#but like descendants people we're all in agreement here right

[lesbiancocksucker]

i finally caved and watched the new descendants movie and yeah i am not a teenager anymore 👍

[fbfh]

curiosity is a wonderful thing - chapter 1

wc: 2k

genre: slice of life, slow burn, best friends to lovers

pairing: slowburn best friend ben! x fem daughter of alice!reader, current audrey x ben

warnings: audrey being a bitch, unnecessary amounts of tea, ben being ben, mildly implied nd reader

summary: after a junior royal council meeting, you hype up your best friend Ben to tell his parents about his plans for his first proclaimation as king.

song recs: main titles 1 2 & 3 - descendants score/david lawrence, cheshire kitten (we're all mad here) - sj tucker

a/n: THE NEW SERIES IS HERE!!!! I am so excited for this, it's been one of my comfort indulgence daydreams for the longest time so I'm really elated to share it with y'all. BIG FAT FANGZ TO CICI FOR BETA READING!!!!!! and fangz to you guys for reading!!!!! I hope you enjoy lol <333 have an optional outfit. as a treat.

tags @dustyinkpages @demirunner @strawberry-cake1 @kiara7777 @yesv01 @magcon7280

Audrey was shocked when Ben had first told her that you and he weren't dating. She knew that you were friends, best friends at that. Everyone in Auradon did. Everyone also knew that what you had between you couldn't possibly be just platonic, not with the way you look at each other, how much time you spend together, or how intimately you speak to each other. It’s like you have your own language.

Everyone in Auradon knows this, with the exception of you and Ben, apparently. Even now, in the middle of a junior royal council meeting, Aziz shares a pitying look with Herkie at the way Audrey holds onto Ben’s arm while he goes over the agenda. Neither of them miss the way her gaze flicks between you two, trying to see if you’re stealing glances. You’re seated at his right hand side, like you usually are, as he goes over the last few items on the agenda for the meeting today and try to pay as much attention as you can. You scribble in your notebook as he does, nibbling at a tea biscuit and trying not to miss any of the important bits. 

“...Facing a longstanding struggle to keep up with the increased demand of the textile industry,” Ben says, skimming through his papers. He glances up, and he knows no one is really paying attention except for you. “Looking to open up a- a more collaborative process of dialog with key workers in the textile industry, and unified front between all the major groups who paved the way to textiles as we know them today, while also compensating for the rise in automation.” 

Across the table, Chad yawns. Lonnie and Melody pass notes between them, at least attempting to be subtle about it. You listen to Ben continue to update everyone on the ongoing current events in Auradon, and your pen drifts away from taking notes as you do, and begins to scribble little shapes in the margins of your well loved notebook. Your other hand moves down under the table, adjusting your pale blue skirt and tugging at the elastic of your black and white striped stockings. Ben’s gaze flicks over to you as you adjust in your seat, tugging at the puffy sleeves of your white blouse a moment later. He can tell you’re starting to get fidgety, which means it’s about time to wrap all this up. Plus, he has a suit fitting in ten minutes that he can’t be late for, or else Lumier will probably char something by accident. 

“Negotiations are still in progress, and of course, we’re looking for any way possible to avoid an embargo. I think that’s the last thing anyone needs…” Ben trails off with a chuckle, only to be met with silence. He looks back at his paper, trying to find his place before the silence gets anymore awkward. Before he can, he hears you let out a puff of air in agreement. 

“That’s quite an understatement.” You smile up at him, catching his eye before you each return to your respective papers. Your Wonderlandian accent is comforting, like a familiar friend in a tough crowd. People have described your accent many ways, most concluding it’s somewhere between british and transatlantic, but you don’t think you have much of an accent at all. Ben says you do, and you trust his judgment on the topic. Audrey maintains a tight smile on her face as Ben gently frees his arm from her to look through his papers in more detail. Once he’s sure he’s not missing anything, he goes through the usual motions of wrapping up a junior council meeting. 

“All party planning committee members are welcome to hang back, the floor is yours,” He says to Audrey, gathering up all his papers with a smile. “Everyone else, thank you for your time as always, and have a good evening.” 

Ben heads to the door as people start to funnel out and make conversation. Audrey waits as the other people on the party planning committee move up the table to sit closer to her, glancing at you as you put your notebook, pens, notes, and teacup back into that teapot shaped bag you always carry. It’s enchanted with Wonderland magic, and it makes her uneasy. She thinks you should just get a tote bag, or backpack, like a normal person. 

“Bunny,” Ben calls from the doorway, getting your attention with the nickname he’s had for you for years. Her train of thought quickly turns away from bags as  you look over, noticing it’s time to go and scurrying over to him. She watches you both talk quietly and head to wherever you’re going next, trying to ignore the quiet, burning jealousy seeping up into her. It’s nothing new, she reminds herself. She knew you two were best friends when she got together with her Bennyboo, so she knew what she was signing herself up for.

“Are we ready?” She asks curtly, turning towards Jane. She refuses to spend another second worrying about you, and instead, she channels all her energy into sifting through streamer sample colors. Whatever you two are doing can’t be as important as this. She’s sure whatever you’re discussing right now during Ben’s suit fitting is just meaningless small talk. Nothing of any importance. 

“I… truly don’t think you could have picked a better, more impactful first proclamation, Ben.” You conclude with a sip of raspberry tea. A wave of relief washes through him as he pulls on the blue suit jacket for Lumier to tailor. 

“You think so? Because, I-I’m only going to get to do this once, and-” 

He’s cut off by you nodding solemnly. 

“What better way to pave the way to the future than mending rifts of the past?” You ask rhetorically. 

“Yes!” Ben exclaims, letting his hands fall to his sides with a smile, a gesture you mirror. “You get it…” 

“Of course.” You smile at him, and it’s quiet for a moment as you take another sip of your tea. “You know your parents will…” You begin, but Ben is already nodding. 

“Oh yeah.” He agrees. “I wrote down everything from the pros column, and ideas for everything in the cons.” 

“Good,” you say, encouragingly. 

“And I have a great mission statement.” He adds, and you can see him getting fired up. You know how much this means to him, how much of his heart he’s putting into helping as many people as possible and being a good king to everyone, even the citizens on the Isle. If you know Ben - and you’re sure you do by now - you know how he can start to overthink things right before a presentation, even an informal one. He’s as prepared as he’ll ever be, and you have his back. He knows this.

“Oh, I meant to ask,” you say breezily as Lumier enters, “how are things going with Audrey?”  

You wiggle your eyebrows at him, sending him a comically scandalous look. He laughs as you wave hello to Lumier, and you think it’s the first time he’s relaxed in the last 30 hours or so. You flip through your journal, selecting a few pictures you took recently of flora in Wonderland, doodling their leaves and stalks on a mostly blank page. He laughs, hanging his head at the unexpected nature of the question, and Lumier pulls out a tape measure to begin the alterations of Ben’s suit. 

“You’re really- we’re really going to go there?” He asks through a smile. You look up at him, nodding. 

“Mhm.” You confirm. He can’t say no to you, he never can. 

“Okay. Uh, yeah things are good. With me and Audrey.” 

“Good,” you smile, looking up from your paper. He wonders what you’re working on, and always looks forward to seeing your little drawings. Even the ones you dislike, he finds beautiful. He tries to think of what else is going on with Audrey. 

“We, uh… we have a date later this week.” 

“Sleeve.” Lumier interjects, moving Ben’s arm.

“Oh, how fun!” You smile. 

“Head.” Lumier turns Ben to look out the large windows. He thinks for another moment, struggling to find anything else Audrey related to talk about as you distract yourself with the expression of a pouting mushroom you’d gotten a good picture of last time you were in Wonderland. Before he can think of anything else his eyes land on the Isle. His mind wanders toward how forgotten everyone out there must feel. You look up at him, following his gaze. 

“I know.” You say softly. You’ve discussed the Isle and its’ residents at great lengths, both finding a greater deal of compassion for them than most people seem to have. 

“How is it possible that you’re going to be crowned king next month?” Comes King Adam’s booming voice as he and Belle enter from the patio doors. 

“Hello, dear,” Belle smiles at you, resting a hand on your shoulder as they pass, approaching Ben, and you smile a greeting back up at her, and begin putting away your notebook. As close as you two are, you can’t expect anyone but the royal family to be in the room during discussions of Ben’s first proclamation. Both you and Ben knew this had to be a conversation between him and his parents, and as much as you both might like it to be, it’s not really something he can do with you by his side. You scurry past him, sending him an encouraging look. 

“You’ll do great.” You say, your voice just low enough for him to hear it. You touch his arm encouragingly until Lumier shoos you away, not wanting anything to jeopardize the way he finally got Ben’s shoulder to lay on that side. Ben locks eyes with you as you leave. It’s only a moment, but those three words, that one little gesture from you have him more ready than ever. He prepares himself with a breath. 

You’ll probably sneak off to Wonderland for a while, like you usually do with any pockets of spare time you find, so you’ll get to update him on the feud going on between the bluebirds and inchworms by the time he’s done. He takes comfort in that, knowing that even in the worst case scenario, even if everything goes horribly wrong, you’ll still have some fascinating Wonderland stories for him, just like you always do. He finds great comfort in the thought as his parents approach, and knows two things; it’s time for him to begin stepping up, and that you have his back all the way. 

You close the heavy wooden door behind you, walking a few feet down the hall so you don’t accidentally eavesdrop. You sit down against the wall to wait for Ben, and your mind drifts to Wonderland, as it so often does. There’s a peace there, something you’ve never been able to find overland. It calls to you, like a sailor’s heart calls to the sea. You wonder if you have time for a quick trip, just a few minutes in paradise, but you know it’s never really just a few minutes. Time works differently in Wonderland than it does in overland, and it’s unpredictable. The last thing you want is not to be here when Ben is done talking to his parents. 

“I’d better not…” you sigh. Being here for Ben is more important right now. He’s your best friend. So you settle into your little spot in the hallway, smoothing out your blue skirt around you. You reach into your teapot shaped bag, pulling out a small white porcelain teacup with little violets on it, and a matching saucer. You think for a moment about what kind of tea you want right now. Hibiscus, you decide, with a touch of honey. You tilt the spout of your bag, letting the perfectly brewed cup of tea fall from the spout. You take a sip, leafing through your homework to see what you can bore yourself with to pass the time. You don’t know how long Ben will be in there, and you don’t care too much. You’re sure he’ll do wonderfully, and that’s really all you care about right now. 

[sugarlucille]

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                                                                                                                          06.01.17 

It's officially my wedding day: take two.

Months of work all set to culminate in a single grand performance; one take that will serve as the crown jewel in a beautiful, yet incomplete setting of moments highlighting a relationship that is far from its end.

I think about the other jewels in my life with Jesse as I tip around the home that isn't my own, grateful for his mother's hospitality but unable to sleep hours before the day that will be almost completely mine. I don't see other frames like the one we're hours from capturing. Unlike the single moment our wedding will be, the other jewels are montages, glinting through my mind in flickering shimmers...

The way that my hand has been finding his and his finding mine for the last ten years, twining our fingers on walks or drives, in crowds, at dinners, events, and banquets, while we're thoughtfully tangled on the couch or recklessly tangled in bed...

The way that we swim deeply in the pools of each other's talents and traits, appreciating efforts on stage and screen--behind and in front of the camera, reveling greedily in sleepy lullabies and soft affirmations, delivering unending praise to egos that can't grow any larger...

The way that we've pried one another apart and wedged into the gaps we created, accepting that he would became the one who feeds me on those days where I still don't think about food and I would became the one who never lets him construct walls around the things he's feeling...

Ten years feels like a lifetime for two people who seemed to have settled on one another long ago. We could have married right after high school, at some point in college, prior to moving in together, before having a child, or at any point throughout the years when our bond showed no signs of breaking. We'd already imagined a lifetime together--not in those exact terms the whole time, but we couldn't see an end in sight. We promised not to give one another up at 17 and 18 and embraced being selfish with each other even back then. To me, a wedding has been little more than a giant party with both of our families to confirm what we already knew.

I walk past windows overlooking a city that doesn't hold still. I've brought as much of Los Angeles here that I could. I've sprinkled LA around our home in Tribeca in the form of warm colors, seashells, sunlight, and California poppies, all of which have worked their way into the details of our ceremony. I've also invited as much of my family as I could to witness my nuptials, a wave from the west that has comfortably blanketed the days and evenings leading up to today.

Aunts and uncles and cousins abound; the Mottas are here in full force, descending on the city many of them view as the cold, cluttered, constricting opposite of the stretching valleys and depths of land along the California coast they're used to. I felt the same way about New York once upon time. I saw it as this lingering creature, one that I knew would always call to Jesse in one way or another and force me to make peace with the locale. Now we've come to an agreement, New York City and I. We don't see eye to eye about the underground deathtrap, the street meat, the snow-covered winters, the constant noise, the almost mythical beaches, yards, and outdoor pools, the suffocatingly close living quarters, or the stunning lack of visible stars at night... However, there's more here to love than there is to hate and the things I love here are things I refuse to live without.

I only argued a bit when everyone insisted I sleep alone so that I could rest, but I still seek out my daughter and find her blissfully asleep and cuddled against her aunt.

Although I prefer Vivi to sleep on her own so that Jess and I don't lose our bed, I don't even think to pry her from Pepper's arms and I hope that their connection soothes that part of my big sister that wrinkles when she talks about her attempts to have a child of her own. Madeline has been...surprising in those conversations that lob between my still feeling my way around as a mother and Pepper's unyielding desire to become one as the three of us string together a system of support knotted tighter by our shared love of each other and the little girl who has found a way to change all of our lives without trying at all.

In a few hours, I know Vivi will run to my mother when she arrives to get ready for the day, having chosen to stay in her hotel suite to ensure that my father wouldn't spend the entire night working, and I will see that softness I never recognized in Madeline until Vivi existed. I promised my mother that she could help get Vivi ready and I am glad to not worry about the task of chasing around my very curious and very mobile almost sixteen-month-old to get her into the "ball of fluff" dress my younger brother so lovingly dubbed her outfit for the big day. ...Basil's snark is another thing I am glad to be momentarily rid of as he has promised me a full 24 hours where he won't push any of the well-worn buttons he's created over the years.

Back in my temporary bedroom, I eye the garment bag protecting the most perfect thing I have ever designed and will ever wear. I don't need to part the zipper to know what's housed inside. The handmade dress isn't white. Not quite. Audrey and I spent hours on the color, choosing an exact shade that would suit my skintone, complement my eyes, and pair well with--while simultaneously standing out against--a million little details I've spent far more hours pouring over. Both Audrey and I have always understood the importance of little things, registered that something being understated wasn't the same as it being nonexistent. Her eye for detail has always been admirable and it was easily the first thing I noticed about my other half's mother upon meeting her many years ago.

We both notice the way her son will always attempt to mask his sentimentality, though we're both well aware of its existence. I know it will be on full display during our celebration, communicated loudly through shared vows and toasts, quietly through whispered exchanges in any semi-private moment we can grasp, and silently through each gaze and touch I'll share with him throughout the day.

I find my way back to bed and I am fully settled with the fact that I no longer enjoy sleeping alone. I accept that I am spoiled beyond belief by someone who has already vowed to spend the rest of his life keeping me that way. And as my fingers ghost the empty half of the mattress I lie atop, I smile knowing without a doubt that my current state is one that I'll rarely experience ever again.

[alectoperdita]

could you do #28 from small details for fictional kisses prompts, please?

From small details for fictional kisses prompts

28. an accidental kiss between two exes

Sooooo this one kinda got away from me. I needed an elaborate setup to get there. 🤣

Warning: they're currently broken up but it's a hopeful open ending?

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

"I need a favor."

Few words pained Kaiba more. Yet how readily and automatically Jounouchi, his ex, had responded with "what do you need?" stung almost as hard.

After Kaiba explained his predicament, silence descended on the call. He drummed his thigh, waiting for Jounouchi to say something—anything. He'd made what he believed to be the proper appeals and given the necessary assurances. Did he imagine Jounouchi's previous readiness to render assistance?

A heavy exhale, shaky-sounding, whooshed across the phone line. "Okay, when do you need me to be there?"

"We're planning for this Saturday, but if there's a better time to fit your—"

Jounouchi cut him off. "No. That's fine. I'm free then. Just, uh, send me the time when you have that decided?"

Kaiba slumped in his seat, the tension draining from him like wind from a sail. He was so relieved that all he said was "thank you," to which Jounouchi answered with a vague but affirmative noise. The phone call then ended without even stilted goodbyes.

In hindsight, Kaiba should have questioned Jounouchi's easy acquiescence more. As the clock approached twenty minutes past the designated meeting time with neither hide nor hair of his ex, doubt plagued Kaiba.

What if Jounouchi changed his mind? How was Kaiba supposed to explain his sudden unexplained absence? What if this was Jounouchi's actual intention? To leave Kaiba high and dry after agreeing to help?

Was this payback?

The break-up had been mutual. Amicable, even. No one threw out an ultimatum, much less screamed or hurled accusations. They hadn't even been in the same damn country when they reached the agreement. A two-year-plus-three-months-long relationship that began with a bang and fizzled out like a doused spark, only fatigued sighs as they both stared down yet another two months of hellishly mismatched schedules.

Some people would point out how it was a sign they'd matured. That neither felt the need to raze and salt the fertile earth they'd cultivated between them during that time. Neglect invited weeds to overtake the space. It wouldn't have been impossible. But neither could find the time, energy, or headspace to sort out the tangled mess.

A cliche, maybe—but it didn't make the underwhelming reality any less true: they'd drifted apart and out of each other's lives.

At the light tug on his coat, Kaiba glanced down. Large, round gray-blue eyes stared up at him, unassuming. His heart clenched at how much the child looked like his father at that age.

"Uncle Seto, will Uncle Katsuya be here soon?" his niece asked.

Kaiba clenched his jaws. "He's probably running late."

"You should call him," she continued, confident as only a seven-year-old was. "Mommy and daddy always call each other if someone's late. To make sure the other person's safe!"

Mokuba and Rebecca loitered nearby, but neither stepped in to rescue Kaiba. Why should they? As far as they were concerned, Kaiba had been dating Jounouchi Katsuya for the last two and a half years. Was still in a relationship with the man he previously derided as a "loser dog" or "deadbeat."

Maybe this was revenge, served ice-cold more than a decade afterwards.

As she slipped her tiny hand into his, Kaiba retrieved his phone. The read receipt on his message confirming the meeting time and place and the subsequent lack of a reply mocked Kaiba for his naivety.

Right above it was the last communication he'd received from Jounouchi: "miss you" sent just four days prior to their break-up.

The complete radio silence between them merely confirmed that they'd made the right choice.

Kaiba shoved the phone deep into his pocket.

"Everything okay?" Mokuba asked after he and Rebecca moved closer.

His niece answered in his stead. "Uncle Katsuya's missing!"

Mokuba arched a skeptical eyebrow, while Rebecca smothered a laugh.

"He's probably running late. Missed his alarm and overslept," Kaiba reasoned. His voice remained even-toned despite his growing agitation.

Rebecca perked up. "Hotaru, honey, don't worry. Here he comes."

Kaiba turned as his niece squealed and tore away her hand. Jounouchi, flushed and windswept, hurried toward them with an aggressive jog. Hotaru sprinted to meet him at a breakneck speed, launching herself and screeching, "Uncle Katsuya!" at the top of her lungs.

"Oh, shit!" Jounouchi exclaimed, practically dive-bombing to catch her. "Careful!"

"Jounouchi! Language!" Mokuba reprimanded.

Jounouchi hoisted Hotaru into his arms before wincing and apologizing, "Sorry. And sorry for making you guys wait." If his hands weren't full, he'd scratch the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Hotaru threw her stubby arms around his neck. "Is it true? Did you oversleep? Uncle Seto says you did."

Kaiba and Jounouchi locked eyes, but Jounouchi looked away first. "Something like that," he muttered.

Air flooded Kaiba's flared nostrils, but he was careful to not let his shoulders tense or his hands clench into fists. He kept his distance as Mokuba and Rebecca moved forward to greet his ex. Without releasing Hotaru, Jounouchi returned their greetings heartily and with the appropriate amount of teasing. To the casual observer, Jounouchi looked fine—probably better than fine in that effortlessly casual style of his; low-hanging cargo pants, fitted tee, and bomber jacket.

But Kaiba could read the stiffness distorting the edge of his expressions. Could hear the discomfort that frayed his voice, which was only a notch better than the exhaustion that Kaiba had become accustomed to in the twilight days of their relationship.

Four pairs of eyes drilled into Kaiba, studying him with varying levels of concern or confusion. He had been staring for too long. After clearing his throat, he closed the distance in three long strides. He didn't miss the lingering once-over that Jounouchi gave. Much like his ex, Kaiba had dressed down for today's outing in his version of casual: turtleneck, slim-fit slacks, and a light trench coat. Against his better judgment, embers rekindled for having earned a smidgen of admiration from his ex.

"Katsuya," he said, pushing past the awkward fumble of consonants and vowels he'd once been so intimately familiar with.

Three months felt like forever.

It was like no time had passed.

Rebecca took Hotaru from Jounouchi. The family of three moved aside as if to make space for him and Jounouchi to get closer.

After a beat, Jounouchi shuffled a half-step toward him. He offered a tight smile, but his eyes were soft. "Hiya, Seto."

The knot in Kaiba's chest unfurled a fraction, even as the sound of his given name strummed his heartstrings. Jounouchi was here. This could work. They could get through the day. His worries must have shone through despite his attempts to hide them. He flinched when Jounouchi laid a gentle hand on his arm. Then he gawked at the familiar sight of his ex's fingers curled around the inside of his elbow. Warmth bled through multiple layers. It felt like they were touching skin-to-skin.

In a low voice, Jounouchi said, "Sorry for being late. Time kinda got away from me. I wasn't sure what to wear, and it all spiraled from there. I swear I wasn't trying to—"

"It's fine. You're here." Seto exhaled a shaky breath. That was all he'd asked for Jounouchi's presence so that Hotaru could enjoy the day with her favorite uncle.

Jounouchi squeezed his arm before releasing him. His hands returned listlessly to his side, fingers flexing. "Yeah. I am."

When his ex released him and straightened, sunlight bounced off his necklace pendant, drawing Kaiba's attention. Suddenly, Kaiba's mouth ran dry. The necklace was a gift he'd prepared for their first anniversary. While he hadn't expected Jounouchi to throw it away, he never expected to see it again, much less around Jounouchi's neck.

"We should get going," Jounouchi said and nodded toward the small family. "Before they think something's up."

Not trusting himself to speak, Kaiba simply nodded and followed.

***

For better or for worse, the awkwardness between them was short-lived.

A dismayed part of Kaiba wished they hadn't fallen so easily into their previous pattern while dating. It begged the unfortunate question of why—why had it been so easy to fall out of contact when this capacity to tease and banter held strong?

It served their needs for the day, though. Their relationship had not been public knowledge. Even if it had been, neither were prone to public displays of affection. So being able to converse normally and be friendly with his ex when they each had one hand claimed by his clingy niece, swinging their arms wide as they strolled through KaibaLand was an important component of selling the act to his brother's family. They drew some stares, but mostly for who they were, and not necessarily because they were together in public.

Long gone were their teenage days of quarreling and insulting each other in public.

But Hotaru couldn't serve as a buffer between them forever. As much as she adored her uncles, she still reveled in being the apple of her parents' eyes.

So when she demanded Mokuba and Rebecca ride the carousel with her, Kaiba and Jounouchi declined, choosing to wait to the side of the ride. The distance they stood from one another was just enough room for a precocious seven-year-old to insert herself when she returned. Kaiba shifted, tempted to consult his phone for a distraction, an urge that Jounouchi had already succumbed to. Instead, he studied his ex out of the corner of his eyes, noting his rosy cheeks and the fluffy bangs falling long into his chocolate eyes.

"Quit eyeballin' me. S'weird."

Kaiba blinked and fixed his gaze forward. "I wasn't."

Jounouchi merely scoffed in disbelief.

Unfortunately, that became another pattern that emerged over the day. Being left alone with Jounouchi wasn't painful, but it grated like a dull toothache or a splinter under his skin. The most extreme example was the Ferris wheel, where Hotaru chose again to ride with her parents, leaving the two of them alone in their own carriage with a desert of withered conversations spanned between them.

At least until Jounouchi obliterated it with a verbal grenade.

"You never told Mokuba we broke up."

Kaiba barely suppressed a wince, forcibly diverting his attention from the other man to the grounds outside. "It slipped my mind."

Which was the truth, and had been exceedingly easy to do when they lived on separate continents and time zones. But saying it out loud made him sound absent-minded.

Or worse, avoidant.

But instead of fighting or insulting him, Jounouchi sighed loudly and let his head loll, hitting the windowpane with a thunk. He stared out at the clear, autumnal sky, a melancholy note soaked through into his voice. "Yeah, guess time flies when you're an adult."

This time, Kaiba observed the man openly, making no secret of his scrutiny. Sunlight burnished Jounouchi's golden hair as a soft breeze ruffled the strands as gently as a lover's hand. Kaiba acutely remembered how they felt sliding between his fingers, so often accompanied by a warm weight pillowed against his shoulder. Ignoring the lump in his throat and the itch on his palm, he gazed out at the park again.

They passed the rest of the ride in silence.

***

All good things must end. Today included, because it had been a good one.

Even when Jounouchi clung to his arm for dear life, cutting all circulation, while he hissed and cursed at Kaiba for the haunted mansion's ultra-realistic holograms, or when his ex stumbled into his arms, slightly green around his face after going completely ham on the teacups ride. It was worth it—to both of them—to bring out Hotaru's gleeful laughter and high-pitched screams of delight.

But now the sun descended toward the horizon, and his niece's energy sunset along with it. Hotaru hugged Mokuba's neck tightly, burying her face in his shoulder as she was carried to the car. Rebecca strung one arm with Mokuba's and took the side opposite of her daughter. The small family was several steps ahead of where Kaiba and Jounouchi walked side-by-side, close enough that the back of their hands occasionally brushed with each other.

Neither moved to prevent the situation from occurring.

"Thank you for coming today." Kaiba kept his volume low as the parents tucked the drowsy Hotaru into the backseat.

Jounouchi offered him a tired but genuine smile. "No problem. It was fun."

Kaiba did not dispute his assertion. "Do you need a ride? It'd be a squeeze but—"

Jounouchi shook his head. "No thanks. I'm good. I came on my bike. Pretty sure your people would impound it if I left it in the lot overnight."

"Drive safely then."

"I still can't believe what a worrywart you're about that. You!" exclaimed Jounouchi while rolling his eyes.

"Need I remind you about Barcelona?"

"Oh my god, seriously? You ever gonna let me live that down?"

"What do you think?"

Without meaning to, the last bit of space between them vanished. Jounouchi leaned against his side, virtually pouting. The day's dying light set his eyes ablaze and cast shadows that accentuated the contours of his kissable lips. Kaiba's body moved without his brain's command as he reflexively ducked his head down to bring their mouths together. Jounouchi's lips were cool against his own, but also stock-still. He didn't return the kiss. It seemed that he'd forgotten to breathe.

Or maybe that was Kaiba.

Kaiba hastily wheeled back. Away from his ex and his shell-shocked expression. "Muscle memory," he said, as if that explained everything. Which it both did and didn't. "I didn't mean—"

Jounouchi didn't let him finish. Probably for the best. "It's fine. I get it. It was an accident."

Kaiba nodded, words drying into dust within his parched throat.

His ex shoved his hands deep into his pockets and held his shoulders in a tense posture. "Don't forget to tell 'em later. I'll—I'll see you around, Kaiba."

When Jounouchi turned and fled the scene, Kaiba let him go. A knot, one that should have been present when they had that fateful phone conversation months ago but wasn't, settled inside his chest. It refused to go away. After Hotaru had been put to bed for the night and he spent the rest of the evening catching up with Mokuba and Rebecca, it swelled and clogged his throat whenever he tried to bring up the break-up.

It only went away when he picked up his phone and called Jounouchi.

[shelby-love]

HANK VOIGHT

Dating the Big Boss.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): mentions of r*pe and p*dophilia (it's a tough case)

Author's note: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Especially since everyone is a lot older so I could play with maturity a little. Hope you enjoyed and sorry for the long wait! I'm just starting to get back to writing.

~

"What's up with him?" Erin whispered when she saw Voight barge into the unit's personal quarters. Hank didn't look at any of them as he strode into his office with a frown on his face.

He was angry, that's for sure.

Still hot on his tail, your senior detective self arrived right on que with him. Every pair of eyes was on you, knowing that you were the only one who had magic to calm him. You waved your hands, dismissing their burning questions all at once. You just crossed your fingers for them all to see and walked into your lover's office without knocking.

"Hank let's talk about this," You approached him carefully.

"There's nothing to talk about here Y/N."

"Yes, there is." You sat at the edge of his desk casually, although your heart was still racing upon hearing the news delivered to you this morning. "We have a serial rapist and pedophile out there. It's okay to be affected by it honey."

"Well I don't have any leads on this case," He told you strictly, although the anxiety was visible on his shoulders. He had his back turned to you and face focused on the city in front of him. The wheels turning and working in his brain were practically visible for the whole world to see.

"Then maybe we should look into our contacts and see who can help us," You proposed quietly. "This is far from over Hank. We can still turn this around."

You could see him nod, which instantly calmed you down. "Come here."

He, as surprising as it may sound, listened to your words, and walked over to your arms.

He placed his rough hands on your thighs while you ran your hands over his arms soothingly. Eventually your cold hands grasped his face as you gave him a soft look, "Do you want me to brief the team?"

"Thank you," You giggled, still not used to those words leaving his mouth.

The two of you shared a kiss before you left him alone with his thoughts to brief the team. Upon joining them you felt tension rise again, it made you remember what you were meant to do at that moment. "Is he alright?" Erin asked you quietly. You only managed to nod your head before ushering her to her seat.

Then you took a stand in front of them, a file filled with gore pictures secure in your hand. "A few days ago we found a female that was beaten, raped and murdered just outside the Riverwalk area. She was found in a dumpster just outside the Belle Hotel. Roughly 9 years old and unfortunately not the only case."

You spoke with authority that matched Voight's to a certain level. As a senior to all of them it was your job to deliver the details loud and clear. "There have been a few more cases similar to this one. Brody Thompson declared as missing just over a week ago was found two days ago in an area like this one. His left pinky was cut of just like the first victim's..." You placed a picture of a little boy on the board.

"Same MO?" Erin asked, scribbling things vigorously into her notepad. You nodded sadly.

"Are all of the victims children?" Burgess asked from the other side of the room. When you bobbed your head to her in confirmation you could practically see the heartbreak that struck her.

"We believe that we're dealing with a serial rapist and pedophile." You sighed.

"The MO is unique, and it doesn't look like he's been very careful with where he dumps the bodies," Jay notes. "It should be easy to find him since he's bound to make a mistake."

"That's where it gets tricky," You tell him, appreciating his quickness in noticing the details. "These are only cases reported in Chicago within the last few weeks. If we expand the search, which we did, there are dozens of other reported cases all around Ohio, Virginia, Rhode Island and lastly… New York."

A cool cloak of silence fell over the room once you've finished marking the spots. "Some date back to 10 years so we're looking for someone in his early to mid-forties. Maybe even older. Virginia State Police was only able to give us cases within the last 5 years, and we've hit four matches so far."

"Why are they handing the case to us? NYPD should be able to handle this." It was Alvin who had asked that question to which you opened your mouth to answer immediately.

But Hank, your boyfriend and partner, was quicker.

"Because we're the most qualified to do it," He explained, voice booming across the room. He joined your side and placed his hand on your hip; it was that after all, only the members of this very unit knew about you two. "Now, I've pulled out some old contacts from New York. They should be arriving here on the first jet they get their hands on. Until then I want you guys everywhere."

When his gaze slid to yours a twinkle of determination shone within his irises, "Let's get this son of a bitch."

***

"Sargent Benson," you greet the woman that just descended the stairs of the jet. The only people on the tarmac are the two of you and the officers you brought here. "Thank you for coming on a such short notice."

"Voight sounded stressed when he called. Is he alright?" She asked you quietly, matching your footing and walking toward the black SUV next to you.

You shook your head, "This case has been really hard on us is all. It's not every day we have cases like this one."

"Well, our job isn't pretty." She agreed. "Rape cases are already hard on their own."

"But when it's kids…"

"Do you have kids, detective?"

"None that are my own."

"Then I guess you're lucky."

"I suppose so."

***

The drive back to the district wasn't all that comfortable. Benson carried an air of importance around her that would get some rookies sweating with nerves.

Decades in this line of work showed just how good of a match you were for her.

"Hey Trudy," You greeted your friend in passing. Benson was hot on your heels as you lead her upstairs.

Upon reaching your destination you felt her walk straight pass you into Hank's arms. She brushed her hand against the lapels of his jackets when she asked him how he was doing. You felt your chest rise with jealousy but that diminished quickly when you saw him lead her to his office.

"You're not seeing that?"

"Seeing what Jay?"

The younger man narrowed his eyes at you, "She's obviously into him."

You sent him a glare. "We're not kids Jay, we're adults that lived long enough to see what's worthy being petty about and what's not."

"If you say so."

You rolled your eyes, but still went to retrieve your man, nevertheless.

***

You knocked twice before Voight let you in. "Sorry detective, this is a private conversation."

It was Benson who had told you this. You fought an eyebrow that wanted to rise.

"Y/N runs this unit as much as I do," Your boyfriend interfered. "She can stay."

You smiled, that not being able to suppress. "What do you have?"

"A possible location," She told you, still eerie about you being there.

You perked your eyes at that, taking your usual seat in Voight's office. Hank came to stand behind your chair, hands on the back of it. Olivia eyed you quietly and came to retrieve some papers. With her back turned to you both you turned your head, eyes travelling to Voight. Silently, you asked about what was going on. He only shook his head and pressed his hand against your shoulder, rubbing it in comfort.

Olivia saw the interaction and raised her brow.

***

You held your M16 in your hands securely. Officers were bustling all around you, greeting you in passing. The house in front of you looked like a fortress having god knows what protecting it. "We don't go in by force. There are still kids inside."

While the members of your unit nodded in agreement, a few voiced their distaste.

"We go in now. Cut off his ability to retaliate."

"I understand Olivia, but-"

"Sergeant."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm your sergeant. Let's keep it that way."

You gritted your teeth, seemingly offended by the fact that she had used the chain of command to put you in your place.

"My sergeant is Voight. I answer only to him," You corrected her. "I just want those kids to come out of there alive, and that's not going to be possible if we barge in. He'll panic. Kill them instantly."

"Why don't you go in then?" She proposed. "Scope and give us inside information so we can work our way around it. You find the kids and let us do the rest."

You thought about it. "I need –"

"Nothing." Your sergeant appeared by your side, eyes hard and body as still as a rock. Unlike Benson, you could see his anger. You almost reached out to calm him. "You're not doing it."

"This could be our shot." You told him.

He only shook his head, "Trust me it's not. A word, sergeant?"

She nodded and followed him.

You watched as the distance became bigger.

Jay and Adam came to stand next to you, Adam at your right side and Jay at your left.

"Holy hell." Adam muttered.

"She almost got you killed." Jay commented after him.

"Holy hell indeed guys."

***

"Hank I'm trying to do right by these kids!"

"The hell you are," Hank outright yelled at her. As the only person at the scene that had guts to stand up to her, he took the chance to put her in her place. "The way I see it you want Y/N in direct danger with no back up."

She stayed silent.

"You don't get to boss around my unit. Especially not my most trusted detective."

"Oh, come on Hank." She sighed, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"You're here to assist. The case is still mine so don't get ahead of yourself."

And with that, he left her to be.

"We're waiting for him. SWAT is on standby."

You smiled gratefully at him before mouthing a thank you.

***

"You did great today," You complimented him, smiling from ear to ear. All the children that went missing within the last few weeks have been found alive. Wounded yes, but alive. And the man was, much to your satisfaction, shot dead when he tried to run. By none other than yourself. Being able to put down a monster like him brought you satisfaction.

It brought Hank pride too.

He pulled you in by the hip and rested your back against the wall. Chicago was lightly lit up outside, bringing peaceful atmosphere to the district. Your fingers brushed against his rigid jawline; eyes locked with his.

Kisses between you two were shared ever so often at work. While you would both usually leave to the privacy of your home, today was a day you both needed reassurances immediately.

Your lips were pressed together and moving in a way possible for only people with experience.

When someone opened the door without knocking, you pushed him away in fright. Hank didn't even stumble as he narrowed his eyes at the person who had intruded.

"Sergeant Benson?!" You shrieked, cheeks flushing a bright red.

"It all makes sense now." She mused.

MASTERLIST

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Still recovering from the injuries when they rescued Samantha and Maxine, Soap and France er- John and Francine sits out on the next mission and enjoys a little rest and recreation. Comfy right?

Chapter 8 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : Alex - Just Like Old Times

"Experiment 001"

John 'Soap' MacTavish

Task Force 141 - Off Duty

London, United Kingdom

John barely passed the Physical Test and he was excited that he made it just in time with their next mission. But what he didn't expect was that he was already too late to tag along. They were headed to an Augustus base from a lead they got from Alex, who actually convinced the whole local militia to join his cause. He noted not to underestimate him despite the lack of limbs as that was his specialty back in the CIA.

Now, with enough time and approved Rest and Recreation, he can't believe they're driving to London. He didn't know how it happened but a few nudges and teases from France and they were actually driving his trusty jeep on their way to a local coffee shop she wanted to visit.

"You seem happy for someone who sits out in a fight." Soap commented as France's hair blew softly as the jeep sped across the empty highway.

"Well, I can't force myself out there, might as well enjoy the little freedom from the gunfire and chaos." she cheered, raising her hands openly like a tourist or someone from a music video. Soap rolled his eyes toward her behavior but when he thinks of it, he might use some relaxation himself.

"So, we're really driving to London for coffee? We could've just brewed some back at the base, you know?" he informed, eyes turning to the road. 

"Oh come on Soap! Live a little! It's the relaxing background I'm looking for, the one that yells "Rest up Francine and shoot tangos later!"" she teased, Soap was still not convinced about this, he's all too focused on work, living up to the 'elite' part of the task force.

Soap continued driving and couldn't help but momentarily turn to her, how she shook her head when her hair got in the way, how she giggled at the bumps on the road and how she badgered him with a lot of questions. All of those things he seemed to like. She even told him to slow down so she could take pictures of the view and show them to Maxine when she finally remembers her, along with a few selfies with Soap.

~

"So, Soap, this is your vacation? On your phone with a cup of coffee?" France crossed her arms as she sat in front of Soap. The Scottish looked at him, brows raised.

"Don't call me Soap out here. And I'm actually checking German news channels." he informed while not batting an eye on her.

"Really, what should I call you then, Dove?" She joked, while Soap remained unamused.

"John." he muttered.

"Really?! You don't really look like a John. Maybe... a James.. James MacTavish? Sounds better." she mused as she looked at the problematic mohawk man as he keeped raising his phone looking for a signal.

"Hey check your phone. Do you have reception or something?" Soap finally looked at her and turned to the direction she's looking at. A young woman was raising her phone just outside the cafe.

"What is she doing?" France pointed out and Soap was rendered speechless. Moments later the phone exploded into an EMP blast shattering the café windows causing the two to cover under the tables.

"Shite." John muttered and looked at France who was inches near him. France's hands were covering her ears as the ringing continued.

"Come on! Let's leave here before our ears bleed!" Soap roared, enduring the pain of the ringing as he pulled France to safety. People scattered around looking for a spot to stay which was just a few yards away from the phone. Everyone stood still and murmured as the person holding the phone crippled in pain from the said blast.

Francine forced herself off of John's strong grip and winced as she reached the blast zone, enduring the mental pain as she tried to rescue her. John took a while before he helped her up as his ears started to bleed from the ringing. Halfway through safety the phone exploded and the screeching stopped.

911 immediately responded assisting the three of them as well as those who suffered from injuries because of the blast. While being tended from behind the ambulance, a tall red-headed lady with a slick leather jacket introduced herself to them, flashing her INTERPOL badge.

"Hi. I'm sorry you got caught on the crossfire." she apologized, her tone was strict yet calming.

"Aye. It's alright ma'am. We're kinda used to it." John chuckled and Francine nodded. 

"This is kind of my case. Can I ask you for details surrounding the event that just happened?" she blindly fished her notebook and pen from her back pocket and the duo honestly told their story.

"Oh. Thank you very much. um Mr and Mrs…?"

the two of them looked at each other.

"Oh no no no. You've got it all wrong maam!" Francine quickly interrupted.

"Aye. There's no way I'd ask this woman out." John added causing them to argue and bicker like old people.

"Okay Okay. I'll address this differently. You two don't have to fight, okay?" she scolded as she answered her already ringing phone.

~

The sun was already setting when they drove back to the base. The ride was cold and quiet and the two of them didn't say a word after they bickered back at the city. Soap momentarily checks in on her while driving but France just crossed her arms and blasted music through her earphones.

John tried to talk to her about it but he hesitated, her body language was enough to tell him that she didn't need any bothering from him today, or maybe ever. So instead of saying words, he quickly turned to a small path just before the Base's entrance and drove seriously.

"Hey hey hey Mister, where are you bringing me?!" She motioned to eject herself from the car by detaching herself from the seatbelts.

"Oi Oi! Calm down. I just thought you needed a breather." he hit the brakes. They were at a small elevated area just below the river that ran behind their base. Francine slowly calmed herself down enjoying the beautiful view as John exited his jeep and walked to a tree stump.

He sat down and faced the river, the moon illuminated his hair and half of his face while France slowly descended from her seat and looked at his blue eye glow as the moonlight hit his face. 

"Cigars aren't allowed at the base. And we're still technically outside." he winked and offered her a light, a sneaky smirk escaped from his perfectly shaped mouth. 

Francine gulped.

"I don't smoke. Thanks." she gestured a no at the Scot and slowly walked toward him as soon as he turned back.

"Mmhmm.. Suit yourself." he teased as he huffed the cigar and released smoke from his mouth, pouting his lips and looked up at the sky. Francine fell quiet, but she could hear her heart thumping, telling her to say the words she wanted to say the moment they met. But she hesitated, there's no time for admiration in the middle of war. She inhaled deeply and sighed.

"This view looks spectacular." she mused, John just chuckled and puffed another breath of smoke.

"What's with you women and beautiful landscapes? Sometimes I don't get it. Like, it's just water and the sky." he complained. Francine smiled telling herself that it's a different view she was referring to. 

'The spectacular view I'm referring to is you, John MacTavish.' she smiled and told herself.

Task Force 141 Base - Lobby

Soap and France just got back inside the base and Shepherd was already looking for them. Word has it that their involvement from events that occurred earlier today alerted the General and called them into briefing.

"Agent Ryder, I believe you've already acquainted yourself with these two members of the force?" Shepherd introduced.

"Yes. It's Mr. MacTavish and Ms. Winters." the redhead nodded to them as a greeting.

"Good." The general seated himself and let the Agent begin talking.

"The case earlier was that of a Jane Doe, an American who used her phone to create a long lasting EMP blast capable of destroying nearby signal receptors at a set range. Coincidentally, one of your members also reported a bigger machine capable of doing bigger blasts back in Germany. While this may be purely coincidental, the interpol assigned me to further investigate this phenomenon as part of my job as Anti-Terror Weapon Division." she briefed, Shepherd had already talked to his higher ups and they already assigned her as part of a joint operation. 

"Furthermore, Our team wants to quickly eradicate traces of such weapons in order to restore peace and order across Europe." she added. Soap nodded in agreement, he was one of the few ones who witnessed the weapon's power and would like to take part in destroying such machinery. 

"Well Ms. Ryder. We have already discussed this. Welcome to the 141. These two will escort you around, make sure you feel comfortable and well fed with all the data you need." he muttered and shook hands with her. She nodded and thanked him as Soap and France gave her a quick tour of the base.

The tour consisted of mostly France talking, she actually got close with Agent Ryder quickly, and Soap was just there following like a dog. And he hates dogs.

"It's good to have someone like you in a place full of men. It eases off the pressure." the Agent thanked her as they dropped her off her quarters. France smiled and held her hand.

"Don't worry. These men may look tough, but then you get to know them, they're actually sweeter than us. Right, Soap?" she turned to him. 

"What are you talking about?" he easily dismissed rolling his eyes, looking everywhere but their direction.

"See?!" France giggled and Agent Ryder laughed along.

"It's a pleasure to be part of this team. Call me Alexandra. Alexandra Ryder." She said.

"Welcome to the 141, Alexandra." France shook hers and smiled. It may feel like a simple handshake but Soap felt that it was going to be an alliance that's going to last for a long time.

Next Chapter : A surPRICE Visit

Notification Squad, my beloved

@samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @enderio @whimsywispsblog @ricinbach @beemybee

[thewidowsghost]

The Sky’s Tsunami - Chapter 13

3rd Person POV

A few hours later, the Bus lands at the Slingshot. By this point, Natasha was back to her normal self, teasing (Y/n).

The two sisters walk down the spiral staircase, Natasha walking over, sitting at the end of hangar doors her back leaning against one of the walls.

"Hey Coulson, how's LOLA?" (Y/n) asks.

"Not a scratch," Coulson answers.

"How she should be," (Y/n) says with a smile.

Skye descends the spiral staircase and walks up behind (Y/n) and Coulson.

"Not a scratch," Skye says, making (Y/n) jump a little. Skye smiles apologetically before continuing. "But you're plane's totaled. I hope SHIELD insurance covers hijackings."

"Of course, under accidentals," (Y/n) says with a grin.

Skye chuckles lightly, crossing her arms. "What exactly am I signing up for?"

(Y/n) laughs, her (E/c) eyes sparkling and Natasha looks back, smiling at her sister.

"So far, the craziest show on Earth," (Y/n) says.

"Yeah, well, I didn't think it'd get this crazy, this fast," Skye reasons, "all for an object you're just gonna destroy."

"Slingshot is protocol," Coulson tells Skye.

"A weapon like the 0-8-4 is too dangerous for any person or country to have," (Y/n) continues. "People like Reyes would always be after it."

"What happened with Reyes, anyway?" Skye asks and (Y/n) raises a ginger eyebrow.

"She's being held at a SHIELD detainment facility," Coulson tells Skye. "I expect the Peruvian government will negotiate for her release. She probably won't spend much time in jail."

"No, I mean what happened with you and Reyes?" Skye asks. "You totally did it back in the day, right?"

(Y/n) chokes back a laugh as Coulson replies, "That's classified."

Skye laughs as Coulson walks away.

"We blew up a plane," Fitz says as he walks down the stairs with a cooler of beer. He holds out the cooler and (Y/n) takes a beer out and goes to sit beside Natasha. (Y/n) hands the beer to her sister and Natasha takes it with a smile.

"Hey, come on," Fitz says, sitting down in the middle of the doors, Simmons taking up a place beside him. "So, it'll take about a hundred and eighty days to reach the Sun. Of course, if they'd used hydrogen-fueled APUs, but they're having fun."

"How man of those have you guys had?" Skye asks as Ward and May sit down on either side of FitzSimmons, taking a beer from the cooler.

Simmons laughs, "Skye, it's important when in the field to unwind from time to time."

"Yeah, yeah, especially after a hard day of everyone almost dying," Fitz pipes up.

"Which doesn't happen every day, right?" Simmons asks and the Romanoff sisters exchange looks. "It''s an anomaly - an irregularity."

(Y/n) and May meet gazes and May smirks at the former assassin.

"Not . . . the norm," Simmons says.

"Speaking of 'not the norm,' whose idea was it to blow a hole in the plane?" Coulson says and (Y/n) glances around before speaking.

"I said that the door -" (Y/n) begins, but Skye interupts her.

"May and (Y/n) said that the doors were tied to the pressurization, so I thought -"

"So we," Simmons emphasizes the word we, "thought it was the only way to release them."

"It was everyone's idea, sir," Ward says and May nods.

"Yes," Fitz adds. "Quite genius, really."

"Nice work," Coulson says and (Y/n)'s eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Fury's not gonna like this," (Y/n) says and Natasha nods. "I can't believe it took us six days to blow a hole in the side of this plane."

"Oh, time for blastoff," Fitz says and everyone looks at the rocket. Fitz pinches his nose, "Launching . . . In three . . . Two . . . One."

The rocket blasts off and (Y/n) leans into her sister and Natasha nudges her affectionately in return.

"The trajectory will take it beyond the Lagrange point so that it doesn't hit Herschel."

"And there haven't been any coronal mass injections, so it shouldn't lose telemetry."

"Guys," Ward tells FitzSimmons. "English."

"Really, Rushman? Really, Coulson?" Fury asks Coulson, (Y/n) standing to the left of the agent. "Six days? It only took you six days to take a completely renovated piece of state-of-the-art machinery and turn it into scrap?!"

"Our team acted with our authority," Coulson says and (Y/n) nods in agreement.

"Don't talk to me about authority," Fury says softly, his voice seething with anger. "Do you know how much this plane cost? It's got a bar." Fury walks over to the said bar, placing his hands on it. "A really nice one. You talking to me about authority. You know, I have the authority to downgrade your asses to a Winnebago."

"We're aware of that, sir," (Y/n) says, meeting Fury's gaze steadily with her own.

"Well, I want it fixed just like you found it," Fury says. "So don't have FitzSimmons going making modifications, like, like a damn fish tank." He turns to (Y/n) now. "Send your sister to me. I know she's here."

(Y/n) nods and jogs downstairs where she finds Natasha and Skye talking.

"Tasha?" (Y/n) says as she steps off the final step.

Natasha looks over and hums in response.

"Big Boss Man wants to see you," (Y/n) says and Natasha nods. She says good-bye to Skye and retreats upstairs. "Oh, FitzSimmons!" (Y/n) says and both scientists stick their heads out the lab doors. "We're gonna have to kill the fish tank."

Fitz pouts and Simmons nods dejectedly.

Word Count: 943 words

Taglist:

@rail-me-romanoff​​

@theofficialzivadavid

[martin-ftw]

New Hollow Knight Story!

My first long story and first written piece about Hollow Knight!

This one is inspired from an ask from @arty-cakes and all their art in general,

as well as many others in the community, including @scribbleshanks , @fly-sky-high-hollow-knight , @payasita​ , @soft-quirrel , @chipper-smol, @mipexch and many many many other fantastic artists that would simply take too long to list out. Just wanted to thank these amazing people before I start. ^^

PS: Unsure what title to give, I'm just gonna use a cliché one until someone gives me a better one lmao

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The adventure

"Bury the knight with her broken nail, bury the... pri.. priest?"

"In his tattered gown, Myla"

"Oh, right, right, thanks Clothy"

Chapter 1: Myla and Cloth

The two of them walk out of the mines to the orange, blindingly bright crossroads. Myla sits on top of Cloth, drowsily holding a pickaxe while Cloth is in a combat-ready position, holding out her weapon and traversing through the crossroads.

"This place gives me the creeps, the mines are much more peaceful, I hate orange" said Myla, in a resentful tone.

"Its dangerous around here, we should get up as fast as we can" said Cloth in reassurance.

"I'd throw my pickaxe at them if it wasn't for the blunted head from all the mining" replied Myla, joyfully.

With chuckles and giggles, they ascend the platforms and up the well to Dirtmouth

"Oho, what brings you two up here?" Elderbug, surprised

"Nothing much, we came to see Hornet! Myla's a little sick so we was wanted to check her out and make sure she's fine" replied Cloth as Myla climbs down her club carefully.

"Ah I see, I'm sure she'll be fine! Hornet's in sly's shop, they're probably training with the knight, would like to sit for a while?"

"Hmm sure we ca-"

As Cloth accepted the offer, a loud "-SHAW!" is heard from Sly's basement

Myla, intrigued, "But I wanna see what they're doing! Can we go watch?"

"If you say so, Myla, --Elderbug you wanna come with?" said Cloth, bringing Myla up her head.

"I'm fine, combat's not my cup of tea. You two have fun down there!"

And like that, they wave their goodbyes and part their ways, with the Cloth duo going into Sly's shop.

Chapter 2: The action

Myla and Cloth cheerily descend to the basement, loud metal clangs can be heard even outside the shop

"You're agitated today arent you, little ghost" said Hornet, panting in a parry pose.

The knight shrugged and signed the words "I guess", learning the lesson of not attacking during enemy parries.

As the knight charges up their nail art, Hornet breaks out of parry and uses a spike attack, suspending string-spike balls in the arena. The knight releases a powerful cyclone slash, the one they just learned from Mato, slashing the spiky balls into the corner of the room

Myla let out a "Woah" as the knight approaches Hornet, preparing a dash slash.

*Clang*

The nail hitting was so loud it could be heard from deepnest. Startled by the sound, Cloth hugged Myla closely and they closed their eyes from reflex.

Opening their eyes, Sly is seen in between the knight and hornet, with his nail stopping knight's nail from hitting Hornet. How did he get there so fast?

"Good job knight, nice timing on the art." commented Sly, satisfied.

"Hey that's no fair, you already beat me twice!" exclaimed Hornet, exhausted.

The knight lower their nail, and notice the Myla duo standing next to the ladder.

"Hi", waved the knight, the easiest sign language they know that even Myla would understand.

Hornet sits down and turns her head over, while Sly walks toward the Clyla duo.

"That was awesome!" said Cloth, thrilled.

The ghost smiled, signing "Thanks" to the duo as Myla jumps up and down excitedly.

Regaining her strength in mere seconds, Hornet stands up and swings over, "It'd be better if I won, ghost is way too strong. -What are you two doing here?"

"Ah, right, Myla is a little sick, she's experiencing some memory lost and drowsiness" Cloth says, as Myla eagerly touches the knight's upgraded Coiled nail, intrigued as always.

"I think the infection is creeping into the mines, we should give her some treatment" said Hornet, concerned.

With that, Sly clears off the floor of dust and spikes and the 5 of them ascend the ladder.

Chapter 3:

Chapter 3.1: Lifeblood

The 5 of them come out of the shop to meet Elderbug, the cool dude.

"Oho we got quite the party here, you guys heading down?" said Elderbug joyfully, holding a flower in his hands.

"Yeah, we're gonna give the Mantis bros a visit, Myla needs some lifeblood, she's a little sick." replied Hornet, causally.

"Oh I hope you're well little guy," Elderbug said to Myla, patting Myla's head as she delicately touches the petals of the flower, "Safe journey down there you guys, the crossroads give a stink."

"Thanks Elderbug, we'll be careful. Sly would you like to come with us?"

"Uhh, sure thing! It's been a while since I've visited my buddies", said Sly.

With that, they descend the well into the crossroads.

Chapter 3.2: Mantis village

"Myla, are you okay? Is it the mushrooms or the acid?" Cloth said while the knight looks up in concern.

"No no, I'm fine, just a little sleepy" Myla yawned, adjusting her sit.

"Take a nap then little guy, we'll be there in no time" said Cloth and Hornet, almost in unison

They chuckled, entering the mantis village.

A mantis warrior bows upon seeing the knight, welcoming their entry, the knight politely bows back.

They travel through the village and gets to the bottom of the village, where they meet the Mantis lords. They stand up and bow while the 5 travellers bow back.

"It's been a while, what brings you lots here?", said the tallest mantis.

"If we could, we are here to take some Lifeblood, Myla is a little ill" said Hornet while the knight looks at the sleeping Myla on top of Cloth.

Due to the lack of care, most lifeblood cocoons in Hallownest have died down, remaining only 2 active and reproducing cocoons: The one in Mantis village surviving due to the care from the Mantis tribe; and a man-made cocoon Joni's repose, an artificial breeding center made by the knight with the power of both Joni's blessing and lifeblood core.

"Ah why of course, we wish the little one well!"

As the knight carried Myla and climbed up the wall to the lifeblood cocoon, Hornet proceeded to chat with the Mantis lords.

"How's the deepnest going? Still giving you guys trouble?"

"Ah though there are occasional intruders, they seem to have calmed down after..." She paused, "after your mother ascended" continued the other Mantis lord

"Its okay, I'm over it, the knight gotta do their mission afterall." sighed Hornet.

"Is the little one getting infected? Is she okay?" said the tallest Mantis, shifting the center of attention to alleviate the atmosphere

"Oh, yes, the infection from crossroads are creeping into the mines and Myla is mildly affected. I'm sure she'll be fine with us around" said Cloth, optimistically.

"The crossroads are infected? Since when?" exclaimed one of the lords.

The knight, standing on the ledge of the Lifeblood cocoon, turned down and signed "Dreamers"

"I see, though with the temple being in the center, it's no wonder the place gets flooded. Please wish Elderbug well for us when you return to Dirtmouth."

"Will do!" said Cloth and the knight nodded in agreement.

Time passes while the party chats with the Mantis Lords, especially Sly as he's a newcomer to the village.

"You guys doing good up there?" said Cloth, "Need our help?"

The knight gives them a thumbs-up as they carefully cutopen the Lifeblood seed with their nail, feeding the Lifeblood to Myla.

"She looks sleepy," commented by one of the Mantis, "Does she need a place to sleep? We have a bench in our village protected by one of our senior warriors."

As she says this, the knight waves their tiny hands, holding Myla's pickaxe on one hand and pointing to the blunt unsharpened edges on her pickaxe with the other.

"How observant, little ghost, you want to find the Nailsmith?" Replied Hornet.

Decide the future of the story

Route 4a: All 5 members to Nailsmith

Route 4b: Myla+Cloth rest at Mantis village, Sly+Hornet+Knight to Nailsmith

Route 4c: Myla+Knight rest at Mantis village, Sly+Hornet+Cloth to Nailsmith

Click here to vote for the future! 

I have ideas for all 3 scenarios so just choose to your heart :D

Thanks again to the amazing hollow knight community producing many beautiful art and intriguing fanfic/AUs, curious to see which route wins :D

Edit 1: Spelling mistakes + pronouns

[nyeonisparks]

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST PT. 2

The grip on my throat was firm, breathing seemed out of the question. For once in my life, I was thankful for my uncanny strength. My hands instinctively clenched together, my body shifted on its own, I took a swing with enough intensity to at least get the man off of me. Blood gushed from my adversary. He covered his nose, his smirk never faltering. "You caught me off guard, normal people would instinctively grab their foes wrist, in hopes of them letting go."

"uck," I choked on my words, trying to breathe again. I staggered over to him, clearing my throat. He tilted his head to the side, glancing at me.

"Now, I'm gonna kick your smarmy little ass!" Stepping forward, I swung at him; however, he dogged my attack with incredible speed.

"And why do I need my ass kicked? You were the one who came into my home," He was right, I loathe violence, yet here I am, using it on someone who was just defending their own space. "Hehe, and you said I was the monster, but look at you, hurting an innocent man" no, he's wrong, I was defending myself, he was at my throat.

His eyes looked at me in a way no village had. There was no anger, no hate, no fear. For someone that had just gotten their nose punched in, he didn't seem too frightened of me. "Look, I'm sorry for intruding, I was just trying to escape the storm, and I'm also sorry for calling you a monster," I know how much it hurts to be called a monster too. He didn't say anything, it was almost like he had lost all interest in me. "Is your nose okay?" Even though I didn't start the fight, I felt guilty.

"I'm fine, you can leave now" His tone was bitter, he had turned his back on me,

"Sorry to be a bother but, I have no place to go," I had to swallow my pride and think rationally.

"That's not my problem," anger arose in me, but I held it back.

"Please, can you help me" He looked over his shoulder at me, his nose bleeding at the bridge, my knuckles had scraped off the skin. I felt judged by his eyes. He turned to face me again, walking closer, I was on guard this time, no way was I gonna fall for the same trick twice.

"Beg"

"Excuse me, I don't think I heard you right" I hope to god I didn't hear him right.

"Get on your knees, and beg," His voice was rigid, yet he wore a smile.

"No way in hell am I doing that!"

"Then leave, get eaten by wolves, starve to death for all I care," He shrugged his shoulders. I knew if worse came to worse, I could always go back to the village; however, I had abandoned my friends, I wouldn't be able to face them again, I would be too ashamed. I knelt down,

"Please... Please let me stay," I looked up for his approval. He seemed pleased.

"Good boy" It was faint, but I heard him loud and clear before I could protest, he spoke, "You can stay for the night."

"For tonight!" I shouted, "I have nowhere to go, what am I supposed to do tomorrow!?" He laughed

"Beg again," a low growl escaped me. Of course, the one place I stumbled upon had a sadist living in it with horns and goat feet, who is so kind as to let me stay one night, after begging. What is he, the devil's spawn? Or is he the devil himself?

"I'm Heiwajima Shizuo, I used to live in a village not far from here."

"What caused you to be thrown onto my doorstep?" the man asked.

I sighed,

"I have unnatural strength, when I was younger, I ran around destroying anything that pissed me off or using it to fight anyone who pissed me off" I inhaled deeply before I continued, letting my nerves cool down. "Then I met Tom-san, he was always so kind to me, he helped me pick up some tricks to calm me down, although he would get bullied by the other kids, so I beat them up. Now that we're older, it seems like all the villagers hate Tom just for being around me, I can't be a burden to him any longer." The man nodded along.

"So, you want to become my burden instead?"

"WHY ARE YOU SUCH AN ASSHOLE!!" He shrugged

"I'm Orihara Izaya," His Arm stretched out, claws emerging like daggers.

"Oh, uh, nice to meet you" Izaya cupped my hand with both of his,

"Will you join me for dinner, I want to hear more about this power of yours" He tilted his hand with a smile. I

Nodded,

Izaya pointed up the stairs, I turned towards the direction. "There is a room on the left, have Saki take you there, I have work to do."

"Work, what kind o-"when I turned to face him, he was already gone.

I trudged up the long staircase, Izaya had descended from. His candelabra sat on the thick corner of the railing. I grasped the light source in my hand

"Ahh, not so hard!" it screeched, startling me. I looked more closely at the candelabra; the design was a girl holding the candles. "Your grip is too tight," she said.

"Oh, sorry," I loosen my hand a bit, "Is that better?"

"Yes, thank you, I'm Saki, by the way," So this was what Saki Izaya had mentioned. I introduced myself and asked about a room Izaya had told me about. Saki was happy to guide me down the dark hallway. With Saki by my side, the darkness shewed away.

"Do you know why the mirrors are smashed?" I asked,

"I can't say for sure," she smiled, but her eyes clouded with sadness. "Izaya-san must be happy you're here."

"Tsk, I don't think so, he told me I can only stay for tonight," Saki giggled, but didn't say anything else. "Why do you think he's happy I'm here?"

"He's lonely," She said,

At the end of the hallway stood a large wooden door, elegant designs were carved so nicely into the wood. A silver handle was dusted over. I opened the door, stepping into the room. A bed layout in front of me. It looked so cozy, and I was so tired. Even though I wanted to give in to sleep, I couldn't. Izaya had invited me for dinner, I didn't give a verbal response, but I had nodded in agreement.

"Dinner won't be ready for a while," Saki informed me.

"What am I supposed to do until then?"

"Read something, that's what I see Izaya-san do all the time."

"I don't know how... to read," I felt embarrassed, my face flushed, and I set Saki down on a nightstand.

"That's okay, Izaya-san can teach you" The thought of that left a bad taste in my mouth. There just is something off with this guy. I don't like him. I laid down in the bed, letting my limbs seek into the plush. Saki watched me from the nightstand. What am I supposed to do? I feel so trapped. Some time had passed, Saki told me to get changed into something more presentable for dinner. I did as I was told, in the room stood a wardrobe. I quickly changed, discarding my old rags for soft silks—a white button-down, with a black and red vest, and complementary slacks. Saki escorted me to the Dinner room. But it was more like me accompanying her as she told me directions. I was guided into a well-lit room, with a full dining table filled with food. Izaya sat at the head of the table. I seated myself beside him, setting Saki down on the table, Izaya glanced at her, and she did her best nod, then descended from the table with the help of a chair. Now it was just Izaya and me alone.

I served myself a plate of food and started eating, I didn't notice how starved I was. Izaya watched me scarf down my meal, not even touching his.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I asked

"I much rather watch you" Tremors ran down my spine, I shivered at these words. Why was this guy so weird? His claws tapped in a rhythm on the tabletop. I watched them intently, they looked trimmed and clean. "Do you like them?" His voice caught me off guard, and I quickly turned away.

"oh, uh, sorry, I didn't notice.." I trailed off, facing my attention towards him as he pulled on my hand,

"You can touch them if you want," he said. I took his hand into my own. Rubbing my thumb over his smooth nails. Their deep black color didn't stop at the nail, the darkness traveled till the bend of his fingers. As I kept looking, I noticed feathers prickled out at his wrist. His long sleeves encased the rest of his arm, but my curiosity made me long to see how far up his arm the feathers ran.

"They're pretty," I admitted. Izaya's beaming smile wasn't unusual, but what surprised me was when he rose from his chair and gripped the back of mine. "You know..." he lifted my chin up, enticing me with his somber eyes. "You're not so bad yourself," he purred, he was so close to me. My cheeks heated and I looked away,

"W-what are you doing" my voice was uneasy. Suddenly Tom's words came flooding back to me,

"until he became aware of his selfishness."

"Do you think I'm a fool.." my attention shifted to my lap, blonde lockes covering my heated face. I could feel him trying to tilt my head back towards him. Even though he’d lose this battle. He hummed "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me, I get it now, why you let me stay, why you had me come to dinner, and why you're trying to kiss me… you think the curse will be lifted by a kiss? You really are selfish" The air went stiff. Pulling away he hissed out,

"How predictable," bearing a pained expression, eyes glaring into me, it was clear that my predictions were right, he only gave me the option of staying here so he could use me to break his curse. He couldn't defend his actions from the truth. "Why did you have to come here, did she bring you here out of spite?" I could hear the gritting out his teeth,

"What? Who are you talking about?"

"The fairy" I watched him dip his claws into his wine glass, his features faded back into his smug smirk. A swift motion of his hand that had been dipped into the wine sliced at my chest, I was quick to back up, my chair getting knocked over in the process; however it had already been too late, a wound started spewing blood from my chest. "Now, you will be staying here with me," I was frozen. "Did you think I came unprepared? Obviously, there was a chance you would figure out my plan, it wasn't a very elaborate one" He snickered, "So I had a backup, what was in my glass wasn't wine, it was poison, I had one of my servants make it for me. It’s a slow working poison, so it won’t become deadly for about a week or two."

"What the hell!" I shouted

"Don't worry, there's an antidote, but you’ll only get it if you help lift the curse. However, if you don't lift it in time, you will end up like the rest of the unfortunate,in a ditch, dead." He cackled out, "Isn't this fun?"

"I shouldn’t have left the village” The realization hitting me too late, I had let myself get poisoned.

This wasn’t my original idea, I was inspired by a post @shizaya-incorrectquotes reposted. I’m pretty sure the creator of this writing prompt was @whowhatmeow

[minhyunluvr]

look | strife

"A test of our quirks?!" The class mumbled various thoughts on the subject, one about the entrance ceremony and guidance sessions that would be missed.

"If you also want to be a hero, you will need to sacrifice things that are generally a waste of time." Aizawa clipped in the direction of the voice. "Professionalism is crucial." A ball hit your chest. He pointed to a white circle drawn in the dirt, gesturing for you to stand there instead. "How far could you throw in middle school, Miss Choi?"

"One, '(Y/n)', and two, I was home schooled." You replied, getting into a throwing stance.

"Noted. Go ahead and throw it using your quirk, but don't leave the circle."

Taking in a deep breath, you shook your head in acknowledgement. You turned around to Kaminari, latched your quirk onto him and waited for him to begin blinking, as strong emotions—usually melancholic—wash over the target of your quirk as it takes affect. As he executed the tell-tale action, you closed both hands over the ball, holding your throwing arm back. It flew forward at high speed, starting its descend about forty meters ahead. Taking one last glance at Kaminari, you formed a golden retriever. Kaminari began to yell about seeing a dog appear out of thin air and point as it leaped into the air, snatching the ball and running toward the horizon. More of the students gawked at the canine as it became universally visible, some calling it cute. The dog clicked out of existence once you felt like your score was good enough. Aizawa gave a pointed look at your form before going over your results.

"234.1 meters. That's impressive for someone with a quirk like yours. I guess creativity is important. This country's education system insists on prohibiting the use of quirks while taking averages on children's physical skill. It's not rational, as we should not be belittled to our old form. But since this is a hero school, you are permitted to use your quirks. I'm sure that Miss (Y/n)'s score would not be in the 200's without the usage of her quirk, so there is a large difference between the abilities of our ancestors and the ones of our own."

Students threw in words of excitement, resulting in a dark look forming on Aizawa's face. "'Fun?' Do you really think you will pass the three years of school here if you view this as a game? You won't. By the way, the person with the lowest score at the end of this will be expelled. No exceptions."

"Third place..." You sighed, slightly disappointed. "At least it was two recommendeds who beat me." Denki and Iida rushed over, bombarding you with questions about your quirk.

Your eyes closed in annoyance, another sigh dejectedly leaving your lips. "My quirk won't be as effective if I give you the details... My score relied primarily on physical skill this time around, but that's all I'll disclose."

Iida chuckled, "You say that like it's a confidential criminal case."

"Wait, what the fuck?" The spiky blonde shuffled over after gaining enough information from eavesdropping on the conversation. His noise level attracted other people to the conversation, and a small crowd formed around the four of you. "How the everloving hell did you beat me again, but this time without even using your quirk?"

"My physical ability is probably superior to yours. Use your brain, dumbass." You looked up at him with a blank facial expression, examining his reaction. He genuinely came off like a villain rather than a hero, and it was entirely possible that he could change sides at any given opportunity. Viewing him as an opponent could help if that ended up being the case, so studying his body language and attack sequences was essential, given how powerful his quirk was.

"You damn bitch...." He removed his hands from his pockets and cracked his knuckles, aiming his palms at your feet. 'Mediocre...' You thought, skipping out of his fire zone. Right as the first explosion went off, you focused your quirk on Iida. A box formed around Bakugou, and a small gasp slipped through Iida's mouth. It soon became visible to everyone else, and a machine pushed it up a few feet from underneath.

"What the fuck did you just do, bitch!?!" He yelled from the sky, voice weak. Another explosion was sent through an air hole you had created, but it missed you, almost hitting Kaminari.

"That is enough. (Y/n), I disabled his quirk, so if you would please release him." Aizawa walked into the circle of students, eyes gleaming. Blinking a bit from the glare of the sun, you slowly brought his box down to the ground and obliterated it from existence. Bakugou's eyes would have torn razors through your skin if it was possible. Well, there probably was someone with a quirk that could do that, but he couldn't, so you get the point.

What he could do, though, was rush at you with the force of an overly-active 15-year-old boy. Soon enough, you were pinned under him on the ground, him yelling obscenities into your face. As his warm spittle flew onto your skin, the side of your mouth began to twitch. Your knee flew up and made contact with his groin. A throaty gurgle cut his cursing short and his hands weakened their grip on your wrists. Letting out a quick sigh, you moved your knee further into his right leg as to move him onto his back. You hovered over him and shifted one of your knees onto his stomach while you felt around for a pressure point that would knock him out.

You hadn't noticed how quiet the field had gotten until your classmates began to cheer. 'Is that really necessary...?' Iida and Kaminari rushed over and dragged you back to the group, both giving you high fives. Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temple as he moved to check on Bakugou. The other students crowded around you, asking various questions. One girl with black hair stood off to the side, confliction evident on her features.

"Yo, you butchered him." A male individual with red hair exclaimed, walking to the front of the circle.

"Yeah, (Y/n)! When will he wake up?" Kaminari agreed with the red head, a perky grin complimenting his features.

"How overpowered can you be?" Another student sighed.

"It usually takes about three minutes, but he seemed worn out before he decided to pounce on me, so it might take ten, at most." You rolled your eyes at the memory, a migraine taking form.

"He seemed pretty lively to me..." A short boy with green and black hair pouted, worriedly glancing over at the blonde, all the while clutching his broken finger. Aizawa was hovered over Bakugou, tenderly checking his pulse.

The familiar heterochromatic male who stood in the back nodded in agreement, catching the attention of quite a few—primarily female—students. His eyes closed in slight annoyance, arms crossing against his torso. His presence seemed salient, which was probably why so many students noticed his movement. Even though the classes' attention had turned to him, he didn't say a word. You blinked rapidly as your eyes randomly began to water, head shaking slightly. There was something achingly nostalgic about him, but your mind couldn't reach it.

Aizawa cut in, walking toward the group. "I believe that we're done here for today. Please return to the classroom. (Y/n), see me in the teacher's lounge. We have a few things to discuss."

[m.list]

[blackarmyslave]

Masquerade [IkeRev]

Pairing: Ray Blackwell x Alice

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution

Notes: really trashy writing oof

Pshh dont act so suprised its another ray thing

Alice hated masquerade balls.

She hated them with a passion. There was just something irritating about them... how those disgustings pigs, commonly referred to as men, often tried to lure her into bed; or how, every time she talked to women, their conversations would almost always end up in gossips about her family's riches that were acquired with bloody hands, and how they killed countless people under a single man's orders, not knowing the person they were talking to about it is part of said family. Yet despite her loathing for occasions like these, Alice would still have to attend, for it was the only way she could fraternize with others. Her family was shunned by society for being such a hideous and brutal one. But here, in masquerade balls, she can wear a mask and pretend to be someone else and mingle to her heart's content. Nobody would know it was a girl from a bloody household.

Once or twice, Alice had danced with a few nobilities she considered decent enough for her. Those who weren't pedophiles, she conversed with. Those who were purely sober, she'd bonded with. But it was way past midnight now and she had gotten bored of the ball. A woman can only take so much soulless dancing and meaningless political talks. Not to mention the rough mask that hid her face from bashers, was starting to irritate her sensitive porcelain skin.

With a forced smile, the young descendant of the country's most infamous household excused herself from the festivities and went to the garden. Truly, it was a beautiful garden. The flowers were in full bloom and the breeze was refreshing. Alice stretched, in a way that was very undignified. Yet she couldn't care less. Her muscles were sore from keeping up a flawlessly upright posture all this time, and she was bored beyond measure.

The itch on her face that was long there reached its peak, and Alice couldn't take it anymore. She moved to dispose her mask until a voice warned her, "It's rude to take off your mask in a ball like this."

It was a man's voice, smooth like the waves and light as the garden's breeze. Undoubtedly, it had belonged to a young man... a cool young man. But Alice despised people who dared talk to her so fondly. She swirled around to reprimand whoever it had been.

"I don't recall holding responsibility to oblige," she retorted, her prissy tone leaking with every syllable. One corner of the man's lips slowly curled upwards in an amused smirk.

"Then by all means, go embarrass yourself."

Alice scoffed with irritation. Who does this man think he is? Yes, it's true that taking off your mask is a big no in a masquerade ball, but--

Oh.

She suddenly felt like smacking her forehead. If she takes the accessory off, she's to reveal her identity. And no doubt receive countless ridicules. And Alice didn't want that, especially from a man like him. Her cheeks flushed in realization. Suddenly the girl wanted to keep it on and couldn't feel the itch anymore.

"You're from the infamous Bright household, aren't you? Alice Bright, if I'm correct; twin sister of Edgar Bright, the Jack of Hearts and known as the Gentle Demon." surprise mf

Alice took her time studying the man. How had he known about her? What gave it away? What had she done to inform him of her identity? Most of all, who is this bastard? He was handsome, without a doubt, even with a mask on; black hair and intense emerald eyes, containing a youthful aura, but at the same time holding himself with such composed regality. His body was carved to perfection. He wore a simple yet dazzling dark sapphire mask with round diamonds literring it, the suit on his body looking ridiculously expensive.

Dark and regal... only one name clicked in the girl's head: the popular and widely loved King of Spades.

"I take it you're King Ray Blackwell...?"

The man rolled his eyes distastefully at the attached title. But he made no move to deny his identity, something that's against tradition. 'How hypocritical,' Alice thought dryly.

"Forget the King part, it's too preppy for my tastes," he said. "Just Ray is fine."

Alice rose a thin eyebrow. For a king, Ray Blackwell was too casual. She's always depicted him as cold and dignified, with no intention of fooling around; just like the opposing King of Hearts. Yet here he was: the Black King himself who didn't give a horse's muck whether people found out about his identity or not, speaking informally as if he'd known Alice all their lives.

'Charming-- I mean, preposterous! Ghastly!'

Well... what can she say? It's her first time meeting a man like Ray; someone true to himself and didn't stumble foolishly in a vain attempt of becoming the perfect gentleman.

But no. In the Bright household, emotions were a mortal sin. It was the biggest crime. And Alice grew up all her life believing it.

Naturally, she ignored her fluttering heart.

"So," Alice walked around the garden with Ray. She hadn't even noticed how her irritation with him had suddenly faded after witnessing his genuine personality. "The King of Spades is a fan of balls, then?"

Ray snorted. "Heck no. What makes you think that just because I attend 'em, I like 'em? Isn't everyone only here for the sake of making connections?"

"Probably." Alice would be damned if she voiced her agreement. "And does that rule apply to you as well, sire?"

Ray gave the girl a disgusted look. She only blinked, urging him to voice out what took him aback.

"Okay. One, it doesn't. I'm just here to let loose for a bit. Second... Cut that formality out! It's creepy." "Why so? Do your soldiers not address you that way?"

Ray's green orbs took on a fond light, giving Alice the answer right away, as if his memories of his subordinates were all warm and cozy. One could tell he was a good leader and a true king by just a glance of that. And maybe, she thought, he was a brother, too; a brother to the rest of his army. Alice wondered how they treated each other... did they eat at the same table? Did they disregard ranks and fraternized comfortably? Was it like a home in the Black Army's headquarters?

"They address me as a king during official business, yes," he replied. "But we're just ourselves around one another for most of the time. Parties every week or so, lots of laughter and pranks... it's like a brotherhood."

The faintest trace of a smile ghosted the girl's lips. "It sounds lovely."

From there, it went on and on. Ray asked Alice what was her favorite animal, to which she replied cats for they were elegant and had the cutest little mewls; and much to her surprise, Ray shared her thoughts. She, in return, asked him what he thought about table etiquette, and he laughed at just how preppy Alice was being. Nevertheless, he answered her, saying "I think dining fancily's fine if serious stuff are going on, like funerals or oathtakings. It's a way of showing respect. But people shouldn't be judged by how they act at the table. In fact, class shouldn't even be a social judgement or something. 'Course, this is just my opinion. And I think table manners should be kept to a minimum. People deserve to enjoy their food and time without fear of being critiqued of how classy or polite they are. They should be able to be just themselves in a table, because after all, that honesty's bound to form really tight relationships real quick, no?"

A bit more of talking and before she even knew it, it had been past 3AM now. Alice never thought it would be so fun to converse with the king. He was honest and frank, yet still respectful and even funny. They shared a lot of opinions about several topics, and one's answer changed the perspective of the other. The Bright lady wished to the twinkling stars high above she'd get another chance at talking with Ray in the future.

Now, Alice knew she shouldn't be rooting for the opposition. Her household is a Red through and through. In fact, her brother's the Jack of Hearts himself! At the back of her head, the ever-obedient little prodigy of the Bright family screamed at her to get away and cut off all connections with Blackwell. 'What do you think you're doing?!' a part of her screeched.

But right now, she wasn't really a Bright. She was just Alice. Little ol' Alice, who came to a masquerade ball in hopes of being able to talk to whoever she wants without her status bothering her. And she wasn't ready to throw that away just yet, and return to her uptight lifestyle.

'Just not yet, please,' she pleaded with her own self.

Suddenly, a slow, hopeful, smooth tune took on. It was faint and distant, coming from the ballroom many yards away. Yet she and Ray both heard it, the melody carried by the wind to their ears, and Ray took the cue.

"May I have this dance, Alice?" He asked her, the gentlest, most handsome smile on his lips, offering her his hand, and the girl's heart skipped a beat.

Had it been any other man; a pretentious, try-hard fake gentleman or a drunk bastard, she would've slapped. But no... not this one. He was a bastard, yes, the feisty part of her claimed, but he was a good bastard. A modest, decent, alright bastard.

Alice let her face be lit up by a grin. It had been her first in so long. She placed her hand on top Ray's and they both started dancing to the slow, almost-romantic music, everything else fading and all they could feel was this blossoming warmth in their souls.

And long after the song was over, and all was said and done, they still remained in one another's embrace. Red and Black forgetting their blazing feud for even just a moment; even in just a masquerade ball. They're just Alice and Ray, each silently praying dawn never comes and they'd never have to say theeir goodbyes.

Alice giggled under her breath. She'd decided. Maybe masquerades aren't so bad after all.

[myste-rae]

Northern Ireland is still a British territory

to add to this, cause this is something i can actually talk about

ireland has been fighting english occupation... for centuries. the english came here and they colonised. there were plantations with english landlords and the irish serving near enough as slaves. we fought for centuries, and the easter rising in 1916 was a big step

the war of independence kicked off, and the brits send thugs to brutalise us. innocent families were slaughtered to 'send a message'. look up the black and tans, and bloody sunday. it was a period of intense suffering while the brave men and women of the ira and c na mb fought for our independence - and got it. sort of

the treaty was signed in 1921, and had two issues. 1 - ireland would become an independent 'dominion' and still swear fealty to the crown, and 2 - the north would remain under british control

this caused a division, pro-treaty, and anti-treaty, and then we had our civil war. eventually, things settled, where the south was independent, and the north.. was not

now here's the deal. there were two cultures, and still are. catholics and protestants. nationalists and unionists. irish and british. it's got little to do with religion, and everything to do with identity. unionists/loyalists like the uk, tend to be protestant, and tend to be descended from colonising brits. nationalists want ireland to be independent, tend to be raised catholic, and are the native people of ireland

in the south.. protestants were just fine. the irish got more control, land, etc, but the brits living there.. integrated into society

up north? catholics, irish people in general... were despised. the royal ulster constabulary, the police, in charge, was firmly protestant. the lprds were all british. we were ruled over. irish people were subject to severe abuse, both from unionist civilians, and the police. it was.. very racially charged. still is

the troubles broke out. the irish people were tired of being beaten and spat on up north, so the ira began to fight again. in response, loyalist paramilitaries targetted irish civilians, irish towns, pubs, and massacred us. the royal ulster constabulary.. would bust into catholic homes at night, and shoot up families as they slept. women and children and all

eventually, we got the good friday agreement. that opened the border between the north and south, and gave us irish folk.. some protections, and rights, so we could be seen as equal citizens. in theory. that was just over 20 years ago

since then.. tensions continue. there's still grafitti, 'kill all taigs', in loyalist areas. taig is a racial slur for us irish. we're still beaten and spat on. us 'taigs' and 'fenian cunts' get regularly jumped and beat. the psni, our new police force, still targets us disproportionately.

brexit made the brits here upset. the loyalist paramilitaries used that, and fed them a narrative where they are persecuted, and the psni goes easy on the irish. and that's why the there's riots. loyalist brits being angry that apparently the psni targets them

after a week of throwing molotovs at the police, and a handful of token arrests, they finally moved against an irish neighbuorhood. the police, who previously.. at least stood there, even if they did nothing to stop the riots... decided to just fuck off and leave

brits tore the gate down. catholics living there had to defend themselves. the next day, the irish protested. NOW the police got the water cannon, set dogs on them, and charged them medieval style. next day, brits riot, drive a burning car into the blockade - police just stand and take it. but they were all too happy to get violent with the irish

look, i'm rambling. thing is, i've been under immense stress for months, as the brits have been getting more and more angry. had a bomb in my (irish majority) neighbourhood. was fun. cry a lot reading the news

point is. brits are colonising scum, and the north of ireland is still oppressed, and we are crying out for freedom and to reunify with ireland. we've spent centuries under the british thumb, as second class citizens in our own country. we're the majority, but we're treated... i hate to make the comparison, but imagine a black person in the kkk deep south. 'taig' is a similar slur to the n word, too. it's fun. and i haven't even got into the loyalist - neo nazi links...

ugh. shit sucks here. we are still colonised, still oppressed, and we want independence. but it's gonna get ugly before it gets good. there'll be fighting. there'll be blood. it's gonna fucking suck, and i'm terrified

vent over. thanks for coming to my ted talk

people that act like Britain’s colonial past is ancient history, here are some facts:

Afghanistan’s independence was in 1919.

Egypt was in 1922.

Iraq was in 1932.

Jordan was in 1946.

India and Pakistan were in 1947.

Myanmar and Sri Lanka were in 1948.

Libya and Oman were in 1951.

Sudan was in 1956.

Ghana and Malaysia were in 1957.

Singapore was in 1959.

Cyprus and Nigeria were in 1960.

Cameroon, Kuwait, Tanzania, and Sierra Leone were in 1961.

Jamaica, Uganda, and Trinidad and Tobago were in 1962.

Kenya was in 1963.

Malawi, Malta, and Zambia were in 1964.

The Gambia and the Maldives were in 1965.

Barbados, Botswana, Lesotho, and Guyana were in 1966.

Yemen was in 1967.

Eswartini (Swaziland), Nauru, and Mauritius were in 1968.

Fiji and Tonga were in 1970.

Bahrain, Qatar, and the United Arab Emirates were in 1971.

The Bahamas was in 1973.

Grenada was in 1974

Seychelles was in 1976.

Dominica, Tuvalu, and the Solomon Islands were in 1978.

Kiribati and Saint Lucia were in 1979.

Saint Vincent and the Grenadines were in 1979.

Vanuatu and Zimbabwe were in 1980.

Antigua and Barbuda and Belize were in 1981.

Saint Kitts was in 1983.

Brunei was in 1984.

In addition to that: Northern Ireland is still a British territory. So are the Falkland Islands and Bermuda.

This is in the lifetime of ancestors we have that are still alive. Many of these countries were left in financial ruination after colonization with their resources drained. Many of these countries have been repeatedly bombed by the UK and their allies since independence as well. The very act of independence often resulted in massive loss of life (see the partition of India and Pakistan which resulted in 2 million people dead, 20 million people displaced, and countless others never recovered). Calling it ancient history or underplaying the sheer cruelty of what the British empire did is such a slap in the face to the people who suffered for centuries.