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arcane-apathy · 4 years ago

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Part 1

AN: Part 1 of 3 for this Male Naga X Female Reader. I’m hoping to get better at writing short stories, but it’ll take some practice. I hope y’all enjoy!

Warning(s): N/A

You didn’t know why you decided to leave home but your mind was already made up and the U-Haul was already packed. There was no going back now. You didn’t want to be a big city nurse anymore, and you also didn’t want to move back to your hometown. So, this year you decided to move to New Mexico, specifically Peralta. A town of a little over three thousand people. The eastern half of town right on the border of the Isleta Pueblo Reservation, and the Rio Grande River to the west. You could even see the Manzano Mountain Range in the distance.

The drive to Peralta was taxing, but unbelievably beautiful. No wonder why New Mexico is called The Land of Enchantment. You made it to your new home in the middle of the day, and the sun was high above you. Of course you decided to move in the middle of summer, the dry heat smacking you in the face as you got out of the rental truck. You shielded your eyes from the sun as you stared at your new home.

The property was near the end of a dirt road, about a city block away from the local cemetery. But you didn’t mind, in fact it made the house even cheaper. You’d just have to remember to cleanse the house whenever you got a chance. The house was a simple one-story pueblo style house, the faux-adobe outside was an ivory color, and the windows were painted pear green. It lacked the wooden vigas, making it obvious that it wasn’t an actual pueblo home. The house was small, the yard was huge, it had a detached stainless-steel garage, and a dirt driveway. All surrounded by a chain link fence with a gate.

It didn’t take you long to unload the U-Haul, considering you sold most of your things before you moved. You lay your mattress on the bedroom floor and the majority of boxes stay in your living room. You look at the time on your phone, there was still two hours until the U-Haul’s scheduled return time. Un-packing wasn’t the first item on the agenda, some serious cleaning needed to be done before you thought about anything else.

Granted the house wasn’t in horrible shape, but it was obvious that it’s been a few months since anyone has lived in it. The air was stuffy, there was dust on everything, and there was dirt all over the floors. You search for your bag of cleaning supplies that you bought at a Wal-Mart in Albuquerque, well prepared to clean. With the house being so small, it didn’t take you long to clean, so you took your time admiring your new home. The house was made in the seventies, the Spanish-style linoleum tiles in the kitchen being the proof. Yet it didn’t look like it came out of a home magazine that your grandmother would've read. There were some obvious updates throughout the years. Thankfully central air was one of them.

You returned the U-Haul and the towing dolly on time, driving your car back home. You stopped at a Domino’s on the way home, not yet ready to try the local food. Unpacking was the only thing on your mind. And no surprise to you, it took all night. Packing wasn’t easy, because you had to take things from their place and sort them into boxes. Unpacking was another challenge, the amount of times you switched which cabinet your plates went in was frustrating. By two in the morning you had everything put away, there were sheets on your bed, and your eyelids were heavy.

~~***~~

It’s been a month since you’ve moved, and you’ve loved it more that you’d ever thought. Living in your one bedroom house was a dream compared to any other apartment you’ve had before. You’ve gotten over the linoleum in the kitchen, and you couldn’t even imagine the house without it. The yard was easy to maintain, considering it was primarily dirt. You didn’t see much of your neighbors but they were nice from what you could tell. And the quiet was refreshing.

You spent most of your days at work, a health center in the middle of the Isleta Pueblo Reservation. The work was tough, and didn’t pay much, but it was obvious that they needed you there. According to your co-workers everyone wanted to work in the big cities and that smaller health centers, especially ones for the native populations, were constantly understaffed. You became a licensed practical nurse because you wanted to help people, and working in an at risk community fulfilled that goal.

To say you were surprised when your co-worker invited you to her birthday party in Albuquerque was an understatement. Although you didn’t know her that well, you still went. You needed socialization outside of the workplace and the occasional video calls with your family back home. So, you put on your best outfit and did your best to look presentable. The night started off at a restaurant, the food was amazing, and the company was actually enjoyable. After dinner you all went to a bar, so far it was a typical birthday party for a bunch of girls in their twenties.

You stood against the wall, nursing a drink as everyone else in your group dance. Normally you weren’t such a party pooper, but these girls weren’t much of your crown. It was too early in the night to go home, and they all knew that you didn’t work tomorrow so you couldn’t use that excuse. Hence why you resorted to people watching. The bar was packed with humans and non-humans alike, all dancing with each other. There were already a few couples sharing face in the darker corners.

“You look bored,” a blunt voice shook you from your daze. You look to the side, noticing as a tall man slithered up to you. Not metaphorically. Your eyes instantly gravitated to his tail, the bulk of muscle trailing closely behind him as he moved. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the pattern of his scales. The base was beige and was decorated in an assortment of splotches all in varying shades of brown, and at the very end of it all was a black rattle. He laughs at your reaction, “have you never seen a Naga before?”

“Not up close, there weren’t that many back home,” you flush a little as you are caught staring. Which wasn’t a lie, you didn’t see many growing up, nor did you encounter a lot at work either. A surprising statistic you’ve learned since you moved is that New Mexico has the highest population of Naga in the United States, with Texas as a close second. You have seen a few as you wandered around Peralta and the neighboring towns, but you have yet to talk to them.

“Oh, you’re from out of town. How exciting,” he smiles and extends a hand, “Santiago Rosales.” You shake his hand and introduce yourself. His smile grows and the rainbow lights from the dance floor reflect off his fangs. You couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man, tan skin, curly raven hair, a triangular face with a strong jawline, and golden serpentine eyes. You look back at the dance floor and notice one of your co-workers giving you a thumbs up. “So, not to sound cheesy… But why is a pretty chica like you, not out there?”

You flush a little at his definitely cheesy comment, “I’ve already done my socializing for the evening, but if I leave now I’ll never hear the end of it at work. What about you, why aren’t you out there?”

He motions to his tail, “I’m in no mood to get stomped on.”

“Oh… I didn’t even think of that. Does it happen often?”

“It happened a lot when I was a kid, but I was kinda a wimpy kid too,”

You raise a brow as you look at how snugly his button up fits to his arms and chest, “wimpy?”

“Hey I wasn’t always like this, I was a string bean growing up. It took years for this to happen,” he motions to himself proudly. You laugh and finish your drink, Santiago looks at the empty glass, “may I offer to buy you another drink?”

You contemplate it for a second then shake your head, “no thank you, I have to drive home tonight. And I don’t live in Albuquerque.”

“Is it too weird to ask where you live then?”

“Peralta,” you shrug.

“Really? My mom lives in Peralta… Maybe I’ll see you around?”

~~***~~

And you did, the first time you saw Santiago was at the grocery store. You were trying to figure out what brand of refried beans to buy when he came down the aisle, slithering alongside an older Naga woman. He didn’t acknowledge you, which made you question whether he recognized you at all. The second time you saw him was at the post office, and he immediately smiled when he saw you. Your heart couldn’t help to flutter at the sight of him. The third time was at the bank, both of you waiting in line at the tellers.

The fourth time was when everything changed. You were standing in the bathroom aisle at Target in Albuquerque, looking through the wide array of shower curtain options. You heard your name being called and you looked up, expecting to see someone from work, possibly even a regular patient. But, instead your eyes were graced with the sight of a familiar Naga in a taut shirt and a leather jacket, “oh, hi Santiago.”

“Hola, looking for a shower curtain I see,” he smiles as he sidles up beside you.

You fluster a little, realizing you were still wearing your baggy maroon scrubs. “Indeed I am, it’s been two months and my house still looks like no one lives in there.”

He looks you up and down, his eyes stopping at the embroidered patch above your breast, “you work at Isleta Health Center?”

Your brows knit in confusion and you look down at the patch, resisting the urge to face palm, “yes, yes I do. Sorry, I just got off my shift and I kinda forgot I was still wearing this monstrosity.”

“You don’t look bad at all if I’m being honest…”

Damn he was slick, “it’s not the worst, but I hate how plain it is. I sold all my fun scrubs when I moved, so I’m stuck with the standard issues until I buy more.” He nods and looks at the shower curtains in your hands curiously. “So, what are you here for?”

"Uhh… Honestly I don't even know anymore. They didn't have what I needed, so I just started to aimlessly slither around the store. And then I found you."

"Aimlessly wandering around Target can be dangerous," you chuckle.

"I haven't learned my lesson apparently," he gives you a lopsided smile, "last time it happened I came home with a pillow that had some motivational quote.”

“Yikes,” you laugh and put one of the curtains back onto it’s metal hook.

“Yikes indeed,” he crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at the options before him. “So, do you have any style in mind.”

“Santiago, you don’t need to help me.”

“I fear if I don’t help you, you’ll be stuck in the store until it closes,” he teases with a wink.

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks, “alright fine. My house is pueblo style, built in the seventies. The bathroom was recently remodeled before they sold it, so the walls are plain, it has normal wood, and laminate tiles that look like travertine. It’s very boring.”

“So you need something to spice it up?”

“Exactly,” you pick up a geometric patterned one, looking at the picture on the cardboard.

Santiago shakes his head, "nope", he takes it out of your hand and puts it back. You look at him dumbfounded by how brash he was. He puts another one in your hands, “this one looks like you.”

You look down at the curtains, it was a simple floral. But with the way the bright flowers were stylized like they were from an Alfredo Ramos Martinez painting. “This is cute.”

“You look like a floral person.”

“How does one look like a floral person, without being an actual nymph?” He shrugs and you simply roll your eyes, “you’re lucky I tolerate you.”

He winces, “just tolerate?”

“Well, I don’t know you that well…”

“Then let's get to know each other,” his posture straightens. “Why don’t we go out for a coffee someday, as a date?” You must’ve stared at him like he grew another head because he immediately fell back on his statement, “or not a date?”

“No… A date is fine.”

“Is it?”

“Definitely.”

“Then why are you still looking at me like that?”

Your face instantly turns a scarlet color, “I… It's been awhile since I’ve been on a date. So, the fact that you are asking me on a date, in a Target, is mind boggling.”

“Do you want me to ask you outside the Target?”

“That’s not the point,” you sigh, trying to steady your breathing. “So, a date?”

Santiago smirks, “give me your phone.” You scowl and he shrinks at your stern gaze, “por favor?” Reluctantly you unlock and hand him your phone, watching as he makes himself a contact. “Text me when you get home, I should have a fantastic plan by then.”

“No coffee?”

“Nope, you deserve more than a coffee.” You flush again as he smiles victoriously, “I’ll let you get back to shopping so you can get home at a decent hour. Talk to you soon, cariño.” You watch as he slithers out of the aisle with a wave over his shoulder. You can’t help but stare, looking at the end of the aisle then back at the curtains in your hand. For some reason, the bright flowers just felt right. So, you put the package into your basket and head off to find the next item on your list. And you couldn’t wait until you got home.

#Naga X Reader #X Reader Miniseries #M Naga x F Reader #Exophilia #Terato #My Works #My Writing #Original Content #Monster X Reader

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friendofhayley · 4 years ago

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Hooray for all content creators in all fandoms! Y’all make the world go round! This is April’s round-up of fics I read and recommend from multiple fandoms. This fic rec includes 9 fics from the Teen Wolf, Harry Potter, and One Direction fandoms!

Drarry (Harry Potter)

1. Nero su bianco by @zuzallove | oblivious boys in love - we get to see what Draco could have been thinking during 7th year Hogwarts - lots of drama, if you’re into it - Narcissa knows all and is great - 40k

September 1997. Hogwarts is under the regime of Voldemort and the Carrows. Finding himself alienated by both his friends and his supposed enemies, Draco puts quill to parchment, and writes letters. He addresses them to the only person he can think of, as Hogwarts rapidly falls into chaos and ruin: Harry Potter. He goes to great lengths to ensure the letters are never discovered, and he’s pretty certain he’s done a great job.

Until the day of his trial.

2. What’s Eating Draco Malfoy? by @actual-howlinglikeaseaturtle | this is a re-read so it’s v v good - cw eating disorder, suicide ideation, alcoholism - Ginny & Draco being friends is just so special to me - also everything is handled very well - 75k

"Tragedy struck today when Anorexia Nervosa claimed a young boy's life," he spoke loudly. "Very sad. He will be missed by one person, maybe two. Awful. Now to the weather with Carl!"

Ginny could not help herself; she burst out laughing. She didn't know what was more absurd. The way Malfoy joked about his own death or the fact that he had watched muggle TV. Muggle news even.

"You're a bloody lunatic!" she snorted, and Malfoy's smile widened.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

3. Exactly Like You by Jerakeen | Pride and Prejudice AU whoo whoo!! - werewolves are known - stereotypical A/B/O - but everything else is the same except Scott leaves town with Derek after S1 - 70k

“It was Jackson’s idea,” Lydia explains, looking perfectly serious while standing in front of a March Madness bracket of Beacon Hills’ eligible bachelors.

Jackson looks smug. “It only makes sense.”

Stiles meets Isaac’s eyes over the heads of all the crazy people in the room. Isaac shrugs with a slight wince. “’Tis the season.”

4. But Then What... by Stoney | Derek is the same age as Stiles! - I just love how they’re written like real (horny) teenagers - they’re just so bad at communication - also Jackson is a Jackass - 24k

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

5. We’ll be Better Around the Second Time by @jordansaysno | I don’t know about y’all but this hits my wish fulfillment for running away from home in high school - side Isaac/Scott which is very cool - Stiles deserved better tbh - happy ending - 26k

It's been months. Months of fading contact with the pack. Months of the silent treatment from his father. Months of nothing but himself and the occasional lesson with Deaton to entertain him.

It's too much, and eventually, Stiles leaves.

For years, everything goes great, until of course his dad gets injured, and he is suddenly forced to deal with people he thought he left behind in his past for good.

6. Fireman Derek’s Crazy Pie [Cheeseburger Baby] by @thegloryof | this is such a classic and what I turn to when I’m really craving pie - NYC fic - some parts are just delicious to read (and not just for the food porn) - misunderstandings - 17k

“He can't blame me for the fact that I live in a building full of people united in the singular effort to ogle Hot Fireman as often as humanly possible."

Laura laughs, loud and echoing in the empty restaurant. "Hot firemen can make a girl do crazy things," she agrees, nodding towards her brother's name on the menu. "Derek won't let me date anyone from his company, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the eye candy."

"Send them my way," Stiles suggests, finally loading up a forkful of pie. "Apparently I'm incompetent enough that I need to be babysat at all times, because it would be cheaper than dispatching a truck every time I try to use a kitchen appliance."

7. Don’t Feed the Wolves by Amazonia_8 | another classic fic that’s also hot - cw: Derek thinks Stiles can’t consent - werewolves are known - the jailhouse scene is constantly replaying in my head - 30k

Stiles took the dare, because what else was he supposed to do when the whole lacrosse team was chanting his name? Even though the werewolf pack had left Beacon Hills years ago, nobody was stupid enough to set foot on the Hale property.

Except, apparently, Stiles.

Now he's got a feral werewolf following him around town with the sole purpose of claiming Stiles as his own.

Larry (One Direction)

8. take my hand (and my heart and soul) by @anylessreal | aaaaaa this was so good! - just so much misunderstandings, but it’s so cool that the audience/Harry don’t know what’s going on too! - amnesia - friends to strangers to lovers - 45k

Harry feels nauseous when he opens his mouth. "Hey. Um, hi. It's me," he mumbles before realizing with a jolt that Louis might not have his number anymore. "It's Harry... Styles," he tacks on, screwing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. This was a terrible idea.

There's silence on the other end for a long time. Harry understands. He shouldn't have called. He tries not to let the static swallow him whole.

"I – yeah. Hi," Louis finally answers, slowly, awkwardly. "I um. Sorry. I heard about your accident. You're alright?"

9. thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in by @absoloutenonsense | this was another re-read!! - traditional A/B/O - misunderstandings due to past abuse (not done by the boys) - get ready for some high/low emotions - 52k

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

#sterek #hlsource #drarry #multifandom fic rec #monthly fic rec

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lilhawkeye3 · 4 years ago

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This Ohio discourse has got me dying to create discourse about every other state now hehe so I officially present:

Hawk’s review of 36/50 US states!

In alphabetical order because that fuckin song “50 nifty United States” has been stuck in my head since fourth grade.

Arizona: Phoenix is hot. Can’t believe y’all choose to live in a place that gets haboobs. Saw Sen. John McCain in the airport. I feel that sums up the state well. 4/10

California: as a resident of the state of Oregon, I’m legally required to say fuck California😌 unless anyone else talking shit about Cali and then we got your back😤 SoCal vs San Fran vs Northern Cal are totally different worlds though. 7/10

Colorado: damn idk how y’all breathe there, them air is thin. But really pretty out there! 7/10

Connecticut: oh my god fuck New Haven. And Stamford, and Hartford, and— Yknow what? Let’s just toss the whole state into the Sound. For real, traffic is the WORST here and I’m so sorry that y’all gotta live like that. 3/10

Delaware: I cannot believe this is considered a state. There’s no difference between Delaware and Maryland/Pennsylvania. 1/10 should not be a state

Florida: “the only hills in Florida are the highway ramps and the Matterhorn!” —the shuttle driver at Disney World. He was right. Shit is flat as fuck here. And hot. And humid. The Gulf Coast is nice? But tbh it’s just all very touristy which is kind of a bummer. 5/10

Georgia: ...I can’t with the humidity or thinly veiled racism. But y’all got nice peaches! Also Black Panther filmed there so thank you for blessing us with that. 6/10 for fruits

Hawaii: okay pineapple farms are cool. Tbh I just feel really bad for how much mainlander/tourist bs all the islanders put up with. Ik price of living is v high and keeps going up. That said I did love Hawaii... although I was stung by a jellyfish. Hate those little bastards. 8/10 for wonderful people and nature

Idaho: as an Oregonian I’m required to also say fuck Idaho 😝 you da hoes. Okay for real tho southern Idaho has become v white white and kinda scary tbh. The northern part of the state is pretty chill tho. Also Oreida kettle chips are partly made in Idaho so I gotta give you half credit for that. 4/10

Illinois: at least you’re not Indiana. 4/10.

Indiana: I never want to step foot in Gary, Indiana again in my life. (Passed a Mack truck hauling a race car to Indy 500 though so that was cool.) 2/10

Iowa: I almost moved here. I’m so glad I didn’t. Why are the Quad Cities actually a group of five towns? I hate that. Also the roads were all cement, felt like driving on a sidewalk. Was also interesting because the second we got out of the city proper, it was just... corn fields everywhere. 2/10 y’all raising children of the corn.

Kentucky: I really don’t have anything to say about Kentucky. I thought the trees were pretty? 5/10 yeah idk

Maine: my relative has totaled two cars by hitting moose in Maine. Maine scares me. Or rather, the moose do. Also the lobster roll hype is real. And the coast truly is beautiful. 8/10 but an extra point for the moose bc I hate that relative so 9/10

Maryland: oh god Baltimore. Also I’m blaming you for the DC traffic because it’s on the land you gifted them. 3/10

Massachusetts: Patriots fans are the worst NFL fans (the racism is real, especially after fans burned the jerseys of Black players who knelt for the anthem). Liking Dunkin’ Donuts is not a personality trait. The North End in Boston is truly the best place to get pizza in the entire country. Western Mass is not the same state. And the Cape Cod bridges give me nightmares. 5/10 but cause I had to pay taxes two years and it really is Taxachusetts, knocking it down to 4/10

Michigan: it’s a lot bigger than I initially thought. 5/10

Minnesota: it’s Canada but in the US. Pretty driving through the southern part. Cops suck tho. 5/10

Montana: okay Montana is downright gorgeous. (Except Billings. Sorry, Billings.) I must include a photo. I wanna get a cabin here and just exist. 8/10

New Hampshire: can’t decide if it hates Massachusetts or wants to be Massachusetts. All it knows is that it’s better than Vermont. Which... y’know, valid. (If you wanna see NH culture watch North Woods Law tbh). 4/10

New Jersey: why are there so many goddamn highways in this state? Also there are more places to weekend trip than the Shore or the Poconos. Although you do have people pump gas for you just like Oregon, so... that’s valid. Things my friends have added: Newark airport is cursed (valid), the jughandles are nightmares (true), pork roll/Taylor Ham is good and so are bagels and New Jersey pizza (allergic so idk), and everyone is split on whether the shore is actually decent or not 😂 I give it a 3.5/10 out of spite

New York: NYC is fun, Upstate is MASSIVE but really beautiful. Long Island is... yeah I don’t have anything nice to say about Long Island. 8/10 For NYC, 6/10 for Upstate, -2/10 for Long Island, gives us an average of 6/10

North Carolina: very good peaches. Isn’t South Carolina. Keep it up👍🏽 6/10

Ohio: I already told y’all how I feel about this flat ass boring state. I feel no need to slander it any more lmao. 3/10

Oregon: she flies with her own wings, mi amor🥰 to list all the reasons I like Oregon (and the issues too bc it ain’t perfect), I would need a whole other post. I’ll just leave you with this picture I took of Mt. Hood, the queen of our Cascades. 11/10

Pennsylvania: so apparently PN is three states hiding in a trench coat like NY. There’s upstate, philly and Pittsburg. Personally I think they’re just trying too hard and wanna get the same recognition as NY. Meh. 5/10

Rhode Island: THIS FUCKIN SHAM OF A STATE Just merge it with Connecticut and be done with it!! It’s tiny. Providence sucks. There’s nothing unique about this state that you can’t find in Southern Mass (except MA has cheaper taxes so y’all come to work and shop in MA anyways smh). Also the fingers are really annoying to drive down to get to some beach areas haha. 2/10 you’re barely better than Delaware.

South Carolina: my Black father was invited to a party celebrating General Robert E Lee’s birthday. So... 0/10

South Dakota: very gorgeous, didn’t realize the Missouri River went this far west, but VERY LARGE. I mean it looks big on a map but then you get there and... yeah. No speed limit on highways is a great time though. And the Badlands have mountain goats! 6/10 bc while pretty, living there seems really hard. (Picture is me in the Badlands).

Texas: gave us Juneteenth and Beyoncé and JJ Watts. Thank you Texas. But is very big, got independence from Mexico to keep slavery (yikes), is like 97% private land (yikes) and is like the second or third largest state. Very big. That said, everyone I’ve ever met from Texas is lovely. 6/10.

Utah: Other than Idaho, this is the whitest state I’ve been to. Or it feels that way. Like a, the people crossed to the other side of the street and held their bags because I’m brown, state. And I don’t ski so I can’t even say that’s a good thing (I fell off the ski lift the one time I went, long story). Yeah 0/10.

Vermont: wants to be New Hampshire or Canada and can’t decide which. So it’s just kinda there. Pretty hills though. 3/10

Virginia: let’s be real we all forget that Virginia exists west of Richmond. Nova is a beauracratic and traffic nightmare and half our neighbors had to pass security clearance checks. Hampton Roads and beach area is a tourist and mosquito nightmare. But there were dolphins and I made snowmen on the beach. Good times. 6.7/10

Washington: again, legally required as an Oregon resident to say fuck Washington because it’s all your fault we now are getting a toll on the I-5 border. But you’re better than California. And the Sound is really cool for fishing, love Wicked Tuna. And the fish market. Best salmon I’ve had. Eastern Washington... y’all got Spokane but the rest is kinda sparse. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 8/10

Wisconsin: cheese is actually good. Again, pretty state, much larger than I initially thought. 7/10

Wyoming: this was the ONLY STATE I lost cell service in when diriving cross country. Kinda surprised it wasn’t Montana, but no, it was Wyoming. Views are gorgeous though so I was distracted either way. 4/10

Thank you for joining me on this cross-country edition of Tea Time with Hawk. Please respond with any reactions, corrections, addendums about any and all of the states mentioned. And thank you for taking part in this wholesome Clone Wars fandom discourse with me 🥰💕

DISCLAIMER: THESE RATINGS ARE ALL A JOKE PLEASE DO NOT ACTUALLY GET MAD ABOUT IT

#ohio discourse #50 states reviews #oregon #midwest #california #texas #New York #massachusetts #deep south #midatlantic #New England #united states #the clone wars #DISCOURSE COMMENCE

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itswhumpday · 4 years ago

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Ersatz Emotion | Chapter 1

TW: Nudity. Bleeding. Implied stabbing.

Out of all of the lousy jobs they could get as a mechatronic technician, Caretaker hated working for the police most.

They’d always bring in cleaning bots with pieces of people inside, cooking bots that had cooked pieces of people or pet bots that were battered beyond belief but had still managed to chomp up pieces of a person.

But above all, Caretaker hated when they brought in androids.

Because, you see, at this point in time, you can’t know what’s an android and what’s a human until you’ve had a closer look. So at any given time, officers would barge inside dragging androids across the floor like you would a large trash bag, or on top of their shoulders like a hunting trophy.

And it wasn’t that Caretaker was one of those android rights activists, but there was one fact: androids were marvelous pieces of human ingenuity and at least deserved to be treated with respect.

Caretaker should have known this one would be different when the officer that brought them in was being careful for once. They brought it in like they would carry a sleeping person, in their arms, wrapped around in some old blanket. And as they set it on the counter, it even looked like one. It was definitely a top of the line model, with super advanced programming and delicate microstructures. The most realistic thing Caretaker had ever seen.

“Must’ve cost a fortune.” Caretaker said, touching the soft skin of the face. It even had freckles. It was motionless and grey, lips and eyelids with a bluish tint. That was probably due to the deactivation of the energy core, that wasn’t sending signals to the fluid pump. Looked a lot like a corpse if you’d never seen a deactivated android before.

“We wouldn’t know. The owner went missing.” The police officer was looking everywhere but the android. They clearly weren’t used to such realism. No one really was. This level was really new. The android being completely nude under the blanket didn’t help.

“Do you know what’s the damage?”

“No idea. It was already broken when we arrived at the apartment.”

“Anything I should know about the owner?”

“A rich type. Worked with those things, that’s why that one is so new.” The officer said, risking a look down at the android. They quickly looked away, shaking their head.

Caretaker nodded. “I’ll take a look at it. When do you need it?”

“As soon as possible.”

Of course. Of course it was.

Caretaker clears their table in the back before bringing in the broken android. They had been working on other things, but their regulation required they attended to police cases earlier than other machines.

As they raised the android in their arms, they tried to suppress a shiver when they found the exact weight of a human body. The head tumbled back, exposing the frail neck. The eyes unveiled slightly, revealing the white sclera of eyes. Their lips parted faintly, showing the glint of something blue inside.

They lay the android carefully on the table. They rolled it to the side, looking for the spot at the back of their neck that would allow them to peel off the skin and turn on maintenance mode. It's right there, where the neck meets the back of the head, right under the hair. They peel a little bit of it and poke the small button with the thinnest tool they had. They press it for ten seconds and the android’s body stiffens. Maintenance mode protects all of the fluid inside the skin so Caretaker can peel it off and assess the damage without losing fluid.

They laid the android back on their back, watching. Now that they’re close, they can see damages to the skin, here and there. They have a dark tint, but they’re almost gone now. If Caretaker didn’t know any better, they’d think it was bruises.

That couldn’t be, though. If you’re buying a machine, why would you want it to show damage if it got it?

They take a knife and start to feel for the entrance to the chest plaque. It’s normally along the collarbones. They push the tip of the knife in carefully until they find the correct place. They follow it to the left, and then down across the belly and all the way around until they’ve cut a squared shape in the skin. Since maintenance mode was on, no blood came out - but it was still weird to cut skin open.

Caretaker peels it to the side, revealing the chest plate. Although it’s cavity was just like the ones they’d already worked on, it had a completely different design. Normally, it was a metal plate covering the crucial parts of an android. This one, however, has been shaped like it would be in a human body. Looked like a ribcage.

“WHPEE-7” Caretaker reads from the inscription near where the sternum would be. “You must be really new… I don’t even have a manual for you yet.”

Not much varied from model to model. Most upgrades in realistic androids like these were in the processing units, new programming features, like daydreaming or lip biting. One or two core pieces changed every few years, but nothing too hard to get if they didn’t have it. This one, however, didn’t seem all that different from other WHPEE models they’d worked before in the past - except for how complex they looked.

Caretaker was able to find the button to open the chest plate where it was normally located. The faux ribs retracted on themselves, moving out of the way in a display of marvelous engineering. They looked down, noticing all of the pieces were the same, but arranged in ways that resembled a human body more. The pump on the left side of the chest like a heart, the energy core split in two units like lungs. Even the mess of cables was organized to look like a stomach. They’d been made to look as human as it got. But what for? No one was supposed to look at the inside…

And it was badly damaged too. Caretaker soon found the source of the stains they’d seen in the skin. Fluid had spread all over the cavity, coming from some unknown location. It would take forever to clean it up - and it might have fried something. But they’d have to do it before even trying to turn it on and run a diagnostics.

Caretaker sighed. It would be a long night.

***

Bit by bit, Caretaker took out the pieces, cleaned the fluid in them and put them back in place.

Androids like these weren’t made to be taken to maintenance places like Caretaker’s. They weren’t machines that you could simply take apart. Most things were industrially produced to not be moved and it took way too long to mess with them - and every time risking to permanently damage it. No, androids like these were normally sent back to the factory, where specialists would have all of the necessary tools to remake them from scratch if it was necessary.

Although, in cases like these, it was probably cheaper to recycle the android, make a new one and implant some core memories. Memories were tricky to program into a new body, but still less tricky than messing with the insides.

Still, Caretaker didn’t tell their clients that. They told the investigators it would take longer - and they didn’t know how long. They were intrigued. The WHPEE factory website didn’t say anything about this model - and it was a peculiar one. If it wasn’t even out in the market, why was it in someone’s home?

And there was the matter of the damages…

The first and most apparent one was the crushed windpipe. It was the entrance of air that led to the energy core, where it would be transformed in kinetic energy by very small devices. And by crushed Caretaker meant… Really crushed, like a soda pop can. Thankfully, they had the same one as the WHPEE-3, the first one of the line with this kind of energy core. Thankfully, it wasn’t the energy core itself. Caretaker had never seen a smaller or more advanced one, let alone have one to spare.

The other damaged pieces were very similar: warped, torn and cut open. Caretaker could only imagine what could have caused such a thing. At first they thought it might have been an accident, until oxidized fluid from several occasions told them that this android probably had been operating with such damages for a while before stopping functioning. They wondered why the PAIN sensors didn’t alert the owner.

Except… If it had.

Either way, it wasn’t their place to keep concocting stories. Finally, after a long week, everything was clean. They took short breaks from the project to finish other overdue repairs, but it was hard to concentrate on anything else when there was a body stretched over your workspace.

Keeping maintenance mode on, they pressed the reset button on the fluid pump - an odd choice, since the button was normally in the energy core. There was the glint of a light and then of another, while the android turned on. Normally, when maintenance mode was on, they automatically ran diagnostics when restarting, so they connected their monitor with one of the info-cables they could find running inside of the chest panel.

Lines of diagnostic flooded the screen in red and green. But Caretaker didn’t even have to look at it to know something was wrong. As the pump began to work and the energy core started to fill in and out, the android opened their eyes and gasped.

A painful sound escaped their throat as their arms started to move, eyes widening in what could only be described as fear. They looked down at themselves and touched the skin peeled to the side and let out a scream. Their head tumbled back, eyes closing. Caretaker almost fell out of their chair trying to pull back. That’s not how PAIN sensors were, they were supposed to just be alarms to the owners, they weren’t supposed to have programming like this.

This was clearly… Homebrew.

The sound of the breathing cycles were troubled as Whumpee opened their eyes again and looked around. They found Caretaker. The screen popped a warning. DANGER. DANGER. DANGER. ENERGY CORE DAMAGED. Their hand hovered in that direction but fell flat, weak. As Caretaker watched horrified, Whumpee coughed. Blue fluid came out of their mouth. Caretaker looked back at the chest cavity. There it was, a leak in the energy core. They thought it was a design element, a small empty path amongst the pieces. But now they saw… It had the perfect shape of a blade.

Caretaker ran back to the table, grabbing a cloth and pressing it over the leak. It soaked up the cloth, but the energy core was able to run a little smoother, expanding and contracting.

The Whumpee closed their eyes, their troubled breathing filling the workshop. Caretaker saw a glint and couldn’t believe their eyes. The eye cleaners were spilling out. Crying. Someone had programmed this WHPEE-7 to cry. Why would anyone want that? A mix of a groan and a sob came of their mouth, shaking their chest.

“P-please. Don’t move.” Caretaker said, holding the cloth in place.

Although the color had returned to their face, with the speed of the leak and maintenance mode activated (and therefore the fluid stored in the skin not circulating to the energy core), it was draining again. Caretaker checked the diagnostics. It was still at 67%. If they could hold a little longer…

But it didn’t seem like it would. With a damaged energy core and the limited supply of fluid circulating, the fluid pump was working faster and faster to keep the body energized. Whumpee’s arm tried to touch the left side of their chest, sobbing weakly and furrowing their brows.

That’s it. It was too weird. Caretaker had to deactivate it. They grab their keyboard, leaving the cloth aside. They push the diagnostics (72%) aside to a smaller window and open the access to the mainframe. A block showed on screen.

“What?!” This is not factory protocol. All mainframes should be able to be accessed by technicians. But whoever programmed this android to feel pain, programmed it not to accept overrides from non-authorized machines.

Caretaker jumped when their monitor was pushed aside. They looked at Whumpee, startled. They’re weakly grabbing at the soaked cloth, the only thing keeping them from deactivation. The fluid has already spread over the pieces Caretaker had so carefully cleaned.

“Get… Out… Of… My… Head…” Whumpee managed to say, coughing up more fluid. “Help… Me.”

Caretaker checks the diagnostics. 79%. All the police need is the memories. Diagnostics makes a backup copy of the last week of the android when it’s finishing up, so the technicians can know the cause of the damage and if there is a need to send the android back to the factory. They just need to keep the android active until then, that’s their job.

But when they press the cloth against the energy core, the Whumpee’s weak hand holds it in place. They choked in pain, but didn’t move.

“Who did this to you?” Caretaker asked, looking around to try and find another cloth. They have some fluid laying around, but there’s no point inserting it with maintenance mode on.

“Th—” The Whumpee is shaken by a slight tremor. “The bastard.”

“Who? Your owner?”

“Th— The son.” Whumpee managed to say, their voice dying inside of their throat.

84%. The screen continued to alert to fatal energy core damage.

“Was he the one who damaged you?” Caretaker demanded.

A new alert popped on the screen: dangerously low fluid circulation. Shutting down the processing unit. Conserving energy.

“Prog— Programmed. Then… Damaged—” Whumpee choked on the blue fluid that came out of their mouth and coughed. Then gasped and their eyes rolled back. Their hand, on top of Caretaker’s, went limp. The other mechanical elements kept working though, even if a bit dysfunctionally from the leak.

Unconscious. Someone had programmed the Whumpee to get unconscious - or at least look that way. They’d seen energy conservation modes before, but they’ve always looked like deactivation. Someone had programmed this one to look like unconsciousness. This case was getting weirder by the minute.

93%.

Just a little longer and they’d have something to give the police and it wouldn’t be their problem anymore. They could go back to fixing simpler machines - machines that didn’t cry from PAIN.

99%. They were drenched in fluid. It was filling up the chest cavity despite their best efforts. It wasn’t ideal, but most of these components were fluid proof. But something should not be properly patched, because there was a blue glint of something electric.

Caretaker’s rubber gloves protected them when there was an electric shock that made the WHPEE-7’s body spasm. Their head lolled to the side, fluid dripping out of their mouth and slowly coming out of their nose. The pump stops. Seconds later, the energy core. Whumpee turns grey again.

And the monitor had stopped at 99%.

#robot whump #android whump #ciber whump #whump #mechanic caretaker #scifi whump #here i go again with another series #do i ever learn #i think there will be 6 chapters

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kitchenscene · 4 years ago

Text

all roads lead to space [1/15]

read it on ao3

Eddie always loved the stars.

Loved them enough to read every space exploration book at the library as a kid. Loved them enough to write essays dedicated to the sky. Loved them enough to take a brochure at career day that read ‘Explore Space!’, and promise himself that one day he’d see them up close. A promise so strong that it kept him up at night, staring out the window, waiting for a future he so badly needed.

Soon, he promised. ‘Explore Space!’, he remembered. He held onto that brochure, kept it close. Hung it on the wall above his desk, read the words everyday. A dream, a hope. A promise to himself.

“Really?” his parents asked, “You know, it’s not easy to be an astronaut…”

Of course it’s not easy. He did the research in high school, determined to pull his dream within reach. A four year degree and a professional degree. Then three years of ‘relevant experience’, plus two years of training, assuming he’s chosen as a candidate (“join the military,” every pamphlet seemed to whisper, “NASA loves military pilots.” It’s like they were taunting him).

“Don’t listen to them,” Adriana reassured.

“You’d be good at it,” Sophia hesitantly complimented.

It’s a lot to handle. A lot of time and school and training, which leads to a lot of receipts and loans and debts he could never pay. It’s brutal. To want something so bad, but have it dangling just out of reach. To see the possibility glaring at the end of the road and know that it will always be just that. A possibility. Barely out of reach, almost a reality, but never quite true.

That’s when the vultures began to prey.

“Are you interested in joining the United States Armed Forces?”

Military recruiters. They’d scout out the high schools, searching for any able-bodied candidate they could find, preying on kids who had nowhere else to turn.

“There’s plenty of benefits for you and your family–”

Including, but not limited to: redacted letters from your loved one overseas, nightmares that will settle deep in your skull, and bullet holes that will never quite heal. All for the low, low price of–

“–We’ll pay for your college tuition.”

Of course that line always turned heads. Even Eddie perked at the offer. But he could never take it. It’s blood money, and he didn’t want it. Tempting, but no. No piece of paper, no cap and gown, is worth someone else’s life.

Eddie wanted to help people, not hurt them. Science, space exploration, it’s all about the pursuit of knowledge. Pushing mankind forward, not yanking them backwards onto the battlefield.

“I’m not interested,” he replied. Every single time.

Physically, sure, he could do it. He’s tall, mostly muscular, with no underlying health conditions. The perfect candidate to go to war. Or the perfect candidate to go to space. Eddie met every medical requirement. He could do it. Find a way.

Eddie graduated high school, and the vultures stopped swarming. He attended a community college and started taking physics classes (turns out, stars are complicated. Still, he had made it this far). Classes weren’t easy, but they were manageable. He could learn, he could go somewhere. With every lecture, the stars pulled closer, still out of reach but finally in sight. He might actually be able to—

“—Are you interested in joining the United States Armed Forces?”

So close. The recruiters didn’t disappear after high school, unfortunately. There was a constant military presence lingering over his head. Recruiters, ROTC kids, and the pamphlets he politely recycled behind their backs. The angel on one shoulder told him to go to grad school, and the devil perched on the other, whispering, “NASA loves military pilots (it’s cheaper than a masters degree).”

Space, not war. Stars, not gunfire.

He could ignore them. Move quietly through classes and return home at the end of the day. Say no, smile, and move forward. It’s not like he had to see them every day… right?

“You know it’s not easy to be an astronaut…” the words rang in his head. But Eddie had a plan, he always did. Graduate, apply to grad school, get accepted, find a scholarship, apply to work at NASA. Five steps, easy enough.

Easy until…

“Hi, I’m Shannon.”

A field of vultures, and she stood unfazed in the middle of it all. The only smile that seemed to be true, the only one not trying to sell something he didn’t want. A yellow dress in the sea of camo-green, leaning against a table of flyers and pamphlets and lies. She caught his eye, and he held onto hers.

“You don’t seem like the military type,” he noted.

“Neither do you.”

Not a student, he learned. Not a recruiter, either. Just a sibling, helping her brother because she had nothing better to do. Intriguing, she was. Standing so self-assured, not letting a single teasing remark stick. Vultures glared at Eddie, but he kept his gaze on Shannon, borrowing an ounce of her confidence.

She asked him out before he had the chance to ask her, ignoring the “oooh’s” and “get some!” of her brother’s friends. Not part of his plan, but a welcome distraction. How could he say no to the woman with more gusto than every soldier surrounding her?

One cup of coffee turned to three, and occasional texts from class turned into daily phone calls on his way home. All his free time, he gave to her, yet he still knew more about her brother than he did about her. She would pick and choose the details of her life, which to keep and which to divulge, whereas Eddie played his whole hand, letting Shannon see every part of himself. He trusted her, for no reason in particular. He laid out his ambitions, and she only nodded in return. But he was comfortable. Shannon gave him something to come home to; he spent more time in her apartment than his own house. His last year of college, and he spent it all with her.

He had his plan, a neat list of five steps to carry him through life. Shannon wasn’t part of that plan, but he could try and make room. Step one: graduate college. One more month, and he’d have his degree, tangible proof that he could follow through. Step two: apply to grad school. Confusing and messy and filled with questions he only half understood, but he could manage. He always found a way to manage.

Five steps. Five baby steps followed by one giant leap for mankind. One month and he’d—

“—Are you interested in joining the United States Armed Forces?”

Oh, fuck off, he wanted to scream. So close. He had to admire their determination, but he was just as determined. What could they possibly offer at this point? What sales tactic could they possibly try? His response was practiced, trained. No. The answer is always no. Because in no universe would Eddie ever willingly join—

“—I’m pregnant.”

Oh.

Eddie always loved the stars. So he finally followed them.

All the way to Afghanistan, betraying every promise he ever made to himself. Airman Eddie Diaz gave himself away and let the Air Force take him wherever they please.

Shannon was livid (understandably). Impulsive , she called him, stupid and reckless. She understood the system more than most; her brother had fallen for the same trap, but convinced himself he loved the force. Eddie always hated the military, tried to avoid it at all costs.

He didn’t leave Shannon. He left for Shannon and their baby. He could send them every paycheck and benefit he had to offer. They would be okay without him.

“NASA loves military pilots…”

God, he hated it. Hated himself; still thinking of his own damn future and convincing himself it was for Shannon (he wouldn’t even be a pilot for fucks sake, at most he’d get promoted to Sergeant).

“I’ll be back,” he promised.

“It’ll be too late.”

His plans changed. So he made a new one. Go to college, fight a war, explore space (more or less). Learn to be a dad somewhere along the way. Leave them behind, he left unwritten, consider coming home (it’ll be too late).

Sixteen weeks of basic training and nine weeks shacked in some Air Force base in Alabama. “Three years of relevant experience,” read every brochure he encountered. Two tours, three years of experience, one job application.

Eddie considered proposing. That’s what you do when you have a baby, you get married and start a family. But the idea died before he could really process the thought. It didn’t sit right, and part of him knew it would end too soon. A bigger part of him was half-sure she’d say no, anyways.

He apologized again and again. Every spare moment was spent calling home, reassuring Shannon that everything would work out (he didn’t know if it would; that’s a promise he wasn't ready to make). But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

Christopher was born. Eddie wasn’t there. His first tour ended nine months later and for the first time, Eddie met his son. He barely held him, scared to hurt him more than he already had. The military taught him to shoot and fly and throw a good punch in desperate times. College taught him to ask questions and write essays about books he barely read. His sisters taught him how to braid hair and avoid their parent's stern gaze. No one taught him how to be a dad.

Eddie wanted to hold him close and teach him everything he knew. He wanted Chris to have a good life. He didn’t want to leave.

But he was already gone. Eighteen more months. A stiff salute in one hand, his St. Christopher medal in the other, clanking against his dog tags.

In El Paso, the lights were too bright to ever see the stars properly. Afghanistan was darker, the lights much more muted. At night he could look up and see every constellation, every star, clouds dancing between the distant lights. His crew made fun of him for staring oh so lovingly at the sky; “you look at your wife like that too?”

“She’s not my wife,” he panned, still staring up. Maybe she could see them too. Or maybe she was too busy looking down, caring for their child. Fixing his mistakes.

“Well, that’s certainly true now, my friend.” She would never forgive him for leaving, and he dreaded the day he’d come home to her rage. Fighting a war is easy. It’s a series of protocols and orders. In war, there’s always an answer. But coming home hurts. It’s regret and shame and scars that will never heal right.

His last mission was meant to be a rescue. To bring a wounded soldier home. Nothing they hadn't done thousands of times before. So of course everything went to hell. The one person he was supposed to save bled out before he had the chance to tend to him. He had a family, a real one who needed him to come home, and Eddie let him die.

Three gunshot wounds later, and somehow Eddie’s the hero; Staff Sergeant Diaz and his shining silver star. Looking at it made him nauseous. A symbol of heroism, and he wanted nothing more than to let it drown. Burn it, bury it, hurl it into the sea. Chris said it was cool. His parents said they were proud. Shannon said nothing at all (he feared her silence more than he feared her rage).

No words could make up for his absence. A thousand apologies meant nothing. He wasn’t there, he wasn’t enough. No dream was worth all this sacrifice. Go to college, fight a war, explore space.

Go to college, leave your family, fight a war. Fight a war, come home, never leave again.

That soldier had a family. He wouldn’t have left them behind.

‘Explore Space!’ the brochure read, still hanging on the wall of his childhood bedroom. He ripped it from the cork board and let it fall to the floor.

Eddie always loved the stars. But he couldn’t leave Chris. Not again.

So Eddie stayed. He needed to stay. Somewhere along the line, Shannon left. He’s a hypocrite for being angry and a terrible person for being a little glad they never got married.

“You're such a downer,” Adriana said. She and Sophia came to El Paso to surprise Chris for his birthday. “Your sadness is making me sad. It’s making him sad too.” She nodded towards Chris.

“Did he say something to you?” As much as he wanted to deny his feelings, he couldn’t. Not if it was hurting Chris.

“No. But kids are perceptive,” she tried to level with him. “ You’ve been stuck in El Paso for years. At some point, you need to move forward. Or at least move out of our parent’s house.”

He frowned. “I can’t leave him. Not again,” he said, unmoving.

“How do you think he’ll feel when he grows up and finds out you gave up your dream because of him? Eddie, I’m not telling you to leave him,” she rested a hand on his shoulder, “I’m telling you to bring him with you.”

He stood still, his head stuck to Adriana’s words. He wanted to do what was best for Chris. Jumping between jobs, trying to make ends meet, did more harm than good. He was at work more than he was at home, yet he managed to convince himself it was better for their family. Chris needed stability, something constant in his life. And Eddie needed to leave El Paso.

He watched Sophia stack Legos with Chris. Adriana watched Eddie as he considered his options.

“If you think any harder, your head might explode,” she laughed. “Stop trying to make a plan. Stop thinking. Just tell me, what do you want.”

Go to college, fight a war, explore space. One job application. Just one more step. Chris smiled up at him, and for the first time in months he felt content. An idea that was once so distant finally fell within reach. No plans, no hesitations.

“I want to go to Houston.”

For Chris, he reassured himself, and this time he believed it. Everything he did, he did for Chris.

The next day he applied to be an astronaut. Two weeks later, and he was accepted, set to begin training at the Johnson Space Center in Houston.

“I was thinking of going on a trip. How would you like to come with me?” he offered Chris. Adriana and Sophia lived together just outside of the city and they offered to let Eddie and Chris stay with them (with the added bonus of free babysitting from his sisters).

“Together?” Chris was practically beaming. It broke Eddie’s heart to see how the simplest gesture brought so much joy. He never wanted Chris to doubt him again, never wanted him to think that at any moment, his dad might leave and never come home.

“Together.”

#here it is: THE astronaut au #911 fox #911 on fox #911 fics #fics #texas.fic #lmk if you want to be added to a tag list for this !!#astronaut au #mine:911

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uzumaki-rebellion · 5 years ago

Text

“Wet Sugar” [Part 29 of 30]

Summary: Erik and the merc head over to do the London heist and Yani accepts new gifts...

youtube

"The brotha's got this complex occupation The brotha's got this complex occupation The brotha's got this complex occupation

Me and this baby gon' be up all night long Walkin' this wood flo' 'til my man gets home I'm at the front do', I'm listening by the phone But I'm gon' be here with my make-up on It's been a long time since my man been gone But when he get here, you know I won't be gone Because I love him, love him strong Me and this baby gon' be up all night long…"

Erykah Badu—"Danger"

Erik wiped down the modified BCM Reece 14 KMR-A. It was an expensive AR-15. He added an M203 grenade launcher with vibranium alterations. The weapon was a polished obsidian dream in his hands. He had to be prepared for the Black Panther. His own blood relative. Tainted blood.

Linda sat across from him cleaning the other weapons they were bringing with them to Korea. The closer they got to their departure date, the more serious she became. He still found it excruciating to be near her, but he treated her like he treated his past military unit that he hated, just neutral all the way.

Klaue walked into the den a watched them prepare the weaponry. Erik took that moment to grab some papers he held in a folder.

"I need you to sign these so I can get the Cessna."

"Seventy-Five thousand?" Klaue groaned.

"I can get you a new one for Three-Hundred Thousand. It's your money."

"Fine, fine."

Klaue used his alias and didn't even look at the paperwork. Just signed where Erik told him to sign and picked up the AR-15 from the work table.

"You missed your calling. You could make a killing modifying weapons full time."

"I'd get bored too quick."

Klaue's eyes looked past him and onto the viewscreen above the fireplace. He turned up the volume. Erik and Linda stared at it with him.

A weather report indicated the return of the hurricane season. And a large category 4 was headed for the islands along the Atlantic.

"I'm sure you battened down the hatches in St. Thomas, Killmonger?"

"Lock stock and barrel."

At last. A tell on Linda's face. A faint blink of her eyes. Erik caught her eyes with his as she picked up another weapon to clean.

"Looks like it'll be a bad one. Hope Our Lady is prepared for it. One of the pitfalls of island life."

Erik felt his midsection tighten. The last hurricane season had been a lucky one. He wiggled his fingers and kept the focus on the radar images and the predicted touch down points. He'd keep an eye on it. Climate change had made life tricky for people globally. It concerned Erik, but he pressed on and picked up a new weapon to inspect and clean.

Linda stared at him and his face felt open and vulnerable with worry. He looked away from her.

###

"Jesus, you can't be still can yuh?"

Yani pressed her hand into her side. The baby was moving too much for her to get fully comfortable. She sat with her legs lifted up with an ottoman in Twyla's house. Boxes stood unopened around her and she was pleased with the one small box she was able to unpack.

Moving in with Twyla had been a sound financial decision. Her lease to the apartment had become month to month, and Nannette was able to find a new roommate easily. Yani's rent money would help pay Twyla's mortgage, and in exchange, Twyla was able to work fewer hours at her job and watch Sydette so Yani could continue taking summer classes with a full course load. She didn't let her pregnancy stop her from finishing up a summer session. Her medical plans were revamped to include an additional two years to finish her degree. Her mind was set on getting into a residency program by the time the new baby was three. Her grades were exceptional but more important than school-Sydette becoming herself again.

The new baby seemed to focus her daughter's anxiety and fears, and Sweet Pea blossomed once more, so excited to welcome the new dumpling.

"Be still, just for fifteen minutes, please," Yani said to her already big tummy.

Sydette ran over to her and patted her stomach.

"Go to sleep," Sydette said.

"Listen to Sweet Pea, Dumplin'."

"Mama, yuh feet so big."

"A little swelling, love."

Sydette rubbed Yani's left foot.

"Fatty feet!" Sydette giggled.

"You gave me fat feet when you were in mi belly."

"No, I didn't!" Sydette said with a smirk on her face.

"Yeah, yuh did."

The doorbell rang and Yani didn't feel like getting up from her seat.

"Get the door, Sweet Pea. Ask who it is."

Sydette ran to the door.

"Who is it? What yuh want?"

"Sydette—"

"Your Daddy."

Sydette's face beamed.

"Can you twist the button?"

"Yes, Mama. I can do it."

The main bolt on the door was left unlocked for Twyla, but Sydette was able to turn the bottom lock.

Chez stepped into the room and scooped Sydette up in his arms.

"Detty!"

Chez tickled her stomach and Sydette laughed and tried to keep his hands from tickling her further.

"Her bag is by the door," Yani said trying to get up,

"Stay where you are. I got it," he said.

Picking up Sydette's weekend bag, Chez walked near Yani.

"You look big, gyal."

"Thanks, a lot," she said.

"I'm teasing. I'll bring her back early on Sunday."

"Okay."

"Twyla home?"

"No. She'll be back in a few hours? Why?"

"I know she's looking for a car. Wanted to see if she'd want mine."

"You selling it? Thought you loved that car."

Chez put Sydette down and raised up Yani's feet as he sat on the ottoman. He rested her legs on his lap and rubbed her feet for her.

"I'm moving to Florida. Found a good-paying factory job. Good hours. I can still make music. Perform in Miami and on the East coast. It's too expensive to ship my car over. Cheaper to get another car later when I get settled. Money will be tight for a couple of months, but I'll get Sydette's child support to you as soon as can. I have a better shot there."

Yani glanced over at Sydette who held the straps to her weekend bag on her shoulders.

"When are you leaving?"

"Next month."

Yani felt her forehead.

"You should have told us sooner, Chez."

"I just got the call. I have to go where the money is, gyal. You know that. I stay here and you'll bust my ass for not having my full child support."

He held his hands out for Sydette and she skipped over to him and rested her chest on Yani's legs.

"I'm sorry I won't be here to take Detty on the weekends. I can send for her with my sister and keep her at the end of the year once I'm settled—"

"No, this new one will be here then and I need my girl with me."

Yani scratched her belly. Chez stared at her hand.

"Ooh," Yani sighed while shifting her legs on Chez.

"Kicking?"

"Too much," she said.

Yani took in Chez's face. He looked hopeful. Ready to test his wings away from the island. It was bad enough having Sydette lose Killmonger. Now she was losing her biological father to distance and a chance at a better life.

"We will miss you," she said.

Chez's eyes seemed to spark at her words. She saw his eyes well up and she was surprised to see him cover his face with his hand.

"Chez," she whispered.

Sydette crawled up onto Yani's legs and touched her father's face.

"I'm alright Detty," he said lifting her weight off of Yani.

Yani moved her legs from the ottoman and rubbed Chez's back.

"I'm okay, Yani. You ready, Detty?"

"Yes!"

Chez stood with Sydette in his arms. Yani picked up her daughter's bag and handed it back to him.

"We'll talk later, yeah?" Yani said.

"I'll call you next week with more information. I'll be staying with my Uncle until I get my own place there. Say bye, Detty!"

"Bye, Mama."

"Give me kiss."

Sydette leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

"Give Dumplin a kiss."

Chez held Sydette upside down as peals of laughter erupted from her. She kissed Yani's belly.

Watching her daughter leave with Chez, Yani thought of how life changed in the blink of an eye all the time. She rested a hand on her stomach as she stood in the doorway tracking Chez helping Sydette into his car.

"Bye!" Sydette called while waving her hand.

"Bye, Sweet Pea. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

When they left, Yani stood and let the sun warm her face. The baby tumbled and then seemed to settle.

"I wish your daddy was here, Dumplin."

Patting her belly, Yani closed the door trying her best not to dwell on Killmonger for too long.

###

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fuck!

Sitting at a table inside a small Swedish café waiting for a sandwich and some decent coffee, Erik's eyes were glued to the tablet in his hand.

"Holy shit," Klaue said staring at Erik's device.

Other people in the café were staring at cell phones or their computers.

Erik couldn't believe it and he felt a cold dragging on his stomach.

He was already agitated watching King T'Chaka receive praise for his rousing speech giving support to signing the Sokovia Accords. The Avengers had made a deadly mess in Nigeria and over one hundred nations decided they needed to be regulated and controlled, and King T'Chaka's words were splashed all over the press. Public and private superheroes and other enhanced humans had to come forward and be counted, tracked, and given permission to act for good in the future. Erik was sure more vigilantes would break out, but he didn't give a fuck because Wakanda was the only thing he wanted. Once he had his father's nation in his hand, he would blow all these enhanced fools out of the water. Take them out if they couldn't bow down to him.

All Erik wanted to do was eat the perfect open-faced smoked-salmon sandwich and spend time out of the house and away from Linda and Limbano. He hadn't planned on watching his Uncle speak at the Vienna International Centre until Klaue told him that the King of Wakanda was on tv.

Regal, gray-haired, with glasses that gave him a gentle grandfatherly look, T'Chaka Udaku told the world how Ultron stole their vibranium and how his country would not stand by and let injustices continue.

The fucking audacity.

And just like that, Erik and the world watched the room explode and the cameras cut to news footage outside. Erik wanted to yell and jammed his nails into his hands to keep himself in his seat as he saw his grip on justice slip from his fingers.

Klaue's face was stuck in the firm grip of shock.

"This is going to change some things, Killmonger," Klaue said.

Words and images flew online fast and the explosion was quickly labeled a terrorist attack.

"There will be a lot of dead in that room, mate."

Rooted in his seat, it was confirmed soon enough.

King T'Chaka Udaku was dead.

Erik stormed out of the café and walked aimlessly through the street for half an hour. His personal cell blew up and when he looked to see who it was, he answered it.

"Uncle Bakari."

"Have you heard?"

"Yes."

"Are you alright? Where are you?"

Erik stopped walking and let the familiar sound of home focus him.

"I'm in Europe now. Saw the news in a café."

"How are you feeling, Nephew?"

"I don't feel nothin'…nothin' at all."

His Uncle knew he was lying. Erik's voice sounded heavy. Brittle.

"Erik…that was your Uncle, your father's brother—"

"That man ain't shit to me!"

People walking past Erik moved around him quickly because of his tone. He headed back to the café.

"I gotta go," Erik said.

"Call me later…if you want to talk. Shavonne and I are here for you."

"Okay."

Erik swiped his phone and he checked his other cell. Two texts from Klaue.

"Hey man, I'm heading back to the café. Had to take a call from home."

"I thought you were taking this explosion a little too hard, mate," Klaue said.

"Like you said, changes some things, but we'll work around it."

"I had the shop put your food in a to-go box. I'm heading back to the house. See you there."

"Cool."

Erik ignored the café and kept walking. His left hand pressed against the left side of his waist in the space he had saved to carve King T'Chaka into his skin. Stolen from him. Whoever the fuck killed his Uncle would feel his wrath eventually, but now Erik had to deal with T'Challa taking the throne.

Erik halted.

His cousin would have to take his father's body back to Wakanda. That would end all of his travels for the next few months. He'd be where Erik wanted him to be. Birnin Zana. The golden city. The terrorists had cheated Erik of one Udaku, but they had also made his endgame easier so he could have the other one. Losing his father in a violent way would have T'Challa rattled, he was sure of that. Erik knew what that felt like. A rattled King would also be a weak King. A distracted King. One who could easily be beaten.

Erik still felt a heaviness in his chest. There was fiery anger there. Something was stolen from him once more. King T'Chaka had escaped his due punishment and it sucked the energy out of Erik. When he returned to their hideout, he climbed the stairs ignoring everyone else and went to his room, throwing himself on his bed. His mind wouldn't let his body rest and he stayed up all night clenching and unclenching his fists. He tugged on the silver chain around his neck until his fingers clasped onto his father's ring.

###

The museum added additional security two days before the opening of the African Antiquities exhibit.

Linda was able to get a job as a barista there and spent a day walking the entire museum taking more secretive photos to make sure nothing had changed since Erik had surveyed it the previous year. She kept her eye on the lead curator, a grim-lipped white woman with an elitist attitude toward employees.

They hid in a flat less than a mile away from the museum. Erik planned logistics with Klaue and Limbano was able to locate a decommissioned ambulance for cheap purchase from a scrapyard. He also procured EMT uniforms for himself and Klaue.

"That woman is a fucking tyrant!"

Linda stormed into the apartment carrying take out from the corner pub. She went into her bedroom and changed clothes before rushing back out to finish her rant.

"I have never met a person with a stick so far up their ass—"

"Cutthroat museum director getting your dander up again?" Klaue heckled.

Erik and Klaue watched her fume near the window.

"She just does shit to pick on people…for no reason! Every fucking day she gets the same coffee from my section. We know how to make her beverage because she instructs us explicitly down to the most finite detail…and yet…it's never the right way. She's just contrarian for shits and giggles. Jesus, I don't know how regular people can take that day after day."

"But she always comes to you, right?" Erik asked.

"Yeah."

Erik stood up and walked over to her. Reaching into his pocket he handed her a small plastic two-inch bag. A yellowish-white powder sat inside of it.

"What is this meth?" Linda joked.

"On D-Day, put this in her coffee cup. Don't touch it with your hands."

"Fast-acting?"

"Nah. Slow burn. Timing is everything. The moment she sips, you hit me up."

Linda pocketed the poison and grabbed her take out container. She scarfed down a sausage sandwich.

"The plane is ready for Busan," Erik said.

"Limbano will take it over and secure housing," Klaue said.

"I have enough surveillance footage looped. Their security is very sensitive, so you will have a little over an hour to get in and out without them suspecting anything on their feed," Linda said.

Klaue stared at his phone.

"I'm trying to get some intel on Jo'Burg, but Huntsman has been avoiding me," he said.

Another tell.

Linda took a large bite of her sandwich and then wiped her lips as she stared at Klaue attempting to contact the dead merc. There was a lack of confidence in her eyes. A hint of…worry? When she stopped looking at Klaue her eyes darted up and Erik stood in front of her with a can of beer in his hand.

"Maybe he has another gig that he can't get out of," Erik said.

Linda's face froze, but then she reached for the beer and took it from him. He reached into her take-out container and grabbed a few fried chips. Popping them in his mouth, he kept his gaze on her, until she stood up to throw away her empty container.

"Well I need him," Klaue said.

Linda left the room and Erik turned on his laptop and studied the museum layout. The moment Linda fed the poison to the curator, Erik would have to maneuver himself into the exhibit hall, find the vibranium, and make sure the curator stayed near him. Reconnaissance video showed that she hovered throughout the space ninety-percent of the time, and if she was anal about her coffee, she would be anal about hawking his Black ass when he lingered around the room. Once she was down, they'd terminate distractors and make a body switch out into the ambulance smuggling out the vibranium. He just needed to find it quickly.

He switched his screen to the online exhibit brochure and paid attention to the pieces he suspected would be laden with the good stuff.

"What's going on with Bonnie?" Klaue asked.

"Bonnie?"

Klaue pointed to him.

"You're Clyde…she's Bonnie…for fucks sake. Bonnie and Clyde?"

Erik rolled his eyes.

"You two getting along?"

"Yeah."

"She seems distant…not distant…more like preoccupied."

Erik shrugged.

"She seems normal to me."

"Keep an eye on her."

"You getting bad vibes or something?"

"Not sure. I feel like she tiptoes around you. The usual banter between you two seems forced. Not as playful as it used to be."

"I think she's stressed because we are dealing with the C.I.A. now. A lot more hoops to jump through with them once we arrive in Busan."

"I don't think that's it."

"Want me to ask her what's up?"

"Yeah. If things are shaky—"

"I'll take care of it if it is."

Klaue patted Erik's thigh in an off-hand gesture as he stood up.

"Good boy," he said walking over to the window and pulling out a cigar from his shirt pocket.

###

Erik pulled on the non-prescription glasses once he arrived by taxi to the museum.

He made sure to pass by Linda's coffee cart as he strolled into the building. She had already looped the security feed. The morning crowd was gone and the afternoon patrons trickled in. A free public lecture on Benin art attracted a large crowd. He tapped an earbud in his right ear.

"Miss Sunshine has sipped her special brew," Linda said, "she's heading your way."

Erik slowed down and pretended to be interested in an oil painting. The museum director took another sip of her coffee and spotted Erik lingering. He eased away from the painting and headed toward the West African exhibit area. From his peripheral, he saw the director locked on him along with some suited security that tried to look discreet.

The moment he entered the exhibit hall, he steered himself to a glass exhibit displaying a few masks and metal spears. His vibram tattoo didn't itch, and the reflection of the glass showed the director's approach. Another white man in a suit and tie watched him also, his fingers clasped in front of him.

"Good morning, how can I help you?"

Her voice sounded annoyed. Erik turned his head to the left and looked at her with a smile on his face. Her eyes saw his gold slugs and he saw the internal shift she made to deal with him.

"I'm just checkin' out these artifacts. They tell me you're the expert"

"Ah, you could say that…"

Erik skillfully nudged her toward the display he was after. The itch in his gums let him know he had hit jackpot when he read the title cards. Aunt Serah was a fucking boss. Vibranium hidden as a mislabeled Fula hammer. Ole girl rubbed her stomach. Erik knew the poison was waking up in her body. She sounded so confident telling him where she thought the hammer came from. The bitch probably worked Aunt Serah's nerves.

"Nah…"

Her eyes glared at him and her mouth gave a small quirk as if she wanted to burp but couldn't.

"I beg your pardon," she said, her voice sounding surprised.

Erik gave her a quick once over.

"It was taken by British soldiers in Benin, but it's from Wakanda…and it's made out of vibranium."

The rasp in his voice startled her and she clutched her stomach a little harder.

Erik smirked.

"Don't trip, I'ma take it off your hands for you."

"These items aren't for sale."

She elongated the word sale in a way meant to put Erik in his place. The slow rise of heated anger rose in his gut. Fucking thieves.

"How do you think your ancestor's got these? You think they paid a fair price? Or did they take it like they took everything else?"

The bite in his voice startled her. He saw one of the security men inch closer to them.

"Sir I'm going to have to ask you to leave…"

Her voice stopped and she looked toward her minions as she coughed. Erik stepped in close and whispered in her ear.

"You got all this security in here watching me…ever since I walked in. But you ain't checkin' for what you put in your body."

The director gasped and looked at her coffee cup.

"Klaue and Limbano are in position," Linda said in his ear.

Erik smiled.

"C'mon mate…"

A security guard tugged on Erik's jacket, pulling him away from the distressed director.

"I think she might not be feelin' too good…"

The director dropped like a pile of bricks hitting the floor.

"Jam those phones, Linda," Erik whispered.

Erik called for help loudly as three security men surrounded the director on the floor.

"Klaue, Limbano…you're on deck," Linda said.

Less than five minutes later Klaue and Limbano came running in with a stretcher.

"Step back please, gents, step back please," Klaue yelled.

The guards ushered museum-goers toward the exit in the opposite direction. Erik lingered and watched Klaue.

Pistols with high-grade silencers were used to take out two of the guards. Klaue toyed with the third giving the man false hope of survival.

"You can go, but just don't tell anyone, alright?"

Klaue winked at the guard and the man took off running. He let him get twenty feet away before he nickeled the man's brains. The body fell hard.

"Bruh, why you ain't just shoot him right here?"

"Because it's better to leave the crime scene more spread out…makes us look like amateurs."

"I'll meet you guys outside," Linda said in his ear.

"Let's do this," Erik said, guiding Klaue to the vibranium.

Klaue took off the glove on his prosthetic hand and held it up to the exhibit. A sonic pulse shattered the glass and Klaue grabbed the Wakandan hammer. He used his pulse sensors to gently shake off centuries of rust and grit and history. He smelled the metal and laughed.

"You better sell that quick."

"Oh it's already sold," Klaue said bragging. He broke the handle off of the tool and glanced at Limbano to move.

A mask caught Erik's eyes.

He moved over to the standing display and leaned down to look it over carefully.

Regal horns crowned the top as intricate and very detailed carving told a bold story on the blue and steel gray stained wood. The title card said "Warrior Mask, Benin 17th Century". Erik snatched the mask off the metal rod it sat on.

"You're not telling me that's vibranium too, eh?"

"Nah, I'm just feelin' it."

###

Yani's favorite part of laundry day was pulling clean clothes out of the dryer and then folding them. Especially when she tossed in a laundry freshener sheet and everything smelled extra clean.

A clean rain fell outside as she put away Sydette's clothes and her own. She had even washed some of her daughter's old newborn outfits that she would use for Dumplin.

Sydette was sound asleep on her bed in the room she shared with Yani, and once everything was put away, Yani waddled out to the living room where Twyla was braiding Leona's hair and watching tv.

Yani stepped into the kitchen to make herself some fresh cocoa on the stove. She put milk in a saucepan on low and closed the kitchen window. The baby was resting easy inside of her. The day had been a calm one lugging that child inside of her around. One day she would see her feet again and be reacquainted with her toes.

"Yani!"

Twyla's loud shriek startled her and Yani moved as fast as she could back into the living room. Leona was grabbing the remote from Twyla and turning the sound up. The BBC news was on. Klaue's picture took up half the screen on the wall.

"Them find his body," Leona said.

"Shh! Let's hear it," Twyla hissed.

A British-Indian woman anchor told a horrible narrative and Yani wanted to cover her ears, but she stood with a heavy belly, wide-eyed and mouth open as the world was informed that the notorious arms dealer, Ulysses Klaue of South Africa, was found dead in Korea with two others. A woman. And another man. All of Klaue's business was put out into the world and even Twyla's face showed shock because of what the man was accused of doing for so many years. Killing. Arms dealing. Illegal transactions all over the world.

It was all sordid and nasty and so much more horrifying seeing it on the tv.

Killmonger was part of that, and now—

"Yani!"

Twyla moved away from the chair Leona sat in and grabbed Yani's shoulders and eased her onto the couch.

"I'm okay, I just felt a little faint," Yani said.

The headline news moved on to other things and Leona turned down the sound and switched channels.

"They didn't say his name," Yani insisted out loud.

"Calm down," Twyla said.

"They just said Klaue, and then a man and a woman. And there were no photos of him."

Her voice took on a pleading quality.

"Something's burning," Leona said rushing into the kitchen.

"Him not dead. He can't be—"

"They didn't say his name, so no one knows."

"I can look online."

Yani tried to get up, but her weight made it hard to move quickly enough. She felt the baby kicking her side and she gasped. The sharpness hurt. She had upset Dumplin.

"Relax cuz. Be easy, yeah?"

Yani nodded and leaned back.

"Whatever you were trying to make, that milk is ruined," Leona said.

Yani closed her eyes.

Please let me know you're okay, man.

Other news channels that mentioned Klaue only said the same thing. He was shot and killed and found in Korea. Two other bodies with him.

There was nothing Yani could do. Fretting about it would just get her worked up and the baby would feel it. So she focused on getting through the rest of the day with Sydette. Dinner. Bath time. Storytelling time. Sleep.

Yani curled her body around soft pillows and tried to rest her mind. She had to accept not knowing for sure. In the middle of the night, she lumbered out of bed and went to the living room to look on her laptop for any more information. Just various networks giving brief mentions, and then just as quick as the story came…it went.

A week went by and nothing new was reported. Her Aunt was now unemployed permanently from the man. And poor Jerome. Who would spoil him now if they couldn't walk onto the compound anymore? He would think that everyone abandoned him.

So silly. To worry about an iguana as much as she worried about her baby's father.

She touched her chest as her face grew tight. None of her children had their fathers in their life at that moment. Sydette would see Chez eventually in a few months, but Dumplin? Dumplin just had her.

She groaned and lowered her head. Breathing through her mouth she squeezed her hands into fists.

"Oh Lord," she whispered out loud.

She placed her right hand under her stomach.

"Twyla," she called out.

She stood up from the chair in the kitchen.

"Twyla."

"Yeah?"

Her cousin twisted her hair as she stepped into the room.

Yani grabbed a cup and poured water into it from a bottle. She concentrated on swallowing every drop and then turned to face her cousin.

"Dumplin is coming."

"Right now?"

"My contractions are now about thirty minutes apart. I've been keeping track all day."

"All day? You've been in labor all day?"

Twyla's face was bewildered.

"This is baby number two, remember?"

Yani grinned but Twyla's face was still frozen with surprise.

"I'll call Auntie and your Mom."

"Good. I'm going to walk a bit and track my progress while I call my doctor."

"Okay."

Twyla ran to the living room and Yani walked into her bedroom. Sydette was on her bed playing with her dolls.

"Hey, Sweet Pea. Go put your jacket and shoes on. Dumplin is coming."

Sydette's face lit up and she gave a loud whoop as she scrambled to find her shoes.

Yani held both sides of her stomach as she looked down at it.

"Hold on. Give me some time to get to the hospital, yeah?"

Sydette ran out of the room.

"Auntie! Auntie! The baby is coming!"

Yani smiled.

"Take your time, Dumplin. No rush, love. I'm here for you."

###

She was so tired.

By the time the last relative left the house and Sydette was put to bed sound asleep, Yani was able to sit in her new rocking chair and feed the baby. Fourth day home with the newborn and every relative had finally gotten a chance to see the bad man on the hill's child.

Dumplin.

Erik Paradise Galiber-Stevens.

Affectionately known as Riki by the rest of the family.

Nine pounds, four ounces.

Twyla took one look at him and exclaimed, "Dumplin? Tuh, this child is a beef patty."

The boy had the lustiest cry when he came out from between Yani's legs. Twyla cried the entire time she held Yani's hand in her private maternity room. Sydette had a side seat to watch everything and she was a better coach than her cousin. Her mother held Sydette and when her baby brother came out heavy and healthy, Sweet Pea shouted, "Don't cry, I'll help you!"

She had to have stitches, but she was glad that the birth wasn't as labor intensive as Sydette's had been. By the time she was rolled into the hospital to have him, Riki was out three hours later. Fat, vibrant, and restless. Arms and legs constantly moving like he had somewhere to go.

"Are you still sure about 'Paradise'?" Twyla said watching her breastfeed her son.

"What's wrong with that for a middle name? He was conceived in paradise and I want him to know that. What do you think it should be?"

"Lil Big Nigga—"

"Shut up!"

"He on them titties like his Daddy—"

"Twyla!"

"You know it's true."

"Nasty."

"Runs in the family. Before I forget—"

Twyla walked into her room and came back with a handful of mail.

"This all came to Auntie's house addressed to you. It was forwarded from your old place. All your bills."

Yani tilted Riki's head back and wiped his lips.

"Can you burp him for me?"

Yani took the mail as Twyla took the baby.

"Oh, stop fussing, you can have them titties again in a minute, greedy boy. Yuh Mama not going anywhere…Yani…what is it?"

"This came from Korea."

Yani felt her heart patter a little faster.

The manilla envelope had a typed address label on it for her apartment. The return address was written in Korean. The stamped date was recent. Five days previous.

"Open it," Tywla encouraged.

Yani took her time tearing open the flap. She took a deep breath and pulled out several sheets of heavy paper. She stared at them, looking over every single one carefully. When she lifted her eyes up to Twyla, she could barely breathe.

"Yuh scaring me cuz."

Yani was still in pain from having the baby, so she couldn't jump up like she wanted. She opened her mouth but she couldn't get words out.

"Yani…fuck…what is it?"

"Me and Auntie…"

"You and Auntie what?"

"We own the compound. These are deeds to all three houses."

Yani stared at the thick papers.

"Auntie gets the first house. I get Klaue's house, and we both share the middle house. It's the fucking deeds. We own everything free and clear."

"Yuh fucking lying!"

Riki whimpered from the volume of Twyla's voice.

"Killmonger did this. I know it. It's Klaue's signature on the transfer of everything, but…this is Killmonger."

Yani stared at her newborn son, his silky curls, button nose, full lips, and bright brown eyes so perfect. So much like his father.

"Dumplin, your Daddy gave us everything."

Part 30 Conclusion HERE

###

Tag List:

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@allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky

@raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514 @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow @janelledarling

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

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @bugngiz @stariamrry @honeytoffee @meilintheempressofdreams

@tyees @eye-raq @writerbee-ffs @chocolatedream30 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

#wet sugar #killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens #n'jadaka #klaue #black panther fanfiction

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lilmistermaya · 4 years ago

Text

opm fic: what about everything pr 2

(presented with minimal editing!

“Oh yeah, king, I’m having a baby.” she told him off handedly while they tried out a new fighting game. He grunted, executing a flawless combo that killed her character. “Asshole!”

“Wait, a baby?” he blinked as it sunk in. “you’ll need a bigger place that's… you know, not in a dangerous wasteland.”

“...yeah. HA has free places for class A heroes but… ug.”

“Free is free. Or I can see if there are units in my building.”

“Your place costs an arm and a leg.” she flopped back, sighing. She had started stocking up and there wasn’t much room for anything in here. She liked this place, it was simple, but… “guess I can’t get cheaper than free.”

The balcony doors slid open, sonic letting himself in. King froze, his heartbeat filling the room. The ninja was in his work clothes, weapons visible and was that blood on him?

“Not my blood.” he grunted, shedding weapons before stretching out on the floor. In a few moments he was asleep, face terrifying even when relaxed.

“Ahh, saitama?”

“That’s sonic, he’s a ninja. Like everyone else, he just stops by whenever. And no, he’s not the baby daddy.”

“Oh okay.” he eyed him again. “What if people think I’m the father?”

“Let them.” she shrugged, sitting up to start a rematch. “I’ll get the hate mail anyway.”

Two rounds later, she poked sonic’s foot, easily catching the knife swung her way when he woke up. “Morning sunshine.”

“Eh.” he grunted, half glaring from under his bangs. “What?” okay, so woke up wasn’t the correct term, he was still half asleep.

“Go take a bath, dinner will be done soon. And don’t fall asleep in the tub.”

“Don’t have a change of clothes.”

“Borrow some of mine or something. You should start keeping a bag here.”

“Kay.” he pulled something out of her closet, padding to the bathroom.

“...what?”

“You asked him to leave clothes here.” Now, he hadn’t dated before, but he’d watched plenty of sitcoms and such.

“Yeah, so? If he’s going to come here all a mess, he might as well have stuff to change into.”

“...have you ever dated before?”

“Have you seen me? Who’d want to.” King wanted to say that there were more than a few people who wanted to, but kept quiet. This was Saitama's thing to get over. “Anyway, if you’re going to eat here, help me set out the table.”

Sonic padded out a little while later, damp and smelling of saitama’s soap, in her loose clothes. He looked a bit more awake now. Saitama turned to him, pressing a hand on his forehead, then smiling. It was such a casual, gentle gesture that King’s eyes widened. She said he wasn’t the baby daddy, but- he should be careful, just in case this small, well-armed man decided to be territorial.

“Oh yeah, sonic, this is king. He hangs out here. Don’t hurt him.”

Sonic tilted his head, sharp eyes taking every inch of him from foot to head. It took all he had to not to run screaming, caught between terror and arousal. He was very, very hot, especially with his hair damp, hanging down and an oversized t-shirt hanging off of one shoulder. A shoulder that was criss-crossed with scars and well muscled.

Apparently he was found to be harmless, the ninja flipping his hair and moving like a dancer to the kitchen.

Shit. he was going to have to start bringing a change of pants from now on.

Saitama caught him staring at sonic’s back, grinning and elbowing him in the ribs. “Scary is your type, eh?”

“I, uh- he is… pretty.” saitama took in a sharp breath.

“Yeah. he is.” it almost sounded like she just realized it. “He’s nice once you get to know him.”

“I’m sure.”

King excused himself after supper, and the three settled in. Saitama watched the news, sonic sprawled out next to her. He was… it must be pregnancy hormones. Because he looked so nice with his hair down, just relaxed and his face soft. She moved her hand, slowly, towards his, just until her pinkie touched his. And then he slid his calloused hand on top of hers, and for a moment they were holding hands under the table. This was… nice.

“Master, your heart rate is elevated! Are you okay?”

They snatched their hands away, the moment suddenly broken.

“I-I’m fine!”

“I should go!” he was red, “it’s getting late.” he was on his feet, running to the bathroom to change into his now-clean work clothes.

“Hey!” he popped back in, already changed. “You be careful, okay. Don’t wear yourself out so bad.”

“I- okay.” his eyes were wide, as if this concept was new to him.

“I need you in one piece.”

He turned red, and then he was gone.

“Did I say something wrong, master?” genos asked, looking confused as to what just happened.

“No, you didn’t.” she sighed. It had been a nice moment, while it lasted. She shouldn’t worry, he was strong.

It just suddenly became important to her that he did come back.

#fem!saitama #pregnancy #sonic/saitama #speed of sound sonic #one punch man #fiction #I need validation so badly

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void-knights · 4 years ago

Text

The Coffee Shop and Students

Square Filled: Coffee Shop AU Pairing: Loki / Sigyn, Tags: coffee shop AU, Modern AU, Music Student Loki, Art Student Sigyn, Odin's A+ Parenting, Bisexual Loki, Bisexual Sigyn, Customers being terrible, Casual misogyny Summary: Since Odin cut him off Loki (a music student) needed a job while attending Uni, this is how he becomes an exhausted Barista and how he meets Sigyn a sunny art student. Word Count: 7630 Written/Created for @lokibingo

AO3 Link

Loki had never understood Odin, Odin had been boasting to all his friends and associates that Loki had got into the best university. Loki was going to be standing amongst the elites of their country, it would open so many opportunities for him, especially amongst the government. It delighted Odin to no end.

“I’m studying music,” had been the words that made Odin give up on that one instance of pride and instead he went back to praising Thor who was heading off to get himself killed in the military, just like Odin wanted. As if that had gone so well for the PTSD riddled Hela who now worked in a wolf sanctuary up north somewhere.

Sometimes Loki thought Hela had the right idea. Give up and go to live in the wilds with a pack of wolves and a bunch of people who just understood you instead of trying to please everyone.

Still, Loki attended university, he had won this chance and was not about to give up on his dreams. But Odin made an ultimatum, while he would pay for Loki’s education no matter what (no child of his would be in debt) he was not supporting Loki any further if he continued to study music instead of politics.

Loki took the money for his courses and didn’t look back, until he blew through his savings at the age of nineteen and found himself in need of a job. How hard could it being a Batista be?

He was now twenty-one and understood just how fucking difficult it was. The job in of itself was easy, once he memorized the prices, the way to make the teas, coffees and hot sandwiches he was set. What was difficult was the dammed customers. Some he liked, some he dreaded, some he hated and some he forgot because they were either unremarkable or never ever returned.

His previous coffee shop had been two hours away from his dorms, this new one was twenty minutes on foot and ten on a bike. He preferred the manager, a stout cheerful red haired man who was understanding and didn’t make rude remarks about anyone who deviated from the norm. His previous manager had been a nightmare to work with, he was never happy.

The routine was fairly similar, the manager let the students do their work so long as it didn’t interfere with their jobs and the running of this place. For students like Loki there was not much practical work he could be doing, unlike Steve and his constant drawing, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make a dent in his research.

(Steve Rogers also happened to be one of his roommates which is how he found this job in the first place, the other two being Anthony Stark – slumming it with other students much to the delight of Odin who wanted Loki to be the billionaire’s best friend – and Natasha Romanov, she spoke Russian when angry or exhausted and somehow knew everyone. Loki was fairly certain she was either in a dance, theatre or art course.)

One bitterly cold autumnal day she arrived, the woman with the golden-red curly hair and tan freckled skin. He’d never seen freckles on lips before, he thought it just lipstick until he realized the exhausted woman wasn’t wearing any make up. Understandable given it was currently six in the morning on a Friday.

She was exhausted but lovely, it was as though someone had given both autumn and summer physical form and blessed her with a cute smile and odd taste in jumpers.

Steve looked up from his sketchbook, “Siggy, you’re back?”

“No I’m haunting you, whooooo,” she said waving her hands about, Loki stared, her mittens (that turned into gloves when folded back) were snake mouths. It was like having a pair of Kermit the frog heads for hands but yellow with red eyes.

“You promised to haunt Nat first,” Steve said pushing himself away from the counter half amused.

“Nobody living or dead has the balls for that,” ‘Siggy’ half shouted watching the blonde vanish into the back office. Loki heard Steve laugh, he had to agree with the pair of them, there was nobody could handle that. At least being dead was an advantage.

Steve returned slapping a pair of keys into the woman’s hand, “Now you have to buy something,” he said pointing to the menu, “Two items please.”

“It’s blackmail then?” the woman laughed, “Give me my usual.”

“No, that will kill you this early in the morning, try green tea instead, it’s good for you,”

“Such a mother hen, I know what I’m about and I want an eight shot espresso,”

“One large Coffee pitch black and a sandwich,” Steve countered.

“Deal,” the woman sighed dramatically folding back her mittens and digging out change from her jeans pocket. She got her order and left, her umbrella was also yellow, a bright yellow stood out in the grey gloom of the rainy morning.

“Who was that?” Loki asked Steve.

“Oh that, that’s Sigyn,” Steve answered sounding bored as though she was not the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. Steve was boring, Steve needed better eyes or glasses or everything, how could he not see what an attractive delightful woman Sigyn was? “We’re looking at houses together, so she’s borrowing my car.��

Loki’s mind skidded to a halt, what? They were only twenty-one, Steve didn’t come from money, he got into this very exclusive university through his exceptional talents, grants and only one loan. Which meant Sigyn-

“-Oh,” Steve looked up from his sketchbook, “You should join us,” it was half six in the morning nobody could blame Loki’s brain for conjuring images of sharing a bed with Steve and Sigyn, both were gorgeous.

Sense came back to him, Steve was dating Bucky, so why was Steve looking at houses with Sigyn?

“So we don’t have to spend the next couple of years in uni dorms, Sigyn is going for her masters and doctorate like me,” Steve answered Loki’s unasked question, he was rather good at that, Loki blinked, “It’s cheaper than the university dorms, so you’ll be saving money.”

“Who else have you asked?” Loki asked interested in the idea, anything to save money would help and the university dorms weren’t the best place to keep on living. They had rats inspecting the property.

“Natasha, Sam, Bucky and Tony, Tony asked Rhodey and I’m asking you, that should make up the numbers,” Steve said.

“Eight people?” Loki frowned.

“Bucky and I will be sharing a room, I think Rhodey’s happy to share with Tony and if they need to Sigyn will share with Natasha,” Steve said.

Loki considered it carefully, while more expensive Loki had his roommates had signed up for short term leases, by the semester in case they ever wanted to move out for any reasons. They had quickly learned by the first year that the dorms were not ideal but living on their own was impossible, this seemed an ideal solution.

“Well we have until the end of the first semester, let me know a week before I have other people interested,” Steve said and Loki nodded, thinking it over and not just because of the potential of getting to know Sigyn more.

A customer walked in, she carried a snotty toddler on her hip, a second kid walked alongside her and an exhausted teenager followed her decked out in every single awful thing Loki used to wear as an aspiring goth with delusions of what constituted good taste. It was nice to know some things never changed.

Loki played rock paper scissors with Steve, he won, until the snotty three-year-old was let loose and put his snotty hands all over the glass display unit. Steve smugly grinned at him as Loki went to retrieve the cleaning supplies, it didn’t help that the kid was now coughing and sneezing over everything.

“Ma’am please can you keep your child by your side,” Steve said, Steve was bright-eyed and bushy tailed even after years in retail, how? How was that possible, Loki’s charity towards customers had been chipped away within a month.

Of course the woman ignored him and let her kid do what they want, Loki couldn’t help it if the toddler tripped over his foot and crashed into its other sibling. He couldn’t help it if the mother carried the pair off embarrassed, but not as embarrassed as the teenager who paid for their order and carried it out for their mother.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that,” Steve said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Loki grinned pleased with himself.

*****

Loki decided he hated customers when one cold evening one customer loudly decided to shout at Loki for having his long hair pulled into a ponytail and did he dare wear nail polish how dare he!

Steve of course stood up for Loki, because that was who Steve was, he wasn’t like his family who would happily laugh alongside the customer about how stupid Loki looked. Steve pointed out that this was a free country and that Loki tied his hair back for hygiene reasons, anyone with long hair had to do that regardless of gender.

Because Steve believed in things like freedom of speech, expression and so didn’t give a shit about your gender or sex. The woman shamed by Steve and his righteous speech took her coffee and slunk out of the coffee shop her tail between her legs.

“My hero,” Loki drawled causing Steve’s cheeks to pink, “So confident, I can feel the righteous surging!” Steve shook his head, “Hey want a rousing discussion about truth? Honour, patriotism, god bless-”

“I get it, you love me, lets move on,” Steve sighed completely resigned to Loki’s way of thanking him.

“Aww,” Both Steve and Loki turned to see Sigyn standing there, “Personally I’ve been on the end of Steve’s speeches, great as they are they tend to amp you up, you could lead an army with Steve’s speeches.”

“Take your heart attack juice and leave,” Steve said already filling a cup with eight espressos.

“That’s no way to speak to a customer!” Loki faked shock.

“Yes, how dare you!” Sigyn grinned, this is why Steve didn’t want Sigyn and Loki meeting, it would either be amazing or terrible, “I have rights as a customer!”

“I would demand compensation, a cheese and bacon toastie for instance,” Loki smirked at Sigyn.

“I – I wait what… excuse… what, Steeeeeeve, you did-”

“-No you, Sig are not allowed any more cheese at night,” Mother Hen Steve warned her, “Cheese gives you weird nightmares remember.”

“But it tastes so good! And that’s where the best ideas come from,” Sigyn said.

“It’s her right as a free patriot to eat cheese whenever she wants,” Loki said, yep Steve regretted them meeting. He decided it was worse than introducing Tony to Bruce and Jane Foster, the science trio were mad bastards doing crazy shit.

“Yes,” Sigyn nodded, “It is my democratic right to eat cheese and have weird nightmares. Now gimmie.”

“Even the nightmare about the tap dancing pig?” Steve asked, how he did that with a straight face baffled Loki, but he did.

“There were sooo many nipples,” Sigyn whispered haunted by some weird idea that did not seem that horrific until Loki noticed her frightened expression. “I change my mind,” She relented as Steve slid her order to her, “What time does your shift end?”

“Ten thirty why?” Steve asked checking the clock, an hour to go.

“I need your friend, the crazy bloke that talks to things?” that could only be one person.

“Tony,” Steve said

“Yeah, him, I need him to look at my laptop, it’s being a right old bastard, I think he might me on his last legs,” Sigyn sighed dramatically.

“Well you can wait here and walk back with us if you want,” Steve offered, Sigyn nodded and smiled thanking Steve as she claimed a peaceful corner all to herself.

The majority of the shift was spent dealing with people who were just starting out on their night out. Their manager closed up the shop after everything was done and kicked them out was he was sure everything was done for a second time.

The walk back to their dorms was a short walk filled with brief conversation and many yawns.

As soon as they were inside their dorm they were greeted by Tony and Natasha debating which was the best way to enjoy popcorn. Steve being the gentleman he was offered to take Sigyn’s black military coat, it hung alongside the other coats, her mittens stashed away in the pockets.

“Bacon popcorn is my go to,” Sigyn admitted pulling her bag to the side to take out her laptop.

“A woman after my heart,” Tony grinned at her.

“Good, fix my laptop genius,” Sigyn said handing it to him, “I got stuff I need protecting.”

“Like your porn stash?” Tony snickered.

“No, who keeps porn on their laptop in this day and age, get a pornhub account,” Sigyn said without any shame, Steve rolled his eyes while Tony laughed, “Fix him, he’s got my research and digital works, he’s not giving them up.”

“Greedy bastard,” Tony laughed with her.

Loki didn’t have much opportunity to spend time with Sigyn beyond handing her a bottle of water, she was too busy hovering over Tony and her laptop like a mamma duck waiting for her duckling to return. Of course the old as fuck (it didn’t take a genius to see how old her laptop was) laptop was on it’s last legs.

But Tony being Tony backed everything up on a portable SSD drive for Sigyn and told her not to worry about the cost of the thing, he recommended Laptops within her budget but said she couldn’t really expect to do much artwork beyond them, especially 3D stuff.

Sigyn thanked him and went along her way, Tony being Tony bought Sigyn a laptop. Steve said that she had beat him half to death trying to get him to send it back, Tony stuck an unreasonable amount of stickers on the laptop so no. He couldn't send it back.

Apparently Sigyn was pleased but annoyed that he had been so nice, whatever she got him in return made the young man giggle and blush. They never told anyone what it was.

*****

Sigyn returned to the coffee shop one warmer autumnal afternoon wearing a faded white band shirt with holes around the V-neck, jeans worn and weathered with time and patched with embroidery with paint stained army boots and bracelets around her wrists. Her curly hair was braided, half cornrows on her left side and half box braids on the right with beads and charms hanging from the braids.

Today Steve had the day off leaving Loki to suffer with Jane, well no that was a lie. He liked Jane, he didn’t like her dating his brother (who was four years older than her) and neither of them had the warmth and cheer that Steve had, that cheer and warmth kept them going. Instead, Jane and Loki wallowed in their misery as customers made their lives hell.

One in particular seemed to think slapping Jane’s arse was a good idea, he of course was equally horrified when he slapped Loki’s arse only to find out Loki was a dude.

“Usual?” Loki asked a little amused when she seemed surprised he would remember.

“Actually no, it’s pumpkin spice season,” Sigyn patted out a beat, “Give me a large pumpkin spice latte.”

“You can pay for it like anyone else,” Loki grinned, it took a few seconds to realize what Loki meant before she laughed a little ducking her head. Several beads clicked against one another.

It was thanks to the lack of customers at this hour (either Sigyn was a pro at avoiding customers – which if the case, she needed to teach him that skill – or she worked weird hours. Being an art student he couldn’t decide which was the right choice,) that he was able to continue talking to her.

Sigyn sipped her latte pleased with the taste, there was a reason it was so dammed popular and it wasn’t because it was famous – or infamous. She savoured the spices as studied Loki closely.

He wasn’t what she had expected when Steve first talked about him, she was expecting some posh guy who wore jumpers and talked on a diamond encrusted I-Phone. Loki was quite… normal, well terms of fashion, in terms of looks he was pleasing on the eye.

“So Steve tells me you’re a music student?” She asked thinking given his background he would be some sort of classical music star someday. She had no idea what went into music, she liked what she liked and that was that.

“I am,” was all Loki added much to her frustration, until he laughed and added, “I have always had the talent, since I first played the piano.”

“Ah, so you are a classical musician?” she asked, he looked more like he belonged in a Scandinavian heavy metal or folk band, she couldn’t get a good grasp on him.

“Not classical no,” He smirked, and she was left annoyed once again, the tease. She had to leave due to her classes starting soon, that and a new line of customers arrived, she bid Loki a fond goodbye and walked away.

Jane stared at Loki, “You like Sigyn huh?”

“What’s not to like about her?” Loki asked.

“She does have a nice arse,” Jane agreed, that wasn’t her only ‘nice’ feature but Loki didn’t say it out loud and instead set to work getting the next round of orders in.

*****

It was one of those weeks, Loki was battling with a mental block, papers were due, he had run out of shampoo and resorted to Natasha’s so now he had to deal with frizzy hair and worst of all the customers.

The company had decided in their eternal wisdom to release a complicated new creation to beat their competition, this bastard of a concoction was named the ‘Halloween Unicorn’ it was a nightmarish creation of a kid that had been fed too much sugar.

Yet apparently the customers all loved it, it was an over glorified pumpkin spice latte with extras that came with its own Halloween themed cup. But it was popular, so popular that they had sold out on day two after Instagram stars starting peddling it.

Now everyone needed a picture with one, most frustrating were the people who tossed their drinks after getting the pictures. Having to empty rubbish bins that were half filled with coffee was no pleasant task. Thankfully they had heavy-duty bags that did not leak (after years of experimentation) the downside, they were heavy.

God forbid they run out of the special cups or the unicorn horns and unicorn shaped biscuit and sprinkles that the dammed drinks came with. What was wrong with a basic pumpkin latte?

Sigyn was the next customer not that Loki noticed in his exhausted state, not until she smiled at him, customers did not usually smile at him.

“Pumpkin Latte please,” she requested and Loki almost wept with joy, no overly fancy orders, just a simple god fearing pumpkin spice latte. She dropped her usual tip in the tip jar and took her order with no fuss or additional stress.

She was seated by the window perched on her bar stool making use of the Wi-Fi as she typed away on her brand-new laptop. It was a garish yellow colour that somehow suited Sigyn completely. He took the next order, things were looking up, this woman asked for a completely normal black coffee.

Then the new wave of unicorn lattes started pouring in, rush hour meant all hands on deck. Steve and Jane were manning the coffee orders, their manager took care of the food and Loki was left to deal with the customers, he rang up the orders and passed them on. He barely noticed Sigyn leaving, he couldn’t call out to her which annoyed him.

It was five in the evening when things started to die down, the students had been dealt with and the customers were thinning.

“Back again?” Steve asked sounding amused by something.

There stood Sigyn, her curly hair pulled back and held by a piece of cloth, her left cheek smeared with a blackish paint. She wore blue painters overalls with yellow wellington boots.

“Only because I get a freebie,” she said presenting the stamp card.

“Pumpkin spice?” Steve didn’t need to ask, he was already making the drink.

“Yes, feed me,” Sigyn whispered.

“Have you spent your weekly budget already?” Steve asked.

“It’s Saturday be in awe that I lasted this long,” She said as Steve went to check with their manager that it was fine giving his friend free food.

Their manager being nice and Steve being the best worker he had meant that Sigyn got her food. “So how’s your project going?” Steve asked delivering the food to Sigyn’s stable by the window.

As Sigyn took her first bite of the bacon and egg grilled sandwich the moan she uttered did things to Loki, things that he should not be experiencing in a coffee shop, “Ah uh,” Sigyn wiped the bit of egg off her bottom lip, Loki struggled to tear his eyes away from her, “Well, I completed it.”

Steve looked up annoyed, “You… of course you did,” He sighed resigned to his fate it seemed.

He couldn’t listen in on the rest of the conversation because a customer came up to the counter, the woman had an expression that screamed she could either be a sane and nice customer or about to make their lives hell for the next ten minutes.

She chose hell.

“It’s not very professional to have your hair like that ,” she said to Loki, his hair was in a ponytail for sanitary, health and safety reasons, not for fashion purposes.

He was used to it, “May I take your order, please?” he asked she would need to do better than that to get through the thick skin retail and service work had endowed him with.

“You shouldn’t have your nails painted,” she said, he was wearing gloves again for sanitary and health reasons, they all did.

Loki simply met her stare which made her uncomfortable, “Ma’am may I take your order please, there are other customers waiting,” he pointed out to her politely.

The woman huffed and puffed, was she somehow expecting to magically summon the manager from his office? Loki waited, the customers were telling her to hurry up and that just would not do. She broke down completely, shouting at Loki.

It was oddly nostalgic. Like Yuletide with the family. Until her words struck a particularly raw nerve, the string of homophobic slurs she spewed left the few people that did not have their phones pulling out their phones to film what was happening.

That summoned the manager, who being ex-army took no shit. The woman left without her unicorn latte (thank fuck for small mercies) and a polite banning by the manager.

Loki tried not to let such things affect him, after all she was just a nameless woman, one of many that passed through this store. But that did not mean her words did not sting. Steve took over the counter allowing Loki to make the coffee’s in peace, the woman’s tirade made people overly generous with their tips, which was nice at least.

Sigyn was sat at her usual spot, when he looked up he caught her eye she offered him a smile before returning to her work. It was an hour later when they had no customers that Loki went to sit with her, to learn what she was working on.

She had pulled off the top half off her overalls, wrapping the sleeves around her waist to prevent the rest falling down as she worked on her essay. For an art student she was muscular and very freckled, there didn’t seem to be an inch free of freckles.

“I’ve got to write an essay on Edmund Dulac,” She said he had no idea who that was, so she turned her screen to him, he nodded still having no clue who he was. “Are you okay?” she asked him which for a few moments baffled him completely.

He realized she was talking about the incident with the woman, “Yes, it is something you have to get used to,” he said she looked annoyed on his behalf.

Fiddling with a leather bracelet Sigyn smiled at him, “It’s not the most ideal time but I can’t keep faffing about with this, do you uh, well not coffee how about uh drinks sometime, with me?” she asked him.

It took him a moment to get over how adorable she was when she was flustered, that blush warming her warm brown skin beautifully. “You are asking me out?”

“Y-yep,” She nodded, “I mean, if you want to?” she was fascinated to know what he looked like outside the coffee shop.

“Okay,” he nodded.

“Wait really?” She asked surprised why? She was gorgeous, she was the beauty that most people on social aspired to be. “Oh, alright, um, my phone number,” she said.

He slid his phone in her direction, so she could type it in, “Why are you so surprised?” Loki asked her really wanting to know.

“Oh you know, because your hot and I thought you might already be dating someone and well It’s uh been a while since I’ve dated anyone,” She admitted handing him his phone back.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been in an actual relationship with anyone, he had taken to one-night stands, mostly to experiment with his sexuality and try to pin it down. Sigyn smiled at him, and he believed her at that moment, she really was attracted to him for some reason.

Wasn’t that interesting?

*****

It was near the end of autumn by the time Sigyn and Loki could find the time to just spend a day together, what with their conflicting schedules, work and deadlines. But in the meantime they texted, messaged, phoned one another even taking a few moments to talk and get to know each other in the coffee shop.

It wasn’t as though they were strangers when they finally met up then, but they didn’t really know each other that well either. It helped calm him down as he stood waiting for her in the meeting spot.

Perhaps it had not been the greatest idea to come dressed in his usual blacks, with dashes of green and gold here and here. Some older folks were certainly disapproving of the way he dressed making him double guess his choices.

There was a part of him that wondered if Bruce was right, and he should have toned down his wardrobe for first impressions outside the coffee shop. The longer he waited (he cursed himself for needing to be early) the further he spiralled into panic and misery until finally a soft “Hey!” made him look up from his phone.

Sigyn stood there smiling wearing a knee-length mustard yellow jumper dress, thick black tights and black thigh high boots. Her knitted green and yellow scarf was ridiculously long with her usual brown backpack hung over one shoulder. Her hair had been freed from any restraints and now it was determined to be noticed the golden-red curls and coils framing her face seemed almost dazzling.

“Hello,” he greeted standing up, this was a little strange. Did they need to be in a coffee shop to feel normal? She laughed softly to herself, “What’s so funny?” for a dreadful second he imagined her laughing at him or something he chose to wear.

“Sorry, I was just thinking it’s a little weird seeing you in people cloths,” she smiled at him.

“I wear people cloths when I’m working,” He said.

“Your uniform is not people cloths, it’s the opposite, devoid of personality, this , feels like you,” she said grinning at him. She always seemed to be smiling or grinning. “How does this even work?” she asked him running her finger along the diagonal line of the zip on his leather jacket.

“Well you take the zip,” he began showing her the zip beneath his own black and green scarf and grinning when she rolled her eyes amused.

“Smart arse,” She said slapping him playfully on the arm. He did his best not to flinch, she noticed and thankfully said nothing, years of putting up with Thor and his friends had left their mark on him. She still smiled, pretending for his sake, or comfort that she had not noticed, something he appreciated. “So what now?”

“Has it that long for you?” He teased her she blushed an overly pleasant shade of pink as she walked alongside him.

“If I say yes would you be put off?” she asked him, hoping that he would not, some people were odd about people not dating, like it was a part of the curriculum for students.

“Of course not, I am more surprised you actually showed up,” he confessed though with a teasing tone as to not appear genuine. He did not wish to come across as needy or desperate.

“I wanted to see what you looked like in leather and skin tight jeans,” she waggled her eyebrows at him, like two charming caterpillars they danced, she was weirdly good at manipulating her eyebrows he thought transfixed for enough time to make Sigyn laugh.

“And?” he asked, he should have toned it down! It was ridiculous to think someone as warm, soft and pleasant as Sigyn would like this. Stark’s offer of a shirt suddenly seemed appealing.

“I approve,” She grinned at him, his whole body sagged in relief, she must have felt it because somehow that sunny smile seemed to grow a lot brighter. “So… what do people do on dates these days?”

He didn’t know, again dating had not been something he’d been overly interested in up until meeting Sigyn. Sigyn grinned at him, she knew he didn’t know either!

“People usually go for coffee,” He said lamely.

“ You want to go for coffee?” She asked him sounding amused, “That’s like asking me to spend my free time in a garage.”

“You work I a garage?” Loki asked suddenly he remembered something Tony had said about having Sigyn look at his car, he assumed he meant in the ‘I want to ask someone out’ way and not the actual practical way.

“Yep,” she said leading him through the streets with an idea, “My dad was the type that made his kids learn all the skills they would need in later life. He didn’t want me being ripped off if I ever managed to buy a car.”

Funny all his father gave him was self-esteem issues and anxiety, this was not something you said on a date, Loki knew that at least instead he said “My father just tossed money at people to solve whatever little problems he had.”

“Ah, you see that’s no good, I don’t care how rich you are everyone should know basic home maintenance,” Sigyn said, which sounded like good sound practical advice, the sort of ‘advice’ that Odin would shout at his children when telling them to pull themselves up by the bootstraps.

Instead, he answered, “Well my mother did teach me how to maintain a healthy garden, I know how to keep a vegetable patch and herb garden,” he said thinking it silly.

Sigyn turned to him awed like he had just said the greatest thing anyone could think of, “Really!? I’m useless with plants, well aside from Frank and Hudson.”

“Frank and Hudson?”

“Frank’s this spider-plant that just refuses to die, seriously I forgot to water him, and he just keeps on living and Hudson’s this Jade plant, I got him when he was a wee sprout as a kid, the bastard won’t die,”

“You make it sound like they are making your life an inconvenience!” he laughed.

“They grow Loki, they grow!”

“That’s what a plant is supposed to do,”

“Yes, but do you know how big twenty-year-old jade plants can be and how many babies a spider plant produces, lots!” She flapped her hand about.

He couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of Sigyn on her one woman crusade to defeat two rather average houseplants that refused to die. She puffed out her cheeks pretending to be annoyed as he laughed, in truth she was delighted to see him so relaxed. This was nice.

Sigyn had taken him to the natural history museum, some place he had yet to visit despite living in the city for two years already. It was fascinating and much better than visiting a coffee shop. Even if suddenly he was craving a cup of coffee, his work had cursed or conditioned him!

The date went well, he did think it odd that they had not kissed on the first date, was that normal? He wasn’t sure but there was plenty of hand holding and laughter. Natasha said that was a good sign when he mentioned the date to her later that evening.

“The issue you got right now,” Natasha said stretching with Loki, they both attended evening dance classes together, pole dancing to be exact. It was a great way to keep in shape, “Is whether she’s aware of your sexuality?”

He had neglected to mention that, usually wasn’t something he needed to mention, “It might have slipped my memory,” Loki admitted mirroring Natasha as they went into the next stretch.

“Hmm, well you should get on that,” he would have done had dance classes had not left him close to breaking. Natasha and Loki staggered home looking as though they had been through hell and back and nobody had allowed them to collect the t-shirts on the way out.

So it wasn’t until he saw Sigyn the next day with Steve in the coffee shop that he suddenly remembered. Mostly it was the girl very obviously checking out Sigyn that helped him remember what Natasha suggested.

He knew from watching others that it could be a make or break thing, apparently some people weren’t comfortable with their partners being bisexual go figure! He didn’t want to mess things up with Sigyn, things seemed to be going good, nice even.

“Isn’t this supposed to be Jane’s shift?” Steve asked him, not as a co-worker but a customer today. The man had bland coffee tastes, Sigyn got her usual pumpkin spice latte, she was determined to fill up before they were replaced with the peppermint drinks come winter.

“Yeah but I have extra classes this afternoon, she had extra classes this morning, so we switched places,” Loki rattled off.

“Oh okay,” Steve said grabbing his boring coffee and adding no sugar or milk, he was just that type that liked his drinks simple. Sigyn was halfway finished with her latte before Steve could even dare attempt drinking his scalding drink.

“Sigyn can I have a word?” he asked, there were no other customers waiting for a drink at the moment so now was a good time.

“Sure,” Sigyn nodded, Steve pretended to make himself scarce by reading a book at Sigyn’s usual spot by the window, clearly he was waiting for Sigyn. Right! They were classmates. He’d almost forgotten. “What’s up?” she asked looking a little worried.

“Ah uh, I should have mentioned before,” Loki said thinking it was a little weird to mention this here and now, he should have waited, damn it, but now he couldn’t just not say it could he? “I,” he hesitated, Sigyn nervously began downing her coffee like a mad woman, “I’m bi?”

“Oh… that’s all?” She breathed a heavy sigh of relief, a nervous giggle escaped her, “I uh, mean no offence or anything Loki but it was kinda obvious?”

“You can’t tell if someone is bisexual by the way they dress and act,” Loki pointed out, well Sigyn was amazing maybe she could?

“True,” She nodded radiating cheer and warmth as she pulled out her phone and showed him the screen, “But meddling billionaire’s have no filter when you ply them with whisky.”

It was a photo of Loki and Tony kissing… well no Loki’s hand was quite clearly down Tony’s pants. It had been a rather strange night of drinking and more drinking, apparently Loki decided that night he was Bi and being a scientist needing to test this theory out. Loki had of course been happy to have an attractive guy make out with him, apparently Tony had a thing for potential rock stars? It didn’t matter, Tony got his answer and Loki got a half remembered fuck, it was a good half remembered fuck.

“I am going to murder him,” Loki threatened, it was a lie of course and Sigyn laughed, clearly not offended at all and used to Tony’s antics.

“If it helps,” She said quite calmly, “It doesn’t bother me that you’re bi Loki, we have that in common.”

“Oh, ah, I see,” Loki smiled, “Well good?”

“Good,” Sigyn grinned, “Does this mean we’re still going to meet up this weekend?” she asked.

“Of course, I want to see how you react to plants,” he smirked.

“Why plants?” Sigyn asked caught off guard, but Loki refused to reveal his plot to show her around the plant exhibition. It wasn’t just about plants, there was also some arts and crafts sections and something about home-made wine. “I knew it, you’re on their side, plotting against me.”

“Ah yes, me and my legion of hydrangeas,” Loki smirked.

“That’ll be a good band name,” They both jumped, there was Natasha… in daylight hours looking as though she hadn’t slept a week. By her side Tony, who had not slept in a week, “Legion of hydrangeas.”

“Nah you want something more badass, Legion of Cacti,” Tony said waking up now he was within arms reach of coffee. Sigyn pulled her coffee cup away from him.

“Wouldn’t you be more badass with Legion of Wolfs bane?” Sigyn countered.

“Wolfs bane legion?” Steve countered.

“Just take your coffee and go, all of you," he said filling up the various cups. Natasha liked Mocha, Steve was happy with his still scalding coffee, Sigyn got her refill of Pumpkin Spice while Tony had what Steve called heart attack juice.

“You’re supposed to smile when-” Steve grabbed Tony by the shoulder and gently steered him out of the building.

“Thanks,” Natasha nodded, that was all he was going to get out of the exhausted… possible dance student. There was some speculation she might be a classics student.

Before Loki could say goodbye to Sigyn she brought him into a kiss, it was a soft quick thing, nothing but a fond goodbye but it managed to turn his legs to jelly and leave him with a dopey smile as she pulled away grinning. He was to busy mooning over Sigyn as she left, especially the way her hips swayed that he forgot to mention the traces of black lipstick.

The girl that had been checking Sigyn out glared at him, ‘ Yeah she’s mine! ’ she stuck out his tongue, she surprised him by returning the gesture.

Their second date went well until Sigyn lost a fight with a prickly pair cactus, Tony laughed and laughed, the fact that they had to buy said cactus because it now had her blood on it made Tony laugh even harder. He bought the cactus and crown and sash, crowning it the vanquisher of Sigyn.

“I told you,” Sigyn groused poking her bandaged forearm, “Wait till Fred and Hudson hear about this, it’ll make them bold!”

Loki kissed her, she smiled at him in a very silly way that made his insides squirm and wiggle in delight. Her feathery touches, her patience all made him light up, he was certain others were mocking him for becoming so sappy, but he didn’t care.

She responded to him with affection and kindness, something he had not really had in a relationship before. At least not on this sort of level. Sigyn was never ashamed about hugging him, or just gently brushing her fingers through his hair. Why did that one feel so good? He liked her braiding his hair or just running her nails along his scalp.

“Next you’ll be writing love songs and giving each other promise rings,” Tony fluttered his eyes at Loki the next morning. Ah so the mad bastard had finally got some sleep.

That… might be a little true, he had begun to write one (just one!) Song for Sigyn, he couldn’t help it, when inspiration struck he had got it down on paper. But he would not admit that Tony, not when he was operating at full brain capacity while Loki was struggling to remember what day of the week it was.

Instead, he sent Sigyn a text ‘ Stark is annoying me, send help! ’

Her response was instant ‘ Mention Justin Hammer ’ why? Who was that? She sent him a list of conversation starters that included that name.

“Did you notice the university newspaper this morning Natasha?” Loki said.

“We have a newspaper?” Tony asked.

“Apparently someone called Justin Hammer-” Tony hissed like a feral cat and zoomed off shouting something about cheap copy cats.

“Tell Sigyn that was mean,” Natasha said holding up her mug to be filled with heart attack juice.

Loki later learnt that Tony had been the originator but Sigyn had perfected this particular blend of coffee so strong it could fuel rockets. Loki stuck with natural coffee, coffee that did not make people stay awake for days on end.

Loki on pure instinct refilled her mug, then looked horrified when he realized what he had done! The corporations had conditioned him! Natasha smirked, “Serves you right,” she said sliding off the plastic barstool Bucky had fished out from a dumpster.

*****

Usually it wasn’t a good idea to move into somewhere with a girlfriend of a couple of months, but the rent was cheap and the house was decent enough. Much better than the university dorms anyway. They had plenty of space in spite of the fact eight people lived here, there was even a small garden.

It wasn’t a good idea to share a bedroom either, but nobody could blame Loki and if their relationship ended suddenly for some weird reason Sigyn could share or swap with someone else. But Loki didn’t like thinking about that.

He liked his relationship with Sigyn, she made him feel loved, special, like he could do anything he wanted and that was okay. She supported him, coming to the café’s and clubs he played at never anything short of happy grins and warm affection.

Whenever he felt those pangs of ‘I’ve fucked up and should have listened to Odin’ moments she was there holding his hand reminding him it was okay to follow his dreams. He could not understand why someone as loving and kind as Sigyn would want him, but he could not imagine his life without her now.

In turn, he supported her art shows, Sigyn it turned out was a talented painter, both with traditional and digital mediums. She was already building a regular client base and looking to publish some books, which featured her work, there was also talks of a graphic novel that she and Steve were working on together. Something about an Atalantian prince.

She liked to draw him, he didn’t mind, he was in fact flattered she found him that interesting. He was always happy to spend time with her regardless of what they were doing, especially when the Uni classes became more serious. It was nice to just share a comfortable space with someone, someone who warmed him and reminded him to carry on. That everything was okay.

Finally, Loki got to meet Fred and Hudson, Hudson was huge, Sigyn had grossly undersold just how big he was. He became the Christmas tree that year he was so big. But Fred, the spider plant who hung from the ceiling was almost as long as Loki was tall, clearly Sigyn had given up dealing with the babies and just let him grow thinking it would kill off the plant.

“Maybe you have a secret superpower-” Loki began to suggest as he placed them in the most ideal locations.

“-Plants are spiteful,” Sigyn hissed threatening the plant who did not respond.

“Maybe that’s what feeding, all that hate?” Loki suggested.

“Oooh that’s sneaky, so typical of-” Sigyn paused looking at Loki who was struggling not to laugh, he blinked not understanding why she had suddenly become so serious, “You have pretty eyes.”

He blushed always caught off guard by her compliments he couldn’t help it, she smiled taking hold of his hand and kissing him. His entire being fluttered as she slowly deepened the kiss forgetting for a moment that they were in the process of decorating the house when Bucky walked in complaining about the new coffee machine.

“Loki!” Bucky yelled, “You're the coffee expert-” Loki groaned pulling away from Sigyn who giggled, her whole body rocked against him.

“-I should have worked in the bakery,” He pinched his nose, though he could not regret his choice of work now, it had led him to meeting Sigyn.

“You know… I need help with our bed,” Sigyn offered him an escape, and he took it with a grin, our bed did sound rather lovely.

#Loki Bingo 2020 #Loki/Sigyn #Logyn #Coffee Shop AU #loki x sigyn #Loki fic #Loki Fanfic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #jane foster #Tony Stark #Student!Loki #Student!Sigyn #Modern AU

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raendown · 5 years ago

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 5816 Chapter: 38/42 Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

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Chapter 38

Watching Madara address the council was an exercise in patience. Not because he didn’t believe in what his husband was saying or even because he found listening to be difficult but rather because the confidence practically dripping from him was very attractive and Tobirama wanted nothing more than for this blasted meeting to end. He had a husband to violate in whichever empty room presented itself for his convenience first.

The Police Force Initiative truly was the right place for him here, a job where his passion for the people under his care shone through in such a way that no one could deny he believed in this village. Never had Tobirama loved his husband more than as he sat and watched him advocate for a larger budget just so he could serve better, protect better, provide for the men and women who would be under his command so he could give them the tools they needed to serve the citizens under their protection. It was like watching him slot in to place and flourish right before their eyes. Tobirama was captivated.

And happy. It may have taken a year or so but everything was finally coming around to how it should be - for all of them. Even Izuna looked more relaxed than ever where he sat farther down the table. Tobirama himself had been the one to suggest that he attend council meetings as the head of ANBU and therefore the crux of all information flowing in to the village. He’d let his brother-in-law think it was Tajima’s idea, though, happy to rely on the man’s ego and propensity for claiming every good idea was his own. At least in this instance it served to protect someone else’s ego for once.

“A pretty speech,” one of the minor clan Heads spoke out as Madara wound down. “But do you have the documentation to justify this proposed budget?”

“I do. If you would but open the dossier I handed out you would see that.” Unwilling to bend, Madara stared the other man down until he had no choice but to give in and open the packet that had indeed been given as soon as the subject was broached. Right there on the first page was a table of contents. And prominently listed in that table would be evidence to back up why Madara needed the money and where he would be getting it from.

Tobirama didn’t bother to smother the look of pride he could feel on his own face, undamped by the pressure headache that had been slowly mounting in his temples over the past hour. He hadn’t needed to offer many changes after Madara asked him to look the packet over. The work was good and it was all to his husband’s credit.

“Now, if the council would be good enough to indulge me a little farther, I’ve already spoken with the head of village security and Touka-san has agreed to a joint training program which I’d like to detail for you now.”

“What’s the point in training you both together?” A light scoff came from the Hyuga heir. “Wouldn’t that be more expensive?”

“Cheaper, actually, since we wouldn’t need to provide two dedicated training facilities.” Madara lifted his eyebrow but it was not a defensive expression, merely a judgmental once.

The young Hyuga folded his arms. “We already have many training grounds.”

“If my officers and the security teams work together we will have a better understanding of each other’s patrol routes, better response times, tighter protocol for who has jurisdiction over what, and also go fuck yourself.” Several people in the room covered their mouths, whether to gasp or snicker, but Madara only blew a bit of fringe away from his face. Clearly he was nearing the end of his already short fuse.

Butsuma stood up with the clear intention of bringing him to order but he was interrupted before a single word had time to pass his lips as the door burst open to admit three men, two of them panting and wild-eyed.

“An emergency!” the more put together man cried. “Danger!”

“What is the meaning of this?” Butsuma demanded.

“It’s coming! It’s coming our way! Straight for us!” One of the clearly exhausted men gave a shudder. “We’re all doomed…” And with that his eyes rolled back in his head, crumpling to the floor in a dead faint.

His companion did not waste time checking on him.

“We’re from the team that was sent to investigate the massive chakra presence. I-I know you won’t believe me. But I swear! It’s a tailed beast! A massive fox with nine tails and teeth as long as I am tall and it’s coming for us! It’s coming this way!”

“Someone tell me what the hell this idiot is blathering on about,” Tajima grumbled.

On his feet still, Madara's quiet voice was just loud enough to reach the whole room. “I thought the tailed beasts were just legends. They can’t be real.”

“They’re real,” the soldier moaned. “This one is. It’s massive! And it- oh god. Tetsuo…it ate Tetsuo…”

At last the stress of what he had seen appeared to catch up with him as well. He didn’t faint like his companion but he did waver, catching himself against the wall and sliding down until he could bury his face against his knees like a terrified child. Though Tobirama hated to leave anyone in such a state he understood that this was obviously a crisis on their hands. Psychological breaks could be dealt with later. Right now they needed to think about saving lives.

Unfortunately organizing themselves did not seem to be the first thing on either of their supposed leaders’ minds as it should have been. Butsuma and Tajima were both out of their seats but their eyes were locked in the sort of staring contest that generally prompted the rest of the council to simply sit back and wait out the proverbial dick measuring contest.

“It will take time to gather our forces,” Tajima murmured as if to himself.

“Such a beast cannot be allowed to simply enter the village unheeded,” Butsuma answered, finally something they agreed upon. “Time must be bought.” It was just too bad that what they agreed on was something utterly stupid.

“Consider it done. I myself will go; I will hold the beast at bay until our people can answer the call to arms.”

“You will not go alone.”

They stared each other down until Tobirama felt his temper snap. “This is not the time to worry about pride!”

“My son is correct. Now is the time for action. If you still have fight in you, Uchiha, then let me show you how hot my own fire burns. We take the beast on together.” Butsuma tilted his head in challenge, one his counterpart was only too ready to accept.

“Perhaps not the words I would have chosen,” Tajima said. “I go to protect my village. If you should happen to come along that is your choice.”

They moved towards the window at the same time with all the intention of men who would not be swayed from their paths and even Tobirama himself was startled to hear his own voice call out for Butsuma to wait. More surprised still when the man actually paused to look back at him. He wasn’t even truly sure why he’d done it. Knowing the danger descending upon them all, for the first time since he was a child Tobirama looked at the man across the room and saw his father. Not a good one, no, but the man who sired him all the same.

“Be safe,” was all he said.

He should have expected no less than the puzzled frown that was his only answer before Butsuma turned to leap after Tajima, unwilling to take even a moment for his own son in the face of allowing his rival to upstage him in any way. So much wasted breath. In their wake the room was silent but there was no time for that, someone needed to get these people moving.

“Alright,” Tobirama snapped, taking up the responsibility of leadership only because no one else had yet. “While they slow the beast we need to gather our forces. Izuna, you have your own people to organize and you know their skills best. Move fast, hit hard, and the rest of us will do what we can to keep the attention off of you. Shimura-sama, wake my cousin. Touka’s patrol teams can make a perimeter around the village as a last defense.” Both of them nodded and darted off.

“Won’t we need them on the field?” Hashirama asked. “We should throw everything we have at it!” Tobirama shook his head.

“Even if the fight doesn’t reach the village the debris or backlash of it might. This is supposed to be some legendary massive beast and the civilians cannot be left unprotected.”

“Right! You’re so smart, little brother!” His smile was sharper than usual, the adrenaline of an upcoming battle hardening his normally soft edges. A look he hadn’t worn since peace was made.

Tobirama let that pass; there were other things to concentrate on. “The InoShikaCho clans have extensive experience working together. All available bodies from those clans not enrolled in the ANBU or the patrol teams should be allowed to work as a unit. Do not concentrate on bringing the beast down. Try to slow him, stop his movement, control the field. Madara, you and Hashirama are our two strongest fighters and the Uchiha can move faster than most. I don’t mean to put our people in the line of danger–”

“We’re as ready to fight for our homes as anyone else.” His husband tossed a bit of fringe away from his face. “Attack, not defense?”

“The Uchiha have always been particularly good at burning whatever lies in their path,” Tobirama agreed with the shadow of a bloody smile. He was pleased to receive one in return.

“And the rest of us?” The Hatake clan heir looked ready to sink her teeth in to something already.

Tobirama opened his senses and winced at the sensation of the mass of brilliance bearing down on him. It was a miracle his latent sensing hadn’t felt it as more than a mounting headache, though he supposed that by now he’d grown used to living in the center of so many different signatures all piled on top of each other that a gradual increase simply hadn’t been all that noticeable.

“Support,” he said, a snap decision, wondering at how easily this room of leaders had decided to allow him to take control. “Fill in the spaces when you can. Remove any of the fallen if needed, escort the wounded to medical attention, and allocate a small team to prepare extra weaponry for standby. Hyuga-sama, instruct your people that defending their comrades is more important than attacking the beast. We will not win this battle if there are none left to fight it.”

In the distance something rumbled and Tobirama shuddered at the massive wave of chakra that rolled over them. The beast was angry.

“We are running out of time. Prepare for battle.”

The room scattered as each of them rushed towards their weapons and armor. Fighting in their casual daily outfits could only accomplish so much no matter that each of them surely kept some kind of blade on them at all times. Butsuma and Tajima had promised to buy them time; they would be fools not to use it.

Without a word Tobirama snagged his husband’s arm and reached for one of the markers he had set up around their home. Almost before they had finished shifting through space he was moving, reaching for the stand where his armor sat waiting after its latest repairs. He got one hand on it and then scowled as he was forcibly turned around, irritated to be stopped, ready to tell the other man off for interrupting him. Annoyance melted away as he was pulled down in to a fierce kiss.

“You will be careful,” Madara snarled in his face. “I will not sit by your bedside and pray for your life again. Don’t you dare do that to me.”

“I expect you to do the same,” he said quietly.

“Obviously. If that dumb monster so much as thinks of hurting even a hair on your head I will rip its bloody heart out. Twice you’ve been hospitalized in one year! I refuse to see it happen again!” Still grumbling under his breath, he released his iron grip and stomped over to pull his own armor off its stand.

Tobirama watched him with a full heart. “At least you did not need to sit with me through the second time.”

“Yes, because leaving you in Izuna’s care will always turns out well!”

After that they garbed themselves for war in silence. Strapping himself in to his armor felt to Tobirama almost the same as strapping another persona on to his skin. Here in their home it was sometimes hard to believe the soft and openly loving husband he had become but those feelings had no place in battle. Though it caused him something akin to physical pain he boxed those parts of himself away and firmly closed the lid on them, tucked away to leave his concentration free for observation and strategy, the sort of clear thinking that would keep him alive to come home where he could open that box again.

If there was one silver lining to this situation it would be the chance to see Madara in all his glory once again, a veritable god of war in blood red armor and that distinctive gunbai strapped to his back.

“Let’s go,” he murmured. They had no more time to waste on soft words or meaningless compliments. As they dashed out in to the frigid temperatures outside and took to the rooftops Tobirama promised himself that later he would spend hours describing for his husband just how incredible he looked with that fierce expression – then he very carefully shoved that in to the box as well and locked it shut.

Just past the edge of where the village wall was still being upgraded they crossed paths with Izuna, directing his ANBU with last minute instructions.

“You know what we really need?” he called as they passed him by, breath misting in the air. “A fucking alarm. A village-wide alarm system so we don’t have to go running around like chickens gathering everyone up if this shit happens again.”

“That…is a good idea,” Tobirama admitted.

Izuna stared at him.

“Why don’t you give that some more thought and if we both survive we can hash out some ideas later.” When he turned he managed to catch just the edge of a thoughtful look on the man’s face as they continued on their way and leaped out of sight.

Figuring out what direction to go wasn’t hard. Even without the sounds of destruction and the clouds of dust and smoke rising slowly from the forest there was the oppressive weight of that chakra signature, close enough now that even the most insensitive shinobi would be able to feel it there, hovering at the edge of their mind like a wild animal dragging sharp teeth along their consciousness. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Tobirama and Madara kept speed with each other as they darted through the trees, matching step for step and weaving through the branches in perfect unison. Battle had called them and they had answered. All of Tobirama’s instincts cried out for him to strategize and make plans but he recognized that it was useless until he was able to see the situation for himself. He’d never fought a tailed beast before let alone the Kyuubi itself, the strongest of the nine. Trying to plan for something like that was like trying to plan for the path of a tornado; there was simply no predicting what would happen until it did.

Much easier was determining that they were getting close. As soon as they began to encounter long swaths of forest crushed or burnt they increased their speed. Tobirama pushed through the discomfort of that massive signature to find the cool green feeling of his brother and directed them that way. Shinobi of their power served best at the front no matter the danger they faced.

Seeing the beast for the first time nearly stopped them both in their tracks, however. It didn’t matter how brave a man was, seeing a creature several stories taller than the administration tower would have been a sight all on its own. The oppressive weight of the thing’s hatred was something else entirely.

“We have to fight that,” Madara breathed, his voice only just audible over the commotion around them.

“No,” Tobirama said. “We have to stop it. Let’s go.”

Several bodies lay still in scattered places throughout the carnage, others darting in to carry them away, but Tobirama’s eyes found several directly beneath the feet of the Kyuubi where they could not be safely retrieved. He dismissed them. Later he would mourn the loss of life. Right now he would do what he could to protect the living.

Hashirama fell back to meet them as they approached and Tobirama felt his heart clench at the sight of tears streaming down the man’s face.

“Are you injured?” he demanded. Hashirama shook his head.

“Later,” he choked out. “We have to put this thing down before it takes more.”

“Right. Then let’s do that.”

One quick survey told him that the people of the village were indeed following the strategy he had quickly laid out. To one side Nara cast their shadows to snare legs and tails, Yamanaka threw their own consciousness’ out in an attempt to take over the beast’s, and the Akimichi stood over them both with their bodies expanded to massive sizes, deflecting the lashing tails and protecting their friends.

Hatake and Inuzuka harried the flanks while several Aburame attempted to guide their insects in to any orifice they could use for an inside take down. Uchiha sent flames from the front in brilliant displays while Senju used the earth and the river to push and pull, attacking, attempting to knock the thing off balance. The Hyuga clan were spread through the rest of them, each paired up with another shinobi and moving in tandem as though this battle were a well-practiced dance. Directing attacks to the targets with the most deadly potential, rotating or using their Byakugan to deflect incoming debris, they made the perfect support for anyone lucky enough to work with them.

Just watching their village come together in such a way was enough to make a man burst with pride and yet for all their efforts they made very little progress. Bodies fell and others dashed in to remove them. Screams and thunder rent the air in a near constant litany of destruction.

“I’ll take its head,” Hashirama declared, legs coiling in readiness.

“The back,” Madara claimed. “Watch me tame that fucker.”

“Hold,” Tobirama snapped.

Amazingly enough, they did as he asked, holding until suddenly waves of ANBU burst from the trees in a concentrated attack. Then Tobirama ducked his head to bare his teeth.

“Now, while it’s distracted!”

Hashirama burst forward with his hands already forming signs. Spires of mokuton burst from the ground at his command to reach for the beast’s face and muzzle its jaw. Deep in its throat the Kyuubi snarled – then he screamed with rage and pain as Madara hit him from behind with the largest Grand Fireball the field had seen yet that day.

Letting the two of them work ahead as a distraction, Tobirama scattered kunai marked with his special seal. As soon as he had the layout of the terrain solid in his mind he reached for one and appeared directly under the belly of the rampaging animal. With so much water already scattered about it was the work of a moment to gather a large puddle and swing his arms upwards to slice at the soft flesh above his head, an attack that he hoped was doubly painful with the temperature of the water only barely above freezing. He was gone before the answering scream was finished and gathering more water to go for the hamstrings.

Before he could get close enough a great roar shook the earth and destabilized his footing as the Kyuubi broke through its wooden muzzle, snapping at the branches that reached to capture it again. Tobirama flashed to his brother’s side and pulled him out of the way just in time for one of the many tails to come crashing down where he’d just been standing.

“Thanks for the save,” Hashirama cried. “Let’s try this on for size!”

Only once had Tobirama even seen him use that massive scroll he carried in to battle but it was a testament to how seriously his brother was taking this fight when he threw it down and unrolled it, slamming his palm in to the center. When his summon appeared it carried them both up on its shoulders to tower over the forest and draw their opponent’s attention all to themselves. The Kyuubi didn’t look terribly impressed to see the Several Thousand Hands but Madara clearly was – and just as clearly did not intend to be left behind.

“You think that’s something? I am the one you should be worried about, fox!” His voice came from the ground a moment before he was raised up above it in the headpiece of a fully formed Susano’o.

“Together, my friend?” Hashirama called to him.

“Eat my chakra dust!” Madara hollered back.

Despite his words they moved in sync as only the best of battle partners could. Tobirama spared a moment to roll his eyes at their antics even as he cast one of his kunai and followed it through the air, summoning the river to his purpose.

With their strength combined and aid from all the other clans the amount of injuries dropped significantly, though the battle was still a hard one. The tide was turned with the arrival of Mito, her usual orderly outfit replaced with the minimalistic battle gear of a true Uzushio warrior. With delicate grace she evaded the reached claws attempting to crush her spine and wove between the hundreds of wooden fists slicing through the air to land at her husband’s side. Tobirama appeared at his other a moment later.

“I can seal him,” she announced confidently. “But nothing inanimate will be able to hold that much energy. If I seal him it will be in to a living creature. A person.”

“Any volunteers?” Tobirama asked dryly.

“That sounds incredibly dangerous.” Deftly weaving his signs still, Hashirama kept the beast distracted with his summons while they spoke. “Would his chakra not tear the person to shreds?”

Mito shook her head. “No. This is why I did not come until now; I have been modifying the seal we use to make storage scrolls and I believe that it should contain him so long as there is another chakra to give the array power. Their life will be the safeguard that holds him.”

“I will do it,” Hashirama declared. He looked determined until she laid her hand on his arm.

“No, it cannot be you. The head of one clan with so much power would unbalance the rest. I believe it should be me. It would be dangerous for whoever takes this responsibility to leave the village and I hardly do so already.”

“Make a decision,” Tobirama snapped. “We don’t have time to sit around and chat it over all day. Yes or no, Anija!”

“May the kami forgive me. Yes. Do it – and fast.”

She gave one sharp nod and then Mito turned towards the Kyuubi with fire in her eyes the likes of which few had seen and lived to speak of. With barely a thought Tobirama was away at his own husband’s side, suspended within the Susano’o.

“On my mark be loud. As much of a distraction as you can be. Draw its attention and hold it.”

“Understood.”

Tobirama trained his eyes across the shifting mass of fur between him and his brother, watching until Mito’s tiny form shot forward.

“Now!”

Purple flame exploded outwards in a Grand Fireball nearly the size of the Kyuubi’s head, singing fur and flesh and drawing a scream that must have shaken the mountains from one side of the continent to the other. Several of the men and women scattered below dropped to clap their hands over their ears even as Mito, brave and beautiful Mito, flung her body straight towards the source. For a single moment she existed as a streak of flame across the sky, red hair spilling behind her like a banner as her traditional buns unraveled with the force of such a violent movement.

Then the motion ended as she impacted the beast’s hide palm first, black ink spidering out from underneath her touch. Even the trees themselves quaked with the force of the roar this time, the sound of an animal who knew it was about to be caged. Seeing his chance, Hashirama moved quickly to pin the lashing tails with bands of wood, holding them down for the howls to carry on in stillness.

When the massive form began to ripple and waver Tobirama almost felt a touch of pity for the thing. To be caged for the rest of his life was something he couldn’t imagine. But the feeling was easy to brush away as he looked out at the carnage surrounding them, steeling his heart to the vision of the Nine-Tailed Beast shrinking in size as it was pulled in to Mito’s body. For such a momentous act Tobirama felt almost let down by the anticlimactic silence when it was over.

Mito stood where the Kyuubi had, tall and proud. Then even from a distance Tobirama could see her tremble before she crumpled to the earth like a doll. Hashirama was by her side almost as fast as though he too was able to utilize the hiraishin.

Concern warred with the instinct to give the two of them some space and Tobirama married the two urges by asking Madara to dismiss his Susano’o, taking the time to walk across the clearing by the power of his own legs rather than flashing across with the marker Hashirama carried. When they arrived his hands were already limned in green chakra and his brows pulled together with deep concentration. Thankfully for their sanity he did not look too worried.

“She doesn’t appear to be injured,” he announced as they and several others drew close. “I think the shock of absorbing so much extra chakra was just a little too hard and her mind shut down to protect her until she finds a balance.”

“Are you alright?” Tobirama asked. His brother looked up at him with a wan expression.

“I’m…uninjured.”

With a nod Tobirama turned to Madara, gently cupping that precious face with one hand.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine too,” the man growled. He did not, however, pull away from the touch. They held each other’s eyes for a moment of understanding before Tobirama turned back to the pair on the ground.

“Uninjured is fine but that wasn’t my question. You looked distraught when we arrived.”

“Of course I’m distraught! Look around you!”

The outburst was so unlike the Hashirama that others knew and shock was plain to see on many of the faces around them. For Tobirama, however, it brought him nothing but a clench in his chest. It may have been years since he heard that tone but he would have remembered the heartbreak it carried until the end of his days. The last he’d heard it they had stood over a fresh grave after burying their mother between the bodies of their younger siblings.

“You know better than most than many injuries can look much worse than they truly are,” he murmured. Squatting down, he laid a hand on the other’s shoulder. “I know it seems as though we lost many lives today but until we get a tally from the medics we can’t know that for sure. Many more could have survived.”

Hashirama lifted his face to show that tears once more streamed over his cheeks. “But they didn’t. They’re gone. He’s gone.”

“Who is?”

“Father,” Hashirama whispered.

A great empty nothingness seemed to echo in Tobirama’s chest as he followed his brother’s line of sight down the path to where the Kyuubi must have met with the first line of resistance. Miles away at this point, he wasn’t able to see where the body of his father lay. He didn’t care to. What state the flesh was in mattered little if the mind had gone cold.

He waited for the pain. For the sense of loss. The last time he had seen Butsuma’s face it struck him for the first time in years that they were family – not a happy one, perhaps, but blood all the same. Now the man was gone and with him any chance that they might someday recover the relationship that had never had a proper chance to grow. And Tobirama, to his small secret shame, felt nothing.

“I am sorry for your loss,” he said at last, an empty platitude to fill the silence as his brother continued to stare up at him expectantly. Hashirama didn’t look surprised but neither did he look at all comforted.

“What are we going to do?”

“Get these people back home, I imagine.” That particular wisdom came from Izuna as the man approached. “I’ve instructed my teams to search the area and retrieve any dead or wounded left behind. They took too bloody long waiting for the right moment to make an attack and I’m not happy with their performance. So now since they didn’t actually see much battle they get to enjoy the clean up afterwards.”

“Right. Touka can have any of her people who have a talent for earth jutsu restore the forest as best they can until Hashirama is able to see to the trees.” Tobirama nodded to his brother-in-law, unsurprised by the hesitation before Izuna nodded back.

Between them, Madara craned his neck to peer down the alley of destruction where Butsuma supposedly lay. It didn’t take a genius to guess where his thoughts were drifting. Neither of their first responders had been seen since they dashed off, their blood running hot with reckless competition. If Butsuma had gone to his final rest here in the forest then chances were Tajima had too. Tobirama waited but his husband said nothing, turning his head away with a telling tension at the corners of his eyes. No one present saw fit to mention it.

“Izu is right,” he muttered. “Let’s get these people back to the village. We’ll need to gather the council for a debrief. Shit, wait, Izuna can you also send one of your people to find the rest of that team who came to warn us? There wasn’t time to ask but–”

“We need to know why,” Tobirama finished for him.

“On it.” Just like that the man was off again.

Hashirama used the utmost care as he cradled his wife between both arms and lifted her, for once not looking around to see to others before taking off towards safety himself. Although the greater good often took priority over many things in his eyes there were few if any things in this world that could possibly be more important to him than the safety of his beloved wife. Tobirama watched them go and thought to himself that once he had envied their bond. How funny it was to think of it now and realize that he had the same.

Urging his own beloved to go ahead, Tobirama stayed to organize those wandering around the field looking lost, some of them bearing the frantic expression of those who had lost sight of their loved ones. He urged them to allow the allotted team to comb through the area before descending in to panic. Many injured had already been taken to the hospital and extra bodies milling about would only impede the progress of others reaching the same help.

At a certain point he had to realize that he was mostly killing time, putting off the inevitable as though hoping that the council would meet without him. Unfortunately he knew the one they would not start without was Hashirama and since he would have taken the time to ensure his wife was more than comfortable in the proper care it wasn’t likely the debrief would have even started yet. Not to mention the fact that Madara was likely to glare the lot of them in to submission if they tried to go ahead without Tobirama’s sizable brain there to point out the angles no one else ever seemed able to see.

Knowing it would be better to get this over with did nothing to make him feel any more enthusiastic but still Tobirama forced himself to turn back towards the village when there was only petty busywork left to occupy himself with. The meeting needed to happen. As a council they needed to make a decision on how to react to these events and how to proceed now that their two nominal ‘leaders’ had both fallen. Yet something in the back of his mind couldn’t help pretending that if he never went to the meeting then he would never have to admit that all of this was real.

Clearly he’d been spending too much time in Hashirama's presence for such childish notions to have any hold over him.

What drove him forward despite his distaste for it all was the same urge which had driven plenty of his most self-destructive urges in the past: his need to know. The need for answers that had a tendency to blot out the rest of the world. Tobirama set his feet towards the village center and he would have damned his own curiosity if he wasn’t so achingly aware that he would have eventually gone anyway.

Duty had been bred in to him at a young age, pressed in to his skin so deeply it could almost be considered a personality trait on its own at this point. He might drag his feet and put it off but in the end this was his home and he would do what he needed to for this village. That was his duty and Tobirama had long accepted that he was nothing if not a dutiful man.

To his husband. To his family. To his people.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #tajima #butsuma #izuna #mito #fanfiction

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eveningpoppy · 4 years ago

Text

Whumptober 2020: Day 6

The thing about interstellar travel is that it isn’t quick, exactly. Granted, yes, it was far faster than it had been in the early days of space exploration thanks to the advent of newer starship models, hyperdrives, warp drives, and any other number of things that Gray actually only had basic knowledge of himself. But it would still be a number of ‘days’ before this ship actually reached its destination. ‘Days’ of course was a relative term as, with no orbiting sun or moons to keep track of on a ship and with the length of days varying wildly on different planets, Gray defaulted to the length of days he was used to from the home planet he’d left so long ago.

And with there still being several days left in the duration of travel, Gray’s accommodations had been graciously upgraded from “metal trunk” to “locked in one of the cabins on the starship” after Reese the pilot had pointed out the impracticalities of keeping someone locked in a box for an extended duration of time. And so, he found himself sitting on the bed in this small room that was otherwise lacking in furnishings or decorations thanks to a lack of a previous occupant, head resting against the wall as he stared straight ahead at nothing in particular. The cuffs around his wrists had stayed, and he had been left to simply sit and wait, only hearing from either of his captors when one of them showed up to drop off food or insults – the latter usually came from Harpo.

Sitting. Waiting. Dreading what was to come when the ship finally arrived at its destination. Gray wondered if he’d be able to find an opening to escape at that point once they actually reached the gate. With how things were going now, it seemed that would be his only chance.

The door opened suddenly, and Gray sat up in preparation for whatever would come next. He hated to admit it to himself, but he felt some relief when he saw it was Reese in the doorway carrying a plate of food in one hand and not Harpo. Reese hadn’t bothered to say much of anything to Gray during his captivity here, and he preferred that.

Reese shut the door behind herself and walked to the bed to place the plate down next to Gray, but instead of promptly walking out afterward as she always did, she just took a few steps back and watched him.

Gray debated whether or not to respond at first. “What?”

“Tell me about the gate,” Reese said.

Some moments passed. Was she being serious? She couldn’t have been. “I’m sure Harpo told you.”

“Harpo told me he’s after something valuable, and he told me to shut up and pilot the ship while he pays me.” Even with the sunglasses she wore, the eyeroll that accompanied that statement could almost be felt. “So, he’s not the best teacher, no.”

It didn’t exactly seem like she was outright lying. In fact, misleading someone about the nature of a gate would be a reasonable way to gain their assistance. Gray thought about it. At the very least, he didn’t see how humoring her would make the situation worse than it already was.

“The gates connect to a different dimension from our own,” Gray said. “Supposedly, people can gain power from opening them.”

“Power.” Reese’s tone sounded skeptical.

Gray just shrugged. “Rumors spread and people sort of fill in the blanks as to what that means. I imagine there’s some truth to it for those rumors to keep going. Otherwise people wouldn’t be chasing me down as much.”

“Okay, so people want to open these gates for some sort of vague power. Cool. And Harpo needs you to open one because you’re an… archon?”

“The gates need the blood of an archon to be opened,” Gray answered. Not that he knew much about how the logistics of it worked, only that being an archon – being descended from the original people who built the gates, if the few ancient texts that spoke of them were to be believed – essentially made him a living key. “That power or whatever the fuck he’s looking for in the gate is hardly all he’s going to find, though.”

“What else is there?”

“Bad shit.”

Reese waited for Gray to elaborate, then asked when he said nothing more, “How do you know?”

Gray kept his answer short, not wanting to dwell on the memories, “I saw one open once before. It wasn’t good.”

“Mm-hm…” Reese nodded, watching Gray. “That clears things up, I guess. Well, eat your dinner. You’ll need your energy.”

“What, for being bled out when we get there?” Gray muttered.

“For getting out of here.”

There was a pause between the two before Gray said, “You’re fucking with me.”

“Nope. Just don’t tell Harpo I said anything if he stops by to see you before then. We’re making a stop at a station for supplies, I plan to get him off the ship then.”

Gray narrowed his eyes at Reese. “Why?”

“Um.” Reese chuckled. “Because he’s an asshole? Don’t worry about it, just sit tight for a bit.” And, with that half-assed explanation, she left the room and shut the door. Gray could hear it being locked once more and he was alone as he had been.

----

Reese sat in the pilot’s seat, lazily looking over the course charted on the ship’s console once the ship had landed at the small out of the way station Harpo had directed her to stop at. Something about the people here knowing him or something, the usual you would hear from a wanted criminal who could only risk going to the most remote places where he knew other crimnals. The station itself was little more than a rundown hunk of scrap metal floating through space, and Reese rolled her eyes at the thought of what crappy fuel and parts would even be available here. Where Harpo had gotten a ship this nice, Reese would never know, but the beautiful thing deserved better.

The moment she heard Harpo’s heavy footsteps exit the ship through the mechanical main doors, followed by the sound of them sliding shut automatically, Reese looked back to confirm he was gone. Once she was confident she was alone, save for Harpo’s “guest” locked away in the ship’s cabins, she turned back to the console and set to work. It took her only a few moments to chart a new course for the ship and then to run a check to ensure all methods in or out of the ship were locked and secured. Good. With a self-satisfied grin and an enthusiastic middle finger directed at the station, she activated the ship’s engines for takeoff. Fuck Harpo.

Reese sat back in the chair while she watched the ship clear the station, planning to let autopilot take over completely in a few minutes while she checked in on the man called Gray. Then she heard a gunshot.

Reese glanced down as she felt warmth spreading out over her shoulder and chest, she saw dark red stains coming through her clothing just before it became undeniable that she was seeing blood seeping from a bullet wound in her upper ribs. The pain hadn’t set in yet. She didn’t fully grasp what was happening. She looked up, trying to find an answer, and spotted Harpo standing to the side of the pilot’s seat. When had he…?

There was something on his belt that caught Reese’s attention. A small metal box with various buttons along the side, and Harpo tapped it with one hand, smiling. “Cloaking device. You’ve used one of these before, right? They call the cheaper ones camouflage but the higher end units are something else, I tell you.”

Reese tried to speak, but her throat failed to force any sound out, her mind failed to form any sentences. The pain was setting in.

“Now then,” Harpo said, bringing up the gun in his other hand to Reese’s face and gently tapping the side of her face with the barrel, “Where did you think you were going?”

Reese’s vision faded into nothing after that.

#whumptober2020 #no.5 #where do you think you're going #failed escape #oc #fic #gray #reese #blood #gunshot #gun #running behind on these but I'm getting there!

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softeeyoongi · 5 years ago

Text

Boys With Luv

CHAPTER 2

OT7 X Black!Reader

Here’s chapter 2 of this fic!! I also post of AO3 but it would be nice if you all could reblog :D!! Thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Y/N grunted as she struggled to open her apartment door with her hands occupied with a box full of cats. As soon as she shut the door behind her, she scurried into the living room and gently set down the box to not wake up the cats.

It was already quite warm in the apartment but since the cats seemed to have been in the cold for so long, she grabbed a heating pad and some blankets from her closet in the hallway to wrap the small felines in. As she came back into the living room, she noticed that some of the cats were starting to move around in their sleep.

'They'll probably be hungry when they wake up..' Y/N thought and rushed to the cupboard to see if there was anything she could feed them.

'There's canned mackerel, salmon, sardines, tuna... I guess I'll put a little bit of everything. They're probably starving.'

Y/N grabbed a can of each type of fish and carefully scooped half of the can into separate bowls.

"Oh, and cats like milk!" She spoke to herself before running to the fridge, grabbing a carton of milk and pouring it into another bowl.

Y/N then slowly walked to the living room with the bowls of assorted fish and milk, careful not to spill anything on the floor. Most of the cats seemed to still be sleeping, but they weren't shivering anymore, which was a plus.

'That heating pad sure does come in handy in situations like this.' She thought to herself while placing the food for the cats near their makeshift bed.

Now that the layer of snow had melted of their fur, you could see the coat of dirt and what looked like maybe blood that was underneath. They would definitely need a thorough shower when they woke up. But since they weren't, Y/N decided to turn on the television and watch the news until the cats woke up or fell asleep.

"-hybrids, turn them in immediately or report your siting to the police. Those who do, will be rewarded with up to 100.000 won. Those harboring them in any facility, whether public or private, will be arrested and punished severely."

Y/N scoffed and changed the channel.

"-The uprising and riots of the hybrids continue to intensify each day. The police have arrested and detained over 100 hybrids and humans that have participated in these-"

She turned off the television and let out a groan, throwing her head back.

Hybrids and humans have always coexisted for over 50 years. They were first created in a lab in the United States during the 1940's as a use for a weapon during World War 2. The original idea was to create a mix between animal and human — a combination that could cause chaos and destruction, could kill without mercy and were 10 times stronger and faster than humans. To do so, they would use enlisted soldiers or volunteers from allies. It took months and months and thousands upon thousands of failed experiments. There was either no effect, the volunteers would die or developed deadly diseases and viruses.

Then they succeeded.

The hybrids were stronger and faster than normal humans. They were able to change between their animal and human form with ease. They were even more easier to train for combat than the human soldiers.

But their success can with many flaws.

There were many biological problems that didn't make them suitable enough for battle.

The type of animal DNA that infused with the human DNA would affect their strength and the way they acted. For example, if someone was a dog hybrid, they would always look forward to praise and affection. If not received, it would affect their performance. Many hybrids were common animals like dogs, cats, mice, bunnies, and birds. They were the easiest to create in the lab which is why there were so many. Other hybrids that were animals like bears, lions, and wolves were a lot harder to create and because of the lack of funding and resources, the experimenters mostly stuck to small and common animals.

Heats also affected their performance. All hybrids had a sort of... mating season. Some more than others. A major problem was that all hybrids had to mate within a certain period of time, or else it could lead to depression or anxiety within hybrids. The hybrids also seemed to become attached to other humans easily after mating which could cause complications if they joined the army.

In the end, there were more cons than pros and so the project was shut down after a few years. That didn't stop people from becoming curious and creating their own hybrids. As technology advanced, it became easier and cheaper to create hybrids.

The hybrids that survived the experiment were quickly released to integrate into society. Most went back to their original countries and some stayed in the states, hoping for a better future and greater opportunities.

Because of their differences in physical appearance and behavior, they became the outcasts of societies of all countries. And because they were dangerous and a threat to humans, terrible atrocities would be done against them. As their population increased, they were tortured, kidnapped and sold to the black market as pets and slaves for sexual pleasures.

Of course, many people, humans and hybrids protested against such things that were occurring and not being reported on the news. Around the 2000s, hybrids started to obtain more rights through activism and peaceful protests, although it was mostly the Americas, that became more progressive in rights for hybrids.

In many countries however, South Korea being one of those countries, getting more freedom for hybrids was slow and they were still treated like garbage. They see them as a threat to human society and there have been... purges going on to decrease the population of hybrids in Korea, especially the more rare ones. They were either sending them out of the country or just outright murdering them. Any hybrid without an owner were at risk of being sent out of the country or even killed. There have been protests and even riots against the Korean government and their mistreatment towards hybrids but it just seems like there have been more humans and hybrids dying at the hands of the law...

It was all too much to think about. It was depressing.

Y/N's head jerked up from her deep thoughts when she heard a shrill hissing sound. She looked around frantically before noticing that one of cats, the black tabby with blue eyes, was in a defensive stance. It's tail was puffed out and it was crouched low to the ground, teeth being bared.

"Hey there little guy.." Y/N slid of her space on the couch and approached the cat slowly, reaching out her hand towards it "Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt-"

Apparently, Y/N moved too fast because the black cat swiped quickly at her hand with his claws out before getting back into its defensive stance. It was standing in front of the other cats, who seemed to be waking up with all the noise going on.

"Ack! Hey, that hurt..." Y/N whined before looking at the hand that the cat injured.

The scratch was bad and deep enough to leave a scar and it was starting to relieve small drop lets of blood. You always hated getting cuts that would scar.

"I won't hurt you. I- I promise." Y/N put her hands up and spoke to the raven colored cat that stared at her, as if it could understand her

"Look, I got you guys some fish and some milk that should be warm enough to drink. See — there's salmon, mackerel, tuna and sardines." Y/N pushed the bowls closer to the cats

The black cat stared at you for a few seconds and Y/N stared back. It then strut it's way over to the farthest corner of the room and decided to sleep there.

'What a strange cat...' Y/N thought before turning around and noticing the other cats were staring at you.

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trust-goes-both-ways · 5 years ago

Text

What’s in a name (everything) Steve x Natasha (Romanogers) Fik Idea

LOOOOL this needs some work and some edits and another 2 or 3 parts but here’s a first draft of an idea for a Romanogers fit in my Modern Howling Commandos AU. Check out my WinterPrincess story in this AU at https://archiveofourown.org/works/19985158

“It’s just a name, Steve. Why does it even matter?” Natasha said, annoyed as she walked around her room, collecting clothes and other things she needed. She stuffed her items one bundle at a time into her duffle on the bed. She was pointedly not looking at the Captain leaning against her bedroom door, even as they argued.

“It’s your name, Nat. Of course it matters to me.” he replied. Natasha suppressed a sigh and forced herself to focus on the selection of jewelry on her vanity. She selected a pair of earrings and turned around to pack them, only to find that Steve had moved across the room and was standing on the other side of the bed.

She shook her head. “Look, I know that to you what people call you is important and all, but to me it’s not a big deal. The Red Room program didn’t even give a name until I was sixteen. They just called me by a number. Or a bird. Depended on the tutors.”

“What about your parents’ names?”

“I never knew their names, I definitely didn’t know what they called me. I don’t even know if they kept me long enough to give me a name.” She pulled the duffle towards her to put the little black box inside. Steve pulled it and her attention back towards him.

“I don’t want to call you by some alias the Russain government gave you.” he said, “I want to be able to call you by your real name.”

“Are you sure you don’t just hate Russia?” she flipped her hair back as she looked up at him to ask.

“I hate the idea that a core part of your identity was assigned to you by the Soviet training facility who brainwashed and tortured you.”

Steve’s brutal honesty was going to kill her one of these days; like actually be the death of her. Because even though he said it in that same self-righteous commanding tone she found so incredibly annoying, he also somehow managed to work in sincere concern that absolutely drove her crazy. Especially that he was invoking in the middle of such a stupid argument.

She bit her lip and huffed out a sigh. “I wouldn’t say they brainwashed me. More like aggressive parenting techniques.” She pulled the duffle back towards her. “Can’t argue with the torture though.”

“Nat.” Steve said seriously, pulling the duffle away again.

“Just call me Nat.” She pulled it back. “Call me whatever you want.”

“That’s not how this works.” He pulled again.

She rolled her eyes, yanking back the black duffle and finally zipping it closed. “Names are overrated Rogers. Besides, half the time we’re together we’re in the field and you’re calling me Black Widow anyway.” She slung the bag over her shoulder and started heading out the door. Of course, Steve followed right on her heels. “So you’re still calling me by an alias the Russian government gave me.”

“I’m not calling you Widow when we’re not on a mission.” he said. “Soviet spy origin aside, there’s no way I’m going to refer to use as something so depressing.” Natasha laughed. “And untrue.”

Natasha quirked an eyebrow, twirling around to walk backwards facing Steve. “Almost sounds like you care about my lack of marital status.”

“That wasn’t my point.”

“Whatever you say, Cap” she joked and turned back around.

The whole argument was stupid and wouldn’t have happened if she’d just get her own place like the rest of the Howling Commandos. SHIELDS temporary housing units weren’t meant to be permanent residences, but that hadn’t stopped their team from taking over a whole hallway and common room. The place was great for when they were prepping or just coming back from a mission and need a day or two for debriefing. Steve also made sure they came together to train and bond as a team, because he was just that kind of friend and leader. When they didn’t have a mission, the guys all returned to their own homes, but Nat had chosen to stay at SHIELD. It was simpler, it was cheaper, it had a way better gym than any apartment complex, and best of all, it was empty. It gave her a chance for some peace and quiet away from the boys and the rest of SHIELDs agents scurrying around everywhere. Which is why when she’d gotten a call from Fury requesting she take an undercover mission as Natalia Romanova, she hadn’t expected her team leader to be there to hear. Or to get so upset over a name.

Natalia Romanova. Steve was acting like he was personally offended she hadn’t shared the name with him. It wasn’t like anyone else knew the name, besides Barton and Fury and Coulson, maybe some of the other SHIELD higher ups. It had been the name she gave Clint the first time they met, when he made the call to recruit her rather than take her out. She’d shed it after less than a week in the US. Too Russian. Too memorable. And the source for any annoying rumor that Grand Duchess Anastasia had been kidnapped and turned into an assassin to avenge the fall of Imperial Russia, and that Natalia was her granddaughter meant to carry on her mission. She had no emotional attachment to her name, and thus had barely had a reaction to changing it to Natasha Romanoff. Similar but different. Somehow softer and more America, but also tougher; it didn’t carry any dainty implications.

“Why does Stark sometimes call you Natalie?” Steve’s questioning brought her back to the moment.

“Howard never calls me that.”

“I meant Tony.” Ahh of course. Howard’s wayward son. Brilliant, fearless, horribly cocky. Had decided to continue Howard’s work with Stark Industries; not so much his work with SHIELD, except on the few occasions he’d been given ‘incentives’ to come work for them.

“That’s a reference to something that happened before you even joined Erskine’s program, it was mission and a cover and it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.” he continued to insist. Nat laughed him off. The elevator arrived and she stepped into it, turning around again to address him.

“Can we talk about this when I get back?”

“If your expecting me to let this go, I’m not.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you Steve.” she said as the elevator doors closed. Out of sight, she allowed herself a small smile. “Wouldn’t expect anything less at all.”

#romanogers #natasha romanoff #Steve Rogers #steve x nat #romanogers ff #romanogers fanfic

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 5 years ago

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Uncle Donald gave her $800 in the 1980s

She let him invest it for her up until now

And she has now $45B

I hope you enjoyed your game as there are more to come but with more people as it enters TV for free of course on Channel Fox.

As always enjoy life and what it brings with the most care you can afford.

Don't let the economy, crumble, Uncle Donald, i hit up JP for some cash since Jesse stole mine from United Business Bank located in Oregon, Washington, and New Mexico.

I own Chase, bought it with Donald and sold to the US Government for a mint. Jesse could got in on this deal but he wanted to challenge me instead.

So I asked Uncle Donald for a cash loan, how much he could afford and what was in his wallet. $4000 roughly. So we split it between his 4 kids (the 4th being me) and I gave him back $200 for the rest of the day.

And we returned to the bank and I asked him how to deposit the money into Chase Manhattan because Denise had bought me clothes but I wanted to be a fashion designer and had altered them So she threw them all away in a rage of jealousy and heat.

Of course i started to cry so we went back across the street to McDonald's and we talked. He said "i have a surprise for you, lets get to the bank"

So we walked alllllll around the building, up and down and he talked to a man and got us inside all the back rooms. He said "i wanna buy it!" And he turned to me and asked "would you like to invest your $800 into my bank as an investor?"

I said "what about my clothes! She said i had to return the money or else i get none!"

"But who did she spend the money on?"

"Me and my brothers and and her!"

"Well don't you think Its time to invest in you and your fashion?" He asked for my $800 i had to pull from 4 different pockets and my sock as he taught me to split to beat pick pocketers. And handed it all. He handed me back $200 and I handed it back then he handed me a $5 from his breast pocket and t told me to keep it.

And began to walk to the counter to buy the bank.

I chased after him and put it in his left cost pocket and told him, 'well you know you bought me lunch so you keep it"

I pulled it from his pocket to produce proof I had already given it and he couldn't give it back and then stuffed it back in deep, all the way i nearly ripped his shoulder off for which I promptly apologized, jumped on the counter and rubbed his soreness off and jumped down.

And he started to cry a little bashful at first then a full sob. And I tried to console him and Robby appeared with a trailing line of toilet paper so his silk hanky wouldn't be soiled with snot.

He thanked him and became startled and asked if he wanted in on the investment.

Robby said, "i might but i need to talk to you, I belong to this boarding school ran by this might be soon white bigger as he calls himself, inspired by her and taken completely out of context"

"Michael Jackson" interjected our new found Uncle Donald. "Come let's sit"

We moved to the side of the spacious lobby to a small table accompanied by two plus club chairs.

He and i talked about how neat it would be to have chaise chairs in Chase bank.

"Well, her mom is abusive, mostly about money so i would like to take control of her stock with her permission"

"Yes! I do! And i will wanna get married!" I jumped with my fist in the air and pushed against the chair like a standing push up and stood

....

"Her sit. First I would like to talk to you as an investor. I am run by the boarding house and they teach us things like to steal and bring back to get 'rewards' much often things less than they are worth like a stick of gum for $2 when I can get a whole pack for 20 cents. Uh oh, here he comes"

"Im about to invest into this bank with these two kids you got something you wanna say to me?" Instead of waiting for a reply, uncle Donald got up and briskly walked to the counter, asking to return to a different room, promptly and away from Mr Jackson whom was still solidly black (he doesn't have vitaligo its just bleached).

And we entered a nearly empty office and he turned fiercely, angry even, "this will be your office where you will WORK"

...

"Its okay! We are still friends!" I climbed into the chair then up onto the desk "this is where I will sit"

"Well close your legs and sit like a lady, like this hand me your foot, no don't take off your shoe"

"Well I didn't want to ruin you! Your suit is NICE!!"

And he moved my foot and crossed my ankles and patted my knee and said "or you cross at here"

I took my ankle to my knee "no not like that, that's like a man. Knee to knee"

"Oh like this?" I squeezed my knees together

Robby laughed and Uncle Donald looked flustered

"Oh i know I know cross at my knees, you need to explain better!" I patted his shoulder. In the 80s it was okay to touch, at least for a child.

"I said that first!"

"Oh! I interrupt!"

"No apologize" Robby groaned

"I apologize for interrupting"

"For?" Asked Donald "you can't tell her that Because ---"

"No he could I get misinformation that way"

"Except when I'm being scolded and she knows the truth" said Robby.

Tune in next week for another Miss Adventure of one Wild Single Mom's Childhood!

I had 48 cents. Robby had put in 2500 front Hayes then 1500 each from Mark and Mike Andrews which he had not signed and they got rejected. Yet Jesse notified me of this, restricted my remote deposit privileges and now i am to notify the Sheriff of Hays County, Austin, Texas that the money is kept hidden in the tax and revenue accounts of his great county. And to open an investigation which he will pretend he did and then not. So i get his hush money as well as the other two and the $15B JP Dejoria stupidly just paid me because i Told Jesse to tell his father in law that Jesse is a stupid piece of shit which he didn't.

And of course I will invest in schools across the nation, installing playgrounds at any schools that do not have them, including intermediate, Jr high, middle, High and etc.. And may be finally lockers at least were I'm centrally located and/or where i want to be, namely at high schools at least.

Because that is what I want to do. Make people happy in the funniest ways possible.

And if there is any left I want to reinvest at the parks i originally invested in, initially, to make them better snd brighter, starting at the older to the newer.

I want the world to seem happier and brighter and in the case of schools at least around here once they hit 7th grade (middle school) they change schools to those that no longer have lockers or desks to put things in, 7 or more teachers to please instead of one or two they spend all day with, like a parent who gives love and kindness and retribution, they go through puberty which in itself is a chore. Then the kids riot. I've seen it in small schools and i know it happens in big ones. 20 in one week at the beginning of school less than a mile from my house where i can hear the school bell.

And so they need a place to sleep their weary heads like the shoulder of an old friend instead of weeping a soul they can no longer call their own.

The secrets i have included here broke my heart to where it actually stopped over and over.

Instead of asking what was wrong, Mr Moneybags Jesse sent me to the doctor alone. -.-

He could have provided me with what i needed like I provided and protected him from Ms Dejoria and Mark Hindberg, Afghanistan and Iraq, which I will no longer do.

He is the one that encouraged Michael Jackson to pickpocket the slaves he had created.

Yes Michael Jackson is Wacko, is Him and is burning in Hell because I killed him with my own pistol Jesse had stolen from a cop, altered and resold to himself at a cheaper price than the way over inflated price he created to create a deficit in his company to receive a refund from the US government's IRS Department in the amount of $8,000 instead of paying the $1M he owed.

I plead guilty before a judge and Uncle Donald, Mrs Katherine Jackson, the Anne my 4 year old daughter that Michael Jackson attempted to rape in front of me, as well as Robby, my true love and of course Sunny and Jesse James himself whom gave me the gun.

Then, before then President Barack Obama, i was exonerated and pardoned completely without the possibility of parole or any other misconceptions that would be included with self defense manslaughter.

This week total I have arrested a total of 19 men and women thanks to the CIA as an unpaid civilian.

That would guarantee me Presidentship of one really great country, now, wouldn't it?

Thanks. And not to be repeated: No more games. Only truth.

Until next time my fair weather friends!

Now! Let's grab the bookie!!! Snag! You're in jail. What did ya know, Mike Andrews, I knew all along that Mark Hindberg was FBI. Why didn't you think that?

Moving along, hi JP. How are you? No one cares. Good thing you trusted into your rapist daughter who was married to a true hero whom puts up with my shit even after we name him Mr Vomit cause I make him so scared he actually vomits like I did tonight (that's included. No more scare, only truth)

Oh yes, JP, you have already been arrested and so you know -- you have no guns with you, right? Alexis Dejoria is no rapist, she's actually an excellent FBI agent whom hates her dad and is included in any exonerations I may have to hand out butbat my leisurely pace, because she actually didn't rape anybody!

Also the US government will pay your wages as you did file a lawsuit this very week by signing up with Namus.gov like we all did.

She like me, was an unpaid civilian whom ran into luck. While she's smart, she's not smart like me. Thus she's the FBI vs me who is CIA and can work against the world in a millisecond as i usually do and have in Afghanistan and Iraq where i protected many NHRA members during their tours in the US Military while they served with Jesse James and my little brother and were even kidnapped thanks to Matt Hagan's temper tantrum and Jesse James refusal to listen to command. Eventually I saved them from that too in a day and 6 hours after leaving base. They were involuntary bound and gagged and beaten within 20 minutes of their capture. Within the next 20 when I was finally told of their status they were rescued by Tony Schumacher and his team.

And now i have saved the NHRA from being beaten and raped and tortured. My time to continue here at home is not wasted,

I love you all and thank you very much for listening...

And now i have something to say about Jesse since i made him puke from a lie via email Because he made me mad for being a Dick douchebag and not caring enough about me, not wrecking his motorcycle and then lying to make me feel bad and stupider than ever although I saw the wreck and my being a girl, up and President running, couldn't stop to rescue or assist a man on his feet whom had already picked up his bike after a wipe out and the trailer passed me up to show me he would assist because forgive those trespassers as we trespass ourselves and i care that he could really been hurt. That may be a fault of mine but it is called Grace and not salvation which is being my daughter reincarnated into a goat in Iraq to keep everyone safe because Jesse is a dumb dumb sometimes and Matt Hagan prefers truth over himself, sometimes. Like being in love with a goat of my daughter's soul, in Iraq. (I bet he fucked her, too. Bestiality freak. Not my business tho, nor yours. But still, let's laugh instead of poking fun at his misadventures. It is funny, yo!)

Jesse cared about the goat so much he listened to her over every one, even me. Because he believed she was closer to God where he needed to be..

I changed his life once in Alabama and several times then, over and over, any time that need be.

But finally for this one time he trusted somebody else and learned to love as much as he could, the soul inside of him.

So God bless to all of the two headed creatures we will see wandering around the backs of people at the NHRA in the future to come. Including even on me.

I'm Mrs Cougar cause of my fingernails and my desire to be with someone young to keep me fresh and Alive -- not by his blood byt by the life he gives me. And he will be Mr Snake the one who slithers up beside me only for love while I labor in the grass kicking myself for what i might have done but not for what i might have missed out on because I was there the whole time thinking and feeling and frolicking through the grass, same as me.

And of course my tattoo will be scary cause the world as I know it, very much can be.

And you can thank me for the past or you can think about the future and beyond!!!

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