#but there is a *very good hug* at the beginning of the little truce deal that I needed to include some crying and possibly a kiss
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corelliaxdreaming · 3 years ago
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I don't get this story. It's two childhood friends from Alderaan who meet much later, post ANH, when one is a Rebel and one is a stomtrooper, during what would have been Alderaanian Christmas and have their own little space version of the Christmas Truce of 1914. And I get that that's very clearly the reference, but...there's no real discussion of how fucked up this is. Rel wants to ask Max how he can possibly still be with the Empire after Alderaan was destroyed, but every time he almost maganages to bring it up, Max makes it very clear he doesn't want to talk about Alderaan. Also very clear that he's not okay with what happened. And it's kinda like, I really want to like this story but we are not in the business of just forgiving Alderaanians who stayed unquestioningly with the Empire after Alderaan. And Rel clearly feels this way...but he just lets it go. It's fucked up. Also this story would've been more painfully delightful if it was more gay.
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yanderes-galore · 2 years ago
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Now that we have Yandere! Mario and Yandere! Luigi….. how would it be if they liked the same person? Would they team up? I would figure they would (love your work btw)
Thank you for a enjoying my work! Sure! I'll do more Super Mario :) ❤💚
Yandere! Mario + Yandere! Luigi Concept
Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry/Sharing
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possessive behavior, Clingy behavior, Manipulation, Jealousy, Isolation, Forced relationship, Rivalry, Sharing of Darling.
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- To be fair, the way I write them they do share traits with each other.
- They're both Obsessive, Manipulative, Overprotective, Clingy and Deceptive.
- Luigi is more worshipping, childish, and self conscious.
- While Mario is more possessive, playful, and cruel.
- As they're brothers there's a good chance they'll share.
- Although they will fight sometimes.
- I feel how your relationship begins depends on which brother loves you first.
- Let's start with Luigi.
- The younger brother is just ecstatic when he meets you and falls in love.
- He tells his brother all about you.
- Mario even catches his brother writing letters to you.
- At first, Mario is very supportive.
- His brother loves someone? How nice!
- Why doesn't he help him win your heart?
- Mario promises to do whatever he can to help Luigi have you.
- He wants to see his brother happy, right?
- However, as Mario tries to make Luigi win your heart.
- He ends up falling for you as well-
- Hearing Luigi mutter and rant about you reflects onto Mario.
- Now they're both starry-eyed and lovey-dovey when you're mentioned.
- Mario tries to hide it but it gets difficult over time.
- Which causes fighting and the eventual truce that they'll both have you to make each other happy.
- Now there's if you meet Mario first
- Mario doesn't spill all his emotions about you to Luigi.
- Luigi slowly finds out himself that Mario has taken a liking to you.
- Luigi's happy for his brother, although a bit jealous.
- Despite this, as brother's do, he supports him.
- Even when he finds himself falling for you too....
- Both brothers end up being rather supportive in the end of each other's feelings.
- They both love you, they both want you happy, so...
- Would it be so bad to work together?
- Normally I do not write pairings where the Yanderes share.
- These two seem like an exception.
- Their fights are more like sibling quarrels, even if they turn brutal.
- At first it seems like their competing for you.
- Both giving you flowers, both giving your cards, both being rather affectionate....
- It's suspicious.
- Mario is rather demanding in affection, while Luigi just takes what he can get.
- Even in this pair Mario is selfish.
- But he gives his dear little brother a turn for your attention, too.
- It's hard to get time for yourself when both brothers hover around you so closely.
- Your best bet is waiting for them to be busy saving Peach or Daisy.
- Maybe even cut a deal with Bowser to get away just for a little while....
- It doesn't matter if you don't like one of them, they'll follow anyways.
- The good news is they're really affectionate...?
- They love hugging you and holding you close.
- The two of them feel warm, too-
- Some of their obsession is enjoyable.
- For a bit it's nice to know someone cares about you.
- Then it gets suffocating....
- They get controlling, Mario is definitely the leader of the two.
- Mario is more focused on isolating you.
- While Luigi is more focused on milking you of your attention.
- Every last ounce of love and time you have is dedicated to them... willingly or by force....
- Being around them quickly turns exhausting.
- You want time to yourself, you want time around other people.
- They do not want you moving an inch.
- They're supposed to be the Mushroom Kingdom's greatest heroes.
- Heroic and beacons of hope.
- They shouldn't be suffocating to anyone.
- But here you are... sandwiched between two so called heroes who are willing to use their popularity against you.
- All to keep themselves happy.
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strange-lace · 3 years ago
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Comfort & Realization
A gift for @winterpower98 since it’s her birthday! Below is some shadowpeach hurt/comfort for her Mentorswap AU, enjoy!
Content warning for descriptions of a character having a panic attack.
Wukong wasn’t sure when it started happening. This… truce between him and Macaque.
If he had to try and pinpoint it, it would likely be the first time they stumbled upon each other in Mei’s apartment while the mechanic wasn’t there. Where they were both far too exhausted that instead of fighting, they simply just… hung out around each other. Not much talking. Just simply finding quiet comfort in each other, two people who just felt beat down by life. Two people who simply needed rest and peace.
They had silently agreed that they wouldn’t speak of their meeting after waking up snuggled close to one another. That this was a one-time thing and would never happen again.
Or at least, that was the plan.
But they kept running into each other at Mei’s apartment. And every time, they kept coming up with excuses to put the façade that them hanging around each other was only done begrudgingly. And every time, they’d end up falling asleep on Mei’s couch out of sheer exhaustion for her to inevitably find late at night after a long day at the shop. And every single time, Mei would simply smile at the sight of the two and leave them after laying a blanket over the two of them.
Well and perhaps after taking a photo… or several.
She found them adorable, so sue her.
Regardless, while Wukong would only admit it on the threat of death… he had found himself genuinely enjoying Macaque’s company during those quiet moments of truce. Moments where he didn’t have to put on the mask of still being the cocky, energetic young man everyone saw him as and instead could let it drop. Macaque didn’t ask questions or try to prod, he simply gave Wukong a look of concern and didn’t protest if he sat closer to the monkey demon than necessary.
It was… nice. A lot nicer than he wanted to admit.
But, like seemingly everything in Wukong’s life, it had to change. Quickly, suddenly, and uncomfortably.
And what’s worse is that he couldn’t blame anything aside from things he had been holding down, repressing, since the very beginning. When things came crumbling down. Things he couldn’t ignore anymore.
He just couldn’t.
It had started well enough, Wukong allowing himself a breather after defeating another demon that thought they could take the staff for themselves. But they certainly put up a good fight, even giving him a couple of close calls that could have been bad if Bajie hadn’t screamed out a warning to him at just the right moment. That certainly let his heart thundering in his chest, even after the danger was long gone.
And yet Wukong couldn’t help but smile as his friends were quick to rush him into a crushing hug filled with relief. Bajie especially, despite his claims to the contrary.
“Nice to see that you still love me Bagel.”
“Call me that again and I will suplex your skinny ass.”
Tang, Sandy, and Bai Long could only chuckle at the two as they bicker back and forth, the familiar sounds and routine bringing a surprising amount of comfort to Wukong. Things weren’t quite the same as before, of course. But it was enough to slowly start putting his racing heart at ease and he slowly had started to become comfortable.
Until he saw a flash of red hair in his peripheral vision. A shade of red that he knew anywhere.
And his eyes met with Red’s, who was staring at him in shock from across the plaza.
It felt like time had stopped.
Wukong could faintly hear his friends calling his name and yet it only sounded like muffled echoes. All that his mind could register was the jackhammer beat of his heart and how Red seemed to be weighed down by… Wukong didn’t know what. Guilt? Sadness? Self-loathing? He didn’t know.
All the young man knew right in that moment was that he needed to leave. Now.
And that he did. It was all a blur of panic and fear for him. He might have heard Bajie and Tang call out to him as he had the staff take him away, but all Wukong could hear was his skyrocketing pulse and feel the impending nausea curdled his stomach. He just wanted to get away to somewhere safe where nobody would find him. Where Red wouldn’t find him or be able to even see him.
Wukong stumbled into Mei’s apartment, breathing uneven and tears already brimming his eyes. His chest felt tight, as if still in the vice grip of the demon he fought earlier, and his legs wobbly that it was a minor miracle that he was able to make it to the couch. The young man collapsed on to the sofa and curled into a fetal position, unable to hear anything but his heartbeat.
Unable to see anything except the sight of his former father figure for the first time in months.
Not since he lied to Wukong, stole his powers, tried to kill is mentor and nearly killed him in the worst way possible during the process.
Wukong thought with how long it had been that maybe the sight of Red wouldn’t hurt anymore.
He was wrong. It had hurt even worse than before.
In the dark quiet of Mei’s apartment, Wukong was left to quietly sob and spiral back down to the memories of where everything changed. The shock of having his powers ripped from him by someone he thought he trusted. Nearly being buried alive, something that gave still gave him nightmares to remember. The stab of betrayal. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.
He stopped completely. Breath, thoughts, and all. There was a hand on his shoulder.
Before Wukong could lash out at any possible threat, he caught sight of familiar black fur and ridged ears. It was Macaque, eyes soft with worry despite the poor attempt of a smirk to hide it.
“Hey… you okay there, monkey wannabe? Did something happen?”
That was the needle to Wukong’s metaphorical balloon of anxiety, stress, and heartbreak.
Quiet whimpers became full-on sobs and Macaque stumbled back as Wukong clung to him, desperate for comfort. Countless questions were running through the demon’s head, wondering what could have possibly left someone like Wukong in such a state. But he left them on the backburner of his mind.
Now was definitely not the time to ask questions.
Instead, he silently held Wukong, stroking his back to offer comfort.
Macaque wasn’t sure how long they were there but eventually, Wukong’s sobs died down and yet he still continued to cling to the other. He was tired and cold; Macaque was comforting and warm. His fur was surprisingly soft and smelled faintly of jasmine.
“You… feel better now?”
“…A little. Thanks Macaque.” Wukong’s voice was scratchy from all his crying, eyes red as well, yet he gave the other a weak smile of gratitude.
He froze. He called him Macaque. Wukong never called him by his actual name. It was always ‘Hot Topic reject’ or just ‘Mac’, never his full name.
Macaque liked how it sounded when Wukong said his name.
Oh. Oh no.
“Uh, no problem. Do you want me to-?” He stopped as he felt Wukong squeeze tighter around his shoulders, burying his face in the crook of the demon’s neck.
“Stay. Please.” He had never heard him sound so small.
“Okay, I’ll stay, just stop with the puppy dog eyes,” Macaque grumbled, ignoring the chuckles which rumbled through Wukong’s chest. He huffed, silently wrapping his tail around the other’s waist in hopes it would go unnoticed.
“Sorry if I got your shoulder soggy Macaque,” Wukong mumbled, exhaustion heavy in his voice as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Thankfully, that kept him from noticing the demon’s cheeks turn red as he came to realize just how much he liked the sound of his name when it came from his supposed nemesis. Enough that Macaque was starting to hope that Wukong would continue to call him by that name after all of… this.
“Don’t worry about it… Wukong.”
“Hm… I like how you say my name.” Macaque’s face was now completely red, right to the tips of his ears.
Oh no!
“Well, if you want… I could just keep calling you that instead of ‘monkey wannabe’. But only if you stop calling me a Hot Topic reject. Do we have a deal?”
Wukong yawned, allowing the demon to see the others tiny fangs and while Macaque would carry it to his grave, he found it extremely adorable.
“Deal. I like calling you… Macaque more anyway.” He let out another yawn. “I’m just gonna, rest my eyes for a bit.”
Wukong was immediately out like a light.
And as Macaque stared at the young man’s face, now much more relaxed in the throes of sleep, he knew he was completely gone. And it had only taken him now to realize it. A part of him was tempted to immediately do something about it, start courting Wukong, but he held himself back.
He had plenty of time. For now, he would just enjoy the moment. And maybe… rest his eyes for a moment too.
Macaque was also immediately out after he closed his eyes.
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captainsimagines · 3 years ago
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To Topple A Giant || Chapter Seven
Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.
Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader
Part 7 of 10 ~ Mini-Series
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Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.
Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; strong language; canon-level violence (explosions); mentions of alcohol poisoning; mention of Infinity War/Endgame deaths; perceived domestic partner abuse (no such thing actually happens!); concussions and minor injuries; mentions of arranged marriages; mentions of drug smuggling and human smuggling; lying; ANGST!
Word Count: 14,100+
A/N: So close to the finish line...
~
Spain, 2024, 5:07 pm.
    “Get the damn ice cream, Peter. I’m not holding you back.”
The kid sped down the sidewalk as fast as his feet would let him, skips in his steps and ignoring the chastising yells from Bucky. 
“You’re letting him have sugar?” Bucky whines, sluggish in his own steps. The Spanish summer sun was blaring, burning your forehead and building the same cold craving in your throat. It was just the three of you, carefree but melting, happy but annoyed with the constant proximity of each other. The villa (if you could call it that, it was more of a cottage) was listed as having three rooms - not the two you were stuck with. Bucky was at the last inch of self-control, begging you to switch with him - if only for one night - because ‘the kid fuckin’ talks in his sleep, doll! One more night and I might smother him.’
It was Bucky’s idea to take a little vacation. A year after the blip and only a few months after Peter’s world was turned upside down, a vacation seemed like the best choice. Preferably somewhere that was quiet and somewhat rural - somewhere you guys won’t be easily recognized. 
So the three of you packed and flew across the pond. In all honesty, you hadn’t even told the rest of the team where you were going besides Wanda. One day you were greeting them in the common room and preparing lunch, the other you were throwing your suitcase in one of the two vacant rooms in this little Spanish cottage. The three of you were truly off the map in terms of late notice. 
“Let the kid live. He’s having a mid-life crisis at eighteen.”
“I’ve had more mid-life crisis’s than his age combined. He’s not special.” The pointed look on your face had Bucky sighing in small defeat. “Okay, okay.”
These past two weeks in shared solitude, even if this trip was supposed to be relaxing, was beginning to melt into a tiresome routine. Well, just nights. The days were mild at best. And to make matters worse, you and Bucky had been dodging the team’s calls, messages that you left for voicemail. Bucky had clicked ‘end call’ more times than he could count and his excuse was always, ‘ the kid doesn’t want to leave, doll.’ Even annoyed with Peter, Bucky wanted only the best. 
It was only a matter of time until your phones were tracked and you were forced to come home. Everyone probably knew where you were anyway - you weren’t exactly hiding. But since you already got a good two weeks in, you figured they had taken some sympathy. 
“Think we can get him to visit a museum today or something?”
Bucky shrugged, lining up at the coffee stand near the ice cream cart. “Saw him checking out banana bread recipes last night. Seems more like a baking day.”
You could go for some banana bread. Ordering two iced coffees and making more miscellaneous small talk while waiting for Peter to order, you studied the streets of Spain. The country had suffered greatly when, cruelly, more than half their population disappeared. Left in proper ruins, no one believed it would ever recover. But then there was an election, a change in the structural government, and it just… did. They rebuilt themselves better than any country had, in your opinion. 
It was a rather calm day with minimal people out and about. It was exactly what you guys deserved after every mission - in your case, after a long month of PR recovery after that bar fight alongside Sam. 
“You bake, Barnes?”
He smiled fully, “Any chance I get.”
“You guys want anything?” Peter yelled out, bouncing lightly on his heels as he waited. You waved him off. “You sure? It’s pretty cheap for summer prices!”
After rejecting Peter’s dozen ice cream questions and offers, the three of you decided the heat was a little too much to bear, even with sunscreen. Peter spoke most of the way. Something about that banana bread.
Bucky, being the baker, helped him choose the best recipe of the four Peter had bookmarked and soon the kitchen was only half dirty with eggs and mashed bananas.
“What do you mean a cup of baking soda, kid? Use your eyes,” Bucky yelled in second hand embarrassment. “I don’t think a cup of baking soda goes in anything.”
“Read right here, dude,” Peter poked at his tablet. “A cuuuu... okay. Okay, I see what I read wrong.”
“You two better be making me some good ass banana bread today. I don’t want to throw up!” You had opted to let the two men have their fun in the kitchen. You tried to bake, but you were more of a cook than anything else.
“You could be reading out the directions.”
“I could do a lot of things,” you respond with the emphasis on “could”.
The doorbell interrupted your no-so-real argument. Peter snickered, “You could get the door.”
With a displeased grunt and a straightened middle finger to the kid, you opened the door to find two people who were definitely not invited. Clint, with this magical and massive smile on his face and Steve, with his eyebrow cocked and arms crossed.
“Oh, would you look at that. Guests! Welcome to our humble abode!”
“Now, how and why?” Bucky groaned. But his actions contradict his words as he went to give Steve a hug, covered in flour and all.
“Hey, Clint,” you mumbled, purposely ignoring the super soldier side-eyeing you. “Care to tell us what you’re doing here?
Clint returned your warm smile, “See, Cap? They’re safe. Can we go now?”
Steve rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in a rather demanding way. “We’re here to take them home, Clint.”
Bucky scoffs.
“Eh, you might be. But I’m here to soak up some of this Spanish sun.” A low grunt sounded in the back of Clint’s throat as he spoke. He was already making his way to pick at the mashed ingredients. 
“You heard the man, pal,” Bucky slaps Steve’s shoulder, leaving him at the door as well. Awkwardly left alone, you blow a small raspberry and step aside to let Steve in. Bucky continues, “We’re here to soak up some sun. And I’m not done soakin’.”
With great protest, Steve maneuvers Bucky away from the kitchen and into the hallway beside the master bedroom. With both super soldiers out of the way, you finally go to help Peter with mixing. “Why did he come, really?”
Clint shrugs, arms deep inside your cabinets and collecting whatever desserts you had pre-packaged. “Honestly? I think he missed you guys.”
“All this drama because he misses Bucky? He could have just shown up declaring truce and had a nice little vacation,” you mumbled, glaring at Steve from behind. 
“Think he felt like he needed an excuse to even show up. But they really are asking for you guys back home. Threatened to arrest your ass.”
“Lucky me.”
You could make out snippets of their tiny argument up ahead. 
‘You could have called.’
‘You haven’t been answering the phone, Buck.’
‘I’ve been relaxing.’
A heavy sigh. 
‘I just thought we told each other everything.’
‘Believe it or not, Steve… but I’ve got more friends now. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m not trying to ignore you, I - I just needed to help another friend out this time.’
Peter, with great care, washes his hands and makes sure there aren't any random mashes of banana on his clothing before he side-steps you and Clint to interrupt the very ‘private’ conversation between the super soldiers. “Hey, Mr. Steve- Cap, hey.”
Steve immediately lets his hard gaze falter. “Hey, kid. You doin’ good?”
Peter nods in response. 
“He’s doing great! Much needed vacation that still isn’t over.”
“Buck.”
Inserting yourself may not have been the best option. “Give it up, Rogers. We’re on vacation. And until the kid says he’s ready to go home, we go home.”
Peter fumbles, “Oh, please don’t put me on the spot like that. I’m not good with confrontation.”
Bucky quickly answers before Steve can, “It’s not confrontation, Peter. We love being out here and if it’s helping your mental health, we’re not going to take that away from you.”
Steve blinks and his expression looks like one of hurt. “You think I wanna do that? The literal president has been asking for your location. You’re not allowed to leave the country.”
You shrug, “Well, no one told me that.”
“Buck, you were just granted immunity three months ago. And you go and drop off the face of the earth?”
“I’m literally in Spain.”
Steve blinks again. He really can’t believe he’s got to deal with two people with similar personalities. “Your point?”
“On Earth…?”
Clint decides to make his presence known. He has even inserted the poured batter into the glass tray for you guys. “Why don’t we just stay with ‘em, Cap? God knows you need a vacation, too.”
“We have two rooms. You’d be bunking on the floor,” you say, pointing to random areas on the floor.
Clint waves his hand in the air, “Not the worst place I’ve slept in.”
“I’m being hounded day and night to bring you three home.” Steve looks about ready to burst into tears of frustration.
“Turn off your phone?”
Steve whips his head and stomps to close the few feet of distance between the two of you. “You really think it’s that easy? You really think I wasn’t worried when my two best friends just disappeared one night and didn’t tell me?”
Two.
Best. 
Friends. 
Before you could even comment, Bucky puts on the dramatics.  “We ran away together, Stevie. We meant to tell you.”
Steve takes a moment, just staring at the ceiling and piecing together his thoughts. “Joke all you want, Buck. I’m bringing you home.”
“Ste-”
“No!” He’s stomping back to the front door now. “I’ve had enough! I can’t stand not knowing where you guys are all day when bad things keep happening in this world. Just… just come home.”
All is quiet besides the quiet munching of Clint and his rogue cookie. Steve’s face did this thing when he was at war with himself, anxiety crawling up his arms or panic weighing his empty stomach down. His face drained color and that perfect renaissance oil lost its blush, blended paint that turned a murky gray. A masterpiece lost in storage.
“I can take the couch,” you whisper, arms erupting in goosebumps. “You guys can stay the night and we’ll go home tomorrow, okay? Or somewhere pre-approved, I guess.”
Bucky didn’t argue. Neither did Peter. 
Steve's imaginary painter adds the softest pink back to Steve’s cheeks as you compile a mess of blankets and pillows for him.
Present Day, 2025, 7:15 am
     There’s a warmth near you as you begin to lazily shuffle against the sheets, heavy on your chest but comfortable all in all. 
There are no worries, no sudden bursts of Avenger business, no fights needing to be fought. Simply Steve warm against you with sunlight draping over his bare and freckled shoulders. 
The serum enhanced for the sole purpose of strength and survival. And sure, it healed the body quicker than the average human body could naturally, but the one thing it couldn’t do was strip personality. 
Steve had freckles splattered along his broad shoulders and down to in between his shoulder blades, light in color and all similar in size. Something a lot of people hated about themselves and tried to cover up while others tried to mimic. The serum was supposed to heal damaged skin, sunburnt areas, birthmarks, and even moles - at least, that’s what the official 1943 report had claimed. 
But over the years, Steve had continued to age and grow into his new body. And while he couldn’t get dangerously sick anymore, anything unknown could still occur. No one had the same serum as Steve and last Tony had heard, Peggy had spilled the last remnants of Steve’s original DNA (blood they took before the procedure) in the Hudson. Bucky seemed to be experiencing the same natural changes as well. 
It had been proven that neither Steve nor Bucky could carry or transmit diseases, experience abnormal cell production, nor could they develop a lifelong ailment without severe reason. 
So imagine everyone’s surprise when Clint called one morning while deep in a routine mission (somewhere in Africa, you really don’t remember) to relay the news that, ‘you guys aren’t gonna fucking believe this - yeah Rogers, I’m telling them the hilarious news right now - Steve’s appendix just up and exploded last night - hey! He just stole - hold on. Give me back my hearing aid, you abelist fuck!’. 
Steve had stretch marks on his back from the procedure, his elbow still hurt from time to time after he had snapped it a year ago, and the white scar above his right hip reminded him that even super soldiers are not exempt from the wonders of the appendix. 
His breathing was slow and his eyelids flickered. Seemed he was enjoying his first deep sleep in a while. You craned your neck to try and read the cable box across the room, slightly making out a seven in the front before you gave up. You were due for your annual eye appointment, anyway. 
Steve did have perfect eyesight though, so damn him.
You shrugged the sheets from your arms. He was on his stomach, cheek planted on your chest and right foot dangling off the side of the bed. His left arm was draped over your middle and his right was tucked inside a pillowcase. His hair draped over his forehead and some of it was still tucked behind his ears. 
Careful to not wake him, you gently traced the ridge of his nose with your index finger, resting it on the tip that always turned bright pink regardless of mood. Once at the end, you went back up to trace it again. 
“Beak,” you whispered more to yourself, and you bit your lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to giggle. 
Steve was here, next to and near you, and he was so warm. 
You could have stayed in bed for hours, sleeping and cuddling and fucking, and you would bet your left kidney that Steve wanted that too. It was impossible to question it, it had to be, because Steve was too genuine. You had met hundreds of men in your life: some the literal devil, some cowards, some reserved, and rarely, some genuine at heart. Steve fit some category that didn’t even exist. 
You wanted to love him and hate him. You wanted to make love and fuck him. You wanted to kiss him and annoy him. He checked a box that didn’t exist but that you would just have to reserve for him. The annoying little shit who could lift Thor’s hammer. 
The door almost ripped off its hinges by the brute force of someone’s leg. You didn’t even fully register being crushed by Steve until his elbow stabbed you right in the gut. 
“Rogers!” you groaned in pain and half trying to reach for your pistol on the bedside table. 
There was a collective gasp of surprise (and maybe terror) from the people that just broke down your door. After yesterday’s unplanned run-in with Ramirez, no doubt this was called-for.
“Oh, hell…” Sam grumbled, lowering his gun the second he realized two of his friends were sharing one bed. “Lemme guess, the other bed’s mattress was too firm but this one’s just right.”
Bucky stood behind him, a knowing smirk plastered on his smug face. He looked between you and Steve, ignoring the way Scott was practically pulling his shoulder down in pure fits of laughter. Didn’t take much for Scott to tip himself over and almost drag Bucky down with him. 
“Couldn’t you knock?” Steve nearly yelled, body still trying to shield yours even though you were fully dressed. You were struggling to push him away in pure embarrassment, but he seemed intent with this form of protection. 
“You weren’t answering your phone! We changed our check-in times to seven instead of eight, remember?”
Steve, ever the gentleman, brought the sheets up higher for you and finally lifted himself out of bed. 
And Bucky, ever the gentleman who has been spending way too much time with Clint, nodded his head toward you. “You two fuck?”
Mouth dropping in humiliation, you pulled the sheets up over your head and screamed into the temporary cover. Steve sputtered over whatever explanation he was thinking of pulling out of his ass. 
“You two fucked,” Bucky smugly confirmed. 
Steve pulled on the nearest shirt and went to kick Scott, who was ‘criss-cross apple-sauced’ on the floor and laughing way too loudly. “Is it really any of your business?”
“Man, that’s an answer!” Sam was about to fall into the same fit as Scott. 
Annoyed, and fueled by that annoyance, you ripped the sheets off and marched for the bathroom. “You really want to know, you nosy little fucks? We did fuck and he made me come three times. Ask him how, I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two, no matter how embarrassed he may seem right now.”
You left him alone. You literally just exposed him and you left him alone with the wolves. 
All was quiet until Sam blew a small raspberry. “Three times?”
     Bucky didn’t need to speak to show he was about to tease the hell out of you. He simply sipped his coffee until he emptied it, and then refilled it. You couldn’t even finish a single mug yet because you were waiting to break the tension. 
Looking around the hotel bar because he still valued your privacy, Bucky made sure to keep his voice low. “Three times?”
Half wanting to slap the smirk off his face and the other half wanting to announce Steve’s naughty accomplishment, you settled for pouring more coffee into your mug. 
“Don’t you dare hold what I said against me, I literally had just woken up.”
“Mm, yeah. I remember how you literally moaned Thor’s name when you were startled awake from a nap in the living room.”
“Bucky!” you yelled, turning your shoulders inwards when you received a few odd looks from other early risers. Well, some were early risers. The person closest to the door was an agent, as was the other eating breakfast at the bar. “You promised you would never mention that again!”
He shook his head with amusement, “I can’t believe you swore me to secrecy when Loki basically told everyone.”
“He-!” Choking on your own spit, you slid lower into your booth. “That mischievous, conniving, son of a bitch.”
“In all honesty, I think that was his way of flirting with you.”
“Telling everyone I had a wet dream about his brother?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t be the first.”
You smirked, “Oh, trust me. I know.”
Bucky squinted, guilty in his spoken words. “All I’m saying is, it’s nice that you didn’t just write Steve off with us, as if nothing happened.”
It made your heart swell that even in a moment with you, Bucky would still always protect Steve. 
“I would never. We actually talked last night and he really apologized.”
“Really?” His eyes were hopeful. 
“He did. And as cliche as it sounds, one thing led to another.”
You realized your earlier words were contradictory when Bucky sighed sadly, “This better not have been a one time thing. I’ll strangle you both.”
You scoffed and finally took a piece of that blueberry muffin on your plate. “Screw you, Barnes. It’s Steve we’re talking about. I’d give him the world if I could.”
That made Bucky blush. “God, I’m stupidly happy for him. I always said he’d need to find a dame who had as big of a mouth as he does.”
Rolling your eyes, you offered him some of that muffin. He gladly broke off a piece. “Don’t go marrying us off just yet.”
“Doll, he almost imploded when we discovered you slept together. Teasing him about proposing might just kill him.”
You laughed at that. Although Steve had admitted he regretted the time you lost, there wasn’t any chance he would push you any further. He was probably comfortable with taking things slow, no matter the history. You had that in common. 
“Seems we’re all just gonna have to make sure we don’t cause his demise.”
Smiling as he chewed, Bucky played with your feet under the table. Safe moments like these always occurred before a mission, no matter how simple or heavy they were. And like people love to say, you never fought with each other before. Just in case. 
Going to bed angry was another thing entirely. That, the whole team was proficient in. 
“You ready for tonight?”
Yesterday had definitely turned you against the very concept of family reunions, what with the small ache between your shoulders. You were angry with Seda, with Ernesto, disappointed with Ramirez, and neutral toward your sister. 
God, your sister. This would be the first time since you left Mexico for school and SHIELD that you would be seeing her, as well as your other siblings. Jackeline was perhaps the only sibling you had some real memories with. Everyone else was already deep in the business or far away from the chaos. The team only knew of two other siblings who rsvp’d. The others: radio silence. 
“Part of me just wants a normal family wedding. I’m kinda hoping we can just end it all tonight.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Bucky chuckled, finishing off your muffin for you. “You’ll get some closure soon enough.”
There was no such thing as closure. Just less of a constant sting. 
“Bucky,” you spoke seriously now. “My father made Steve sign something yesterday.”
“He told us at the debrief yesterday.”
“When did you have a debrief?”
Bucky scooted in his booth, quickly explaining. “Uh well, it wasn’t so much of a debrief as it was a simple overview. Just a heads up.”
You tilted your head, somewhat unconvinced. “Uh-huh… but we could void it, right? He had a fucking notary there and everything.”
“We can declare it void, yeah Y/N,” he grabbed your hand over the table. “He won’t get tangled in this.”
With a heavy sigh, you gripped Bucky’s hand tighter. “I’m really glad you guys are gonna help us.”
He returned your smile. “Anything for family.”
Family. 
After all these years of self-hatred and despising your own blood, you blinded yourself of the simple truth that you already had a real family. Whether you were accepted after Sokovia, or after you helped Steve escape with Bucky, or after those long five years, you were accepted. And you accepted them right back. 
    The briefing goes as expected. Didn’t seem like anyone was going to live down the now obvious fact that you and Steve had slept together after years of unnoticed pining. You simply took the teasing in stride, better than Steve even, who stuffed his face full of chips in embarrassment.
The plan was simple but ever-evolving. The three of them will hang back: Bucky at the hotel, Scott and Sam at the nearby base with Torres. The base was fifteen minutes from the estate, hidden behind those same pine trees but the perfect cover - it was a nearby diner. Steve will still take the shield, FRIDAY was installed on your personal phones, and any weapons you attached to your person were specifically made to deter metal detectors. Once in, it was mingle, mingle, mingle.
There were going to be a thousand questions to answer: What in the world is Captain America doing here? Is he here to cause trouble? Are you two seriously dating? So, Captain America being one of us means holding Thor’s hammer was a myth, aye?
Then you would move on to the more important guests. Jackeline’s greeting would be more of a reunion. But flying under and over the radar had to walk the same line - you needed to mix in with the crowd and make sure they see you participating, but then escape for a little while to continue the mission.
Once in, the task was to electronically and physically retrieve everything Scott didn’t have time to yesterday, plus the new information Ernesto got for today and tomorrow. His latest emails, list of contacts, checks, birth certificates, video evidence.
“Do we all know our duties?”
You wanted to wrap up Steve’s commanding voice and keep it a special secret, a secret that was yours and the team’s to share.
“We got it, Cap. For the tenth time this week - you two okay?”
Sam was rewarded with a slanted smile. “Everytime you ask me that, I’ll lie.”
He nods, “At least you admit it. You’re not alone in this.”
“For years,” you continued, “It’s been that way. I guess I’m both ready for it to end and not. I want them behind bars. I don’t want the repercussions.”
“Makes sense,” Bucky agrees. “At least part of the fight will be over.”
Beside you, Steve clenches his jaw. “We’re always fighting.”
Bucky grins at him, “Yeah.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he leans forward to squeeze Steve’s thigh. “At least it’s not with each other anymore.”
     They weren’t lying when they said vibranium was lightweight. Felt different from nano-tech and was an obvious change from your regular body suit. You felt protected and stylish. Good, because even though you weren’t obligated to impress those vultures, there were still a few cousins and extended family members you wanted compliments from. And?
The black turtleneck was warmer than you expected and didn’t strangle you. You were a bundle of velvet bliss right now. The cuffs were a golden brown, completely made from vibranium. Modeling in the mirror, you whispered a few ‘pew-pew’s as you blocked pretend bullets. C’mon, golden bracelets? You were basically Wonder Woman. 
The tights were your own, thin and black and you could still see there were faint bruises on your knees from training. Once all that was situated, you pulled on the long skirt and tucked in the bottom of your shirt, glad the way the high-waisted design sucked everything in. The skirt was the same golden brown as the cuffs, shorter in the front and wavy as it draped down the back, barely reaching your ankles. You tied the skirt’s belt in a tight bow and pulled on the black boots Shuri had also sent you. The heel was thick and short, and the boot was pretty tight around the top of your ankle. 
Time was ticking on that well-deserved goody basket you were meaning to send to the royal siblings. 
Hoop earrings, three rings dressing your left hand, a simple golden necklace - now you need to do your hair and make-up. 
Steve was just patiently waiting for his turn in the bathroom, bless his heart. 
     “Scott said the files are in his personal belongings. We suspect he’s planning to smuggle over fifty people tomorrow. Their records should be hidden away in those belongings, too.” 
Sam always kept a leveled head in dire situations like these. He was rational and helpful, always waited until the job was done and everyone was safe before he had a drink or a cry. It was safest, perhaps the most fair thing the Avengers could do for the public after destroying half the cities they fought in. The media didn’t need to know about the late-night fights, alcohol poisoning, or frequent therapy sessions. Your coping methods were all different - Steve has no doubt Sam will immediately pack an overnight bag and Bucky to visit his sister and nephews once the wedding concluded. 
Steve? Well, Steve was surprisingly calm, all things considered. 
“You get any hits yet? Anything from Ramirez that could help us find those people sooner?”
Sam sighs sadly, shaking his head. “It’s looking like we’re heading into a full-on fight.”
That’s not what Steve wanted to hear. A ‘full-on’ fight almost always had accidents, misfires, innocent casualties, and a few cuts and scrapes to add to his own personal collection. 
“Sam,” Steve puts down the files in his hand and shuts off his monitor to signal he’s done researching for the night. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”
“You know,” Sam smiles at him, “I’m gettin’ real tired hearin’ you say that.”
Steve huffs out a laugh. Sam gently exhales - Steve can feel it. 
“You two really are the same.” Sam points at Steve and to the bathroom door. “Always apologizing for shit you can’t control.”
Steve looks down to his feet, a blush in his pale cheeks. After failing to clip his cufflinks on his own, he holds his arms out to Sam who happily clips them for him. 
“Is it real?”
Steve pauses. He doesn’t really need to think about it because he knows. He’s known for a while even if he was on autopilot. The pause only serves to help him catch his breath from the happy prickle that crawls up his spine. “As real as second chances go.”
Sam laughs and claps his shoulder, “I get it. We seem to get a hell of a lotta those.”
��     Now that the mission was truly kicking into gear, fucking full speed ahead, Steve had no other choice but to pull shreds of Captain America from that metaphorical attic of his. Took everything in him to revert back, never fully, and each time would be different from the last. Sometimes it was mentally draining being responsible for a whole team and creating the plans, other times he regretfully felt like a colonizer, an intruder who followed orders from the top and was forced to execute them. This time around, he was stepping into uncharted territory, but still familiar, and he had a million roles to mime. 
“Steeeve.”
His smile was instant and he gravitated to your voice. “Hmm?”
“So, I have an idea for a hairstyle,” you reply, throwing open the bathroom door with a brush in one hand and the other holding the top layers of your hair up. “I got enough hair for it.”
“Tell me about it. It gets in the way of everything.”
“Haha.” You rolled your eyes, still trying to shovel more hair higher. “I curled it, so all I gotta do is tug this upper half up into a ponytail while the rest stays down. But can you help? My shoulders still hurt and I haven’t taken my advil yet.”
Steve shuffles back into the room to grab you two pills before he replaces his hands with yours. “So, just lift it up?”
You hum confirmation, watching Steve in the mirror as he pulled your thick curls higher, snapped the hair tie between his teeth, and tied it all. He pulled the strands outward so the high curls still fell around your face. The hairstyle would have been easier with extensions (for a much fuller look) but if you had to throw your body around these next two days, you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of having them pulled off. 
“Thank you,” you blush. These moments were so intimate, so sweet, just you and Steve. “You need any help?”
Steve looks down at himself. He had already tied his own tie. He could style his own hair and comb his beard. “I think I’m good. Forgot to pack cologne, though.”
“I’ve got some perfume in my suitcase. There should be one in there that isn’t too flowery.”
Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Not really a problem, doll.”
Pulling on his suit jacket and reaching for your suitcase to set it on the bed, he miscalculated the balance he was so obviously lacking. Instead of toppling head first himself, he fumbles your suitcase and spills its contents on your bed. He stills for a second, looking to the closed bathroom door to see if you popped your head through to ask what the hell that sound was. But it remained closed, and Steve silently groaned because of his clumsiness. 
He tries his best to roll the clothing items back in, cursing whenever he would accidentally squeeze a perfume bottle you had hidden in there. He counted three. The one he picks smells like roses.
Amongst the ruins he finds your passport, multiple IDs, and two pairs of sunglasses. He chuckles to himself and thinks, we’ve been here for four days and she hasn’t worn these once.
A torn piece of paper stood out from the pile, folded neatly in its own envelope but still damaged. 
     CLINT
Curious, Steve opens the envelope, wholeheartedly expecting to find the written contents from the archer himself, but pauses when he reads the simple sentence, in your handwriting. 
‘After careful deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that I want you to have all my video games.’
If Steve didn’t know any better, and judging by the multiple other letters peeking through the torn tape from the corner of your suitcase, it sounded like a goodbye letter.
“What’s taking so long?”
Startled, Steve shoves the letter under the pile of clothes. “Uh, my clumsy ass spilled your clothes everywhere so I’m being good and fixing everything.”
“...annoying.”
Still, you stayed inside the bathroom.
He glanced back just to make sure. And he knew he shouldn’t be snooping, the guilt was already eating away at him, but he now noticed the lump under the torn tape and another envelope poking through. 
They were all signed for different people. Bucky, Wanda, Peter, Rhodey - 
The devil on his shoulder drowned the cries of the angel. 
Opening his, he prays for his quick reading skills to aid him before you realized what he was doing.       
Steve, 
     Believe when I say that I thought I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…
I don’t really know why I’m writing these letters besides the thrill of morbidity for my untimely death or because I’m an amateur writer on the side. I never know what to say to you, anyway. Whether it’s in person or on paper. I’ve got a hundred drawn-up speeches in my head I almost say to you. But they don’t come out when I want them to and it seems a bit much to write out the words to several imaginary crumpled pieces of paper. 
This will have to do. 
Steve, I know for a fact, deep in whatever soul I have left, that you are a good man. 
When the world fell apart, I held on to you. I don’t know why. Natasha bugged me about it, sent me those signature smirks of hers whenever we did anything remotely weird. She believed something was going on between us and I would get so angry with her because it was like she saw something I couldn’t. And I wanted to see it. Wrap it up for myself and live in the softness.
You slept by my side when I would ask, you let me look through your private sketchbook to help ease my mind, and you would jump at every chance to shield me from danger. Even when you know I can take care of myself. I don't know how many times I have to remind you. 
I don’t understand why you shut me out after we brought our friends back. And at the time, it hurt like hell. I literally wanted to kill you and then myself. It made no sense, it still doesn’t. I won’t lie and say it still surprises me or that it no longer hurts. ‘Cause I’m numb to it now and the pain is more of a dull ache. 
But I guess you had your reasons, no matter how hurtful, how ridiculous, no matter how stupid. 
Fuck, why didn’t you get some of that life Tony had always wanted for you? The question eats me alive. Maybe you did move on, maybe you would miss us too much, I truly don’t know. When you confessed to wanting some form of that life when we rescued Wanda, it just confused me more.
Then my father basically declared war and you cut me out. I can’t help but think you stayed behind to help me finish this, what with that righteous streak of yours, but if it is the case, then I am so sorry. 
You deserve to live, Steve. 
Guess what I really want to close with is this: find that life you always wanted. Buy a boat, or a cabin in the secluded woods and become a lumberjack, travel, open your own art museum - hell, erase all traces of your identity and sell painted landscapes for a living. 
In any form you find it, just try. You know I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be. 
There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you. 
With as much love in me, 
    The swirl of your name leaves him disoriented, and slightly paralyzed. Steve licks the envelope closed.    
     Steve puts the very existence and contents of your letter to the back of his mind for the time being. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, no time to dissect it word for word. He’ll focus on it later. He still doesn’t know what reaction he should be experiencing. The letter was unexpected, yes, but it’s the matter of you writing a goodbye letter - as if you weren’t going to make it out of here alive. And that about saws Steve in two. 
Steve thinks the elevator comes too fast and wonders what he could do to stop time. The mics on your neck generate enough noise for you to hear the static on the other end. No one is currently online, and Steve cherishes the little moments he’s getting before having to transition into ‘Captain America’ mode. 
There wasn’t much time today to truly bask in the afterglow. The moment the elevator opens Steve literally drags you inside and captures your lips in a rather chaste kiss. It surprises you momentarily but you’re responding, and it’s fluid and familiar. The kiss is brief, but it feels as if your years mold into this single act, and Steve’s smiling wider than he has today when the first thing you say as you part is that maybe you chose the wrong shade of lipstick because it looks too damn dark on his lips.
The elevator reaches the ground floor and he looks over at you one last time in the privacy you’re afforded. He’s got that good ache in his chest again and it’s both calming and a little bittersweet, because staring at you is like staring at the sun - it hurts to look at for a long time but oh, so tempting. 
   The lawn was separated into two halves with only one fully decorated and the other still under a tarp, hidden because it was mid-construction and to not spoil the surprise. Over to the side, just left of the large lake, there was an extra tarp the workers were manning in case the clouds in the sky decided to cry. 
Jackeline had chosen violet as her main color scheme, with golden hues stitched alongside. The flowers, soft lights, marble floor, and desserts were all violet; the curtains and tarps, plates and glasses, flowers on the wall, and Jackeline’s rehearsal dress were all gold. Ernesto must have spent over a million dollars in the decorations alone. 
Everyone donned their best designers and since only family was in attendance today, the little amount of people were easily outdone one right after the other. In total, there were fifteen guests, and that included you and Steve: Ernesto, Seda, the groom’s father, Jackeline’s mother, two of your half-brothers, three aunts (sister’s of Ernesto), two cousins, the maid of honor, and Marcus White. 
They have already fawned over Steve, some with a major guard up as expected, but as Ernesto explains the specifics, everyone becomes more pleased than weary. ‘It was just too good to be true that the Avengers were all good’, someone announces. Steve grips your hand just a little tighter. 
The mere absence of Ramirez was enough of an answer: he really was going to be eliminated.
Across from your private corner, cheers and claps sound as the happy couple finally emerges. Even your father leaves mid-conversation to go greet her. 
She’s a fifties masterpiece. Her dark hair cascades in uneven but gentle layers, framing her face and she’s both glossy and matte. Her skin is darker and her eyebrows are fuller, widow’ peak and strong jaw, thin neck and perfectly rounded shoulders. She has a painted blush on her high cheekbones, dark eyeshadow and a faint cat eye, and the reddest, fullest lips that are already spitting wit as she greets her more serious guests. Her voice is high but steady and she’s so obviously the center of attention, she’s the literal bride, but you bet she could take over the room even if she wasn’t. Her fiancé, surprisingly enough, trails behind her as if he too is in a trance, greeting the same guests and attempting to match her enthusiasm. She’s making herself known, and she’s succeeding.
It isn’t until she locks her sight on you that Steve finally mumbles a quiet ‘woah’ underneath a shaky breath and you can’t blame him, dear god you can’t, because seeing her for the first time in six years is eating away at you. She’s nineteen, young and sweet, and still trapped in the world you were planning to destroy.   
Her first reaction is to run into your arms and hold you tightly, the force swinging you from side to side. Her giggles are contagious and you find yourself reacting similarly, grip tightening as she begins to ramble about how much she missed you and how proud she is that you have saved the world ten times over. The statement is overwhelming, but you find yourself nodding along in place of anything verbal.
Steve is patient as he witnesses this family reunion, standing at your side with respect and a tint of scarlet staining his cheeks. Finally, Jackeline turns to greet him and for a scary second, Steve sees Peggy.
“No way!” She keeps her voice low. “I could have sworn my bit-... uh, my bunch of tias were lying about you really being here.”
Steve shakes the fifties image from his head. The resemblance, even if Jackeline has more slanted eyes and a larger forehead, is uncanny. “Thank you so much for inviting us. The ride up was a bitch but we made the most of it.”
Jackeline stutters over her own laugh. “Oh.” She looks to you with a wide grin. “Oh, he’s a keeper.”
“Thought so myself,” you grin back. “You should hear him swear during a football game.”
“All men turn into animals when their teams don’t live up to expectations.”
Her accent is thicker than yours. Living in New York for over 10 years definitely helped smooth over some dialect and create your own voice. But Jackeline’s, considering she had never lived outside of Mexico, was thick and silky and resembled a place you no longer called home.
She pulls the man behind her forward, effectively interrupting and ending the conversation he was having with one of your cousins. “This is Julian. Julian, this is my one and only sister and her boyfriend!”
Julian, bless his heart, holds out a slightly shaking hand for you to shake. You do so, and try to convey calmness through it. When you watch his glance fall to Steve and feel his hand start to shake yours more rapidly, you can’t help but stifle a laugh.
“It’s an honor!” Julian finally says, voice deep and wracked with some nerves. He shakes Steve’s hand when he gets the chance. “Captain.”
“Please,” Jackeline rolls her eyes. “He’s just like us! You should be swooning over my sister, who is probably going to be the one to kill you if you ever hurt me.”
Julian blinks. His eyes go from Steve to you, contemplating his next move without wanting to seem rude. He nods in your direction. “I don’t doubt you would. Excuse me if I came off as rude. I’m just starstruck by this one here, is all.”
His accent matches Jackeline’s.
Steve waves his hand through the air. “You are not the first tonight, son.”
Sometimes you forget that Steve is an old man. Biologically, he’s in his mid-thirties. Ever changing and growing old as normal, but his soul is old. From a different time and out of it. The mere nickname he just gave Julian, no doubt because of his young age, leaves you averting your eyes and turning away to smile up at one of the many golden chandeliers.
“I really hope you enjoy tonight. The party may seem small right now, but trust me, half of Mexico will be dancing with us tomorrow night.” Jackeline bounces in place, hand intertwining with Julian’s, and she leans in to speak more clearly with you. “Meet me later? We have so much to catch up on.”
Agreeing, you watch the happy couple leave to converse with the few other guests.
Steve turns toward you, eyes squinted in amusement. “Is she really cheating on him with a man of the cloth?”
You can’t help the involuntary snort that leaves your nose. “The photos were watermarked, right? Time stamped? Maybe they’re old.”
Steve huffs a laugh and grabs two champagne glasses as the tray flies by him. “She’s got a way about her. Reminds me of a dame from this book I read a while back.”
Sipping your drink, you ponder. “What book?”
“The one where the dude gets shot at the end.”
“Oh, you mean every book from the 20th century?”
Steve laughs, “That twenties one!”
Mouth dropping, you push at his chest and turn to walk away. “You did not just compare her to Daisy from The Great Gatsby!”
Steve follows. “That’s the one! Honest! She has this way about her!”
    It’s not long after a few dances and photographs that you’re all seated for the actual dinner. There are three long tables, two parallel to each other and the main one perpendicular. You don’t know if it’s a power move or whatever, but your name cards are placed on one of the parallel tables. But it doesn’t bother you much since you have a front view of Seda and your father. 
Dinner is a six-course meal. Not that you assumed any different - Ernesto really went all out for his youngest child (that you know of). Your mics are picking up conversations left and right so you’re actually able to enjoy the meal. Salad, soup, a weird looking appetizer that’s actually quite delicious, the main course of either chicken/fish/or steak, and two desserts. All throughout, Steve is actually having the time of his life being fed so well. 
“Answer me this,” Steve leans in to whisper in your ear. “Are those hearts or paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling?”
You smiled against the ridge of your champagne glass, “You mean those clay flowers?”
“Is that what they are?” He pauses for a long second, squinting.
“Are your eyes going bad?” 
“Eyes don’t go bad.”
Your mouth falls open. “Your eyes are going bad!”
“Again,” Steve holds up a finger. “My eyes are just fine, not bad.”
Something else to add to that list you had made in the morning.
“This is fucking fantastic.”
Steve, still trying to casually squint, huffs. “Annoying...”
You bump his shoulder and lean in to whisper quietly. “Turns you on.”
Steve just blushes.
    It’s like he forgets where he is for a second, what with the great food and surprisingly good conversation with one of your brothers beside him. Steve’s already built a much stronger rapport with the thirty-something year old man than you have. There’s a stab of guilt for a second, a need to duck and drown in shame, when you realize you can’t even remember his name.
Ernesto stands to announce toasts. His is brief and not all that fatherly, but it’s the longest you’ve heard him string some nice words together. Seda follows, brief as well, and includes a childhood anecdote about her. Jackeline’s mother is a young woman, somewhere between forty and fifty, and her toast is only a sentence long - ‘Solo quiero que estas contenta, mi amor.’ For the first time tonight, Bucky voices his thoughts over the mic with a quiet and sad sounding hum.
Ernesto lifts himself from his chair, swatting away his men who go to help him. He has the microphone again and he’s walking toward you, face neutral. You know better than to refuse in front of this big of a crowd. Steve squeezes your hand before you stand and he remains beaming up at you from his seat. 
You’ve seen it in the movies - raise the glass, say some words, end it nicely. It’s what you do. But it feels surreal, almost unnerving when you don’t recognize the faces looking back at you. 
     “Here’s to you,” you lift your champagne glass, looking around at the happy yet solemn faces at the small table. 
“You deserve all the happiness available to you. You are so lucky to have each other,” you finish the toast and drink your whole glass. There is no applause, just sad smiles in response. You’re not asking for much, you never had.
Tony and Pepper share a quick kiss, thanking everyone around the table quickly as the two cakes are being cut. Their wedding was limited, with only a few people in attendance. Whoever was left. Tony’s cabin could obviously accommodate more people, but he had only requested the gathering of those he could stomach to see. But when that turned out to only be Pepper and Happy, he was forced to open the doors to more. 
So, you accepted your chocolate cake from Rhodey as he handed it to you. Shared some quick chit-chat with Steve and Natasha; greeted Thor as he made his first appearance in a while, hair now longer and baggy clothes hanging from his body, a tortured smile on his aging face; and sat through Happy’s own speech, enjoying his refreshing and joyful attitude. 
But now you stood in front of the kitchen sink, staring at the hidden picture frame behind the mugs - a reminder of what was really missing from this special day. 
You studied Peter’s awkward smile and demeanor, his expression youthful and frozen in time. He became foggy, silver clouds blotting his cheeks and his hair went white, and soon the sink sounded with a tiny ‘clunk!’ as you wept silently. 
You felt a hand slide into your own, squeezing with care and understanding. You looked up to see Steve, his eyes watching your face. He gave you one more gentle squeeze, the same tortured smile as Thor’s on his beautiful face, and walked to his room to retire for the night. 
     Glass raised in the air, you swallow in hopes of not choking over any word because of your nerves. 
“Here’s to you,” you start, already deciding this was going to be like pulling a band-aid. “May this world treat you kind, and that you are kind to each other, and that it’s all that matters.”
Steve forgets to drink. He can’t seem to shake the feeling of wanting to cry.
     Everyone watches as Steve leads you onto the dance floor which is intimidating with its glittering violet light and marble that resembles polished glass. If these were the decorations for the rehearsal dinner, Steve can’t even begin to bet on how tomorrow’s going to look. 
Steve holds you close, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other framing your spine. It’s like a tight hug. “Do you enjoy dancing?”
You step on his foot once again. “Shut up, Steve. Tell me your real thoughts.”
“Who, me?”
“Steve.”
“You suck at dancing.”
“There it is.”
     It isn’t hard to sneak away once everyone piles onto the dance floor. Steve shares a few dances with your aunts before excusing himself to use the bathroom. 
The mission itself goes rather smoothly. Infiltrating and collecting information was childsplay. Amateur. You’ve done it a thousand times and your father isn’t exactly a tech wizard. Neither is Seda. 
You find the electronic bank records Scott couldn’t yesterday, as well as a detailed spreadsheet (more like a hitlist) dating ten years back. In the same file, this actually only slightly encrypted (slightly), are the names of high-level players involved. It’s color-coded, some names familiar because of their involvement with Hydra, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you notice that red means eliminated, black means still at large, and blue means ally. 
There’s a lump in your throat as you scroll through and find Steve’s name, thankfully in blue. It’s expected, so you simply move on, until you find yours. And it’s in black. 
It should terrify you, have you running for the hills and tucking your tail between your legs but you’re won’t because Steve’s name is blue. 
That’s all that matters. 
There’s still no concrete information about the shipment, nothing online or on a loose post-it note. It’s non-existent and that’s suspicious and you don’t know why you don’t voice that to Steve. He’s listening at the door and responding to Sam’s questions. You and Scott are the hackers of the group after all. 
You scan through drawers and cabinets, snapping photos of things you can’t take just yet and filing the papers you can. Papers detailing contracts and miscellaneous connections: lawyers, doctors, politicians, police. Once that’s done, you shrink the evidence to the size of a fingernail with the help of Scott’s tech and hide it in your bra. 
Surprisingly enough, the two of you are able to slip out of the office and the first couple living rooms undetected. Until Jackeline herself appears, pulling down her dress as she exits the bathroom. Steve, stunned by the presence of anyone, pulls you toward his chest with unfocused strength. You hiss loudly and naturally go to cup your injured elbow. It takes a moment for Steve to realize what he’s done and who he’s done it to. 
Jackeline nearly stumbles over her heels out of pure clumsiness but her mouth parts as she notices you and the harsh sound you make. If she truly saw or heard anything, she’s keeping it to herself it seems. 
“Ernesto wanted to see me before we called it a night,” Steve says, letting go of your arm and taking a step back. He doesn’t outright say he’s sorry; he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. So he braves a smile, sends you a look, and excuses himself. 
No conversation ever comes naturally - or, rather they take at least minimal effort from either party. You say the first thing you can think of and that’s to congratulate her again. 
Your rambling sort of sounds like the toast you gave earlier, but Jackeline either doesn’t want to embarrass you or simply doesn’t notice. She waits for the pause in your voice before she finally speaks.
“Before I start, don’t hate me for this.”
“That’s not a good way to start a sente-” Your face is smacked to the side absurdly hard and you can feel the sting at the base of your neck. You look back at your sister with wide eyes.
“You couldn’t leave the world dead? He was finally dead!”
Baffled, you rub at your sore cheek. “Why am I the one getting the most blame for that? I followed a fucking raccoon around and I didn’t even snap my fingers!”
“Sorry,” she blinks, eyebrows scrunching as she thinks of the next thing to say. “Sorry, I just… it was that easy to kill him and then he just… wasn’t.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but you were also dead.”
“I was.”
“And we brought back trillions.”
“I know.”
Never once did you wonder what your siblings might have thought. More than half of them were separated from this life, while a few remained and conquered their allowed sectors. Ernesto had never discussed which of his children would take over his seat. But when he was dusted and Seda assumed power, it was clear not one sibling wanted anything to do with it. Or they were just too scared to outright disobey Seda and his tyranny.
Jackeline stands tall, shoulders straight and chin held high. She didn’t seem to worry about the repercussions of her actions - she knows who you are and what you are capable of. The smack seemed deliberate but restrained.
“So?” It’s the only word you can muster up.
“Please don’t judge me.” Her confidence falters and her eyebrows push down even further. “I know you know.”
“You gotta spell it out because I know a lot of things.”
Sighing deeply, she grabs the hand you’re using to rub at your cheek. She grips it tightly as she speaks. “I love him. But he’s impossible to love now and I can’t do anything about it.”
“Oh, Jackeline…”
You could have contacted her. You were on social media - you could have followed her, maybe messaged her annually - hell, called her once in a while to simply check in. The ticket you got was always a temporary one: go to school and find a way to make the trade routes easier to travel. School finished, you found Fury, and you created an alternate identity and background plan to trick your family into doing just what they ordered. And during all that time, Jackeline was barely in her pre-teens, probably scared and alone and missing her only sister. This was just you throwing that smack out of proportion but there was truth in it all. Wasn’t there?
“Julian’s okay. I agreed to this arranged marriage. I’m sure I can grow to love him,” she shrugs, biting her lip as it begins to quiver.
Her eyes are no longer happy - perhaps that was the wrong word to use after she had just confided in you about the reality of her upcoming union. But they definitely seem more dull in comparison to the joyfulness she presented earlier tonight.
“Jackeline, you don’t have to-”
“No, I was gone those five years. He had to move on.” You drop your shoulders and lean forward to give her a hug. No matter how badly you wanted to wrap your hands around Ernesto’s neck, they had more use tenderly wrapped around your sister. 
Relishing the feeling for only a moment longer, Jackeline is ignited once again. “Besides, I should be telling you that! I saw the way that… that fascist pulled you. If he’s hurting you, I’ll kill him.”
Your eyes must be bulging out of your head. “Oh.” 
She looks at you as if you’re going to admit abuse and confide in her like she did you. “No, it’s okay. Steve’s perfect, he’s… wonderful.”
Jackeline shakes her head rapidly, “Don’t you lie to me. I know what I saw.”
“I’m not lying. But you gotta trust me. I’ll explain later-”
“Explain what?”
Seda breaks the conversation and you forget to curse inwardly. Instead, a mumbled ‘fuck’ is heard. It only serves to fuel the flame. Jackeline flashes a rehearsed smile, and she truly is your sister because for a sad moment she looks exactly like you.
“Explain why she never returned my calls to be my maid of honor! I swear, this one is always so busy she forgets I exist!”
“She is,” Seda agrees, grinning like he already knows what the original conversation was about. “Always busy.” 
Jackeline keeps the same smile and is about to continue fanning the flames when Seda interrupts again. “Jackie, your father wanted me to speak with your sister alone for a moment. It has to do with tomorrow’s shipment.”
“Yes, of course. Don’t keep her for too long, okay? Tomorrow’s a late start but we all need our beauty sleep.” Jackeline leaves and fails to look over her shoulder to double check on you.
Seda steps closer, arms swinging casually like he’s pondering the possibilities of what he could do without Steve present. But instead of focusing solely on him, you listen to the soft sound of Bucky’s voice through the mic as he tells you that he’s listening in and he’s here.
“What did she say to you?”
“Is it really any of your business?”
He snaps immediately, gripping your cheeks in one hand so you can’t move your head. “When will you learn to keep your goddamn mouth shut around me?”
“You asked.” Smacking his hand away would have been frowned upon before, but not anymore. Free reign if need be. “Besides, when will you learn that that will never happen?”
“You can’t believe anything she tells you. Ernesto’s only two daughters are mistakes, both threats to his reign. Never submissive, always asking questions-”
You grunt almost comically, “Men and their irrational fears of women… What did I ever do to you?”
He pauses and you notice how his angry eyes always seem to water from his frustration. “You brought him back.”
“I also brought back trillions.”
“You know,” his face does something unpleasant. “Before Jackeline was dusted, she had been seeing that priest.”
“How could you possibly know-”
“He was so devastated by her loss. Found God, became a changed man.”
“Seda, what are you playing at?”
“She came back.” He lifts one finger. “He couldn’t resist.” He raises another. “Didn’t take long for Ernesto to find out.” The third one is the last, and he mimics a small explosion as he concludes. “But don’t worry, we took care of him.”
You never once believed the Devil was this angry, red demon with horns atop his head and a sharp tail, voice booming as he ruled the underworld with the weapons of pain and suffering. He didn’t possess or haunt random places. If anything, the Devil himself was simply a metaphor, a representation of the evil in a living world. It only made people comfortable to create an image, no matter how ridiculous.
Once you even thought the Devil was Hades, and he wasn’t all that bad when it truly came down to the root of all problems. He oversaw the underworld but he didn’t take life, he didn’t cause the pain, he simply watched and ruled. That maybe Hades was real considering Thor was, and he was just chilling in the underworld bored out of his mind.
But the evil the Devil represented was a constant in this world already, in your life from start to finish, and Seda’s eyes held something unspeakable. Dark brown eyes almost black, left cheek twitching with the urge to smile grotesquely, the tense nature of his broad shoulders. He was no massive man, a few inches taller than you, but he was a giant in a world in which Hades lacked and the Devil persisted.
“But Julian-”
Seda scoffs, “Julian was her rebound. Got mixed up in the business, with Ernesto  - but I don’t doubt he loves Jackeline.”
You’re this close to breaking the man’s fingers. He doesn’t stop counting his supposed triumphs. “When were the pictures taken?”
“Don’t do that,” he laughs as he finally steps away from you. “Ask your real question.”
Your smile was involuntary. So was Seda’s. It was the one thing you had in common: smiling at things that weren’t funny. “Did you threaten him? Torture him? Kill him yet?”
“... Jackeline will never know.”
Your mouth parts slowly like you’re still digesting his words. “You unimaginable bastard.”
If you had to bet, you would have placed all your money on Ernesto being the giant to fear. He had hurt you in countless ways, used you and discarded what he didn’t like, put you in the line of fire for his own gain. He had taken pleasure in knowing you hurt, in knowing what you had lost and suffered. He mocked your sacrifice time and time again. And there was a sentence you had never uttered out loud for fear of what you might do, or what anyone hearing you might do, that Ernesto had said one chilly November night only a year after the world returned. It was a thought so suppressed you almost always forgot it had been real. ‘A shame the Widow did what she did - what an unbelievable asset wasted over something pointless.’
No one outside your circle could possibly understand. They didn’t have to - but to dismiss the main reason he was retaking his tainted throne... insanity. 
But something in Seda’s voice moved even the most dormant areas in your soul. The giant was a man with nothing and everything to lose but with the power to choose which. Staring at him for too long prompted an uncomfortable sting across your waterline like his glare burned. Such a normal looking man with short dark hair and an aging face. He stared at you with a set look, one that told you he knew something you didn’t. Like he controlled giants even bigger than him. He wasn’t Hades, who restrained himself and hid in the shadows of a world he was forced to rule - he was the Devil’s metaphor, with red strains licking his tan skin and eyes sharp enough to puncture.
With a small tilt of his head and a strangled grin, he finally turns to leave. “Have a safe drive home.”
     After saying a quick goodbye to Jackeline and securing the estate, you hurried to get to your car and leave. Ernesto had just sent you a quick nod of the head and reminded Steve he needed to see him again before the wedding started. All your leftover energy literally went into pulling open the passenger door. 
Out of instinct now, you wait until the car is past the gates and a good mile from the hidden entrance before speaking freely.
“We get everything?”
The night is dark and you can barely see the outline of the trees. The sky is covered with gray clouds and there are no lampposts to provide light. It’s really just your headlights. “I think so. I think.”
Steve can sense the hesitancy in your answer. “What’s wrong?”
You shake with an exaggerated shiver, “Seda was being creepy… just more than usual.”
“What do you mean?” Steve was probably communicating and online with Sam during his conversation with Ernesto and completely missed the one you had with Seda.
“Fuckin’ didn’t think it could get weirder, but Jackeline mentioned how this was basically an arranged marriage and then Seda,” you stop suddenly. The uneasiness was creeping back. 
“An arranged marriage? Fuck, what else is this mission going to throw at us?”
‘Captain?’
Steve’s hands accidentally swerve the steering wheel as response to the small fright. “... Was that your phone or mine?”
You fumbled through your mini purse for your phone. “Me. Hey? Friday?”
‘The one and only. I hope that didn’t frighten you because I really need your attention right about now.’
Steve chuckles, eyes straight ahead as he drives. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”
‘My readings are picking up something strange. The vehicle, even if I’m not able to virtually connect, seems to be stalling.’ Torres did curse you two before you left for renting a car made before 2013.
“What do you mean? It’s working just fine.” 
You set your phone down on the dash to start looking around the interior of the car.
‘The pedal, yes Captain. But I’m afraid my readings are focused on the brakes.’
You bite your tongue and scrunch up your nose. What else could possibly happen tonight? “That’s always fun to hear, great. Greaaaat.”
“Friday, what are you picking up?” Steve’s voice is more stern and even if he’s not doing it on purpose, he’s trying to ignore your coping mechanism of joking during dire situations.
‘It seems that when they took the vehicle for parking, they attached something to the brake lines. Sort of like a trigger sensor. Do not slow down.’
“We’re stuck? We can’t stop?”
‘Everytime the Captain de-accelerates, the sensor heats up. That’s what my readings are.’
“Fuck,” you unclipped your seatbelt and turned your body toward Steve. “Fuck!”
“Friday, what do we do?” The least Steve could do is be the level-headed one here.
‘Exactly what you’re thinking, Captain. The shield’s in the trunk.’
“We can’t exactly get to it!” You don’t mean to scream at Friday. You’re sure she’s used to adrenaline induced attacks guided toward her and never about her.
‘The burners were produced by Stark Industries for our very own spy unit. They are equipped with a taser, flashlight, and laser.’
Jumping so your feet were planted firmly on the passenger seat, you make sure everything is in place: the stolen files, your gun, your phone, and earpiece. “Keep your foot on that pedal, Rogers. I don’t feel like blowing up tonight.”
He releases a shaky breath, hands turning pale from the grip he has on the steering wheel. “You and me both.”
“Friday?” Your voice is only slightly timid, but you manage to move your body out from the front seats and to the back.
‘The laser, Agent Y/LN. Cut through the seats.’
Nodding along to her instructions, you search for the burner under your skirt and unstrap it from the holster. Pulling its ancient antenna outward, Friday verbally guides you through the very simple instruction. The laser blasts out unexpectedly at first making you squeal, which in turn causes Friday (a literal AI) to chuckle. You’re thankful the antenna was facing the back seats already.
“Doing good back there?”
You respond with a low grunt as you carefully carve out the largest rectangle you can create. “You better have shoved the thing close. Any stop signs up ahead?”
Steve’s getting worried now, but instead of putting you more on edge, he hides it pretty well. “Thank god this place is in the middle of nowhere.”
You don’t even give his response acknowledgement as you finally pull the leather, metal, and weird cushion filling away and spot the shield. “I got it, got it, got it.”
‘My sensors suggest you��ll have a good five seconds to escape the vehicle once the Captain releases the pedal.’
You make sure your hair is in the tightest ponytail known to man and that your skirt is bunched up in your free arm. You strap the shield onto the other. “Steve, you gonna be alright?”
His eyes are still focused on the road, but he braves a look in the mirror back at you. His voice is stern but not demanding. “I know you hate the damn shield but bend your legs, jump sideways, and tuck your head.”
“Yeah,” you nod along. Damn straight you’ll put your hate aside for one second if it’s here to save your life. “You better jump on time, you understand me?”
“Sam,” Steve keeps the speed steady and tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding from the sound of you kicking open the back door. “Sam, Widow. Widow.”
Before you jump, the asphalt a never ending, rapid glare of absolute darkness, you leave your phone on the seat in case Steve still needs her. “Friday, send Sam and Torres our location. They’re the only ones who can fly in undetected. Tell them what you told us.”
‘Will do, Agent Y/LN.’
“Be careful.”
You smirk at him, “Don’t be a hero and crash this one into the ice, yeah?”
You don’t wait for his reaction and instead take the plunge. The shield makes a hard impact with the asphalt down below, screeching for what seems like an eternity before slowing down. You did as instructed: knees tucked into your chest as far as you were able, head doing the same. By the time the ride finally ends and you’ve gone partially deaf, you can make out the sound of a loud explosion a close distance away. The heat from the sudden burst of wind nips at your face. You’ve also gone partially blind. 
Your poor boots are definitely ruined and there’s a faint tell of a bruised ankle in the works. The arm attached to the shield will also need to be popped back into place - it shouldn’t feel this loose. Luckily, your head and torso were completely unscathed. 
Lifting yourself up the best you could without straining anything too much, you noticed the car still in flames but driven off the road. 
“He jumped, he jumped, he jumped,” you repeat, limping as quickly as you could, shield still attached to your arm. The closer you get the clearer everything becomes, regardless of the smoke. “Steve.”
You squint through the orange light and the dark of night. The fire wasn’t all that loud in its crackles and it doesn’t take you long to realize while tapping your ears that you lost your earpiece. 
“Steve,” you try again, adrenaline still pumping but panic seeping in. As if on cue, you can make out his body laying far away from the car relatively unharmed. “Ah, shit.” You drop down on your knees and wince involuntarily. Slapping his cheeks doesn’t wake him up, neither does gently shaking him. You don’t want to do anything to hurt him more. 
The sound of gravel popping kicks you back into spy mode. Hide. This was a hit, of course it was, and they were coming to see their job done. 
“You so owe me,” you groan as you unstrap the shield to throw it into the woods, the faint tell of it hitting a tree enough to make you work faster. You hook your arms underneath Steve’s armpits and bend your knees, breathing in deeply and out a few times before pulling him with all your strength. There’s pain shooting up your arm but you try to ignore it. Small whimpers escape you as you pull harder and finally make it a good distance from the wreckage. You sit Steve, still unconscious, behind one of those massive pine trees and sit next to him after retrieving the shield. 
It’s only two black SUV’s that come to check their hard work. They’re bending down and using their own fire extinguishers, snapping their own photos, the works. It isn’t until Seda walks over to admire the wreckage that you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. 
You’re seated in front of Steve now with the shield in front of you when a sudden movement to your left startles you. Before you scream, however, a hand covers your mouth. 
“Shh, shh.” Sam. Your eyes fill with tears. 
“I’ve got him. Torres is coming for you, alright? I’m the only one who can carry him out.”
It doesn’t take much to convince you. You’re silently helping Sam strap Steve against his chest as Seda and his men are now investigating the woods. You can hear them close, cursing and yelling about finding you. 
“Go a little further. Down there,” Sam points in front of you. “Torres is parked and waiting. Go.”
“Don’t drop him.” Sam stifles his laugh. 
You follow his directions, limping as quickly as you can, and finally find Torres, your second knight in shining armor of the night. 
    After an all clear from the medical team, Steve is left alone in your hotel room to rest. He still hasn’t woken up but Helen isn’t worried since his scans show no major damage. Small talk with the rest of the team fills in the time but it’s like you’re not really there, merely a participant on a loop. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you’re covered in scratches and smoky ash and you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kill something. 
Your father wanted you dead. And showing up to the wedding was just going to anger him more but it had to be done. But you were tired, so fucking tired, tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep or rest.
You let your hair down but stay in your tattered clothing, making yourself useful as best you can. You answer questions, you review footage, you draft up some reports. Bucky tries to sit you down at one point, but he backs off when you simply shake your head and give him that famous broken smile. 
You’re sitting at your desk trying to save some of your phone’s cloud through the connected email. Sam has already ordered you a new phone. On the computer to your left, you’re scanning and uploading the files you stole tonight. On the right, your little butterfly is transcribing conversations from yesterday. 
The transcription is finished before the uploads. It prints. 
SEDA: ‘Ernesto needs to know how many more women we can get from Jonathon. I thought you said your Italian contact was up to date?’
UNKNOWN: ‘He is. But the women are coming from here instead. Got a load of ten just now.’
SEDA: ‘The shipment goes out during the wedding. Not before, not after. We can’t fuck this up for Ernesto and we cannot have the stars and stripes finding out.’
UNKNOWN: ‘Ernesto plans to mention it to him tomorrow.’
SEDA: ‘Then make sure he keeps quiet about it.’
The bitter taste in your mouth returns and you have to run to the nearest bathroom.
     Steve wakes just an hour after, disoriented but able to discern who he is. “What happened?”
You’re standing at the foot of his bed, having just got there a few minutes before, practically on the verge of tears. “... Did you know?”
There it was. Any hope of truly coming to terms with this new world order or his role in it, any hope of feeling like he did before he succumbed to the American war propaganda and became a science experiment, crumbling before him. The heavy weight that were your shoulders, crumbling like shaky mountains. His own, tense and straining and urging him to get out of bed. 
He’s been in the trenches when the smell of gas and blood clogged his nostrils and made him dizzy. He’s experienced loss a thousand times over, just heinous instances of despair where he swore he was torn in two. He’s lost on his own accord and pretended like the world was still on its axis. 
And he knew his time was up. He just thought he’d have more than a day to enjoy it.  “I was going to tell you.”
It’s like the air is punched out of you. “You knew?”
“Please, listen, please,” he scrambles out of bed.
“What the fuck, Rogers?”
“Ramirez told us yesterday. I swear I only found out yesterday. Yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” You’re stepping away from him. He’s almost on his hands and knees and you’re stepping away from him. “Before?”
Steve makes a pained noise. “Yes, but please-”
“No! You kept this to yourself and you had the fucking audacity to share the same bed as me?”
“Please, let me explain-” He tries to reach out but you side-step him. He reacts like you’ve shot him.
“Don’t touch me, Steve!”
“Please, just let me explain. We all know - Bucky, Sam, Torres, we all know.”
Your face does something he’s never seen it do. “Fuck?”
He’s talking faster now, words just spilling on the floor and into the air and he doesn’t know what else to do. “We’re tracking it. We have a plan set. We were supposed to tell you tomorrow before the wedding.” He stops to take in a breath. “I was going to tell you.”
“You went behind my back.”
“If I would have told you, you would have done something horrible tonight! We need your father alive to find those people!”
Eyes wide in shock and anguish, you step further away from him. Each step was the equivalent of a dagger plunging deep into Steve’s heart, twisting and burning its way to the depths of his vulnerability. He wanted to succumb to the pain - after all, he deserved it.
“That would have been my choice to make!”
Now he pushed forward, shoulders hunched and palms turned upward as if he was pleading for a crumb of understanding. “I was gonna kill him.”
He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist. You remained perfectly still, a tree stump with no cover. “I was gonna shoot him between the eyes when I first found out. But if I had done that, then we would never know the location of those people.”
His weight was pulling you down and you felt his wet cheek against your stomach. “I deserved to know.”
His grip tightened, “You did. But if you would have known-”
“I would have known. Period.”
He had to know how much he weighed. But Steve leaned his body onto yours harder, afraid you would vanish and god forbid turn to dust. It didn’t really register in his mind that, even though he was holding you in place, you weren’t exactly trying to escape his hold either. 
He had let you go once and he’ll be goddamned if he let you go again. 
“It ate me alive. I hated doing this-”
You pushed against his shoulders and sensed his reluctance to let go. Instead, you look down at him and tense your jaw. “Steve, you don’t hate me, do you?”
His face dropped and his grip loosened. You should just slap him across the face, Steve thinks, because how in the world were you thinking that at this moment? Never did he think you would find a way to twist this - to somehow blame yourself for his mistake. Took a long time to see it, but you were just as righteous as he was. It would get you both killed someday. 
“Why do you think that? What in the world would make you think that after all this time? After everything?”
He lets you push him away so he could stand but he makes sure to keep his hands on you. A tangible promise that you are real. 
“You agreed to help me catch a drug lord. You didn’t sign up for this extra mess.”
“We may not always know what we’re up against,” Steve began, sniffing and wiping at his wet face. God, he felt like such a mess. “But I could never fucking hate you. Don’t even think that.”
“You sure?” your voice cracks, hands slightly shaking from the need to touch him too. “Captain America didn’t sign up for this.”
He shakes his head almost violently, “No, no. Don’t go there. I am not him, I haven’t been him in a long time.”
“Steve-”
“No! I’ve hated the title for a while now. I’m done. I’ve hated my reflection for years and years.” The tiny whine in the middle of your throat gurgled and your hands moved instantly to cup his cheeks.  “I represent no one but myself. I’m tired of others thinking I’m the same man from ten years ago, or the same man from the forties, or the same man from last week just because they’re enamored by that star on my chest.”
He tilts his head to lean into your touch, “I am helping you because it’s the honorable thing to do. I signed up for this work, I intend to finish it. Not Captain America, but me - Steve, me.”
“You’re still making me feel like it’s something you have to do.”
“I admit that I was never overly fond of the idea of being wrapped up in this,” Steve admits, hands now cupping yours over his cheeks. “But toppling this empire will keep you safe.”
As heartwarming as that sounded, you broke the fantasy. “The minute we take the giants out, they’ll elect someone new.”
“But we take the giants out. The giants that hurt you.”
He’s right, like always. 
“Steve,” you say quietly, bringing his face closer to kiss away his tears. You’re struggling to keep the tippy-toes and your ankle is screaming for a break, but you persist. “You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“No more secrets.”
“None, I swear, I promise.”
Biting your lip to keep from crying, you make sure his eyes are locked on yours before you speak. “I’m not walking away this time. I’m not leaving you. Not again.”
Steve’s mouth releases a big burst of air like he was holding it in, and he wraps you in a hug that promises the same.
~
TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess​ @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​
A/N: Wooooo that took forever lol xxMoni
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blackhakumen · 3 years ago
Text
Mini Fanfic #910: Doomful Christmas Presents (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)
9:14 a.m. at Smash Mansion, Wolf and Isabelle's Bedroom.....
Isabelle: ('GASPS') No way..... Wolfie...I-I-Is this......
Wolf: (Smiles Proudly) A helmet that's been worn by one of the most baddest Demon Slayer that ever walked the face of the motherfucking planet? And with your exact head size to boot? Then yes. You thought right?
Isabelle: Ohmygosh Ohmygosh Ohmygosh!~ I'd never thought I see the day when I become the Doom Slayer....(Puts On the Helmet Before Squealing in Happiness) It does fit me!!~
Wolf: You damn right it does. And no Slayer comes complete without their little partner by their side. (Gives Isabelle a Doll Figure of Doom)
Isabelle: (Eyes Begins to Sparkle at the Sight of her Gift) I will love and cherish him for the rest of my life....(Happily Hugs the Doll While Squealing) I can't thank you enough for this, Wolfieee!~ (Turns Back to her Boyfriend) Where were you able to get these?
Wolf: In the mall. I originally thought about ordering them at first, but their insanely expensive in the Internet. So started looking for them in the Game Store and well.......
Flashback
As the crowd begins to fight among one another and starts getting bigger, Wolf suddenly gets flung back to the ground with force.
'THUD'
Wolf: (Winces in Pain) Argh!...(Starts Rubbing his Head) Crazy Jackasses.... It's not even close to being Christmas Eve yet!
???: They pummeled you too, huh?
Wolf: (Turns to See a Very Familiar Face Sitting Next to Him) McCloud? What are you doing here?
Fox: (Sighs While Getting Up from the Ground) I'm trying to get the model figure of Old Man Luke Skywalker to give to Slippy for Christmas this year.... (Starts Stretching his Back Before Grunting and Point at the Raging Crowd) But then a bunch of people came right out of nowhere and starts fighting over it ever since!
Wolf: Ah. (Starts Getting Up From the Ground as Well) So that's why the crowd keeps getting bigger.....
Fox: Pretty much. (Starts Rubbing his Cheek) I think one of them sucker punched me in the jaw......(Turns to Wolf) So what's the deal with you being here?
Wolf: The same reason you're here. Trying to get Izzy the latest Doom Slayer helmet, got my ass handed to me by a bunch of clowns tearing each other's eyes out, and the rest was history.
Fox: Doom Slayer- Wait. You guys still play that Eternal game?
Wolf: Yeah, man. It was the best game of last year. (Starts Crossing his Arms While Being in a Sour Mood) Or at least it would've been if The Last of Us 2 didn't take the win from it's grasp.....
Fox: (Gives Wolf a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Wolf, we've been over this. It got the most votes.
Wolf: Yeah. But it won too many damn awards! It wasn't even that good of a game to begin with!...Or at least that's what that Ryuji kid told me.
Fox: Uh-huh.....(Looks Back at the Crowd, Who Are Still Fighting Among Each Other) Hey, Wolf?
Wolf: Yeah?
Fox: (Takes a Deep Breath Before Speaking) I know we may have our differences here and there-
Wolf: Understatement of the century. But...go on.
Fox: (Glares at Wolf Before Turning Back Towards the Crowd) But if we're really want to make our love ones happy for the holidays, then we need to work together to get our gifts back by force. (Rises his Fist Right Beside Wolf) Temporary truces?
Wolf: (Stares at Fix For a Few Seconds Before Nodding in Agreement) Until one of them bleeds.....
Once Wolf bumps his fist with his rival's, the duo turns back to the enlarging crowd before delivering their respective, vicious battle cries as they rushes their way over to the fray, fighting for their love one's gifts (and possibly not dying in the process).
End of Flashback
Isabelle: Oh my....(Eyes Suddenly Begins to Widened) Hey, wait a minute! Is THAT the reason why you were banged up that day!? (Starts Pouting at Wolf) You told me you were attacked by some crook in the streets.
Wolf: (Chuckles Awkwardly While Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth) Yeah....I made all of that up so you wouldn't know what really happened....Sorry about that.
Isabelle: ('Sigh') It's fine....(Place her Paw on Wolf's Lap With a Small Smile on his Face) As long as you came back here safe and sound, that's all it really matters in the scheme of things.
Wolf: Exactly. And besides....(Smirks Confidently) You know I wouldn't let a couple of crooks take me down that easily.
Isabelle: (Giggles Softly) I know~ Which reminds me....(Brings Out Wolf's Present From Under the Bed) I got you something that you'll might loooove~
Wolf: (Eyes Begins to Widened at the Sight of his Present) Izzy.....is this.....
Isabelle: (Smiles Proudly) A well made replica of the Plasma Rifle? Then yes. You've thought right as well.
Wolf: (Too Busy Staring at his Gift) Izzy, how were you able to get this?....It HAS to cost a fortune!
Isabelle: ('Sigh') Yeah. You're not wrong on that front. As for how I was able to get this, welllllllll......
Another Flashback........
Isabelle: What do you mean I can't buy it!?
Francis: I MEAN that this remarkably made model is currently unavailable to purchase. (Pushes the Model Closer to Him) And will always be unavailable for a very long time. ('Snorts') So, kindly buy something else.
Isabelle: But the price was labeled under it beforehand! (Brings Her Money Out From her Purse) I-I even got enough money for and everything! PLUS taxes!!
Francis: (Adjusts the Glasses He's Wearing as he Takes a Look Close at Isabelle's Money) Hmmmmm.....It does seem to be the correct amount.....(Crosses his Arms) But my answer still remains. I mean, really now? ('Snorts') How could I POSSIBLY sell this beauty of a model of one of the most greatest weaponry of the entire Doom Franchise? A weapon that, with great time and precision, could wipe anything from a distant radius.
Isabelle: (Thinks Fondly to How Amazing and Satisfying the Plasma Rifle Really Is) Yeah.....(Immediately Comes Back to Reality Before Shaking her Head) B-But that's beside the point!! Pleeeeeaseee let me purchase the model! I'll do anything you ask!
Francis: (Slowly Raises his Eyebrow) Anything?
Isabelle: ('Sighs in Defeat') Yes. Anything......... As long as it isn't illegal.
Francis: Welllllllll...... ('Snorts') Since you kindly insist....(Starts Spraying Breath Spray in his Mouth Before Turning Back to Isabelle With a Flirtatious Look on his Face) I would like to ask for your hand in our...formal outing with one another~
Isabelle: My hand in- (Gasps Once She Realized What the Chameleon is Talking About) Y-You mean like a-
Francis: D-A-T-E? I believe that's the word you're looking for, no?~
Isabelle: I mean...yes. But...('Sigh') Listen...(Takes a Look at the Chameleon's Name Tag) Mr. Francis, as......flattering your request is, I can't go on date with you. I'm already happily taken.
Francis: (Eyes Widened) You are!? By who?
Isabelle: Wolfie. My heart and soul~
Francis: Wolfie?.....(Eyes Suddenly Begins to Widened in Complete Shock) As in THE Wolf 'O Donnell!? The Fearless Leader of the Mercenary Star Wolf.....The Team that is feared by many....AND YOU'RE IN A INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM!?
Isabelle: (Taken a Bit Back By the Sudden Outburst) U-Um...('Clears Throat') Yes. That's right. I'm his girlfriend. I....take it you heard of him if sorts.....
Francis: Heard of him? (Suddenly Rips Open his Button Shirt, Which Reveals Another Shirt With a Picture of Wolf on It) I...('Snorts') am his #1 Fan!
Isabelle: (A Bit Surprised) You are?
Francis: That's right! His crude, fierce demeanor is all inspiring and the epitome of badaasery. And tell anyone I said this, but he's MILLION times better than pansy Star Fox! ('Ugh') Why everyone thinks HE'S an inspiration is beyond me, but....('Sigh') to each their own I suppose.
Meanwhile in the Smash Mansion's Living Room.....
Fox: ('Chu') ('Sigh') Bless me....
Falco: (Starts Snickering as He Starts Changing Channels) Cute sneeze.
Fox: Oh shut up. It's just a sneeze It wasn't that cute.....
Falco: ('Scoffs') Please. It sounds more like a yip if anything. Speaking of which....(Turns to Fox) Does Foxes make yipping sounds?
Fox: (Simply Shrugs)
Back to the Game Store.......
Francis: Tell you what....If you could give me a signed autograph with his style of handwriting before Christmas Eve, then the Plasma Rifle model will be rightfully yours for the taking.
Isabelle: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise) Seriously!? Just the autograph? You sure you don't want me to pay it off first?
Francis: ('Scoffs') Please. Why would I need riches when I could have an autograph signed by the legend himself?
Isabelle: I'm..... pretty sure there's a lot of reasons why money is important.
Francis: Do you want to accept the deal or not?
Isabelle: YES PLEASE!
End of Flashback
Isabelle: And that's how I got you the model!~
Wolf: Huh. So that's why you asked me to sign one of my posters....
Isabelle: ('Sigh') Yeah....I know it might've been a weird request to ask, but....at least I didn't have to pay for the gift, oddly enough......
Wolf: (Shrugs in a Bit of a Smug Like Manner) Hey, if it means getting this rad model AND keeping the crap ton of movie you saved, then that's already a win-win in my book. (Smiles Softly) Still, I really can't thank you enough for this, Izzy.
Isabelle: (Smiles Back at her Boyfriend) Oh there's no need to thank me. I just wanted to give you something I could make you happy is all.
Wolf: ('Scoffs') Please. I'd be happy with anything you got me.
Isabelle: ('Sigh') I know. Buuuuut....there is another gift I wanna give you.....
Wolf: Really? Like what?
Isabelle: Welllllllll......(Starts Whispering Something into Wolf's Ears)
Wolf: (Eyes Begins to Widened a Little at What Isabelle is Telling Him) Oh shit. Really? Like.....right now? In Christmas Morning?
Isabelle: (Smiles a Bit Bashfully) Yeah. I mean....It won't be too long though....Just a quickie~
Wolf: I'm down. But you do realize that someone's gonna realize we're in the room for too long, right?
Isabelle: I already soundproofed our room last night. (Gives Wolf an Seductive Smirk on her Face) I'm pretty sure we're in the clear~
Wolf: Well, shit. If that's the way......(Gives Isabelle a Seductive Smirk of His Own) Lead the way, babe~
Isabelle: Yes, sir~
Without a second to spare, the couple begins to spend some quality alone time together.....By ripping and tearing through numerous of aliens and many other obstacles in a quick game of DOOM ETERNAL!!!
Bonus
Leon: Merry Christmas. (Gives Panther his Gift)
Panther: A book on How to Be a Sufficient Lady's Man?
Leon: Yep. I figured since you're the biggest romantic in our team, this book could at least be some use to you in the future.
Panther: (Smiles Softly) Ah....You're simply too kind, amigo. Luckily for you.....(Gives Leon his Present) I have a gift for you as well.
Leon: (Opend his Gift to See....) You got me new Phone?
Panther: That's right. I'd figured since the last one you got wasn't working properly, I took it upon myself to get you a better model. Now you don't have to worry about your apps turning off on you every few seconds.
Leon: (Turns his New Phone On and Hears the Start Up Jingle Before Nodding) My man.
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terresdebrumestories · 3 years ago
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FANDOM: The Old Guard (2020) SERIES: - RATING: General audiences WORDCOUNT: 4 776 words PAIRING(S): None CHARACTER(S): Nile Freeman (POV), Yusuf Al Kaysani, Andromache the Scythian, Niccolo di Genova (mentioned), Sébastien Le Livre (mentioned). GENRE: Mutual care, Nile Freeman character introspection. TRIGGER WARNING(S): None that I can think of :) SUMMARY: Nile misses her mother but doesn't know how to talk about it or with who. fortunately, Bâtard the emotional support tortoise is here to help. NOTE(S): This was originally written for Nile Week 2020 but never put online because of reasons, so now here it is, longer and better written than it was :D Hugest thanks to @avaniesque for the most excellent beta work :D [ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3.]
Nile gasps when something soft bumps against her foot, hurriedly wiping at her cheeks as she turns towards the door. It looks empty at first, the cobwebs they didn’t bother dealing with earlier in the day gently swaying in the air. There’s some shuffling along the dusty floor, a light click of nails on stone, and then a small oblong head appears near the bottom. This is swiftly followed by short scaly legs and a black and brown shell wrapped in a crocheted lab coat. Nile tenses, unprepared for any sort of human company at the moment, but relaxes when it becomes apparent Booker has not elected to follow his pet around.
Said pet has now fully entered the living-room and is beelining for a strawberry resting against her right pinky toe. It looks good enough to eat, as does the rest of what Booker feeds it, which Nile still doesn’t really understand but who is she to tell Booker how to care for his pet? Bâtard, of course, is unconcerned by her surprise and eventually gets to chomping on the strawberry.
Nile’s eyes are dry by now, the tight press of sadness around her heart still present but past its peak, at least for now. It still takes her a couple of seconds to realize the small square of bright white on the side of Bâtard’s outfit is a piece of paper. She picks it up to find a few words from a hand that hasn’t yet lost the impeccable penmanship of its first life. Apparently it’s hard to let go of habits people beat into you with a stick. The note reads : “He’ll keep your secret as long as you keep paying. First one on me.” It makes Nile smile.
(Andy, Nicky and Joe are all just as capable of impeccable calligraphy, but when free not to pay attention to it they tend to revert to script letters. Booker is the only one who insists on torturing them all with permanent cursive written with fountain pens on special paper.)
She doesn’t know Booker all that well, yet. Seven years ago, he was the quiet grumpy member of the group who didn’t seem to care much whether Nile stayed or left. Then he was the one who made a pretty compelling case against Nile seeing her family again—revealing himself to have some unresolved issues in the process—and then he was the one whose issues exploded all over the rest of the group. Now he’s mostly the one who was brought back way too soon, who knows it, and tries to make himself as scarce as possible because of it.
Mostly, it means that while Nile is the one who’s exchanged the most words with him so far, it’s also pretty much been limited to the topic of...well. His tortoise. All in all, much less informative about the man compared to just watching him settle said tortoise up in every safehouse they use, no matter how temporary. (Nile would help, but she’s not entirely sure how the others would take it. It seems prudent not to.) Or looking at the cozies the tortoise parades around on a regular basis...or, as the case may be, discovering he’s taken the time to bedeck his precious reptile in a new outfit for the sole purpose of leaving it (uncharacteristically) unsupervised in Nile’s company just so she has someone to talk to.
“You’re not who I want to talk to either,” she says, because she’s under no illusion that her solitude today has been accidental. “I mean, I know they’re trying I just—”
Nile sighs, wiping at her face in a vain attempt to clear her head, but the gesture only brings fresh moisture to her eyes as she tries to swallow down her frustration. It feels almost silly, in the grand scheme of things, to be this upset over this, but, well... Hearts do what they want, and there’s nothing Nile can do about that, so eventually she looks down at Bâtard’s scaly little head and tells the tortoise:
“It’s my mom’s birthday tomorrow. She’s turning sixty-five and I—”
Nile claps a hand on her mouth to stifle the sob wrenching itself out of her, but it feels piercing and loud in the quiet evening air nonetheless. She breathes around it for a bit, unwilling to attract company just yet, and reaches down to rub Bâtard’s head with her forefinger.
“I want to be with her,” she eventually confesses to the tortoise. “I want to be there and hug her, I—I miss my mom.”
Nile knows she can call. They’ve got burner phones, Copley’s skills to keep them hidden, and an uneasy truce with Quynh ensuring the biggest threat they’ve faced so far isn’t much of one for now. Three years ago she wouldn’t even have had that: her mother and brother both convinced she was dead and buried somewhere in the mountains of Afghanistan. She believes with all of her heart that her mother and brother would never blame her for living when they can’t.
Her mother is starting the second half of her sixties, and she’s not there to see it. Her mother, who’s growing older and greying a little at the temples. Her mother, who deserves better than never knowing when they’ll see each other again, with little-to-no news in between visits. Her mother, who was there for her in every way she could and every way that counted, and for whom Nile wants to be there but can’t. Her mother, who will not be there forever.
(Sometimes, the thought hits Nile out of nowhere, and it takes an impossible effort not to drop everything right then and there to jump in the first flight to Chicago.)
“It’s just—” Nile pauses, trying to pick her words so she can really make Bâtard understand, as impossible as that is, and continues : “They’re great. All of them. They’re—even Booker’s not so bad. I mean, I’m kind of stuck in the middle of the family feud so that’s not the best feeling, but... They’ve gone above and beyond to help me feel welcome, they’ve taught me so many amazing things…. They’re just...not my mom.”
Bâtard, done with his strawberry, lifts his head to look at her, and Nile swears he even leans into her scratching, just a little. It’s a pleasant surprise and she finds herself smiling, not very bright but present nonetheless. It soothes something in her, too, not to be alone right now even though she’s not ready for human company. Both her mother and Jordan have allergies so they’ve never had pets before, and Nile never really longed for one either. Right now, though, she thinks she understands a little better what endears them to people.
“I’m...scared,” she admits, keeping her voice quiet like it’s going to make a difference. “I know I’m going to lose her one day, that’s inevitable, but I don’t want to find out about it months later because my brother couldn’t reach me...I don’t want to find out about his death from nephews and nieces who’ll barely know who I am, if they know I exist at all.” Nile sighs again, sobs crowding in her throat and tightening her voice as she admits: “I wish I hadn’t listened to Booker.”
That last admission is what breaks the dam, and all of a sudden Nile is sobbing again, and she couldn’t stop if she wanted to. There’s misery here, and anger too, maybe even more than there was at the beginning. It was...easier, in a way, to pretend to be dead. She had to mourn, of course, and that tore at her and still does sometimes, but it was a clean cut. It was simple.
Now her mother knows she’s alive and her brother knows and it’s a relief for all of them, but it also means Nile has to be the one consciously deciding not to call home until she’s in a safe enough place to do so, not to text until she can do it from a sufficiently untraceable phone. The temptation there is a hundred times harder to resist because it would be so easy not to.
“If it makes you feel better,” Joe’s voice says from the threshold, “I think we can all sympathize with that sentiment.”
He’s being quiet and careful—it’s the middle of the night after all—but Nile is still startled, and she pretends to glare at him until he tilts his head in quiet enquiry. In response she sighs, wipes at her wet cheeks again, and waves him over. He smiles, something almost like relief in it, and steps lightly into the living room.
“Mind the doctor,” Nile tells him, gesturing at the remains of the strawberry, as he lowers himself on the ground next to her.
“The doct—you mean Bâtard?”
“Yeah he’s—”
In that instant, Nile realizes she has no idea where Bâtard went. He was chilling by her feet, seemingly content to go to sleep soon, and now he’s nowhere to be seen. The realization is enough to send Nile’s heart racing, horrified at the thought of being the one under whose watch Bâtard meets an unfortunate end.
Sure, it isn’t her pet and she and Booker aren’t really close—not like she’s becoming with the others, at any rate—but 1) Bâtard doesn’t deserve to die and 2) it doesn’t take a genius to realize his demise would be absolutely disastrous for Booker’s mental health, and no one wants to see the consequences that could have on the rest of them. Joe must have gone through a similar realization, because as soon as Nile falls quiet he tenses and gets back up into a crouch.
“Please tell me we didn’t lose the tortoise,” he whispers, like he thinks Booker might be listening in on them.
“We didn’t lose the tortoise,” Nile replies because it’s barely been five minutes and Bâtard cannot possibly have gone far in that time frame.
“Good,” Joe says while Nile rummages through her pocket for her phone and turns the flashlight on, “because I don’t think any of us are prepared to deal with the fallout of—”
“We did not lose the tortoise,” Nile interrupts, her tone firm enough to pretend she’s not actually nervous about this. “Can you turn the light on? I’m getting nowhere with this.”
Joe does, and Nile spots Bâtard almost instantly, ambling in his unhurried stroll towards the fridge like he knows where the treats come from...maybe he does, Nile really doesn’t know enough about tortoises to tell. Either way, it’s a relief seeing him there, and she turns to let Joe know she’s found their target.
“Oh thank God,” Joe sighs, sagging with it. “I really don’t want to find out what Booker would be like if we lose him.”
“You know,” Nile remarks as she follows Bâtard’s mosey to the fridge, “I’ve been thinking maybe it’s time the lot of you had a talk about this.”
Joe winces, and Nile can sympathize with that if she’s really honest. She doesn’t feel the same about what happened, but then she doesn’t have a shared history with Booker the way the others do; it’s easier for her to let go faster. Still, Booker’s been back for nearly three months now, and Nile is getting tired of feeling like she needs to be walking on eggshells between the two parts of the group. Joe sighs.
“Which ‘this,’ do you think?”
“All of them,” Nile retorts, careful to keep her voice gentle. She’s not trying to force anyone into anything, after all. “Just...it’s been months, and you’re still avoiding each other. You all need to talk.”
Joe sighs again, running a hand over the nape of his neck. He looks like he might be ready to talk with someone, but the very thought of it makes Nile want to recoil. Another day, maybe. When she’s got more energy, and more space in her head for other people’s problems.
Not right now.
“Remember you’re on my strawberry,” Nile says, smiling to turn it half into a joke, “if you need a consultation you pay your own fee.”
“Alright,” Joe chuckles, good natured even in the middle of the night. “That’s fair.”
He sobers up soon after, growing quiet and serious to ask: “Is it working for you? Or would you like to tell me what’s going on? I’ll even listen for free, if you’re short on strawberries.”
Nile snorts. The truth is, she does feel better for having told him what was going on, even if her ‘consultation’ was accidentally cut short. She’s not sure how much of this she wants to share with the team just yet. There’s never an easy way to tell people who want to help you that they can’t because they’re simply...not who you want at that moment.
“Actually, I’m good right now,” she tells Joe. “Take you up on it another time?”
Joe visibly hesitates, something a little worried in his frown, so Nile gives a fond smile and leans up to squish him in a hug as much as she can manage.
“Thank you,” she tells him, relaxing when he returns the embrace just as tight and actually lifts her up against him. “I’m good, I promise. It’s not─you can probably guess most of it, honestly. I just...I feel kind of awkward about it, I guess.”
“Because we’re too close?” Joe guesses, and Nile nods.
“Sometimes it’s just easier to talk to someone uninvolved.”
“Well,” Joe says, something too wet in his throat to be only about Nile, “I’m glad you have that then. Just...just know I mean it.”
“I know,” Nile promises, chest warming from the care and the obvious concern. “Now go to sleep, old man.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Nile gives Joe a playful shove, snorting when he pretends to stumble, and watches him go with the stretch of a smile sinking into her cheeks. Slowly, the air around her grows still again, the vague sounds of a forest at night and a door creaking barely even noticeable.
How much sleeping is actually taking place on the other side of the safehouse, Nile doesn’t know. She learned very quickly that no one on this team is capable of normal sleep patterns. It’s quiet all the same, and after a few seconds of standing in place, she goes to the fridge, retrieves a peach quarter from Bâtard’s snack box and she plops the offering in front of him, turns the light off, and sits back down next to the tortoise.
“Alright,” she tells him, “maybe I wasn’t completely fair with your dad. I mean...he was wrong, but it’s not like he was trying to be cruel. And he did have a bit of a point.”
She still can’t quite stand the thought of losing her family. It’s unavoidable, she knows. One day, maybe, she’ll make her peace with it, but for now...no. She doesn’t want to think about that any more than she already has tonight.
“I know there’s a purpose,” Nile tells Bâtard. “I’ve seen it. I’ve witnessed it. And we’re getting better at it! I know I’m doing more good here than I used to as a soldier...but sometimes I wish there wasn't a purpose and I could just go home.”
Bâtard, either oblivious to or unconcerned by Nile’s predicament, keeps munching on his piece of peach, and Nile can’t help but smile down at him, reaching to rub at his head once more.
“You really are a good listener,” she tells him. “You’re still not my mom though. She’s the one I want to talk to.”
Bâtard looks up then, and straight at Nile with something that could almost pass for a purposefully flat expression...and, really, he’s not wrong. It’s nearing three am here which makes for...maybe ten or eleven in the evening in Chicago? And sure, Mom’s not so young anymore and could probably use the sleep...but today is her birthday, and Nile’s always tried to phone her on the day before, and she has a burner phone with her so, really, what’s stopping her?
Maybe the possibility of displeasing Andy, a bit. But, Nile thinks as she dials, they’re leaving tomorrow aren’t they? If she’s going to do it, at least she’s picking the least inconvenient time for it.
“N─yes?” Mom’s sleepy voice mumbles into the phone, better at the incognito game than she was when it all started two years ago. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Nile says, and smiles at her mother’s joyful, wordless exclamation. “Am I waking you up?”
“Nevermind that,” mom chides, “nevermind that! How are you? Where─well no, you can’t tell me where you are, but how are you?”
“Better now,” Nile says in a sigh, warmth and bittersweetness spreading in her chest as she leans back against the wall, finger still tracing circles on Bâtard’s head. “I mean. I miss you, but at least I get to hear you now.”
“Oh, I miss you too baby,” Mom says, tears audible in her voice, “but I’m so glad you called! Don’t tell your brother, but it’s definitely my favorite present this year!”
Nile smiles again, a little wobblier than she’d like, maybe, but not forced. This isn’t ideal and she wants more, but it’s better than not calling the way she’d planned to do. At her feet, in the dim silvery light of the moon, Bâtard looks just a little smug.
“Not a word,” Nile promises, knowing her mother is going to share the news herself anyway. “How was your day?”
“Oh it was nice! You know how I told Marjory down the street I felt ready to celebrate a little more this year now I got used to you being dead and all, so she treated me to lunch at that new Italian on the corner─you tell your Nuncio he was right, by the way, osso bucco is delicious. And then we went for a stroll in the park, and I was a little worried, because I’m still supposed to be grieving, but you’re alive and I wasn’t sure I’d look suitably emotional when we passed your favorite spots, but I do miss you so it really wasn’t that hard and all in all it was nice and Marjory’s none the wiser so I’m calling it a success.”
“I’m sorry,” Nile says, unsurprised when Mom tuts at her in response. “I know, I know. I still wish you didn’t have to lie to her.”
“Nile, baby, if Marjory knew, she’d understand. Now you stop worrying about her and tell me what your day was like.”
“It was alright,” Nile says, rolling her neck as the tension slowly seeps out of it, the breaths coming slower and easier now that she’s actually doing what she’s wanted to do all day. “I missed you. Jaamal taught me how to draw a dog, though, and then Antaram kicked my butt in training again.”
“Just you wait a few years,” Mom says with a chuckle, “then you can take advantage of her age.”
Nile snorts, even though she seriously doubts Andy will let an aging body get in the way of remaining the best fighter of the group. She might look past forty─although she doesn’t remember how long she’d lived before she died the first time─but she’s also been fighting since before horses were domesticated (or near enough), and all that expertise doesn’t just go away.
It’s still an amusing thought, though, so Nile chuckles along with her mother for a bit before continuing.
“It’s not that bad. I’m learning a lot.”
“Of course, of course! I’m just saying.”
“Of course,” Nile repeats, still smiling. “Anyway, that’s about it. Nuncio made us tagine, Jaamal made fun of him because apparently he cooks like a christian─I’m pretty sure that’s an inside joke. And then I was feeling a little down so Blàsi lent me Bâtard, and now I’m here.”
“Is Bâtard Franklin’s name?” Mom suggests when she hears Nile hiss at her slip up.
“Yes, but I don’t think he deserves it,” Nile says, grateful for her mother’s help. “I think we’re bonding. Either that or he just wants me for my fruit.” Mom chuckles. “He’s wearing a doctor’s outfit right now, by the way. I think it’s one of the homemade ones.”
It looks lumpier than the ones Bâtard wore at the beginning, at any rate, but in a way that makes it even cuter. Not that she needs the cozies to find Bâtard cute anymore. It’s entirely possible the tortoise doesn’t care one whit about her─she really doesn’t know a lot about them─but it’s clear that this little late night conversation was enough for Nile to bond with him.
“Oh, well, send me a picture if you can,” Mom says with the tone of a connoisseur readying to look at a newbie’s attempt, “see if I can give Blàsi some pointers.”
“I’ll try my best, but you know I can’t make promises,” Nile says, sadness creeping up again. “Places to see, things to do...you know how it is.”
“Speaking of,” Mom asks, “what time is it where you are? I mean─you can telle me that, right?”
“I can,” Nile says, smiling at her mother’s effort. “It’s uh...almost one AM.”
Nile yawns, unbidden, and then sighs.
“I think I need to go.”
“Yes you do,” Mom chides, teasing and firm all at once. “You’re not going to accomplish anything if you’re dead on your feet─off to bed, Nile.”
“I don’t want to,” Nile protests, not trying very hard to keep the pout out of her voice. “It’s your birthday.”
“It’s okay,” Mom says, and the tone of her voice is like a hug Nile wants to linger in forever. “I understand. I’m just glad you called.”
“I’m glad too,” Nile says, wiping at a stray tear on her cheek. “Happy birthday, mom.”
“I love you, baby,” Mom says, and Nile grins through a fresh wave of tears.
“Forever and ever?”
“Of course forever,” Mom promises with something like an amused eye roll in her tone. “Now go to sleep.”
“Yes mom. Bye.”
“Bye bye, love you.”
“Love you too,” Nile says, and then she reluctantly disconnects the call.
She’s still feeling blue, it’s true, but it’s a different sort of ache now, the sort that’s softened enough to be a fond remembrance of someone you love rather than a knife to the heart. It isn’t something Nile has figured out how to value yet, but it could be, someday, maybe. With a watery sigh and a smile, Nile bends to pick Bâtard up─he’s fallen asleep, it seems, all snuggled up in his shell and entirely unresponsive in the time it takes for her to scribble a quick thanks at the bottom of Booker’s note and bring Bâtard back to his terrarium in the old parlor.
“M’ci,” Booker mutters from the seat to her left, and Nile almost has a heart attack.
When she turns to scold Booker for it, however, he’s already back to sleep─or feigning sleep, she’s not entirely sure─his back to the door to the bedroom and turned towards the only unboarded window, which they’ve been using as an entry and exit point. Nile sighs, shaking her head, and goes to the room she shares with the others, only to jump again when she lies down on her mattress and finds herself face to face with Andy’s eyes shining in the moonlight.
“I fear the day my sleep patterns start matching yours,” Nile whispers to Andy, and sighs when all that garners her is a sharp smile. “How are you not dead on your feet?”
“I’m old enough to transcend the need for sleep.”
Nile punches her in the shoulder.
“Feeling any better?”
“Yes, actually,” Nile says, trying to shift into a comfortable position. “I talked to my mother...it’s always too short but. It’s good.”
“Good,” Andy says. There’s a pause, and then she adds, “Nile, I’m sorry.”
Nile blinks at the darkness. It’s been seven years, and while she knows full well Andy is perfectly capable of recognizing her shortcomings, it’s the first time Nile hears her actually apologize for anything. She’s got a right to be a little startled, she thinks.
“I was with Book on this,” Andy explains when the silence between them has stretched a little while longer. “Not seeing your family again, I mean. I didn’t think it could turn out well, either...sure didn’t do him any good. Or Lykon, for that matter.”
“To be fair,” Nile admits after a beat, “I get it. I’m probably just very lucky. And I...I’ll lose them anyway. Sooner or later. I don’t─I’m glad I still have them for a bit, even if it hurts but...sometimes, I think at least the clean break was...easier.”
Andy stays quiet at that, eyes still looking at Nile in the darkness. Nile resists the urge to squirm under those eyes, but she’s not surprised when the urge to elaborate becomes too strong:
“It’s just...before my mom saw us, I didn’t have to wonder how this was affecting everyone. No contact, stay out of Chicago for another fifty years, maybe a little more, and that was it. It hurt, but at least the path was clear. Now I keep wanting to call her not knowing if I should. I have to use fake names to tell her about the most important people in my life, who she’ll never meet─I’m making her lie to her best friend!”
On the other side of the room, Nicky snorts in his sleep, and Nile smiles through her anguish as it morphs into a soft snore.
“They’ve been friends since elementary school, you know,” Nile tells Andy when she’s sure Nicky isn’t waking up. “They tell each other everything, and now my mom has to lie to her because of me. I don’t know how she can bear it.”
She pauses, breathing through the sudden tightness in her throat, and concludes:
“I don’t know how long she’ll bear it.”
Andy hums.
“I don’t have any advice for you Nile,” she says eventually. “I don’t really remember how that went for me, it’s been too long. But...even now, sometimes I─it’s hard, living without your family. Even at my age.”
“I...I didn’t know you felt like that,” Nile admits. “I thought you’d grown past that.”
“I don’t think we’re meant to,” Andy says. “I can’t remember what my parents looked like, or what it was like to be a child...but I do know what it’s like to want someone else to take care of your shit for a while.”
Nile grins, surprised into a light laughter that’s almost a giggle. Sometimes it’s easy to forget Andy is as human as any of them, even if she’s the oldest person on Earth. Discovering moments of relatability is always a delight and a relief all at once.
“I know we’re not your mom or your family,” Andy says after a while, the smile fading from her voice as she grows more serious, “and we’re not trying to be. But you’re─I won’t get angry if we’re not enough. You don’t have to...to hide it from me. You don’t have to stay alone and just...assume. There’s been too much of that lately.”
Nile can’t see Andy’s face in the darkness, not when her eyes aren’t angled to catch the moonlight, but it’s not hard to guess where she’s looking. In the doorway, Nile can see the outline of Booker’s seat, one hand dangling over the armrest─bottle free for the second night in a row, though there’s still an empty glass nearby on the floor.
“What I mean,” Andy says, startling Nile again, “is that you don’t have to be ashamed if we’re not what you want or need. The fact that you value your family isn’t a weakness, or a flaw. Just because we’ve─just because most of us grew out of it doesn’t mean you’re wrong for still needing more time, especially when it’s so recent. This...I didn’t tell him that, and I should have, so now I’m telling you. Not to protect us, but because it’s true.”
“Thanks, Andy,” Nile says.
“Sure. Now go to sleep,” Andy orders fondly.
Nile snorts, gives Andy a light punch in the shoulder, and turns over to go to sleep.
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cuddlecave · 3 years ago
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is xiphoid
first: you *are* good
next: alright thingrey au
how bout an alternate 'the team finds out the shapeshifter is still alive, whoops!' but in an utterly disastrous way
it's been a while since antarctica! a long while, and gord and benr *meant* to tell the team about them ages ago, when benr became human shaped again, but there just never seemed to be a good time? and really, whats one more day, week, month...
anyway the team is utterly oblivious of benr, but being aware of gord, means that's they've noticed he's not been spending as much time with them! been spending, like, a lot of time at home, actually--or away from town. sometimes even avoiding them! they're worried, bc really, this is not the way to deal with trauma, gord! you don't pull away from your friends, you get help! just bc you can't see a therapist doesn't mean you shouldn't try to process it!
anyway, gords generally cagey about where he is, but on a rare team night where he had come to hang over...they very much on purpose get him drunk. now, drunk gord is still pretty fucking cagey (he loves his boyf and would never endanger him if possible), which is a shame, but tom is able to ask a question casually enough that gord doesn't think about it...and ends up telling them he goes out to the [insert desert area here] sometimes. when pressed on why he goes, he seems to realize he made a mistake, and bolts, cutting the night short.
now, credit to gord, him and benr don't go back to that particular desert area after that. but the team are damn smart, and figure that just bc he's not at that area anymore, doesn't mean he's not in *any* desert area anymore.
takes some trial and error--figuring out when gord seems to be out (he never answers his phone when he's out, his car is not at home), and then checking a desert area (didn't get anything but desert the first few times). but eventually...they find his car.
things paint...a worrying picture. there's camping/chilling gear in the car (chairs and a shitty tent, left from when gord tried camping several years ago and never bothered to remove from his car) but they're not set up and gords not there? the doors arent locked and the keys are in ignition? (gord doesn't want to drop his keys running from benr, he did that once and it sucked. also why he doesn't bring his phone! but he's out like 55 miles from the nearest town, who's gonna steal his car?) there's torn up foliage around, as if something big came through (benr may give gord a head start, but he still likes to be big enough to a) chase well, and b) nom gord after), and most worryingly--a set of human footprints in the sand, clearly running based on stride. and some strange larger footprint *next to them*.
their friend was ambushed by something big, and is going to get got. (this is not entirely untrue. not ambushed, but definitely going to get got, lol.) they set off quickly following the footprints.
meanwhile-gord and benr are having a *great* time! the exercise feels nice for both of them, it's a cloudy day so it's shady, they're gonna order pizza and play playstation after this--its gonna be a wonderful day. it already is!
gord, at this point, is beginning to tire out. benr is getting closer. he pushes himself a bit farther, to stretch out the chase just a touch longer, and makes a sharp turn around a rock formation, causing benr to briefly crash into it, giving him a few more steps. but he's tired, and well, benr has better stamina--and agility. benr bounds over the rock formation and uses it's height to gain just a bit of an extra boost, and tackle-hugs gord. they nearly crash into some sharp shrubs, but they're fine.
gord turns and looks up at benr and grins, and benr leans down to him, and gives him a long kiss. gord hums in contentment and relaxes. he's gonna get to doze, now, before driving. naptime, hell yeah.
benr picks him up to swallow him and he just remains basically limp, exhausted, letting benr manhandle him, gently maneuvering him into his jaws. he's swallowed with little fanfare, and happily settles in his tum, almost immediately starting to doze as benr starts to walk.
then he hears screaming, and benr sharply moves, and suddenly he's wide awake.
-
the team follow the tracks. it's a long walk, even moving at speed--gord must have really been booking it, which means hopefully he's still safe, got away some how. surely nothing would chase him for too long, when he was outrunning it this well. the trail goes on and on and on--its looking less like this thing gave up. and gords footsteps are shorter, he's not managing a hard run anymore. they're coming up on a rock formation--its still several hundred feet away. close enough to see a figure that can only be gord run from behind it, but far, far to far away to do anything about what happens next.
they see him turn sharply, and something big hits the rocks, clearly taken off guard. he makes it a few steps. and the team look on in absolute horror as what can only be the shapeshifter jumps off the top of the rocks, and tackles gord to the ground. they're partially obscured by the desert plants, but it's enough to see, even at this distance, the rippling body parts of the creature, pinning gord down.
the thing leans its head down toward gord, and they can't see what's happening with the plants and distance. and then.
it picks a completely unmoving gord up, and swallows him whole.
oh, god. it snapped his neck. it ate him. it's going to try to finish what it started in antarctica oh fuck does anyone have a flamethrower?!
a seeing it stand and start to leisurely walk in the direction they came from, they're finally broken from they're spell of silence and horror. somebody starts screaming angrily, and bubby has a lighter and big spray, making a makeshift flamethrower--and they run towards it in vengeance.
it notices them and sharply turns, booking it in the opposite direction.
(1/?)
continued under the read more!
(cont) oh fuck, thinks benr. this is not good. Not Good at all. gord frantically asks what's going on?! and goes cold when benr says 'ur friends saw us. and buby has fire.' the good thing is, benr is bigger and faster than humans. the bad thing is that he's been running all morning and now has over 200 pounds of boyf swaying in him, even if he's holding gord as tight as possible so he's not getting thrown everywhere. he's not gonna last long, and there's nowhere to hide. gord is furiously thinking. but he's also exhausted, and panicking. the thoughts in his brain are sticky like drying glue when he tries do something with them, and he can feel benr slowing. it's not by much, but his alien bf getting hurt *at all* is unacceptable, so. he decides to stop thinking and start doing. he tells benr to 'stop and let me out! as fast as you can!' and benr skids to a stop and turns half facing the approaching team, and splits his abdomen open and gord comes tumbling out into the light, getting immediately covered in dust and mud sticking to the saliva covering him. it's kinda gross, but at the moment it's not even registering, bc in those moments buby has nearly caught up. gord stands, pushes benr behind him, who let's himself be pushed purely out of surprise, and holds his hands out. 'its me! I'm fine it's ok it's me, please I can explain, just turn off the fire! it's ok!' but the thing is, as far as they're concerned...'you fucking imposter we saw gord die! get a better lie!' and buby is still running full tilt at them. gord has enough time to think, *aw fuck, this is gonna hurt*, before buby lights his makeshift flamethrower and gord is suddenly extremely hot, in pain, and knocked on his back. he can see the sky for a quick moment, before what can only be benr is standing over him, protecting him from further fire. a few limbs quickly use the dirt to put out the couple embers on his shirt (well, what's left of his shirt...) buby jerks back at the large being leaping in his direction, but it stops as it stands over the gord-imposter. which... is not moving. or writhing like the shapeshifter, or trying to split off from the damaged part. it's just...lying there. shallowly breathing as if in shock. buby gets a bit of a sinking feeling. - I got tired after writing this but basically benr tries to angle around enough to protect gord and also use teal green on him from another mouth. the team quickly figure out something is fucky, and that gord...might not be a Thing?? gord is in zero shape to have a real conversation--burns are serious business, and he basically passes out during teal-green. so why was the creature... protecting gord?? especially if it ate him?!?! there's an uneasy (extremely uneasy) truce, and benr carries gord back to the car, flamethrower pointed at them the whole way. they leave gords car and take them both back to toms place, in the car they drove in. it is supremely awkward. especially when gord wakes up for half a minute, kisses benr, and passes out again. not sure how it would go from there,, .... didn't mean to accidentally write a minific but here we are!! I really like the 'extreme misunderstanding vore' trope, lol.
ohhhh man this is like an angsty version of a regular not-a-game au idea i've thought up before o: thinking about what would happen next... the whole car ride home, benb was hitting gord with more healing (tho he gave the guys ample warning first about what he was doing so they wouldn't think he was attacking or something), and thanks to that, gord's burns are healed up to the point where he doesn't need hospitalization, just some burn cream and good rest to finish it off. (and a hair cut. benb is very sad that he couldn't repair gord's burned hair and beard. when gord's awake again he's just "Dude it'll grow back, don't worry." "i knooowwww but it still sucks. your hair was SO pretty. and you look like a sixteen-year-old without facial hair. kinda weird. babyfaceman." "WOW shut up."). when gord's awake and aware enough again, they all have a sit down and get an explanation from him and benb. benb goes on to basically give a summary of his whole backstory; explain what exactly he his and how he got to earth, and what he was trying to do both at the b'mesa base and that first norwegian base he first thawed out in. when he gets to the part about why he never wanted to hurt the sciteam, that does a pretty good job of warming them up to him. "the thing about that frzn guy is he was a total asshole. HUGE douche canoe. and i was like 'maaaan i don't wanna be this guy, he suuuuucks', but then i noticed that he'd hardly ever interacted with anybody else there. new guy on the base. nobody knew him, or knew what he was like. so i figured i could get away with acting like myself instead of him, and nobody would notice. i've never been able to just be me around other people, only when alone. i didn't really... know how it was gonna turn out. but you guys ended up liking me! you invited me to come hang out on breaks, and play video games, and watch movies, and talk about soda and photography and it was fun and nice and good! you were nice to my dog body, too. giving me a name and everything... you're all great cools. i got attached to you guys. like, super attached. didn't wanna hurt you, ever. 's the reason i never touched the sled dogs, too- i knew tommy would be sad if something happened to the dogs, and i didn't wanna make him sad." (bubs probably acts like he's not touched by that, but he is :B and also, like i've said in a post on my main, bubs feels some sympathy towards benb after hearing about his origins as an unethical science experiment. bubs wasn't grown in a lab in this au, but he was still subjected to some painful "knowledge tubes" experiments due to his contract with b'mesa. so he still knows that feel, bro. unwilling lab rat solidarity.) benb apologizes for everything in antarctica, and bubs apologizes for torching gord, but then the team asks what the fuck? happened in the desert?? and gord explains the "one-sided tag" game they do to help benb burn up energy, and that benb was just carrying gord to let him rest from the run on the way back to the car. ("Carrying you in his stomach, though?" "nah i don't put him where food goes. it's the uhhhh *lip smack* nap organ. custom made for sleeping in. bedry time.") (they also at one point explain "also we're dating" to which gord gets accused of being a monsterfucker ha ha. and then benb's like "ew no i'm ace" and harold goes on about how beautiful interracial young love is.)
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theroyalmile · 4 years ago
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Body by Chemo
Last weekend I went for a 9-mile bike ride to downtown Boston and back.  I was admittedly nervous and skeptical about this ride beforehand for a couple of reasons.  First, it has been years since I rode a bike, and I know there’s that whole expression “It’s like riding a bike” but I’m not sure that expression is all that accurate.  Second, I have never ridden a bike in Boston.  Third, I get winded these days going up and down my stairs, so I was not sure I quite “had it in me.”  But, my whole household was going, it was a beautiful day, and I had been promising myself I would make an effort to be more active.  So off we went.  Oh, and there was a promise of breakfast sandwiches and coffee and donuts once we made it downtown- nobody could say no to that.
The beginning of the ride was rocky.  The original bike I borrowed was just a little too tall for me, and because of that I felt incredibly unsteady.  I traded bikes with one of my roommates and that bike ended up being a better fit for me- a few loops around a parking lot and I thought, “Hey, it really is like riding a bike.” With my confidence reasserted, we hit the bike path.  
The bike ride was, overall, beautiful.  I did find myself getting winded and had to stop a couple of times.  My roommates had been prepared to take it easy with me, and were very supportive.  Eventually we made it the 4.5 miles downtown and I felt so incredibly proud for conquering my first time back on a bike and first time biking downtown, all while dealing with the fatigue, shortness of breath and other goodies that come with my chemo treatment.  I felt empowered and heartened, which made me feel optimistic about the ride back home.
That optimism was short lived; almost immediately after we took off it became apparent that my body simply could not handle it.  I told myself we just had to get out of downtown and back on the bike trail and then I would ask to stop.  We made it and I signaled everyone for a quick break.  I thought maybe if I caught my breath and had some water it would be okay.  One of our bike squad members offered for me to try their bike to see if that made a difference.  I hopped on bikes a block or so, and then hopped off almost immediately- it just wasn’t going to work.  As I hopped off, right after we had crossed an intersection, I heard two men yelling from a car about some girl having a fat ass, or something to that effect.  Regardless of whether they were talking about me or someone else who had crossed the street with us, that was the final kick for me.  Any experienced fat girl understands that you will always think those comments are about you, even when they are not.  (Disclaimer: I do not mean “fat” as something negative, and I am definitely not looking for people to tell me I’m not fat, I’m simply stating a fact about my body).  Anyways, it was at this point I felt the tears of frustration welling up and knew my ride was done.  I told the crew I couldn’t go any further and would walk while they biked on.
There is a certain trauma that comes with being fat and exercising.  It’s almost like you never want someone to see you fail at any kind of physical activity because it feels like you're reinforcing the stereotype, like, oh of course the fat girl can’t finish the bike ride.  My roommate had offered, very kindly, to come back and pick me up in the car.  That was an indignancy I couldn’t bear- it was one thing to fail to finish the ride; it was another to have to be driven home.  No, I said stubbornly, I would walk my bike home.  Caleb of course insisted on walking his bike with me.  
As we walked our bikes I became more and more upset.  Part of it was the embarrassment of being a fat girl walking a bike home.  I almost want to scream at passers by “It’s not because I’m fat- I have cancer!” But another, bigger part of it was the reality of admitting to myself that chemo had changed my body, and it simply wasn’t up to the tasks it might normally have been.  Eventually I became upset enough that I had to stop and let myself have a small breakdown.  Caleb hugged me while I cried and tried to keep me in perspective. “You’re going through chemo” he reminded me, and tried to help me realize that having made it as far as I had was a feat in itself.  He walked across the street to grab me tissues and a gatorade so I could cry, rehydrate, cry, and rehydrate some more. 
****
Here’s the thing about chemo- it has made me feel incredibly betrayed by my body.  I have always been overweight, since my teenage years or even earlier.  Different versions of overweight, but overweight.  That was just the way it was, and I had reached a certain level of acceptance of that.  But I had always prided myself on how active I could be.  Pre-pandemic I could run 4-5 miles no problem.  I would hit the gym three times a week, I would get the steps in.  I was still fat, I was active, and I felt good about myself.  
Because of chemo, I am now fat, inactive, and feel terrible all the time.  I get winded walking up stairs, I am exhausted by my five minute walk from the T to my office downtown, and I find a short walk will tire me out for an afternoon.  And it’s not just my stamina.  It is absolutely everything.
The skin around my mouth had begun peeling and reddening.  My cuticles are dry and peeling and hurt.  My hands and feet are dry and cracked.  My arms are bruised up and down from frequent IVs. I oftentimes cannot open my medicine bottles or jars without help.  My hair, of course, is completely gone, not just on my head, but my nostrils too, leaving me with an almost constant runny nose.  My eyebrows are thinning, along with my eyelashes, and I pray to whoever is listening to please not take those away from me too.  My hands shake, and have turned dark brown from the cytoxan (which thankfully I am done with).  My memory is terrible.  I am breaking out like I’m back and middle school. My joints hurt, my muscles ache, despite me doing nothing all day. AND I get hot flashes now! Oh and I am hungry all the time.  Honestly ALL THE TIME.  
Here’s the thing- my body and I have been in a constant battle since I was 12 years old.  It took me 10-15 years to learn to love my body for what it was, with the understanding I was never going to have the same body as my friends, was never going to fit their clothes, and was never going to be the traditional idea of “in shape.”  But we had come to truce, my body and I.  I had found acceptance, and even joy in my body.  I had even got to a point where I wore a bikini for the first time since I was a child the summer before the pandemic and it felt amazing, liberating.  I followed plus size models like Ashley Graham and Tess Holiday on Instagram and thought heck yeah, if they can do it so can I.  
My cancer treatment has taken the pride I had in my body and the control I had over my activity levels and appearance and destroyed every last piece of it.  When I was having my worst struggles with my body in college, therapists used to ask me to list my favorite things about my appearance.  My top two on that list were always the same: 1) My hair and 2) My boobs.  Well, cancer has taken one of those things from me already and will have taken the other by the end of this summer.  Like I said, my body has betrayed me now in more ways that I can count.  And that betrayal is likely not going to end for a long time.  Honestly not until there is no cancer in my body any more.  Because let’s be real- that’s the biggest betrayal of all.
Whenever I catch myself in the mirror these days it has the potential to ruin my whole day.  There are few outfits that make me feel comfortable and attractive.  My face feels round, rounder without hair to frame it. I try not to look too long, lest I find more things to hate.  I am terrified of upcoming social gatherings, and wonder how on earth will I be able to feel remotely happy about my appearance for them.  
Chemo has reshaped my body in so many ways, some that I am only starting to realize.  It is hard, fitting into this new body and becoming accustomed to it.  It is even harder learning to love it.  Indescribably hard.  I think I can get there but sometimes it’s difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Moments like the complete few minutes of despair I felt during our bike ride sometimes make that light seem even further.  But it’s important to remember those moments are often fleeting, and can change with a little perspective.  
****
After I cried it out on the bike path, I checked the time and realized we really needed to start heading home.  Caleb had a vaccine appointment to make and I was an hour away from committing murder of some poor bystander out of sheer frustration.  I looked on Google maps and found the walk home would be 48 minutes, probably more pushing a bike and with my sad little chemo lungs.  The bike ride home? 12 minutes.  So back on the bike I went, and it took every muscle in my body to pedal that 12 minutes home.  Fueled by my anger and embarrassment, and the residual tears, we eventually made it all the way home.  
I originally found little pride and satisfaction in our trip.  All I could think about was how I couldn’t bike the whole thing, and about how those guys in the car had yelled, and how much I hated my biking outfit, and how defeated and mortified I was feeling.  
Sometimes perspective takes time, but eventually I found some.  I owe a lot of the perspective to Caleb’s support and encouragement both during and after the bike ride, and to my parents pride and excitement as I was telling them about my biking adventure.  I also owe a lot of it to a nap, a much needed shower, and a new day.  With perspective I rediscovered some of that pride I had lost.  Nine miles there and back?  I did that shit.  And yeah, maybe I didn’t bike the whole thing, but I sure as hell did the whole thing, and did the whole thing while in the midst of chemotherapy treatment.  While in the midst of poisoning my body beyond recognition.  I am a freaking badass. 
And what did I do that evening?  Ate my body weight in sushi because I wanted to.  
I know there are going to be a lot more ups and downs like this.  That bike ride was filled with some very high highs and some very low lows.  This is going to happen.  And while I don’t know exactly what to expect from my body in the months to come, I do know that whatever happens I’ll see y’all at the beach in July- I’ll be the fat girl with the bald head in a bikini eating an ice cream cone.
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coeurdastronaute · 5 years ago
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Essays in Existentialism: Polo 3
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Previously on Polo
The sun was glaring; absolutely murdering the entirety of the world in the noontime shine of a clear day in the early spring. The heat couldn’t come just yet, still not allowed due to larger forces like the tilt of the planet and the distinct absence of a certain player, yet to be seen despite a not-so-covert glance at the pitch during warm ups. The entire event was going to be the largest of its kind, and it was like the world knew it, opening itself up and shining all of the kindest wishes on the sport, as a large herd of watchers made their way to find a place to watch. 
The tents were stocked with alcohol and snacks, people in hats and those who were there because they were supposed to be. But along the pitch, bleachers filled up with anyone who wanted to watch, creating an atmosphere of joy and excitement that’d been lacking at the private matches. 
There really wasn’t a reason to be there. Clarke had more than fulfilled her daughterly duty for the entire year with her increasingly frequent showings at events for both of her parents. She chalked it up to growth, and becoming a better person, to make an effort, to try her best to show her mother that she was happy for her, and to prove to her father that she was deserving of her name, even if that meant trudging through society things in lieu of his wife. 
But seeing as Kane’s opening of the Gauntlet of Polo opening day party was not her mother’s, nor was it something she felt compelled to do to represent her father, Clarke had no true reason to go other than because Kane was nice enough to invite her, and she truly had nothing else to do. 
“So where’s the hot polo playing Argentinian underwear model who recites you poetry and fucks you in stables?” 
Clarke grit her teeth before sighing and shaking her head, giving her best friend a look that should equal death, if she’d been luckier. 
“What?” Raven shrugged. “I want to get a good look at the girl that convinced you to be okay with your parents divorce. I’m sure there are over-paid therapists who would kill to know how to do it.” 
“She didn’t--”
“And made you nicer in general to your parents. And me. And your life is less chaotic now-- I’ve noticed you are volunteering. That must be some of the worlds most powerful puss--”
“Kane! Mom!” Clarke interrupted her friend’s tangent, thankfulness apparent in her voice as she found the host and hostess. 
Her mother was always beautiful, but Clarke began to see how much nicer happiness looked on her, and as much as she claimed to always love her father, there was a girlish spark that came when Abby was near Marcus. It took Clarke long enough to put aside her feelings to see it, but when she did, she couldn’t have been happier, despite the occasional bitterness about what was lost. It was Lexa’s stupid notions of love that messed with her brain and her ability to hold a grudge. 
There’d been a truce between herself and Kane, reached gently and treated very cautiously, but still, it remained. She had dinner with them just a week ago when they were in the city, and it wasn’t entirely painful. As much as she wanted to dislike Marcus Kane, she couldn’t bring herself to do it because he was just… nice. And he made Abby smile in a way that Clarke didn’t realize she hadn’t seen in a while. 
The real benefit of all of this love and joy being that while Abby got to live her best truth, it meant less comments about Clarke’s “wasted potential,” and there was a bigger focus on her art, which led to less stress with their average communications. 
“Oh, honey you made it,” Abby smiled and hugged her daughter, kissing her cheek quickly, squeezing her shoulders. “I didn’t think we’d find you in all this.” 
“Believe it or not,” Clarke explained as she accepted a quick hug from her mother’s boyfriend. “It’s easy to find the guy who owns a team in a tournament sponsored by his company.” 
“I’ve been looking and couldn’t find you.” 
“I took Raven to see the ponies.” 
“Look at that,” Kane grinned. “She’s using proper jargon already.” 
“Clarke’s given me a quick rundown, but I don’t know if I trust her expertise yet,” Raven offered after all pleasantries were exchanged. “Care to teach me, Kane?” 
“The more the merrier,” he smiled wider, like a kid in a candy store, surrounded by people who wanted to listen to him explain his favorite sport. “We better go find a good spot. It’ll start soon.” 
Raven turned and gave Clarke a wry grin before linking her arm with Kane’s as she maneuvered them through the crowd. Clarke let her mother squeeze her and follow along a few steps behind. 
“It means a lot that you’ve tried to take an interest in something that Marcus finds important,” Abby offered as they meandered along. 
“Just a good reason to be outside, and Raven loves selling rich people her programs and things,” Clarke dismissed her effort for anything benevolent as she grabbed a flute of champagne gratefully. “I’m fairly certain that’s the only reason she keeps me around.” 
“Whatever the reason. It means a lot to me. I know it wasn’t easy to find out--”
“We don’t have to do this.” 
“I know,” Abby relented. “You just never cease to amaze me is all. Marcus is important to me, and you’ve taken the time to get to know him, just like I’m sure you would when your father starts--”
“Dad won’t date anyone else.” 
The words came out a little bit too harsh, and Clarke wasn’t sure why she felt so protective of her father’s refusal to get over a broken heart. 
“He will eventually, and believe it or not, no matter how he feels about Marcus and even me right now, seeing you be open to our happiness will make it easier.” 
“I guess I’m just a saint.” 
It was meant to be a joke, but Clarke felt suddenly a little guilty. They took their seats beside Kane and Raven, and Clarke looked out on the pitch, wondering if she would be there at all if it hadn’t been for the oddest addiction she somehow developed for a stupid girl who argued with her every time she saw her. 
She might not even get to see Lexa today. She might only see her on the pitch. And would that be a waste? Should she think about this perfect stranger as often as she did and look forward to this stupid even for the past three weeks? Was she proving Lexa’s points right about lust and love and soulmates? Did she believe in something like soulmates? How could she? And what did it matter. Wasn’t this a lot to do just for sex? Very, very, very good sex, but still--
“You’re not zoning out already, are you, Clarke?” Kane smiled and waved his hand in front of her face, bringing her back to reality. 
“Just listening, making sure I remember everything.” 
Raven gave her a look. 
“Now tell me about your team. Clarke was telling me all about how skilled the one… what was her name?” 
“Lexa,” Kane offered excitedly, before Clarke could bring herself to utter the name. “She is incredibly skilled. I’ve never seen someone ride with such passion. She is so fluid, covering everything, seeing plays before they happen. And she’s got this passion in her blood for the sport. She hits hard, and takes a licking-- Are you okay?” 
Only when Kane stopped talking did Clarke realize she’d spilled her glass, letting it tilt back toward her chest as she remembered exactly how passionate and fluid and licking that Lexa had been. The cool liquid froze her chest, dripping down her front as she hurried to pat it dry. 
“Fine, fine. I wasn’t paying attention.” 
“Off in another world,” he offered politely. 
“This girl has her head in the stables,” Raven joked, though only Clarke understood it. “I get now why Clarke’s so passionate about those ponies. You are a hell of a salesman, Kane.” 
“This is something that costs me money. Imagine what I can do with something I want to make money off of.” 
They shared a laugh and Clarke joined in, only half paying attention as the team was announced and she caught the now familiar jerseys making their way to the center for the start of the match. 
There was an air to the polo player, helmet on, stoic and sitting tall as she stood beside her fellow teammates, her horse still as she was. Lexa listened politely to the anthem, she listened to the announcer, but she didn’t move more than necessary. It was by a stroke of luck that she found Clarke in the crowd, though Clarke wouldn’t agree anything was lucky about it, because now she had to sit in the stands after getting the full weight of Lexa’s glance. Only slightly did Clarke notice the pull of one corner of Lexa’s mouth and the fire behind her eyes. It made her gulp. 
Lexa didn’t look away the entire time and neither did Clarke. She didn’t have to say anything. They both knew. 
XXXXXXXXXX
It was an actual match, and a hard fought one to begin the Gauntlet that would last the next few months, and Lexa ached in the most delicious kind of ways after the win. Over the next week she’d have to win five more to hoist the first cup, collect the first purse, and move onward in hopes of completing the perfect Gauntlet, winning all three cups, and collecting the bonus purse that would triple her yearly income. 
No pressure at all when trying to impress a girl who was set to inherit billions. With a B. 
Showered and cleaned up, Lexa made it to the crowds in time to catch part of the second match. The sun was dimming, fading into the trees, giving a bit of a sunset despite the lights that shined over the pitch. It was a perfect evening for polo, and Lexa felt it, still riding the high of her win and feeling the limitless possibility of the next few months. 
It didn’t hurt that she caught a certain girl’s eyes before it started and put on a show. No, Lexa didn’t think about that at all. 
There was absolutely no way she had a chance with someone like Clarke, prize purse be damned. Lexa was the person who got a taste-- who was used for the pleasure of someone who had other responsibilities. In all of her dealings with people like Kane, with people like Clarke, she knew she was an interloper; destined to be a tagalong, someone who was never quite part of their world. Those were the things that she thought about after that momentary rush of seeing Clarke-- an intense loss at never having her completely. 
She didn’t look for Clarke in the tent with the other donors because she could feel her. It would take her a moment to get back to being okay with being a plaything. It had its perks, and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, to be someone who only got a taste when that taste was delicious. Lexa was okay with the being just a fling, if only her heart would listen and not get in over its head. 
“You, in that dress,” Lexa whispered as she approached a bare back, the navy blue of the dress, dipping along spine, hanging on shoulders. “Has all of my attention.” 
“Are you sure?” 
Lexa half-smiled and grabbed a flute of champagne, handing it to the woman beside her before taking one for herself. Only then did she allow herself to look at Clarke, meeting blue eyes and lips she desperately wanted to kiss already, after exactly one second of being within her orbit. 
“It’s becoming a problem, princess. You look too distracting in everything.” 
“Maybe you should stop looking?” 
“Would you like me to stop?” 
With her words, Lexa shifted closer, and Clarke felt it. Their bodies moved around, hovering and refusing to touch though desperately wanting to feel the next. Clarke licked her lips and looked up from beneath her lashes while Lexa looked over her cheekbones as she took a sip and played with the stem of her glass. 
“It’s been three weeks. You didn’t try to find me?” 
“I’ve been busy training,” Lexa tried, unsure of if she was supposed to find Clarke. She never knew it was an option. “And I didn’t… Three weeks, and were you preparing for a Gauntlet?” 
“You were the one that was trying to convince me to fall in love with you.” 
“Or lust.” 
“Right, or lust,” Clarke nodded. “I couldn’t find you. That’d just prove you right.” 
“And we wouldn’t want me to be right, would we?” 
Despite herself, Clarke smiled, small and there. She blushed a little, right beneath her jaw, near her earlobes. Lexa gorged herself on it. 
“If you’re right, you get all of the power. I can’t give you that.” 
“But it would be great if you did. I promise to be a benevolent overlord.” 
“What if I don’t know how to be kept?” Clarke asked after a moment of quiet. It was the most honest thing she’d said in their time together. 
Lexa reached forward to touch her, finally. She ran her finger along her forearm, and she paused at Clarke’s wrist, running her thumb along the small protrusion there. She watched her fingers move against Clarke’s skin. 
“I’m good at being still. I’ve broken more wild things than you, princess.” 
As she stood there, Clarke felt Lexa’s warmth, and she wondered to which level they were speaking, because almost accidentally, she’d confessed one of her truly darkest fears, that she wasn’t one to be in love, that she didn’t know how, that she wasn’t sure she was worth being looked at like Lexa looked at her, whether it be love or lust of something between. 
“I completely mean to interrupt whatever is happening over here,” a voice rang out, oddly cheerful and not at all in line with the tone established. 
Lexa retracted her hand quickly, finishing the rest of her champagne as a result of compensating for the movement. Clarke stood up, her body language becoming alert and afraid. There was the shame, Lexa saw and pretended to ignore, of being caught with someone like her. 
“Hell of a game you played out there, Lexa,” the new woman explained as she grabbed them another round of drinks from a passing tray. 
The crowd cheered for whatever was happening on the pitch, and Lexa looked toward it in hopes of finding a reason to escape, the trance of Clarke Griffin broken for a moment. 
“And I heard all about how amazing your play was from Kane. Clarke couldn’t keep her eyes off of you, and I have to say, I get it now.” 
Lexa found her interest turning back to this shorter, nonplussed member of their group, her interest piqued as she recognized a fellow interloper, although someone who seemed to own it much better and in a way she almost envied. 
“I wasn’t--” Clarke began before taking a breath, earning a grin from her friend. “Lexa, this is Raven, my best friend dating back from elementary school, so please don’t hold it against me.” 
“I couldn’t. She seems to have such great taste if polo players,” Lexa grinned, extending her hand. “Lexa Woods. It’s a pleasure to meet you--”
“Raven,” she offered, shaking it heartily. “I’ve heard many things.” 
“All good, I hope.” 
“Mythical, some might say.” 
Clarke coughed and cleared her throat until her friend returned the hand it’d been shaking and went back to sipping her champagne. Lexa felt her chest puff a bit, and she couldn’t help it. 
“I should go make the rounds,” she finally offered as the two ancient friends glared at each other, having an entire conversation. “I’m sure Kane has some constructive criticism, and plans for the next matches. I hope I see you both around, and thank you for coming to support us.” 
“It was nice to see you again,” Clarke offered with a slight nod. 
Brazenly, Lexa leaned forward, placed her hand on the small of Clarke’s back so that her thumb could touch the bare skin of her spine. She kissed her cheek. 
“I hope you choose to find me, princess,” she whispered. “I love wild things as they are.” 
Lexa pulled away quickly and shook Raven’s hand again. 
“It was nice to meet you, Raven. I hope Kane didn’t bore you terribly.” 
“Not at all,” she returned. “I hope to come to more, if Clarke will invite me.” 
But Clarke didn’t answer, just stared at Lexa until she nodded and walked away, fading into the crowd in search of her benefactor. 
“Holy shit she’s hot up close,” Raven finally offered after a moment where Clarke downed her champagne. “Like. Insanely hot. Superhuman hot. And when she did that thing, that being so close to you but not touching you thing. Damn. And then, I think she practically was undressing you with her eyes when I walked up. I’ve never seen eyeballs look like murder, but hers were coming for me.” 
“You see what  mean, right?” 
“Yeah, you have a problem there,” her friend agreed as Clarke finally took a breath and nodded weakly. “I’d have to go for it.” 
“Yes. Without a doubt.” 
XXXXXXXXXX
Even though there was an entire week of matches for the tournament, Lexa still waited for a girl to appear, to make the move, to find her. She knew that it had to be Clarke who appeared, who made the move because she was the one who was most afraid. It was supposed to be a joke, but Lexa knew it was the most honest thing about her to admit that she was already in love with the stranger. 
She knew nothing about Clarke, not really, and yet she felt like she understood her on a cosmic level, an inherent kind of language they both spoke, that defied time. Lexa craved that poetry, and perhaps it was the works of the great romantics that she kept reading and clouding her brain with such notions, but she couldn’t help it. It seeped into her very DNA. 
The week led to the first win out of three for the Gauntlet, and Lexa hoisted the cup valiantly, happy that she was worth her weight in gold, as Kane liked to explain. And after all of it, after they made the trip home, and she made sure the stables were taken care of and schedule made for the following day, Lexa sat on the porch to her small home about five miles from the horses, and she opened a bottle of beer. 
The night was colder than the day, giving off the heat and letting the warmth disappear with the sun, but it was a clear night, the moon bright above, casting moonbeam shadows in the tall grasses and from the fence posts. She could have lived in the city, gotten a place an enjoyed the splendor of her generous paychecks, but Lexa had a need to be near her ponies and to be close to the games. She wouldn’t commute if she didn’t have to, and she wouldn’t allow herself any distractions. 
And then headlights appeared in her driveway, following the gravel up toward the converted cabin. 
She stood and tapped her beer against her thigh as she leaned against the railing, squinting into the light in hopes of figuring out who was going to bug her after a rather long week and an impressive win. 
She wasn’t in a dress. She was in an old jacket and jeans as she shoved her hands in the back pockets and made her way around the car once it turned off. It really was becoming a problem, because every time Lexa saw her, she was distracted. She really didn’t think about the car and how many questions she had about the absolutely devastating piece of machinery. 
Instead, she took another sip and smiled. 
“Congratulations,” Clarke offered. 
“Did you watch?” 
“I didn’t, but I heard.” 
“Good news travels fast.” 
Despite her initial burst of courage, Clarke paused near the stairs, looking up at the polo player, the lights from the glowing windows giving her a little bit of color. Lexa didn’t move to fix the height gap between them, instead, waiting for Clarke to make the moves. It was her porch, but it was Clarke’s rules, and she wasn’t sure she’d trained wilder things than Clarke Griffin, but she was a tamer of beasts. 
“I found you,” Clarke offered, as she took a step. 
“You did. I’m not hard to find though.” 
“I think we should applaud the effort,” Clarke grinned, stepping up another until she was just one below. “I was impressed with your win. You must be happy.” 
“I’m honestly happier that you’re here right now than the trophy.” 
“Are you going to show me your home?” 
“I don’t want to move,” Lexa offered as Clarke stood in front of her now. “I’m afraid you’ll bolt the moment I do.” 
“I showed up. I made the move,” Clarke sighed, looking at her lips. “You have to teach me the rest.” 
“Three conversations for you to fall in love with me,” she grinned, closing the distance and moving so she was touching Clarke, pressed against her front. “I can work with that.” 
“Lust.” 
“For now.”
NEXT
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spam-monster · 5 years ago
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Helsa Week day 4: fantasy
(I was trying to finish this last night so i could post it in time, but the words just did not want to go)
Backstory: Everyone is fairies. Elsa is the seelie Winter Queen, while Anna is the Queen of Summer (Rapunzel and Merida are Spring and Fall, respectively). The Queens have all decided to take Knights, loyal fairies who will protect them and help them enforce peace between the courts. The unseelie fey all choose members of their own courts as knights, but the seelie decided they would choose a knight from the opposing season’s court in order to strengthen their relationships.
(Fairy lore: basically seelie are the fairies who would help guide lost children out of the woods, and unseelie are the fairies who would lure unsuspecting travelers to their doom for funsies.)
(Story notes: The seelie and unseelie each have their own 4 seasonal courts, with their own Queens., and there are specific names for each. The relevant ones are: unseelie Summer = The Blazing Court, seelie Summer = the Dawn Court, and seelie Winter = the Dusk Court)
 As this part of our story begins, Queen Anna has been traveling around the realm of Winter searching for a suitable knight. But every time she met a promising candidate, something went wrong. It was eventually discovered that the culprit was a young man of noble lineage from the unseelie court of Summer, who had snuck into Anna’s realm and attempted to court her in order to win the position of her Knight...
 “But why would you choose a knight from another court? That’s not-“
“Just because the unseelie Queens have chosen knights from their own courts does not mean we are beholden to do the same.” The Winter Queen said. “And that is no excuse for you to sabotage my sister’s quest to find her knight.”
The redhead protested. “But I could have been-“
“Enough!” The Queen turned away, her crystalline cape glittering as it swayed around her. “Go back to the Summer courts of the unseelie at once, Hans! That is, unless you would prefer to stay here in Winter eternal as my servant.”
“…I would. Prefer that. Actually.”
The Queen looked back in confusion. Surely she could not have heard that right?
But the young unseelie man looked at her with quiet determination. “If it is possible…I would serve out my punishment here. I would rather endure a thousand winters as a servant than one more day as a noble among my brothers in the Blazing Court.”
The Queen was at a loss for words. A Summer fairy, wanting to stay here? There was a reason she had not yet gone to Anna’s court, despite her sister’s urging. Although she agreed strengthening the bonds between their courts by appointing a knight from the opposing season was a good idea in theory, deep down Elsa feared that no fairy from her sister’s land of sunshine and laughter would ever choose to live in her own land of ice and quiet.
Maybe…this would be a good test run. If this one could survive in her lands, perhaps there really was a Summer fairy out there willing to become her knight.
“Very well, then. You shall stay here, child of Summer.”
Who am I kidding? She thought to herself as he was led away. In a few weeks he’ll be begging to go back to his brothers.
---
It had been a few weeks, and another few weeks yet.
And the young man had shown no desire to leave.
Where other fairies of other courts would have been put off by her people’s stoicism and bluntness, Hans had adapted his way around it, speaking just enough to fill the silence but never so much as to be a nuisance. Where others would have complained about the endless cold, Hans just bundled up tighter and endured it (although he did take more trips to the hot springs than most). And when others would have compared her lands endlessly to Summer’s beaches and Spring’s gardens and Fall’s woodlands and found them wanting, Hans could be found staring out at the vast mountains of snow and ice for hours.
“It’s quiet.” He explained to her.
“And that doesn’t bother you?” She asked.
“I have twelve older brothers. My whole life I’ve been surrounded by noise, yelling and screaming and fighting and clashing. This…is peaceful. I feel like I can breathe again.”
She left him there, gazing out the windows, and did not ask for more.
---
“The gathering of the Four Seelie Queens shall now commence!”
“Elsa!” Anna yelled from across the room, bounding up to catch her sister in a hug. Elsa accepted it warmly, nodding to Kristoff in greeting.
“How have you been?” She asked the two of them. “She hasn’t been too much trouble, I hope?” She directed to Kristoff playfully.
Kristoff grinned sheepishly. The former grumpy icecutter had been roped into escorting Anna around when she was searching Winter for a candidate to be her knight, but the two of them had bonded against all odds and he was now her Summer’s knight. “Well, you know Anna. Never a dull moment with her.”
“And the weather?”
“Still getting used to it, as is Sven. But I’m fine. It’s worth a few sunburns to be able to…” stay with her went unspoken, as he glanced at Anna softly and she giggled and took his arm. Elsa felt a pang of something like envy, but she fiercely pushed it down.
“How is…” she waved her arm and glanced towards the other Queens. The Spring Queen Rapunzel was laughing softly, leaning her head on her knight. (Rapunzel had been the first of them to find her knight, and it had all started with Eugene trying to rob her, not knowing the girl in the carriage trundling through the woods was secretly royalty.)  Sir Eugene was preoccupied between playing with her hair and trying to fix his, as usual. And next to them was…
“Wait…Merida found a knight?!”
Anna chuckled as she glanced in their direction. “Yep!”
“But she’s…”
“Merida? Yeah. But it as it turns out, she somehow happened to find the one fairy in Spring as uninterested in romance as her, who was also willing to help her deal with all the boring administrative stuff she never wants to do.”
Elsa looked again. Unlike the other two pairs, Merida and her new Knight seemed more interested in leaning on each other and gossiping than stealing longing glances. They looked…comfortable. (And it wasn’t like there was actually a rule that said a Queen and their knight had to be romantically engaged, she supposed.)
“…Good for her.”
“Uh-huh! Soooo…what about you~?”
Elsa looked back at Anna. “Me?”
“You’re the only one who hasn’t…you know. You should come over later. I’ve been thinking about…is that Hans?!”
Elsa looks behind her. She’s so used to seeing Hans among the other members of her inner court by now, she’d forgotten that he wasn’t always there. “He’s been…serving out his punishment with me.”
“Wait, so he’s like, living with you?”
“You let him in the palace?!” Kristoff sounded scandalized.
Elsa shrugs awkwardly. “He’s been…behaving himself?”
Anna looked at Hans again, then back at her, like she was trying to figure something out. The intense scrutiny started to make her feel nervous. “Is…is this a problem?”
“No, not if he’s getting punished like you said, but…Elsa. You’ve been so worried about if any Summer fairies would actually want to stay with you – and don’t give me that look, I know that’s why you keep putting this off – and yet, you’ve been letting this guy live in Winter for months and it’s fine?”
“He…” Elsa hesitated, unsure of what to tell her. The sound of more trumpets below them interrupted her.
“Hear ye, hear ye! The gathering of the Unseelie Queens commences! Get in line, people!”
The floor beneath their feet rippled and changed, the barrier becoming clear. Below them, the four Queens of the unseelie courts and their Knights gathered. The chattering on their side stopped, tension filling the air.
The seelie Queen of Winter met the eyes of her unseelie counterpart through the barrier, as she knew the other Queens were doing. Slowly, she bowed. The unseelie Winter Queen held her gaze for a minute, her eyes a cold reflection of Elsa’s own, but she then bowed back. The tension lessened. The truce was upheld for another season.
“Excuse me.” Elsa murmured to her sister and her knight, slipping away to get some space. Logically she knew that the unseelie Queens would never break the truce (they couldn’t; any harm that befell one Queen would come to her counterpart on the other side as well), but it always made her nervous. She rested against the wall for a moment, watching as the party slowly resumed and the fairies on either side of the barrier began traveling back and forth, trading greetings and stories.
“Well, they didn’t waste any time in getting noisy again.”
Elsa turned to look at the man next to her. He glanced over at her with an unspoken question. Are you alright, your highness?  
She wondered since when Hans had become so readable to her; or maybe it was another aspect of himself he seemed to be able to turn on and off at will. She made a non-committal noise of agreement, and he nodded and looked out at the gathering again. I’m fine, Hans.
“Your sister seems to be in a good mood.” Is she still mad at me?
“Probably just happy that she doesn’t have to listen to Merida complain about not wanting a Knight anymore.” I’m not sure.
“So even the Queen of Fall has a Knight now…” And what about you, Elsa? How long are you planning to put this off?
“They seem to get along well. I’ll have to have her introduce me properly later.” I’m not answering that.
“Hmm…” You can’t run from this forever, you know…
“Is that you, little scrubfire?!”
Hans flinched, and his eyes grew wide as he turned towards the source of the voice; a man with similar eyes to his and a smile with too many teeth. He brandished a sword slung over his shoulder, the emblems on his chest gleaming.  The unseelie Knight of Summer, Elsa thought to herself.
---
Elsa understood why Hans hadn’t wanted to go back now, if this was what was waiting for him.  
The Knight was one of Hans’ older brothers, and once he found Hans the rest of them had swarmed him like a school of sharks seeking prey.
“We thought the Dusk Queen had frozen you up like a statue, or dumped you in a lake!” one of them laughs, in a tone that indicated he wouldn’t have cared much either way.
Elsa just stood and watched. She shouldn’t care, she knew. After all, this man had selfishly tried to disrupt the peace between their lands just so he could try and trick her sister into making him her knight. But the man who at any other time would have been easily quick-wittedly trading barbs with whoever insulted him, was frozen, looking down at his feet and slumping into the wall like if he made himself small enough maybe they would go away.  
“Hey, weren’t you gonna become a knight up here?
“Ha! That brat couldn’t become a regular knight, let alone a Queen’s Knight!”
“I’ll bet they took one look at him and laughed right in his stupid face!”
“Like he could ever be anything important!”
“That’s enough!” Elsa growled, unable to stand by and watch any more. She put herself in between Hans and his brothers, at them.
“Hans is a member of my court now, and I will not stand for him being disrespected this way!”
She could feel Hans eyes staring at the back of her head with surprised gratitude and relief.
---
It had taken Anna stepping in and summoning the unseelie Summer Queen herself to get Hans’ brothers dragged back to their own realm.
“You didn’t have to do that.” He muttered nervously.
“They were harassing you.”
He just shrugged.
“…Are you…alright?” Anna asked a bit awkwardly. Hans turned to her, sighed, and bowed deeply.
“Thanks for stepping in, your Highness. And…let me take the opportunity to apologize for my earlier actions against you. Had I known that there were people up here kind enough to protect me from my brother’s cruelty without asking anything in return, I would never have acted so rashly and almost upset the balance between your kingdoms.”
“Umm…yeah. You’re welcome.” Anna glanced at Elsa, then back at Hans, a small smile beginning to form on her face. “You seem different, after living with my sister. It’s a good different.”
“Well, I, uh, yes. That is. I.” Was Hans…blushing?
Anna giggled, her smile turning into a full-blown smirk. “Ooooh, I see how it is.” She patted Hans on the shoulder. “Welllll~, I suppose I can forgive you; if you promise to be good to her and lay off on the scheming. We can’t have future Knights running around causing any more unrest now, can we?”
“Yes. Wait, what?!”
-----
(Below the cut: pictures!)
I’ve actually been playing with this au for a while now...well, not an au really, more like I just based the fairy queens in my fantasy/D&D setting on Disney princesses because it was fun. The only oc is Merida’s “knight”, because I didn’t really want to “pair her up” with anyone, so I just made up a character who would also have no interest in getting married and would also balance out her personality. Anyway, here are some designs.
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And the unseelie, just because:
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whatevenisthisbloganymore · 4 years ago
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BNT gift exchange 2020
This is a gift for @ted-and-bill! I hope you enjoy it ^_^
“What do you wanna to tomorrow?” Ted asks, pulling his lunch out of his backpack.
Bill looks at him thoughtfully. “I don’t know, dude. What do you want to do?”
Ted shrugs. With a mouthful of sandwich, he says, “wanna go to yours?”
Bill perks up at this. “Sure!” he says, kicking his legs out and leaning back against the wall. “My dad said he’ll be out until late tonight, and might be gone tomorrow. I think Missy leaving him made him sad.”
Ted hums. “You think?” he says. He isn’t sure if he’s trying to be serious or sarcastic.
They sit there in silence and eat their lunch. Bill brought less than Ted did – the usual way of things, but it doesn’t stop Ted from offering Bill half his lunch anyway. As usual, Bill declines it. Ted’s never sure if he should press the issue and make Bill eat more, but he thinks he’d feel bad if he did.
So they eat, and sit there, and watch the other students pass them by. Or rather, they watch the others, but the others can’t see them. Ted and bill’s favourite spot to eat their lunch is right in the corner of the school’s courtyard, at an awkward angle that makes it easy to see out of, but hard to be noticed by anyone walking by. It’s great for when the two of them just want to get away from everything and just be by themselves.
“Weird that this will the last winter break we have while in school,” Bill muses as they eat.
Ted cocks his head to the side. “You’re right, dude. What do you think we’ll be doing this time next year?”
Bill shrugs. “Maybe we’ll have written the song,” he suggests.
They share a glance. Neither of them dares to say anything further about their excellent adventure while in school, when anybody could hear them. It’s been over a year since it happened, and by this point Ted finds himself sometimes wondering if it was all just a fever dream.
“Yeah, maybe,” Ted says lightly. “That’d be cool.”
When the bell rings, they jump up. “We’re gonna be late, dude!” Bill cries.
Ted, nods, and they run to class, knowing that they’re going to be at least ten minutes late. As they go they briefly hold hands, just enough to remind each other that they’re together even when they have to deal with the trouble that is school.
Even the threat of detention for their tardiness isn’t enough to dull Ted’s excitement about the winter break.
**
When Ted wakes the next day, it’s to very white light making its way under his blinds. He gets up slowly, having enjoyed his lie-in, and goes to see what the deal with the light is.
“Snow…” Ted breathes, looking outside. “It’s snowing!”
From somewhere in the house he thinks he heard deacon shuffling around. Maybe he heard ted, maybe he didn’t.
For a moment, Ted thinks about going to see if deacon wants to play in it. Then he hears the front door bang, and from the vantage point of his window he sees Deacon heading out, bundled up in two coats, a scarf, and a bobble hat. There’s only a smattering of snow on the ground, but at least Ted can respect his little brother’s ability to wrap up warm.
Ted was going to go over to Bill’s anyway today. Now he just has an extra reason to.
He spends more time than usual hunting out his warmest clothes. They’re hidden away, at the back of his closet, unused for a few years. When he finally fishes them out, they’re a little musty, but he puts them on anyway. It all fits, and that’s all Ted really cares about right now.
Without eating, Ted slips out of the house.
Its cold out. Ted knew it would be, but it catches him by surprise anyway. Used to the warm of California, the nip and chill the snow has made makes him shove his hands in his pockets for protection.
As he begins the walk over to Bill’s, the snow picks up its pace. While it had been only slow when Ted first looked out of his window, now it’s becoming thick, the snowflakes becoming chunky and the snow settling on the ground thicker and thicker. It’s a good job Ted could find his way to Bill’s blindfolded, because it’s beginning to look more and more like he’s going to need to work his way through it blind anyway.
By the time Ted reaches bill’s, the snow is several inches deep, and it doesn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. Ted finds himself grinning to himself, looking around at the snow.
There are a ton of kids who have come out to play in the snow, too. Clearly Ted wasn’t the only one who thought it would be fun to go and play in the snow. Ted watches them as he walks, as they throw snowballs and make snowmen.
Eventually he reaches Bill’s house. there are no cars outside the house – thankfully, it looks like Bill was right, and his dad is out.
Knowing that to be the case, Ted lets himself into the house. “Bill?” he calls out as he closes the door behind him.
There are a few moments of silence. For a moment Ted thinks maybe Bill is out instead, and has left the front door locked. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened.
And then Ted hears the sounds of footsteps upstairs. “Dude!” he calls out, unable to see Bill yet.
There are more footsteps. “Dude!” comes the reply. Bill’s head pokes out from upstairs. “You’re early!”
Ted laughs. “I’m not that early. I think the sun might be setting soon!”
Bill rushes down the stairs. “Shut up, Ted,” he teases. Ted knows he doesn’t mean it, though.
Grinning, Ted pulls Bill in for a kiss.
“It snowed this morning,” Ted says excitedly when they break apart.
They air guitar excitedly.
“Let’s go out.” Bill takes Ted’s hand and drags him back upstairs. “Lemme get my coat.”
It doesn’t take very long for Bill to get ready. Ted has to keep himself from staring too much as Bill changes out of his thinner clothes and puts on a sweater.
Then, with great enthusiasm, Bill leads them outside, into the street.
Even with the shouts of all the children around, there’s still plenty of snow around for them to use.
Without hesitation, Ted bends down, grabs a handful of snow, and pushes it down Bill’s shirt.
Bill screeches, and Ted dances out of the way as Bill laughs, and digs for his own snow to throw at ted.
They laugh together like that for a while, throwing snowballs at each other and trying to dodge them as well as possible. Ted finds that he isn’t very good at it – he tends to get too distracted watching his boyfriend’s smile, the way his eyes crinkle as he laughs.
Eventually they call a truce, flopping back into the snow. It should be cold, but the layers Ted’s wearing protects him from the worst of it. Instead, all he gets is the threat of the chill, and the distinct sensation that his outer layers are sodden.
They catch their breath, lying there on the floor.
And then Bill starts moving his arms and legs – and Ted quickly catches on, arranging himself to make a snow angel too.
It’s something he hasn’t done since they were little, but he giggles to himself as they do it anyway.
“Good job, dude,” Bill says appreciatively, as they sit up. “Yours is so much better than mine.”
They compare theirs – Bill’s has managed to become unfocussed, blurring into the snow around it. Ted’s is much sharper, somehow. “Thanks, dude.”
Now that they’ve done it, they go to stand up. Ted winces to feel the moisture on the back of his coat.
Just when they’re getting up from the ground, Ted sees two familiar figures approaching. With the snowing stopped, and as Ted stands, it’s easy to see who it is, even with all the other people around them.
“Hey!” Ted says, jumping to his feet. “How are you guys?”
Missy and Joanna smile at him.
“Hi,” Missy says. Bill stands up behind ted, lagging behind for once. “We thought we’d find you out here.”
“And you were right.” Ted grins at them. “The snow’s cool, isn’t it?”
They share a glance. “It is,” Joanna says. “I think it’s the first time I’ve seen snow since England.”
“Right, right.” Ted nods.
“Will you come see me later?” Bill asks, from behind ted. It’s clearly a question for missy.
Missy bites her lip. “I don’t know, bill,” she says. “You know your father doesn’t want me coming round here anymore. I came to – to give you this.” She passes him a gift. “I know you don’t really celebrate Christmas, but…”
Bill holds the wrapped presently awkwardly. “Thanks,” he says. Ted looks at him. Bill looks nervous, but Ted can’t figure out why.
“We might see you at the new year,” Joanna offers.
Ted nods. “That’d be good,” he says. “But I don’t know if my dad might… you know…” He doesn’t need to elaborate that his dad has cracked down even more on him and Bill seeing each other in the past few months. Ted doesn’t think he knows about their relationship, but he also doesn’t want to test that theory. Not when he knows what might happen if he did.
Joanna nods. Ted thinks he sees pity in her eyes, but he doesn’t want it.
“I know, ted,” she says. “I’ll see you if I can, though. okay?”
Both Bill and Ted nod. “Thanks, Missy,” Bill says.
The girls share another glance. Ted wishes he could understand what the two of them said in their glances – he wishes that communication was always that easy.
But then Bill looks at him, and Ted knows that he doesn’t want to be talking to his ex-stepmom and his ex anymore. They might all be friends, but that doesn’t mean that he always wants to hang out with them. And especially not right outside his house.
Ted tries to be nothing but a good boyfriend. “Thanks for coming by,” Ted says to Missy. It’s a clear dismissal.
Missy seems to pick up on it. “It was good to see you,” she says.
For a moment, it seems like they might go in for a hug. They don’t, though, and with a wave and promises to see each other soon, Missy and Joanna turn around and go back the way they came. They hold hands as they walk. Ted can’t help but feel a stab of envy.
None of it seems to have been noticed by their neighbours, thankfully. Everybody outside is a child, and few parents seem to want to leave the warmth of their homes. Ted thinks they’re all missing out.
Thinking about them makes his thoughts take a different turn, though. Bill’s still holding the present, and Ted gets the feeling that he doesn’t want to stay out here much longer.
So he turns to bill, and wraps his arms around himself. “I’m getting cold, dude.”
“Me too.” Bill shivers dramatically. “Do you wanna go back inside?”
Ted tries not to seem too desperate, but he nods vigorously anyway. “Let’s go.”
They head back in. It’s only now, that they’re out of the cold, that Ted can see how red Bill’s nose and ears have become. It looks painful.
“Let’s get warm,” Ted says. He guides them both into the living room. Bill places the gift on the coffee table, and seems to relax a bit.
They sit on the couch together. Ted pulls Bill into his side, and they press together, Bill wrapping his arms around ted. Ted leans into him. It’s warm inside. and Bill makes it even warmer.
Even as Ted feels bills fingers dig into his side, angling to tickle him, he thinks that he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his winter break.
He wishes that every day could be like this.
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dukedrakes · 5 years ago
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The Strawberry Room (AU)
Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Rose)
Rating: PG-13
Words: 2.7K
Summary: An AU where Drake drops his nephew off at pre-school and meets Rose, his teacher.
I got this idea when I was trying to fall asleep and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since so obviously I had to write it because it was so damn cute.
Don’t forget to tell me what you think, Reblog and Like! Enjoy!
Find my other work here.
Taglist: @carreraleigh @emceesynonymroll @beneath-the-ancient-sign @saivilo @sibella-plays-choices  @drakeswalkers @maxwellshippo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @drakewalkerwhipped @butindeed @choiceslover-24-7
(I curated the tag lost by adding people who wanted to be tagged + people who interacted with any of my posts of or about my fics and/or are mutuals/friends, so if you’d like to be added or removed, let me know!)
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Drake Walker had no idea what he was doing. All he knew was that his 4-year-old nephew starts pre-school in T-minus 45 minutes, and he hasn’t even fed the child yet. Savannah and Bertrand had trusted their son in Drake’s care for a week to have a much-needed break from running the Beaumont estate, but Drake was beginning to think they had made a terrible mistake as Bartie ran through the living room in only underwear with a pirate hat on.
It wasn’t even 8 am and Drake was already more stressed than he had ever been in his life.
“Bartie! Get dressed, you need to go pre-school!” Drake said as he stood at the edge of the living room, watching Bartie climb up on the coffee table with a make-shift sword and pretending to swing it.
“But Captain Lionheart’s ship is under attack from man-eating fish-monsters!” Bartie protested, lifting the constantly falling pirate hat off his brow.
“It may be time to call a truce, kid.” Drake crossed his arms. “At least until this afternoon.”
Bartie thought for a moment before shouting; “Never!” and jumped off the table before thrusting his sword at Drake who had to jump back to avoid being hit.
“Hey! Bartie!” Drake shouted as Bartie ran off down the corridor laughing. “Get back here you little—”
Drake took off after him, skidding on the floorboards as he turned to enter Bartie’s room. Drake saw him jumping on his unmade bed, cackling. Drake bolted to the bed but was too late as Bartie had already jumped off the bed and taken off down the corridor again. Drake ran a hand over his face muttering, “Does he do this every day? How was Savannah deal with this?” before running back out to the living room, which was now silent. Drake sighed, as he looked around for where Bartie was hiding.
“Come on out, Bartie.” Drake carefully walked around couch pillows that have been thrown on the floor. “Your teacher isn’t going to like it if you’re late. Neither will your mom.”
Drake was met with silence as he finally spotted Bartie’s feet peeking out at the bottom of the curtain. Drake crept up closer as quiet as he could before he shouted. “RAAH! Got you, you little rascal!” He scooped Bartie up in his arms and the child laughed hysterically. Drake tickled him as he carried him to the bedroom.
“Stop! Uncle Drake, stop it!” Bartie giggled as he squirmed in Drake’s arms.
Drake laughed and tickled him one last time before he sat him down on the bed and crouched in front of his nephew.
“Alright, buddy. Now, we’ve got to get ready to go so can you do something for me?” Drake asked.
Bartie nodded enthusiastically, his pirate hat falling over his eyes.
“I need you to put on some clothes whilst I make you some breakfast so we can so to pre-school, okay?” Drake said as he removed Bartie’s pirate hat and placed it in his small hands.
Bartie nodded. “When I get back, will you play pirates with me?”
Drake smiled. “Sure thing, little guy. But only if you be a good boy and get yourself and your bag ready.”
“Okay!” Bartie exclaimed and slid off the bed before running to his dresser and rummaging through for some clothes.
Drake stood up slowly and watched his nephew with a small smile on his face as he exited the room to go to the kitchen and throw together some store-bought pancakes (he hadn’t worked out how to use the stove yet) with fruit and Nutella. He finished spreading some Nutella on the pancake as he looked at the time on the oven.
“Shit!” He muttered to himself before calling towards Bartie’s room. “Bartie we gotta go! Pre-school started 5 minutes ago!”
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Drake unbuckled Bartie from his chair seat and lifted him out of the car, grabbed his backpack and Bartie’s hand before running to the pre-school door with him in tow.
“Uncle Drake, you’re going too fast!” Bartie complained.
“Sorry, little guy, but we’re running very late.” Drake said as he slowed a little. “Your mom won’t let me hear the end of this if she finds out” He muttered under his breath.
Drake entered the pre-school building, puffed out and frazzled. “Hi,” He said to the person at the front desk, running his free hand through his hair. “I’m Drake Walker, I’m dropping my nephew Bartie Walker-Beaumont off?” He spoke it more like a question. “This is my first time here and my sister told me the room he was in, but I can’t remember it and I know I’m very late, but can you tell me which room he’s in?” He asked, more embarrassed than ever before.
“Hi, Mr. Walker. Don’t worry about being late. Bartie is room 104, the Strawberry Room. Just head down the corridor and it’s the second room on your right.” The person at the front desk smiled at him and gestured to Drake’s right.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Drake replied and tugged Bartie down the corridor until he reached a door with a large smiling strawberry on it. And it also appeared to be scented.
Drake knocked on the door and opened it, being met with 25 chatty children at desks, making what looked like pasta necklaces.
“Hi! Can I help you?” Said a melodic voice and Drake turned his head to the only adult in the room. She walked forward, wearing a white t-shirt under some denim overalls with a paper tiara on her head, her long ponytail swinging behind her.
“Oh. Um. Hi.” Drake stammered. “I’m Drake Walker, Bartie’s uncle.”
“Hi.” She went to say more when Bartie let go of Drake’s hand.
“Miss Clarke!” He exclaimed as he ran out to hug the woman – who appeared to be Miss Clarke’s – legs.
“Bartie! It’s good to see you, running a bit late today, are we?” She smiled as she bent over to rub his back.
“Sorry about that…uh…Miss Clarke.” Drake said sheepishly. “We’ve had a bit of a hectic morning.”
“I was fighting with the man-eating fish monsters!” Bartie cheered.
She gasped and feigned shock. “Were you?! How terrifying! Did you win?”
“Nope, we called a truce until this afternoon, Uncle Drake is going to help me defeat them!” Bartie explained with excitement.
“Very diplomatic of you. Now,” She said and crouched down to his level. “I’m going to need to you put your bag on its hook and sit at a desk because we’re making pasta necklaces today.”
“Ooh! I can make one for Mommy and Daddy and my uncles!” Bartie said with a grin.
“That’s a fantastic idea! Off you go, I’ll come and see you in a minute.” Miss Clarke said before Bartie ran off.
Drake cleared his throat, not realising he’d been watching her interact with Bartie with a smile on his face. “Again, I’m so sorry for being late this morning…uh…?”
“Oh! Sorry, I’m Rose. It’s nice to meet you.” She said, holding out her hand that was faintly covered in glitter. “And don’t worry about it, things like that happen with 4-year-olds”
“Right.” Drake shook her hand as he smiled at her; she was kind of beautiful.
“So, you’re Bartie’s uncle?” Rose said after a beat of silence.
Drake blinked as if he was manually registering her words before replying. “Uh, yeah. I’m looking after him this week.” He scratched the back of his neck.
“He’s a good kid. Very imaginative.” Rose looked over to where Bartie was sat and enthusiastically gesticulating an, no doubt, engaging story.
“Yeah, I think he has too much of his uncle in him.” Drake said with a smile as he watched his nephew put pasta on his fingers like claws and show the kid next to him.
Rose raises an eyebrow at Drake before he hurriedly clarifies; “His other uncle. Maxwell.”
“Ah, yes. The infamous Uncle Maxwell. I’ve certainly heard a lot about him from Bartie.” Rose smiles.
“I’m sure you have.” Drake replies.
“Lots of bizarre squid stories.” Rose laughs.
“That’s Maxwell.” Drake smiles.
There’s a comfortable silence between them as they watch Bartie together before Rose cleared her throat. “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing more of you then?” Rose asked with a smile.
“Looks like it.” Drake confirmed as he shoved his hands in his jean pockets.
“Hopefully Bartie will defeat the fish-monsters with enough time to get to school tomorrow.” Rose winked as she walked away to help some kids who had spilt pasta everywhere.
“Uh! Of course!” Drake stammered out with embarrassment.
“See you at 3pm, Mr. Walker.” Rose called out, a grin on her face. “Don’t be late.”
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“Ah, good morning, Mr. Walker. Right on time I see.” Rose teased as she stood in the doorway of the Strawberry Room greeting the parents and kids as they arrived.
“I said I would be here on time.” Drake said as Bartie threw his arms around Rose. He didn’t want to tell her that he got up an hour earlier to decider the kitchen stove manual and make sure he had a nutritious breakfast ready for Bartie and had organised his bag the night before. He also didn’t want to tell her that he had had a little talk with Bartie before bed explaining why they couldn’t be late tomorrow.
“Uncle Drake said we had to be on time today so we could impress you.” Bartie grinned.
Drake’s eyes widened. He had been betrayed by a 4-year-old.
“Did he now?” Rose looked up from Bartie and eyed Drake with a sly smile.
“He’s kidding.” Drake quickly said.
“No, I’m not! You said—” Bartie protested before he was cut off by Drake reaching for him and pulling him into a hug.
“Have a good day, buddy! Don’t get into too much trouble!” Drake said as Bartie squirmed against him. “See you at 3 o’clock!”
Bartie pulled himself from Drake’s grasp and ran into the room. Drake stood up and scratched the back of his neck as Rose crossed her arms with a grin on her face.
“Uh…I should probably get going. Errands to run, you know.” Drake deflected as he took a few steps backwards.
Rose just kept grinning that stupidly cute grin that made his heart beat a little faster. “Okay.”
“Right. Bye, Miss Clarke” Drake waved as he turned and scolded himself for being so ridiculous.
“Mr. Walker!” He heard Rose call out from down the corridor. He turned towards her. “For the record, I’m impressed.”
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Drake waited in the corridor outside the famed Strawberry Room with the other parents and guardians. He kept checking his phone for the time just for something to do. It was Friday and the last day of pre-school for the week. Savannah and Bertrand would be back on Sunday night, so this was Drake’s last school pick up for the time being.
Aside from that Monday morning, there hadn’t been any other real dramas this week. Drake got the hang of things pretty quickly and Bartie was more than happy to have his uncle around to play pirates or cowboys or pirates vs. cowboys.
But Drake couldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy dropping him off and picking him up from pre-school. And it wasn’t because he had a few hours to himself. And it also wasn’t because Bartie would bring him a macaroni picture that looked like an octopus, shamefully. But because of his pretty and playfully teasing pre-school teacher. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. With her grin and teasing banter that simultaneously made him embarrassed and gave him butterflies. It didn’t help that she seemed to love Bartie as much as he did.
Every morning and afternoon Drake and Rose would chat for a little bit. He tried to keep the conversations as nonchalant as possible, but Rose’s banter would always surprise him and make him stammer a little. She seemed to enjoy making him flustered, but he wasn’t sure if her teasing was flirtatious or not and this point, he was too afraid to ask. There had been times where she had said something, and Drake had to do a double take in his head as to what it meant. Sometimes it was paired with a smile that was less amusing and more soft and genuine, making him second-guess the encounter entirely.
The one thing he did know, however, was that he liked her.
The door to the room opened suddenly, bringing Drake out of his thoughts. Kids streamed out of the room and ran to their respective parents. He waited for Bartie and it wasn’t long before the little boy came running out of the classroom. Drake crouched down and scooped up Bartie in a hug.
“Hey, buddy! How was your day?” Drake asked as he held him.
“Good! We did painting!” Bartie recounted excitedly.
“Oh, yeah? What’d you paint?” Drake asked, setting Bartie back down on the ground.
Bartie shoved a rolled-up painting in towards him with a grin on his face. Drake took it with a smile and opened it up, seeing a poorly drawn but colourful drawing of one tall person and one little person that were unmistakeably him and Bartie. Bartie had draw his uncle in his classic denim shirt and had put himself in a pirate hat. Drake couldn’t stop the smile that grew on his face.
“That’s awesome, little guy.” Drake complimented.
“It’s you and me!” Bartie pointed out excitedly.
“I can see that. We’ll have to put it on the fridge when we get home.” Drake replied, handing Bartie the painting back.
“The resemblance is uncanny, Mr. Walker.”
Drake looked up and saw Rose leaning against the doorway. She took his breath away even dressed in a pink tutu and fairy wings; another paper tiara adorned her head.
Drake cleared his throat. “You know you can me Drake, right?” He said, putting his hands in his jean pockets, a nervous tick.
“I know.” Rose smiled. “Is this your last day?”
Drake frowned. “What?”
“Your last day picking up Bartie.” Rose clarified, putting some loose hair behind her ear.
“Oh, yeah. It is.” Drake said. “Nice outfit.” He nodded to the sparkly get up she wore.
She looked down at her clothes. “Oh! Uh, thanks. We were playing fairies and elves. I was the fairy queen.” A rare light blush spread across her cheeks.
Drake smirked. “You certainly look like one.”
She blushed again. “Thanks.” Rose scratched the back of her neck. “So, I guess this is the last time I’ll see you for a while.”
Drake scuffed his shoes on the linoleum floor as he said, “Looks like it.”
Rose nodded. “Well, I won’t keep you. It was great meeting you. Take care, Mr Walker. Drake.”
She backed into the room and closed the door, Drake heard it click shut before he let out a breath.
“Can we go get ice cream, Uncle Drake?” Bartie asked, craning his head to look at Drake.
“Hang on, buddy.” Drake said as he walked forward and knocked on the door before he could stop himself.
Rose opened the door a few seconds later, now missing her tiara. She seemed surprised for a second but before she could say anything Drake said; “Do you want to go out sometime?”
Rose blinks in surprised before she smiles genuinely. “That depends. Where would we go?”
“Uh!” Drake stammers, not prepared for a response other than yes or no. “Dinner, maybe? If you’d like. I know this really cool dive bar with great food and drinks as well as this old jukebox that only plays really bad 80’s music and pool tables.” He rambles.
Rose purses her lips. “I’ve never been very good at pool.”
“I can teach you.” Drake smiled back.
Rose smiled again, giving Drake butterflies. “I’d love to.”
Drake beamed. “Oh! Great!”
Rose turned to the shelf next to her and grabbed a bit of paper before scrawling with pink pen something which seemed to be her address and number in cursive script. “Don’t be late.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
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I hope you all enjoyed it! I certainly enjoyed writing it!
Remember to Reblog, Like and let me know what you thought! 
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frickfracksnatchisback · 6 years ago
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Hey! don't know if you've done this already but... snatcher and s/o wedding headcanons? owo
HECK YEAH!!! IT’S WEDDING TIME BABY!!! (Gonna add in a proposal HC to begin with if that’s alright-)
Snatcher is the one who proposes first. Either that, or Snatcher and S/O accidentally propose at the same time! Where you may ask? Probably on a date in Subcon, on top of Snatcher’s tree, gazing at the stars and under the shining moon. Which, as cheesy as that sounds, it’s a tender moment that the two cherish together.
Where will the wedding take place? Why, in Subcon of course! The village gets decked out for the occasion, almost like a royal wedding! (And, just this once, Snatcher invites people to come to his forest to not have their souls stolen)
Hat Kid is the ring bearer and Bow Kid is the flower girl! They both do a lovely job, with HK wearing a cute little suit and Bow wearing a pastel dress. (And Hat Kid gives Snatcher the smug glare almost the entire time)
As much as he doesn’t want to, Snatcher has Moonjumper be his best man. But only to strengthen their truce with each other! (And because Snatcher really has no other options, he wants to appease Moon just once so “he’ll leave him alone”)
CC gets to be S/O’s maid of honor! Which means that CC gets to help S/O with their wedding outfit! And they even get to wear a crown/tiara during the wedding! Their outfit looks so pretty, in fact, that Snatcher is very flustered during the entire wedding.
Speaking of outfits, Snatcher pulls out all the stop for his wedding suit! He wants it to be special, so he goes with a regal-looking style. With a top hat, of course, and a boutonniere made of Subcon flowers! (And he also wears the same bowtie that he wore when he first confessed to S/O~)
Moonjumper might cry and “awww” a bit, but he manages to keep it under control. Until their vows are completed, and both Snatcher and S/O kiss. Then Moonjumper is over the pecking roof, tackling Snatcher into a giant hug afterwards (and nearly choking him to death-)
So, uh, guess who catches the bouquet? It’s CC/Grooves…right next to Conductor! Which Snatcher may or may not point out to make Conductor freak out and lose his absolute mind. Heheheh~
DJ Grooves supplies the music for the reception! Though there’s a good amount of upbeat music mixed in (Which Snatcher will totally admits he hates), there’s a few classical songs that are perfect for everyone to waltz together to! The Subconites, Dwellers, Conductor and CC/Grooves, and especially Snatcher and S/O all get to dance with one another.
As for the bachelor’s party…oh boy. Let’s just say Conductor was hosting that, therefore a lot of people got very drunk. Even Snatcher joins in on the drinking fun! The only one who stays (partially) sober is Moonjumper. But that’s only because he has a surprisingly high alcohol tolerance, compared to Snatcher very low tolerance.
The bachelorette party, however, is much more tame. Mostly because Hat Kid, Bow Kid, and Mu are invited. But also because CC was hosting that, and thought a nice tea party would be much better! So every one of the female characters have a nice time eating cookies and sipping on tea.
Depending on which route you want to go, S/O has to deal with a drunk Snatcher. Though it isn’t all bad, with the two giving each others cuddles and taking a much deserved sleep after a long day. (S/O just has to help Snatcher with his hangover in the morning-) Either that, or S/O got drunk with Snatcher and they both have huge hangovers in the morning. But it was totally worth it!
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blackhakumen · 4 years ago
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Mini Fanfic #659: Trucy and Wocky (Ace Attorney)
8:45 p.m. at Ema and Klavier's Apartment.....
Ema: Soooooooooooooo.........(Turns to Wocky with a Evil Like Smirk on her Face) You and Trucy, huh?~
Wocky: (Already Terrified by Ema's Smirk) We're really going there, are we?
Klavier: (Shrugs While having a Sheepish Smile on his Face) Well, considering how very intrigued Ema is on the topic, I'm afraid we must, Wocky my friend.
Ema: Start talking, boi!
Wocky: (Facepalms Himself While Sighing)........
Meanwhile at Wright Anything Agency (Phoenix and Trucy's Apartment).......
Apollo: (Takes a Deep Breath Before Speaking) So..........You and Wocky!?
Trucy: (Pouts at Apollo While Cuddling with Him and Athena Under a Blanket) Polly! I thought I told you not to relax!!
Apollo: ('Sigh') I know. It's just....This whole news is still pretty new to me, you know? I can't helped but to be surprised by it.
Athena: And we totally get where you're coming from in all of this, 'hon. Trust me, I was pretty surprised myself once she first told me. (Place her Head on Apollo's Shoulder on her Side) But you really shouldn't let yourself get stressed out about this. Especially on your first day back home.
Apollo: ('Sigh') Yeah. (Kiss the top of Athena's Head) You're right, tiger. (Turns to Trucy) Sorry, Truce. I'll try relaxing more for your sake.
Trucy: (Smiles Brightly While Snuggling onto Apollo on her Side) Thank you. It makes me very happy to hear you say that.
Apollo: No problem. So.....do you still want to tell me how you and Wocky got together or.....
Trucy: Of course! It all started a year and a half ago: The Wright Anything Agency was as busy and successful as ever annnnnnnd I was still sad and gloomy at the fact that you were gone.
Apollo: You missed me that much, huh?
Trucy: (Pouts at Apollo While Pulling his Collar) Every. Single. DAY!!!......(Smiles Brightly Again Before Letting Go of Apollo's Collar, Much to his Terrified Expression) So, one day, I went to Mr. Eldon's Noodle Shop, hoping to eat my sadness away....('Sighs Dreamingly') And that's when I saw Wocky-Kins coming in there to check up on me~
...............................................................
Ema: So you went to Eldon's Noddle Shop to eat, only to find Trucy in there, crying, which made you decided to talk to her?
Wocky: Yeah. I had a feeling that she was still pretty down about 'Pollo being gone to Khura'in for awhile, so I thought I would try cheering her up. We talked and laughed for almost two and half hours before we started to call it a day. But.....(Starts Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth While Blushing a Little) Before I even started leaving, I......realized that I like having her as company. So.....I asked for her phone number.
..................................................................
Apollo: He really did all of that?
Trucy: Well, it's more like he blurted out that he wanted my phone number if anything. (Giggles Softly) But he was so adorable when he got himself flustered like that~ Who am I to decline a sweet request? So I gave him my number in exchange for his and went on my merry way home. And....It actually made me happy.
.............................................................
Wocky: So after that, we started texting, calling each other up on ours phone, and eventually started hanging out a lot more often than we ever did before. And they were all pretty fun, at least in my eyes. Then, a few days later, I.... realized that I had feelings for her. So I literally dash my way up to her and Mr. Wright's apartment to tell her, but when I did........
.................................................................
Trucy: I immediately blurted out that I had feelings for him too!~ Then after that, we made it our newly found relationship official by hugging each other, and I brought him into the office to watch a movie and stay the night together, under each other's arms~
Athena: (Raised an Eyebrow at Trucy) Annnnnnnd?
Trucy: (Sighs Before Blushing Bashfully) And....this was the day when daddy was off during his usual trial...
Apollo: (Eyes Widened in Surprised) Seriously?
Athena: (Begins to Smirk Playfully) Yeeeeup~ She was literally gushing all about it when we told me about it on the phone.
Trucy: It's true.........
...................................................................
Ema: (Gives Wocky an Evil Smirk on her Face Once More) Real bold of you to spend the night with Trucy, in her home, while her daddy was away~
Klavier: (Chuckles Lightly) I know~ It was so surprising once he told me about it on the phone.
Wocky: (Glares at the Couple While Blushing Madly) Hey!! I didn't know the guy was out of town that day! And besides, I only stayed there for one day before I went back home.
Ema: Okay. But how does it feel spending the night with her during that time?~
Wocky: (Blush Turns Bright Red Before Sighing in Defeat) It was amazing.......
Ema: Thought so. (Smiles Softly) Still, I'm happy for you, Wocky.
Wocky: You're not just sayin' that to mess with me, are you?
Ema: Relax. My teasing session of you is over. I'm honestly really glad that you and Trucy got together during those times.
Wocky: (Smiles Brightly) Thanks! I'm pretty glad and happy about it myself. (Frowns a Little While Looking Away) I just hope I don't mess it up like I did with Alita....
Klavier: (Puts on a Reassuring Smile on his Face) Wocky, my friend, we talked about this. Everything that happened between you two wasn't your fault.
Ema: Fop's right. The two-timing hoe wasn't even good enough for you to begin with.
Wocky: (Chuckles Lightly) Yeah. You're right. Still worried though.
Ema: (Place her Hand on Wocky Shoulder) Listen, Wocky, if you ever need any advice on this whole relationship deal, don't be afraid to ask the both of us here, okay?
Wocky: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprised) You guys would really do all of that for me?
Klavier: (Smiles Brightly) Why, of course. We are friends after all.
Ema: (Smiles Brightly) Exactly. Plus, you're practically the kid brother of our group. We always got your back.
Wocky: (Slowly Begins to Smiles Softly and Sincerely) Thanks, guys.
..................................................................
Apollo: (Takes a Deep Breath Before Speaking) Alright. It's settled.
Athena: Hm?
Trucy: What's settled, Polly?
Apollo: You and Wocky's relationship...........(Smiles Softly) I approved.
Trucy: ('GASPS') Really!?
Apollo: (Happily Nodded) Yeah. I mean, from what everything you said, it was pretty nice and considerate of Wocky to do all of that for you . Plus, I'd be a lousy brother and friend if I try separating you two from one another. So yeah, If you guys are dating, that's good enough for me.
Trucy: Eeeeeee!~ (Hugs Apollo Very Lovingly) Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much, Polly!~ You have no idea how happy this makes me!!~ (Gives Apollo a Big Kiss on One Side of the Cheek)
Athena: (Happily Hugs Apollo as Well) Oooh~ I'm so proud of you, 'Pollo~ You really are good big brother~ (Lovingly Kiss the Other Side of Apollo's Cheek) ('Mmmwaaah')
Apollo: (Chuckles Lightly While Blushing) Hey. I'm just doing my best being a good one here. B-But I still wanna see Wocky tommorow! About your relationship and all.
Trucy: Okay, but please don't try to scare him too much, okay? Daddy, Momma Maya, and Pearly has done that already.
Apollo: (Chuckles Lightly) Really now? Who do think was scarier?
Trucy: It's....kind of hard to choose really. Daddy uses his scary "My Daughter is Dating a Boy" kind of voice to scare him straight, then after that, Momma Maya puts on dark, twisted smile on her face, followed by Pearly threatening to slap him across the face multiple time, and then there's Athena....
Athena: (Smiles Proudly) I told him I would break his legs if he hurts our little princess.
Apollo: (Gives His Girlfriend a Deadpinned Look on his Face) You seriously told him all of that?
Athena: Of course I did. I mean...('Sigh') Look, I know he's a good guy and everything, but I just wanted to set a good example here. (Smiles Brightly) As a big sister!
Trucy: (Gives Athena a Deadpinned Look on her Face as Well) You mean by threatening my boyfriend that you're gonna break his legs?
Athena: Hey. At least I wasn't as bad as your dad and Pearls.
Trucy: (Pouts at Athena) Doesn't make you any less better!
Athena: (Glares Back at Trucy) Yeah? W-Well......S-Shut your cute face up!
Trucy: Cute? ('Tch') Please! I'm adorable!
Athena: Yeah. Adorably obnoxious.....
Trucy: Was that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?
Athena: Hell if I know!
Apollo: ('Sigh') Yep. I definitely missed you guys alright.
Athena: (Went Back to Hugging Apollo on her Side) We missed you too, Polly!~
Trucy: (Went Back to Hugging Apollo on her Side as Well) Never leave us again, okay!?~
Apollo: (Chuckles Lightly) Relax, girls. (Hugs Both of his Girls Together) I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Promise.
@apollo-justice-for-all
@keyenuta
@26shann
@cyber-wildcat
@italian-love-cake
@ma-lemons
@albion-93
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necrokittytales · 6 years ago
Text
Necrokitty Tales: Trouble in Inkwell Isle (Chapter 25)
Authors’ note: Necrida’s writing will be in italics and SPKC’s writing with be regular font.If you have no idea what this roleplaying thing is, you can start from the beginning here.
This has some nsfw bits! ———————————————————————————
Hilda was sitting in the projection room, over some blankets and pillows. In front of her was Cagney smiling at her, and between them, a wonderful cake lit with candles.
“Is this what you want?” Cagney said to her, holding her hand. She didn’t understand his question but before she could say anything, everything turned dark and lit up again. This time they were sitting at the club. People around them were blurry. Cagney gently took her to the dance floor and danced slowly with her, keeping her very close to him.
“Is this what you want?” He asked again sweetly. Hilda looked at him confused.
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“I… I don’t kn~.” Cagney pinned her down on a soft bed. She gasped in surprise as she felt him rubbing against her body.
“Is this what you want?” He asked again, grinning and with lust in his eyes. Hilda’s back arched as she felt him penetrate her roughly and released a moan of both pain and pleasure.
“Wh- what do YOU want?”  She managed to say between the hard thrusts Cagney was inflicting upon her.
The flower started to pull vines around the bed and started to entangle around Hilda’s body. She felt the vines getting tighter on her chest. She started to suffocate. She couldn’t speak or yell.
Cagney transformed into a terrifying mix of his monstrous self and the crystal dragon. He came face to face to her, and with a deep horrifying voice, he whispered.
“I don’t want to see you again.”
The need for air woke Hilda from her nightmare with a startled shriek. She remained still in her bed, laying on her side for a moment, recovering her breath. She felt something tight in her chest. She look down to see Beppi’s arm wrapped around her - the clown was spooning her.
She looked horrified at him, as he slept sweetly with a teddy bear between them, sucking his thumb. “GET THE FUCK OFF ME!” She yelled, violently pushing the clown off the bed.
“Miss Beeerg!?” She heard a child’s voice calling her. “Mis Beerg! You ok?” She recognized it was Mina. She must have seen the mess at the observatory.
Beppi hit the ground with a thud and a whine. “Honey, not now, I have a headache,” He groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, still hugging the teddy bear in his other hand. He looked to see an irritated, yet distracted Hilda and sidled back up to her. “Looks like you woke up the kids,” he teased. He patted her on head. “Don’t worry, I’ll go get it for you!”
Beppi planted an overdramatic kiss to her cheek before hopping off the bed and running to open the door first before the zeppelin woman could recover.
Hilda stayed on her bed, unbelieving the clown’s boldness to treat her like that. This was already turning out to be a horrible day.  
Mina and Harvey knocked a few more times, paying attention to any sound that came from inside the house.
“You think she’s ok?” The little bat asked worried. They had seen the damage from the observatory from a far and she was understandably worried about the woman.
“She’s really tough,” Harvey pointed out, “for all we know she might actually be the one who broke the roof. She’s done it before.”
The door swung open and Beppi stood there, manic grin already on his face. “Hello there, children!!!” He exclaimed grabbing the two kids and dragging them inside. “I’m about to make pancakes!”
The kids yelled, terrified and tried to escape the clown’s grip. Hilda was alarmed by the shouting and ran down stairs. “Beppi! What the hell are you doing!?”
“He’s gonna kill us!” Mina yelled, clawing at the clown.
Beppi plopped the children at the table. “I’m making pancakes!”
Harvey panickedly looked toward the kitchen. “Made with flour and not children, right?”
“Wellllll I do have a special ingredient that I like to put in the batter. It makes the children really scream.” The horrified faces of the kids left him delighted. “It’s chocolate chips,” he added with a wink.
“Sorry about Beppi,” Hilda started to prepare some tea. “He can be a bit… intense.”
The kids exchanged confused looks but remained at the table. “If you’re not here to kill us… what are you doing here? Did you destroy the observatory too?“ The little b-cat asked the clown, still a bit scared.
Beppi had started making pancakes as Hilda apologized. But at the little bat’s question, he started to giggle again.
"No, no. Hilda and I just had a sleepover is all. I’m here dragon hunting!” He explained.
Harvey paled. “You’re not hunting Grim, right?”
“Nah, that would be too easy. I’m hunting the dragon from the other night. The one you blew up with a churro.”
Harvey gasped. “You mean it is still around?”
Beppi finished making the pancakes in the shape of circus animals and plopped them on the table. “Well not now, but Cagn-eh, I’ve got good knowledge that it might be lurking around this isle.”
Hilda’s eyes twitched at the comment of the clown. Harvey would certainly tell his mom all this, and it would be a matter of hours before the whole isles knew about Beppi’s sleepover.  
"Heheh! Yeah! Eh… don’t tell anyone though. It’s a secret mission!” She tried to persuade the kids, serving them more pancakes onto their plates. “If the dragon finds out there’s a hunter hiding in here, he won’t come back at all!”
“Ficrwept mifion!” Mina said with her mouth already full of pancakes. She swallowed with a noisy gulp. “How can we help?!” She said, excited. This would be a great chapter in her adventure journal.
Beppi whistled. “Wellllll, it’d be nice if we could get Hilda’s tower rebuilt so I could have a higher spot for looking out…but I’d also settle for both of you two keeping a lookout if you see something weird.”
Mina looked at the pancakes and an idea popped in her head.
“We can sell cookies! Like the girl scouts.” She said excited, looking at Harvey for his approval.
Harvey’s ears perked up. “Yeah! We can use my mom’s kitchen and we can go set up in places with a lot of people.”
Beppi waved his hand. “Feel free to use the circus. I’m sure they’ve swept up all the glass by this point.”
Mina yelled of happiness and excitement. “We will make money in no time! But we’re going to need help. We should call Spike!”
While the kids talked, Hilda sipped her tea, thinking that it was actually a good idea. Maybe she should talk to the school principal and make a whole event out of it.
Harvey nodded excitedly. “This is a really good idea!” Hopefully Spike wouldn’t try to bully them but it seemed for now there was at least an okay truce between them.
After eating a bunch of pancakes, the kids decided it was time to leave.
“The sooner we start baking, the sooner we’ll get the money! Don’t worry, Miss Berg! We will help you rebuild your observatory!” Mina said, walking towards the door and waving goodbye.
The sky witch’s heart melted at the kids’ enthusiasm to help her out. Maybe she wouldn’t have to leave after all. “Thank you, kids. I’ll take all the help I can get.”
The kids left in a hurry, heading to Spike’s house.
Hilda eyed one of the pancakes and tried one. “Hmm! This is pretty good, Beppi! I didn’t expect you to know how to do anything else but hotdogs and popcorn.”
Beppi nudged her. “My speciality is my hotdog cotton candy pancakes!” He cracked his fingers. “So what’s on the agenda for you today, Miss Berg?”
The woman made a disgusted face at the clown. “For today, I need to call someone to clear the debris, I got to talk to the mayor see if I can get some money for repairs. That baking thing might be a good idea, I may talk to the school see if we can organize something with all the kids.” She served herself a bit more tea. “What about you?”
Beppi slapped her on the back as she attempted to sip more tea. “Say, that’s exactly what I was going to do! Why don’t we go together?” He started to pick up pancakes and shove them in his pockets. “You should definitely wear that ring though. I don’t want to get smushed by an anvil because I’m walking with you!”
Beppi made her spill some of her tea. “What!? Don’t you have a dragon to catch?” She said frowning at him cleaning the spill.
Beppi threw his hands in the air. “Do you really think I’d be able to catch it if I saw one without you? I can’t exactly float very fast, you know.” The clown made sure to be even more overdramatic than necessary. Cagney did not want her out of his sight. And the last thing the clown wanted to deal with was an angry daisy AND an angry genie.
Just one of them was hard enough.
Plus, he thought as he eyed Hilda’s legs as she bent over to clean the tea spill, she wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. Since Bon Bon wasn’t working out, it wouldn’t hurt to try things with Hilda.
He had a thing for deadly women.
Hilda knew it was pointless to argue with him. He always got what he wanted, so she might as well play along. She finished cleaning and went up stairs. “I’m gonna get ready, don’t come up here.” She said, giving him a threatening look.
—-
On their way to Spike’s, Mina took the chance to explain Harvey what happened to her and Spike when they were in front of the magic mirror with the large dog that tried to come out. And how Spike had spoken fearfully that the dog looked just like his dad. “So I hope his dad is not around…”’
Harvey nodded solemnly. “If SPIKE doesn’t like his dad, I can only imagine how scary he is.”
The two children approached a shack with a fire hydrant up front. There wasn’t much to the house, a couple of big bones in the yard, but otherwise it was just a house. Harvey knocked on it hesitantly and waited.
In a few minutes, a sleepy Spike answered the door. “Hey losers,” he yawned, “What’s up?”
Mina smiled at him. “Hey, Spike! We just found out the observatory got destroyed by the crystal dragon from the carnival. We were going to earn some money to repair it by selling cookies. Would you like to help us? We’re going to need all the hands we can get!”
Spike snorted. “That sounds kinda girly but okay. Lemme just get dressed.”
Harvey paused. “Do you have to ask your dad if you can go?” He asked curiously.
Spike shook his head. “Nah. He’s busy right now. Gimmee a sec.” The bull dog pup shut the door and quickly got dressed. He opened the door again, a little wider this time, allowing Mina and Harvey to see a large figure laying on the couch, snoring heavily. There was an empty jug labeled “XXX” nearby.
Spike shut the door as he stepped out. “Alright lead the way”
Mina felt sorry for Spike. Because of her mother’s line of work, she had been around clubs, and so she was familiar of the negative effects the alcohol produced in people. She decided not to address it, though, and focus on their mission.
On their way to Grim’s, Mina and Harvey told Spike about the night they saw Venus and why was important to rebuild the observatory.
“And without it, how are going to see if there’s life in other planets? Or if evil aliens come to conquer us! That’s why we have to save it,” Mina said, hoping Spike would get onboard for the long run, and not just to use them as an excuse to get away from his dad.
Spike considered it. “If any evil aliens come, I would totally kick their butts. But I guess it would nice to see them coming. So I guess I can help fix it.”
Harvey nodded. “Great! As soon as Mina is done with her flying lesson, we will get started!”
The kids reached the dragon’s tower and knocked at the huge door. Seconds later, Grim opened the door with a smile. “I was starting to t-think you forgot about our classes.”
“Hi, Grim! Actually, we have an important mission today, and I was wondering if we could make it a short class?” Mina asked, holding her hands on her back.
“W-why?” The dragon asked, curious.
The kids explained what happened to the observatory and told him about their idea to help Hilda earn money for repairs.
“Aww, kids! T-that is a wonderful idea! I would like to help. You could cook here, I got a huge oven I barely use.” He went inside his tower signaling the kids to follow him to the kitchen.
“What type of cookies should we make?” Harvey asked as they walked in.
“If anyone says oatmeal raisins, I’m going to give you such a bad charlie horse!”
Mina wondered what was a charlie horse, but knowing Spike, it was probably something painful.
Harvey winced. “How about chocolate? Or sugar cookies?”
Grim opened the oven to show the kids, and they were surprised to see they could all three fit in if they wanted to.
They had the oven, now they needed the ingredients. A sudden realisation hit the little girl.
“Uh… guys… I just realized we need money to buy the ingredients….” She said searching in her pockets.
Harvey huffed. “Darn. I didn’t think about that. We could go ask my mom if we could have some money.”
Spike scratched his ear. “Why don’t we ask the Baroness if she has the dough we can borrow?”
Even though Grim would love to go see Bon Bon again, he knew how busy her agenda was, and he wouldn’t like to bother her for something this small.
“I t-think I have enough ingredients for a first b-batch. No need t-to bother the Baroness.” The dragon searched in his pantry and tooked the ingredients. “Hey! I even have some ch-chocolate left.” He said, happily surprised.
“Oh great! We can make chocolate chip cookies!” Mina said excited.
“And while t-they bake we can start your flying lessons,” Grim added, preparing the tools to make the mix. He also grabbed a few chairs so the kids would reach the counter and help with the preparations.
They all had fun making different shapes for the cookies and finally, it was time to bake.
As Grim said before, they went outside for a quick flying lesson for Mina, who was improving very fast. The dragon thought she was a quick learner, but the truth was he was a very good teacher. He didn’t notice, but he even stuttered less when he focused on his lessons.
Finally, the time for testing the first batch arrived. They all took a cookie and ate at the same time, only to spit it almost immediately. They could only taste the bitterness of the flour and the texture was all dusty. If it wasn’t for the chocolate chips, the cookies wouldn’t have any flavor at all.
After drinking some lemonades to wash up the taste, Grim admitted it was time for professional help, and flew with the kids to Bon Bon’s castle. They landed at the door and Grim asked politely to one of the guards  if it was possible to get an audience with Bon Bon.
The Baroness was in the midst of some paperwork when one of the guards knocked on her door. She glanced up irritably. “What is it?”
“Sorry to disturb you, Baroness, but you have some visitors.”
“I’m rather busy at the moment.”
“It’s Grim Matchstick and some children.”
The Baroness raised an eyebrow. “Oh, well, that’s different.” She excused the guard and checked herself in the mirror subconsciously, patting down her hair and straightening her dress before walking out to the entrance, calm and regal.
“Grim, what a delight to see you and the little ones. What brings you to my castle? Are you having another flight lesson?”
Grim discretely wiggled his tail happy to see the Baroness.  Mina did a knight salutation with her fist on her chest.
“Hello, Bon Bon! We’ve just finished t-the lesson, but we’re here for something else.” Helped by the kids, the dragon explained the situation of the observatory, how they wanted to sell cookies to earn money to rebuild it, and the fiasco their first batch was. “So, c-could you help us out? M-maybe you have an easy recipe we can follow?”
Bon Bon’s eyes lit up at the request. “Of course. But perhaps we could do accomplish this task best in my personal kitchen? I have quite the confectioneries to work with,” she suggested, beckoning the small group to follow her.
When no one immediately declined the invitation, the Baroness led them to the kitchen. It was almost surreal. Cupboards upon cupboards of every topping and sugar and flour and cream known through the isles. There was honey and molasses and cherries and raisins. Almost too much to count.
She knelt down to Mina’s level. “So what type of cookies are you looking to make?”
Mina’s eyes widened at the view of all the ingredients. There was even stuff she never saw before. The Baroness’ question brought her back from her thoughts. “Oh! Uh, we tried to make chocolate chip cookies, but, anything will do! As long as it taste good.” She chuckled looking at her friends for their approval.
Harvey and Spike nodded, equally gobsmacked by the selection of baking supplies. The Baroness nodded and began to pull out ingredients. “Grim, can you hand me the cookie cutters on the shelf up there?”
Harvey brightened up. “Hey, do you have any star shaped ones? Since we’re doing this for Hilda?”
“Oh! Good idea, Harvey!” Mina patted the little bunny.
Spike clapped his paws together. “Oh! Aliens! Got any aliens?”
Bon Bon nodded. “I’m sure I have the stars. Grim, do you see any aliens or other space ones up there?”
Grim looked on the shelves and found cookie cutters in.the shape of stars, half moon, a couple of rockets and a planet with its halo.
“Would t-this suffice?” The dragon showed the shapes to the kids. Mina nodded excited.
“They’re going to look awesome!”
Bon Bon could easily turn out rows upon rows of cookies by herself but she knew that this would defeat the purpose of the children raising the money so she helped instruct them how to put the right amount of flour and sugar ratios.
Spike learned how to beat an egg. He was quite pleased with himself and even Bon Bon was impressed by how naturally he could do it. “I’ve beaten a lot of things,” he chuckled, much to Harvey’s chagrin.
Harvey meanwhile loved to roll out the dough, putting flour on the rolling pin so as not have it be too sticky.
The Baroness had Mina pick and choose ingredients as she saw fit, making a batch of chocolate and then a batch of sugar cookies next.
Grim was delighted to see the Baroness  explaining to the kids how to prepare the cookies. His imagination quickly drifted to a future with her. But that bubble quickly burst, realising the big differences between them. Even if they could, somehow, manage to do it, not to brag, but it would probably destroy her.
Besides, Bon Bon probably didn’t want him romantically. Sure they had fun together, and she often would pet him and stroke his head, but did she see him only as a pet?
He glanced nervously at the Baroness from time to time while helping the children to cut the shapes into the dough.
The Baroness was unaware of Grim’s inner turmoil, helping the children to get the first batch of cookies onto the tray. She went to open the oven only for her brow to furrow.
“The oven’s cold,” she realized, “The pilot light must have gone out.” Someone would pay dearly for that but until then, she would have to think of something else.
“Grim,” she called, breaking the dragon from his thoughts, “would you be a dear and help relight the pilot light?”
Grim nodded. “O-of course!” He got close to the oven and softly blew a small flame to turn it on. Mina was amazed at how easy he made spitting fire look.
“While we wait, we should think of a spot to put our stand. Or should we go door to door?” Mina asked her friends.
Harvey thought about it. “We should choose a spot to sell the cookies and maybe someone can go tell people we are selling cookies?” He suggested.
“Didn’t that dumb clown say we could use his circus?” Spike asked.
“You’re right, Spike! Oh! And we’re going to need a big sign so people can see us from far!” Mina started to get really excited and was imagining a neon sign guiding people to their huge stand.
The Baroness left the kids to work with the oven, catching the sight of a piece of paper to the side of the kitchen counter. She picked it up and read it over, her facing becoming slightly irritated. “It appears we are behind on a cake order,” she realized, “what with the pilot light being out.” She ran her surprisingly clean hands through her hair. “It’s a large cake…and I’ve set the baker home already.” This would take forever on her own, even with knowing the recipe by heart.
Noticing her irritation, Grim shyly approached her. “Em, well, c-can I help?” He said, playing nervously with his cookie dough covered claws.
Bon Bon nodded. “Yes, I suppose. We might get a bit dirty though. Let me change real quick into something a bit more comfortable?”
“Of c-course!” The dragon nodded and washed his hands in the sink. His mind drifted again and wondered what Bon Bon looked like without all those layers on. He shook his head to prevent his imagination to go further. That did remind him however, he had his letter to recover from Hilda! Maybe later tonight he could swing by and ask for it. He hoped Hilda hadn’t opened it yet.
Bon Bon departed to her chambers and quickly changed into a shorter dress and blushed. She almost felt naked with something with only one layer but she knew she would quickly overheat in her regular outfit what’s the oven going and working next to Grim who generally seemed to run hot.
She stepped back into the kitchen, pulling a book from one of the shelves. “How familiar are you with Grand Marnier cake?” She asked, trying to be nonchalant about it, even as she felt highly sensitive in her outfit.
Grim was astonished when he saw the lovely frame of the Baroness in that light dress, and could only mumble his answer. “Uh…um… eh… .”
The Baroness began to pull ingredients as she could hear the excited children making another flying saucer batch of cookies. “It’s a bit of a more difficult cake to bake but I think we could do it. Are you sure you’re okay to help me?”
The dragon managed to snap out of it and nodded. “Yes! I want t-to help. What do you need me t-to do?” He asked nervously, trying to not stare at her.
“I’m going to need you to start mixing with this while I pour ingredients in.” She gestured to a large bowl and whisk. “It gets really tiring to have to do both at once,” she admitted.
“Okay.” The dragon nodded again and started mixing.
After a few minutes Grim started to feel awkward and decided to say something about her dress. “Y-you look delicious, by the way….” He realised how horrible that sounded and quickly tried to correct himself. “I mean! The d-dress looks delicious cause…what is it made of? M-marshmallow? I-I-I didn’t mean as… you are delicious… just… eh…oh b-boy….” He started to rumble, red of embarrassment and whipping the mix way too hard and not daring to look at the Baroness.
The Baroness awkwardly laughed. Her family had been very concerned when Grim first showed up that the dragon would indeed eat her up along with anyone else on the isle.
Obviously by the fact that everyone was still alive and well that this wasn’t the case and Grim ended up being a very nice, innocent dragon. A little too innocent, she lamented to herself.
Sometimes when they were alone, she wanted to do a little more than tea and giggles. But there was no way such a shy dragon such as himself would be up for that. So she took care of things herself, imagining what it would feel like.
Bon Bon especially liked the daydream she’d have where he really would be eating her up…just a little further down is all. She realized she had turned a bet heated at that and tried to respond to what Grim said as she fanned herself. “Yes, it’s marshmallow…probably not the best choice. It’s so warm in here, I would love for you to eat it off.”
She froze. “Uh, take it off. Wait, I mean, I would love to take it off with you. Cause…excuse me one moment,” she calmly walked out of the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. Only once she was out of sight did she splash it on her face.
“Control yourself, you’re a Baroness,” she ordered herself quietly
Grim was dumbstruck by what he heard, or thought he heard. She wanted him to EAT her dress off? He blushed heavily. He could feel his body heating up at the thought. But she didn’t really say that…did she?
He glanced quickly at the children to make sure they didn’t get any of what just happened. They seemed too focused on making the perfect shape for the cookies and creating slogans to boost their sales.
“If it rhymes, it will bring bigger dimes!” He heard the little bat chant to prove her point to the other two.
“How about, buy our cookies or else?” Spike suggested.
Even Harvey had to giggle a bit, enjoying the sugar high from working with all the baking supplies.
The Baroness cooled off enough to come back in, a smile on her face. “How’s the whisking going?” She asked. She saw how quickly he was stirring and she frowned. “Oh! Slow down a little bit otherwise you may beat the air out of the mixture!”
Mina shook her head. “Oh, Spike. Violence is not the answer for everything. Mind games is.” She smirked. “We need to make people believe they need our cookies, or their lives would be miserable.”
Grim was still very red and he didn’t dare to look at Bon Bon. He did slow down his movements and started to mix more gently. “Like t-this?” He asked shyly. He couldn’t get the idea of devouring her outfit out of his head.
The Baroness smiled at Grimm’s careful whisking. “Yes, that’s it. Not too rough. can’t be too rough with this stuff, otherwise it won’t be so fluffy. Now for the final ingredient.” With the children distracted, the Baroness withdrew a brown bottle from a discrete cupboard.
It was liquor. Grand Marnier to be exact. “We don’t want to accidentally pour too much, otherwise this will become quite a boozy cake.”
Hearing the Baroness explaining him with a gentle tone aroused him even more. He felt the pressure in his crotch and knew he had to get out of sight immediately.
“Uh! I g-g-gotta use the bathroom!” He said pushing the bowl into Bon Bon’s hands and running out of the kitchen to go to the nearest toilet.
Mina kept thinking out loud. “Hm… if your day sucked, take a bite back… hm… if you want to help Berg… buy our cookies, you turd!” She chuckled.
Bon Bon blinked in surprise at Grim’s rapid departure. She placed the bowl down and started to add the liquor. “Huh, maybe he was overheating too?”
Grim locked himself in the bathroom. It was a service bathroom, for the kitchen staff, so it wasn’t as impressive as the ones reserved for the guests, but it was good enough for the heated dragon.
He immediately opened the sink and splashed his face with fresh water and looked at himself in the mirror. “K-k-keep it together, Grim! You’re not an animal!” He scolded himself, feeling embarrassed and ashamed of his natural impulses.
The pressure between his legs started to turn from irritating to painful. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer.
He looked around desperately and noticed the bathtub. Maybe a cold shower might calm him down. It would be weird to explain to Bon Bon why he was taking a bath in the service restroom.
He ground his teeth and decided he would worry about that later, and opened the water to fill the bathtub.
“C'mon,c'mon, c'mon!” He whispered while the water painfully filled the tub at a slow rate. He held his crotch to make sure his piece would stay put, but it only made him want to rub himself against his own hands.
“Enough!” One of his extra heads popped out alarmed. “Shame on us! You’re in the Baroness Von Bon Bon’s castle, you perv! And there are kids and everything in here!”
“I knew this was gonna happen!” The last head interrupted. “We should masturbate more often! I keep telling ya! This is not healthy to bottle it all up!”
“Guys! Not the b-best time to argue who’s right.” Grim pointed down at his now erect penis.
“Quick! To the bathtub!” Said the first head, and Grim obeyed.  The tub was too small for the dragon, but he managed to fit his rear in, spilling half of the water all over the bathroom.
“Oh, for Christ sake!” All three heads spoke at the same time. They looked down to see if the cold water was doing its job, but their piece stood there just as hard.
“Okay… let’s get this over with.” The second head broke the awkward silence. “We gotta do it.”
The first head looked at him horrified. “You want us to masturbate? Now!? Are you insane!?”
“Well, it’s either a quick relief or go back out there with a fourth head. You think she won’t notice THAT?” The second head said sarcastically.
Grim sighed. He was starting to think he was right. Since it had been so long since he paid any attention to himself. It was be quicker to just do it and go back like nothing happened.
“You are disgusting! At least let’s fly back home….”
“Yeah… haven’t you noticed the big red flag we’re hoisting?”
Grim shushed them. “K-keep it down!” He whispered and looked again at his crotch. “Maybe if I hurt myself will g-go away.” The other heads looked at each other, worried.
Grim drew his tail to his mouth. “Okay…just a little b-bite would do.” His tail was now between his teeth, but he was too scared to close his jaws.
The third head was tired of waiting and pushed Grim’s jaw roughly down, causing all three heads to growl in pain. They stood silence for a few seconds to hear if somebody was coming.
They didn’t hear anything, and now they were hurting in two parts, not just one.
“Well, that was pointless. Can we, please, just, touch ourselves?” The third head started to get anxious. “We already have the material to work with,” he smirked maliciously.
“Ugh! Fine! I still think this is filthy and we WILL regret it!” The first head said, blushing, thinking of ‘the material’ the other head was referring too. Grim blushed heavily and looked away from his crotch.
The Baroness was starting to become concerned when Grim didn’t return within a few minutes. She thought about trying to find him however, she didn’t want to leave the children alone with the high powered furnace. Luckily, she spotted one of the Jelly Bean Bakers walking by and quickly called him to attention.
“Watch the children while I locate Matchstick,” she ordered, keeping her voice stern and authoritative.
“Yes, Baroness, of course. I believe I saw him near one of the service washrooms.”
“Thank you.” She paused as the Jelly Bean approached the children with oven mitts. Why on Earth’s name would he be over there? He knew where the guest restrooms were. Maybe he was looking for a glass of water?
She poured a glass from the bottle next to her and quietly walked out of the kitchen to find him. She didn’t hear anything as she approached the washroom and was about to consider that her servant had been incorrect when she picked up the slightest of groans.
She approached the door, the groaning continuing, now a little bit louder and heavier. That sounded like Grim. Was he having a stomach ache? Perhaps he’d eaten one too many of the ingredients they were using. It sounded like he was trying to talk to himself, maybe to make himself feel better?
“Hmm, what did she say again? She wants you to eat her dress off… yum!” He said, slowly licking his lips with his long pointy tongue.
Grim reached down slowly and twitched at the touch of his hand against his very sensitive part. He delicately wrapped his hand around the tip and started stroking very gently. They all bit their lips at the pleasurable sensation.
“Ohh… this is so wrong,” the first head said nervously. "We better hurry up, they’re right next door.”
“Hey, hey, calm down.” The third head whispered. “Focus on Bon Bon’s delicious marshmallow dress.”
“Probably melting with the heat in the kitchen.” The fist one added innocently. He was just stating the fact, but realised how Grim was stroking a bit more vividly at the thought of the melting dress.
“I would have t-to lick all of it.” A silly smile grew on his face.
Lick all of what? The bowl with the cake mix? Bon Bon was puzzled. 
Licking the bowl would just get him sicker if he was having a tummy ache. She can hear another voice now speaking and realized it was one of his heads. Goodness, he really wasn’t feeling well if those two had popped up.
“Oh yeah! That’s what I’m talking about. And we would help you out! We cover the north… and you go aaall the way south.” The third head smiled widely, feeling the more rhythmic strokes Grim was giving to himself.
That, that didn’t sound like baking. If she didn’t know any better, Bon Bon would have almost thought he was talking about…
The dragon heads all tried their best to moan as little as possible, but it was hard to keep themselves from groaning after a long time of neglect.
“I would….” Grim continued. “I would stick my t-tongue all the way inside her. I wonder if she tastes as sweet as she smells.” Even in cold water the dragon was really hot. He let his tongues hang from their heads, panting softly.
The sound of the dragon moaning made the member of royalty stiffen. Bon Bon turned as red as a tomato as the image of cute little Grim shattered as the dragon managed to purr out such sensual words.
She stifled a gasp with her hand as his words triggered a needy twitch within her abdomen. Her eyes darted around worriedly for any other witnesses but there was none.
“I want to give her so much pleasure,” the first head spoke this time, delirious from the good sensations.
"I want to bite every part of her delicate body.” The other head added breathing heavily.
BonBon sent her fingers on her lips trailing down against her neck and the suddenly very tight feeling of the hem of her dress.
Who was he talking about that had the dragon so worked up? His heavy panting and the lack of other servants emboldened her actions, the free hand having dipped further so it was needing her now very sensitive breasts. She entertained the idea he was lusting after her and a desirous thrill made her body shiver with the thought.
“I want to show her how much I love her….” Grim said stroking his piece more violently.
The Baroness froze at that line.
Grim was in love with someone? Her mind raced with thoughts of who it could be. She had always thought that the dragon had a crush on her, but hearing him like this, learning about a side of him that she had no idea existed, she wondered if she had been completely wrong about that.
Sure, the dragon had asked her out, but perhaps it had been friendship? He never said he liked her or anything. Guilt and shame began to press in, small during the desire that had sparked up at hearing him speak like this. She was the one who pressed little kisses to his cheek, not the other way around. And there were times during summer where he disappear for days, even weeks on end sometimes in the summer… Was he seeing someone else?
Without realising they had an audience, Grim and his heads all started to moan and groan a bit louder. “I want her… only her…. I need her to scream my name!”
Bon Bon felt so foolish. She backed away from the door and took a shaky swig of the water, only to nearly choke as she realized should accident report herself a glass of the Grand Marnier liquor. It burned as it went down her throat, and she quickly hurried down the hallway, stifling a cough and perhaps the beginning of an unhappy sob.
Grim could feel he was pretty close to climaxing. He kept imagining the delicate frame of Bon Bon under his hungry tongues, dipping inside her as deep as they could reach, feeling her twitch and moan his name.
“Oh, Bon Bon!” All three heads growled climaxing releasing a heavy load. He tried to recover his normal breathing, caressing himself slowly while his erection, finally satisfied, softened away.
"I can’t believe we just did that….” The first head said, embarrassed.
“Wow, we REALLY needed that!” The third one added. “Maybe next time I suggest something, maybe you’ll listen to me, huh?” The first head rolled his eyes and Grim was still in the blissful afterglow to pay any attention.
He stood up, emptied the bathtub and washed himself. The fresh water was very welcome. Now that he was relaxed, the other heads returned to the body and he started to get ready to come out again.
—-
As a future explorer, Mina was very observant, she figured out something was wrong between Bon Bon and Grim and now that they both left she dared to ask.
“You think Grim and Bon Bon had a fight? I feel like something is wrong between them….”
Harvey looked around, realizing that Mina was correct. Both the Baroness and Grim were gone. “Maybe we should go look for them?” He suggested.
The kitchen doors opened abruptly and the children jumped up in surprise. The Baroness had walked in, looking slightly just shoveled. Upon realizing she was being watched, the woman straightened herself out, placed an empty glass she had been carrying on the counter, and coolly smiled.
“I apologize,” she began, “I was worried that Grim was having a stomach ache.”
Spike laughed. “Haha, that sucks.”
Harvey’s ears drooped. “Is he okay?”
“Yes, I’m sure he’ll be joining us later. Let me see how your cookies have come out.” She wiped her eyes and approached. Spike sniffed the air, slightly confused. "You kind of smell like my dad right now,“ he noted.
She appeared taken aback. "Does your dad smell of sugar?”
“Not exactly…nevermind. Look at my alien cookies. This one is eating Harvey’s astronaut cookie.”
After a few minutes, the dragon got out of the bathroom, still blushing of embarrassment, but much more relaxed. He took a deep breath before entering the kitchen, waving his hand to the kids.
“H-hey! Sorry about that. I had a t-tummy ache. Probably from the first batch of cookies we made.” He smiled awkwardly.
“Oh! You feeling better?” Mina asked, worried.
“Uh, y-yeah, don’t worry! I’ll be fine….” He turned even more red. “Are t-the cookies done baking?” He asked Bon Bon, playing with his fingers nervously and avoiding eye contact.
Bon Bon swallowed, pushing down the last of the bile in her throat and appeared very calm. “Yes, the first few batches are done. I think the kids will be ready to go sell in an hour or so.” She made sure to also not directly look at Grim nor touch him at all, not even a brush with her shoulder.
Harvey hopped up and down. “I forgot, where did we say we’re going to sell these?”
“We could try next to the third isle bridge. A lot of people pass by. Or near the balloon tree,” Mina proposed.
Spike whistled. "I haven’t been to the third isle in a while. Plus, if they don’t buy a cookies, we can throw them over the bridge!”
“I am going to pretend I didn’t hear that last part,” Harvey muttered starting to pack away the cookies for transport.
Grim hadn’t noticed Bon Bon’s cold shoulder for he was still thinking of what he had done minutes ago, and that made him lose focus on what was going on. He did hear the Baroness and he nodded.
“G-good, good….” He wanted to leave but leaving the Baroness alone with the kids would be kind of rude, so he decided to stay until the batch was done. “Eh… what about your cake, Bon Bon? Anything else help with?” He asked looking for the bowl they were working on.
Baroness hardly heard Grim initially. She realized what he had asked and that a response was probably necessary. She looked at the half finished cake batter and shrugged. It had been whipped too harshly, she doubted it would rise. She probably could have saved it, but the idea no longer appealed to her.
“No, that will be all. Thank you, Grim,” she responded politely.
“O-okay.” Grim answered, starting to suspect something was wrong with her, but he shook his thoughts, thinking it was probably him being paranoid. He helped the kids to finish packing up all the cookies and they were soon ready to go.
“Thank you very much, your highness.” The little bat bowed to Bon Bon. “Thanks to you we will save the observatory!” She smiled at her, truly grateful for her help.
“Yeah, t-thank you very much, Bon Bon.” Grim smiled and forced himself to look at her, turning really red, afraid she would see through his eyes to see what he did earlier.
The Baroness politely nodded. “Of course. I’m afraid I don’t have the type of dough that Ms. Berg could really use, but my kingdom would like to help in any way that we can.” She motioned for one of the jelly bean guards to approach.
“I’ll have you escorted safely to the bridge when you are ready. I would hate for somebody else to just steal them away before you get a chance to sell them.”
When they were at the door, Grim said goodbye to the kids who left with the escort Bon Bon had assigned them.
The dragon gathered the strength to talk to the Baroness. “S-say.. uh… t-thank you again for helping…  hmm… I was wondering… if you’re not t-to busy, perhaps … you would like to come by later? I bought this new forest t-tea blend I think you might enjoy….” He said shyly, smiling trying to sound normal.
The Baroness almost instinctively said yes but stopped herself. Knowing that Grim was involved or at least romantically interested in someone else, it would not look good for her to continue her frequent visits to his home. People would talk, especially if any of them had spotted Grim’s beau.
The last thing she needed was to tarnish both her and Grim’s name with people thinking they were engaged in something sordid.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I have some delegations I need to attend to. Perhaps another time?”
Grim dropped his ears sad to hear that. “Y-yeah, whenever you’re free. Uh… I’m gonna g-go now…. t-thanks again… .” And with a couple of powerful flaps, the dragon flew away to his tower.
—-
Amoury sat in front of a wounded and tired Carlos. They were in a simple hotel room, and at the door there was Francis and Connor, the gorilla and toad who were assisting Carlos in recovering the cargo.
The spider was furious, but you could only tell by the deadly look he gave to the cat, for he didn’t spoke a word to him. In his hand, he held a glass of brownish liquor, making a tinkling noise with the ice hitting the glass.
“Amory… I know I… kinda messed up things… but it wasn’t all my fault. The guy wanted to check the cargo! Mc Crabbe didn’t tell him about our… arrangement… and this masked cat, popped out of nowhere!” Amory hold a hand to signal him to stop talking, and took a sip of his glass. Carlos rolled his eyes. He knew Amory had a taste for the dramatic acts, but this ‘silent type’ was starting to get to his nerves.
“You said you were ready for the job, Buenaventura.” Amory said calmly.
“You can just call me Carlos.” The cat smiled. “Buenaventura is kind of a mouthful.”
The spider didn’t find anything amusing in his comment, and glared at him with his five eyes. Carlos gulped. “Buenaventura sounds fine!” The cat quickly added. “And, again! I was ready! just… I miscalculated… I should have listened to my mamá and stayed in school.”
Amory left the glass roughly on the table with a loud thud. “Three quarters of the cargo, Buenaventura. Three quarters, gone….” He kept that disturbingly calm tone.
Carlos dropped his ears. “Well, let’s stay positive! Thanks to Francis and Connor here….” He pointed at the two at his back. “We recover one quarter! That’s better than nothing! … right?” He forced a smile but it erased from his face when he noticed one of the spider’s eye twitch. “Mmmkay… I’m going to shut up now.”
The spider finished his glass with one gulp and left the glass softly on the table this time. “You will keep an eye on Sullivan Wells, and you better pray that this… masked cat won’t interfere with our business, Buenaventura. I can get us out of this one, but we won’t be so lucky next time.” He gestured the cat to leave. “You have two days to recover. Then, come see me here.”
Carlos nodded and, with a bit of difficulty, he stood up from his chair and left the hotel, heading toward Cagney’s garden.
Cagney had probably had one of the worst sleeps he had ever had in his life. Grim hadn’t really been up to taking visitors, so he kind of made camp at the edge of his garden. But the city kept him up. All the loud noises and screams from Beppi’s circus kept jostling him awake. And he could have sworn he heard fireworks coming from the third isle.
So, he was irritable, a little more than normal at least. He was tired, sore and maybe just a tad pent-up. He did have quite a few lewd dreams with Miss Hilda that he would have greatly enjoyed except for the fact he was getting woken up every 30 to 45 minutes.
As he crossed the bridge connecting the second and third Isle, he can hear the whistling of the boat coming into harbor and could smell the salty air. Plants weren’t so much a fan of the ocean water, due to its high concentration of salt, but Cagney could appreciate any form of natural thing in this part of the industrialized Isles.
He was close to Rumor so now he was starting to run what he was exactly going to say through his head. If he could even get an audience. The bee was a peculiar one. His mind was so preoccupied, he hardly noticed the orange furry cat darting to and from between nearby shipments on the dock.
—-
Another day, another heist. Hopefully. Although this one was slightly different than Amber’s normal targets. According to Sully’s charts, this was a honey delivery. But not just any honey. Royal jelly honey. The premium stuff, the top shelf stuff, the stuff that they kept locked behind the counter to avoid people like her getting her paws on it.
Oh, not that Amber should probably touch that stuff. She could only imagine how sticky it would get her fur, and how much it she’d have to groom and bathe herself before would finally come out. But, it was worth a lot, and considering what a bust last night had been was losing the rest of the weird magical exploding gems, it was a risk she was willing to take.
Actually, it was probably a slightly greater risk as she was doing this in the afternoon. Trying to steal when the sun was up at any point, was never the best idea. But if at night, people with guns were going to shoot her, she was willing to deal with a possibility of getting spotted rather than getting shot..ted.
She watched the dock workers carefully unload the stuff and noted the absence of bee guards. Amber would have thought the cargo of this quality would result in the Queen Bee’s own guards standing guard but it didn’t appear to be the case.
Amber sidled a little closer to the boxes of honey, holding in her hand a sturdy flask. Even one glass at the stuff could net a hefty sum and would have her rolling in catnip for weeks if she so desired.
Sullivan had just started his shift. His coworkers kept asking him questions about last night and he  started to grow tired of the attention. He tried to focus on his schedule for today and he sighed tiredly. Royal Jelly for Rumor Honeybottom. He hated to deal with the bees. They were all very pompous and spoke down to him, even though he was the one making sure their cargo was safe.
The big boat arrived and Sullivan order people around to get the crane’s ready for the unload, while he went to the shack to notify the bees of the arrival of their honey. The corkers did as they were told, and carefully stacked the boxes at the dock, next to many other bigger ones hiding them from simple view.
“We will send our people immediately to pick up the honey.” A male’s voice answered on the other side of the line that Sullivan dialed. “Please, take good care of it! And in the name of her highness Honeybottom, thank you, once again, for your service and we apologize for our delay.”
Sullivan rolled his eyes. “Its ok, Gary, you don’t have to be so formal with me.”
“Actually, I do!” The voice whispered. “ Our beloved queen has ordered to do an inspection in all sectors of the hive. Her majesty wants to do 'adjustments’ on the personnel.”
“Adjustments? What do you mean? Like fire you?” Sullivan couldn’t help but ask.
“No… her graciousness prepared a program to turn every bee who’s not working 100% into a model worker. Robert got busted resting his eyes for a minute after a ten hour shift, and when he came back from the program…it wasn’t the same Robert. If you go tonight at the joint, I’ll tell you more about it.”
“You’re just exaggerating!” Sullivan grumbled, “Robert is a lazy ass, and you’re no better either. You should have been here forty minutes ago! I bet the program is just a friendly reminder of your obligations as workers or something like that,” Sullivan tried to rationalize. “Now hurry up, we’re running out of space and we’re still waiting for more shipments.”
They both said goodbye and Sullivan hung up, picked up some more papers and got out of the shack walking back to the honey cargo.
Cagney watched the dock workers unload whatever shipment they were getting in next. It didn’t really concern him too much and he was about to keep walking toward the hive when the flash of brown caught his eye.
He looked again to see a familiar looking feline lurking near one of the isolated boxes. He felt himself tense up, but stopped himself. He had literally attacked two other mammals in the last week in a case of mistaken identity. he shouldn’t just be jumping through violence whenever he thought he found the burglar.
And then he saw her take out a bag and slip on a mask and start to dig a hole in the box and realize that this was her. He grinned, realizing this was her and he was well within is right to beat the ever living shit out of her.
Amber had just about punctured the box when she felt something tap her in the shoulder. She froze. She had counted the number of workers, there was no way she missed one. It tapped again and she turned around to find herself looking up at a large carnation.
“Hi there,” he greeted.
“Hey-?” Quick as lightning, he backhanded her hard enough to send her flying over the honey box and crashing into a pile of boxes.
Sullivan’s team just finished unloading the last box when something passed flying the boxes. A couple of workers turned their heads where they thought they flying thing landed.
Amber grunted painfully as she sat up from where she had been slapped. Pieces of wood chunks lay everywhere. She wondered how she wasn’t more seriously harmed, until she realized she had crashed into a box carrying several large bags of flour. It looked like Rumor wasn’t the only Royal resident expecting a shipment of something.
She didn’t have much time to thank her lucky stars as she saw the carnation bearing down on her. Amber’s eyes widen as she realized where she have seen him before. He was the flower from the observatory. And he looked pissed enough to kill her. “Woah, woah, wait,” she started, “listen, I only took one thing, I’ll bring it back!”
“There is nothing you can do to bring back Hilda’s dome!”
“Hilda’s…dome?” Amber was really confused. She hadn’t stolen any domes. “Wait, Mr. Flower…”
“It’s Cagney, dammit!” He snarled, lunging for her.
She struggled to escape, but her foot was stuck under heavy bag of flour. And when flight was off the table, that only left one other option.
Before he could grab her, she grabbed one of the bags of flour and smacked it down on his petaled head.
Cagney saw stars and white powder as he reeled back from the surprise attack. He blinked unsuredly before growling and opting to swing around wildly instead, hoping to make contact with something
The workers around the flour shipment saw the giant flower get hit with one of the precious cargo.
“Hey! What’s going on!?”
“Somebody’s fighting!”
The crew mates started to gather around the carnation.
Amber freed her foot just in time to take an acorn to the gut, sending her rolling backwards in a clumsy somersault. Cagney dizzily pulled out another one, shaking his head to regain his senses. “Next one’s going for the head!”
Amber scowled. “If that’s how it’s gonna be, then fine!” She picked up the acorn, climbed up one of the rafters and chucked it at his face, smacking him hard in the nose.
Cagney drop the other acorn and grabbed his nose. “Argh, you bitch!” He couldn’t stretch up after her but he still had his thorns. He wrapped his thorny stem around the rafters beam and squeezed tightly, sending the pole shaking as he sent cracks up and down the sea soaked wood. It wavered dangerously close to the edge of the water.
Amber hissed, her fur raising. She crouched and pounced on the carnation, latching onto his hand and clawing him with an angry yowl.
Cagney squealed, unwinding himself and tried to shake her off by slamming her into things but the cat had sunk her claws in nice and deep.
Amber went to pull out something from her bag, loosening her claws. Cagney saw his opportunity to yank her off and slammed her in the ground, breaking through the bottom of the deck of the porch. The cat clunk desperately to his green fingers and looks down fearfully at the cold choppy water underneath.
She scrambled up the length of his arm, back on top of the shipyard, before clinging to his petals. the Carnation tried to pull her off, but this time she wasn’t letting go, biting at hands that got too close. “Get off me, pussy!”
He head-butted the rafter once more, hoping it would just dislodge her, but it only made both of them dizzy. Amber hissed and yanked a petal. “Thought you were tougher than this, I’m going to prune you, you dumb daisy.”
He flinched at that comment. Hilda liked calling him a dumb daisy. It is much as he dislike the term, he hated that anyone else would dare to use it other than her. A burst of vindictive rage finally allowed him to pry her off despite her biting and scratching and he held her aloft by the scruff. “I’m a carnation, you flea-ridden rat!” He pitched her at a box and she hit it with a thud.
Amber felt around for something to use, only for her paw to touch something sticky. She looked down to see she had touched honey. Where the hell was the honey coming from? She turned behind her to realize the honey was leaking from a small hole in the box. The force of the carnation’s throw must have led to her accidentally puncturing the box. It was only a small hole though and just one of the boxes… Amber realized at the site of one of the insignias stamped on the box, but this was the royal jelly box. She panicked but tried to remain calm. As long as nothing else hit it, the leak could be fixed and the box could be saved.
At the sight of the carnation approaching, she realized the flower was oblivious to how weak the honey box was, so she held out her paws. “Wait, wait, the honey, hold on!”
Cagney stared at her in disbelief before snapping.  "My name’s not honey, it’s Cagney!“ And with that, he slammed both his fists down toward her.
"No, you stupid-!” She didn’t even finish her sentence as she couldn’t quite move in time, splintering the box open behind her with a loud snap. Honey gushed out, coating the combatants in its sticky yellowness.
Cagney slipped and fell to the ground when he tried to keep his balance and Amber screamed angrily as she looked at herself.
“Do you have any idea how long is going to take to wash out of my fur, you stupid carnation!?” She hissed, leaping on the fallen flower. “It’s going to take weeks! Weeks!”
“Weeks?! Do you even know how long it’s going to take Hilda to rebuild that dome, even if she had the money!?” Cagney snapped back, trying to push the sticky feline off of him. At least her claws were pretty much useless with amount of yellow gunk covering them.
“You broke it!”
“After you broke in her place!
"But you broke it!”
“Shut up, I know!” Cagney angrily admitted, “and I’m ruining everything I had with her trying to fix it, you dumb bitch!”
Amber paused slightly at that. “Wait, you and the meteorologist…?”
“Not anymore!”
“I didn’t know.”
He finally managed to get a scruff on the slippery cat.  "Of course you don’t! You’re a thief! You don’t care at all!“
Amber felt something inside of her that she didn’t normally feel at that. She didn’t know what it was, but she didn’t like it. So she hit Cagney a little less hard. Still hard enough to cause bruises if he was an animal.
"I’m going to fix this,” Cagney continued, “beating the shit out of you is going to make me feel a lot better about it!” He tried to toss only to have her stick to him even more.
Sullivan was on his way to the honey containers when he saw a bunch of working bees and some guards arriving in their trucks. He greeted them and took to their shipment, only stop abruptly at the view.
A few of the priceless royal jelly boxes where cracked and leaking the precious amber product all over the docks and into the sea.
In the middle of the mess, Sullivan recognized the giant flower, struggling to stand up, and somebody else was with him. He got closer and recognized the voice.
.“..Amber?” He said in disbelief.
Amber cocked her head at her name and looked around only to stop in her place as she saw Sullivan staring right at her. “Uh…hi Sully?” She managed, “this looks bad but…”
Cagney managed to catch the cat off guard and smack her into one of the broken boxes. “Didn’t see that coming, didja you bi-hey! Hey! What the hell are you doing?!” His attention turned toward the guard bees who had appropriately swarmed the flower and were in the process of trying to restrain him.
Amber likewise managed to pull herself out of the honey only to get pinned to the ground next to Cagney with an indigent yelp. “Hey! Watch where you’re putting those antennae, you perverts!” She hissed, struggling uselessly against the guard
“What the…! .” Sullivan dropped his clipboard and got closer them. “W-wait! This is a misunderstanding! A-a-an accident! GET YOU HANDS OFF HER!” He wanted to pull one of the guards away from Amber but was violently restrained by another bee.
“This is Royal business now, Mr Wells,” the big bee holding him said in a deep voice. “And you better watch it, or we will take you too.” He threatened him.
The worker bees tried their best to fix the leaking boxes while the guards took Cagney and Amber to their truck. Sullivan struggled to get loose. “No! It’s a misunderstanding! They’re not even supposed to be here! Please! No! AMBER!”
But the guards ignored him and drove their sticky prisoners to the hive.
———————————————————————————
CHAPTER 01,  CHAPTER 02,  CHAPTER 03,  CHAPTER 04,  CHAPTER 05, CHAPTER 06,  CHAPTER 07,  CHAPTER 08,  CHAPTER 09,  CHAPTER 10; CHAPTER 11; CHAPTER 12 ; CHAPTER 13 ; CHAPTER 14  ; CHAPTER 15; CHAPTER 16 ; (nsfw) CHAPTER 17 ; CHAPTER 18 ; CHAPTER 19 (nsfw) ; CHAPTER 20 ; CHAPTER 21 ; CHAPTER 22 ; CHAPTER 23 ; CHAPTER 24 ; CHAPTER 25 (nsfw)(you are here now!)
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xathia-89 · 6 years ago
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A Lord’s Claim
Things had been far too quiet around Azuchi for my liking. I had hardly any requests coming in for my seamstress work, and everything had been kept immaculate whilst all the servants had apparently gotten all their roles and routines suddenly in order. I could smell someone’s influence, though it was hard to pin it down. All of the warlords that I babysat were absent at this moment in time, and even with Kenshin and Shingen eventually coming to a turbulent truce with Nobunaga, it was never this quiet.
Sasuke let himself in through one of the ceiling panels and dropped to his feet gracefully in front of me. A rare smile graced his lips as he bowed respectfully to the ‘Princess’.
“I’ve told you before about that,” I gently reprimanded him, and bowed slightly in greeting on automation. “I’m surprised Kenshin isn’t up there with you. I am sure you keep everyone’s ninjas on their toes.”
“It never occurred to Nobunaga’s ninjas to use the ceilings as a way of getting about unseen in Azuchi, so I’ve been helping them build it,” Sasuke shrugged. “I was wondering if you had seen Shingen or Kenshin, but since you were expecting Kenshin to follow me down, then you obviously haven’t seen Kenshin.”
“I haven’t seen any Warlords so far today, I am highly suspicious of whatever they are planning, but then again it does give me an excuse to go down to my favourite teahouse. Would you like to join me?” I offered.
“I have been meaning to try out the sake there that Kenshin keeps raving about,” Sasuke replied and gestured for me to lead the way.
The owner waved at me as I approached, looking excited to see me for some reason. “Princess! We have some new sweet dough in, you must try it! Lord Nobunaga acquired some thing called ‘cinnamon’ and instructed us to use it for your next visit.”
“I would be delighted to try it, but you must let me pay my bill this time, or you will run yourself out of business. My friend would like a bottle of your house best sake as well as the usual for me please,” I beamed, letting the owner seat me at a shaded table next to the open doors as various faces glanced over to see what the fuss was about.
We were sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the bright spring weather as the sake and three cups were brought before us.
“Three?” Sasuke queried, as I frowned at the gesture, and then a shadow loomed over the table and plonked himself on the seat next to the ninja. Yuki had returned to Azuchi as we had arrived at the teahouse it seemed. “Yuki, glad to see you are safe.”
I poured the sake out for us all whilst the dumplings were made up. “Yeah, Lord Shingen wanted me to check on Kai whilst he’s stuck here,” the vassal sounded far from impressed but was then glaring at me. “And you can stop staring at me, and stop looking at Sasuke like he’s lunch all the time!”
“For heaven’s sake! I do not look at Sasuke like that, that’s my normal expression!” I exclaimed hotly. This was just the way we got on, and apparently, Yukimura had his ideas all tied up on who occupied most of my thoughts.
“You don’t look at any of the warlords like they’re lunch,” he snorted as the dumplings arrived, and then eyed the batch put in front of me with suspicion.
“Nobunaga had a new ingredient bought for me to try out in dumplings, I was beginning to wonder why he was insistent I came here recently,” I explained, though I wasn’t sure why I was trying to justify anything to Yukimura.
The dumplings were delicious, but the cinnamon added that extra twist that I missed from five hundred years in the future. Spices and herbs were a luxury here, where I was used to them being a commodity. Nobunaga had taken the news surprisingly well when I spun the tale about what had happened, and he had been very understanding about why I behaved so strangely at first. He had taken a couple of the maids to secretly instruct me in the manners of a ‘Princess’ when I was required to be on display in front of the daimyos and important strangers. And recently he had been hiding from me mostly.
“Natsuki?” Sasuke questioned, prodding my arm gently.
“Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts there,” I smiled apologetically, and brought the sake to my lips for a taste. “Plus I’m still in awe that Nobunaga got hold of cinnamon, and then used some just for me.”
“What’s cinnamon?” Yuki queried, looking interested in my dumplings before I put one on his plate and one on Sasuke’s before eating another one. “That’s…. really really good,” he muttered, looking a little abashed about the situation for some reason.
“I had some years ago, and I mentioned it in passing, he must have remembered,” I smiled at the dumplings. “Anyway, we have sake, and I have no sewing, so drinking it is,” I cheered, filling the cups back up again.
I wasn’t sure who was the drunkest out of the three of us. We were all starting to waver a little in the street as a slightly irritated Hideyoshi and Mitsunari came out to find me, and then found the two men as an added bonus. The world was spinning a little, and I found myself piggyback style carried back by Hideyoshi as Mitsunari had to deal with a drunk ninja, who kept using smoke and noise bombs because it seemed funny, and the vassal who kept encouraging him.
“You seem all worried,” I mumbled, and poked at Hideyoshi’s head, though I missed and poked his ear.
“You hadn’t been seen all afternoon, and now look at you. How many bottles did you have?” He was short with me because he was worried, that was the way that Hideyoshi worked as I squeezed him in a hug from my ride back to the castle.
“I dunno, I paid up, I didn’t get much change,” I slurred a little. “Nobunaga told me to go to the teahouse, and I had nothing else to do, he got me some cinnamon! It’s so delicious!” I giggled.
“And the sake?” He sighed.
“It’s the best sake, and with their dumplings, it’s the perfect pairing,” I beamed, and nuzzled Hideyoshi’s cheek in affection, unaware of just how red he was getting from it.
“Nah lass, I think I’m looking at the perfect pairing,” Masamune was waiting at the gates for our return as I waved a little over eagerly and toppled over Hideyoshi’s head. He caught me in his arms, a stern look on his face as I couldn’t stop my giggles and smiles up at the vassal. “Nobunaga was beginning to think you’d ran off with Natsuki,” the one-eyed dragon grinned.
“I would never,” Hideyoshi automatically replied, gently putting me down. “She’s the princess.”
“Stop being mean Masamune,” I poked at his chest as both men went to steady me. “I think I had a few too many bottles…” I trailed off as I ended up looking up at the warlords whilst leaning against Hideyoshi.
It was warm and comfortable where I woke up. And not my room as I opened my eyes. Nobunaga was sat out on the veranda and buried deep in thought. There was some water next to the futon, a very unusual move for my boss I figured as I lifted the cup to my lips.
“I heard you enjoyed the dumplings,” he stated, coming back into the tenshu.
“I can’t believe you remembered me talking about cinnamon. Thank you, it must have been a dear purchase,” I replied, and bowed my head.
“I heard you were getting a little close to Hideyoshi,” Oda’s eyes were level with mine, and there was a new fire I hadn’t seen in them before.
“He was just giving me a lift back,” I trailed off. “Wait, are you jealous?” I laughed, realising the problem. “You thought I was flirting with Hideyoshi?”
Nobunaga was going red across the cheeks at my statements after I’d explained to him previously regarding the more modern terms in relationships. And then turned away to hide the obvious as I tried to stifle my giggles.
“I’m sorry, I should have realised you cleared my schedule on purpose yesterday so I’d go to the teahouse to try the dumplings, thank you,” I repeated.
“Apparently you were looking at Sasuke like he was your choice according to Yukimura,” Nobunaga was sounding possessive, and it was the most adorable thing I had yet to encounter in my time in the Sengoku.
“If you ask Yukimura, then any time I look at Sasuke I’m looking at him like he is lunch,” I corrected the Devil King, and moved to sit next to him. “And if you heard about that part of the conversation, then it’s likely you know what the truth is. Plus, I don’t think anyone else would truly accept the truth about me being from five hundred years in the future,” I added on, my hand resting on the floor millimetres from his.
“The only person you’ll be looking at like they are lunch is me,” Nobunaga was gruff in his response before I was swiftly pulled in for a heavy and passionate kiss.
My fingers trailed over my lips after we parted, I was tingling all over, and I could barely think straight. Then I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him. I was in his lap to get closer to him, and he was drinking everything I could give him greedily like I was his favourite sake bottle.
It was comfortable in his arms as we lounged in the rising morning sun, my eyes closed as my head rested against his chest and enjoyed the simplicity of the moment. These times would be few and far between, so it was important to savour them when you did get the chance.
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