Everyone wanted to discuss who of the two finalists they felt deserving of a million dollars. Din just let the words swirl around him, everything sounded a mess. He was slow getting out of his seat, following behind the other jury members on their way to the boat.

“Din,” Jeff called from a few feet back. Din was honestly surprised he heard it but managed to pull himself back the distance, away from the other players. Jeff held out a piece of paper to Din. “Cobb’s room number back at Ponderosa. I’m sure he’d like some company.”

Din took the paper with a weak smile. “Thank you, Jeff.” He slid the paper into his pocket and met his fellow jury members at the boat to take them back to Ponderosa.

The ride felt so much longer than it did on the way to Tribal. Din hated every second of it.

He walked in a daze through the hotel until he found himself in front of a door with the number Jeff had written on the paper. He gave a weak knock, all of his energy gone. He heard a tired, “Come in,” and he opened the door, closing it behind him.

Cobb was laying on his side, his back to the door. His hair was wet still from his shower and he was in a hoodie and lounge pants. Din’s heart jumped at the sight.

“Hey, Cowboy,” Din whispered.

Cobb sat up faster than he ever had in his life, feeling dizzy for a moment. He knew he didn’t have the energy to get up at the moment, but how he wanted so badly to run into Din’s arms. He searched his mind for words, any words, but he couldn’t even bring himself to say Din’s name. He felt such a wave of emotions wash over him that the only thing he could do was let the tears in his eyes begin to fall.

Din was by his side in a second, kneeling beside him on the bed, pulling Cobb into his arms. They stayed like that for a long minute, Din stroking Cobb’s hair, much like he would Grogu’s when he was sick. “I’m sorry,” Din whispered once Cobb’s shoulders stopped shaking.

Cobb took a deep, shaky, breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“If I had just let it tie,” Din grumbled, increasingly getting angrier at himself. “If I hadn’t have lied to you- Fennec said you were stressed, I didn’t help with that. If-”

“If nothing,” Cobb whispered. He pulled away enough to meet Din’s gaze. “Medical said this has been building up for days, maybe weeks. It’s not your fault.” Cobb let out what was meant to be a laugh but turned out more as a sob. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. You gave up your spot so I had a chance to win and I messed it up.”

Din offered him a sad smile which Cobb returned. “Don’t say that. I’m so proud of you for how far you went. I just wish you hadn’t gotten sick.” He reached up and brushed his thumb against Cobb’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. His heart broke when Cobb leaned into the touch.

Cobb glanced down at Din’s outfit and back up to his face. “You look nice,” he chuckled.

Din scoffed out a laugh and shook his head. “I made quite the entrance today a Tribal.” He adjusted his collar, his eyes falling to his lap shyly. “I wanted to impress you.”

“You always impress me.” Cobb placed his hand under Din’s chin, prompting him to meet his gaze. Cobb let his hand slide to the back of Din’s neck, playing with the ends of his hair. They stayed there for a moment before Cobb decided he couldn’t stand it anymore and sat forward slowly to place his lips softly against Din’s. It was the first time they kissed without any worry of other players or cameras or the game. Just them.

When they parted Cobb sighed and shifted to lay back down. He was exhausted and even Din could see that. Cobb tugged lightly on Din’s hand and Din laughed as he laid down beside him. Cobb tucked his face into the crook of his neck and sighed contently. Maybe he didn’t have a shot at winning any more, but at least he was with Din.

“I have no idea who I’m voting for,” Cobb whispered.

Din pulled back a little. “What?”

“Fennec played a damn good game but so did Boba. Boba and I have had an alliance since day one but that shouldn’t be what I base my decision off of.” He felt fresh tears form in his eyes again and he had no energy to keep them from falling. “Everyone else has had a few days at least to think about who they want to vote for. I only have twenty-four hours and I wasn’t even supposed to have to make this decision. I just-”

Din pulled back enough to cup the side of Cobb’s face again and bring him in for a silencing kiss. Cobb hummed against Din’s lips as Din ran his fingers gently float up and down Cobb’s back. When they broke, Din rested their foreheads together and gave a soft sigh. “Don’t worry about the game right now,” he whispered. “You have all of tomorrow to think about it. For now you need to rest.”

Cobb nodded and returned to his place against Din’s chest. “Thank you for the letter,” Cobb whispered, his voice horse.

“I needed to make sure you knew how I felt.” Din pulled back just enough to meet Cobb’s eyes. “I meant it. If you’re in, there’s no way you’re getting rid of me. This wasn’t just a part of the game.”

“I know it wasn’t,” Cobb replied. He gave a soft sigh and placed the lightest of kisses on Din’s lips. He broke to speak, only putting an inch of distance between them. “I’m in, Din. I love you.”

Din’s hand found its place in Cobb’s hair again as he pulled Cobb in for a deep kiss, more passionate than any of the ones they had shared until that moment. Finally alone in Cobb’s room at Ponderosa. Just Din and Cobb and the promise of an entire future ahead of them.

[atinybitofau]

[PART 3] S A N ⇲ royal series AU

RECAP: san is king of eden, you’re queen of elos under one nation with 7 other lone kings. still on a forced bonding retreat with king san, you arrive to the kingdom of aurora under mingi and seonghwa’s advisement. Though that advisement becomes a little moreso...

• series masterlist •

⇩ PART THREE ⇩ click me to read part two.

“Welcome to Aurora!”

You’ve been here countless times and sometimes you forget how far away each Kingdom is from one another. Though Mingi and you are close, you only ever see each other on days that allow.

You’re escorted out of the carriage and greet Aurora’s people kindly. King San was known for his nobility and close riches to Mingi’s kingdom so people do diligence to pay their respects. It wasn’t show stopping either that they seemed happy to both your visits.

The three of you enter the castle grounds of which Mingi stayed, his hand maid handing him a scroll of tasks.

“First things first.” The taller man clapped his hands. “Let’s get changed for cropping. Rice— a team building exercise Seonghwa has recommended for the both of you.”

“I own no land in my kingdom to mill rice, Mingi.” You rubbed at your temples. “This is unnecessary.”

“Au contraire mademoiselle,” he speaks to you in French for no apparent reason. “It’s important to keep humble and learn trades of other kingdoms. And see? King San has no objections and you should follow in his footsteps.”

“He’s walking to the bathroom.”

“Not literally!”

You chuckle. “Fine. But if I break a nail milling rice today in your territory, Song Mingi, so help me god I will rip you up.”

“You have my word, your highness.”

Upon changing for the task at hand, you tie up your perm in a messy bun and hold a basket to your hip with the milling tools required. Milling rice couldn’t be that hard. And corsets and silk may be a little constricting working with dirt and plants. You liked to keep modesty in your standards though you hold high social class. And your soldiers saw nothing of it, used to you in particular choice of silk. The other kingdoms men seemed wary by your choice of scrap clothes and whisper empty gossips to each other while Mingi gawks.

“People may get the wrong idea, Queen y/n.” He hurries to your side as you prance around his garden unscathed. “Your highness, maybe you should—“

“Let them whisper about, Mingi.” You wave him off picking tomatoes and eggplants off their stems for supper later. “It’s meaningless words anyway. They mean no harm. It’s important to keep.. humble.”

The red blushes at your mimicry. “Y-yes but don’t you think—“

“I think nothing of it.” You shrug him off looking to a young woman behind him. “Take these to the kitchen and cook up a marvelous soup for us tonight. Make enough for plenty, please.”

The maiden that follows Mingi smiles in a curt bow before taking what you requested not even waiting for the dismissal of her King. Mingi groans in response attempting at it again.

“People may assume you are too humble, your highness.”

“Well husking rice would ruin satin.” You breeze him off as a just-as-humble looking San joined you in a matching brown weaved outfit. “And it seems that I’m not the only one to think so.”

San, in the middle of tying his pants, bows hastily at the both of us. “I hope I didn’t keep you both waiting too long.”

Mingi face palms at that. “Let’s just begin. Before anyone else starts thinking I’m the one not humble enough.”

The lot of you started husking, it coming fairly easily to you though San seemed to be having trouble keeping the rice separate from the husks, lots of bits and pieces falling out. Mingi left to do his bidding being at his own Kingdom, leaving two foreign nobles in the watchful eye of his subordinate. San picked up good things and had enough individuality to adapt well. Although keeping gentle hands was not something he was good at being a King who also lead his soldiers in battle.

You sigh dusting off your dress, rushing over behind San. “With those hands, you’ll lose all your kernels of rice.”

You lace your fingers in his, his body tensing underneath you. “Never been embraced by a woman before?”

“Not from behind.”

Cheeks flaming at his sexual taunt, you help him ease his fingers nonetheless, tossing the basket lightly in your intertwined hands.

“It takes a delicate touch to separate the bad and the good.” You mumble behind him.

While slowly loosening your fingers around his, you find that he was doing it on his own. More attent on your help than anything else.

“Do you always help men like this or is this just going to be an us thing?”

Finally standing from your spot to cock a hand to your hip. A position you found natural around his attitude. “No, I don’t do this with other men. And no, this is not going to be an us thing.”

“Am I interrupting?”

A throat cleared from behind you and a guilty feeling boils as if you were just caught doing something bad. While Mingi’s glaring holes at San, you definitely can’t help the guilty feeling at all.

“I was only helping him.” You defend walking towards Mingi’s strong stance.

“Yeah by caressing my—“

“Is there something you should be telling me, Queen y/n?” Mingi whispers leaning down to you with fury blatant in his eyes. “First you wander off to search for San in an empty field. You two clearly past wanting to be well acquainted, now I’m finding you arms around him like a Shakespearean play with no script.”

You sigh. “Nothing is going on between San and I.”

“Well it sure looks like it!”

Mingi looks back at the King behind you who still seemed out of touch, talking mindlessly with the mentor before you’re being dragged out by none other than Song Mingi himself. You find yourself trudging in hesitation shocked by his sudden abrasiveness.

You look at him in horror before he holds you steady behind a tall pillar. “I don’t like seeing you holding him in such high regard, y/n, I’m worried.”

Y/n?

“Mingi, what is going on with you? Are you mad? How can I possibly hold him in a strong regard after what happened to my father?”

He seemed to have thought through his sudden apprehending anger and simmered down. Still unsatisfied, he trembles with a clenched jaw avoiding your eyes.

“Oh god, don’t tell me you’re jealous Mingi.”

He snaps his eyes at you porcelain skin going pink. You can’t help the endless butterflies from his surprising reaction to your joke, your hands going up to cup his face. You run your thumbs against his bloated pout and mimicked it in empathy.

“You have no reason to envy San’s relationship with me. It’s pure discouragement. Believe me.” You insist, the King of Aurora going weak under your touch.

“I don’t like watching you embrace another man.” He shudders holding at your hands. “Needless to say, and maybe the other kings have the same thought as I, it bothers me to see our princess in someone’s arms other than ours.”

“Well when I’m wed, you may not have the choice.”

“Though I hope it’s soon,” He sighs reluctantly sending you a kind smile. “I’d want it to be with someone I’d prefer.”

“Please don’t observe us like something we’re not.” You mutter about San as you two walk in return to your post. “He’s a King I’m reading for our benefit. You said so yourself to befriend the enemy. I’m just doing what’s considered right.”

“Following your heart was never hard for you, Queen y/n.”

You stop at that smiling broadly at his change of honorific. “Speaking of Queen, you called me y/n for the first time without honorifics.”

He stutters his next words. “I-I was startled by my own emotions. I—“

“Don’t brush it off.” You link your arms with his, feeling somewhat fit by his side. “You know I’ve always hated being addressed formally. Especially with you.”

“It’s my honor and duty to due respect.”

“Though I hold you in the highest regard I don’t find that necessary.”

“Regardless.”

You hum leaning against his arm only to be met with his Baron and San present with no emotion.

“Well don’t you two look quaint.” A look of loathe appeared and smeared the smile of King San when he glanced at the space between you and Mingi. “I’m sure you both caught up with your disagreements and settled them so.”

@atinybitofau

p.s rough edit lol.

a/n: I’m gonna take a quick hiatus from my oneshots cause I gotta recuperate ideas lmao. but I’ll make this pretty priority so ya’ll will see this series pop out a lot. just a quick fyi. love ya guys!