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cherrykindness · 4 years ago

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let's make babies |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: you and harry are doing a live on instagram, you've drunk a lot of wine and now the world knows that the future Mrs. Styles is ready to make babies.

warnings: mostly cute, but the title tells you what you need to know 🤪

"What is your favorite song from the Fine Line album?" Y/N read aloud, twirling in her right hand the second glass of wine of the evening, the one already halfway through. "Adore You and Watermelon Sugar, of course."

Harry giggled, rolling his eyes upon hearing his fiancée's statement.

"Y/N will always choose Adore You because it was obviously written for her." He accused. "She wouldn't give that answer under different circumstances."

The comments climbed up the screen continuously, most fans gushing about how cute Harry Styles and YN/LN could be while the other part was concerned with wringing even more information out of the slightly inebriated couple who had decided to do a surprise live one early Sunday morning.

As expected after being away for some time to begin filming Don't Worry, Darling in Southern California, Harry enjoyed a lazy weekend in the house he shared with his fiancée and her pets. The days were filled with late naps and relentless Netflix marathons, sublime and ethereal evenings, marked mostly by unexpected declarations and rounds of sex that used to last until the beams of light were shyly coming through the linen curtains. They were not a monotonous couple, so this order could easily be changed.

"Watermelon Sugar is nothing more than about my love for watermelons, don't get too creative." Harry replied to a fan while sporting a corner smile, the message standing out among the rest for its dozens of emojis and large print, questioning the singer about erotic content behind the lyrics of his latest hit. "I really don't know what you guys are talking about."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head before leaning it against her fiancé's chest, propped up on the soft white pillows that were spread practically all over the bed. The air conditioner was on at a minimal temperature and a light rain whipped on the panes of glass camouflaged by the cream-colored curtain, that being the projection of Y/N's favorite nights.

"You can tell them, I'm not shy." She joked, nudging her fiancé's waist.

"You know what it was written about and who it was written for." Harry replied, raising one of his eyebrows. "That's what matters."

It went without saying that much of Harry's newest album, as well as some of his earlier work, had been done in exclusive dedication to his future wife. Y/N had been the muse for a vast repertoire of romantic songs, and even though the singer preferred to keep the story behind his more explicit compositions a "secret", the relationship the two had shared for more than three years was already solid and known enough for the media and fans to distinguish hidden messages in small details.

"It's a song about what usually comes before the act of making babies." Y/N laughed as he pointed at the display. "Honestly, you guys are impossible."

"No, we make babies every day." Harry joked, making a funny motion with his eyebrows. "I would spend my entire career writing just about that."

"Harry!" The actress exclaimed incredulously, slapping her fiancé weakly on the chest. "Children might be watching this."

"You don't want to have babies with me?" He asked falsely offended, accepting the cup that Y/N offered him. "Because I want some babies with you."

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched the internet freak out at the dialogue that had suddenly emerged. Since the beginning of the quarantine, it was kind of inevitable that the couple of artists would not become the darlings of all social media; they were fervently active with photos, videos, and lives that depicted step by step daily life in isolation, gaining more and more followers and making the media more and more fascinated by the relationship they both shared.

The wedding was scheduled for the summer of next year and it was perhaps the most anticipated event in the tabloids. Bets about what the model of Y/N's dress would be and lists presuming who would be selected for the short list of guests stood out among countless news stories about the famous people influencing pop culture today.

The possible arrival of a Styles baby was an inevitable topic in interviews. Harry and Niall were the only members of the ex-boyband that had not become fathers yet, and because they had maintained a solid relationship and were seen as one of the most enviable couples during the last four years, Y/N and Harry had gotten used to all this openly asked questions. They didn't mind, they even had fun with the montages and all the anxiety that dominated the whole internet, often mentioning the fandoms' efforts to represent them as such "cool" parents in perfectly edited pictures.

"No, guys, I'm not pregnant." Y/N amusingly clarified the doubt of dozens of new comments. "Please don't believe so many controversial news stories that appear out there. I was on twitter last week and saw several people theorizing about a possible pregnancy, most of the arguments based on a website that used photos from the set of How to Get Away with Murder in the season where I was actually playing a pregnant woman as Laurel." She laughed. "It's so funny! I know you guys love to guess these things, but we won't hide something so special when it actually happen, I promise."

"Especially because Y/N can hide absolutely nothing from anyone." Harry accused, leaving his drink on the corner table before settling into a comfortable position for the two of them. "Anyone who's a Marvel fan knows that. That's one of her most characteristic quirks."

"They gave me a fake script for the last two movies." Y/N agreed, shaking his head. "For me and Tom."

"We agreed to keep the engagement a secret for a while. The plan was to travel to Holmes Chapel to break the news to my family in person, but guess who got a call at ten o'clock at night from an angry Anne because she learned of her son's engagement from an interview Y/N gave the next day?"

Y/N gave a guilty smile, winking gracefully at the camera. "It was all James' fault! I'm sure he already suspected something, those questions were very suspicious."

"Of course the questions were suspicious, babe. You literally said you had a secret that involved both of us but that you couldn't tell because it was important that our families knew first."

"I thought he would think about a pregnancy or something!" The actress defended herself, feeling very convincing in her intonation bordering on obviousness. "That's a mania I can't get rid of, it's in my genes."

"Did you all hear that? Further proof that you guys don't have to worry about guessing when Y/N's pregnancy will be, I'm sure our baby will make sure to tell you everything while still in the womb, mom's genes will make sure of that."

"You are so funny, Harry Styles." Y/N sarcastically stated, holding back a giggle as countless messages with laughing emojis were frantically up. "Yeah, I know I talk a lot and all, but you have annoying quirks too."

It was obvious that live would be news the next day. Although they were completely open about matters concerning their relationship, nothing seemed better than receiving so much exclusive information from a Harry and S/N drunk on expensive wine.

"You wake up in a bad mood and you're dangerously sexy, that should be illegal."

Harry laughed, holding his fiancée's waist a little tighter as he felt her tumble a little further to the side, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Y/N was dangerously weak for drinks, and the singer knew that the actress' body was already near its limit.

"You're the only sexy person here, love." He declared with a corner smile, evidently finding the whole situation funny. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"

"No." Y/N shook her head. "Can we watch some movie? Can we watch Sweet Home?"

"Of course, love." He murmured, giving the woman a quick kiss on the forehead.

Even though Harry knew that his fiancée was unlikely to make it past the five-minute mark of the episode, he made sure to restart the korean series at exactly the scene where she had stopped, the first chapter still halfway through after Y/N realized that it would be impossible to watch such a macabre work without a drop of alcohol in her blood.

She had been so excited by the taste of Argentinian wine and the idea of updating her fans after a few weeks away, that she had forgotten the main purpose of the live. Harry and Y/N had been apart for a few days due to the new movie the Brit was shooting in North America, all happening in an unrestrictedly careful manner due to the restrictions caused by the pandemic.

He was slowly migrating towards acting and the future Mrs. Styles couldn't be prouder. Y/N had felt on cloud nine when Harry had given her the news of his upcoming job, but her only pronouncement on the subject had been a succinct post on instagram. Just a photo of the couple on a trip to Germany with a simple heart emoji didn't seem enough for the actress' exhibitionist soul, and coming to that conclusion was the main reason she decided to invite him, already relatively changed, for a live appearance. Y/N wanted to go on and on about how much she loved that man and work on that whole honeyed speech that would bring her (once again) the title of "cutest bride of all time," but of course Harry had to come home from his trip with his favorite red wine and poison her with those sweet caresses that took her out of orbit, turning the degree of alcohol content into the least of her problems.

"You're going to kiss Florence." Y/N exclaimed suddenly, as if only now realizing that her fiancé would share the screen with Florence Pugh, one of her closest friends in that industry. "Kiss on the mouth."

The MacBook was still open and hundreds of new comments were going up every second, but Harry didn't bother one bit to warn her about the possibility of her becoming a meme the next day. He was having too much fun with the situation to worry.

"Are you jealous?"

"Yes." She stated with a pout. "I am jealous, I just don't know if I'm more jealous of her or of you."

"But you kiss me every day, babe." Harry laughed. "And you've been kissing other people's men for almost ten years." He joked.

"But I only think about you, I already told you that."

Harry shook his head negatively at the camera, knowing he was sharing with the fans the funniest side of his fiancée.

"I know that, honey." He assured, lightly stroking the actress' back. "I think we'd better turn off the TV and go to sleep now, I'm sure you'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."

The brit planned to bid his audience goodbye and put an end to that recording, but Y/N was drunk and her sense of right and wrong had already gone to space. Harry should have been quicker, however, because his fiancée's speech would be cause for new tags and the only subject for the interviewers for at least the next few months.

"I don't want to sleep, how about we make babies?"

That's what Watermelon Sugar was all about, after all.

#harry styles imagine #imagine1d #imagine harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #fluffy imagine #harry fluff #actress reader

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maggiec70 · 3 years ago

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Fun in the Country

My version of Joachim and his BFF, Jean-Boy, at the spa in Bareges and then adjourning to one of J-B's little country properties for more typical Gascon amusements. As always, these shenanigans are seen through the viewpoint of the former Milanese contessa/current aide-de-camp. She disapproves.

Joachim Murat sent Jean a note a few days later. I’m leaving Madrid tomorrow. We should meet at Barèges. It’s a decent spa and not far from you.”

“Why would you want to visit with Prince Murat?” Mariana asked when Jean showed her the note. “You’re always scrapping about something.”

“Not always. Besides, Joachim is entertaining, even when he doesn’t mean to be.”

Mariana resigned herself to a two-day ride to the Pyrenean spa and then days of constant Gascon bragging from two masters of the genre. As rowdy as it promised to be, she hoped the change of scenery would sweep away the last of her anger. Jean had done what she insisted. He’d waved the required documents conferring the majority of his country properties to Jean-Claude under the nose of an elderly black-clad lawyer who creaked each time he moved.

“Give me an official copy,” she’d ordered the lawyer, her peremptory tone causing his furry white eyebrows to rise as his brass-rimmed spectacles slid down his nose. He should have been used to her by then, after her questions directed at him like an artillery assault had determined—finally—that he had the requisite legal acumen and ethics for the task.

“Why did you want a copy?” Jean had asked her when the lawyer scurried away, portfolio clutched tightly beneath one arm. “Don’t you trust me?”

“That’s not the problem. You won’t be here when those documents become an issue. I don’t trust anyone but myself to handle this matter properly.” And if she weren’t around, she would entrust it to one of the phalanx of attorneys who managed her affairs. After all this time with her, they were eminently trustworthy and as ruthless as the Sforzas.

Now, comfortably settled in Barèges, almost everyone drank gallons of rough red wine and told amazingly obscene stories that made Mariana cringe in embarrassment. Neither Jean nor Murat went anywhere near the spa until two days later, complaining of headaches, and by then, she hoped they would both drown. She left whenever she could to explore the neat, tiny village tucked away in a hollow of the hulking, snow-covered Pyrenees, wondering if the change of scene was worth much. She was still angry, but not for the same reasons.

“I don’t know Jean anymore. What’s come over him?” she asked Joseph one evening during a long and raucous meal.

“Given the right circumstances, men revert to a certain type. Be patient—it’ll pass.”

“I can’t imagine you behaving in such a fashion.”

“I have, but you’ve never seen it. You’ll feel better if you ignore it all.”

She couldn’t ignore anything and cringed when Jean suggested they abandon the spa for one of his country properties. “Plenty of room, much more than here. Nobody to disturb us unless we invite them,” he explained, definitely listing to one side.

Murat agreed at once. “Excellent idea, as long as there’s plenty to drink. If you know some lovely ladies to make the time pass pleasantly, be sure to invite them.”

“I’ve got enough Armagnac to put you on your imperial backside every night. As for ladies, I’ll send for as many as you like,” Jean promised in a haze of Bordeaux-inspired grandiloquence. Although the rest of their aides grinned at the prospect, Mariana was livid.

That night she sat rigidly upright in bed, every nerve quivering with anger, while Jean undressed. He wobbled as he tried to get his boots off, and she snickered at him. She hoped he would fall on his face and lie on the rough-planked floor until morning.

“What’s the matter with you?” He tossed the boots aside and fumbled with the buttons on his coat.

“How can you take Prince Murat to that refurbished abbey you bought? How can you promise to amuse him for however long he wishes and send spurious billets-doux to all the women in the countryside? Besides,” she snorted, growing angrier as she spoke, “who’d write them? I expect you’ll ask me since you can’t string three coherent words together. You do know what this makes you?”

Jean did not bother to put on his nightshirt and crawled in bed naked, collapsing against the pillows, one arm flung across his face. “I’m sure you’ll explain. My head’s splitting, so don’t take too long.”

“You’ll be an imperial procurer, in the basest sense of the phrase.”

“Humph!”

“While the prince amuses himself with whichever ladies are besotted enough to accept your invitations, you doubtless expect me to entertain you.”

“You do it anyway.”

Mariana knew neither her anger nor her disapproval would matter in the morning. Leaning over, she blew out the candles. Jean was instantly asleep, snoring gently.

“Merde alors!” She threw a pillow at him, but he never moved.

The following day, not very early, they exchanged pleasant Barèges for the rather outré former abbey of Bouillas near Lectoure. “Surely the monks had better taste than this,” Mariana said after she’d struggled with an ancient, stout wooden door and opened it onto a riotous jumble of gothic, rococo, and Louis Quinze furnishings in the refectory. “If the bedchambers are like this, I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Yes, you will,” Jean replied and led her upstairs.

“It looks like a cheap bordello,” Mariana hissed at him after half a dozen young ladies arrived, as promised, the next evening, “and now it smells like one. I hope the ghosts of the poor, dispersed monks haunt you.”

He grinned at her over the nearly bare shoulder of a blonde in a primrose satin gown determined to charm him, one way or another. Stifling an impulse to slap them both, Mariana stalked out of the refectory and up the stairs.

She sat on the bed in their chamber, full of the most opulently overdone furnishings imaginable. There was scarcely enough room to walk from the door to the bed to the clothes-press to the recessed windows with their thick, wavy glass without bumping into a piece of furniture or a low stool or tripping on the layers of Turkey carpets covering the dark wooden floor. She ignored the assaults on her senses, balled her hands into fists, and swore that this nonsense would end in the next hour or she’d pack up and leave. The muscles in her neck and shoulders tight from anger, she didn’t care what Murat or Joseph or Marcellin or anyone else did where she could see or hear them. But she refused to spend another moment watching overdressed, painted, and perfumed women fawn over Jean. “I’ll put them in their places,” she muttered, sliding off the bed, “and if it causes an uproar, as well as the end of my military career, so be it.”

Mariana yanked off her boots and tossed them in the corner. She stripped off sash, coat, waistcoat, and neckcloth, throwing them across a chair. With an impatient jerk, she removed her shirt and untied the bands across her breasts, shook her hair free of its heavy braid, and ran her fingers through it, coaxing it into its usual waves and curls. After rummaging through her trunk and Jean’s, she deliberately omitted her lace-trimmed drawers and pulled on a clean pair of tight doeskin breeches, silk stockings, and flat-heeled shoes. She took one of his shirts, the cotton batiste so soft it clung to her skin. She thought about dipping the shirt in cold water and then putting it on, as Thérèse Tallien had done with her muslin gowns during the wilder days of the Directory. Instead, she left the laces undone and tied her sash low on her hips, the heavy fringed ends swinging gracefully as she walked. She found her emerald and diamond earrings tied in the corner of a handkerchief and put them on, pleased with the way they sparkled and swayed, unconcerned with the incongruity of fine jewelry and her motley attire. Creeping down the hall and into a chamber occupied by one of the female guests, she splashed herself with perfume from a cut crystal bottle. “About what I expected,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the heavy scent of ambergris.

Mariana descended the stairs, hoping the worn treads wouldn’t creak. No one noticed her until she had sauntered halfway across the room and shoved the primrose-clad woman’s soft, bejeweled hand from Jean’s arm.

“This one belongs to me,” she said, ignoring the woman’s stunned expression and the sudden quiet in the room. Mariana perched on Jean’s knee, buried her hands in his hair, and kissed him until she ran out of breath.

“You’ve been a fool, keeping this beautiful creature hidden from the world,” Murat said. “Ma foi, I think you’ve outdone Masséna. Where’d you find her?”

“It’s a very long story,” Jean said. “I can’t tell you right now.”

Mariana enjoyed watching him squirm, although not from the prince’s comments. “What’s the matter, mon cher? Are your breeches too tight?” She nipped at his ear. “You probably shouldn’t stand up.”

“The hell I won’t!” Jean pushed her off his knee, stood abruptly, and grasped her wrist so tightly that she winced. He strode from the room, pulling her along to the sound of Murat’s approving whistle.

...and you can imagine the rest if you like. I remember laughing the entire time I spent writing the entire scene, pleased that I'd pretty well nailed it. Nothing like real historical people having sex, is there?

#joachim murat #Jean-Boy #country life #teenage boys

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achaoticeternal · 5 years ago

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A Dance. A Chase. A Purpose.

RANSOM DRYSDALE X READER masterlist // taglist

request from anon: 35. "sit your ass back down and talk to me" with Ransom Thrombey pretty please??😍

Summary: Ransom never has been one to chase a gall, but you’ve always been different. Word Count: 3.4k A/N: This is a reader and Ransom at a very formal gala. The Thrombey’s and Drysdale’s are “high class” people, they attend these kinds of things but I haven’t seen anyone write something like this! I hope you guys really enjoy it! This is also a lot of dialogue... whoops Warnings: Light swearing, people flirting with the reader, Ransom being an asshole but not a complete asshole

ANOTHER REAL QUICK NOTE: I WROTE ABOUT RANSOM IN A MAROON VELVET SUITE BEFORE THE GOLDEN GLOBES HAPPENED AND CHRIS JUST HAPPENED TO WEAR THAT EXACT OUTFIT TO THE GOLDEN GLOBES AND ALL I’M SAYING IS THAT THE UNIVERSE CAME THROUGH

His blue eyes continuously stalked you throughout the hours you attended the Gala. It wasn’t his scene and yet he adored the thought of ruining your perfect evening just with his presence.

“Who put Ransom on the guest list?” You hissed at one of the event coordinators, “Don’t you remember what he did at the art show I hosted last year?”

“I’m terribly sorry Miss, but he’s the plus one for Mr. Thrombey,” the hesitant man replied, looking awfully terrified.

You took multiple deep breathes to soothe yourself and stop yourself from becoming flustered. Ransom has this awful hold on you that everyone could not, and you could absolutely not stand. He knew just how to stir you, be that good or bad, and absolutely ruin what should be paradise. He truly was the devil in a maroon velvet suit that was perfectly tailored to him.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry for flashing, thank you for all your assistance tonight,” You smiled kindly to the man before scurrying off to find something to occupy yourself before Ransom had a chance.

Tonight, all you wanted to do was raise funds to assist the homeless shelters in major U.S cities and inspire a few billionaires and millionaires to hand over a hefty check. But you had to play a little game to get money from the elite class. You made your way all around the ballroom in the designer gown; it was black and floor-length, layer upon layer of fine black lace. Across the skirt was intricate gold stars sewn into the material as an illusion collar and mesh sleeves complimented your top. Your appearance mixed with your charm could allure both men and women into acquiring whatever you desired. You knew that inevitably somehow you would run into Ransom since Harlan was a huge donor to your foundation.

“Oh, (Y/N),” It seemed you’d be seeing him sooner than you thought as Mr. Thrombey waved you over. Gracefully, you turned to see him and other authors you’d invited enjoying their wine and making various comments about the younger people attending the gala. Harlan motioned at an empty seat, “my dear.”

“Alright, but I can’t stay long. Apparently, I’m the only one left with their head screw on right this evening,” You smiled as the older group chuckled.

“You’ve always been a prize, (Y/N). Standing out in school, in your community, and now your foundation. Your grandparents would be proud,” Margret, a theatre critic, complimented you.

Her words were almost reassuring. Your grandparents had left their company and their estate to you, their only granddaughter. The rest of the family received their fair cut of shares and money, but your grandparents believed that you had the best potential in ruining their media empire.

But you felt all joy leave your body as a large pair of hands rested themselves upon your shoulder, squeezing them just tight enough to create a numbing sensation, “Yes, and she also always was quite the star in high school and even university. Our professor often gawked at how well-knowledged she is, and even her charm.”

You rested your right hand on top of Ransom’s, peeling it off and letting it drop to his side, “Well, Ransom, it’s wonderful for you to join us at the Charity Gala tonight. I hope everything is just as proper and tasteful to your liking.”

“Well, it’s a nice little set-up you have, but I’ve always been a man to enjoy a good party with plenty to drink and-”

“Hugh,” Mr. Thrombey warned his grandson.

Ransom gave her grandfather a childish glare before sighing, “But it’s still just so lovely, (Y/N).”

“This has just been so grand,” You stood and brushed out any wrinkles in the skirt of your dress, “but I must go meet with the city’s mayor to talk about the proceeds from this evening before they reach a politician's hands. Please feel free to check out our silent auction tables, there are some wonderful prizes to be won. And once we announce the winners, we will have a large auction while dinner is served in the banquet hall at 8.”

With pep in your step, you quickly made your own way to the banquet hall to make sure everything was going swimmingly.

- - -

“Yes, and up there on the platform, the seats will go the mayor’s wife, the mayor, the governor, myself, the senator, his wife, and then his son,” you pointed down the long table. Then you turned to look out over a sea of tables, chairs, and name cards, “And the menu is set for this evening?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everything is under control, tidy, and might I say, luxurious, thanks to you,” your proceeds manager, Pierce, complimented you.

“You’re too kind,” you slapped his arm lightly, “now, guests my enter around 7:30 or whenever the staff finishes setting our the glasses and rolls.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” you heard your name called by a silver tongue serpent who managed to sneak into the banquet hall early. As he sauntered over to you, Pierce noticed how to seemed to deflate slightly in the man’s presence.

“Miss, I’m so sorry, I’ll go tell security too-”

“It’s fine, Pierce. Hugh is an... acquaintance that I’ve known for years.”

“That’s a strange way of putting childhood enemy,” Ransom teased as he took a sip out of his champagne glass, “or childhood crush depends on how you view it.”

“Yes, yes, how could I forget. Pierce,” you gave him a look to dismiss him as you turned to look pointedly at Ransom, “what are you doing here now? The schedule is clear and I don’t understand why you can’t just fo-”

“You know schedules and timetables aren’t my forte, honey,” he cut you off, which he knew made your blood boil, “but I wanted to address a little rumor I heard? Apparently, at the banquet auction- you are going to be a prize.”

“I’m not a prize, I’m a respected woman,” you sneered, “and my marketing and social managers decided it would help the cause if we auctioned off a dance with one of the most powerful and eligible bachelorette's in New York.”

“Well then,” His eyes scanned across your face but going lower. You snapped your fingers in front of his face to snap him out of whatever the hell he was trying to do, “I guess I’ll be able to show you what a fantastic dancer I am tonight when I win.”

“In your dreams, Ransom,” You said with a smile as you heard the doors open and a crowd begin the flutter in, “Now please if you would so kindly take your seat able table 6.”

- - -

“Thank you so much for attending tonight’s charity gala,” You smiled warmly as you spoke into the microphone. Much applause followed, “This evening’s event couldn’t have happened without help from so many people within the community and all of you here tonight. I have a lot of people to thank tonight, but first I would like to thank the wonderful orchestra for providing such wonderful music.”

You gestured to the group seated on the right side of the banquet hall as they took their bows. You allowed for the chatter to calm before continuing your speech to thank the hotel and its’ management, the catering, your parents and siblings, your personal assistant, “and lastly I have three very important men and their families in attendance tonight. The Mayor of New York City, The Governor, and even Senator Holstead.” Each of the men stood, waved to the crowd, and were applauded, “And now, I would like to invite the Senator’s eldest son, MR. Wyatt Holstead to join me in announcing the winner’s for tonight’s silent auction and then we will proceed to bidding on specialty items.”

“Thank you so much, Ms. (Y/L/N). Isn’t she just fantastic?” Wyatt smiled at the audience as he made his way up to you with his own mic. He stood next to you and took your hand, “It is an absolute honor to be assisting you tonight and a help you raise funds to solve homelessness in this beautiful city, once and for all. But being in your striking beauty might be the cherry on top.”

You giggled as he raised your hand to his lips and kiss your knuckles softly. However, you could feel the tension across to the room as you made eye contact with Ransom, who was clapping with a less than excited look upon his face, “Why thank you. Now, Wyatt will be drawing and announcing the names of the winners while I present you will the item of auction. So- let’s begin.”

You forgot about Ransom and his predatory gaze as you awarded baskets and various items to strangers and friends that won them. The flashes of cameras and shaking of hands stirred your brain until Wyatt ended the silent auction.

“Congratulations to the winners! Checks can be dropped off this evening or mailed to the donation center within the next three days. But now, we move onto our live auction where we have some stellar items and events up for sale tonight!”

“You’re right, Wyatt. This first item up to bid tonight is a trip to the beaches of Italy on an all-expenses-paid vacation! Let’s start the bidding at $500, shall we?”

Immediately, hands and ladies’ fans flew up in the air. It was amazing how fast items were going and how quickly the evening was flying by.

“Going twice... Sold! The fountain pen collection goes to Mrs. Margret Dunwoody!” Wyatt called. There was applause as she grabbed her prize, “And now, for the final auction before any real partying or dancing begins, we have a real treat. One lucky person will be able to share the first dance and be treated to breakfast with our own, Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! Now, this is quite the prize so let’s start the bidding at... two thousand?”

The hands’ of New York’s finest bachelors and bachelorettes shot up high.

‘$2,500″

“$3,500″

“$4,000!”

“$5,000!”

“$25,000,” One loud voice called from the center of the room. Ransom had stood, a smirk plastered to his face as his blue eyes met your own.

“$30,0-” Another man tried to yell out.

“$50,000,” Ransom called on top of him, “Anyone else?”

“Well then,” Wyatt said, looking to you and winking, “$60,000.”

“$75,000,” Ransom called back with ease.

“$85,000,” Wyatt retorted.

You began to become nervous. It would be awkward to watch Ransom’s and Wyatt’s little showdown, but you were the prize which made the experience only that much unsettling, “Boys, boys, you’re both pretty.”

“Going once...” You looked at Ransom only to be pondering something, “Going twice...” you started to pray that anyone else would bid, Wyatt was still in college and you didn’t need your record destroyed by a horny boy...

“$150,000!”

The banquet hall went completely silent, no one said a thing. You could here pen drop in the room with how deafening it was.

“Sold to Mr. Ransom Drysdale!” The Mayor called out from his seat, sensing the tension, “Now if Mr. Drysdale will make his way up to the platform to escort his prize to the dance floor.”

Ransom held a bit of swagger in his stride as he approached you. The shock was still evident in your stature as you tried to smile. People applauded and the band began to play again.

“My dear,” Ransom held his hand out for you, making sure to make this look a publicly decent as he could. You took his hand and he leads you down the stairs of the platform. Once you were on his level, he placed a hand upon your lower back and guided you towards the dance floor.

The band began to play a slow number that had the slightest touch of an upbeat. Ransom was surprisingly a great dance partner and easily guided you around the floor which captured the eyes of all in the banquet hall.

“You know, you’re not half bad at dancing,” you attempted to compliment him.

“I guess private school pays off a bit, but I’d still prefer dancing under your sheets,” he said in a sultry tone into your ear.

“Dammit, Ransom. I’m trying to enjoy my evening because you’ll be there to ruin my morning,” he spun you twice before pulling you into his chest again, “why did you even place a bid? You hate donating to charity, unless by force, and you know I can’t stand you.”

“Well, you know I love getting under your skin and I think the other bidder doesn’t have the same experience as I do,” He beamed, “in any category.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“But you can’t help but love me,” his lips dragged across your cheek.

The music faded out and a DJ began playing today’s hits. With all the formalities taken care of, this was no longer was your scene, “Well, good night, Ransom. I’ll see you in the morning and you can tell me about whatever girl you hooked up with, in the morning.”

With that, you escaped up to your suite in the hotel, hoping not to interact with anyone for the rest of the evening.

- - -

It was a few hours later now and you were still wide awake, relaxing in the living area of your suite as Brooklyn Nine-Nine played on the television. You had already showered and your hair was almost finished air drying, but you still wore the hotel robe. It was peaceful and allowed you to digest the events from the evening. But a knock on the door alerted you of an unexpected guest.

“Who is it?”

“Room service, ma’am,” You opened the door to reveal a young man with a cart, “Gifts from the hotel managers and a special man who wanted to thank you for this evening.”

“Oh well, thank you, just cart it in wherever you like,” You nodded and let him through. He quickly took care of his job before exiting, “good night.”

You grabbed the first card on the cart, a little formal thank you note from the hotel for a smooth event and the wonderful publicity. There was a second one with no name, but you figured it was one of the politicians you invited this evening.

You looked like the night sky, but you shined brighter than any star.

Shaking your head, you let out a small giggle at the little note like you were a school girl again. Even if there was a bump or two in the evening, it all still went practically perfect. But a second knock came from the door.

“If it’s another cart, I’m afraid I’m out of room in here,” You teased, only to open the door to reveal Ransom.

“Well, were the flowers not enough? I didn’t know my prize would still be so hard to please, even after I swept her off her feet on the dance floor.” Here he was, smirk and all. Instead of his usual behavior of prowling a dance floor for a girl to satisfy him for the night, he was here, satisfying his need to tease you.

“Ransom, I-uh... Shouldn’t you be downstairs?” You pulled the robe close to your body like it could shield you from anything he could say or do to you.

“Well, my date left me on the floor-”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s late, and I’m not a prize to be won, and you-”

“(Y/N),” He looked you in the eyes with his own blue ones that could make any woman melt and suddenly you understood why he came upstairs, “Can I come in, please?”

“I- maybe not tonight...”

“Please”

You took a deep breath before opening the door to allow him in, “Okay, but I do plan to go to bed before long.”

He walked in and immediately got a beer out of the hotel fridge before taking a seat on the couch. You grabbed yourself a bottle of water before joining him on the couch.

“So, were you trying to get away from your grandfather? or an ex?”

“No, I figured it was time we talk. And I mean actually talk. Not argue or bicker like we do in front of everyone else.”

“I don’t remember a time where we didn’t, so...”

“Maybe because you never give me the chance to talk-”

“Well, maybe that’s because every time I’ve tried to open up to you or trust you, you just cut me off...”

“Maybe that’s because you keep trying to meddle in my life like my family does!”

“I’m not doing this tonight! Not after everything I accomplished, I’ll see you in the morning,” you pushed yourself off the couch and attempted to make your way into the bedroom.

“No, (Y/N), I-” He let out a sigh and shook his head, “sit your ass back down and talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Ransom!”

“There is everything to talk about”

IT hit you like a brick. He wanted to talk it out because after all this time he still wanted you. He wanted back sneaking into each other’s dorms. Pretending to hate each other, but sneaking kisses behind friends and family. You were the only person to ever deny him from what he needed. You were the girl to leave him on the floor. The same way you had left him on the floor homecoming your junior year, semi-formal your senior year of college, and various club outings. And now tonight in front of the public. You had always been the only girl to leave him alone and the only girl to walk out on him first. And after all this time, he still chased after you, because you were consistent.

“Dammit, (Y/N). Why do you act like this? We have history, but you insist on acting like it never happened or that it was all bad.”

“Ransom, you know why we both called it all off...”

“Because you were inheriting a large media network? You could risk doing ONE thing that your mother didn’t approve of. I know why, but I’ll never understand-”

“Because you made me reckless and I couldn’t let my life slip through my fingers while I lived a perfectly pleasurable life off of daddy’s money. I need purpose and you never gave me one.”

“But you gave me purpose. And tonight, you looked like a night sky, shining bright with a thousand stars and reminded me of those nights where we laid under the starry sky and you let me spoil you. You helped me deal with the abomination that is my family, you were helping me learn to be a better person.” He took your hands into his own large ones and rested his forehead against yours, “I was going to propose and we were going to find a purpose together.”

“Fuck, Ransom,” The tears slid down your cheeks, but he caught them with his thumbs, “Why do we have to do this now? I was just starting to truly move on. Why can’t you let the idea of us go?”

“Because it’s the only good idea I’ve ever had. Please, (Y/N), I love you.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. In all the time that Ransom and you had spent together - teasing each other or flirting or otherwise - he had never said that he loved you. You never even heard him tell his parents he loved them. He truly wanted you.

“I- We... We can try again. But it’ll be slow and it will take time to heal what we burned, but if you’re willing than I am too.”

“That’s all I need to hear,” he whispered before pressing his lips against yours.

- - -

The next afternoon, images of you and Ransom having brunch and holding hands while wandering around New York were splattered across media and magazine sites alike. People and reporters asked about the charity event the night before, what this relationship meant for your company, and even asking if you both were finally coming public with your relationship after months of hiding it.

A young reporter caught Ransom and asked it you satisfied his desires, targeting Ransom’s playboy bachelor status.

“I think you should be asking (Y/N) how much she raised for the homeless and those living off in a single evening instead of objectifying her. She’s the most powerful and influential woman in the nation and desrves more respect than that. Go report her record-breaking funding to your Editor, instead of a dumbass’s opinion on if she makes a good shag or not, sweetie.”

Once you made it into his car and made your way to Boston, you turned to him, “Thank you, for everything you said.”

“Of course, it was all honest and true. But I was never gonna tell them how wonderful you feel beneath me.”

“Ransom-”

“Oh c’mon, you love me”

#mattie writes #ransom thrombrey #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey imagine #chris evans #cevans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x y/n #knives out

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darkarfs · 4 years ago

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the worst movie tie-ins in the history of wrestling

Wrestling is stupid, and will show its ass at the mere mention of cross-promotion, especially when it comes to movies, which is it's cooler older brother that can get away with a lot more. Hell, the 2nd ever SummerSlam's main event, in 1989, was Hulk Hogan facing the main villain, Tiny Lister as Zeus (RIP), from the film they were both in, No Holds Barred. So wrestling's always wanted a piece of that. So... - Army of the Dead Let's just get this one out of the way. Here's the thing; I thought the WrestleMania Backlash's card was fucking perfect...except for this weird business. WMB MIGHT've been the best show of the pandemic (hot take) were it not for making sure we sell Big Dave's big zombie heist movie. If they had just kept some of the guys in zombie makeup on the Thunderdome's webcam footage, that would have been borderline charming. But instead, the Miz (who was WWE champion 3 months ago, don't forget) and Damien Priest (who they're making WWE's pop-culture liaison so far on the main roster, for some reason) had to sell for zombies in a lumberjack match. If this was the first ever wrestling show you watched with a loved one who had never watched wrestling or hadn't since like, the end of the Attitude Era, would you for a second want them to stick around after Miz and Morrison get, for all intents and purposes, kayfabe killed and eaten, and then watch Damien Priest shoot the logo at the ceiling? My money's on "no." - Shaft Speaking of the Attitude Era, anytime someone tells you that wrestling was cooler in that 3-year time frame, point them to the June 15th of 2000 episode of SmackDown, where a storyline that ran throughout the show followed Patterson and Briscoe through New York City to find Crash Holly and his Hardcore Title. Now, I admit parts of this are kinda funny, like Briscoe just wanting to give up and find a "gen-yoo-WINE New York hot dawg!" That's fun! And who does Crash Holly run into but none other than Shaft, and his woman, the only one who understands this complicated man, John Shaft. So, we have real Samuel L. Jackson, playing fake John Shaft, talking to real/fictional Crash Holly, and man is it weird. Anyway, Shaft agrees to be Crash's bodyguard for the night, and he slaps around Patterson and Briscoe in a nightclub. After all, what better way to get across how cool and badass a character is than having him knock around the fucking Stooges? - The Wrestler Well, this is complicated. The Wrestler, starring ancient wooden lion Mickey Rourke, is a somber tale about an industry that, in its heyday, left people physically spent, washed-up and addicted to adrenaline at best, and dead at worst. It famously moved Roddy Piper to tears because he recognized what destruction and brokenness the industry once left in its wake. Which is why it's super-weird that WWE jumped at the chance to promote maybe the bleakest possible look at their world in 2009, and did so by having Chris Jericho smack the shit out of three old wrestlers at WrestleMania 25, including Roddy Piper. And then have Rourke jump into the ring, wearing his "do you want to take peyote in the desert?" starter kit and bring out his amateur boxing chops. Tonally, it's just really bleak. Like if the creator of Super Size Me screened the premiere at the world's biggest McDonald's. - Bride of Chucky Poor Rick Steiner. You didn't deserve this. You're the sane Steiner. They shouldn't have made you talk to the puppet. So, WCW was heading into Halloween Havoc 1998, and after years of stomping all over the WWF in the ratings, the wheels had come off, and dramatically. Like, all at once. Like the car in the Blues Brothers. To boost PPV buys, they spent a fortune bringing in the Ultimate Warrior to rekindle a feud with Hulk Hogan, mostly by hiding in his fucking mirror. And the Steiner Brothers, one of the best teams of the early 90s, had been feuding with one another since Scott turned on his at SuperBrawl. What was the best way to build hype around this match at Halloween Havoc? Why, to have Rick get into a war of words - and lose - to Chucky. Yes.

Serial killer doll voiced by Brad Dourif, and it's so sad. Chucky cusses Rick out while Rick challenges the fucking doll to a fight, which is promptly ignored (Chucky's video segment is pre-recorded, and you can tell because he starts talking about 3 times in 3 minutes while Rick's mid-promo and missing his cues to stop) and then is made fun of. And all the while, people were probably wondering "what's going on on Vince's show?" and the answer is...that was the episode of Raw where Austin fills Vince's Corvette with cement, which is slightly more badass than being teased by a puppet. - The Goods Here's the thing: Raw is, right now, a bad show. It is bad TV. It's been bad for a while now. And as bad as it is right now, it's still not as fuck-awful as it was in 2009, aka the Age of the Guest Hosts (which, in kayfabe, was given to us by Donald J. Trump, so blame that ambulatory Nazi scrotum for one more thing, he's certainly earned it). For those of you fortunate enough to not be watching what was objectively unwatchable at the time - and hell, I sure as shit wasn't checking in very often - from mid-2009 to around mid-2010, a celebrity would be the special guest host of Monday Night Raw, often to promote a TV show or movie, and it was nearly all horribly-written, cheesy wank. Imagine if every week was the week of the zombie attack at Backlash. That's what it was like. Bob Barker was funny. The Muppets were good. And THAT'S the end of the list. MacGruber coming out to blow up R-Truth made me want to fall on a knife. The A-Team coming out to beat up Virgil was fucking awful. Go straight to fucking HELL, the Three Stooges, Dennis Miller, the reverend Al Sharpton, the 2010 Pittsburgh Steelers, Don Johnson and Jon Heder, the poor entire cast of Hot Tub Time Machine...and then there's Piven. Jeremy Piven. He showed up with Ken Jeong to promote a movie no one remembers...called the Goods. He stunk up several segments, infamously called SummerSlam "the Summer Fest" and then got roughed up by John Cena. Wrestling's the worst. Stop watching. And many did. For a looooooong time. - Robocop 2 This one's infamous, so I'll keep it brief. Robocop 2 came out in 1990, and goddamn, I don't know how much money the producers threw at WCW, but it was enough for them to rebrand an entire PPV "Capitol Combat: the Return of Robocop" and marketed the entire thing around the fancy metallic gentleman. The branding really made it seem like Robert Cop was old friends with the promotion, and indeed, old friends with Sting. Makes sense; two big, heroic idiots running on BASIC. He had been feuding with the Four Horsemen, who locked him in a cage at ringside. Out comes Robocop, called completely straight by Jim Ross, who rips the cage door off his hinges, and then leaves. An accumulated 85 seconds of screen time. Totally worth being the centerpiece of this PPV! But a little context as to why WCW fans hated it so much: 1989, the year before, was regarded by WCW fans as one of the best in company history. The era that gave us stuff like Chi-Town Rumble and the still-very-much-lauded peak of the Steamboat/Flair feud. To go from that to Robocop was seen as a bit of a slap in the face, because WCW was always seen as the more traditional "wrasslin'" company and was never into cheesy pop-culture crossovers, which is why the last one...is all the funnier.

- Ready To Rumble First of all, those dumbasses at Turner had to give Michael Buffer - who they still had on retainer - around $350,000 just to use that title, because he owns the trademark to that phrase. Strike 127 million, capitalism, that a guy gets to own a phrase and gets paid an obscene amount when he or anyone else uses it. Secondly, I initially wasn't going to do movies where the promotion itself is producing the movie, or oh holy HELL would See No Evil and the infamous May 19 shit be on here. But unlike See No Evil, this had a hand in killing a decades-old wrestling promotion, so it feels weird to not include it. On April 7th, 2000, bad movie Ready To Rumble was released, a film about two hapless dorks trying to help Oilver Platt, aka the lawyer from the West Wing, become WCW World Heavyweight Champion. Two weeks later, to promote the movie, they made David Arquette, the lead actor in the movie, the WCW World Heavyweight Champion. He pinned Eric Bischoff, who wasn't the champion, of course, in a match where he was teamed with Diamond Dallas Page, his best pal and the company's top babyface at the time, but who is also one of the villains in the film to make it extra confusing for the mainstream casual audience the movie was made to attract. And, to be fair, Arquette didn't want to do it, NO ONE really wanted to do it, and it tanked viewership for WCW once and for all. At the very least, David took his payday from the wrestling appearances and the film and gave it to the families of Owen Hart, Brian Pillman and to Darren Drozdov, who had been paralyzed from the neck down in a wrestling match the previous year.

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azulsartdump · 4 years ago

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Picking Roses

@r0setarts slapped me in the face with this idea while we were chatting in dms a few days ago and I felt compelled to write it out. It turned out a lot longer than I thought it would, so be warned its a lengthy read compared to what I usually post.

It had been two weeks since Riddle had last seen Azul. They weren’t in the same year, let alone the same class, so it was rare they spent time with each other outside of planned excursions. What was quite common, however, was the exchanging of pleasantries as the passed each other in the hall or sending each other amiable smiles when their eyes met from across the dining hall. The blue haired women had not crossed his vision even once during that time, though, and it had begun to worry him a bit.

In all honesty, Riddle would have thought that she was trying to avoid him if Marsella hadn’t enlightened him to Azul’s situation.

“Oh, did Cater not tell you?” Marsella raised a brow, a bit surprised that the dorm leader hadn’t been informed. “Azul left for the Valley of Thorns about two weeks ago. Apparently some urgent business came up so Crowley exempt her from classes for a few weeks.”

Ah, so that’s what had happened. Riddle remembered hearing that Azul’s family had quite a high position in the Valley of Thorns’ royal court. It confused him why Malleus or Lilia had not been summoned back to their home alongside her, but perhaps it was something below their station or a problem pertaining solely to the Attwood family. Regardless of what it was, Riddle hoped it would be solved soon. He’d never admit it, but he was quite eager to see the faery again.

The rest of the week passed, and there was no sign that Azul had returned from her trip home. Riddle supposed it made sense, though. The school’s scheduled spring break had arrived and it would have made very little sense to return to Night Raven College only to travel back home a few days later.

On the carriage ride to his own home, the red head couldn’t help but allow his thoughts to drift to the dragonfly faery. She’d remained as friendly as she always had been with him since Valentine’s Day had come and gone. It wouldn’t have bothered him much, but the lack of response to his gift outside of a bright ‘thank you’ from her weighed heavily in the back of his mind.

Riddle arrived home much more quickly than he had anticipated, and the last thing he had expected to find was his mother and father running around the house like headless chickens.

“Oh, Riddle, thank goodness you’re home now,” his mother heaved out a sigh of relief once she noticed his arrival. “We have very important guests visiting tomorrow. It’s imperative we all prepare ourselves perfectly for their arrival.”

It wasn’t often that the Rosehearts residence had guests, so the fact that they were having visitors was proof enough to Riddle of their importance. While their home was always quite clean, Riddle noted that his parents had taken special care to ensure that every room in the house was absolutely pristine as he made his way to his room. The floors looked like they had been freshly waxed, the rugs were washed, and all the shelves were dusted and reorganized.

Upon opening the door to his room, he noticed a suit had been hung up next to his closet. He assumed it was what his mother wanted him to wear the next day to greet their visitors. As Riddle unpacked his luggage, he couldn’t help but wonder who exactly his family would be welcoming tomorrow.

Riddle was awoken early the next morning by his mother insisting he bathe himself before their guests arrived. As he soaked in the tub, he noted that his mother had added scented oils to the water and his eyebrows furrowed a bit at the realization. It was clear to him that whoever would be arriving would have business relating to him specifically if his mother was putting so much effort into his appearance.

The next few hours seemed to fly by as Riddle helped his parents finish their preparations. With every passing minute, both his anxiety and curiosity toward their visitors grew, and he found his heart was racing by the time his mother rushed both him and his father out the front door with the simple phrase, “They’re here.”

Riddle struggled to keep his strides slow and even as his family made their way to the entrance of their front yard. An ornate black carriage pulled by two similarly colored horses loomed behind the front gates. The silver embellishment gleamed in the early afternoon sun and the forest green curtains were drawn closed, disallowing Riddle a glimpse of who was inside before they exited.

Riddle drew in a sharp breath as the carriage’s door clicked open. as the door swug wide, an extremely tall man dressed in a black and green uniform exited. His heeled boots clicked against the cobblestone road, and a long, flowing cape billowed behind him. His ivory skin starkly contrasted against the deep obsidian strands of hair that fell over his face and an ornate eyepatch was situated over the right side of his face. His sharp green eyes seemed to pierce right through Riddle as he gave a curt nod in greeting. He calmly turned as the carriage behind him shook a bit, signaling another person was about to exit.

Riddle’s breath hitched again as his gaze fell on the woman that appeared next. Her blue hair was done up in a braided bun, and she wore a skirted uniform similar to the man beside her. She gently took the man’s hand as he helped her step out of the carriage and offered a bright smile to Riddle and his family upon gaining her balance on the stone road. Her fuchsia eyes never seemed to leave his as she made her way through the front gates of his home, the man that accompanied her following close behind.

“Marquess Attwood, Lady Attwood, it’s an honor,” Riddle’s mother greeted the two as she curtsied. His father followed suit, bowing respectfully and Riddle quickly imitated.

“Mister and Missus Rosehearts, you have my gratitude for agreeing to this meeting,” Azul’s father gave a slight bow in greeting as Azul curtsied beside him. After exchanging formalities, Riddles mother led them all to the living room and everyone silently settled into their seats. A beautiful tea set was laid out on the table before them, and Riddle’s mother moved to pour everyone a cup.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, Marquess Attwood?” she gently set the tea pot down, replacing it with her own tea cup as she took a small sip from it.

“Ah, straight to the point. An admirable quality to have,” Azul’s father took his own cup, nodding in gratitude. “As you wish then, allow me to omit the pleasantries and small talk. I’d like to propose an engagement between my daughter and your son.”

Riddle nearly choked on his own spit, and his attention was quickly drawn to his mother, who had managed to actually choke a bit on her tea. She coughed into her fist before she quickly cleared her throat and righted herself.

“A-An engagement you say?” she all but croaked out the question as she placed her tea cup down on the table. “This is a bit sudden...” Riddle snuck a peek at his father who was staring blankly at the tea cup in his hands, likely still trying to process the fact that his son just received an engagement proposal from the daughter of a marquess.

“Is it though?” Azul’s father raised his eyebrows in surprise. “My daughter has fancied your son for quite a while. Why, when she returned home from school for the winter vacation a few months ago, your son was all that was on her mind.”

“F-Father, please,” Azul sent an embarrassed glance her father’s way and he chuckled in response.

“Back to the matter at hand,” Marquess Attwood turned his attention back to Riddle’s mother. “If it’s credentials you’re concerned with, I’m sure my daughter will be up to your standards.” He produced a small stack of papers and slid them over to the woman across from him.

“As you can see, she’s a decorated knight, as well as a close confidant to our crown prince himself. She’s also a well established lady in high society. Many of my friends and their daughters can attest to that. Her education is extensive, and she’s had experience in assisting me in keeping our county and estate running smoothly.”

Riddle could practically see his mother’s head spinning as she flipped through the papers Azul’s father provided and his father simply stared slack jawed as the marquess continued to list his daughter’s achievements. Looking over at Azul, he could see the prominent blush on her cheeks as she listened to her father ramble about her. She probably wanted to stop him, but knew better than to do so again in front of their hosts.

“Of course, the decision is ultimately up to your son,” the marquess turned his attention to Riddle and the rest of the group followed suit. “I wouldn’t want to lock either of our children in an unwanted marriage.”

Riddle could feel the tension in the room settle in, and it took everything in him to keep himself for fidgeting under the pressure. The look on his mother’s face was intense if nothing else. He couldn’t quite place it, but he knew whatever she was feeling, it was extreme. His father, on the other hand, looked more panicked than anything. Glancing over at Azul, her expression was almost unreadable. Her lips were tilted up in a practiced smile, but he recognized the eager curiosity in her eyes.

“W-Would you allow me a moment to speak with Lady Attwood?” His voice cracked at the start of his sentence and he cursed himself in his head at the slip up.

“Of course, please go ahead.” A smug grin spread across the marquess’s lips as he nodded toward his daughter in acknowledgement. Azul rose from her seat, and Riddle followed, approaching her and offering his arm.

“Why don’t you show her the rose garden, Riddle,” his mother’s voice was steady, but he could tell from the way her brows were knitted she was still a bit shaken. He nodded in response as Azul took his arm and led the blue-haired fairy away from the rest of the group.

As soon as they were outside, a large grin split across Azul’s face, and an undignified snort sounded from her before she burst out in a fit of laughter.

“I- gasp I’m sorry,” Azul attempted to speak as she tried to calm her cackling. “T-The looks gasp on your faces!”

“What is going on?” Riddle firmly planted his hands on her shoulders, panic and confusion written on his face. “I don’t see you for weeks and the next thing I know you’re popping up in my home to propose an engagement?

“Huh? But you proposed to me first.” As Azul’s giggles died down, her eyebrows furrowed a bit, but her bright smile remained ever present.

“What?” Riddle’s grip on Azul’s shoulders tightened as his confusion grew. “When did I do that?”

Azul’s smile dropped as a look of surprise overtook it.

“Ah... um,” her expression quickly morphed into one of realization, then hurt disappointment. “Well, a human picking roses for a faery is the equivalent of a vow of matrimony. And I know they’re not exactly roses, but when you gave me the begonias, I kind of assumed...”

A shock of embarrassment shot through Riddle as he listened to Azul’s explanation. Had Marsella known that when she told him to give Azul begonias? She did refer to herself as a fae historian, but he assumed she did so jokingly.

“If you didn’t know then I’ll take it back,” Azul’s voice shook a bit as she spoke, and although she smiled, Riddle could see the faint traces of heartbreak in her eyes as she tossed her gaze to the side. “I’ll go tell my father to rescind our proposal.”

Azul attempted to turn back towards the door behind her, but Riddle’s continued grip on her shoulders stopped her. She looked down at him curiously and observed as he blinked rapidly. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he attempted to think of what to say.

To say this relationship was moving more quickly than he had anticipated was like asking for a coin to throw into a wishing well and receiving an entire sack of them, and it left Riddle quite conflicted on what his next move should be.

“I’ll... consider it,” Riddle concluded after debating with himself for a moment. “The engagement I mean. I just... want to get to know you a bit before then.”

“I’ll eagerly await your response then.” Azul’s gentle smile returned as she took his hands in hers and intertwined their fingers. “Shall we go back?”

Riddle nodded and opened the door, leading the faery back to the living room.

“I-I’m sorry, I think you might have accidentally added a few extra zeros,” Riddle heard his mother speak as they arrived.

“No, it’s correct,” Azul’s father calmly stated. “That’s the amount we’ve set aside for my daughter’s dowry.”

As they sat down again, Riddle looked to his mother and was met with an intense gaze that all but screamed, “Please marry this girl.”

#azul #my oc #my writing #marsella #r0setarts

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sazorak · 4 years ago

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Every Game I Played in 2020, Ranked

2020. Boy, what a garbo year huh? Didn't actually play that many games this year all-in-all. Happens! My backlog is getting pretty big, but I just find it hard to focus on games when I could be working on something. Or put off working on something, as it may happen to be at times.

My arbitrary decision from years ago to only attach a numbered ranking to same-year releases is getting increasingly silly, especially given my propensity to wait on playing games until I’m in the right mood, but whatever. That order matters than the dumb numerical numbering anyway.

2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019

Later Alligator – 2019 – Steam – ★★

The style of this game is very cute, and the jokes are funny enough. But… ok, look, I’m not one to be precious about what is or isn’t a game. But this really isn’t a game. It’s a series of disconnected, unrelated challenges clipped from Atari Free Mini Game Collection 100, wrapped in a very non-interactive adventure-game. It’s cute, it’s kind of sweet, but it’s dull. Dull dull dull. There’s a pointless, mandatory sliding block puzzle early on that infuriated me by its mere existence. Them giving the ability to skip it because “wow you’re bad at this huh”, which, while accurate, also just sold the whole point meaningless of the “““interactive experience”””.

Also: when a huge part of your game is WOW WE ANIMATED EVERYONE REALLY GOOD, text boxes that reveal word-by-word, far away from the animations that occur when said characters talk? Kind of stinks!

8. Carrion – 2020 – Steam – ★★

What Carrion does well— the whole “You’re controlling The Thing and just rippin’ people apart!” shtick— is really neat. They made that bootleg The Thing animate real-ass good.

The actual game as a whole though? Kind of garbage. Imagine a Metroidvania with zero actual exploration, where every opportunity you have to venture off the path instead results in immediate railroading with constant, utterly inexplicable one-way pipes. It’s not that it’s linear, it’s that it actively slaps you when you attempt to explore. It’s very frustrating! Add the fact that the tentacle-monster-shtick makes challenging to actually, y’know, move around and control all your bits… the only reason I finished the game was due to foreknowledge of its extreme brevity.

I think if the game were more open and less obsessed with constantly handing out upgrades, as well as having less of a focus on pure combat, I think I’d have enjoyed it more.

SD Gundam G Generation Cross Rays – 2019 – Steam – ★★

It is well documented at this point that I am both an active Gundam fan, and as well as an on-again-off-again tactical RPG aficionado. A SD Gundam game appearing on Steam with a good English translation and localization is… exciting, to say the least. That said, I have never had much context for this game series beyond the basic facts that the combat tended to be pretty well animated CG, and that it’s vaguely similar to Super Robot Wars. Turns out… it’s really different from SRW? I dunno how the rest of the series fairs, but Cross Rays is weird as hell.

For one, there’s zero tutorialization at all. None. Almost all of what I’m going to explain here is me figuring stuff out by trial and error, or by reading junk online. Gundam is insanely popular, you’d think they’d be interested in explaining how it all works, but… nope. Even Super Robot Wars has multi-level introductory bits for new folks to show them the rope these days.

So: Cross Rays is a tactical RPG where you can playthrough the storyline of various Gundam AUs. You can play through them in any order. These playthroughs are fairly literal translations of the stories. You take control of the lead mecha from those series, fight enemy mobile suits that show up in SRW-like tactical RPG combat, until all reinforcements cease. Pretty straight forward. There are occasionally mission variants like “prevent enemies from reaching X” or “prevent enemies from destroying Y”, but even those can be just reduced to “kill everything very quickly please.”

But here’s the thing: while there is a story progression, the characters in the story itself actually have no character progression. These characters and mecha are actually considered guests, despite it being ostensibly their story. Instead, you are able to field “permanent” mecha and pilots of your own choosing, which do have progressions. There is no plot justification for this or anything like it. The game does not recognize that it’s weird that during Iron-Blooded Orphans intro where nobody knows what a Gundam even is, you can have 25 Gundams show up at once and just fire lasers at everything. That’s because this game is actually about repeatedly grinding the same set of missions over and over.

Pilots are recruited by completing certain in-mission requirements. Mecha are acquired by either by getting enough kills with the progression-less “guest” mecha, combining mecha you already have gashopon-style, completing certain quests, or by leveling up mecha and then “evolving them”. This is the actual core of the game.

SD Gundam G Generation Cross Rays is basically Disgaea, it turns out? You’re grinding story missions at various difficulty levels in order to complete missions, try to recruit specific pilots, equip them with stats and levels to make them stronger, and then hitting mecha together in a sort of quasi-SMT fusion system until you get all the powerful mobile suits you desire.

The combat itself is kind of… bland? There’s a lot of systems, but they mostly seem in service of making an already easy game easier, or burning through tedium. There are four different difficulty modes, because there’s not actually that many different missions you can play through. The expectation is you’ll just work your way through every story beat while ramping the difficulty up over time to where the “guest” mecha would not be able to handle on their own. In fact, letting the story mecha act out the story beats is actually bad after a point, unless you’re still trying to get those lead mobile suits, or if you’re trying to complete some mission requirement in order to recruit Named Wing Grunt Pilot #246.

There is something to the notion of “I want to get N and N and N and N on a team, piloting weird but powerful mobile suits, and just solo every Gundam AU in a row,” but the whole premise seems kind of against purpose. Why bother recreating story beats at all, then? It’s not like the game even acknowledges any of that going on.

If the point is that I’m supposed to be, like in other grind-heavy tactical RPGs, breaking the systems to my own end in order to proceed… why not make the missions you play challenges focused towards that? The story progression literally only exists to facilitate the mission-based unlock conditions, which makes all the energy put into making them JUST LIKE THE ANIME really damn pointless.

I like tactical RPGs, I like breaking RPG systems so as to beat hard challenges (I beat all the insanely hard extra bosses in FFXII for crying out loud), I looooove Gundam. I should like this. But I don’t really have the “god, I NEED TO FILL THIS LIST” gene that some folks have… except as an excuse to continue to engage in gameplay I enjoy. The gameplay here seems in service of the collection, rather than the way around.

7. Pokemon Sword: The Isle of Armor – 2020 – ★★★

Pokemon’s first foray into actually doing DLC is… a mixed bag. As a positive, they’ve improved the Wild Area concept I liked from the main game, and even brought back buddy Pokemon walking behind you. That’s neat. On the other hand: the actual progression in it is completable in like an hour, it doesn’t scale with you, so you’re bound to be over leveled for it, and all the raid stuff, while still conceptually neat, is just as flawed as in the base game. And so, you’re just left with even more new Pokemon to RNG grind on to continue to catch-them-all. Nah, I’m good.

Astral Chain – 2019 – Switch – ★★★

Platinum knows how to make good character action games. They’ve made a bunch of them. Bayonetta, Nier: Automata, Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance. They also know how to make some kind of mediocre character action games. Transformers: Devastation, Wonderful 101, their various shovelware character action games like Korra. Astral Chain falls somewhere in the middle, I guess?

Astral Chain has all the production of their good games. It has some stylish, cool action. It has a neat core mechanical idea, in that it’s essentially a two-character action game where you control both characters at once. It has a lot of the old mechanics from some of their best games brought in; witch-time last second dodging from Bayonetta, Nier’s shooting-and-slashing combination, the Zandatsu mechanic from Metal Gear Rising, even Wonderful 101’s multi-unit shenanigans. The setting is different, and there’s some neat world flavor all in all.

But, of all games I’ve played over the past few years, Astral Chain made me more vividly angry than any other. It’s not that it’s too hard— far from it, really, I found its combat incredibly mashy. No, the problem is that it has so many shitty mechanics slathered on that it become a chore to get to the “good bits”.

Why would you put forced stealth sequences in your character action game, especially when your movement controls are not suited for it?

Why the HELL would you put platforming sections in your character action game, constantly, especially when your stupid ghost buddy can accidentally yank you off the edge, your auto-combos can just throw you off the edge, or literally anything can knock you off the edge and make you lose life?

Why would you put so many constant excuses into the world to force me use the digital sensor in the game, that also makes it miserable to walk around while using it?

WHO THE LIVING FUCK THINKS THESE SHITTY BOX BALANCING MINI-GAMES ARE FUN???

These games are supposed to encourage me to perfect everything, right? Why keep putting fucking fights you need to complete in order to get an S rank behind backtracking, or Legions I don’t have yet? That isn’t adding replayability, that’s just wasting my time. There are even in-level missions that have fail conditions that you never even know about. Surprise!!! A lot of them involve chasing after guys and catching them with your chain, which is really obnoxious to do!!!! SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The story is just Bad Evangelion, straight up. Every story beat from Evangelion is here, executed worse. They also make your character have a twin just so they can have a character who can talk and feel emotions, because your boring-ass protagonist is stuck being an emotionless audience cipher. Cool!!!

Tetris Effect – 2018 – Origin – ★★★

It’s drugs Tetris. I personally don’t use, or have synesthesia for that matter. I imagine this game is better if you do. It’s an enjoyable enough experience but it feels incredibly slight for what I was expecting from it, or even compared to something like Lumines, which has tons of replayability by way of its difficulty. Tetris just isn’t that hard, unless you’re forcing yourself to do weird shit to get points. I WILL NEVER LEARN HOW TO T-SPIN. Never.

Castlevania Anniversary Collection – 2019 – Steam – ★★★

Kind of an unremarkable Castlevania collection. Neat that it has an official translation of Kid Dracula in there, but also… look, I prefer Metroidvania Castlevanias, OK?

6. Spelunky 2 – 2020 – Steam – ★★★

I’m not entirely sure why this doesn’t click for me where Spelunky 1 did. More annoying intro levels? Too many fiddly requirements for different ending-progression? Gameplay additions that just make things more annoying? Spelunky 1 was hard, but there was a kind straight-forwardness to it, even with its weird secrets, that made it much easier to grok and continue banging your head against. I’m just not having as much fun with this. Difficulty should be challenging, not a hassle.

5. Stellaris: Federations – 2020 – Steam – ★★★

This is the year that Stellaris just broke for me.

Federations itself is a good DLC; it adds some really interesting mechanics tied to various types of multi-national unions (the titular federations, as well as the Space UN), as well as the addition of unique “origins” that allow you to further specialize your gameplay. The origins in particular are a great addition that allows more specialization and roleplay.

I’m just tired of the sheer amount of busywork Stellaris forces you to do. Every DLC adds more junk you need to keep an eye on, and the fact that the AI doesn’t even bother with it (compensating with copious economy boosts in order to keep up) makes the whole thing frustrating. It’s like playing fetch with yourself; you just get tired of chasing after your own ball after a point.

I have to wonder if they’re pivoting towards a notional Stellaris 2 at this point? Might not be a bad idea for them, though it is weird with all they talked up adding more origins when Federations came out.

4. GranBlue Fantasy Versus – 2020 – Steam – ★★★★

This is probably the fighting game I got most into over the past few years. There’s just this nice, almost Street Fighter-esque ease of execution to the controls, and that Arc Systems Works 3D-as-2D style continues to just do work. I don’t give a single shit about GranBlue Fantasy (frankly, I think I’d enjoy this game more if it wasn’t attached to a property) but the characters are fun enough to play and look at.

The big problem here is two things: no crossplay, and no rollback netcode. In the span of a month, this game became a total ghost town on PC, and it doesn’t sound like PS4 faired that much better.

Ring Fit Adventure – 2019 – Switch – ★★★★

I’ve fallen on-and-off this game all year. At its heart: it works, it’s a fun exercise game. I don’t think it really feels like a “game” (in the sense that I’m not really coming to it for riveting gameplay or anything) as much as just a guided exercise experience, but… that’s fine? The in-game story is kind of flat, but funny in the fact of it existing at all. Buff Nicol Bolas and all.

XCOM 2: War of the Chosen – 2017 – Steam – ★★★★

XCOM2: War of the Chosen is a great answer to what XCOM2 struggled with. As I discussed back in 2016 (Jesus Christ), XCOM2 tried to push against player’s worst instincts by incentivizing them to keep being aggressive through a whole bunch of timers— which, kind of just weren’t fun given how much accidentally walking into an ambush could “ruin” dozens of hours of play. War of the Chosen dials that back in some intelligent ways, by instead making the encounter designs themselves, as well as much more grab-and-bail mission types, encourage players to push ahead instead. Smart!

The addition of the Chosen makes the game feel more alive, and they really do make missions harder— particularly early on. But they’ve somehow accidentally fell into the hole, where XCOM just… isn’t that hard? Early on it’s challenging, particularly with the resource restrictions and all. But they keep giving you more and more options (that aren’t especially meaningful choices) that make your team more and more powerful, without increasing the strength of the enemy as time goes on. By the five-hour mark, you basically know if you’re going to steam roll the game or not.

The amount of additional character and variety in the gameplay is great, I just wish it had a more challenging difficulty curve. Maybe make the meta-layer of when enemies show up more targeted to where players are at. If a player is doing well, ramp up the difficulty, if they’re struggling, pull it back a bit. I should always feel like I’m just barely keeping ahead with XCOM, not like I’m bored. And by the end of War of the Chosen, I was kind of getting bored, really. Oh well.

3. Animal Crossing: New Horizons – 2020 – Switch – ★★★★

This is probably the video game that I spent the most time with hours-wise this year. I’m not entirely sure why? It’s a nice evolution of New Leaf, in that the crafting, environment shaping, and general quality-of-life improvements made are quite nice. There’s clearly been some thought on how people play these games, and ways to make the experience less frustrating.

… and yet, they kept so much tedium in the game. Like yes, the schedule stretching is the point, I get it. As someone who for some reason decided not to play with the clock, I only just recently finished the fish, fossils, and insects for the museum. But there’s just so many weird, little things that just make it hard to keep coming back to it. It’s like… to what end? When I’ve unlocked everything, and basically seen the entirety of the item list at this point, and the holiday events all being the game meaningless collectathons…. Why? I’m not going to try completing the collection; the museum stuff is about my limit, really (and even the paintings I can probably pass on).

I guess even an idealized, digital representation of a quasi-domestic life has the spiritual emptiness of consumerism-for-consumerism sake. Thanks???

Hypnospace Outlaw – 2019 – Steam – ★★★★

I grew up on the internet of the early 00s. I had an AngelFire website, mostly consisting of shitty sprite webcomics and hosted Gundam pics. I remember when Google wasn’t really a thing and you would heavily rely on website compilation sites like the Anime Web Turnpike in order to find anything of value online. It was weird, it was wild. It was exciting!

The internet seemed so different back then. There was a ton of garbage online, but also, like… there was a sense of optimism to it. Folks were shitty, there was plenty of bad stuff online, but it felt so disconnected from the fabric of the physicality of real-life that it was at the same time a perfect escape.

I was young when I first got “online”, something like 12. I remember having this notion that the internet was going to be this great equalizer, that it had infinite potential to change how people behave and interact. Boy, huh.

Hypnospace Outlaw is essentially a splendid alternate universe GeoCities recreation, where you’re a volunteer moderator of a grouping of websites on HypnOS, an internet-analog you access while you are sleep. At the surface level, it’s mostly about poking around the weird alternate-historical version of the internet they created, full of kids feuding, bizarre historical divergences, and plenty of amazing bespoke weirdness. All of this is great; there’s an incredible amount of content that’s just great to poke at, listen to, and explore.

Below the surface, there’s also a rolling plotline about the ethics of this industry-owned platform, those who run it, and the way corporations handle new technology, new platforms, and emerging digital societies. There’s a late game turn that’s pretty damn affecting. And as someone who has moderator his share of internet forums in his time, trying to balance ‘do it for the community’ and what your ostensible ‘bosses’ require of you, it was kind of a weird throwback in more ways than one.

Minecraft – 2011 – PC – ★★★★★

Turns out, Minecraft is really as good still who knew??? Started playing a bunch more of it this year due to Giant Bomb deciding to do so, and yeah: still good!

2. Hades – 2020 – Steam – ★★★★★

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again— Supergiant makes damn good games. I’d been holding off on checking out Hades until its full release due to my tendency to burn out on games easily, and I’m glad I waited. Hades is a fantastic rogue-lite experience. The way it makes narrative progression part of the reiterative, randomized rogue-lite structure is just perfect.

It’s got all the usual Supergiant bullet points. Great characters, voice acting, narration, and music. In terms of gameplay, it’s probably their least ambitious game— playing something like a cousin to their original game, Bastion— but it’s also been polished to a mirror sheen. It just feels really damn good to play, over and over and over.

That being said, the second (final?) ending feels kind of…. Tacked on? It’s fine as a goal to go for while continuing to do the game’s relationship mechanics for additional story bits, but it ends up feeling kind of unfulfilling compared to the payoff of the first one.

1. Crusader Kings III – 2020 – Steam – ★★★★★

I never could get into Crusader Kings II. Despite my interest, the sheer mechanical heft and unintuitive interface made the game a wall that I just couldn’t get over. I’m sure if I’d dedicated myself I probably could have learned it, but… ehhhhhh.

Crusader Kings III, on the other hand, has a good tutorial, a cleaned-up UI, and a very helpful highlight and tooltip system that make it much easier to understand how to actually play the game through resources inside the game itself. And, as it turns out: I rather love this game.

I mean, conceptually it’s an easy sell, isn’t it? Historical politics is something I enjoy broadly. I liked Stellaris but wish it had more narrative, roleplaying elements. They outright say that “winning” isn’t really the point of the game. Instead, it’s more about emergent storytelling and playing with the different systems and seeing what you can do with it.

My current game has had me taking the Haesteinn dynasty from its Viking origins into England, forming a London-seated Northern Sea Empire that encompasses all of Britannia, Iceland, Holland, Norway, and Denmark. I am currently working on hegemonizing Norse religious control over enough Asatru holy sites to finally reform the religion, such that more unified feudalization can occur. To that end, my current ruler’s predecessor invaded West Francia and conquered the whole of its territory, substantially reducing the foothold of Catholicism in mainland Europe… which seems to have kicked the hornet’s nest, given the Crusade I’m going to need to contend with next time I boot up the game.

Of course, a complicating matter is that my current ruler— the Emperor of the North Sea, King of Ireland and the Danelaw, liege of the King of Denmark, was elected from the extended Haesteinn family via Thing, the Scandinavian council of his erstwhile vassals. Where the previous emperor, the one who manufactured the invasion of Francia, was quite religious and beloved for his adherence to the old ways, I discovered as I took over as his successor that he really, really is into just boning down across Europe. We’re talking constantly attempting to seduce neighboring Queens and Princesses. His vassals are not thrilled with this. They also don’t care for his propensity for torturing people to death, constantly.

I had no real say in this; attempting to stay on top of a dynasty is kind of like riding a bucking-bronco, so many things are only tenuously under your control that some weird shit can happen. This is especially true when you use the systems that make it easier to maintain the coherency of your domain. The Norse religion encouraging concubinage results in you having a lot of kids, which means there’s a lot of domain partition going on (someday, primogeniture, someday). Naturally, using Thing election reduces that, but also makes you sometimes end up having to play Emperor Stabbo-Fucko because they thought he was the best candidate at the time. Hell, I thought he was the best candidate at the time until I discovered just how many people he’d be laying with on the low. But you just have to roll with it.

The way the game forces you to play ball with character traits is great. Doing things that match with the character’s traits makes them lose stress. Doing things against their character increases stress. Too much stress can force you to make the character take up vices (which can make them suffer health or opinion maluses, as well as altering their aptitudes), or even die outright. And sometimes those vices and attitudes can be boons, given they open up opportunities for different character interactions.

Emperor Stab-and-Fuck-Kingdom is perhaps the most relaxed person alive, it turns out, because his sadism makes him really enjoy sacrificing infidels, which makes the gods happy. It also freaks the fuck out of all of his vassals, so they’re a good supplicant mix of both appreciative of my religious sentiments and also utterly terrified of my skull piles. Some especially brave vassals occasionally try to assassinate me, but my lovers keep jumping in front of the knife and saving my life mid-coitus. Iiiiiit happens! :D

The game can be incredibly fun to just watch, as it becomes emergently weird. Georgia right now is incredibly Jewish in game. I’m not sure how that happened; I guess someone made a random Jewish guy into a vassal, who somehow moved up enough in the world to make it a movement? The Byzantine princes elected a Coptic as Emperor, which over the course of the decade resulted in very accelerated balkanization as Byzantium just lost its shit. The Middle East and notional HRE haven’t really unified in a meaningful way, so I’m curious how things are going to go if/when the Mongols unify and roll-on in.

It’s one of those “Just one more thing” games that can completely devour time. I have more than a few times checked the clock mid-game to see that it’s 4AM and that I’ve totally ruined my sleep schedule in the process of play. Oooooops.

I highly recommend checking it out if you’re curious; the introductory, pre-release video series Paradox put out showing off the game does a pretty good job of showing the core gameplay loop and also how weird it can get.

#GAME OF THE YEAR #GOTY #nonfiction #thinkpiece #2020 #Crusader Kings 3 #Hades #SD Gundam #Animal Crossing

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

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Leave No One Behind Ch5: Doggy Style

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Episode Summary: Everyone at the resort feels the aftermath of the blow up from the night before…and they welcome a new member to the team.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Tiny bit of smut via flashback- like blink and you miss it (NSFW no under18s)

Episode Pairings: Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Song for Episode: Passenger Seat by Stephen Speaks

A/N: Yes we know this song isn’t an 80s one but we don’t care! It fits too well, please give it a listen. As always, we hope you enjoy!

Series Master List // WIYPT Master List

I look at her and have to smiile, as we go driving for a while, her hair blowing in the open window of my car

When Hannah woke up the following morning her eyes were swollen and sore from crying. She winced at the rays of sun that hit her mercilessly and shut her eyes again as she stretched and sat up on her bed. Her head was pounding and she didn't feel like seeing anyone that morning, she was pissed at everyone. Well not everyone. Rachel and Jake hadn't wronged her in any way since they had met. On the contrary, Rachel had been the sister she had never had, her only girl friend in a place brimming with testosterone in a country hostile to women. She’d sat with Hannah, comforting her for a while the previous night, rubbing her back and calming her down till she had stopped sobbing. And Jake had been nothing but friendly and kind with her, he had made her laugh and had showed her the wonders of Red Sea bottom

The revelation of what Andy had done had sideswiped her greatly. Maybe that out of everything was what had hurt her more and what was worse, there was nothing she could do about it no matter how angry she felt, no face to punch either. She knew she had to move forwards and that there was no point dwelling in the past because as her mama always said, You can't change the past, but you can make your future. And she was determined to follow her mother's wise words but, that said, she still was ready to kill someone along the way. Starting with Sammy and she would probably have killed Andy too if he was there. She certainly wanted to rip Max's tongue off and feed it to the fish. And then there was Ari. Ari ... well, where to even start with that?

She pushed her evil thoughts aside as she got up and pulled a pair of shorts and a top. She brushed her teeth and headed out, deciding to go for a walk before taking a shower. She strolled in the kitchen and grabbed herself a coffee, greeting Rachel good morning and blatantly ignoring Max, who was eating toast.

"Don't you forget I need you to help me with the aerobics class, Han." Rachel reminded Hannah, looking between her and Max.

"Sure. I'll be back on time." Hannah said as she took her mug and headed off down the shore.

She walked mindlessly for five minutes, enjoying the early morning sea breeze and the calming feeling of the beach sand under her feet and between her toes. The walk took her to her favourite spot just where the shore curved round the bay. It was a huge crop of rocks which were ideal for sitting in between and hiding. It was almost like a little cave, her cave, with two large rocks either side and a flat one which formed a sort of roof. It reminded her of a dolmen, ideal for sitting under and cleansing one's mind and spirit.

She was lost in her thoughts, dwelling on how she was determined to take the reins of her own life from that moment on and fuck the world, as her eyes scanned the ocean in front of her. Then, suddenly, something cold, then warm and wet nudged her hand. She gave a little yell and jumped as she thought it had been a jellyfish. But she didn't feel any itching or irritation, so she then thought it must have been some sort of fish or eel, something that was washed up.

Not that it was a more comforting thought.

Hannah looked around and saw a small, hairless dog cowering in the inner corner of the cave. Or at least it looked like a dog. She approached the animal cautiously to verify it was indeed a dog and not some other random form of life and was pleased to see her initial identification was correct.

"Hey puppy." she said gently, holding her hand out.

The dog was tentative. He looked at her hand but didn't move a muscle so she stayed still allowing him time to move and sniff her and then his tail gave a small wag and she reached out to scratch his ear. The dog then wagged his tail a little stronger.

"I like you too, buddy." Hannah said softly, smiling at him.

At the sound of her voice the dog came nearer and put his paws on her legs, wagging his tail before he sat down close next to her, his head resting against her legs. She noticed then the dog needed a bit of patching up as he had a few wounds over its back. He must have been a stray dog living in the cave, she thought, and she had intruded his safe place.

She drank her coffee in silence with the dog beside her. Then she got up and headed to the resort in order to take a shower and help Rachel with the damned aerobics class, but when she looked down she realised the dog had followed her instead of staying behind his home. Her mind travelled then to Cocoa, the dog they had as a kid. A chocolate Labrador who used to growl at Sammy whenever he was teasing her or messed with her dolls. Cocoa used to follow her all over, he was like her shadow and had never let her down. Of course he hadn't because dogs are better than people. They're loyal, which is not something many people at the resort could claim.

And that was that, she was keeping the dog. She made up her mind there and then. This dog had appeared when she most needed something to rely on and maybe he needed her too.

When Hannah entered the resort, followed by the dog, everyone was sat on a table at the patio, before the guests awoke fully and the busy hours of the day began.

"Oh my God! Whose dog is this? Hi fella?" Rachel said, immediately spotting the dog.

"Suppose he’s mine now." Hannah shrugged as she took a seat next to Jake and left the coffee mug on the table. "Found him on the beach...or he found me."

"We're not keeping a dog...are you keeping him? Seriously?" Sammy asked, raising her voice with every question.

Hannah merely glared at him, she didn't say a word. She turned to Rachel instead before saying "I think I might keep him."

Simon then pottered over to Max, sitting down beside him, his ears forward, looking at his food.

"The dog wants my food." Max deadpanned.

"Give him some then." Hannah said, rolling her eyes.

Max hesitated before grabbing some beef bacon from Ari's plate and gave it to the dog.

"The dog wanted your food not mine." Ari protested, before taking a sip from his coffee.

He looked at the dog as he wolfed it down and then jumped up, paws on Max's leg, tail wagging so hard his butt was moving.

"Hey! He likes me." Max chimed.

"He is kinda cute..hey buddy..." Jake said as he gave a sharp whistle and fed him a slice of toast.

"There's some leftover chicken in the fridge..." Rachel offered, seeing as the dog would guzzle all their breakfast if they let him.

"Oh, cool, he's hungry...poor thing..." Hannah said standing up.

She slapped her leg and the dog followed her unconditionally.

Once she was gone Sammy started his usual campaign against anything new.

"She can't keep him." he groaned.

"She's so keeping it." Jake snorted.

Ari who was now smoking a cigarette, his left arm leaning on the chair's back, asked "Why can't he stay?"

"He reminds me of Ethan...no hair" Max joked, with his signature grin. Rachel slapped him on the back of his head and everyone bar Sammy snorted.

"Seriously, Ari, she can't keep it. We're on a mission." Sammy tried again.

"You fucking tell her then..." Ari growled, not bothering to look at him.

"Chill out, it's only a dog. And what's wrong with you two?" Jake asked, looking between Sammy and Ari. "You're throwing daggers at each other." He then turned to Max "And you, you're being weird too."

Ari decided then he had had enough and stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray. He too was pissed at Sammy and Max and wasn't in the mood to answer any of Jake's questions whatsoever. "I'm going for a run." he said as he got up.

"Yeah. Get the fuck out of here..." Sammy snarled.

Ari stopped on his tracks and glared at him "I'm going now before I punch YOU in the jaw...and you wanna upset your sister again, be my guest, because I can't and I won't."

"Yeah, you've never been able to say no to her have you, Ari?" Sammy raised his voice again.

"Ok, what have I missed?" Jake asked, his eyes darting between Sammy, Max and Rachel.

Ari just shot Sammy another glare, more like a death stare, thinking how he would love to drag him over the table and smash his face in. But he simply left, his hands turning into fists.

"Just leave it" Max whispered, leaning over Jake.

The first guests started appearing in the dining room just as Rachel switched seamlessly into Angela, welcoming them. Max, Jake and Sammy stood up and cleared the table they had been having breakfast at. Hannah came back, the dog on her tail after having been fed and patched up, and greeted the guests in a perfect Spanish accent.

"Buenos días" she said to the woman she had spoken Spanish to the day before, and then ignored everyone and headed to her hut.

Just as she was about to reach her door she bumped into Ari as he emerged from his in his running gear complete with Walkman.

"Sorry firefly didn't see you..." Ari apologised.

"It's ok, I was distracted..." she said softly, taking him in but not daring to look him in the eyes.

Ari was in no better position and ran his hand through his hair struggling for words while she checked him out. And suddenly the dog jumped up at him.

"Hey pal..." Ari kneeled down to gently pat the puppy's head and scratch him behind his ears.

"Think he likes you." Hannah said, giving him a small smile.

Ari looked up, and saw Hannah was smiling, and he'd be damned if it wasn't a genuine smile. His eyes locked on hers for a second before he looked back at the dog who was now licking his face.

"Where did you find him?" he asked softly.

"My rocks." she said, pointing to the curve of the bay. Ari squinted his eyes and then he spotted the place she was pointing out. "I think I might call him Simon."

Ari laughed at the random name. "Simon?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Hannah shrugged and just then he let out a snort as he realised "Still hoping Simon Le Bon is gonna come rescue you?"

"Well if you can't have Simon Le Bon, Simon Le Bone will do. What do you think, buddy?" Hannah cooed, bending to give him scratches.

"A substitute for the real thing?" Ari quipped. He sensed Hannah was in good spirits and decided it was worth giving a shot.

"Well, we don't always get what we want." she replied, looking up back at him.

Ari swallowed, remembering the dream he had had the other night and her saying those exact words to him on her 21st. His face then fell and though he tried to collect himself quickly Hannah noticed.

"What's wrong?" she asked, studying him.

"Nothing Firefly, just....I'm sorry." he answered quietly.

"Yeah, you said." she said as she looked down at the dog who was now rolling on the sand. She looked back at Ari and could see the pain was still in his eyes even though he had rearranged his face. She swallowed before admitting "I'm sorry too, Lobo."

"What for?" he frowned. Now, that was a surprise.

"Being so angry at you...I know you're hurting too." she said looking into his eyes, just to check they were still in turmoil.

Ari couldn't find the words, he didn't think he deserved her forgiveness. He knew he didn't. The only thing he could come up with was looking at her shrugging before stepping forward and in an automatic response, hugging her. He didn't even think about the possibility of her rejecting his touch, even his nearness. But, surprisingly, she rested her head against his chest as his hands gently rubbed at her back and he decided in a bold movement to kiss her head and whisper into her hair "I'm so sorry, Han."

"I know." she whispered back.

They stood there until a moment later she pulled back and wiped her eyes "Look I have to help Rachel with the tourists. Can you keep an eye on Simon?"

"So we're actually calling him that?" Ari snorted.

"We?" Hannah asked, arching her eyebrow.

Ari simply smiled "I've got you on this, I like him."

"Let me guess, the others want him to go." Hannah asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, just Sammy." Ari confessed. But just as the words left her mouth he internally face palmed himself realising he may have just made it worse between the siblings.

"Well Sammy can jump. I'm done letting him take things from me." she said, her eyes burning with determination.

Ari saw her open her mouth to say something, but she shut it almost instantly as she apparently had changed her mind and after a few seconds she spoke again "I don't think there's anything on this afternoon, do you wanna take me into Port Sudan? Simon's gonna need some stuff if he is staying, I was gonna go diving but..."

Ari's mind went directly to Jake and his diving experience the previous day and blurted out "No!" and noticed Hannah's surprised expression before correcting himself "I mean, yeah, I'll take you...sure."

"Thanks, so you're ok watching him whilst I help Rachel?" she checked.

Ari looked at the dog who glanced up at him, tongue lolling out before replying "Sure Firefly."

****

Ari was in the dining area, reading the American paper they got once a week if they were lucky, with Simon led by his feet when Sammy walked in.

"Oh fuck me..." he said, stopping when he spotted the dog.

Ari looked at him, deciding if it was worth trying to speak to him or if he was actually in the mood to do so when Simon sat up and growled at Sammy.

"Oh look at that..." Ari grinned "He doesn't like you either."

"Fuck you Ari..." Sammy rolled his eyes "She convinced you, didn't she?"

"The dog stays, Sammy." Ari said sternly, his eyes on the newspaper.

"She did." Sammy said, shaking his head as he scoffed.

"Like I said, the dog stays." Ari looked at him again. "End of discussion."

"You're an idiot." Sammy spat

"It's just a dog Sammy." Ari sighed "What's the issue?"

"You really can't say no to her can you?" Sammy asked as a response to Ari's question.

"Again Sammy?" Ari groaned as Sammy glared at him.

"Don't even think of getting near her again Ari." Sammy threatened him.

"Fuck off Sammy." Ari bit back feeling his temper fray as he stood up and stormed out of the dining area, pushing past Sammy and headed towards the beach, Simon following him.

He nearly missed Max who was about to walk in the door and moved out of the way of Ari and looked at Sammy puzzled before saying "Wow, everyone loves you today, don't they?"

"Oh shut up Max." Sammy rolled his eyes and walked into the resort.

"Yeah, that's what I should have done." he muttered. He looked at Ari who was now walking down towards the ocean and turned to follow him.

"Ari..." he called, "Wait up buddy."

Ari stopped and turned and saw Simon ran towards Max as he stood with his hands on his hips, waiting for the man to reach his side.

"Yeah, I ain't got no food now pal...you ate it all."

Ari called Simon by his name to stop bothering Max and Max looked at him "Simon? Let me guess, Duran Duran..."

"You know Hannah." Ari snorted "Simon Le Bone, meet Max...or Irving...he's Maltese..."

"Le Bone?" Max laughed "Good call..."

"Yeah I thought so too." Ari smiled.

"Look, Ari.I want to apologise. I swear when I told Andy well, I didn't think he would go and do that..." Max spoke, looking at him shyly.

"Well, he did." Ari shrugged. "But it doesn't matter anymore."

"Doesn't it?" Max asked. Not believing for a moment his leader was going to let him get away with it. But Ari just sighed. "I know you Ari, and I know Hannah too." Max insisted.

"Well, in that case why don't you tell me if it matters or not then Max?" Ari asked, a little tetchy.

"You know it does Ari." Max shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry man." he added before leaving.

Ari breathed out and looked down at Simon before muttering "Everyone's fuckin' sorry... Well, except Sammy that is."

Simon just looked at him. The dog hadn't got a clue of what was going on so he happily headed down to the ocean, sticking his paws in the water.

*****

Ari drove the truck down the main road heading towards Port Sudan. Neither of them were talking much, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Both of them were glad to get away from the atmosphere that had descended on the Red Sea Diving resort, even if they were partially responsible for it despite that not being totally their fault.

Hannah was simply looking out of the window, every so often taking something in, an interesting landmark, an animal, whatever it was they passed by. Her passenger side window was opening, causing the strands of hair that had fallen loose from her bun to blow around her face. Ari stole a glance at her, taking in her profile, smiling softly to himself thinking it was probably a good job her eyes were covered by her shades because he really should be focussed on the road…

“Why are you looking at me Ari?” Hannah questioned as she turned to face him. He hastily averted his attention to the road as he gave her a sheepish smile.

"Was just thinking, it’s been a while since we've been alone in a car." he said, his elbow leaning on the door frame.

"Yeah well this ain’t gonna end the same way as the last time that happened." she said taking a deep breath as she looked back out of the window.

"What do you mean?" Ari frowned.

She turned to look at him "You forgotten that night after the McDonalds drive through?"

Oh…no, he hadn’t forgotten...just not thought about it for a while. But now he was.

Ari tossed the scrunched up cheeseburger wrapper into the paper bag as Hannah did the same, before he turned and dropped the trash into the rear foot well of his chevvy behind his seat. Hannah reached over for her coke, taking a large drink as she glanced out of the window.

“So tell me, mi Lobo…did you park this far away from everyone else for a reason?” she asked, turning to him.

“Firefly, I resent that accusation…” he said, shifting slightly so he was side on in his seat, facing her, one arm sneaking round the back of her headrest.

“You’re so full of shit…” she looked at him, and he arched an eyebrow.

“Ok, you got me…” he said, his other hand falling to her thigh just above where her long, over-knee socks finished “I just wanted to make sure no one dented the car…” She let out a laugh and he grinned, leaning over and pressing his lips to hers, his hand sliding up over her skin and under the hem of her tartan mini skirt.

“Been driving me crazy sat in the theatre next to you, wearing this…” he muttered into her mouth, as his fingers reached the top of her thighs. She let out a soft moan as she shifted slightly, his hand gently skating over her panty clad core. “I wasn’t concentrating much on the movie.”

“Kinda the point…” she whispered, his eyes locking onto hers.

“You know you give off this sweet, little innocent girl vibe when really you’re nothing but fucking minx…” he mumbled, his lips crashing onto hers as his fingers moved her underwear to one side and he found her hot and wet and so fucking ready. It hadn’t taken him long, as his fingers coaxed her gently he nipped at her neck, lavishing her with the praise and soft dirty talk she loved and just as she’d let out a soft cry of his name and arched her back as she came, wrapping her hand around his wrist, there was a sharp banging on the window which startled them both enough for Ari to jerk upwards, cracking his head on the roof of his car.

“Fuck!” he said, massaging his head before he moved as Hannah straightened her clothing and he wound his window down.

“Officer…” he greeted the Cop who looked at him, then to Hannah, then to the back of the car and Ari glanced around, spotting for the first time that the windows had misted up. “We were errr…” “I know exactly what you were doing…” The officer looked at him “Take it home kids.”

“Kids…” Ari scoffed, watching him go. “I’m twenty-fucking-eight!”

Hannah laughed, “Must be your boyish good looks Lobo…”

“I’m not a boy, as well you know Firefly…” he shot her a look as he readjusted his pants and turned on the ignition to the car.

“Awww, would it make you feel better if I stroked your ego and told you that you were all man?” “You can stroke somethin’…” he quipped, shooting her a dirty grin as he pulled out of the parking lot and she laughed, and turned those blue eyes on him as they flashed in the dim street lighting.

“Well take me home and I will.” Yeah, he remembered that very well. And thanks to that memory, his not so little problem from yesterday morning was well on it’s way to reappearing.

"Well, I imagine with the sand and the dust around the place, getting the windows as steamy as we did then would be a challenge." he said, clearing his throat.

Hannah gave a laugh "We nearly got arrested.”

“Why break the habit of a lifetime, sweetheart?” he laughed and Hannah shook her head as her chuckles subsided and she once more fell silent.

Ari glanced at her again before he turned his eyes back to the road. It wasn’t long after that, 2 nights in fact, that following the Surgery Inauguration Party Sammy had turned up on his doorstep and punched him in the jaw, warning him off. Lost in his own thought, he nearly missed the almost whisper from Hannah a little while later when she spoke again.

"Thank you."

Ari frowned "What for firefly?"

"For backing me up with Simon." she turned to look at him.

“Like, shall I count the amount of times you backed me up since we came here?"

"I backed you up those times Lobo because you were right." she shrugged.

"Yeah, well and so were you about Simon." he said simply, his eyes back on the road.

"Well thanks anyway..."

"You're welcome Han. Besides, I kinda like him." he said, smiling at her.

At that she gave a snort "Sammy doesn't."

Ari rubbed at his eye, “Sammy doesn't like anyone, well not at the moment."

She let out a cheeky laugh, before she grinned and Ari looked at her again "That's part of the reason I wanted to keep him." she said, drawing a loud laugh from him. .

****

Jake entered the reception area in his diving gear and was about to say something but shut it closed when he realised only Rachel and Jake were there sorting some schedule for the following day.

"Where the hell is Hannah?" he asked them, his hands on his hips.

"She went with Ari to Port Sudan." Rachel deadpanned without taking her eyes from the folder.

"What the fuck?” Jake cursed, making both Rachel and Max lift their eyes to look at him. "I was gonna take her diving..."

Not missing the whiney tone to his voice, Max vaulted over the reception counter and put an arm round Jake "Come on man, I'll tell you a story..."

They walked towards the seafront part of the resort, the dog behind them. Hannah had instructed Max to babysit Simon while she was away. In fact her exact words had been to take care of her puppy and keep it as far away from Sammy as possible. As long as he didn't turn his whiney bitch mode on, in which case Max was fully allowed to unleash the dog on Sammy having been told by Ari about his little growling incident before.

Max explained to Jake everything he needed to know about the big fuck up that had taken place nearly nine years before and which was still altering their lives. Jake listened carefully, slack-jawed as he ran a hand over his face from time to time.

"Whoaa, talk about a fucked up story." was all Jake could muster as realisation of what had been happening in front of his own eyes hit him. "So, Ari and Hanna..." he trailed and Max nodded in reply.

Then they abruptly stopped talking realizing Simon was gone. They looked around, turning and walking frantically, searching for the dog but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Cracker is so gonna kill us…” Max groaned as they ran back to the resort. "Have any of you seen the dog? We can't find him." he asked, bending over his body and panting as they emerged into the reception area.

"What?" Rachel shrieked.

"We got distracted for a minute and bam, he gone. We lost him." Jake explained as he tried to steady his breathing.

"What the fuck do you mean you lost him?" Rachel asked fuming. "Find him. Now!"

"Yeah, you better do it fast before mama bear comes back and rips your head off." Sammy snorted. He would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying the show Dumb and Dumber were putting on.

"Yeah mama bear and wolf daddy." Max laughed.

Both Sammy and Jake glared at Max.

"Let's have a look around the buildings." Jake said, still pissed at Max's comment. He hadn't forgotten the fact that Hannah had bailed on him. That said, he was still quite fond of his head so didn’t want to give her any excuse to be pissed at him, so together they headed out looking for the dog at the front side of the resort but there wasn't any trace of him there either.

"You know it's a stray..." Jake sighed "He could have just fucked off home..."

"Yeah, I think he did...look" Max said, pointing to Simon who was stood outside Hannah's hut just like he was chilling. He looked at them, his ears pricking up, almost in a greeting.

Yo guys.

"Fucking dog." Jake hissed.

They tried calling him to them, both relieved, but the dog showed no intention of moving from his spot. He just observed the two sweaty men looking at him with squinting eyes and their hands on their hips.

"If he's waiting for Hannah, he won't move." Jake said. "Unless..." and he turned to look at Max with a hopeful grin.

So Max rushed to the kitchen to fetch some food for the dog and quickly came back, showing it to him. Simon then got up and headed over to Max wagging his tail.

"Like, if this is Hannah and Ari's kid..." Jake snorted "Does this make Sammy his uncle?" he asked as Max fed the dog.

"Grumpy uncle..." Max snorted, looking at Jake.

"Then you must be food uncle..." Jake offered and Max grinned satisfied with his title. “What am I?”

“Shit shirt uncle?” Max quipped, as Jake shot him a look before the three of them headed back to the main building.

****

Ari had to hand it to Hannah, she hadn’t lost a shred of that tenacity she’d possessed years ago. She was currently stood in a little pet shop on the high street describing Simon to the man behind the counter. The guy spoke really bad English, but had given a yell to someone who had wandered through from the back, who was now attempting to translate.

“No, no hair…” Hannah was saying “Grey, with pink patches…big ears.” “Ahhh…nem, nem!” The man said, and he hurried out from behind the counter and gestured for Hannah to follow him. Ari watched as she did, and he pulled a book from one of the shelves and thumbed through until he found the page.

“Yeah!” Hannah grinned, giving him a thumbs up “Sukran…” The man beamed and nodded, leaving her with the book whilst he went to ring up the total for the dog bowls, the basket bed, food, collar and leash Hannah had picked out.

“You find him?” Ari asked.

“Yup.” she said, as he looked over her shoulder at the page. “He’s an Abyssinian Sand Terrier, also known as an African Hairless dog…”

“Sand Terrier is much better.” Ari said, “Makes him sound much more mysterious…”

“Says here they are fearless, loyal and willing to please…” Hannah mused.

“Sounds like someone I know.” Ari quipped and Hannah looked at him, rolling her eyes with a small smile on her face as she closed the book on Dog Breeds and placed it back on the shelf. She moved to the counter and pulled out her purse but Ari gently placed his hand on hers and shook his head.

“I’ll get it…” “Ari, no,it’s…” “I’m gonna ring it through on expenses.” Ari grinned “He’s a guest after all…” She looked at him before she shrugged “Good luck explaining that to Ethan.” “I think Ethan would like him, like Max said, they both have the same amount of hair.” Hannah laughed and Ari grinned and he paid the man, giving him a tip as a thanks for his help before they gathered the things and headed back to the car. They placed the stuff in the back and Hannah went to the passenger side to climb in, but Ari stopped her when he spoke.

“Whilst we’re here, why don’t we head to the Souk and then the market? I’m not in any particular rush to get back…that is unless you want to?” “No, a walk sounds good.” She smiled, her hands shifting to the scarf that was round her head, making sure it was adjusted properly.

Together they made their way through the relatively busy dusty street and found themselves in a large market place, which led in turn to smaller alleys off which the found the various Souks and Bazars. Ari allowed Hannah to direct, as they spent a bit of time looking at the clothing and the jewellery, a particular piece caught Ari’s attention due to the shape but before he could say anything Hannah’s focus was on a perfume stall which seemed like you could basically mix your own. After smelling a few components, some nice, some really not, they wandered back to the market place and there they spent a little more time at the food stalls. It was fun, they walked around, taking the free samples of the local breads, cheeses, meats and fruits they were offered along with pastries and sauces and dips…and once they’d decided what they liked at Ari’s suggestion they picked up a selection as a treat for the team later when they settled down for their usual end of day chat and drinks. Ari felt encouraged when Hannah agreed, that she was amenable to actually being round a table with Max and Sammy gain gave him hope that she was feeling a little less hostile towards the pair of them.

On their way back they passed a local café and Hannah stopped and asked Ari if they could grab a drink. Given that they’d been in the heat and sun most of the afternoon he conceded it was probably a good idea and they settled at a table, Ari lighting up a cigarette as they drank some form of sweet, iced tea. Hannah made some joke about how Max would be pissed about missing out on free food samples and Ari grinned, agreeing. For the most part, however, he was silent, simply letter her talk as he was happy she was relaxing and the Firefly he knew was coming back to him. It wasn’t just that though, his mind was clouding a little as she was stirring deep feelings, emotions he had been trying to ignore since she admitted the other night that she had loved him.

It had shocked him, it truly had. As it was something that neither of them had ever said to one another, they’d never admitted to the feelings being that strong.

And now he was kicking himself for not doing so when he had the chance.

Mind you, to do so he would have had to have admitted it to himself and at the time he hadn’t. The old adage of not knowing what you had till it was gone had never been more apt.

“We should probably go if we want to get back to help with Dinner Service” Hannah said softly, glancing at her watch “Damned it…is that the right time?”

She held her wrist out and Ari then glanced at his and shook his head “No, it’s short by 30 minutes…”

She groaned “I only set it again this morning. Think it’s on its way out. Mind you, what do you expect when it only costs you 5 bucks huh?” “So it’s not a real Tag?” Ari raised an eyebrow, teasing and she gave him a look of mock indignance.

“That is a genuine fake I’ll have you know, Lobo.” she snorted before she sighed “I’ll get one, one day.”

Ari tossed down some money, thanked the guy who had served them and they headed back to the truck. As they made their way back, the sun was starting to dip, and with it Hannah’s mood as the closer they got to the Resort, the more withdrawn she started to get again.

"Do you regret it?" she suddenly blurted out.

"What?" he frowned.

"Regret being with me all those years ago?"

“Hannah…” he sighed “Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Raking over it all…” “Because I don’t understand Ari.” She looked at him, “Before on the beach, when you said you were sorry…I just wonder sometimes if...” she trailed off, “It doesn’t matter, forget it.” “It clearly does matter.” Ari said, his voice carrying a level of frustration. “Spit it out.” “If I’d have told you I loved you, back then, would it have made a difference? Would you have fought harder?”

Ari took a deep breath. "Han I hate the way we ended, I really do...and it tears me apart thinking about why it happened and there's a part of me that will never forgive Sammy for what he did, but he did it because he thought he was protecting you, and I know that doesn’t make it ok..." He cut her protests off before she could launch into another rant about her brother, continuing as he attempted to get his point across. “But I knew he was right. I wasn’t good for you. I was a selfish asshole, still am according to you remember?”

“I shouldn’t’ have said that…” she dropped her gaze to her hands which were clasped in her lap.

“But you’re right.” he shrugged “So I didn’t fight because I believed what Sammy was saying, I still do in some ways but do I regret anything that happened between us? No, not a damned second and I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

His words hit Hannah like a lightning bolt as she turned everything over in her mind. Over the course of less than 3 days she’d gone from believing that Ari had left because things were getting too serious for him and that he had gotten what he wanted and so cast her aside, to then believing that he had in fact been warned off by her brother and didn't fight because he didn't care enough but now she truly understood. He actually believed everything that Sammy had said. He genuinely thought he wasn’t good enough for her. So had done what in his mind was right, broken her heart to save it in the long term.

“I suppose it worked out for you in the end.” she said gently “You found Sarah, had Maya.”

Ari sighed “Yeah, and I wouldn’t change any of that in the world…but you know, you got Andy…”

He instantly knew he had said the wrong thing as her face darkened again and she looked out of the window.

"Han, don't be too angry at him..." he pressed.

"Angry? I'm fucking furious Ari.” she turned to him, tears in her eyes “I feel betrayed...like...well, my entire relationship happened because he broke us up. It’s like the whole thing was a fucking sham."

"Don't say that." Ari shaking his head "You loved him Hannah, and he did what he did for a reason. He loved you."

"Well I loved someone else back then." she wiped at her face "And he hardly knew me either at that point so he didn't have a right to do anything. It's like he saw me as some prize to be won in some fucked up competition"

“Hey, come on…” he reached out for her left hand which had fallen to her knee and he gave it a quick squeeze “I know it hurts, and I know you’re angry but everyone did what they did because they thought it was right.” “It should have been my choice though Ari.” she looked at him, shaking her head “And you all took that choice away from me whether you meant to or not.” “I know, and I’m sorry…” “I know, I know.” she said softly “And I believe you, I do…” she took a deep breath and she shook her head “Suppose you’re right…not like we can change any of it anyway, unless you’re hiding a TARDIS somewhere...” “Sorry Firefly, you’re The Doctor not me.” She looked at him, before her face creased up and she let out a huge howl of laughter.

Thankfully, the conversation took a lighter turn, Ari getting the impression that Hannah was as tired of being angry and bitter about things as he was and he hoped that she was ready to stop torturing herself over the past. He hated seeing her so upset and withdrawn.

Eventually they got to the resort and once the car had stopped, Hannah climbed out and grinned as Simon came trotting over to greet them, his tail wagging furiously. As Hannah stooped to greet him, Ari was pondering at how the dog seemed to actually be that bonded with her already considering she had found him only that morning, when his attention went to Sammy and Rachel who were emerging from the side entrance.

“Where the hell have you been? You've been gone for hours.”

"Hello to you too Sammy..." Ari rolled his eyes

"I didn't realise we were being timed" Hannah stood up and folded her arms. "Did I miss my curfew?" she asked sarcastically. "Ignore him." Rachel shot Sammy a look before she walked towards the truck where Hannah was now reaching into the back for the bags.

"Gladly" Hannah mumbled. Rachel took one of the bags from her, looking inside and immediately started cooing over the stuff they had bought, informing them that it looked great. Hannah started to tell her all about the fabrics and the perfumes at the souks as they walked inside, Simon mooching behind them.

Ari watched them go, ignoring Sammy and then smiling at Jake who had also emerged to help.

“Need a hand?”

“Yeah…thanks.” Ari said as Jake grabbed the bag of dog biscuits. Ari tossed the smaller pet items into the basket before he removed it from the truck, shutting the door with his hip. He nodded at Max who was leaning in the doorway eating a sandwich as he entered the resort.

“Where do you want this Firefly?” he asked. She turned to face him and placed the bag she was carrying down, fishing in her pocket.

“Can you take them to my hut?” “Sure.” She crossed towards him, placed the key in the basket he was carrying and he gave her a smile as he headed back outside and down to the hut that was 2 along from his. Unlocking the door he walked inside, placed the basket on her bed and stood up, taking a quick look around. The familiar vanilla notes he associated with her surrounded him and he simply took a deep breath before he turned to go, which was when he noticed that there was frame on her bed side table which was face down. He knew he shouldn’t look, but he couldn’t help himself and he gently picked it up. It was a photo of her and Andy in her Mama’s garden. Hannah was sat on his knee, smiling at the camera as Andy gently kissed her cheek. Fuck, she’d really, really taken what the man had done badly.

Captain fucking obvious, Levinson….

He understood where she was coming from, he really did, but she’d been happy with Andy. He had been a good guy, what he had done was selfish but he wasn’t a selfish man, not by nature…hell, he’d given his own life to save Ari’s…but as he stood there, Ari suddenly started to wonder whether there had been more to that. Had Andy felt some sort of guilt?

No, no. It had been a split, in the moment decision, one any agent would do for another. That was all.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, he replaced the photo so that it wouldn’t appear to have been moved and left, locking the door behind him and heading back to the dining area.

As usual everyone chipped in to help serve dinner to the guests, and then that was it. Their duties over for the day and they were free to do what they wanted. As the Guests started to thin out, either heading to the beach or to their huts the staff-slash-agents retreated to a table outside with a bottle of wine and the stuff Ari and Hannah had brought back. The chat was easy and it was comfortable, which Ari was thankful for. Rachel, in her full Angela role informed them they were booked now until the start of April, at which point Ari, or Guy, nodded and suggested that might be a good time to go scouting again for more diving locations…in other words, their next mission. They all nodded, and he agreed he would clear it upon his trip back to the US (Israel) to chat to their sponsors (Ethan).

“Well, before we go scouting anywhere…” Max spoke, in his Irving voice “It’s Rosa’s 30th…” There were subdued cheers around the table, and Hannah groaned.

“Don’t remind me…” she said, her accent impeccable as always.

“You know we should throw a party…” Sammy said “A proper beach one, like they do back home, in Aus…” Hannah looked at him, and then shook her head. Rachel looked at her “Oh come on!” “A party could be fun, Red.” Jake grinned at her and she sighed.

“Fine, but I am not going naked diving.” she pointed at him “Regardless of whether it’s a birthday tradition in the diving world…” “Isn’t that a 100th Dive Tradition?” Ari looked at Jake, raising an eyebrow. Jake shrugged, mischievously.

“You lying bastard!” Hannah scoffed, slapping his arm. Jake grinned and she shook her head.

“And on that note, I’m calling it a night.” he yawned “I have a double diving tour tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I should really sort some paper work too, ready for the check out tomorrow.” Rachel said, as they both stood up. Jake bid them all goodnight and Rachel headed into the resort, presumably to the office just behind the reception desk. Hannah watched as Sammy’s eyes trailed after her for a second before he too sighed and said he was heading to bed leaving Max, Hannah and Ari at the table. Hannah glanced down at Simon who sat up at the commotion, cocking his head to the side, his blue collar settled on his neck.

“Think I’ll take Simon for a little walk before bed” she rose from her seat. “Night boys.” “Good night Cracker.” Max smiled.

“Night.” Ari nodded and with that she left.

Ari watched her walk off down the sand. Simon trotting at her heels. The loose, pale yellow top she was wearing blew slightly in the breeze as she walked, barefoot and bare legged thanks to those navy blue shorts…

He turned to Max, the two of them striking up a conversation about Port Sudan, until Ari suddenly interrupted, unable to get the thought that had sprung up as Hannah walked off out of his mind.

“Think she’ll be ok?” Ari turned to Max. Max simply looked at him. “Hannah, you know, with the military being around…” Max considered Ari for a moment before he leaned forward “Why don’t you go keep an eye on her?”

“No, I don’t think she’d appreciate it.” Ari shook his head.

“She might.” Max shrugged.

Ari looked at him again, before he gave a nod and headed out. He couldn’t see Hannah, but he had a good idea where she would be, he remembered her talking about the cave she had found Simon in, just at the curve of the cove. He made his way over, exhaling cigarette smoke and smiled as he realised he was right when Simon came bounding out from behind a rock to greet him.

"Hey pal..." he said softly before he stopped at the entrance to the cave.

Hannah looked up at him, giving him a small smile as the dim light sparkled in her eyes.

"This isn't walking Firefly." Ari smiled, leaning against the rocky wall of the cave by the entrance as he looked down at her.

"I walked here didn't I?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Want me to leave you alone?" he asked, fully aware she had hidden in there for a reason. He’d got what he wanted, to know she was safe, so he was perfectly happy to let her be.

"You can sit if you want." she shrugged "But you can put that out before you step into my secret den…” He smiled and stubbed his cigarette out before he ducked into the rock cluster, sitting beside her.

“So, what you up to? Actually, no let me guess thinking..." he said and she gave a soft huff, shrugging “You know I meant what I said before, don't you ever wanna switch off your brain and just stop for a while?"

"Yup." she nodded “But it’s never that simple though is it?"

"Nothing is Simple." Ari sighed "I wish it was.

"I managed it for a bit today." Hannah looked at him. "Switching off I mean. When we were in the market and stuff...it was nice."

"Yeah, yeah it was Firefly." he agreed

She looked at him and smiled "I like that."

"You like what?”

"When you call me Firefly, not Hannah or Han."

"You'll always be Firefly to me." he shrugs "Although Hannah is your actual name, so..."

"Sorry, you mean Rosa Maria, Guy.”

Ari chuckled as did she.

"I think we needed that" he smiled.

"Needed what?”

"A smile, and a laugh...chance to be away from it all for a little while." he looked at her.

"Maybe, like I said today was nice. Tonight was nice too...things have gone a bit overboard since we came back from the mission."

"You're telling me." He agreed.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the moonlight on the water as a slight gust of wind blew in from the Ocean, ruffling Ari’s hair slightly. He felt Hannah give a little shiver besides him and he looked at her as she tucked her knees into her chest. He hesitated for a second before he passed his arm over her shoulder.

"If I was wearing a jacket I'd offer it to you..." he nodded to the goose-bumps on her arm as explanation for his display of affection, fully expecting her to push him away but she didn’t.

"This is fine." she shrugged "Thanks”

"You're saying that a lot today Firefly." he looked at her before his attention went to Simon who was digging in the sand at the mouth of the cave, his tail wagging furiously.

"Well, you know, mama always told me to give thanks when it’s due so..."

"Good advice" he nodded.

“Seriously though, thank you Ari…” she looked at him for a moment before leaning up and kissing his cheek.

He turned his head to look at her and her face was so close to his. “You’re welcome” he whispered, swallowing slightly and her eyes flickered down to his lips. It was quick, and had he blinked he would have missed it. But he didn't...and once more he was catapulted back to the night of her 21st outside the club.

The internal conflict that had been raging inside him back then reared once more with vengeance only this time it wasn’t just about Sammy. There was Andy and everything else that had happened over the past few days, and her question from before rang around his head, silencing the voices...

“If I’d have told you I loved you, back then, would it have made a difference? Would you have fought harder?”

Whilst he couldn’t answer that, because he honestly didn’t know, he did know one thing. He didn’t regret them being together, at all.

“…do I regret anything that happened between us? No, not a damned second I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

And he would, one and a million fucking times over regardless of how it worked out, because he'd rather have had her for those few months than never at all.

He was aware she still hadn’t moved, her eyes were bouncing across his, like she was waiting for him to decide what he wanted, what he was going to do…so he did. His lips brushed hers, in a soft, gentle kiss, their noses bumping together slightly. And she didn't pull away. His arm tightened around her and he pulled her closer, his lips gliding over hers, the kiss deepening slightly. She was mimicking his movements, reciprocating, her tongue sliding against his and fuck he was in heaven, his stomach full of those familiar knots, until she pulled away, dropping her head slightly, her hand on his chest.

"Ari..I..." her voice was raspy, her chest rising and falling deeply as was his. And he shook his head before he pressed it to hers.

“I know.” he sighed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s not just your fault” she said softly.

He looked at her before he moved his arm from round her, running his hand through his hair as he sat back, shaking his head, looking down at his hands. There was a moment or two of silence, Ari mentally cursing himself again for being an idiot before Hannah spoke.

“I need to go…it’s late and I didn’t sleep much last night." she looked at him “Wanna walk me back?” He looked at her, noticing that she was smiling and he gave a soft laugh.

“Sure…come on.”

He stood up, ducking again as the cave wasn’t tall enough to accommodate his full height and held his hand out to help her up. She took it, and once she was stood, she didn’t let go.

**** “Have you seen Hannah?” Rachel asked, walking back out onto the patio “I need to ask her something about the Spanish guests.”

“She left for a walk.” Max said, looking up from the piece of drift wood he had been whittling into shape. As Rachel made to go find her, he suddenly realised he had sent Ari before and hastily stood up. “I’ll go, see if I can find her.” he offered.

Rachel smiled “Thanks.”

Max walked over the sand, down in the direction Hannah had headed in and then paused as he saw them in the distance, slowly making their way back towards the resort, hand in hand. Smiling to himself, Max turned to head back, giving one last glance over his shoulder at which point he saw them both stop at Hannah’s hut. Hannah looked up at Ari who wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She pulled back, smiled and headed into her room with Simon. Ari paused as the door closed, his head dropping a little as his hand ran through his hair before he headed towards his own accommodation.

Max made his way back to the dining area and wanderd inside to the bar, pouring himself a scotch.

“Did you find her?”

He spun to look at Rachel and shook his head “Nah, no sign. Must have gone to bed”

She looked at him before nodding “Ok, it can wait until tomorrow. I’m turning in myself now then. You ok to shut up here when you’re done?” Max nodded and watched Rachel go before he resumed his previous position at the table, picking up his carving, a soft smile playing on his face.

This time, he wasn’t saying shit about what he’d seen.

#leave no one behind #ari levinson #ari levinson x ofc #red sea diving resort #red sea diving resort fan fic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

Get Together

Part 6 in Getaway Series

Warnings: noncon sex (oral, vaginal and anal intercourse, menstruation, violence), angst, rude words from a rude dude. This is dark!(nomad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. I mean it, I’m not gonna tell you again.

Summary: Steve makes his appearance at the reader’s family barbeque.

Note: This is fucking rough. No exaggeration. I can actually not express her how fucking brutal this chapter turned out so please read the warning, re-read them, then read a third time. I mean it. This is some dark ass shit and I’m almost questioning myself at the moment.

Anyways, hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think as always. Love ya <3

...

You'd always dreaded your mother's barbeques. They were crowded, noisy, and hectic. Not only with stuffy family members you avoided but strangers your mother knew from work or even just met in passing. She had a habit of seeking friendship in any who looked her way.

Your mother was at the top of your list of those to avoid. Since your break-up with Ethan, you had done your best to change the subject whenever it came up between you. You were sure Gia was also feeding her curiosity.

You didn't have the energy to lie anymore and you certainly wouldn't tell the truth. You prayed that Steve forgot your sister's invitation. That you could show up, say hi, and scurry back home.

You woke up early that Sunday. Your mom texted you until you got up and assured her that you would be there. You needed to powder the lemon squares anyway. Those were your specialty; your mother insisted on them for every gathering.

You went to the kitchen in your long tee and pulled out the powdered sugar. You filled the sifter and began to shake it over the pan of squares you made the night before. You yawned and grabbed your lower back.

You had been relegated to sleeping on the thin mattress without its frame. It didn't stop Steve. He returned in the days since its breakdown to terrorize you. You suspected he enjoyed the thought of you on the floor.

The door clicked and you glanced over as the lock slid open. You sighed as Steve entered. So much for hoping. You carried on your work as you covered the desert in sweet snow. The door closed behind him and he strode into the kitchen.

"You know, you do strike me as the baking type," He remarked as he came up beside you. "Cute."

You ignored him and kept your eyes on the pan. You were really not looking forward to going now. How would you explain him to your mother? Hell, you weren't quite sure how Gia hadn't seen past his poor disguise. You had but you'd also found him in his uniform. She had only seem the casual, easy-going Nick.

"Doesn't start til noon," You grumbled.

"Lots of time then," His fingertips tickled your thigh just beneath the hem of the shirt.

"I'm on my rag," You didn't look at him as you set the sifter in the sink and tucked the sugar away in the cupboard.

"Hmmp. Explains the attitude but I don't see how it's relevant." He leaned against the counter as you crossed your arms at him. "Do you think a little blood will stop me?"

You tilted your head. He wore a button up and pressed slacks. Polished leather shoes and a matching belt. He had dressed up for your mother's little shindig.

"Nothing will." You resigned.

"You're right." He pushed himself away from the counter and headed back through the door. "So, let's make the most of our time."

You rubbed your forehead and rinsed your hands. Keep him happy and he might not humiliate you entirely at the barbeque. You followed him as he carefully undressed in your living room. He draped his shirt over the chair, his slacks too, his socks tucked neatly into his shoes beneath. He was deliberate; basking in your obvious agitation.

"On your stomach," He pointed to the couch.

You frowned as he pulled his briefs down. You huffed and tried to pass him. He caught you as he dropped his underwear on the chair.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting a towel," You snapped. "You've ruined enough already."

"Hurry up." He let go and paced towards the couch.

You grabbed the towel you used the night before and whisked back into the room. As you neared him, he turned to rip it from your grasp. He spread it across the couch and stood back. He was hard and judging by the twitch in his jaw, impatient.

You lowered yourself onto the couch. You stretched out on your stomach, content to hide your face in your arms. Your head shot up as he slapped your ass.

He pulled your shirt up and yanked your panties down your legs. He flung them away from him, the pad still clung to the crotch. He climbed over you, his legs on either side of yours.

He pushed his cock down past your ass and to your entrance. He prodded at your pussy but didn't go further. He ran his fingers along your back and you shivered.

He grabbed your arms just above your elbows and pushed inside. You exhaled into the cushion as he thrust slowly. His cock added to the fullness which had settled in your pelvis. Your hips ached as he moved against you.

He grunted as he fucked you. Usually he was more talkative. He forced your back to arch painfully and you groaned. The room was filled with the sounds of his flesh against yours. He got faster and faster. His pelvis crashed against yours and sent ripples up your spine.

He let go of your right arm and slapped your ass as he sped up again. He kneaded the flesh as his hips stuttered and you held yourself up on one elbow. “Dont--” You choked on your voice was he came. Fuck. You were already a mess, you didn’t need more of one.

“What?” He eased himself to a stop and grabbed the back of your head. He shoved it into the cushion and pusher deeper until you whined. “Were you trying to say something?”

“N-no,” You rasped. “Nothing...”

He released you and pulled out of you roughly. He tugged free a corner of the towel from beneath you and wiped himself off. You sat up and felt the flow of semen and blood spill onto the towel. “You should get cleaned up,” He turned away and wandered casually towards your bathroom. “You do like to play the innocent, don’t you?”

You heard the smirk in his voice. You grabbed the towel and stood. You followed reluctantly. The shower trembled and burst into life. You tossed the towel in the hamper and grabbed a fresh one. Another for him.

You sighed. You should let him air dry. You plopped the towels on the closed toilet and looked up at the shower curtain. Steve’s broad figure was just visible through the foggy plastic.

You pulled your tee over your head and tossed it on the floor. You stepped into the shower behind him, the smell of your lavender body soap tickled your nose. Great, hopefully nobody noticed his flowery scent.

He scrubbed his hair with your shampoo and you did your best to catch some of the stream. You tried to wash him away but somehow, you could never quite remove the taint of his touch. He switched with you wordlessly as you lathered soap on your skin. His hands trailed through the bubbles on your back and he poked you with his erection. He never took long.

You wetted your hair as his fingers crawled along your hips. He hummed as his cock slid along your ass. You froze and closed your eyes. Waiting. He drew his hands away and the shower curtain chimed as he pulled it back.

“Later,” He promised. “Get cleaned up.” He closed the curtain behind him. “I can’t wait to meet the family.”

Your heart stopped. At least it felt like it did. Fuck. It was bad enough that he had endeared himself to Gia, she was an easy mark, but you couldn’t imagine what your mom would think when you showed up with a new man. Well, you hadn’t invited him. You’d make that very clear.

You gulped and squirted some shampoo into your hand. Distract her with the lemon squares, she might not even notice the bearded goon following you like a shadow.

You were quiet as Steve drove. You should’ve figured he had a car but you really hadn’t put too much thought to his activities outside of hounding you. You balanced the lemon squares on your lap and stared out the window. You gave him directions when needed but your mind was already at your destination.

Your mom’s street was lined with cards. You walked half a block between the car and her house. You could hear the buzz of voices in the backyard. You led Steve around the side as he looked over the house. The gate was unlocked to welcome guests and your dad was already warming up the barbeque.

Your mother appeared at the back door and sighted you from across the yard. She smiled and came down the steps. As she wove through the other guests, her eyes landed on Steve and her brows shot up. She greeted you with a one armed hug as you avoided smushing the pan against her middle. She took the lemon squares from you as she let go.

“Honey!” She preened, “You’re here. A little late, but here.” She peeked at Steve, “And who is this?”

“Nick,” Steve offered his hand. You looked over your mom’s shoulder as Gia made her way towards you. Shit.

“A friend,” You filled in grimly. “Gia invited him.”

You sister appeared at the mention of her name. She was pressed and plucked perfectly. She smiled at Steve and trilled her hello.

“I gather your guy is here,” You commented on her flowery dress. “So…”

“He’s in the bathroom,” She returned. “And you actually brought a friend.”

“I didn’t exactly ask him along,” You mumbled.

“Sorry, Nick, I promise our family is not usually this hostile,” Your mother chimed before she looked to you and Gia. “Girls.”

“Siblings,” He chuckled coolly. “I don’t mind.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I steal my daughter for a moment,” Your mom replied. “I promise I’ll have her back quickly.”

“Not at all,” He shrugged. “It looks like a lively party. I’m sure I can manage.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Gia assured, “Ben should be back soon.” She turned to Steve and batted her lashes. “You two will get along.”

You sighed quietly and reluctantly let your mother lead you away from them. You hated how easily your sister got on with him. How smoothly he put his mask on and fooled others. Your mother took you inside and set down the pan on the counter. She turned back to you, still smiling.

“I figured you could cut the squares,” She said, “And tell me about this Nick.”

“Mom,” You brushed by her and took a knife from the block. You removed the lid from the squares and set to carving lines through them. “He just lives down the hall. That’s all.”

“He’s cute…” She sang, “And after Ethan and you split so suddenly--”

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend,” You interrupted her. “Nick is just...someone I know. He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Gia’s big mouth.”

“So, when do I get to see this new place of yours,” Your mother smoothly deflected your irritation.

“Whenever you want, mom,” You shrugged. “Not much to see. A lot smaller than our--my old one.”

“Gia did say that. Honey, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” You assured her. “I’m sorry, it’s just...if everyone could stop bringing up Ethan I’d be a lot better. It’s bad enough that I’m here with--”

The look on your mother’s face was frightening. Her smile was gone and her eyes were wide. Your ears tingled and you sensed a shift in the air. A familiar voice rose and drifted through the window. The sound of gasps and ‘oohs’ were soon to follow.

“Oh, mom, you didn’t,” You dropped the knife and headed for the door.

“Gia didn’t say you were bringing this Nick guy, I thought you two could talk…”

She followed as you swept through the backdoor to find the two men standing chest to chest in the midst of the crowd. Steve had a few inches on Ethan and was almost twice as wide. Gia was holding back your ex as the super soldier grinned with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You son of a bitch,” Ethan snarled as Gia fought against him. “What is he doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” You stormed down the steps towards him. “You said you didn’t want to talk.”

“I didn’t, but I thought--” His eyes flashed as you neared. “I didn’t think you’d be bringing him along.”

“Ethan, why did you come?” You kept your voice low. “It’s over.”

“Sure as fuck it’s over.” He pushed Gia away and Steve laughed. You stepped between them before Ethan could raise his fist. “I just thought maybe we didn’t have to leave this the way it is.” He looked around and gritted his jaw. “You’re a fucking slut.” He backed away slowly and looked to your mother. “You hear that? You’re daughter is a cheating bitch.”

“Son,” Your dad appeared, spatula in hand at Ethan’s side. “I think it’s time you go.”

Ethan glared at your dad and Steve dropped his arms. He squared his shoulders as he came up beside you. Ethan sputtered and looked around at his audience. “Fuck all of you.” He turned and stomped out the gate as you watched. Your eyes stung and you sniffed back the tears that threatened.

You glanced around at the guests who were still in shock over the scene. You turned and marched past your mom and back up the steps. She trailed you into the kitchen and you picked your knife up and continued to cut the squares. Silently.

“Honey…” Her voice was pitiful.

“I didn’t--” You shook your head and swallowed your words. You finished with the lemon squares and pulled out a plate to serve them on. The screen door flapped opened and closed and you looked up as Gia entered.

“So…” She came up on the other side of the counter. “What was that about?”

“Leave it, Gia,” You grumbled as you focused on the dessert.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the island. She chewed her lip as she watched you. “Did you…?”

You looked up at her and your lip trembled. “Please, don’t even ask me that.”

“Well, that was...intense. What am I supposed to say?”

“Ethan’s bitter. That’s all.”

“And you and Nick? You never…” Her voice trailed off as you dusted off your hands and rinsed them. You couldn’t look at her. That was all the answer she needed. “When you were still with Ethan?”

“I fucked everything up, okay?” You turned and barked at her. Your mother watched in stunned silence. Her face painted with judgment. The same revulsion you felt for yourself. “I did it. I made my own fucking mistakes and they are none of your business.” You huffed. “Leave Nick alone. Leave me alone. It’s better off you don’t get yourself involved.”

You turned and headed for the door. Your mom was quick to block you, her arm across the screen. “Honey, you can’t just run away?”

“I know I can’t run,” You said. “But I can’t stay here. Not after that.” You looked over your shoulder as you grabbed the screen door. “I told you not to invite him.”

You pushed past your mom and tramped down the steps. Steve was stood with some man you’d never seen. Dark hair, graying dark suit; it must’ve been Ben. You came up beside Steve and touched his elbow. He looked down at you and smirked.

“We’re leaving,” You said.

“What?” He blinked. His blue eyes narrowed at your order.

“My mom wants us gone,” You lied. “I think we’ve caused enough drama. Drawn enough attention.”

He thought and nodded. “Suppose you’re right,” He turned to Ben and excused himself. “Nice to meet ya.” He grabbed your elbow and cleared his throat. He ushered you to the gate and you were thankful at least to be leaving. “It’s a shame. I was really looking forward to trying one of those squares.”

You kept quiet as he squeezed your arm and dragged you down the street.

“It was nice seeing Ethan again, wasn’t it?” He boasted. “Should’ve broke that jaw of his and maybe he’d have shut the fuck up.”

“Steve,” You croaked. “Please.”

“Fuck,” He shoved you into the side of the car and you stumbled. You turned and he was on you in an instant. His body held you flush against the hot metal. “You’re still in love with him?”

“Of course I am,” You spat. “You--you ruined everything. I was happy.”

You shook as you glared up at him.

“You were complacent. You had a boring life before me. Nothing before me.”

“I hate you,” You sneered.

The crack stunned you. Almost as much as it stunned him. Your hand flew up across his cheek before you could stop it. His head moved just a little and he grabbed your wrist before you could lower it. His blue eyes were fiery.

“Oh-ho-ho,” He smiled; a dangerous smile. “There we go. I’ve been waiting for that.” His other hand came up around your neck as he bent down. “Get in the fucking car,” He whispered and squeezed. “Now.”

He let go and backed away. You gulped as you stared up at him. Your heart raced and your entire body was on fire. You trembled as you pushed yourself away from the car and stumbled around to the other side. His door slammed as he got in and you shut yours softly. You gripped your knees as he turned the engine.

“You’re in it now, bitch,” He growled as he pulled out.

The locks clicked and you watched the houses pass in a blur. Shit.

Steve drove up to your building. He stopped in front and before he could kill the engine, you had your seatbelt undone and the door unlocked. You shoved the door open and bolted out. You fled done the sidewalk without an endpoint in sight. You just wanted to be away.

You heard him behind you. The slam of his door and his shoes keeping time with yours. You were out of breath before you reached the corner and he kicked your legs out from under you. You flew forward and scraped your palms and arms on the pavement with a yelp.

He planted his feet on either side of you and pulled you with a hand on your neck and the other on your arm. He lifted you as if you weighed nothing. To him, you were nothing.

“I’ll scream,” You tried to pull away from him as he turned you back down the street.

“Then scream,” He kept his hand on your arm as he walked you beside him. “I don’t give a fuck.” He marched you along the walk and kicked closed the car door as he passed. He dragged you up to the door of your building, your shoes slid across the pavement helplessly. “I should’ve showed everyone what a whore you were back at your parents, eh? You’d be begging for it just like you did in front of Ethan.”

“Stop!” You twisted and he slammed your back into the door. The force knocked the wind from you as he glared down at you.

“You know why I won’t leave you alone?” He pinned you against the door. “Because every time I come, you’re that much closer to breaking and when you do, I’m gonna love every second of it.”

You blanched. You tried to shove him away and he easily caught your arms. He turned you around and reached into your pocket. He took your keys and shoved them in the slot. He wrenched the door open and pushed you through. You stumbled as he slapped your ass and barked for you to go.

You fought him as you ascended the stairs. You hit every wall as he forced you up. If any stumbled upon the struggle, you suspected he’d be no less brutish with them. When you reached your floor, you planted your feet and he kicked your rear. You fell to your knees and he grabbed the back of your blouse.

He dragged you down the worn carpet and to your door. He swiftly opened your door and tossed you inside. You hit the wall just next to the kitchen doorway and slid back down to your knees. The lock slid into place as his breaths grew louder in his anger.

A subtle jingle sounded from behind you and he grabbed your shoulder as you tried to stand. He forced you down onto your stomach and straddled you between his thick legs. He held your wrists behind you as he tore loose his belt. He wrapped the leather around your wrists and pulled it so tight, your fingers throbbed.

He smacked the back of your head as he stood. He toed your side and paced around you in the small space and lifted you to your feet. You tried to kick out and he deflected your leg with his. He grabbed your neck and held you against the wall.

“You wanna play that game?” He slapped your cheek with his other hand. The sting burned your cheek and he did it again. Harder. You clenched your jaw as he hit you over and over, every strike meaner than the last. “Let’s play.”

He ripped you away from the wall and shoved you ahead of him. You dug your heels into the floor and he sighed. He smacked your ass so hard you stumbled and he caught the back of your pants before you could topple. He dragged you into the bedroom and pushed you so that you fell face first onto the mattress.

“Stay,” He rested his shoe between your shoulder blades and pushed until you could breath.

“Fuck you!” You lifted your head and looked back at him. “I fucking hate you.”

“I know you do,” He removed his foot and slid his phone out of his pocket. “But it won’t look that way, will it?” He moved his thumb around his screen and set the phone sideways on your bookcase. “I send this little video to Ethan and he might just be stupid enough to share it.”

You dropped your head against the mattress and grunted as you pulled against the belt. You heard him moving around, the floor creaked beneath his weight, and you swore into the blanket. He was going to take everything from you, even your family. No, he wouldn’t get that. Never.

Your whole body jolted as he tore your pants down in one motion. Your panties and flats were swept away with the pressed fabric. You were left bare and face down. He knelt on the mattress next to you and flipped your over. He ripped your blouse down the middle and snapped your bra. He tweaked your nipples painfully as you tried to roll away.

He slapped your cheek again, this time with the back of his hand. His knuckles left your cheekbone tender. You tried to sit up and he pushed you back down easily. He was completely naked. He climbed over you so that his thighs were around your head and pressed his cock against your lips.

“Open up,” He squeezed your chin. “Come on. Don’t make me break that pretty little face of yours.”

You opened your mouth and he was quick to slip inside. You gagged and spasmed as he invaded your throat. You couldn’t breath as he sank his entire length into you. He leaned on his knees and began to thrust. He grasped your hair between his fingers as he fucked your face.

“He was fucking right. You are a slut,” He panted as he sped up. Faster and faster until stars spotted your vision. “You’re probably wet already.”

His grunts filled your head as your eyes rolled back. He never wavered, even as you were certain you would pass out. He bent over you and pushed his cock as deep as it could go and you felt the sickly heat burst in your throat. He snarled as he came and you were forced to swallow or choke.

You coughed as he pulled out of your mouth. Your head lolled and he slapped you again. Three times before your eyes opened. “We’re not even close to done,” He turned you over again and struck your ass. You whined and he spanked you until your ass was raw.

“Fucking dirty,” He said as he shoved his hand between your legs.

You could feel the blood and your unwilling arousal spread along his fingers. He pushed your legs apart and grabbed the back of your neck. He lined himself up and entered you smoothly. You groaned against the mattress and he plunged to his limit.

His hand slipped down to the belt and he pulled on your wrists as he began to move. His hips slammed against your ass. You rasped into the blanket as your body racked beneath his. Each thrust was painful. A reminder that he was in control. That every fight would end this way.

He kneaded your ass with his other hand as he crushed you into the bed. You could feel the floor through the thin cushion. His thumb slipped down and he circled around your asshole. You shook your head but before you could protest, he forced his finger inside.

You whimpered at the strain in your ass he pulled his thumb in and out roughly in time with his cock. It sent a peculiar ripple through your body; added to the strokes of his cock against your walls. You trembled at the sudden flurry of nerves in your pelvis.

“See, you fucking like it,” He hissed. “You can fight me all you want, but you’ll never win.” His words were punctuated by harsh breaths and you body spasmed suddenly. “Uh-uh-uh, look at you. You’re cumming already.” He pounded into harder and kept his thumb inside you. “You like it in the ass, don’t you?”

He removed his thumb and bent over you. He thrust you into the mattress and turned your head. He held your chin in place as his hot breath singed your cheek, his lips pressed to your skin.

“Hmm? You want me dick in your ass?” He growled.

“N-n-”

His palm smothered your protest and he pulled out of you. He slid his cock back along your ass and you wiggled beneath him. You tried to bite his hand but he merely pressed it tighter. He reached down to pushed himself against your tight hole and you cried out into his hand.

Your eyes went wide as he shoved himself inside. He groaned in delight as he entered you slowly. Tears rose in your vision and your entire body buzzed with pain as he forced his way in. You kicked your legs against his as he impaled you completely.

He moved carefully. Savoured the stretch of you around him. You went limp as the pain was too much. He uncovered your mouth and rested his forehead against your temple. He shoved his hand beneath you and squeezed your tit as his hips rocked against you.

“You’re a fucking mess,” He whispered. “I can feel your blood all over me.”

His pace picked up a little at a time. You closed your eyes in shame. You bit down as the agony tore through you. Your voice rose as his hips jerked into you harder and harder. You whined in pain as he fucked your ass without restraint.

He pushed himself up, his hand on your shoulders as he chased his climax. His grunts were sultry and hypnotic against the shrill anguish of your own. He grabbed the back of your head and shoved it into the mattress as his thrusts grew uneven. He roared as he came and rode out his high.

You were left shaking beneath him as he sat back on his knees. He stayed inside of you and his cock twitched. You tried to wriggle away but it only added to the strain. His fingers wrapped around your waist and he began to move again.

You bit your lip and held your breath as it started again. The shock, the pain, the humiliation. You would not break. Not for him. He would not win. You wouldn’t let him. The great Captain America had lost before and he could again.

#getaway #series #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers #au #mcu #marvel #fic #captain america #dark!verse #darkverse #dark!fic #dark fic

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anangelicday-mrwolf · 4 years ago

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Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 38 – Something None of Them Wanted or Expected

“Care to explain why I have to refresh my sore eyes with that face of yours? What a way to start a morning.”

“I’ve never done that, but that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I’ll see what I can do with it.”

<Geez, looks like joking is not an option any more in your presence.>

Despite his manners, Frankenstein aimed for more than vexing the werewolf lord.

“Please tell me you have a good reason why you requested a conversation with me so early. I’d thought I told you we must for the time being be cautious of every word we share, including those exchanged through transmission. And I couldn’t possibly be the only one who told you so.”

<Uh, the thing is, my kid will be busy for the next few days. So Adne and I decided to lend a claw or two.>

My kid?

Frankenstein was about to snap at him that he should be more specific with his term, when there are dozens of werewolves under his care.

But he held his voice, upon reminding himself that there is only one werewolf aside from Adne that Muzaka would ever mention to him at a time like this.

Audited by an expert?

Who could this expert be?

Whatever it is that she discovered, I doubt she can find the best expert other than me, in anything related to Union or Crombel.

But how come she didn’t come to me and......

Frankenstein sealed his lips tighter, albeit already zipped, in the middle of his cognitive complaints.

‘You shouldn’t be missing her, Frankenstein.’

He told himself a number of times that she is off-limits, especially since they had ended up exploring each other’s lips.

Nevertheless, here he was, painfully savoring how his heart was sailing towards her. He had to struggle to anchor his heart back to his chest.

Muzaka began to fidget with something, unavailable for witness at Frankenstein’s angle of vision.

“Stop it. We didn’t get to diagnose the exact cause of the failure in activating QuadraNet. It’s not safe to disclose such an important resource on transmission, lest there be loss or leak.”

“I’ll fetch it myself.”

Muzaka made a peculiar face; it appeared as if he honestly wanted to slap his ears to see if they are functional.

“There’s no other way, is there? Oh, no need to be concerned that other werewolves would be curious or suspicious of my visit. I’ll make sure no one else can see me.”

Frankenstein exhibited not the slightest hint of hesitation. If it was guaranteed that he will not get to see the certain gray-haired werewolf, there was no reason for him to stay away from wolfkind’s realm.

“So make sure I can receive it upon arrival. I’ll leave as soon as I get it; I’m a busy man myself.”

<Uh... Okay. Okay! G-great! I’ll see you soon.>

Frankenstein headed to 3rd Elder as soon as Muzaka’s face flashed off from the monitor, to let him know that once again he will be absent for a while.

“There is this jer... I mean, there is this someone I must see. So stay tucked. I won’t take long.”

Frankenstein did not even wait for a reply from the white-haired man.

The moment he was surely gone, 3rd Elder’s eyes were caught on fire.

Though he wished Frankenstein would have revealed where he was off to, he knew he should not wait to determine his destination.

So he drew out the plastic bag containing the sample of Frankenstein’s tonic, kept hidden all this time for this moment – the moment to let his old lab techniques shine.

Simultaneously, he prayed that Helga and their accomplice assistant would be ready.

*****

A few days later, in the werewolf realm

“Man – even the Kertias would flush in shame at your skills in stealth. How did you get here without sounding the alarm?”

“There is always a way, but don’t expect me to tell you. That’s not what I’m here for, after all.”

“Well, you’ve got a point.”

Muzaka stepped down from his thrown to lead his guest to one of werewolf labs, to present him with a pile of documents.

Frankenstein scanned the contents, before his eyes glinted.

“Huh...”

“What? Is it really that important?”

“...Pretty much.”

That was when he emitted an exasperated sigh, as if he could not believe he was saying this.

“I’d hate to admit it, but the Union and Ignes were not too shabby. The former actually devised such a genius weapon, and the latter sought to make it better.”

“A genius weapon?”

Now inquisitive, Muzaka peeked over Frankenstein’s shoulder.

“Genetic... Calibrator... Chip... GC chip? A weapon based on biochip technology? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Biochip. It’s a trick I’d often make use of. It’s no longer a stranger to the civilians, either. It requires human genetic information – DNA or protein – to work as a conductor on an electronic device or parts, to be connected to a computer, thereby allowing calculations and data interpretations of rate and accuracy beyond any human imagination or preexistent semiconductor. It’s a dreamlike technique that...”

“Speak human, will ya?”

“......Simply put, a biochip enables your computer to deal with data and information at a rate that only a biological brain can conduct. Consider it an essential element in shaping a computer into a fine mechanical mimicry of human brain.”

Muzaka did not withdraw the puzzled look on his face, but he did not ask for further explanation.

“Okay, if you say so. So what does this GC chip do?”

“It was to be used for weapons developed or manufactured by the Union. And for the computers that would control such weapons. They would download the DNA data laid inside the chip to target only the designated foe for assault.”

“So it makes a weapon capable of telling its targets on its own? I have no idea how that’s possible, but you’re right. Those rascals are not too shabby.”

Frankenstein continued with his ardent inspection of the document, wondering why Union had never flaunted such weapon. However, he could soon presume why.

‘Those monsters had long been standing as the summit of the world, thanks to their modified humans, technology in human modification, and the derivative profit. I doubt they could find a threat fearsome enough to take on with such weapon. And even though we later served as their great adversary, they wouldn’t have had samples to use against us, nobles, or werewolves.’

His assumption was proven by the note on the document, specifying how the GC chip never made it out of the list of weapons on a hold.

And obviously Ignes did not agree with such course of action.

“She was hoping to refine this weapon, to make it work exclusively on modified humans loyal to those that oppose her.”

“So they laugh and chit-chat under the chandelier but seek for a chance to bite at each other’s head on their carriages back from the ball. That’s so much like the Union, though I shouldn’t be saying this as an ex-tenant of Crombel’s lab.”

Frankenstein retorted with a snort and an expression that he is not completely brainless.

“Speaking of which, is the reconstruction all over now?”

“Sort of. This isn’t the first time, so there was no need for me to give orders.”

Muzaka grinned, despite the fact that having to rebuild his land on multiple basis is nothing to be proud about.

“But I couldn’t help getting scared during the process. I mean, we’ve already experienced destruction and construction several times. So I even came to think that maybe we should just leave things the way they are, since there’s a good chance they’d be dismantled again.”

“You know you can’t do that.”

“Oh, of course I do. But I’m scared as I speak. I wouldn’t be surprised to witness another facility breaking down to dust. Or hear something exploding.”

“No need to make yourself sound so ominous. The odds feel too high whenever you offer them.”

Muzaka snickered, as if telling his audience that he is worrying for nothing.

And just then resonated a CRASH, something none of them wanted or expected.

“...What was that?”

“H-how should I know? But it came from the biggest lab in our...”

“You mean the main lab? Where Mr. Jang worked?”

“Uh... Yeah. What about it?”

Then why are you still here?

Frankenstein glared at the werewolf lord briefly before he bolted. Muzaka soon caught up to him and outran him.

They soon got to see how the lab was already teeming with werewolf researchers and warriors.

“What was that all about?”

“Something just blew up, right?”

“Ugh, what’s the smell? This is the foulest, thickest smoke I’ve ever smelled!”

The atmosphere was close to chaotic, but werewolves did not fail in noticing Muzaka and letting him through the unbearably malodorous stench of smolder, followed by Frankenstein, whose presence nobody questioned due to the magnitude of the situation.

Once he reached the center of the commotion, Frankenstein could see why no one kept much interest in him.

“...What happened?”

Muzaka murmured at the sight of a hunched, terribly quivering werewolf, his tone no longer merry, now steeled with utmost rigidity and coldness.

Frankenstein’s heart seized as well upon identifying who he was.

“M-my lord......”

Adne was holding onto something with hands just as quivery.

Muzaka closed their distance, and Adne stepped back as he shook his arms like they were on fire.

“...This must be the network transmission modem. The one that human researcher installed for the QuadraNet. How come it’s in pieces? He told us never to touch it. You told me an urgent business came up before you left; is this what you were talking about?”

Adne’s lips mumbled something inaudible in a hurry, but with skittish eyes he surveyed the faces looking down at him before trembling once again.

“We gotta talk, Adne. We have a lot to talk about.”

Muzaka sternly announced, as Frankenstein narrowed his lips.

(next chapter)

The ideology and terminology for “biochip” and “biological computers” are not fictional. My original plan was to get into more details regarding the current research and commercial progress that has been made regarding these technologies. However, I decided to include only the most basic concepts about them, for I believe including something that requires professional comprehension would prove as hindrance in readers’ appreciation of a work.

Also, it’s about time to bring out the star of the show so far hidden - the apparent traitor in QuadraNet project. I’ve been providing hints about this traitor over the several past chapters; I’m not sure if you caught every single one of them, and I’ll definitely get into details about them in future chapters! Hopefully you’ll stay tuned until then!

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #fanfic #noblesse #frankenstein #lunark #frankensteinxlunark #wolfsbane

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

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Seborga: One-Time Party Planner

No problemo, dude! Prompts are prompts, no matter who they’re from! Unfortunately, I had a limited amount of time to write this fic before midnight tonight, so I couldn’t take you up on that challenge. It’s also a lot longer than I thought! But whatever. Hope you enjoy!

Ao3

With his brothers' birthday coming up, Seborga wants to plan the ultimate surprise party for them. He then realizes he may be a little in over his head and enlists the help of some friends.

***********

Seborga’s feet slapped the tiles of his kitchen as he cooked. It was about lunch time and he was making something light to eat. Something light to eat that wasn’t a salad, anyway. He was unable to understand how his brothers ate salads regularly. On an ordinary day, he would be singing to himself and shuffling across the tiled floor. Today, however, his mind was occupied. His

brothers’ birthday was about a month from that day and he was figuring out logistics. He finished his sandwich and carried it into the living room. His coffee table was strewn with assorted papers detailing guests and things he still needed to do to have the party set up within a month.

He knew that he had a month to get it all done. To conduct a surprise party with this many guests was already difficult, but Seborga knew that on the day of their birthday he would be invited over to spend the day with them. Birthdays in their family was all about family and spending time together. But, Italy liked to consider the world his family, right? Surely the two wouldn't be too mad at a surprise party.

He scanned the guest list, chewing a bite of his sandwich. The first few guests were obvious, but how big should the party be? Of course, whenever Seborga did anything, he did it with style. The invitations list ended up being a page and a half long. Perhaps he was guilty of inviting a couple of his own friends, but of course planning a surprise party of this magnitude earned its own reward. Seborga wouldn't say he dreaded this part, but he knew that the start of planning the party, all the work, all the well-meaning deceit would start with the first phone call. Steeling his reserve, he started with the top of the list.

“Sebby!” Spain’s voice greeted, tinny over the phone speaker. “How great of you to call! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, as you know Feliciano and Lovino have an upcoming birthday-”

“On the seventeenth!” Spain interrupted. “I was just about to call you, actually! I wanted to take you three out to lunch to celebrate your brothers’ birthday.”

Seborga smiled. “Aww, Toni, that’s so kind of you! Actually, I was just about to invite you to a surprise party.”

“Ooh, seriously?” Spain sounded excited by the very prospect. “When?”

“I was thinking this evening.”

“Oh, so you won’t be able to make it for lunch.” Spain realized.

Seborga’s smile widened as he got an idea. “Actually, hang on. Can you occupy Feli and Lovi while we set up the party?”

“Of course! Hey, if you want you can host it at my house that way you three don't have to worry about cleaning up after the party.”

“Oh, that’s actually perfect!” Seborga was touched by Spain’s generosity. “Thank you so much, Toni!”

“No problem. So, how about I go over to pick them up around eleven. You can be sick or something so you can set up for the party at my house. When do I take them back to my house?”

“Um…” Seborga hadn’t thought that far. “Maybe around five thirty?”

"Sounds good. You can have everyone park behind the house that way they don't see all the cars before they head inside."

"Won't that mess up your lawn?"

"Eh." Spain said flippantly. "Grass is grass. It all grows back."

“I suppose so. Antonio, I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“Oh, anything for family!” Spain responded. “I’ll see you on the seventeenth!”

“See you then! Thanks, Toni! Oh, could you also invite…” Seborga leaned forward and went down his list. “France and Portugal?”

“Sure! Goodbye!”

“Bye!”

Seborga hanged up the phone, a weight lifted off his shoulders as he thought about what this meant for the setup of the party. Six and a half hours to set up. That would be fine, right? Then he happened to catch a glance of the guest list. How was he supposed to cook for all those people and decorate Spain’s house for the party? He would find a way. He had to. He leaned forward and crossed out Spain’s, France’s, and Prussia’s names. Okay. That was fine. Everyone he invited so far seemed to have good relationships with each other. Nothing to worry about. He hated to not invite certain people based on political circumstances and relationships between each other, but it was more important to have a friendly party than have a couple extra guests. Next on the list was Germany.

“Hello, Sebatian.” Germany’s curt voice greeted.

“Hi, Germany!” Seborga began. “Listen. I’m having a birthday party for my brothers on the seventeenth of March and I was wondering if that would work for you!”

“Of course. What time is it?”

“Five thirty at Spain’s house.”

“I can make it.” Germany said after a slight pause where he was likely checking his calendar. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Oh! Um…” Seborga hadn’t been expecting offers of help. “Actually, would you mind coming over a few hours early and helping me decorate? I’m sorry, I normally wouldn’t ask, but it’s just a lot for one person to do.”

“I’ll be over at two.” Germany answered.

“Wonderful! I can’t thank you enough, Germany.”

“No problem. I’m happy to help.”

Seborga smiled. Despite the joyful words Germany said, his words sounded monotone, as per his cadence of speaking. “Would you mind also inviting your brother, Liechtenstein, Switzerland, Austria, Hungary, and Russia and his siblings?”

"Hold on, would you mind repeating that? I have to write that down."

"Of course." Seborga laughed. "Sorry, I suppose that's a lot to remember." He slowly repeated the list.

“I can invite all of them, but I’m not exactly close to Russia and his family.” Germany said apologetically.

“But Hungary hangs out with Ukraine, right? So maybe she can make that happen?”

“I’ll ask her and see what she does.”

Seborga grinned. “Thank you so much! Could you also invite Japan, and tell him to invite his siblings?”

“If you want. I’ll also have Prussia come early with me. Japan will want to be there to help too, I’m sure.”

“Germany, you’re fantastic! My brother’s a lucky man!”

Germany cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Yes, thank you. I’ll see you the night of the seventeenth.”

“See you then! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. Goodbye.”

“Bye!”

Seborga hung up and smiled. He had a couple more calls to make, but everything was coming together. A weight lifted off his shoulders knowing that he was putting together a little committee. Suddenly, the prospect of planning the party seemed less like a chore and more like an opportunity.

The morning of the seventeenth, Seborga strode up to Italy and Romano’s house, coming in without ringing the doorbell. “Feliciano, Lovino, I’m here!”

From the distance, he could hear the sound of feet slapping the floor as Italy bolted down the hall and out into the foyer. “Seb!” He launched forward and wrapped up Seborga in a hug. “We’re so excited to see you!”

“I’m excited to see you guys, too. Happy birthday, Feli!” Seborga returned the hug.

Romano came into the foyer, holding a mug of steaming coffee, his mouth pulled into a relaxed smile. “Hi, Seb.”

“Hey, Lovino! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks.” Lovino came forward and hugged Seborga, not staying quite as long as Italy had. “How the hell are you?”

“Good, except for I think I’m coming down with something." Seborga couldn't help being nervous. He has always been a lousy liar.

“You are?! You think you could have told us before we hugged you!” Lovino exclaimed.

Italy frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Bit of a fever. Little tired, back of my throat is sore, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, will you miss lunch?” Feliciano asked, concerned.

“May as well be safe. Don't want Toni to get sick.” Seborga said.

Lovino nodded, though he didn't appear to be delighted that Seborga was staying behind. “May as well. You look dead on your feet, Sebastian, did you get any sleep last night?”

Seborga had been up all night cooking the day before. He had gotten about half of it done, but there was still a lot to do. Not to mention delivering it all to Spain’s house in the dead of night. “No.”

“Well, you can sleep here.” Lovino said. “You can sleep in the guest room. We put fresh sheets there.”

“I put fresh sheets there.” Feliciano corrected. “We should probably stay back with Seb. We can’t leave him alone!”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” Seborga said, waving a hand dismissively as he toed off his shoes. “It’s your guys’ birthday! You should at least celebrate it. I’ll take a nap, I’ll probably be feeling better by the time you guys get back.”

“Are you sure?” Italy asked.

“Absolutely. You guys go enjoy your lunch!”

Lovino frowned. “It would be pretty rude to cancel on Spain this late in the game.”

“You guys have fun, I’ll be napping.” Seborga ruffled their hair as they passed, Feliciano frowning at the action. Romano scowled, but kept his mouth shut as he passed.

“We’ll have our phones on us. Text if you need anything!” Feliciano said.

“Will do.”

Almost as if on cue, someone knocked on the door.

Spain let himself in. “Hola! Happy birthday, boys!”

“Hi, Toni!” Feliciano greeted.

“Hi,” Romano greeted as Spain bent down to kiss his fiancé’s cheek.

Spain pulled away, his brow furrowed as he pushed his hands into his jean pockets. “Is something wrong, Lovi?”

“Seb has a cold and he can’t go to lunch.”

“Aww, really?” Spain stepped forward and pulled his right hand out of his pocket, slapping it against Seb’s outreached hand. “Sorry, Seb.”

Seb returned the handshake, blinking as he registered something small and metal being pushed into his hand. As Spain pulled his hand away, Seborga put his clenched hand into his pocket, smiling. He hoped his shock didn't register too prominently on his face. “It’s okay. It happens.”

“Get plenty of sleep, drink some fluids. I hope you feel better soon!” Spain said. His back turned to Italy and Romano, he subtly winked at Seborga.

Seborga nodded. “I will. You guys have fun!”

“We will!” Italy said.

Romano pulled on his jacket. “Take care of yourself. Of course you had to get sick on our birthday, bastard.” Despite his words, Romano's words were laden with pity.

“Sorry, Lovi.” Sebastian apologized. He knew that it was just part of the surprise, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Don’t worry about it.” Romano zipped up his jacket. “Just get better. We don’t like it when you don’t feel good.”

“I’ll be fine. You guys better get out of here, or the restaurants are going to close before you even get lunch.”

“Okay. Bye, Sebby!” Italy waved, opening the door.

The three exchanged a few more goodbyes before they finally left. Seborga waited until he could hear the car leaving the driveway before he sprung up from the couch and pulled the key Spain had given him out of his pocket. He cringed. It was a good thing he hadn't made it upstairs before Spain had arrived. He'd forgotten all about the fact that Spain's door would be locked! He pulled on his leather jacket and fished his keys out of his pocket. “Okay. I have to hurry. Gotta’ cook, have to decorate, and Germany and the others will be at Spain’s in a couple hours.” He pushed open the front door and strode over to his motorcycle, pulling his helmet on. It was a short drive to Spain’s house, but regardless he couldn’t seem to get over there quickly enough. He hurriedly parked in front of the garage and unlocked the door. He then pushed through a few doors until he got to the garage and found the button to open the garage door. He ducked under the still-opening door and kicked up the kickstand to his motorcycle, pushing it into the garage. He then shut it and, pulling off his jacket, threw it onto the couch. He knew that in the kitchen fridge he would find several pasta dishes, a lasagna, salad ingredients, and a few beginnings to a cake he was making. Something light and delicate, with a coffee flavor. Enough to satiate Italy’s sweet tooth while also catering to Romano’s love of a balanced dessert. It would be difficult to navigate Spain’s kitchen, but he had plenty of time to figure out where everything was.

He had only been cooking for a couple hours when someone rang the doorbell. Seborga peeked over to the clock over the stove. Whoever it was, they were half an hour early. He rinsed his hands of flour and dried them on a towel as he hurried to the door to let whoever it was in. He opened the door. “Oh, Germany and Prussia! Thank you two so much for coming!”

Prussia was donned in a T-shirt that featured a crowd of chicks that read: ‘hanging with my peeps’ and a pair of black jeans paired with a pair of red converse. He grinned at Seborga. “We’re super excited to help. This will be the awesomest party in the world! Especially with me decorating.”

Germany was, of course, dressed far more reservedly in a pale blue button down shirt and navy blue work slacks. “We brought some beer and wine just in case. It’s in the trunk of my car, so we can get that whenever you want it in here.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Seborga said. “We can actually bring it in now so it can get chilled before the guests arrive.”

The three stepped off the porch as Germany popped the trunk of his car.

“You look so formal, Germany, where’s your party outfit?” Seborga asked.

“I’m wearing it.” Germany answered, a slight smile on the corners of his lips. “My pants are blue. Not black.”

“Ooh, crazy!” Prussia joked. “I tried to get him to wear a party hat, but he refused.”

Germany opened up his trunk, revealing enough boxes of beer and wine to satisfy all the guests to the party. “Here we are.”

“Holy hell!” Seborga laughed. “How did you fit all this in your trunk?”

“Not just that.” Prussia rounded the back of the car with an impish grin and opened the back door of the car. “We have some in the back seat, too! Enough to get everyone hammered!”

“You guys are the best!” Seborga high-fived Prussia with a smile.

“You say that now.” Germany reached own and pulled out a case of beer without an issue. “We still have to take it all in.”

After they got all the drinks inside, Seborga straightened and clapped his hands once together.

Germany too straightened and flexed his hands to bring feeling back into them after bringing in so many boxes.

Prussia too stood up straight, a hand coming up to the small of his back as he grunted. “Ow.”

“Right!” Seborga took a look at the alcohol in the kitchen. “I’ll find some coolers and put the beers up. Germany and Prussia, Spain said he should have some decorations in several bags in the living room. You two go on ahead and start setting those up!”

Germany nodded, pleased to have a duty, and left.

Prussia waited until Germany was barely out of earshot. “Don’t be fooled by his cheerful disposition. He’s excited to be here helping out.”

“No, I know.” Seborga responded. “That’s just how he is.”

“I guess he’s just nervous.” Prussia said, a knowing smile on his face.

“Nervous about what? It’s just a party with people he knows. No big deal!”

For a moment, Seborga could recognize the tiniest flicker in Prussia’s eyes. A flicker of fear. A flicker that he realized he had said too much.

Prussia’s winning smile widened until it stretched awkwardly over his teeth. “Ah, you know him. Just so socially awkward. I bet he just wants things to be perfect for his boyfriend.”

Seborga mentally filed away Prussia’s reaction, but decided to leave it be. Prussia looked uncomfortable as it is. “As if you can tease Germany for wanting things to be perfect. Remember Canada’s birthday?”

“Eh, it’s whatever.” Prussia’s pale ears flushed pink, followed quickly by his cheeks and neck.

“The photos were really sweet!” Seborga teased, poking a finger into his ribs.

Prussia laughed, stepping away. “Ow! Hey!”

“Go help your brother. We’re going to be out of time before we know it.”

The doorbell rang, the two distracted by the noise.

Seborga smiled. “That has to be Japan! Go on in to help Germany.” He started to make his way toward the door.

“Sure! Little warning, France said he would show up a bit early to help out.” Prussia called to Seborga’s back.

“I’m glad!” Seborga responded as he reached forward to grab the doorknob. “We need the extra help!” He pulled open the door, confronted with the sight of Japan. “Good afternoon, Japan!”

“Hello.” Japan said with a polite smile. He bent at the waist. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Seborga too bowed. “Thank you for coming over early to help!”

“Of course.” Japan straightened. “I brought a gift for Italy and Romano, as well as a bottle of Saki.” Japan gestured toward a basket hanging on his arm.

“Aww, that’s so sweet! Here, let me get that for you!” Seborga reached forward and accepted the basket from Japan. “Come in, come in! Germany and Prussia are already here to help hang up decorations.”

“Thank you. Is there any way I can help you?”

“Nope, but thank you!” Seborga answered.

Japan stepped inside. “Then I will help Germany and Prussia with decorations.”

“Thank you!” Seborga said as Japan made his way to the living room. After Seborga had strode to the kitchen, he opened the basket and looked mournfully inside. “What am I supposed to do with all this booze?”

The rest of the day went by in a similar fashion, with Seborga baking and periodically interrupting his progress to answer the door. France first arrived early, followed by Hungary and Austria, and even Canada and America. The decorating got done sooner than Seborga had expected, and soon there was nothing more inside to be done. Seborga pulled the final layer of the cake out of the oven and glanced at the clock over the stove. Only two hours. That would be cutting it close for sure on the cake. He glanced outside into the back yard. Shit, he had forgotten about the tent!

He stepped out of the kitchen to the living room full of chatting people. He clapped his hands twice for everyone’s attention. “Are there any big, strong people here?”

“Hell yeah!” Prussia shouted, his open hand shooting up into the air.

Hungary reached over and pulled Prussia’s hand down. “Easy there, Prussia, I think Seborga was talking to me.”

“Cute, folks.” America added. “Sorry to say, but I think I have you beat.”

“Oh yeah?” Prussia challenged. He pushed the sleeve of his T-shirt up to his shoulder. “You. Me. Arm wrestling. Now.”

Seborga once again clapped his hands together for their attention. “It’s fine, you’ll all do. You three go down and get the canopy tent out of Spain’s basement.”

“I can still get it up quicker than you can.” America challenged, pulling his sleeves up his arms as he pushed past Prussia.

Prussia only took a moment to recover before Hungary too bumped into him as she bolted past America.

Seborga rolled his eyes, grinning. “Okay. France, Austria, and Canada. There are some lantern lights down in the basement. Can you take them up and string them in the branches of the backyard trees?”

“Of course. Anything for you, Seb!” France said. He was followed by Austria and Canada as they hustled down the steps.

“Anything you need me to do?” Germany asked.

Seborga snapped, turning around. “Actually, yes! I need your help decorating the birthday cake. I know you’re super good with that kind of thing.”

“I try to be.” Germany said bashfully, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m not good at the small details. My hands are too big.”

“That’s okay. All help is important!” Seborga affirmed, waving Germany toward the kitchen. He paused and shouted down into the basement. “Oh, before you guys start you have to park your cars in the back so the boys don’t see them before they come into the house!”

“Got it!” Canada shouted, his quiet voice only slightly amplified by the echo of the basement. “Thank you, Seborga!”

Seborga then joined Germany in the kitchen, where he was searching the cabinets for bowls and pulling them out systematically by size.

“I know you wanted me to help, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do so I... got bowls.” Germany said, awkwardly waving to the assortment on the counter.

Seborga smiled. He’d always liked Germany. Though the man was intimidating on the outside, there was a kind of friendly awkward charm that made him impossible to dislike.

Twenty minutes later they had somehow stacked the three layers of cake and were frosting it with a crumb coat. Though Seborga knew that Germany's help would be instrumental to getting the cake done in time, but the two were actually ahead of schedule! With how well everything was going, Seborga had a difficult time thinking of anything that could make him any happier.

“So…” Germany began.

Seborga smiled as he frosted the outside of the second layer. “So?”

“I have… a question to ask you.”

Seborga looked over, alarmed by the nervous tone Germany had.

Germany was scooping more frosting onto his spatula, apparently avoiding Seborga’s gaze.

“Yes, of course!”

“So…” Germany began frosting he cake once again. “Your brother.”

“My brother.” Seborga repeated with an encouraging smile.

Germany lowered he spatula and finally met Seborga’s gaze. “I... love Feliciano very much. I have for a very long time. And maybe it’s a bad time, because I know Lovino and Spain are already engaged, but…”

Seborga’s mouth split into a joyful grin.

“I wanted to propose this evening.” Ludwig seemed to force it out, like keeping it in any longer would be painful. “If that was okay with you. I wanted your blessing.”

“Aww, Ludwig, that’s so sweet!” Seborga crooned. “Of course you have my blessing!”

Ludwig, relieved, let out a rare full smile. “That’s a relief. I already had Lovino’s blessing, but still…”

Seborga jumped up and down, clapping his hands. He already liked Ludwig, but he occasionally found himself still surprised by how sweet and considerate he could be. “Oh, this is fantastic! When are you planning on doing it?!”

Germany shrugged, scooping more frosting onto his spatula. “I thought I could do it late this evening, after most people had left. I figured the more private the better.”

“That’s perfect.” Seborga affirmed, resting a hand on Germany’s arm. “He’ll want to tell his family afterword, you know. He wouldn't be opposed to telling other people too, but I think he would prefer for it to just be a family moment."

“I know.” Germany’s lips pulled into a sentimental close-mouthed smile. “So I was hoping you and your brothers would stay here for a while after the party.”

“We can make that happen.” Seborga gave Germany a thumbs-up before he remembered they were working on a time limit. He continued to frost the cake. “Will Prussia be there?”

Germany shook his head. “No. We agreed to, if Feli says yes, go out for drinks and celebrate together this weekend. I imagine he will go home with France of Canada this evening.”

“This is perfect!” Seborga cheered, hardly able to contain himself. “Oh, and it’ll be perfect with all the lights in the trees, and the tent, and with how nice it is outside…”

“And that path Spain has around his yard, bordered by flowers.” Germany added. “It’s supposed to be a clear night.”

Seborga continued to frost the cake, smiling so wide that his cheeks began to hurt.

Ten minutes before Spain and his brothers were supposed to arrive, Seborga took one last lap around the house to check all the details. “Food warming in the oven, check. Cake in the fridge, check.” He peeked out the kitchen window. “Lanterns, tent, tables, decorations…” He then left the kitchen and made his way to the living room. “The decorations are up…”

Indeed, they were. Streamers were strung all across the room, balloons were weighed down and floating over top of the couch's side tables and a banner hung over the furniture that wished the two brothers a happy birthday.

Seborga’s gaze settled onto the coffee table, which had a vase of lilies proudly blooming. “Oh, those are gorgeous! Who brought those?”

“We did.” Austria answered, his chest puffed out with pride. “Hungary thought it would be nice to bring the boys some flowers.” His gaze settled adoringly on his wife.

Hungary smirked at Austria. “Making them their national flower was his idea.”

Austria uncomfortably cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed. “Yes, well… yes, it was.”

Seborga laughed at Austria’s discomfort. “Well, it was very sweet.” He peered around the room, the living room full of treasured friends. Invited to the party were all of the former allied powers standing around the room, with the exception of America who was sitting and leaning his elbows on the coffee table. China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and South Korea were all crowded around the coffee table, South Korea laughing at a joke America had just made. Russia’s sisters were attending, Ukraine standing between Hungary and Liechtenstein and Belarus standing by her brother looking like she would rather not be there. Switzerland was perched on a chair muttering something to Portugal, Liechtenstein leaning against the back of the chair. All of the Nordics squeezed onto one couch. The micronations had also come, crowded at the edge of the room. “Everything appears to be in order!”

“It was very good of you to set all this up, Seborga.” England’s words were accompanied by a sincere smile.

Seborga rubbed the back of his neck bashfully as the sentiment was repeated by the guests. “Aww, it was good of you all to come and celebrate my brothers with me. I’m not sure how Romano will react, he doesn’t exactly love surprises.” He felt a buzz in his back pocket, pulling his phone out of his pocket, his eyes widening.

“Something wrong?” Finland asked from the couch.

Seborga slid his phone back in his pocket. “Spain texted. They’ll be here any minute!”

China brushed past Seborga. “Taiwan, come help me turn out all the lights!”

Taiwan sprang up from her place by the coffee table.

“We have to hide!” Monaco stepped forward, crouching behind the couch.

There was a sudden scrambling as everyone tried to find places to hide.

“How do you hide this many people?!” Sealand cried.

“Sealand!” Seborga barked. “You and Wy are small! Hide under the coffee table!”

“There isn’t enough room to hide everyone.” Germany said urgently.

Seborga licked his lips as he tried to think. “Everyone, try and hide behind the counters in the kitchen!”

All the Asian countries moved to the kitchen, followed closely by Norway and Sweden.

Seborga looked around urgently as the lights went out in the living room, eventually settling on just standing against the wall where the door would open. He would just have to pray that they didn’t shut the door to reveal him before everyone stood and surprised them.

As Seborga pressed himself against the wall, he watched America whip his head around in search of hiding spots in the seemingly empty living room. Eventually he sprinted over to a corner and moved a lamp that was standing in the corner. He did a handstand where it once stood. “Someone help me!” America shouted. “I need someone to put the lampshade over my feet!”

Seborga could hear France snicker from somewhere in the living room. “Are you being serious?”

“I can’t feel my face anymore! You think I’m not being serious?!” America whisper-yelled.

Belarus finally stood from behind the couch and jogged over to the corner, pulling the lampshade off the lamp and settling it on America’s foot. On her face was a rare smile. “This is idiotic.”

“Hey, this is genius.” America refuted.

“Flatten your feet.” Belarus ordered. “The lampshade will not be staying straight up.”

“Oh, sorry.” America began sarcastically. “Let me just bend my foot to lie against my frickin’ leg. I forgot I’m a contortionist.”

“If you continue your whining, I can be making your feet bend in that way.” Despite her words, Belarus’ words held no bite.

Japan peeked his head up over the back of the armchair, his brow furrowed into a worried frown. “Please, we are running out of time before they get here.”

Belarus finally just lifted her hands off the lampshade and retreated back to her hiding place.

Seborga shushed the muttering room as he strained to listen. “That’s Spain’s car! Everyone be quiet!” He listened to the car’s engine shut off. Listened to the doors of the car open and shut. Listened to the three converse as they walked from the car to the porch.

“We’d better hurry.” Italy’s voice was muffled by the door.

A key was pushed into the lock and turned. “I will.” Spain's voice promised. “I wanted to get him something before I dropped you off to your place. I borrowed a pair of jeans from him and forgot to give it back to him.”

There was a slight pause as the door opened.

“Hold on.” Romano’s voice said, tinged with suspiciousness.

The door swung open further. Seborga sucked in his gut. If the door bounced off him, his brothers would immediately know something was up. He withheld a sigh of relief as the door stopped an inch from his torso.

Romano stepped in.

Seborga was able to see Romano’s arm.

Romano’s arm was bent, apparently resting his hands on his hips. “You two aren’t even close to the same size in pants."

Spain reached forward and paused for a moment, scanning the room. His gaze apparently settled on America for only a moment before he laughed nervously. “Sure we are! At any rate, it’s not about he pants.” He extended his arm forward, flicking the living room light on.

Everyone sprung out from their hiding places, all shouting surprises and happy birthdays.

Italy sprung in shock for a moment before he started laughing.

Romano jumped backwards, screaming Italian profanity for a moment before he apparently realized what was going on and recovered. A rare belly laugh erupted from him as he saw everyone. “Oh my God."

“This is amazing!” Italy laughed, his eyes darting around to see everyone.

Seborga sprung out from behind the door, clamping his hands down onto Romano’s shoulders. “Surprise!”

Romano spun around, screaming once again. His mouth once again split into a rare smile. “You asshole!” He punched his shoulder. “You weren’t sick at all!”

“No, I wasn’t.” Seborga laughed at his reaction. “I needed to stay behind to set all this up!”

“You did all this?!” Feliciano asked.

“Well, I had a little bit of help.” Seborga admitted.

Romano turned to face Spain, who was still laughing at his reactions. “You were in on this, weren’t you?”

Spain looked down at his fiancé. “Yes, of course I was.”

Italy looked around the room, toeing off his shoes to go greet all the guests. “This is incredible! Thank you all so much!”

The guests gathered around Italy, giving him well-wishes and greetings.

Romano hung back, turning to face Seborga. “Sebastian, thank you.”

“Of course!” Seborga grinned. “I have great older brothers. Not as good of a brother as I am, of course, but…”

Romano lightly punched Seborga on the shoulder with a smirk. “You’re such a brat.”

“Go talk to all the guests! They’re excited to see you!” Seborga waved Romano further into the living room.

Romano smiled to Seborga briefly before he made his way through the ocean of people.

Spain watched his fiancé mingle with the crowd, wordlessly lifting his hand for a fist bump.

Seborga watched America collapse from his handstand, knocking his fist against Spain’s in victory.

“See?!�� America cried victoriously, standing among the shocked concern and carefree laughter. “I told you all they wouldn’t notice!”

The party went on swimmingly. The alcohol Germany and Prussia brought was a huge success, the party moving outside as everyone mingled. The food was enjoyed immensely, Seborga growing slowly more and more bashful as people praised him on his cooking. The real showstopper, though, was when the cake was brought out. Three layers of cake, Seborga’s own recipe. Coffee flavored, yet somehow light. This was a huge success to everyone except for Sealand, who didn’t like coffee. Seborga, expecting this, secretly slipped him some candy under the table for later. Everything went without an issue. No fights, no arguments, no drunken shenanigans (Seborga had France to thank for keeping Spain and Prussia under control). As the night got darker, half the guests began to break away and head home. The small party moved indoors, easily chatting in the living room. They swapped stories about the birthday boys, Germany divulging the classic favorite story of how the brothers learned to use grenades. To Romano’s credit, he took the slight humiliation with grace, the alcohol and pure happiness within him appearing to make him more easygoing. Finally, the evening was winding down and people were finally heading home.

Seborga watched as Germany and Canada escorted Prussia to the door, who was now so tipsy that he could hardly walk.

“You’re a great brother, you know.” Prussia slurred, Germany catching him as he stumbled.

Germany righted him, apparently used to his antics. “Yes, I know.”

“And you!” Prussia whipped his gaze to Canada. “You’re, like, the awesomest boyfriend in the world.”

Canada smiled. “Yes, I know.”

“I’m super serious!” Prussia continued. He tried to slide his shoes on, laughing as he was unable to. “You’re so nice all the time. Especially to me. Which is especially nice since I sometimes forget how to be nice.” He successfully slid on a shoe. “Ha! Got it!” He went limp, as if his bones suddenly lost structural integrity.

Germany grunted in surprise, catching him.

Prussia cackled. “I love you guys, you know that?”

“Yes, yes, we know that.” Germany grunted, apparently growing tired of Prussia.

“Prussia,” Canada said. His voice was rather similar to a kindergarten teacher speaking to a tired toddler. “How about you get your other shoe on?”

Prussia tried to stand. “Yes, of course! Anything for my Birdie!” He slid the other shoe on, smiling dopily at Canada. “The ultimate act of love.”

Canada appeared to be biting back a laugh. “Yes. Thank you, Prussia.”

“Alright,” Germany rolled his eyes. “Let’s get you to Canada’s car.”

“Woohoo!” Prussia stuck his two fists in the air as if he were at a concert. “Hell yeah! I get to go to my Birdie’s house!” As he was escorted to Canada’s car, he continued to shout in German.

Even as the door shut, Seborga could hear Prussia shouting with elation.

Spain laughed, his cheeks flushed. “He’s great.”

“He’s entertaining, at any rate.” Romano said, leaning back against the couch. “Don’t get me wrong, that was a good party. But I’m happy it’s over.”

Seborga too relaxed back in his chair. “Me too.”

Italy grinned. “That was the perfect party, Sebby. You did a great job.”

“Thanks.”

Spain leaned forward. “Seb, I love you, but you look like you’re dead.”

Seborga let out a surprised laugh. “You’re a real charmer, Toni, I can see why Lovino wanted to marry you.”

“Part of my natural charm, I guess.” Spain rested his arms on the back of the couch.

“Whatever you say, bastard.” Romano rested his head against Spain’s arm.

Seborga heard the door open, turning his head to watch Germany step into the house with a tired sigh.

“That bad?” Italy asked with a grin.

“Everything was fine until he started singing.” Germany shuffled into the living room, collapsing on the couch next to Italy. “I knew it was all over when he started singing ‘The Model’ by Kraftwerk at the top of his lungs.”

Italy laughed, Seborga and Spain joining in. Romano was apparently so tired that all he could muster was a smile.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Germany asked Italy.

Italy smiled. “A walk sounds nice. It’s so gorgeous outside!”

Germany stood. “Good, good. Let’s go.” There was a practiced casualty to his movements. A practiced casualty that was not executed well. His movements were almost stiff, his expression awkward.

“Okay,” Italy smiled. “No need to be so stiff, sir. All the guests are gone.”

“Right.” Germany tried for a casual smile, but it looked almost as if the smile caused him pain.

Italy shook his head with a grin. “You’re going to need a week of isolation after today, aren’t you?”

Germany laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he went to go put his shoes on. “Guess so.”

Seborga determinedly faced forward as the two put on their jackets and, conversing, left the house. He didn’t want to give anything away.

Romano lifted his head slightly as the door shu. His brow was slightly furrowed. “Let’s see if the potato bastard can get the proposal out before he spontaneously combusts.”

Seborga laughed. “I’m sure he’ll be able to.”

Spain smiled lazily. “Remember when I proposed to you, Romano?”

“Of course.” Romano smiled. The grin was full. Unguarded. “The dinner, the fashion show, the gelato under the stars. All of it. The proposal in the gazebo.”

“Did he ever tell you what we did after I proposed, Sebastien?” Spain asked.

Romano groaned. “Stop.”

“We danced.” Spain smiled at the memory. “Your brother may not look it, but he’s a romantic.”

“Don’t know what else you would expect out of an Italian.” Seborga said.

“There wasn’t any music, you know.” Spain continued.

Romano cringed, covering his face with his hands. “Stop.” His words were muffled, but no less desperate.

“But he didn’t care. I just hummed for us and we danced.”

“You never told me that part, Lovi!” Seborga teased with an impish grin.

“Because I would rather die.” His hands still concealed his face.

The three of them conversed for a while, the passing of time causing the conversation to be stunted and awkward. awkward. The three of them were each distracted by thoughts both positive and negative. Of course, Seborga was almost certain that Italy would say ‘yes’. But as time passed longer and longer, Seborga couldn’t help but realize that if they were taking this long to return, then the outcome likely wasn’t positive. Ten minutes turned into twenty minutes, which turned into half an hour, which eventually became 45 minutes.

“What’s taking them so long?” Romano asked.

Seborga frowned. “You don’t think Feli didn’t accept the proposal, do you?”

“Of course not.” Romano shook his head. “He loves Ludwig too much to.” Regardless, he looked at his watch, his expression slightly unsettled.

Spain bounced his leg. A nervous habit of his. “Everything’s probably fine.”

Regardless, the forty five minutes turned into an hour. A few minutes after the hour passed, the door opened.

Seborga kept his eyes fixed pointedly ahead, despite the fact that both Spain and Romano watched the door swing open. He knew Italy probably accepted the proposal. But if he didn’t, he wanted to afford Germany and Italy some privacy.

Shoed feet slapped against the hardwood floor, someone bolting into the house. Italy popped into the living room, his face alight with happiness. “Guys, guys, guys!”

“What?” Spain asked, smiling. To those watching without context, the expression would be of pure curiosity. But to one who knew what the three knew, it was impossible to miss the mingling relief in the toothy grin.

Germany too walked through the door, his face alight in what could only be described as pure joy.

Seborga choked back a laugh as he noticed Germany’s hair was almost completely undone, the collar of his shirt was wrinkled, and his face was flushed. Even with his mouth stretched in a wide grin, his lips were red and very obviously swollen.

Italy bound into the room. Upon closer inspection, his face was equally flushed, his lips equally swollen. He held his hand out, displaying a gold engagement ring. “We’re engaged!”

“What?!” Seborga cried, standing and clutching Italy’s hand to look at the ring.

Italy laughed. “It’s okay, guys, Luddy told me you guys knew.”

“Of course he did.” Romano shook his head, but he was smiling. “Congratulations, Feli.”

“Thank you!” Italy rubbed his cheeks. “I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt!”

“What took you guys so long?” Romano asked. “We were starting to get worried!”

Germany stepped forward, still grinning. “I was so nervous, we rounded Spain’s yard several times before I actually asked him.”

“Then he asked me, I said yes, and we walked around the yard a few more times before we finally came back in to tell you!”

“Mm-hmm.” Seborga crossed his arms. “Just walking around the yard.”

Germany cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at Spain and Italy’s brothers.

“To be fair,” Italy said. “We did walk around the yard a few times to talk a bit.”

“Congratulations, you two.” Spain grinned, stepping forward to shake their hands.

“Lovi, we’re both engaged at the same time!” Feliciano cheered, springing forward and hugging his brother.

Romano stiffened at the hug, apparently being in a good enough mood not to immediately pry his brother off of him. “Yes, we are! But I’m having my wedding first.” The words held no bite.

“Now all you have to do is get engaged too, Sebastian.” Germany joked.

Seborga smiled to himself, looking down at his shoes. “I dunno’. Don’t think I’m the marrying type.”

“That’s what Romano said.” Italy reminded him. “Look at him now!”

Seborga laughed in agreement, though he internally rolled his eyes. He knew there was a certain pressure to be with someone as a romantic country. He did enjoy flirting every now and again, but the part he liked about it was how people's faces would light up at the attention. He had never been one for romance, and he doubted he ever would be. He was too elated about the new engagement, however, to pursue that conversation with his brothers. About half an hour later, Seborga was about ready to fall asleep in his chair.

“Getting a little tired, Sebby?” Spain asked.

Seborga opened his eyes, not realizing he had allowed them to close. “Hmm? I guess so.”

“Will you be okay to drive home?” Germany asked from the couch. “I can drive you, if you want.”

Seborga shook his head. “No. I’ll be fine. The wind will keep me awake. I should head out, though, before I get any more tired.”

“Bye, Seb!” Italy stood and wrapped his arms around Seborga. “Drive safely.”

“I will.”

Romano too stood. “Thank you for the party, Seb. It was wonderful.”

“Of course!” Seborga responded, smiling.

“Just promise me one thing.”

“Sure.”

Romano smirked. “Never do it again. You look exhausted.”

Seborga laughed, shaking his head. “If again, not for a long time.”

Spain stood, also hugging Seborga. “Sleep well tonight. You’ve earned it.”

“I plan on it.”

Germany also stood, stepping forward. He awkwardly raised his arms up for a hug.

Seborga smiled, sticking his hand out for a handshake. “It’s okay, Big guy. I know you’re not a hugger.”

Germany looked relieved as he shook Seborga’s hand, giving a close-mouthed smile. “Thank you. Drive safely.”

It took Seborga only ten more minutes to pull himself away from his siblings and future brothers-in-law, him rolling his motorcycle out of the garage with relief. He pulled on his helmet, starting up his motorcycle. He was glad it was a short drive to his house. While he normally would have parked it in his garage, the sky was completely clear. He settled to just park it in his driveway. He was exhausted. Seborga slipped out of his jacket, hanging it on a peg on the door. He walked into his hallway, past the living room and out to his white wooden deck. The moon was full, the beams reflecting on the waves as they lapped onto his white-sand beach. He finally let out a long, slow, exhausted sigh. “You killed it, Sebby.” He closed his eyes, relishing the lack of voices. The lack of phone calls, the sounds of crepe streamers, the smell of the ocean rather than the smell of baking cake. The sounds of the water moving against itself, mixing and mingling with grains of sand relaxed him and slowed his heartbeat. For a moment, he stood and relished the sound of being completely alone.

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monstersdownthepath · 5 years ago

Text

Spiritual Spotlight: Rovagug, the Rough Beast

Chaotic Evil Qlippoth Deity of Destruction, Disaster, and Wrath

Domains: Chaos, Destruction, Evil, War, Weather Subdomains: Blood, Catastrophe, Corruption, Demon, Hatred, Rage, Storms

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 124~131

Obedience: Smash an assortment of items worth at least 10 gp, preferably something fragile, aesthetically beautiful, or with significance to a good-aligned deity (particularly Sarenrae). Roll in the shards of the destroyed items, howling and shouting praises and curses invoking the Rough Beast, until the shards draw blood and your lungs ache. Benefit: Gain a +4 bonus on attack and damage rolls against objects.

It is impossible to hide your faith in the Great Destroyer, is what I’m saying. I know I haven’t said anything, but look at that. Do I need to? You need to destroy a pretty hefty (for a commoner) handful of goods, and you need to do it incredibly loudly and incredibly obviously. You don’t get to pray quietly to Rovagug, no, you have to SCREAM your praise until your lungs ache while rolling joyfully around in shards of broken garbage. The Obedience specifically requires you to draw blood with the shards, as well, so no cheating by getting a hoard of pillows and blankets and ripping them to bits. You need to put the whole bed in there, frame and all!

Thankfully, actually obtaining enough items to use for this Obedience is rather simple. Normally player characters wouldn’t look twice at enemy gear if it wasn’t enchanted, but the fact of the matter is that even the bargain-basement leather armor is worth 10gp and just two or three simple weapons will add up to 10gp quickly. A normal adventurer that frequently goes on missions will have no shortage of scrap to shatter and discard, and even a single goblin camp can often produce enough of a yield to carry you for several days. The only real problem is whenever you rejoin society, as worship of the Rough Beast is often severely punished; there’s a reason most of Rovagug’s cultists live in the wilderness, where their screaming and smashing won’t draw attention.

The benefit is only truly useful if you go for a sunder build, otherwise, you’ll likely very rarely ever see its full power aside from the odd bit of door-kicking and rope-snapping. For people who enjoy destroying enemy gear while it’s still on them, though, a +4 to both damage and ATTACK rolls is incredible.

Boons are gathered slowly, typically gained at levels 12, 16, and 20. However, you can take the Diverse Obedience feat to gain them at levels 10, 14, and 18 instead, and worshipers of Evil deities can enter the Evangelist, Exalted, or Sentinel Prestige Classes as early as level 8, which allows you to gain the Boons as early as levels 10, 13, and 16 if entered as soon as they’re available. Unless you take Diverse Obedience or enter the listed prestige classes, you may only take the Exalted Boons.

-----

EVANGELIST

-----

Boon 1: Agent of the Beast. Gain Protection From Good 3/day, Align Weapon (Evil only) 2/day, or Magic Circle Against Good 1/day.

We’ve gone over the general usefulness of ProFroGo and Align Weapon before, with Align Weapon getting the short end of the stick here since creatures with DR/Evil are much less common than ones with DR/Good. However, since you’re an agent of Rovagug, you’re likely to be accosted at some point by Good Outsiders and their agents... at which point it’s much better to have Protection, or even Magic Circle in your arsenal.

ProFroGo is also a little less useful than ProFroEv is because, strangely, Good Outsiders are more likely to wield weapons than Evil ones, so they’re less inclined to use the natural attacks that ProFro would normally thwart. They’re also significantly less likely to possess or control you, BUT they ARE likely to use forms of charms and compulsion to steer your path, making ProFro equally as valuable against Evil or Good.

The only thing we really need to discuss, then, is the usefulness of Magic Circle Against Good. As a defensive measure it’s impeccable, though frustratingly easy to bypass with ranged attacks, but using it to bar the path of enemy Outsiders and summoned beasts or to serve as sort of a “bouncer” at a gate to brush charms and compulsions off your visitors and guests is quite strong. The power to snare creatures called into the plane for days in order to interrogate it or negotiate with it is a more niche use, but you never know when you’ll have to catch an enemy caster’s called bodyguard or stop an angel from smiting your team.

Boon 2: Destructive Spell: Whenever you cast a spell that deals hitpoint damage and has a casting time of 1 standard action or less, you may instead make its casting time a full-round action. If you do, its save DC is increased by +4 and any 1s rolled for the damage become 2s.

Evangelists can technically be from any class, meaning this ability has a chance to do absolutely nothing.

If you CAN cast spells, though? Please note that this ability has no per-day limit. None. It is an at-will ability. Just an at-will +4 to the DC of any of Pathfinder’s infinite number of spells which deal hitpoint damage at the cost of giving up your move action for the round. Do I really need to go into how Big that is? Probably! Do I want to go into how Big that is? Not really, since it’s an otherwise pretty boring ability.

It’s insanely strong, mind, especially if you can get yourself into a spot that’s difficult for your enemies to reach (such as in midair), though there is a bit of fiddly wiggly weirdness in that as written it technically affects spells like Create Pit. Spells which create a hostile environment rather than doing direct damage, Talk it out with your DM ahead of time! Until then, though, enjoy the free +4 to the DC of your Fireballs, Harms, and Disintegrates.

Boon 3: The Destroyer’s Gifts: You gain an extra spell slot of the highest level you can cast. This spell slot may be used to cast your own spells, or you may use this slot to hold a spell from the Chaos or Destruction Cleric Domains. You may cast from the Domains only once per day.

Oh yeah extra slots! Evangelists really get the Boring But Practical gifts here, but this one is at least made extra spicy by the addition of giving your character access to a pair of Cleric Domains. By the time you get this spell, you should be able to cast level 7 or 8 magic, meaning you can use Word of Chaos, Cloak of Chaos, Earthquake, or Disintegrate. A few more levels and you can fit in Implosion or Summon Monster IX! I’d personally prefer SM9 in my list, since Rovagug’s alignment means you can summon a Nalfashnee or Glabrezu to your aid.

Note, though, that unlike most Boons, these are not spell-likes. You must provide components for them! However, this also means that you can slap additional Metamagic feats onto them should you desire! The spell slot is typically devoted to the highest level magic in the Domains but if you, say, have Heighten Spell or wish to Quicken a Dispel Law or Shout, you can totally get away with that. I mean you can also be boring and just stuff your own spells in there, but that seems like a waste of a good Summon Monster IX or Extended Earthquake.

-----

EXALTED

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Boon 1: Destructive Force. Gain Break 3/day, Bull’s Strength 2/day, or Shatter 1/day.

I’ve spoken on Shatter before (scroll down to Thuskchoon) but, to complete my incomplete thoughts from that page, being able to destroy an item weighing up to 100lbs (which rises by 10 per level) without making any obvious moves can be invaluable if you use it just before a fight breaks out to obliterate enemy armor, shields, or weapons, but it has no effect on magical items, making it fall off as you level up.

Eeeehhh, I’d just go with Bull’s Strength most of the time. Break, well, breaks a single item in Medium range, in that the item itself gains the broken condition, which isn’t super special when you compare it to Shatter, which destroys the item outright if it fails its save. Break requires you to cast it again on something that’s already broken in order to destroy anything, and is negated by a successful save. There IS the benefit, however, that Break CAN target magical items, letting you shatter staves, wands, and enchanted equipment... but I don’t know if that’s a good use of your action.

I’m still not fully convinced either of them are worth taking over the less funny but more useful Bull’s Strength, though, since Break is also negated if the item succeeds a Fortitude save against a level 1 spell (meaning its DC is Cha mod + 11), and attended items can use their attendee’s saves. If you’re going to risk everything on a Save or Suck, just use Shatter to blow up their equipment with only one spell.

Boon 2: Bestow Destructive Smite. As a standard action, you may expend one use of your Destructive Smite ability and grant it to an ally within 30ft for 1 round. Your ally uses your level to calculate the damage of their smite. If you do not have access to the Destruction Domain, you gain access to Destructive Smite, but only for your personal use.

This ability has a lot of problems, but the biggest and most egregious one is that it has no text that changes the fact that Destructive Smite’s power only scales with your Cleric level, NOT your Exalted level. Without DM fiat, your smite will be stuck dealing only an underwhelming 4 damage unless you slow down your Boon’s progression in order to take more levels of Cleric.

Even without acknowledging that oversight, giving up your standard action to let an ally deal anywhere from 4 to 12 extra damage (provided they connect with all of their attacks) is absolutely pathetic. Using the smite on yourself at that point is barely worth it, and it’s a free action!

TERRIBLE showing, Rovagug. Please tell me your Exalted aren’t completely screwed...

Boon 3: Once per day, you may summon a pair of Nyogoth Qlippoth to your side. You gain telepathy out to a range of 100ft to communicate with them, and they obey your commands perfectly for 1 minute per Hit Dice you possess. The qlippoth don’t follow commands that would cause them to act in overtly good or lawful ways. Such commands not only earn terrifying roars from the creatures, but could cause the nyogoths to attack you if the command is particularly egregious.

Oh! Ok, then! There IS a cherry on top of this terrible mud sundae! It’s not really worth putting up with a million levels of lackluster abilities, but looking at the ability in a vacuum? It’s great!

Nyogoth are semi-tanky bruisers that can attack from both a range and in melee with acidic projectiles and biting maws, and have a bit of utility in their 7/day Fear to scatter enemies and their 1/day Acid Fog to provide cover and cleave through crowds of foes. Since they’re immune to Acid damage, they can also wade into their own fog to malice creatures inside... And their numerous limbs make them wonderful at grappling their victims and keeping them inside the acidic vapors.

And speaking of grappling: their 30ft flight speed and 16 Strength means they can technically pick enemies and allies up to suspend them in midair. In a pinch, they can make a poor-man’s hot air balloon to get over gaps... Just significantly slimier, much toothier, and way more filled with acid than a normal balloon. I don’t think it’s worth serving as Rovagug’s Exalted to summon them, but they at least don’t feel like a letdown.

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SENTINEL

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Boon 1: Inexorable Death. Gain Doom 3/day, Death Knell 2/day, or inflict Serious Wounds 1/day.

DOOM is a funny spell to me. You’d expect it to have a terrifying and dramatic effect, but it’s a level 1 spell that makes the target shaken. For minutes at a time, yes, but shaken as a status effect has starts to become less and less effective around level 6, and you have to be at least level 10 to gain this ability. It’s also negated entirely by a save, making an already-weak spell even less useful.

Death Knell, as always, is one-dimensional but useful in that single dimension. A Sentinel will likely have more success merely coup-de-gracing a downed foe, but Death Knell grants you several benefits that make casting it actually worthwhile. An extra bit of temp HP and a boost to Strength that makes you slightly more deadly, and as the beefy and armor-clad Sentinel, you can afford to get into touch range to cast this spell even if other enemies are still around. It’s especially useful against bosses with medical mooks!

Inflict Serious Wounds deals a decent 3d8+10 (max +15) damage, but most of the time it’s not worth giving up your attack action to do. Death Knell is actually the choice here for once, unless you have some Undead in your party (or someone with Negative Energy Affinity)... though only really if you have no other way to heal them.

Boon 2: Wicked Claws. Your fingernails grow into horrible, chitinous talons that resemble insectoid spurs, or the fangs of a terrible beast. You gain a pair of claw attacks that are a primary natural attack which deal 1d8 Slashing damage if you are Medium, 1d6 if you are Small.

I said it before and I’ll say it again: Rovagug is current reigning king of Boring But Practical Boons. An extra pair of natural attacks never hurts (you, i mean; it’ll hurt everyone else plenty) and assures that you’re always armed even if disarmed. You even get heightened base damage when compared to normal claws of your size category! The downsides are primarily that it’s only a standard claw attack, though; they aren’t magical and get no tricks like piercing DR or adding Rake or bleed.

Unfortunately, that means that by the time you get this, you’ve likely already got a powerful and enchanted weapon, relegating the claws to a single extra attack you get to make whenever you full-attack. It’s an extra 1d8+Str damage made at your highest BAB, but it’s nothing grand.

Boon 3: Disintegrating Blow. 1/day as a free action, you may designate your next attack as a Disintegrating Blow. If the attack hits, the target is affected by the Disintegrate spell as if it were cast by a Wizard whose level equals your HD (max 20). If the attack misses, the ability is wasted.

All RIGHT! Finally, one that’s not boring! ... or practical.

Granted, you likely have ways to guarantee that your attack will connect, but its’ a 1/day that... deals...

32d6 untyped damage (average: 105).........

and you can shoot it via an arrow, sling bolt, or even a thrown rock.............

hwoof.... Alright, alright, I’ll agree on this: This is NOT a case of “1/days negated by a save that I Do Not Like” because slapping someone for a whole 32d6 (+2d6 per level) damage ON TOP of your weapon’s damage is pretty beefy. Even if they succeed their save they take 5d6 damage, turning it from a huge chunk into what is basically an irresistible Sneak Attack, and you still have all your other attacks behind that one to back it up. Plus, think of the intimidation factor! Just running up to someone and hitting them so hard they stop being.

I’ll throw Rovagug a bone here and say that I enjoy this ability even if it’s only 1/day, especially since it works with the claws he’s gifted you (as well as any other natural attacks you possess, including ones gained from Improved Unarmed Strike), which allows you to slap someone so hard they turn to dust.

You can read more about him here.

#Spiritual Spotlight #Sinister Spotlight #spider #spiders #insects #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons

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clansayeed · 4 years ago

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Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 8: The Big Easy

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

The Amulet's trail ends in the supernaturally rich city of New Orleans. Still reeling from hers and Kamilah's first real fight, Nadya, Lily, and Adrian travel to the French Quarter to see old friends and meet some new faces.

[READ IT ON AO3]

She meant to fake-awaken from the nap of all naps when Lily returned from her minibar excursion. Unfortunately though Nadya’s just a little too lost in her thoughts; which delays her reaction by enough of a fraction of a second for to be fooling absolutely nobody.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

Nadya combs her fingers through her hair. She may not have actually been asleep but tell that to the nest that somehow spontaneously manifested where she was resting against the wall of the plane.

She plasters on her best ‘ditzy secretary’ face. “Do what?” she asks; pitches her voice just a tad but that’s overselling it.

All credibility pretty much flies out of the window and down the however-many-thousand-feet to the ground below. And without a parachute, poor thing.

“Well first of all don’t gimme that look. I helped you invent it, remember?” Only Lily could chide her enough to actually make Nadya feel bad while simultaneously inhaling a complimentary bag of Korean BBQ chips. “Dos, you shouldn’t bottle it all up inside. And don’t you dare say you don’t know what I’m talking about. I will shove potato chips down your bra.”

Nadya blows a strand of hair up, but it falls back down right in front of her eye. Great, even her hair is out to get her.

“Please don’t. I only packed one.” And Adrian and her will never be close enough friends for her to feel comfortable asking him to swing by Target for a quick bra buy.

“Same girl, same.” But even as Lily kicks up her boots and makes herself comfortable the intent is clear. She’s going to get Nadya to open up somehow, some way, and most likely some time before they start to descend on New Orleans.

After all she’s practically locked in between her seat and the fancy table by vampire thighs of steel.

Crunch. Crunch. Crun—

“I’ll talk about it when I’m ready, Lil’, okay?”

Cruuunnn—

“I promise! Pinky promise, blood oath, anything!” Just please don’t keep chewing like that. She’s very near begging on her knees.

After quickly wiping the flavor powder off, Lily holds up her pinky finger expectantly. Nadya takes it with her own. She means it too, villainous torture methods aside. Some people went their whole lives and then some without someone to care about them as much as Lily cares for Nadya — she knows this and really, her gratitude is unwavering.

But she’s still a little too raw on the inside (and out; her tear ducts may have gone into permanent early retirement by now) to just bring it all up. And so casually, too.

The cabin lights catch on the chains of her charm bracelet. Little sparkles that draw Nadya in; pull her down deep in velvet the same black as the midnight sky, away from the stale plane air and back to New York.

Back to Kamilah.

And Lily — well, she’s Lily. Of course she notices. Just like she quickly acts and lowers their still-linked hands before Nadya suffers the unpleasantness of choking on her heart again.

“I’d say lets head back there —” she jerks her head from the direction she came from, “— and get you a little tipsy for your troubles, but for some reason showing up to a place like New Orleans already drunk feels like blasphemy.”

“And I wouldn’t feel comfortable with the plan if you weren’t completely sober, Nadya.”

The girls look over across the aisle to where Adrian leans back and away from his laptop, a slightly admonishing look in his eye. Nadya blindly seeks out the open bag of chips while offering what she hopes is a smile that says “Yes, of course, I totally agree,” even though a margarita at the very least sounds comforting.

“Actually, since it’s out there, how are you feeling?”

Lily tenses beside her. It takes him a moment to realize what he’s done but Adrian tries to take it back so fast Nadya’s somehow the one who ends up with emotional whiplash. “I mean — about this; the…” he sighs, “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

Nadya elbows Lily before she can get a word in. “It’s fine,” she tells Adrian with a smile — and if it’s a little strained well… they can’t blame her.

People fight in relationships sometimes. It’s not ideal, but it happens. Does Nadya wish she could throw open the emergency hatch on Adrian’s private jet (freaking out which happened loudly, quickly, and before they had ever lifted for takeoff) and fly her way back to Kamilah to try and work things out by sheer force of will? You betcha.

Is she going to let that stop her from doing what needs to be done to get this Amulet? No. God willing; she and Kamilah will have plenty of time to cool down, talk, and see where they were supposed to go from the place they had left at. But that’s only the case so long as Nadya, Lily, and Adrian get to the Amulet of Nero before Gaius does.

Though… none of them can still fathom the literally microscopic chances that had decided to work in their favor. No really, Lily ran the numbers. By all accounts they should have been prepared for a voyage around the world, sometimes in multiple places (and according to the simulation, at multiple times).

What were the odds that not only was this mythical once-lost-to-history Nadya-was-literally-kidnapped-to-find-it-but-it-only-took-their-collective-squad-like-two-weeks-and-a-couple-all-nighters Amulet of Nero in the States, but that it was currently in the hands of—well—a friend?

Apparently the odds were pretty freakin’ good.

“I’ve failed the universe.”

“Lily, stop.”

“It’s been three days! And all I could come up with was a list of the players from Kavinsky’s private rich-jackass tournament. A list, Nadi’.”

“It’s far more than we had previously Lily,” Adrian had said with a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder, “and for that matter — its more than Gaius could get on his own. So if anything you’ve outdone him; and trust me when I say that doesn’t happen every millennium.”

While it wasn’t the best pep talk in the world it had been enough to get Lily back on track. Her finger scrolling on her mouse faster than humanly possible until she got to the names they needed. Eight billion people in the world and they had narrowed it down to ten. Way to go, Lil’.

Adrian started to write down the names in his hasty scrawl — which had just been a waste of time since Nadya refuses to try and read his terrible colonial handwriting and already has a list of her own transcribed. “It’s still more than would be ideal. But I think the four of us should be… able… hm.”

Hm because of the obvious. Because there were only three people in his office. Because Kamilah is following a lead on the whereabouts of Gaius and while one is arguably more important than the other… it’s good to know his movements. Nadya can’t argue with her logic in that.

She knows their enemy better than anyone. And it means she doesn’t have to be in the same room as Nadya.

“Wait — this name, here.” Adrian had pointed at the screen; Lily had slapped his hand away. “I know this one. That can’t be the same man, though, the odds…”

“Who-what now?” Nadya hadn’t recognized the name at all.

LaPointe, C.

“Someone from your past?”

The very recent past; like very recent. Like, Nadya-adjacent recent. And with time maybe-probably quickly running out they couldn’t afford to wait to fill everyone in on all the juicy details. Or, apparently, wait for Kamilah to return from her trip.

Sometimes Nadya catches herself looking around for the familiar comfort of maroon.

Overhead there’s a soft bing from the pilot’s speakers.

“We’re coming up on Louis Armstrong, Mr. Raines and guests. If you could remain seated until we land, your arrangements have been taken care of as requested.”

Nadya’s heart pounds a little bit faster. When Lily reaches out to squeeze her hand she doesn’t reject it one bit.

After all, she’s doing the first leg of this on her own.

“You can do this. You can totally do this.”

Behind her a family of four jostles her chair so hard Nadya almost spills iced coffee slushy all over herself.

“You’ve survived Ferals, and Vega, and Gaius. You kicked butt at ‘Tech-Xpo.’ You’ve eaten French cheese and danced in a corset and you didn’t even ruin a Lacroix. You’re a force of nature, and you can totally do this.”

And remember, he’s just a vampire. If he tries anything just run outside.

“Would Miss ‘Force of Nature’ like a box to go?”

She’s been in the cool shade of the cafe awning for far too long to even pretend like the red in her cheeks is the heat; but that doesn’t mean Nadya doesn’t look up to the sight of her bemused waitress with a styrofoam box and the bill in her hand.

Nadya must look as embarrassed as she feels because she doesn’t even get to answer before the woman gets in a small laugh. “Whatever yer psychin’ ya’self up for, honey, keep at it. More people could stand to give themselves a pep talk.”

“Th-Thanks.”

‘Bonnie’ (as per her name tag) grins with all the boisterousness she’s had since Nadya first took up her table. When she winks it’s full of energy; enough to jingle her large earrings. Nadya kind of wants to adopt her as a weird aunt? But that might just be the all-nighter talking.

Without hesitation Nadya pulls her purse close and takes out one of the (ridiculously unnecessary) large bills Adrian had given her before she got into her cab. Bonnie’s eyes widen, protest at the ready, but Nadya won’t hear it. “I won’t need the box, but thank you.” She all but has to force the hundred under the woman’s thumb.

If she has another one of the mini mountains of powdered sugar on top of her beignets she’s actually gonna burst. The coffee is totally coming with her, though.

Nadya weaves her way first out of the cafe’s closed-off seating, but it somehow only gets worse from there? New York is full of people; she knows this. But she’s gotten used to working nights, to the emptiness of Raines Corp. after dark — so having to literally fight her way through the sea of tourists is a jarring experience to say the least.

You can do this. You can do this.

Yeah, because her last motivational mantra worked out so well?

This isn’t a vacation (and if it were she’d be too stressed to enjoy it anyway) so she soaks up as much as she can. The ride from the airport to the French Quarter, every street sign and avenue and cool-looking building covered in ivy. A few of the early-riser tour groups she’s passed by have mentioned ‘the history of the city’ and Nadya is kind enough to let herself imagine — after all this is done — coming back here with Kamilah and learning it from someone who was probably there.

It’s the most optimistic feeling she’s had in… too long, actually.

She puts it to good use in her ‘I’m Totally Not Nervous’ act all the way from Jackson Square to the small museum off the side of the St. Louis Cathedral. Smiling to the entrance attendants is a little bit easier. So is plucking up the courage to ask a security guard where she might find the offices to visit a friend.

That no one would think a short girl with glasses almost as wide as her face is up to no good doesn’t hurt, too.

If Nadya’s got her orientation right this is definitely the right office. The window — if there even was one — inside would be facing the stonework of the next door church. Perfect for avoiding direct sunlight.

She takes care in not stepping on top of a small, neatly-wrapped bouquet of orchids in front of the office door when she knocks. Picks it up for good measure because they really are a lovely shade of purple and maybe they remind her of better times.

Of rare blue lotuses and… happiness.

Nadya waits… and waits… and waits… and knocks again? She doesn’t know what else to do. Admittedly they all might have been a little too focused on making sure Adrian and Lily had a place to rest during daylight hours.

For the record Nadya still isn’t comfortable with abandoning her friends to sleep in the cargo hold of a plane — private or not.

This was a dumb idea. Of course he’s not going to be in his office in the middle of the morning. He is a vampire.

But just before Nadya can put down the flowers and pull out her phone, there’s a thud on the other side of the door.

“Kathy, is that you?”

Uh… “No? I’m…”

“Yes yes, payroll said they’d be sending someone up,” another noise follows — this one more like the distinct collision between feet and office desks of which she is all too familiar, “just a moment!”

Nadya realizes she doesn’t have anything prepared to say when the door opens.

When he had arrived late to the Council Chamber for Adrian’s trial, Cadence Smith had looked the very picture of flustered and in a panic. Nadya was pretty familiar with that, too. But apparently that was only a fraction of his anxieties because…

Well to put it in one simple word — yikes.

Cadence pushes his glasses back up his nose to scrutinize her properly. His tie hangs in a messy and loosened knot around a collar half-unbuttoned and his sweater is untucked and bunched at the waist. If she looks down it’ll be too obvious, but it doesn’t even look like he’s wearing shoes.

He pushes the blond mess from out of his eye-line with his entire palm and leaves a smeared trail of black behind — which makes sense given the large and aged newspaper folded in his grasp.

“You’re not from payroll.”

But Nadya smiles up at him, dishevelment aside. “No, I’m —”

Then he notices the bouquet in her hands. Immediately—almost frighteningly—his entire being goes cold; harsh.

“I thought I told you people to stop delivering those.”

“Huh? Oh, no—no I —”

“I don’t care if he’s bought the lot in advance. I. do not. want them. Christ — there’s no way a flower shop is this dedicated to customer satisfaction!”

“Wait, Mister Smith, if you lemme —”

“Burn them. Next time I’ll have security escort you out. Good day!”

The door slams closed in her face before Nadya can get another word in. She’s left there, dumbfounded, mildly offended, and the good mood from her sugar high now soured.

“Mis— Cadence, please!” She knocks again, and again, and quickly screws politeness in favor of pounding on the thick wooden door. “I know you can hear me! I’m not from a freakin’ flower shop!”

But it’s an office; not like he has anywhere to run. He’s just straight-up ignoring her.

She so does not have time for this.

“Adrian sent me!” Nadya shouts at the top of her lungs. If Cadence doesn’t hear her someone must — maybe she can get through to them instead.

But as it turns out she won’t need to.

Even through the blood pounding in her ears she can hear the door unlock. When he faces her this time, Nadya’s ready.

“Adrian Raines sent me. These —” she shoves the flowers through the door into his chest; then points at her feet, “— were already here. I don’t know what’s got you so rude but I didn’t fly all this way from New York to be —”

“You’re the secretary; the one from the trial who convinced them to let me testify.”

Nadya huffs. “Well—yeah, and I’m also the one who’s really tired of being interrupted.”

The more he recognizes her, the more Cadence softens until some semblance of the man she remembers is all that’s left. He has the decency to look embarrassed at his outburst.

In Nadya’s opinion he shouldn’t talk like that to anyone; let alone some poor person stuck delivering flowers. Makes sense why they were just abandoned in front of the door.

“Oh, and I have a name. It’s —”

“Nadya; I remember now.”

Her nostrils flare and Nadya actually feels the telling-off as it starts to rise from her belly to her lungs. But Cadence realizes his mistake as soon as he makes it; he ducks his head quickly. “I’m — forgive me. That was… I just remember who you are, is all.”

Only after she eyes him up to determine his sincerity does Nadya finally nod; once, and curtly. “Fine.”

The vampire turns the orchids over in his hands; plucks a petal crumpled in their not-quite tussle from the stem and lets it fall like a path to his doorstep.

“A… situation, shall we call it, with a lapse in my judgment has led to, well, these.” He smiles; strained and not quite seen in the eyes. “A fellow who can’t take a hint.”

“I get it. My heart goes out to you.”

“Thank you.”

“But we need to talk; like, now. It’s important.” Nadya nods at what little she can see of his office behind his towering figure. “May I come in?”

He hesitates a beat. “I’m a bit… deep in a research project at the moment. Will this take long?” Then, as an afterthought; “You said Adrian sent you — is he here, as well?”

“Yes, he’s waiting out the sun. But we’re already behind as it is and I don’t want to waste a whole day. It took us long enough to get this far… we don’t have the time.”

“You’re being a bit vague, Nadya, even for me. What are you ‘behind’ on, exactly?”

Yeah — she’s being vague and she knows it. Feels like somehow the fact that they’ve not really had to talk about the massive panic their situation is worthy of because they all know the stakes has been a blessing. Nadya knows she has to explain things to get Cadence’s help.

It’s just that saying it — actually telling other people — makes everything that’s happening very very real. And being real makes it dangerous.

It has already been dangerous, says a voice in Nadya’s head that sounds enough like Kamilah to make her lower lip wobble a bit.

“Nadya?”

Not-Kamilah in her head is right. Nadya sucks it up and looks Cadence dead in the eye.

“I need the Amulet of Nero and I know you were the last person to have it — when you beat a man named Kavinsky at poker in Vegas two years ago.”

Cadence defies the laws of nature and somehow manages to look paler than he already was. Which means she’s in the right place.

“How do you… actually, it doesn’t matter. The Amulet is useless to humans.”

“Maybe. But I’m guessing it’s not useless to a psychopathic power-mad vampire king who’s spent almost three thousand years trying to take over the world.”

An eerie calm comes over them as he takes in the weight of what she says.

Cadence steps aside wordlessly. When she crosses the threshold he stops and checks either end of the hall in a way that totally screams suspicious.

When he’s satisfied they aren’t being watched, he closes the door behind them.

He asks her to start ‘from the beginning.’ But does she really know where that is? Does it begin when Gaius finally revealed himself after a year of working in hiding in secret, or does it begin from a time only a few know and fewer remember?

“I’ve found the beginning is often the place you think of first,” Cadence answers her; he sets down a tray and tells her to be careful to not burn her hand on the offered mug of tea, “that, or the place where you enter the story as a character in your own right.”

It’s all very oddly domestic in here; Nadya wouldn’t be surprised to find out he doesn’t bother with an apartment and just lives here instead. Even if the mess is giving her the headache to beat all headaches.

The ceramic warms her from the tips of her fingers outward. It’s hot as heck outside but if there’s one thing she’s learned from Gerard its that the soothing powers of tea are beyond things as silly as the weather.

“It’s funny you say something like that.”

“Why would that be?”

“I don’t really know where I come in. Not… not me, as I am, anyway.” She probably—no, definitely—sounds like she’s a few marbles short of the bag. But it’s nice to be able to admit something so personal to a stranger. Someone who won’t judge her — or if he does it’s not that big of a deal.

“I’m not sure I know who I am lately. It’s… hard to explain.”

Cadence brushes the barest touch of his fingertips over her knee. He looks hesitant, like he’s not quite sure he has her permission, but she doesn’t say no to it. It’s like the man who was so cruel to her in the doorway was a skin shed in the safety of his home.

“You don’t have to explain a thing. I know the struggle better than anyone should have a right to.”

Nadya remembers then; Cadence’s testimony on Adrian’s behalf — exactly why Adrian had been in New Orleans in the first place. They had been so close to the Amulet and didn’t even know it.

She’s a little embarrassed by it, to be honest. “Right, I… I’m sorry,” shaking her head, “that was insensitive of me.” At least she knows her own name.

But the vampire shrugs it off and sips his tea. “The struggle of identity is innate in every species throughout time. If I’ve learned one thing; it’s that.”

It makes Nadya laugh softly. “You must have gotten along with Adrian when he visited.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re both kind to the world.” Kind to others; strangers. But not to yourselves.

Cadence opens his mouth as if to respond; but whatever he plans to say he thinks better of it and changes their course.

“Let’s get back to the Amulet and this… vampire king.”

Which is probably for the best.

She tries to start where things make the most sense — recently, with the Amulet and Gaius’ plan. But that leads to explaining how he was locked up in the first place, which leads to the founding of the New York Council and the Clans, and somehow jumps to the events of the Awakening Ball, and Nadya doesn’t blame him in the slightest when Cadence holds up a finger and grabs a notepad from his nearby desk to start jotting everything down.

It’s a full transparency kind of deal because if Adrian trusts him then Nadya does, too. But some things sound crazy no matter how casually she spins them. So Nadya keeps certain things to herself; the whole Bloodkeeper disaster, her fight with Kamilah, the fact that when she looks at him she can see a woolen uniform dusty with dirt and with embers still clinging to the thick material and a little cut on his forehead that definitely healed a hundred years ago or more.

And to the man’s credit he takes everything in stride. Nods and scribbles down her tale faster than Nadya could ever hope to do herself. He even asks questions here and there; things you’d expect more in a classroom than, well, here.

Though Nadya really doesn’t grasp the enormity of it all until she blinks and realizes her eyes have grown accustomed to a lack of light. She can’t even see the small alley street below his window anymore. Jeez, it’s sunset already?

“And that’s why we need the Amulet of Nero; if Gaius gets to it first and there really is a vial of blood from the First Vampire inside…”

Cadence nods. “It’s an ‘end of the world’ sort of deal. Well… for humans, anyway.”

Did he really need to put it like that? Way to remind Nadya that all her friends are vampires and would probably make it out of everything at least mildly intact.

“So where is it?”

“Where is what?”

Really? “The Amulet of Nero.”

“Oh, well… about that.” No, Nadya thinks in a panic — because nothing good ever started with ‘about that.’

“You have it —” —hello instant nauseating panic, my old friend— “— Cadence please tell me you have it.”

“Had; past tense.”

There’s not quite a word to describe the noise that grumbles out from deep in her soul but it’s certainly not a whoop of joy.

More like an eeeughh of… urrrrghh.

Which is why she’s a little relieved her phone screen lights up blinding and interrupts them before she can start pulling her own hair out.

While Nadya grabs it to read the latest message, Cadence stands and pops his neck in two places. “I have a few calls to make myself, actually. Another tea?”

“No thank you.”

He leaves her with the office door open just a crack.

In truth Nadya wants nothing more than to stretch out on the couch and take a power nap.

No rest for the wicked.

She thumbs her screen unlocked to read a text from Adrian.

[TEXT]: It’s sunset and we haven’t heard from you in a while. Is everything okay? -A

Well — she managed to train him out of the ‘sincerely’ at least.

[TEXT]: I’m surprised I dont have like 5000 txts [TEXT]: shes still asleep isnt she

[TEXT]: No. Her phone died. You didn’t answer my question. -A

[TEXT]: I’m fine [TEXT]: here w/ cadence

[TEXT]: Great news. He’ll give us the Amulet? -A

She doesn’t want to lie to him. But there’s really no good way to soften the blow.

[TEXT]: :|

[TEXT]: What does that mean? -A [TEXT]: I showed it to Lily. She isn’t happy. We’re grabbing a car now. I’ll convince him to give it to us if I have to. Did you explain what’s at stake? -A

Nadya scoffs — kind of very rightfully offended. “No,” she says aloud, but she’s alone so her phone suffers her snark in silence, “I told him I wanted it for my Halloween costume. Yes I explained what’s at stake, Adrian Raines. Ugh.”

So of course that’s the perfect moment for Cadence to return with confusion knit in his brow.

“Is everything okay?”

“Not really.” Nadya peels off her glasses and rubs her eyes. “Just — Adrian’s on his way. Tell me where the Amulet is and we’ll get out of your hair.”

She can’t tell if the pensive look on the vampire’s face is him trying to decide whether or not to help or something else entirely. All she can do is pray, really. Or hope Adrian can convince him. And if neither of those work maybe Lily can threaten him or something.

They should have brought Jax along. Katana and all.

“Actually, send him somewhere else, would you?” Cadence rips off a corner piece of paper and scribbles an address down before handing it over. “That’s where I planned on heading anyway. And this way I won’t have to go into the explanation twice.”

He’s been nice so far; friendly and helpful. And Adrian trusts him — if she hasn’t brought that up enough times.

So why does unease start to tangle and knot itself in her gut?

“Or maybe we could all go there together.”

“Why not save the trip?” He brushes hair out of his eyes with a genuine surprise. “You said time was of the essence.”

“It is.”

“Then I don’t understand.”

“I just think it would be better to wait.”

“But —”

Thunk. Thu-Thunk.

A knocking at the door cuts both Nadya and Cadence off at the same time — but Nadya’s pretty sure people knocked nearer the top of doors.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk!

With a long-suffering sigh, the vampire wheels himself around in his chair and makes for the door. “What have I told you about kicking my door? The museum said they won’t be paying for the third replacement.”

THU—

“Christ, Kathy!”

Cadence yanks the door open with more than a little force. The hinges creak and there’s the slight cracking sound of splintering wood — even with his back turned Nadya can see the disgruntled slump of his shoulders. “Great, now look what you’ve made me do.”

“Stop being so easy to mess with,” says Katherine as she enters; beaming immediately at Nadya around the towering blockade of a man. “He’s so fun to mess with, isn’t he?”

All the tension in her extinguishes like a blown-out candle. Leaves Nadya smiling because she didn’t even know how reassuring the sight of a familiar face would be until, well, she’s right there.

Katherine shoulders her way around Cadence and holds out her arms. “Bring it in!” And Nadya most definitely brings it in. Even if her hurry to hug the Nighthunter sends a small stack of papers scattering to their feet.

“Oops…”

Cadence groans. “It’s fine, it’s fine…” And he shoos Nadya away to pick it up himself.

Very little about Katherine seems to have changed over the last year. Though technically Nadya could say the same for herself. The hunter now sports a fancy scar along the edge of her jaw and she must have just recently given her hair a fresh shade of violet but she’s still Kathy and it’s an honest relief.

Wait a second. Nadya pulls back to hold her at arms’ length.

“I tried calling you before we took off from New York. Why didn’t you answer?” Truthfully, they thought she must have been out of town.

Katherine scoffs, mock-offended. “I have a life too, you know. I’m not always looking at my phone.”

“Indeed,” grumbles Cadence at their feet, “but last night you weren’t ‘having a life’ so much as trying to break your own arm.”

What’s worse is that Kathy doesn’t try to deny it. She just laughs at Nadya’s suddenly pale expression. “Don’t worry kiddo,” she teases, “I was just taste-testing for a bartender friend. Had a little bit too much, you know how it goes. I thought I could arm wrestle a stone troll.”

Blink. Blink-blink. “I’m sorry a who-what?”

“A stone… well you’ll see. C’mon Cade, pick it up later. We’ve gotta get going,” with a fist curled in his sweater she hauls the man up against his wishes, “don’t even worry about it. Not like the place isn’t still a historic hoarder’s nest.”

Nadya definitely agrees — but she’s too polite to do so out loud.

Hold on, though. “You know where we’re going?”

Cadence’s left eyebrow arches slowly. “You’re suddenly on board now?”

“Well —”

Katherine interrupts her with a finger and a quick smack to the vampire’s upper arm. He doesn’t even flinch. “Context, Cade, remember? Taller, stronger man tries to take you somewhere only he knows of in an unfamiliar city. What do you do, Nadya?”

“You kick him in the groin.”

“Exactly.”

He looks between the women in brief silence; but they aren’t exactly wrong. “Fair point. I’m sorry for making you feel unsafe, Nadya.”

“It’s okay.”

Katherine claps her hands together quickly. “Come on. I don’t really think you want to leave Raines undefended against Garrus for long.”

“Who is —” you know what, probably better that Nadya waits to learn, “— Lily’s with him, it’s okay.”

“Your friend the newbie vamp, Lily?” asks Katherine. When Nadya nods, though, she’s the exact opposite of reassured. The hunter barely gives her time to grab her purse before she’s tugging Nadya out of the office by her sleeve.

“Oh god — we have to go.”

“What’s the matter? Are they in danger?”

“No,” Cadence laughs behind them; the fact that he’s far more at ease than Katherine though doesn’t make Nadya feel any better, “they’re fine. But Garrus has been perfecting a shooter to give my kind an actual buzz.”

Drunk Lily. Nadya remembers her well… well enough to shiver bodily. Because drunk Lily was one thing.

Drunk vampire Lily, though?

“Maybe we could hurry up a bit.”

If I’d known there were going to be drinks involved I might’ve not been so against it, Nadya thinks, and immediately foresees a great concern regarding the eventual state of her liver by the time she’s (hopefully) settled into a more peaceful life post-Gaius’ World Takeover 2020.

By the time the three of them make it to the Graveyard Shift (which was, in her humble opinion, the height of tacky non-humor — and according to Kathy if she wanted to keep her tongue in her mouth she had better keep that thought to herself) Adrian and Lily are already there.

Lily hugs her first, then goes for Katherine with equal gusto. Cadence and Adrian, however, exchange nothing but a crisp businesslike handshake.

“I was glad to hear your name had been cleared,” the blond vampire says with a hint of shame. Then — watch out world — Adrian crosses the professional boundary and clasps a hand on his shoulder.

“Kamilah told me about how Vega tried to keep you from testifying. I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am that you risked daylight travel for someone you barely knew.”

“You helped me all you could. It was the least I could do.”

At the bartop in the very back a young woman dressed head-to-toe in black leather and lace whips out a (black) fan and flutters it rapidly. She eyes the pair bright and mirthful. “Good ghoulish gods, the sexual tension there is enough to feed a dozen succubi!”

They pull away from each other after a long and uncomfortable pause.

Then Lily’s tugging Nadya forward with maniacal delight. “Ohmygod, Nadi’, come meet Ivy. She’s literally the coolest person on the planet.”

Behind them Adrian splutters; “Wait, Lily —”

And she should really be worried when Katherine joins in; “Ease her into it — ah shit.”

Because ease her into what, exactly?

Lily stops them in front of Ivy’s stool. “Technically not a person, remember?” chides the stranger; and then things start to make a bit more sense.

What Nadya had thought were tattoos or maybe was a decorative grey bodysuit underneath Ivy’s clothes just… isn’t. It’s skin. It’s greying, veiny skin and the muscles beneath that Nadya can see with a little too much ease for her personal comfort. Yes, Ivy is wearing black lipstick, but there’s not a whole lot of lip for the stick. And while the way her eyes seem to actually burn with a strange and pinkish flame is very cool and very up Lily’s alley, Nadya can’t really look at them for long without feeling like the long shadows cast in every corner of the bar are watching her.

“Dude,” stage-whispers Lily while tugging at her sleeve, “Ivy’s a revenant. Victorian zombie goth chick, Nadya!”

Ivy holds up a veiny finger. “Actually that’s a bespelled revenant, sweetie.” And the only solace Nadya seems to be able to take right now is that when the woman smiles she still has a full set of teeth — though some look a little… pointy.

“We’re a little different because we still have our souls… they just don’t belong to us and aren’t in our bodies and will forever burn in some eldritch pit or another.”

Words that awful should never be said so cheerfully.

“But enough about me,” like she isn’t practically preening under Lily’s adoration regardless, “ever meet a fae? This is Garrus; he owns the Shift.”

The revenant jerks her hot pink head behind the bar where the bartender has been devoted to messing with something out of sight — until now.

No, Nadya would have answered if she wasn’t having way too much new information thrown at her like a bag of big supernatural bricks, I haven’t met a fae. She hasn’t, she’s sure.

Since she’s just as sure she would have remembered meeting anyone equally pale — somehow glittering, with the same unnatural symmetry in the face that was both pleasing to the eye and unnerving in impossibility. With eyes as clear as the sky and actual pointy ears that definitely weren’t bought from Lily’s preferred cosplay crafters.

Yup; no way she could forget that.

This is Nadya we’re talking about, however, so she swallows down all of her (many — many) feelings about the current situation and turns on her heel to where Adrian has come to stand just shy of behind.

“I’m gonna need a glass of wine.”

Adrian shakes his head with a small laugh. Back the other way Garrus calls out a cheerful — and slightly Irish(?) so that’s a thing — “Coming right up, darling.”

“Just… one glass though, Garrus.” Adrian feels the need to emphasize, even if its with a glint in his eye. “Trust me. She’ll try to go for the bottle.”

“I handle this crap the way I handle it, Raines.”

“Then don’t complain about the hangover this time.”

A beat. “Yeah fine, one glass only.”

For a bar in New Orleans at night the place is a little barren, but nobody else seems to mind so Nadya doesn’t think about it twice. It gives them more opportunity to spread out at the very least rather than having to lean halfway over the bar to talk to one another.

Ivy joins Katherine and Cadence in the crescent-moon booth closest to the actual bar. Freeing up stools for Adrian and Nadya — though Lily quickly pulls away to jog up a tightly-coiled metal staircase by the back door to, apparently, check on her charging phone and call up Maricruz.

“When did you add the second floor?” Adrian asks Garrus; who now is moving so fast Nadya’s pretty sure he’s getting a little blurry around the edges.

He doesn’t even pause to think. “We finished it a couple of years before the turn of the century. After you and your lady friend had such a hard time finding accommodations I took a real stock in the idea of places more… suitable to our folk.”

Adrian gives an “aah” of understanding, but if he thinks he can just get away with that without being smacked in the arm he’s very mistaken.

“Ow?” He tries to look affronted down at Nadya — it doesn’t really work.

“You’ve been here before?”

“Briefly, yes, in the later 19th century. Why are you so surprised?”

She gives a little shrug. “It just doesn’t seem like your kind of scene.” Yes, the Graveyard Shift is rustic, charming; antique. But it’s also dusty, rickety, and Nadya really doesn’t trust the way those stairs screamed through Lily’s every step.

“Well — yes and no. I enjoy this place immensely; you should have seen it back in its heyday.” He pauses; probably hopes Nadya will say something so he doesn’t have to keep going. But she knows a ‘but’ when she hears one.

“But… we weren’t here for a good time. We were here on Gaius’ behalf to settle some… unsavory territorial disputes between two vampire families.”

“Who’s ‘we?’”

His lips purse. “Kamilah and I.”

Garrus whistles shrilly behind them; breaks the chance for Nadya to go all melancholy before she even starts with a glass tumbler in front of Adrian and a wine on her end. “Thank you,” since she’ll definitely need it, now.

Cadence clears his throat into his fist. “Now that we’re all caught up perhaps I should finish what we started in my office?” He looks Nadya level in the eyes. “I told you I no longer had the Amulet of Nero?”

Adrian looks between her and Cadence with a rising surprise. She hadn’t gotten to that part, exactly, in her texts… thanks.

“What do you mean you don’t have the Amulet?”

“I thought that pretty self-explanatory.”

“Then why are we wasting time here?”

“I don’t have it because it didn’t provide what I needed.” And just like that he and Katherine are back on friendly terms. He swings an arm over the booth behind her and she accepts it with a sigh. “I had heard of the Amulet’s long history with vampires and thought that perhaps it had some sort of charm or hex that could prove useful to me.

“Objects have memories like people have memories. Only people — they live, remember, and die. Their memories are lost forever. But objects are a little like vampires. They just keep remembering.”

Adrian feels her still beside him. He reaches out to her; throw an arm around her shoulder, hug her; whatever gets spun on his roulette wheel of Uh-Oh, the Human is Freaking Out Again. This time, though, Nadya pushes his hand back. Touch is kind of the last thing she wants right now.

Why? He asks with his eyes.

Nadya looks away only because her own eyes want to give him an answer.

Because that means I’m an object, too.

“All that collective history should have been compiled in the Amulet,” Cadence continues, “but none of the witches I hired could help me unlock it. I even prostrated to the Garden Elders, you know.”

Judging by the way their new friends all react Nadya thinks that wasn’t a good call on his part.

“Before they lost the single brain cell they shared?” Ivy asks with a derisive snort. Garrus gets a chuckle out of it at least.

“Indeed. But they couldn’t even…”

Why did he trail off into silence? Doesn’t he know nothing good ever comes of trailing off into silence when it comes to matters of the supernatural?

Cadence’s eyes go wide. If he had a beating heart — he definitely wouldn’t have it now. “Mary Mother of Christ. I think that’s around the time when the Elders pulled the witches from the Quarter.”

He looks between Ivy between Katherine between Garrus; all of whom have gone just as silent and still. Something haunting them behind the eyes just out of sight.

“Do you think the Amulet did something to them?” Adrian asks — and Nadya’s glad to know she’s not the only one royally confused.

The blond vampire nods. “Of—Of a sort. You see, last year’s Mardi Gras was a bit… murder-y.”

“That was only a couple of weeks before the Awakening Ball — and my trial.”

“Lucky we made it out then.” He squeezes Katherine’s shoulder. The look on her face punctuates his optimism with a restrained barely.

“The Garden Coven — the witches of the city — their Elders went a bit…” Cadence tsks for a delicate turn of phrase.

And the hunter at his side doesn’t bother. “They went cuckoo bananas. They used a born necromancer, summoned a bloodwraith using the bones of an equally cuckoo bananas Nighthunter known as the Bloody Hand, and thought they could control him in the form of a vengeful spirit to kill the city leaders and install themselves in power.”

And she thought being chased by Vega was terrifying? Well, it was. But on some level Nadya’s kind of glad she didn’t have to touch any of this with a ten foot pole.

“I know I’m gonna regret asking this…” in fact she regrets it before she even finishes, “but why would they do something so… awful?”

“Fear is a powerful motivator.”

Ivy drums her nails on the table. “One of the Elders, Millet, was really handy with a deck of tarot. But the thing about prophesy — if you don’t have the gift, you just don’t have it. So the forces you call upon sort of… call upon you right back.”

Cadence’s whole world is being rocked; Nadya can totally sympathize. “The Amulet would have been the perfect conduit for Millet’s foresight. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it then.”

“Would it have saved anyone’s lives?” Garrus challenges him to consider it. Cadence does, but no answer at all is all the answer they need. “Shame.”

“So they used the Amulet of Nero and got a vision that drove them mad with… fear. I’m missing something.”

The gears are turning in Adrian’s head so fast steam might start squealing from his ears. “Whatever had been seen would have been tied to the Amulet’s magic.”

He and Nadya lock eyes. The same thought at the same time.

Whatever they foresaw would have had to do with vampires — with the Amulet — with Gaius.

Cadence snaps his fingers, eyes alight and a half-smile of understanding starting to grow on his lips. “The darkness coming has something to do with vampires!” Though when the weight of his words settles in, they’re decidedly less a revelation and more of an omen.

“Oh dear…”

“Before we get—ahem—any more ahead of ourselves,” Adrian cracks his neck and mulls over how best to go forward, “Cadence… what were you trying to open the Amulet for? You said it wasn’t useful, what do you mean?”

The man shrugs. “It was an object with great importance throughout much of recorded vampiric history. If you’ve forgotten that’s… kind of my thing. I hoped whatever lie within — whatever had the kind of power to draw us to it — might be able to jog a memory or two.”

“But it didn’t.”

“I’ll never know. I never got it open.”

“So you got rid of it?” Adrian’s voice raises more than a pitch or two. “If the Amulet couldn’t help you personally it wasn’t worth keeping safe?”

“What? No. But it took quite a bit of money to acquire, none of which was mine.”

As he starts to understand where Cadence is going with his story, Adrian leans forward with his elbows on his knees.

“You took a loan from Carlo. Which means it was left to Isadora when he passed.”

Who are Carlo and Isadora?

“Speaking of…” Katherine looks between Adrian and Cadence expectantly. It doesn’t bode well that Cadence shifts as if trying to inch away at the same time that Adrian takes a long drink.

The Nighthunter groans in frustration. “You guys are idiots!”

Cadence splutters — waves an arm at Nadya from afar. “Well I wasn’t exactly expecting them, was I?”

“I don’t care! That’s the first thing you should’ve done when you found out he was in town. But let me guess — you made tea.” Which is, unfortunately a fact the vampire doesn’t deny. “God, you are such a damn stereotype sometimes.

“And what about you?” She rounds on Adrian next. “You’re smart… ish. More responsible, I guess. Tell me you’re not as dumb as he is. Tell me you called her at the very least.”

From her edge of the booth Ivy looks like she’s taking way too much enjoyment in this. When Adrian’s head hangs she squeals in delight and claps with the promise of more yelling.

“I had more pressing matters to think about.”

“So that’s a no.”

“Correct.”

“That’s a no,” Katherine repeats; growing louder with every word, “to telling the most powerful vampire in the city about your little trip — and with not one, but two vampires staying in her territory for longer than a fucking layover?”

Some clarification on the rising panic bubble blowing up inside her would be awesome, but Nadya has a feeling she’s just not gonna get one.

“Forgive me for caring a little more about the danger of the most powerful vampire in the world more than Isadora de la Rosa.” Adrian almost snarls — Nadya swears she hears the glass in his grip creak ever so slightly.

Judging by the look Kathy gives him she doesn’t regret one syllable; not a single one.

“Its not my forgiveness you’ll need.” She grabs Cadence’s arm and turns it at an awkward angle to look at his watch. “Lucky for you Flechette just opened.”

“‘Flechette?’” Nadya asks — and can’t help but feel like an owl at this point.

Katherine snorts. “Flechette is the front for the city vamps; and they’re headed by Isadora de la Rosa.”

But this is a good thing. They know where the Amulet is. Sure, it sounds like there might be a little arguing along the way but… surely this Isadora woman will be totally understanding, right?

“You don’t have to come, Nadya.”

She looks at Adrian and really can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Of course I do.” Her eyes narrow. You know what I went through for this. “Why would you think I wouldn’t want to?”

“Because Flechette is a fetish club.” Oh.

Well… yes, yes she’s still going. She’s been to worse places than a fetish club; the Shrike, the Shadow Den, kind of… how bad could it really be?

“Well, at least Lily will enjoy it.”

#bloodbound #choices bloodbound #adrian raines #playchoices fanfiction #bloodbound fanfiction #bloodbound mc #mc: nadya al jamil #lily spencer #oc: cadence smith #katherine nightbound #garrus #ivy #krom #cal lowell

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caravanslost · 6 years ago

Note

34 and 47 :)

Damen/Laurent, Not A Date, Vacation Fic

Setting:

This fic would involve a story within a story.

It would begin at Damen and Laurent’s wedding, in a modern AU.

It’s an autumn wedding, in the early evening, under a peach sky.

Imagine, if you will, a big-ass wedding marquee. Rather than fairy-lights, the roof of the marquee is festooned with lush, leafy branches that hang high over the guests. Everyone is seated at three long tables that run down the length of the marquee. Down the middle of each table is a burlap runner, with alternating arrangements of mismatched flowers and candelabras.

I haven’t thought about this at all, in any kind of detail, as you can tell.

Nikandros and Auguste are designated Best Men, and engage in lengthy custodial negotiations about who gets to do what. In the end, they agree that Nikandros will organize the bachelor party, and Auguste will give the wedding toast.

The fic wouldn’t be about the story of the wedding. The fic is Auguste’s speech.

Scene

The speeches take place after dinner but before dessert. Auguste stands up, and although he clinks his knife against his champagne flute, our Sun King has most of the room’s attention before he’s completely upright.

Laurent and Damen are just over the right side of tipsy. Damen has his arms around the back of Laurent’s chair. Both their cheeks are rosy, and they’re smiling as they have been for most of that day.

But Auguste? Well, he’s smiling too.

Except like the devil.

He begins with typical schtick - introduces himself; thanks the guests for coming out; promises to keep it very brief; teases at a whole host of inappropriate stories that he knows, but that he’s left out of the speech on pain of death from Laurent.

And then he says something of the effect of, “But, since we’re here … I do have a confession to make.”

Everyone sits up a little more attentively, at that. Damen and Laurent exchange confused glances, look back to Auguste, and divine nothing from his cheshire smile.

And then, Auguste begins telling the story of how Damen and Laurent got together.

Two years previously, Auguste and Laurent planned a weekend getaway in the middle of March - they were both busy men, and quality brotherly time was sorely lacking. A hotel was booked, activities were planned, and schedules were cleared.

Only — one of Auguste’s colleagues falls terribly ill at just the last moment, rendering him unable to attend a Very Important Conference —

— which leads the Faculty to rope in Auguste, to attend in his place —

—- which means that Auguste can no longer attend the meticulously planned weekend getaway.

[At this point during the speech, Auguste pauses, takes a sip of his champagne, and turns to the happy newlyweds. He asks them if they see where he’s going with this, and they shake their heads. So he continues.]

Anyway, Auguste and Laurent have already spent all this money on the trip —

— and it would be such a shame to cancel the whole thing altogether; and Damen (who’s Auguste’s flatmate at that point in time) just happens to have that entire weekend free; and Laurent gets along so well with him — so, really, Auguste feels that sending Damen in his place is just sensible.

Auguste then begins to recount the milestones of that trip that led to the couple getting together by the end of that weekend. [He wasn’t there for any of them, of course, but they’ve been recounted to him enough times that he feels like he was].

Like how they get to the Airbnb to dump their bags and find, instead of two separate double beds, one single Queen bed.

And how at the degustation dinner that night, for some reason, they’re led to private dining room with roses on the table, lit exclusively by candles. I haven’t decided whether I want someone to come in and serenade them with a violin.

Which forces them to swear up and down to the waiter constantly, between each of the nine courses, that this isn’t a date, we swear to god.

And he just looks at them like, “Sure, Jan.”

And how the four-hour hike the following morning leads them to this secluded little waterfall, with its own little lagoon, where Laurent refuses to swim because he’s quietly shy about Damen seeing him in his swimwear, which Damen deals with by wrestling him into the water.

Etcetera, etcetera, ad infinitum.

At this point in the speech, Auguste takes an intentional pause, timed for perfect dramatic effect.

[And then, he says something a little like this - which I would edit far more heavily in an actual fic, of course.]

“My confession is this: there was no ill colleague. There was never any conference. In fact, I had never planned to go on the trip at all. I had booked it all with the ulterior motive of sending Damen in my place. Why, you might ask? Well, dear guests, when your brother and your flatmate spend the better part of a year making moon eyes at each other over your head, you learn very quickly that you have a breaking point.”

[By this point, I like to think that the rest of the crowd is howling with laughter. Meanwhile, Damen and Laurent are staring at Auguste like he’s slapped them sideways to Tuesday.]

“Now —,” he continues, relishing his audience’s responses, “a less patient man than me might have let them reach the inevitable conclusion in their own time. Unfortunately, I’m not a patient man. So I booked the accommodation with very specific directions about the sleeping arrangements. And I booked the dinners with very specific directions about the ambience. And I booked the excursions to isolate you both from the rest of the world, in the hopes that one of you might finally, finally say something.”

“And if we hadn’t?” Damen pipes up.

“Oh, believe me —” says Auguste. “I planned for that too. There would have been an intervention the moment you returned home. It would have embarrassed all three of us. But luckily, you came to your senses.” He finishes, beaming slyly at both of them. He raises his flute in their direction, and the entire marquee follows his lead.

“Tonight, on this, the happiest of occasions, we raise a toast to Damen and Laurent. To your union, to your joy, to your future.”

Laurent, heart fit to burst by this point, raises his own flute to his brother. “And one to you, you asshole cupid, for getting us here.”

[Prompt List!]

#captive prince #damen #laurent #trope mashup #thank you to everyone who's prompted me so far - I'm excited about several of the upcoming ones :D #they're getting progressively sappier though #I will concede that

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leelee10898 · 6 years ago

Text

For you: Chapter 9 - What I never knew I always wanted.

Chapter Inspiration: What I never knew I always wanted - Carrie Underwood. @blackwidow2721 Thanks for the song, I am legit obsessed. Rating: Fluff, Angst and a little bit of NSFW mixed in Summary: Will Leo patch things up with Aria’s dad? Its the moment we have been waiting for, we find out what the twins are.

Catch up here Master list, if you would like be added to the tag list, let me know.

***********

Aria woke early the next morning to the smell of bacon in the air. “Mom’s cooking breakfast.” She salivated, licking her lips. She looked over a Leo peacefully sleeping next to her. She didn’t want to disturb him so she slid carefully out of bed. She tip toed across the room grabbing a pair of maternity jeans and a top throwing them on, and slinking out of the room quietly.

“Need any help?” She asked her mom walking into the room. Her mom smiled at her, “your dad would love some of your french toast. I’m about done with the bacon and eggs.” Aria cracked several eggs into a bowl, adding milk, cinnamon and a splash of vanilla whisking them all together. She buttered the skillet and dipped the bread into the mixture, throwing it onto the hot skillet. “It smells delicious in here.” Leo came into the kitchen “you snuck out to sneak bacon didn’t you Love?” He kissed her lips. “You two are so cute.” Linda gushed. “Have you ever had Arias french toast? You know she makes the best around.” “ I have Mrs Hale.. er Linda.” Leo corrected himself. “ And you are right about that, best I have ever had.” “Good now, you take this and sit on down.” She handed Leo a plate and ushered him to the dining room with John. John gave Leo a stern look. “Good morning Mr Hale.” Leo sat down. “Yeah, good morning.” John muttered as Linda placed a plate of food in front of him. They ate in silence before John got up and went out to his work shed. Aria and Linda joined Leo eating and talked about the gender reveal party that night. They cleaned up breakfast. A short time later Ellie arrived, and the women got ready to leave. “Do you need my help? I could come with you guys.” Leo offered. “No, you can stay here, maybe help John out in the shed. Hes been tinkering with that thing and he can’t seem to get it to start. ” Linda grabbed her purse. Leo gave Aria a pleading look. “It’ll be ok, this will give you time to smooth things over with my dad. Remember, don’t grovel, maybe put all those years of king lessons to work.” She giggled placing a kiss on his lips. “If I am dead when you get back, remember I love you.”

Leo walked outside to the shed, he noticed John tinkering angrily at a dirt bike. “Need some help with that?” Leo asked walking into the shed. John looked up “oh it’s you. No offense kid but you don’t look to know your way around a motor if it bit you in the ass.” Leo chuckled “I may know a thing or two. That a YAMAHA YZ250? 2007 by the looks of it. Great bike.” John started at Leo in disbelief. “What’s going on with it?” “Um the damn thing won’t kick over, I have tried everything and it wont start.” John grunted. “May I?” Leo motioned to the bike. John nodded his head “be my guest, but i’m telling you I have tried everything.” Leo grabbed some tools and started tinkering around before pulling out a spark plug and examining it. “Yep, see that? Its wet.” He showed John. “ Do you have any extra spark plugs?” He asked. “Yeah top drawer on the bench.” John motioned over to a wooden bench. Leo rifled through the drawer pulling out a new plug. He put it in and pulled the bike down kicking it to life. “Well I’ll be damned.” John shook his head. “You surprised me. Maybe I miss judged you a bit. But it still doesn’t change what you did to my daughter in the past.”

Leo shut the bike off. “Listen Mr Hale, I know I screwed up. I hate myself everyday for what I did.” Leo started, John sat there, arms crossed allowing Leo to speak. “I was the crown prince of Cordonia, I was the heir to the thrown. My father forced me home, forcing me to leave her behind. I never want to leave her.” He paused, trying to regroup himself, his emotions getting the best of me. “ I wanted a better life for her, then court. Turns out she was destined for it anyway. I had planned on asking her to marry me.” His eyes never leaving Johns. Johns mouth flew open. “My father found me, in Paris, told me that she would be a target, a commoner wouldn’t stand a chance. He scared me into leaving her, to protect her. I was a fool and listened.”

“Your father sounds like an ass.” John grunted. Leo chuckled “yeah, he was. Somewhere along the way he changed.” “I never expected to find love. I was destined for an arranged married of sorts, and then Aria came into my life life and set my world on fire. I thought of her every single day. Fate brought us back together, I will spend the rest of my life protecting her, loving her, and treating her like the princess she is.” John nodded. “John it means so much to Aria for us to get along. And I want that as well. I came here not only for the party but to ask two things of you. One, to ask you for your forgiveness, and two to ask for her hand in marriage.” Johns mouth flew open again. He did not expect that.

“That took a lot of guts, to admit your mistakes. And you proved to me today that you’re more then just a spoiled royal brat.” He chuckled. “So Leo, I forgive you. And I will grant you my blessing to Marry my daughter.” Leo reached out his hand to shake John’s. “Thank you sir.” “No boy, we hug in this family.” He pulled Leo in for a hug patting him on the back. “Now Tell me how you know about fixing bikes.”

A while later Aria, Linda and Ellie returned. Leo and John came walking into the house laughing with each other. Aria’s eyes filled with tears of joy. “Hello Love.” Leo pulled her in kissing her. “Why are you crying?” He pulls her chin up with his finger. “You were laughing with my dad?” She sniffled. “Yes love, we worked it out. Everything is fine.” She threw her hands around Leo kissing him fiercely. “Ok, ok. I just got him to like me, and now you’re trying to get me killed.” He chuckled. They spent the whole afternoon preparing for the party. Ellie and her mom really outdid their selves. The whole house was decked out in blues and pinks. Enough food and deserts to feed an army. Aria and Leo ran upstairs to change before the guest arrived. Aria sat on the bed in her underwear and bra. “Are you ok Love?” Leo knelt down in front of her, kissing her stomach. “Yes, just a little on edge I guess. I need to find a way to relax, calm my nerves.” She sighed as she ran her fingers through his dark blonde locks. A sly grin forms on his face as he slowly kisses up her thigh. “ I know a way to calm your nerves.” he breathed into her leg.

“What are you doing Rhys? I thought you said you wouldn’t have sex with me in my parents house.” She whispered. “I did, but I never said I wouldn’t lick your pussy.” The electricity coursed through her body at his words as he slid her panties down her legs. His fingers spread her folds as his soft lips found her sensitive bundle kissing it lightly. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “ I swore I would take care of you, no matter what. ” he breathed into her center. As he lightly kissed her clit. “I say relieving some tension is just what you need, wouldn’t you agree love?” He continued to kiss her center. “Mmhmm” she softly moaned as she squirmed her ass closer to him. His tongue flicked her throbbing clit, her hands grasping his hair as she pulled his mouth closer to her center. “Fuck Leo, mmmmm.” She whispered, trying hard not to scream out like she desperately wanted. “His tongue continued to swirl her clit as he pumped two fingers into her wanting center. Her legs shook as she came undone, giving into her climax. "Fuck, Leo, oooooh.” She squeaked as she fell back onto to bed, chest heaving. Leo stood wiping his face. A smile plastered on his face “Feel better?” She stood up pulling her panties up, leaning up kissing him. “Much. Now let’s go find out what were having!”

Most of the guest had arrived by the time they got down stairs. Ellie had a few games rigged up for the guest to play. As Aria walked around her parents living room she found the chart and betting table. “Ellie.” She called her over. “Are you taking bets like our babies are horses?” She questioned her best friend. “No, Ari. See its a pool. Once we find out the sex of the goldfish, everyone will place their bets. The winner will get a gift card for dinner and a movie, and the rest of the money goes to the babies. It’s a present sweetie.” Ellie explained. “Can I get in on that too?” Leo chuckled. Aria shot him a point look as she slapped his chest. “See, even their father likes it. And you know these people around here are gamblers. Why not get something for the kids out of it.” She chuckled. “Ellie.” They heard Linda call from across the room as she pointed to her wrist “oh right.” She cleared her voice “If I can have everyone’s attention.” She stood up on a chair. “We are going to head outside now to do the reveal. You were given a paper with either an A or a B on it when you got here. All those who got an A follow Linda and grab a confetti cannon from her basket. Those who got a B, follow me and get a cannon from Maxwell.” She shouted “Maxy honey, raise your hand.” Maxwell raised his hand. The groups separated and Ellie and Linda set them all up outside by A’s and B’s.

Aria and Leo head outside. They stood in front of the group anxiously awaiting the reveal. “Ok on the count of 3 group a will pull their cannons DO NOT pull your cannon early people. Group B will follow suit. Everyone ready?” The guest all shouted Yeah. Aria gripped Leo’s hand. Her aunt, who is a photographer, stood off to the side taking pictures. Ellie started counting down. “One…. two…. three.” Pops sounding revealing pink confetti into the sky, Baby A is a girl. A secondary wave of pops revealing blue confetti Baby B was a Boy. Leo dipped Aria back placing a long, sweet kiss on her lips. “I knew it Love. a boy and a girl.” He beamed as he lifted her up. “You were Superman. Now, they need names.”

After receiving congratulations from their guest, most people made their way home. Aria and Leo sat out back with Liam, Drake, Maxwell and Ellie talking and joking. A blonde woman approached the group. She resembled Aria slightly, she wore a lot of make up and dressed much more provocative. She was a little taller then Aria, you could tell they were polar opposites just by looking at her. “Well well well, the princess comes home and of course they throw a party. Jeeze Aria you got fat.” The woman’s words like venom. Maxwell gasped, “did she just call little blossom fat?” He said to Ellie. “Don’t mind her maxy, shes a two bit tramp.” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Well, this is our Gender reveal, for the twins. Your niece and nephew, remember?” Aria gritted her teeth. “Oh, right. You went and got yourself knocked up again.” She chuckled. “Anastasia!” Aria whipped her head towards her sister. “You little bitch.” Ellie jumped up. Maxwell grabbed her hand and led her away. “Hale, you alright?” Drake asked, sensing the tension between the two. “Yeah Drake, i’m good.” Her eyes never leaving Anastasia. “Drake huh, you look rugged and manly, such strong hands.” She eyed him up and down. Drake rubbed the back of his neck nervously, silently thanking god Olivia wasn’t here, so she didn’t kill this woman.

Her eyes shifted to Leo and Liam. “Well, you two must be brothers. You look an awful lot alike.” She walked closer. “Yes, I think us three could have a lot of fun together. ” Liam about spit his drink out. She turned to Leo placing her hand on his chest “I wonder how loud you could make me scream stud.” Aria yanked her hand off of Leo’s chest. “If you touch my man one more time, pregnant or not I will break your fucking cheap manicured fingers, do you understand me?” She was inches from her face. Anastasia stepped back “whatever, i’m out of here.” and turned to walk away. Leo grabbed her waist pulling her close to him. “Ok killer, how about we clam it down.” “Who was that Aria?” Liam asked, still shocked by the scene that just unfolded. “That was my sister, Anastasia. We are not close.”

The rest of guest cleared out, Liam and Drake had to pack and head to the airport. Liam had a few meetings in Italy ahead of the Italian fundraiser gala and would be heading out first thing in the morning. Olivia had matters to attend to in Lythikos, therefore could not make the reveal. She was on her way to Italy now and Drake would be meeting her so they could spend a few days alone together. Ellie and Maxwell went back to their hotel, they would be flying out with Leo and Aria in two days.

Once settled into the room for the night Leo could sense Aria was still on edge. He pulled her down onto the bed, pulling her between his legs. His hands started working the knots in her back “you are to good for me, you know that superman?” Aria sighed. “No Love, it is you that is to good for me. But I am a selfish man, and I will never let you go.” he chuckled as she gave him a playful slap. “So, should we talk names? Got any ideas?” She asked. Leo paused for a moment, “Noah ” he grinned. “ I love it.” she chirped. “hmmm Noah Leo..” she said “and for a girl?” “Do you have any thoughts Love?” He wondered. “Yes actually, I like Natalie Faith.” Leo pulled his body around, placing his hands on her stomach, placing a gentile kiss. “Then it’s settled, Noah Leo and Natalie Faith. We can’t wait to meet you. Daddy loves you.”

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#choices trr #trr fanfic #leo trr #trr #prince leo #duchess aria #leo rhys #leo x aria #for you trr fan fic #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #king liam #rhys brothers

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